Ever Hayes - Redemption

Danny and the Pack took the plane to Oahu for another meeting five days before the USS George Washington was scheduled to leave Pearl Harbor to launch the rescue planes. Governor Barnes had elected to keep the newer carrier, the USS JFK , in port, given that the shortage of personnel meant we couldn’t send accompanying ships—a carrier strike group—along for protection. The JFK was the most technologically advanced—most modern—ship in the world. If we were going to risk losing one, it couldn’t be the JFK .

Before Baker and his team took the carrier out into the open ocean, they’d be making a test run with it on July 31. They’d head out fifty miles south then loop north into the deep Kauai Channel—parking about a half-mile south of Redemption Island for the night. They’d run some last-minute drills and checks, then move out the next morning. It would be strange seeing that giant ship a few hundred yards off our coastline, knowing the 348 people on board—one eighth of our remaining population—might never be coming back. In my mind it was like going back 110 years and waving at the Titanic as it left port—knowing they would hit the iceberg and still letting them go anyway.

We didn’t know what kind of naval opposition the enemy might provide. It had been months since our radar had detected any vessel approaching Hawaii from the mainland, and even that boat had never come within our long-distance firing range. Did Qi Jia have control of any subs? Destroyers? A carrier of their own they also could sufficiently staff and operate—considering the USS Reagan had been in port in San Diego during the attacks? We knew we could send our carrier out 1,500 miles or so and still be beyond their land-based radar—assuming their range had the same thousand-mile max as ours. But if Qi Jia did have a carrier, submarine, or some other ship parked off the coast, the carrier wouldn’t even be able to go that far—and the rescue group needed every inch of that 1,500 miles to safely get an airplane to Colorado and back.

Danny told me this meeting was as intense as every other. Captain Baker and his sidekick Brock were their usual condescending selves—pissed off about anything and everything having to do with their makeshift crew. Baker wanted fighter jets to accompany the rescue planes to land, somehow not grasping—or caring—that more firepower would mean more visibility—and getting noticed would nullify the additional weaponry. It took all of the governor’s patience and reasoning ability to convince them of that fact.

Danny feared that eventually Baker would do what he wanted anyway. While the USS George Washington had been made as light as possible, it still contained four transport planes, two Apache helicopters, one Blackhawk, and six fighter jets—two F-111s, an A-10, two F-15s and a Nighthawk. There would be no one to stop Baker from using any or all of the planes however he wished. His problem would be pilots. He only had seven Air Force pilots with him. Seven more were staying in Hawaii—including Axel.

Meeting days for the Pack were beach days for the rest of us. Everyone but Lazzo, Kate, and Ollie went down to the cove this time. Kate volunteered to watch Ollie so Tara and I could get away and relax a little together. The decision was a no-brainer for us. Kate was going to be an incredible mother, whenever she and Danny reached that point. She’d always been so gentle, patient, and compassionate. Truthfully, if you were to describe the perfect mother, almost every adjective you’d come up with would be part of who Kate already was.

As for getting away for a bit with Tara—even if everyone else was around—well, let’s say that as much as I enjoyed seeing her naked and frolicking around the cabin, there was something uniquely arousing about splashing through the ocean with her. So many little things got to me…the water droplets glistening on her tanned skin…the goose bumps I regularly found on her thighs. I loved pulling her in—her perky breasts smashed against my chest, her heartbeat combating my own. Man, the sensations that swarmed me as she wrapped her strong legs around my waist and laughed that beautiful laugh—she made me feel like a teenager all over again. But this time there was more than just a chance I’d get lucky. In fact, I knew for certain I got lucky every day I woke up next to her. She was amazing.

We had settled onto a sandbar out in the cove—just the two of us—mostly watching Emily and Abbey build some sort of sandcastle on the shore. Tara was leaning back against my chest and I was using the nearly neck-high water to conceal my active hands—my fingers inching downward as my pulse raced upward. Tara was tolerating it—adjusting her suit and legs to give me better access—but I could tell there was something else on her mind. She wasn’t nearly as frisky as usual—barely participating at all. “What’s going on?” I cupped my hands around her breasts and squeezed them firmly.

“Huh?” She craned her neck to meet my gaze and kissed me. Her hot breath gave me chills.

I shuddered, licked the salt off my lips and smiled. “What’s going on? You seem like you have something else on your mind.”

“No. I’m good. Keep going.”

She reached back for my swimsuit but I blocked her hand. What the? Did you seriously just do that? “Tara, seriously…”

“I said I’m good. What else do you need?” She turned to face me now, tugging her suit bottom back up.

Boy did you blow that! “This is not you.” It isn’t either of us.

She was quiet for a minute before she shrugged and splashed water around casually with one hand. “I don’t know…”

Clearly you do .

“I’m sorry, Ryan. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I was enjoying this. I just can’t shake this bad feeling. I can’t think about anything else.”

“Okay…” I somewhat stuttered. “What do you mean? What feeling?”

She wasn’t smiling anymore. “Don’t you get the feeling that there’s something going on we don’t know about?”

I had no idea what she meant. I didn’t feel like there was anything going on at all. My focus at the time didn’t go much past her body. “I have no idea—”

“Come on, Ryan.” She stood up. I watched the water funnel off her shoulders and into the well-defined canyon between her breasts. I reluctantly looked away, glancing up at her face as she continued. “I don’t like the idea of this rescue mission… and I know you don’t either. No one does. But it feels like there’s something else going on… it just doesn’t feel right.”

I could tell she was frustrated that I wasn’t on the same page, but her concerns were so general and ambiguous. I had no idea what she was trying to say. Mars and Venus… She was usually pretty blunt—pretty clear—sometimes even too blunt and clear.

“Tara, everything’s going to be fine.” I struggled to find the right words to ease her mind. My eyes dropped back down to her strained bikini top and her well defined… I shook my head. Eyes up, Ryan . “None of us are going on that mission. Danny promised me he wasn’t going. Worst-case scenario, the mission fails and all those people die, but it doesn’t change any of this for us.”

Tara settled back down into the water, restricting my view to her face—or the back of her head now, actually. She wasn’t saying anything, just gazing out to sea now, but she didn’t look any more reassured. “Tara, no one’s going to be able to get to us here. We are safe. I pr—”