15
"I am an officer of the USAF and have earned my position and every promotion, and I am warning you, try that again and I will demonstrate HOW I earned it!" Sams angry tones drifted down the hallway, Jack groaned.
"TENHUT!" he shouted as he walked into the room, as he expected there were just two occupants, Sam and Luke, and Luke was stood so close to Sam it looked almost indecent, and THAT was at attention. Jack told Sam to stand easy as he walked to the phone, he called Landry and then the security office on level 16, he spoke with the officer in charge and asked for the footage from Sams lab for the last … Sam held up both hands splayed …10 minutes to be sent, at the same time, to the General and to her laptop, and to compress the file ready for mailing to the Army Chief of Staff, General George Casey.
He saw Luke blanch as he moved over to the computer and opened the video link, the sound came through loud and clear as Luke tried to feel Sam up, her attempts to avoid his grasp seemed only to spur him on. Jacks face turned to a horrid shade of purple as Luke's voice floated over the speakers
"Everyone knows how you got your promotions, and if you can open your legs for my older brother, you should see what a younger version can do for you" Lukes face went grey as his voice came over the system… Jack realised he had been counting on the video being just that… no sound, as all his actions could look as if he had been invited. Jack felt like all the muscles in his body were trying to stiffen at the same time, leaving him unable to move or react to the scene on the computer. He continued to play the feed until in the end Sam threatened him with actual harm, at which point Jack pivoted on his heel and regarded the man whose biological connection was as welcome as his fathers.
Jack contacted the SFs, to find out that Hank had already ordered a detail to Sams Lab, Hank arrived at the door before the detail did, his face was thunder as he watched the man who had cast such aspersions on one of the best officers that he ever had had the honour to serve with. Jack knew better than to hope Luke would resist, he wasn't built for direct confrontation, always he had worked behind the scenes, like the slime mould he was.
The security officers arrived and read him his rights, put him into cuffs and led him away to the cells. Jack was still looking at a frame on the computer screen, Sam walked over to him, she would have put her arms around him, but he knew she could tell he was too tense, years of working with him had taught her not to push when he was angry, he would snap and explode at anyone in reach, he would be sorry afterwards, but it would be too late and so she waited for him to calm and move away from what held his attention.
"Genetics" he ground out "Everything comes back to the genes, Luke is so much his fathers son it's frightening. I hope Christine understands that we have done her a favour, something my mother never would have." Sam looked at the still that Jack had on the screen and she remembered the confrontation she had had with his father at Cassies party. He was right, the same contemptuous expression on both mens faces as they looked at her, not as an officer, or even as a person, but as a second class citizen, there just to do the mans bidding! He lifted his fist and brought it down on the computer, smashing the keyboard to bits. He watched as a small cut on his hand from a jagged piece of plastic healed over and disappeared. "I wish he had died instead of…" he couldn't finish the sentence, still he felt too raw about the whole thing, after all this time the wound felt freshly opened because of the week preceding.
"Who was Mark?" she asked softly, probably feeling at last that she may get an answer, Jack almost crumbled… it was time she knew…he looked at Hank and then back to Sam.
"Not here" he told her, she nodded, she understood that this was too private for even an old friend like Hank to know about, she knew he was incapable of sharing certain things with people who he was not intimately connected to, something Sarah never accepted, she would have pushed for him to open up as soon as she knew there was something to tell.
He told Hank to send a squad around to Christine from the nearest base to let her know what had happened and he put his arm around his wife and steered her to the lifts.
OoΩoO
They went home, followed by the security people, who then deployed around the building. He hoped to God the others wouldn't turn up, he didn't get a beer, he didn't light the grill, he sat in the living room on the sofa and gathered his thoughts.
"It was 1964" he started "I had just returned from the summer holidays with my mothers folks, after she and dad married they moved away… couldn't stand the shame, they said… but somehow they always made me feel wanted, something I didn't get at home. My mother loved me, but she was too frightened of dad to stand up for me and so I spent a hell of a lot of time being punished… and usually I didn't know what for" he drew in a shuddering breath…
Gran and granddad always took me for the long holidays, I would stay in Minnesota on their farm with them, they never invited any of the other kids, and for 3 months a year I felt like I belonged somewhere, but inevitably I had to return because he wouldn't allow them to keep me, it was his way of getting back at them… I would show up, underfed, usually bruised, with nothing but the ragged clothes on my back and just under three months later just as they had repaired the damage I had to go back. It almost broke their hearts year after year.
I returned home and as usual he met me at the door and took my bags, he emptied them out and gave away everything that he couldn't pawn for cash, by '64 he was out of the corps, and he was perpetually drunk.
Grace had just turned 10 the week before I got back, I usually missed her birthday, but she didn't mind, Gran had bought her a snow-globe, he smashed it on the living room floor before she even got to see it.
Peter was 8, he was a smart kid, the teachers were always sending home letters asking if he could take tests for scholarships, dad always burnt them, HE hadn't had a college education and so he saw no reason for his children to need one, 'just give them ideas above their station' he would say 'they ain't better than me and they ain't gonna be looking down their noses at ME just because of some fancy schooling'
The twins were almost 7, Hope was beautiful, like Grace, she had blonde curly hair and brown eyes, but she was sweeter, softer and quieter, and everyone she knew fell in love with her, Mark was a little bugger though… if there was mischief to be had, he found it! He loved to laugh though, and you couldn't stay mad at him, even when the practical jokes he played were directed at you!
Luke was 3, almost 4, and already the darling of the family, he couldn't do anything wrong! He had a vicious streak a mile wide and was a sly git to boot, if he ever got caught out he was always ready to blame someone else, and it was usually ME so dad would believe him… after all I was just 'that bastard'
It happened one Friday afternoon, Dad had passed out on the sofa, his usual afternoon occupation after the morning hair-of-the-dog, he would sleep for a few hours and then rise in the early evening and drink until he passed out again, mum worked in a café in town, 6 days a week, 8 hours a day, and she would come home tired, and have to face looking after the house as well as cleaning up her husband, and if she even looked at him wrong she would be walking around with a black eye for the next few days… back then the police wouldn't have got involved even if someone had dared to report him… which as far as I know, no one ever did.
I had been kept behind at school, a project I had been supposed to complete at home and hand in had 'gone missing' and the teacher wanted to talk to me… I had expected a dressing down for late work, but no, he wanted to know if there was anything he could do to help… he had seen the bruises, and he knew the situation at home, though it was Chicago we lived in a close knit community, everyone knew what was happening behind the closed doors.
When I finally convinced him to drop it, that I would be out of there the second I was able, and that I had dreams of attending the Air Force academy, and if I couldn't get in, just join up and work my way through the ranks, he promised to be on hand to help when the time came and he gave me a lift home.
Not many people had cars back then, especially not school teachers, but this one was from money, and he worked because he wanted to, not because he had to. We drew up just after dad woke from his 'nap' something had happened… I never did find out what… and he was looking for ME to blame.
However even HE could see that I couldn't have done it, not being there and all, so Mark was next in line for blame, I got the feeling it was another one of Lukes stunts, but like I say, I never found out for sure.
Anyway the teacher had words with dad, warning him that if I came to school bruised on Monday morning he would call the welfare and report him for working on the side… dad hadn't done a days work since the day they kicked him from the force, but he daren't lose the money that the state was paying him to keep his family.
He locked Mark in the cellar, it was cold and dark down there, no light at all, no windows. We hadn't been able to afford coal and it was still summer so all that was left was the thick choking dust that rose up and stopped you breathing if you moved around too much.
By 10pm Mark was crying, he wanted out, I grabbed some bread and cheese from the larder and was just about to unlock the door when HE caught me! He opened the door to the cellar and Mark tried to rush out… the vicious bastard pushed him back and shoved me in after him, he locked the door and we could hear him shouting at mum not to allow us out, nor to give us food or water until Sunday evening at the earliest.
Mark had fallen down the stairs when dad shoved him, when I eventually found him he was still, his head was wet, and I knew he had hurt himself badly. I kicked and screamed at the door for hours, but all that happened was dad kicked the door and told me to shut up!
I heard Mark call to me, it must have been early on Saturday morning, he said he was cold. I made my way to him and wrapped him in my arms as best I could… he shivered for the longest time, and then…eventually…he stopped.
When they opened the door on Monday morning I was still sat, holding my dead brother, covered in his blood. The doctor was called when I wouldn't let them take him from me, and he called the police, for once dad was sober, it scared the crap out of him, and he was feeling so hung over he told the truth, but they let him go, they said it was an accident and that he was 'punished enough' with the death of his child. Eventually the doc gave me an injection and put me out, we were both taken from the house, but I refused to talk to anyone for days.
The teacher had a 'friend', they lived together, secretly… we would call him a psychiatrist or a grief councillor nowadays, the teacher picked me up from the hospital and took me to his house to see him, I stayed with them for a while and eventually I started to interact with my surroundings again, he was the one who persuaded mum to send me to my grandparents full time. He threatened my father… I don't know what with, but he eventually agreed and I moved to Minnesota.
The kids wrote often and every summer I would come down and visit with the teacher and his friend, and keep in touch with the others, and that was when I stopped backing down to him, he would get in my face, try to throw me out of the house, but I would just ignore his existence… he hated that, but he daren't touch me any more.
Slowly I lost touch, by the time I entered the AF academy, sponsored by my old teacher and his doctor friend, it was cards at Christmas and an occasional hour or so over a couple of weekends every year, I tried to get closer when Gracie got married, but I could tell with Michael away a lot and her staying put to 'look after mum and dad' nothing had changed, and when mum eventually died, I stopped altogether.
He shuddered, the thousand yard stare he had had in his eyes from the minute he started telling the story died, and in it's place was a man who had seen too much suffering and death in his life, and was weary of it all.
She had cried several times during the narrative, she had felt the pain of loss when her mother died, but she felt now her suffering was nothing compared to his, no matter how much Jacob had pushed her away she had known he loved her… Jack had no such solace.
She drew him to his feet, and without even thinking that they had had nothing to eat since lunch she drew him into the bedroom and into her arms, she held him all night, to let him know he was safe, and when he eventually slept, close to dawn she silently wept for him.
OoΩoO
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