Mako (The Mako Saga: Book 1) (47 page)

Eventually locating the folder tabbed “Classic Rock,” Lee opened it and began scrolling through the hundreds of artists and albums inside. Zeppelin’s
IV
,
The Jimi Hendrix Experience
, the Beatles’ “white”
album, Pink Floyd’s
Dark Side of the Moon
…

“C’mon, Doc,” he muttered. “Tell me ya got it.”

Rush, The Who, Black Sabbath, The Eagles…

“C’mooooonnn…”

Then finally, after several nervewracking seconds of searching, there it was.

Taking a deep breath—his mind overflowing with the same jumble of thoughts that’d confounded him for more than a decade—Lee closed his eyes and quietly summoned every ounce of confidence he could muster.

“Please, God,” he thought, hovering his finger over the button. “Please don’t let me screw this up.”

****

Standing in front of Tino on the dance floor, Mac’s expression shifted abruptly when the redundant thump of the current dance song gave way to the smooth, soulful sound of a lone piano, and the familiar bluesy opening of the Allman Brothers’ “Please Call Home.”

“Thanks, Tino, I’ll take it from here,” Lee said, smiling wryly and sliding between them.

Staring in bewilderment, the boy hiccupped and wobbled back to the bar.

“This is… unexpected,” Mac observed, feeling his hands wrap around her waist as they began to sway. “You know, I consider myself to be pretty intuitive.”

“Is that so?” he quipped.

“Yeah, that’s so,” she rebutted. “I can usually see most things coming. But slow dancing my way through outer space… with Lee Summerston, no less? Yeah, not so much.”

Lee grinned. “So I guess this means you’re talkin’ to me again?”

Mac threw him another smirk. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she conceded. “You’re off the hook. Nice touch with the Allmans, by the way. I can’t believe you remembered that story. I mean, that was what? Like, nine years ago or something?”

“It’s been a while, alright,” Lee agreed. “Still, walkin’ in on Evelyn McKinsey—the self-proclaimed Queen of Metal—croonin’ it up to a southern rock tune?” He laughed. “Well, that’s kinda like seein’ a Sasquatch in the woods; you tend to remember those things.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Okay, you really didn’t just compare me to Bigfoot, right? I mean seriously, that didn’t just happen….”

“No offense,” he offered.

“Plenty taken,” she fired back.

Snickering, Lee glanced over her shoulder to see Tino, obviously trashed, fighting to stay upright at the bar.

“Man, Mac, you really did a number on ol’ Flyboy over there.”

Her head fell back with laughter. “That’s right. Another one falls into the clutches of the big, bad, black widow bartender,” she crowed. “Don’t worry, hero, you saved him from his grisly fate!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lee wondered aloud. “I figured I was savin’ somebody, anyway.”

Struck by his candor, Mac leaned away from him and cocked an eyebrow. “I see,” she said foxily. “So you were worried about me, then. Was that it?”

“Oh… no,” he stammered, suddenly feeling a bit exposed. “Well, yeah… I mean, I know you can handle yourself. But—”

“But what?” she pressed, seeing him on his heels.

Lee looked away and heaved a sigh. “Listen, the guy’s obviously got a thing for you, and I just don’t trust him, is all.”

Mac shook her head. “Don’t worry about Tino, he’s harmless,” she assured him, “and believe me, I know. I see dozens of guys like him come into my bar every night. He’s not a bad guy, just a tenacious flirt with a pair of wings and a call sign. Take the flight status away, and that guy couldn’t close a soccer mom in a midlife crisis.”

Lee chuckled at the image, feeling as if he’d just dodged a bullet.

“Still,” she amended, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say that sounds like a hint of jealousy there, Lee.”

He winced. “C’mon,” Lee defended, “it’s just that when one friend sees another friend in a weird situation, that friend feels a sense of obligation to help the other friend out of the bind. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” she rebutted, seizing on the chance to stay on the offensive.

“Yeah, that’s all.”

“Because friends totally c-block a perfectly good play by a cute guy on the dance floor to cue up a sentimental favorite on the jukebox for an innocent slow dance through quite possibly one of the single most romantic settings of all time?” She gestured to the stars behind them. “That’s what friends do?”

“My keen sense of sarcasm detects that you’re insinuating somethin’ here, Mac,” Lee said, hoping to preserve what he could of his platonic facade. “I was just in the mood for a little Allmans, and considering the fact that no one else in here has a clue what they’re hearin’ right now, I just figured my good friend would like to dance. If you like, I can go get Hamish.”

“Oh god!” she howled, as a handful of other couples joined them on the dance floor. “These people think we’re freaks enough as it is. No need to outright scare them.”

As the song rolled through its second verse, the two continued to sway, both of them sensing that there was the definite potential here to step into an area that neither of them were sure they were ready for.

“Hey Lee?” Mac began, resting her head on his shoulder. “You ever miss home?”

Not sure where she was going with this, Lee proceeded with caution. “Sure, all the time,” he answered. “I mean, livin’ on the beach is great and all, but everything I’ve ever known is back in Tally. Granted, it’s only two and a half hours away, which is an easy enough drive for a weekend, but there are nights that all I really wanna do is meet up with you and Danny for a drink or a cup of coffee, and I can’t do that from Jax, much less with you in Athens.”

Mac frowned as he went on.

“I miss being able to share my day with you, and not over the phone, or in some stupid video chat, but in person, face to face.”

“Yeah right,” she murmured. “So, do you think you’ll ever come home? You know, like really come home? For good?”

Lee considered this for a moment. It wasn’t as if he’d never given thought to the idea, but he’d always stayed at LSC for the paychecks—peanuts as they were. Now with Reiser’s company at his disposal, however, all of that had changed. He could go wherever he wanted, and for that matter, so could she. They could move cross-country if they wanted, where he could teach (if he so chose) and she could build her own record label, hiring and firing whomever she pleased. Or, they could stay closer to home, setting up shop anywhere from Miami to Nashville. They could go where they wanted. They could do what they wanted, how they wanted, in Tallahassee or anywhere else. They could… They…

Lee’s mind swirled with the possibilities.

“Ya know, home sounds like a pretty good place to be lately,” he admitted, breaking back to reality. “So yeah, it’s on the table.”

Mac smiled and slugged his shoulder. “Nothing like being able to kick back a cold one with your friends whenever you want,” she exclaimed, keeping things light. “That’s as good a reason to come home as any, to be sure.”

“True,” Lee hesitated, feeling a touch of boldness come over him. “But I can think of a few other good reasons.”

Mac’s emerald eyes glistened like the stars themselves as she stared back at him, completely understanding of his meaning.

“Yeah…” she said with little more than a whisper. “Yeah, I can too.”

As the revelation of her thoughts dawned on him, amid the explosive crescendo of soul-filled organ, thunderous percussion, and soaring slide guitar, the world around Lee Summerston fell away as he drew her to him and leaned in.

****

“
I’D LIKE TO MEET AN ADMIRAL, A SULTAN OR A KING!!!
”

Rudely interrupted by the booming chorus behind them, Lee and Mac turned to see Hamish and Link presiding over a literal sea of raised glasses from atop the bar.

“
AND TO HIS PRAISES, WE SHALL ALWAYS SING. LOOK WHAT HE HAS DONE FOR US—HE’S FILLED OUR CUPS WITH CHEER! GOD BLESS CHARLIE MOPPS, THE MAN WHO INVENTED BEER!!!
”

“I guess it’s true what they say,’ Mac sighed to Lee. “You can take the boys out of the bar, but you can’t take the bar out of the boys.”

“Well, kids,” Danny said, strolling over to meet them. “If history is any indication, that’s generally our cue to call it a night, wouldn’t you say?”

Glancing back at Mac, whose cheeks were still slightly flushed, Lee shook off the feeling of unfinished business that dug at him with the knowledge that, after this week, they’d have all the time in the world—not to mention a little privacy—to sort things out between them.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good call,” Lee replied, turning his focus to the duo at the bar. “Hey fellas! Time to rock n’ roll!”

“Ah c’mon, Top,” Link protested. “It’s nowhere even close to closing time yet!”

“Aye, Lee’s right,” said Hamish, downing the last of his Scotch and shoving his glass across the bar. “We’ve got a big day ahead tomorrow, and we’ll have plenty of chances to get back in here before we leave.” Then, turning to a noticeably wobbly Wyatt, Hamish rested a hand on his new friend’s shoulder. “Chief, it was an absolute pleasure.”

“Yeah, Chief,” Link agreed. “Good times.”

Steadying himself on a stool in preparation for the vertigo-stricken walk back to his quarters, Wyatt smiled at the both of them.

“It really was, guys, thanks,” he slurred. “Hey Link, do me a favor and get with the mess hall to tell them how to make one of those sandwiches you were telling me about. What are those called again?”

“That’s a Philly Cheesesteak, my man, and I’m here to tell you, it’s god’s gift to the sandwich community. You’ll like, trust me.”

Wyatt laughed again and started for the door. “Listen, guys, thanks for making me stick around tonight,” he said through a foggy expression. “It was a good time and… well, I appreciate it.”

“Aye, ma friend, the pleasure was most certainly all ours,” Hamish said in earnest. “And just so we’re clear; there’s plenty more Scotch to be had before we leave this place, and yar name is all over at least one of those bottles. So we fully expect you to help us with that, understood?”

Wyatt nodded. “Wouldn’t dream of missing it. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” And with that, he disappeared out of sight.

“Alright, folks,” said Danny. “We ready to—”

Danny lunged to the side as an explosive pool of chunky vomit pelted the floor beside him.

“
Damn it, Tino… you primitive screwhead!
” Bruce roared, slapping a towel onto the floor beside the demolished pilot.

“Holy crap, Mac, how much did you let that guy drink?” Link marveled.

“What do you want outta me?” Mac shrugged en route to the door. “The kid thought he could bring the noise. It’s not my fault it was more like a whimper.”

Chapter 25: Training Day

Feeling a little jittery upon entering the flight deck, in part because of nerves and in part because of the five cups of coffee he’d had with breakfast, Lee tried to relax as he and the others passed through the hangar. Giving a quick wave to Wyatt (who waved back) and Aston (who never did), Lee spotted Ryan, Reiser, and Reynolds heavily involved in what appeared to be a pretty serious conversation toward the back of the bay. Something was up, that much was evident… though before he could ask, the captain snapped abruptly to attention.

“
TEN-HUT! Admiral on deck!
”

Instantly, everyone within earshot dropped what they were doing and snapped a firm salute, as did Lee and the group.

“At ease everyone,” Katahl instructed, wiping the stress and exhaustion from his face to join Ryan up front.

“What’s goin’ on, Doc?” Lee whispered to Reiser who fell in line next to him.

“We lost the Parkwood last night,” he murmured back.

Lee furrowed a brow. “Wait a second,” he wondered aloud. “The Parkwood’s a science vessel, not a battleship. What on earth could they have wanted outta such a low-priority target?”

Reiser shook his head. “All we know right now is that, at 02:35, they were jumped by a pair of Alystierian destroyers in the Lynon system. Nobody knows why, but eyewitness reports would seem to indicate they were looking for something.”

“What?” Lee asked.

“No idea,” Reiser answered. “But they boarded the ship and hacked the core before they scuttled her, so whatever it was, they wanted it bad enough to take their time.”

“Casualties?” Lee asked.

“Twenty three survivors, 10 of whom were wounded, 14 confirmed dead, and six MIAs.”

“Good morning everyone,” the admiral began, and Lee snapped his eyes forward. “For the record, I was saving this speech until after your FTX, but in light of everything that’s happening right now, your final day of flight school will have to suffice.” Katahl clasped his hands behind his back and assumed a formal stance. “In any case, I wanted to congratulate each and every one of you on the remarkable job you’ve done with this project. You’ve performed admirably and while that’s very much a credit to the work of Dr. Reiser and his team, I firmly believe that the technology is nothing without the soldier wielding it, and you’ve genuinely conducted yourselves in a manner worthy of that label. Your hard work, dedication, and commitment to this program have been nothing short of commendable, and on behalf of everyone on board, and everyone in the fleet, I wanted you to know just how sincerely grateful we are for what you’ve accomplished here.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Lee said, extending a hand. “We appreciate you comin’ down here and all, but from the sound of it, you’ve got far more important things to worry about today than babysitting a bunch of civilian wannabes in a science experiment.”

Katahl’s tired expression flickered. “That may be true,” he offered, “but I can always spare a few minutes to thank those who put it on the line for me, civilian or otherwise. Besides…” The admiral gestured to the squadron patch on Lee’s flight suit. “You might’ve been wannabes when you arrived here, but that’s not the case any longer. You’ve earned the right to wear that, Summerston. You and your people, ruah?”

Lee nodded, deeply grateful. “Ruah, sir.”