The Wild Blue Yonder

TO THE READER: this story includes several characters from the series of Jason Garrett stories; however, this story is not part of that series.

Furthermore, with the exception of Hugh Hefner and Larry Flynt, all characters and occurrences in this story are entirely fictional. This story is not designed to be a true portrayal of military policy; however, the author has tried to make this story as true to the military as possible.

In December of 2008, Hugh Hefner, publisher of Playboy, approached the Secretary of Defense with a proposal. Hefner wanted to do a Playboy featuring the Women of the Military. However, he knew that were military women to appear nude in Playboy during their enlistment period, it could jeopardize their standing within the Armed Forces. For all his foibles, Hefner has always been known as a man who would go out of his way to make sure that his Playboy models were well taken care of and that nothing he did would be harmful to their careers.

After a great deal of negotiating with the Defense Department and the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Hefner got the go-ahead to do his issue, provided that none of the women were dressed in actual military uniforms at any point during the shoot, and that no military equipment was visible in any of the pictures. Eager to do his issue, Hefner readily agreed.

In February 2009, Sergeant Amy Carson, US Army, Gunnery Sergeant Michelle Kingsley, US Marine Corps, Tech Sergeant Kat Warbington, US Air Force, Petty Officer Nicole McKenna, US Navy, and Petty Officer Rachel Marxen, US Coast Guard, all appeared in Hugh Hefner's "Women in Uniform" issue. It was the best selling issue of Playboy of all time, and provided unprecedented publicity for the United States Armed Forces. Recruiters nationwide reported a 56% increase in 18-25 year old male walk-ins between February and May of 2009. By the end of June 2009, the US Armed Forces stood at a place where they could've easily handled two major regional conflicts simultaneously – almost entirely thanks to Hugh Hefner publishing twenty-five pages of tastefully done nude photographs of women in the military.

My name is Tech Sergeant Austin Garrett, US Air Force. I've known Kat Warbington my entire life. We grew up together in Pasadena, with our birthdays within a week of each other (that sometimes proved to be a bitch, because my brother's birthday was only eight days after mine). The Monday after Kat turned 18, we both went to the Air Force recruiting office and enlisted. We would ship out for Basic Training at Fort Dyess in Texas three weeks after we graduated from high school in May 2005.

After Basic, we both got assigned to Beale Air Force Base in Sacramento. It was entirely coincidence that we were assigned to the same place, but it proved to be a blessing, being only four hundred miles from both of our families in Pasadena and a mere two hundred miles from my brother at Fresno State University.

So it was in March of 2009 that we were both nearing the end of our initial enlistment contracts. Despite the United States' continued presence in Iraq, the President had decided that nobody would be held past the end of their contracts. One day, Kat and I were both called to the commanding officer's office.

Brigadier General Mae Durban was the first female commander of Beale AFB. She was also one of very few general officers who was a registered Democrat, something that had not endeared her to the higher ranks. Between the fact that she was a female and the fact that she was a liberal Democrat, she would probably retire as a one-star general. She was also one of the few general officers who hadn't frowned on the February Playboy, instead choosing to promote Beale AFB as the "home of Kat Warbington, USAF representative to Playboy Magazine." Once again, this didn't exactly endear her to the higher ranks, but with retirement in sight, she had nothing to lose.

I was somewhat nervous about this meeting, as it is most unusual for E-6 Tech Sergeants to be called to the commanding officer's office, for any reason – good or bad.

When we entered the general's office, there were two chairs set up in front of her desk, with drinks in front of them – Vanilla Coke (Kat's favorite drink) in front of one chair, and chocolate milk (my favorite drink and my only remaining childhood vice) in front of the other.

"Please, come in and sit down," said General Durban. "And yes, I did find out what your favorite drinks are, because I like to treat my airmen with the respect they deserve."

With ever-growing apprehension, I took a seat. Kat followed suit.

"So," continued General Durban, "I'm sure you're probably puzzled and a little nervous as to why you've been summoned to my office."

"Yes, ma'am," Kat and I replied simultaneously.

"Please," she said with a chuckle, "it's Mae. My mother is ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am."

The general laughed. "Ah, the respect beaten into every soldier, sailor, airman, and marine in the United States military. Despite its downsides, still definitely a good thing."

Then, she got more serious. "Let's get down to business," she said. "Here's why you're here. Sergeant Garrett, Sergeant Warbington, both of your contracts are up at the end of May. However, I believe both of you to be officer material. As such, I personally submitted both of your names for Officer Candidate School."

We both perked up at this. I remembered that we had both applied for it back in December of 2008, but to think that General Durban had reviewed both of our files and personally submitted us? That was unheard of!

"Sergeant Garrett," she continued, "I received this letter yesterday."

She handed me a letter, which I opened.

I scanned through it, and then looked up. "I got in!"

"Yes," replied the general. "Congratulations are definitely in order!"

Then she grew even more solemn. "Kat – may I call you Kat?" she asked.

Kat nodded. Of course she wasn't going to say, "No," to a one-star general.

"Kat," said General Durban, "I believe that you are one of the best NCOs on this base, if not THE best. You have proven yourself time and time again in leadership situations, and you have shown the courage and the foresight to go outside the box if you feel it will be good for the United States Air Force.

"Unfortunately, in going outside of the box, you have made many enemies in the higher ranks. There was one specific incident that really pissed a lot of people off."

With that, General Durban reached under her desk and pulled out a copy of the February Playboy. Kat was on the front, dressed only in a desert-pattern camouflage bikini. She had been chosen for the cover, because of the five women in the photo spread, she was by far the most attractive.

"Now, in my opinion, you're getting the shaft, royally," said General Durban, disgust creeping into her voice. "Even after two hundred and thirty years, this is apparently still 'this man's military'. Even after Tailhook, men can do pretty much anything they damn well please and get away with it. They can brag about how many women they've been with. They can drop trou and walk down Black's Beach butt naked, get arrested by the San Diego Police, and come out smelling like a rose because they're a Goddamn Admiral. But God forbid a woman in the US military do something that's even the slightest bit sexually independent, because they'll be crucified for it."

I looked over at Kat, and at this last statement, she went pale. Her lower lip began trembling, so she bit into it, but that didn't stop the tear that was forming in the corner of her eye.

"Kat, I'm sorry," said General Durban, "but May 31^st is the end of the road for you as far as the US Air Force goes. You've been rejected for OCS, and you're not even going to be allowed to re-enlist. However, you will receive an honorable discharge. There were even those ultra-conservatives in the general ranks who wanted you to receive a bad conduct discharge and be court-martialed, but I cajoled, finagled, pulled in every favor I had, and generally threatened to bring down the majority of the US general officer corps in a massive scandal if they tried to do that to my best NCO. I did my best; unfortunately, all I could get you was the honorable discharge."

Kat couldn't speak for a moment. Then, she composed herself. "Thank you," she whispered. "I know you would've done anything that you could've."

With that, she got up and left the general's office. I looked after her for a moment, then turned back to General Durban.

"You have GOT to be shitting me – ma'am," I said. "This was a project APPROVED by the Secretary of Defense, it's caused a huge surge in enlistment, and she's being screwed over like this?"

"Sad but true," she replied, not even betraying a hint of anger over the fact that an NCO had just said "shit" in front of her. "Maybe it's something you can work to change."

"Right," I replied. "I work on engines in Goddamn F-22's. What the hell can I do?"

"You're going to OCS, remember?" she replied. "With your intelligence and knowledge, I wouldn't be surprised if you have your first star by the time you're 45. When you get there, you just need to bust your ass to make change and cause reform within the United States military."

With that knowledge in mind, I left General Durban's office, generally disgusted at the commanders of the United States military.

And so it was that on June 1^st, 2009, Kat received her official discharge papers from the United States Air Force, whereas I headed to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, for Officer Candidate School. In August, I graduated from OCS. I couldn't believe how many of my friends and family came to see me be commissioned as a 2^nd Lieutenant – even Kat came, dressed in her Class A dress Air Force uniform. Even though she had been discharged, she would continue to be considered part of the Inactive Reserve until she was 40.

Kat approached me and mustered a smile. "Congratulations," she said. "I'm very happy for you."

Looking at her face, though, I could see she was anything but. "Kat..." I started. As I did so, tears started welling up in her eyes.

To hell with fraternization rules, I thought. I wrapped my arms around Kat in a giant hug and just let her cry out all her frustration.

Later that night, after every one had left, I sat alone in my bachelor enlisted quarters at Ft. Sill, thinking about everything Kat had been through as a result of her exercising her first amendment rights. What the military had done to her just wasn't fair. General Durban was right – despite the fact that it was the twenty-first century, it was still very much a man's military, and enough was enough. I, Lieutenant Austin Garrett, was going to do everything I could to put things right.

I got my orders the following Monday – I was to report back to Beale Air Force Base, where I would be assistant to General Durban until her retirement the following March. At that point, I would be reassigned wherever the Air Force saw fit to send me.

Well, it turns out that General Mae Durban recognized that I was the type of "revolutionary" that the United States Armed Forces needed if it was going to be reformed. My primary assignment was gathering material that she would be able to use in an attempt to change the attitude of the military toward women and to use that material and everything she already had to begin building a case.

About two weeks into the job, I was looking through the papers she already had in a file, and I came across a few that disturbed me greatly.

CARSON, SERGEANT AMY, USA – COURT MARTIAL 1 JUNE 2009; BAD CONDUCT DISCHARGE AND DEMOTION TO CORPORAL, 5 JUNE 2009

KINGSLEY, GUNNERY SERGEANT MICHELLE, USMC – COURT MARTIAL 2 JUNE 2009; BAD CONDUCT DISCHARGE AND DEMOTION TO SERGEANT, 5 JUNE 2009

MCKENNA, PETTY OFFICER NICOLE, USN – COURT MARTIAL 3 JUNE 2009; BAD CONDUCT DISCHARGE AND DEMOTION TO SPECIALIST, 5 JUNE 2009

MARXEN, PETTY OFFICER RACHEL, USCG – COURT MARTIAL 4 JUNE 2009; BAD CONDUCT DISCHARGE AND DEMOTION TO MACHINIST'S MATE, 5 JUNE 2009

WHAT THE FUCK?! The United States Armed Forces had rid itself of all five of the Playboy women in one week in June? I was positive that the only reason that Kat hadn't received a "Big Chicken Dinner" – Bad Conduct Discharge – like these four was that General Durban had fought tooth and nail for her.

I left my office that day disgusted. When I arrived back at my bachelor officer's quarters (BOQ), my answering machine was blinking.

"Austin, this is Kat." She sounded happier than I had heard in quite some time. "Give me a call!"

So I called Kat. We must have talked for an hour, but when I hung up the phone, I was laughing my ass off.

Apparently, Hugh Hefner's military Playboy had sparked the creative juices of several people – chief among them the original Sultan of Smut, Hustler publisher Larry Flynt. Flynt wanted to go to the next level – he wanted to do a XXX-rated picture spread of military women. Unfortunately for him, that would have been strictly against military policy. So, he decided to look among inactives and apparently went for the Playboy women first.

What he wanted was for somebody who was recognizable as having been in the military to do his spread for him. The costuming involved would be, like the first time, pseudo-military slut clothing. He would then do a large number of solo photos, considerably more graphic than the Playboy photos. He would follow that up with a number of simulated partner-sex shots with a male porn star. However, though it would appear that Tech Sergeant Kat Warbington (USAF, Ret.) was getting her brains fucked out by a Hollywood porn star, simulated sex meant that there would be no penetration by genitals or fingers and that there would be no oral-genital contact. Kat, still seething mad at the military and looking for any chance she could take to get back at them, had agreed on the spot.

Kat had called me for two reasons. First of all, she wanted to tell me. Secondly, the shoot was going to be in Palm Desert. Now, it would require getting there at 6:00 AM, spending all day under the bright, hot September sun, and getting done after 8:00 PM. She didn't think she would be able to handle the exhaustion, especially driving back afterwards, so she wanted to know if I could take the weekend of September 25^th-27^th off and go out to Palm Desert with her.

I agreed in a heartbeat. First of all, it meant that I would get out of General Durban's office for a weekend. Yes, I enjoyed the perks of being an officer, but I would've much rather been out on the flightline, loading AMRAAM missiles on F-22s. Secondly – I would get to see Kat completely naked! Yeah, I had the issue of Playboy – what red blooded American male didn't? – but I would actually get to see my lifetime friend naked, in person!

So on Friday the 25^th, I drove down to the San Fernando Valley. I stayed with my brother Jason and his wife Erin at their house in Sherman Oaks (my brother's a pastor, but in southern California, even the pastors are paid well!). On Saturday, I made sure not to wear anything remotely military, choosing instead to wear a pair of jeans and one of my brother's old Fresno State t-shirts. I left Sherman Oaks at about 3:00 AM, getting to Kat's apartment in Pasadena at 4:00 AM. We jumped on I-210 and headed east.

As we drove out to Palm Desert, we started talking about different things – the military, high school, childhood. Then, we got to talking about sex.

"When did you lose your virginity, Austin?" Kat asked.

"Let's see..." I replied, thinking. "After senior prom. You remember Kacey McLaren, my date?"

"WHAT?!" she replied, seemingly shocked. "You... you..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I lost my virginity to Kacey McLaren, the high school bicycle. 'Ring, ring, everyone's had a ride!' She had changed her life at that point. She was different."

"No, no," she said, laughing. "I figured you had lost your virginity when you were like 14 or something. Damn, I never would've guessed you almost graduated a virgin."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I said, starting to blush. "What can I say, my brother had given me theAmerican Pie trilogy for Christmas that year and I decided I was getting laid before I graduated. Your turn."

"I just can't believe that," Kat continued, still laughing.

"ALRIGHT ALREADY," I snapped. "Enough about me, it's your turn, dammit!"

"Sorry," Kat replied, trying to choke off a laugh. She took a couple moments to calm down, then started.

"I can still remember the day I lost my virginity," she said. "November 20^th, 2004. Two days after my 18^th birthday."

"Aw, hell no," I said. "You beat me to it. By five months!"

"And you'll never believe who I lost it to," she said with a giggle.

"I can believe a lot," I replied acidly. "Who was it?"

"Your brother."

I almost ran my Explorer right off the road. Turning to look at her, all I could say was, "No fucking way."

"Yep," she said. "I drove up to Fresno and gave him my virginity. I told him that I had been dreaming about losing my virginity to him since I was 14, and that it was my birthday present to myself."

"Ho-ly shit," I replied. "This I am going to HAVE to ask him about."

"Well, do that if you want," she said. "Just make sure Erin isn't around when you do it, because that was – quite literally – the day before they started dating."

"Ho-ly shit."

We got to the area outside of Palm Desert that had been designated just before 6:00 AM. I parked my rather modest (in comparison) Explorer between two Lexuses – one a limo. As we got out, we heard an electric whir behind us.

We turned to see the ultimate Purveyor of Porn, Larry Flynt himself, rolling up behind us. "Good morning," he said in a surprisingly nasal voice. "Glad you could make it, Miss Warbington."

Sticking his hand out to me, he introduced himself. "Larry Flynt."

"Lieutenant Austin Garrett, US Air Force," I replied.

Immediately, a look of concern crossed Flynt's face. I moved quickly to reassure him.

"Don't worry," I said. "I'm not here as a snitch for the military. Kat and I have known each other since we were both little kids. I'm just here as a friend."

Flynt looked instantly relieved. "Had me scared for a moment there," he chuckled. "I thought that maybe this was some sort of military sting and you were going to try to take away my Constitutional rights for good."

Oh please, I thought. You've probably got more money than the entire US military. As long as you're alive, Hustler will never get shut down.

Kat was escorted off to a trailer to get ready. I was told that the photo shoot would begin around 8:00 AM. Since I was rather tired, I climbed back in my Explorer, laid the back seat down, and fell asleep.

I woke up around 7:30 to the sound of a semi pulling in. I woke up, rubbed my eyes, and looked out my window.

I couldn't believe what I saw. A semi was pulling in with a rather unique load – an old, retired B-58 supersonic bomber. The B-58's nickname had been "Hustler", so it was appropriate that they would pick this aircraft to use as a backdrop. It had been painted entirely black, with the Hustler logo painted in silver on the tail. Its wings were folded to accommodate freeway travel, and its wheel struts appeared to have been shortened so that the wings would only be about three feet off the ground.

I got out of the Explorer and watched as the Hustler crew unchocked the B-58's wheels and gently and slowly rolled it off of the truck bed onto the ground. However, when they tried to unfold the wings, they were completely unsuccessful. After watching them struggle for a few minutes, I took pity. Jogging over, I said, "I can give you a hand with that. I used to be an Air Force mechanic."