The Chase

By David Goldstein

(Published in print as Sharing Orion)

I am Aiden Eason, and I have something to tell you - Never underestimate your ability to be shocked. Never be surprised when you fail to predict the outcome of your day. They say of fighter pilots who smack the side of a mountain at night, "At least they died relaxed." If I could only be so lucky. I once was a fighter pilot, I was married to Chloe, the most beautiful woman you can imagine. We lived the perfect charmed life together. We had just made yet another military move to a new station in North Carolina. With each move we saw the same faces and rekindled old friendships. Life was good, very good.
Then on one Saturday night I took my beautiful bride to a masquerade ball. Less than one week later, Chloe was picking up the pieces of her shattered life. Surprised? Wait till you read the next sentence. My buddy was lustfully smitten with Chloe. Shocked? I said she was the most beautiful woman you can imagine. Where was I? you ask. Like I said, never be surprised when you fail to predict the outcome of a day in your life. I am Aiden Eason and this is our story.

The Chase is fast paced story of fighter pilots, fast jets, love, tragedy, and triumph.
This is the epic story of Aiden and Chloe Eason. While on a training mission over the Atlantic, Aiden and his Weapon System Officer (WSO) Casey, are forced to eject from their aircraft. As they fall from the sky, Casey watches Aiden fall through a cloud deck with a parachute malfunction - presumably to his death. What no one knows is that Aiden survived.
Meanwhile, Chloe is forced to pick up the pieces of her shattered life. It becomes Aiden’s mission to get the urgent message to Chloe that he is alive! The Chase takes the reader on a thrilling, fast-paced adventure. Prepare for the unexpected!

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Goldstein
• Release date: Feb 5, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465985163

David Goldstein

David Goldstein is a fighter pilot in the US Air Force. He has a Bachelors in Aerospace Engineering from the University of Maryland, and a Masters in Aviation Operations from Embry Riddle Aeronautical University. He has logged over 2500 hours in the T-37, F-15E, and F/A-18. David lives with his wife and two children in Virginia

Book preview

Chapter 19 - Pickup Trucks and Freedom

Chapter 20 - Lucky

Chapter 21 – Living the Dream

Chapter 22 – Destroyer of Hearts

Chapter 23 – The Dream Trespasser

Chapter 24 – You’re Mine Now

Chapter 25 – The Scorpion

Chapter 26 – Noble Eagle

Prologue

I saw you today for the first time. I was in a 7-Eleven. You were in line in front of me. Your hair was short blonde and wrapped your face. You wore an Oklahoma State University sweat shirt – which you obviously had taken a pair of scissors to at one point. The combination of your low cut jeans and that shirt… let’s just say it was memorable. I could smell your perfume as I stood there in line behind you. Don’t blame me for not saying anything, it’s pretty impossible to make conversation about your Big Gulp. After you paid, you turned and looked at me, grabbed your drink and walked out the door. That look, it was so neutral, not a smile, which would have sent my heart racing. It was not a scowl or glare, which would have crushed me then and there. It was just a glance. How do I read that? By the way, there was definitely a pause. You looked, paused, and then turned away. You hesitated, I’m sure of it. During that pause was my opportunity. That single second handed to me on a platter, I can’t wait to thank you for that. Thank you very much for the open door. I’m not sure how I could have let it close, when you were so inviting for that single second. You basically threw yourself at me, I’m not sure why I didn’t respond. I know, I took too long. What was I waiting for? Honestly.

I’ve been kicking myself, why didn’t I say anything? or bump into you, or pull your hair, kick you in the shin, something. Now I just have to hope and pray I see you again. Love at first sight? Now I believe.

I generally don’t write, but I’m writing this down because one day I will marry you, and on that day, I’ll give this letter to you. See you then.

Aiden.

P.S. I’m sure you remember, but I was wearing blue jeans, a white T-Shirt and a baseball cap, and I too had a Big Gulp. I’m sure you’re writing a similar letter right about now, and I just want to clarify that when we were at the soda machine and I looked to my right, I saw you staring at me. I paused as well, a second or so, as I remember. What were you waiting for?! It was only because my hands started shaking that I quickly looked back toward the soda machine, without smiling.

Chapter 1 - Passion Ignited

"I’m not sure when it was I became lost. How I lost you is still a mystery to me. All I know, is that I miss you terribly, and hope to have you back again one day. I just hope and pray that it’s not too late."

- Aiden Eason in a letter to his wife

SATURDAY, LATE AFTERNOON.

She purchased a new dress for the ball, a flirty piece that he wouldn't recognize.  It was black and form fitting, accentuating the beauty of her curves.  She liked the amount of cleavage it showed off. A long slit up the side allowed her leg to show flirtatiously.  She was eager to find what this night had in store. No matter what, it was going to be fun, and then some. She even had her nails done up for the night.  She liked what she saw in the mirror with her makeup complete.  Too bad she had to cover such a good job with the silly masquerade mask.

As Chloe stepped to her car, the sky was still lit in pale blue with flashes of yellow from the setting sun, the air was warm.  It was the kind of night one appreciated after leaving an over-air conditioned restaurant.  Simply put, it was the perfect evening, 'non-British’ as they would say.  She left a light trail of perfume as she clicked towards her silver Volvo SUV.  She was supposed to meet him there, and she couldn’t wait. She drove with the windows down, the evening air washed her face with warmth. She could still vividly recall the chill of sleet and sting of chapped lips, there wasn’t a warm evening for the three years they lived in England. Now she drove the typical American winding two lane. These things they yearned for and waited on for so many years. She turned the radio on, this is relaxing... so relaxing, she sank into the leather seat, another perfect moment.

That’s how it happens, when your guard is down, when you least expect it, when nothing could possibly go wrong at this perfect moment. SMACK, a noise from beneath, and the car began sliding and swerving. She tried to get control of the vehicle, the back end was overtaking the front of the SUV, she was pressed against the side door, trying to steer.  The world was in slow motion around her, her mind racing five times faster than the scene unfolding outside her car. The screech of tires morphed into her own scream. Lucid clarity revealed the intricate details of leaves on trees lining the road. Her lungs froze in place trapping the air of what might be her last breath. The car lurched to a stop in a sideways skid, tipping and then slamming back down on all four tires. The hood of the car was just inches from the guard rail, which protected cars from falling into a small creek.

Thick black skid marks trailed a weaving pattern up to her car. Her breathing was still panicked and sharp. She put the car in reverse and slowly cut the wheel and backed away, and then pulled forward. Slowly rolling to the gravel shoulder of the road, the flat tire thumped as she rolled off the main traffic lane.  She still had a white knuckle grip on the leather steering wheel, her chest was heaving as she tried to catch her breath. 

In her rear view mirror a pick-up truck pulled to a stop behind her, the gravel under its tires popped as it rolled to a stop. The door opened, he stepped out of the pick-up and walked towards her SUV.  Her eyes fixed on him in her rear view mirror as her heart still pounded. He was shaking his head back and forth, as if to say ‘Holy crap! You scared the shit out of me!’ He wore faded blue jeans, a baseball hat, cowboy boots, and a white T-shirt with no logo, nothing on it, just the shadows from his muscles.  Her eyes captured his in the rear view mirror.  He slapped twice on the back side of the SUV. Pop the trunk so I can get the jack out, he called from outside.  She reached over and hit the release button.  He lifted the gate, and got the jack.  Her gaze shifted from the rear view mirror to the side mirror as he went to work on the flat rear tire - the cause of her out of control skid. 

As he worked the lug nuts of the flat tire, she stared.  Her mind was still reeling from what had happened, and her breathing was deep and labored. Why am I still sitting in the car?  Why can't I muster myself to move out of my seat?  Why am I just staring at him?  As he worked the jack in the summer heat, his muscular arms glistened, the veins on his arms spoke of strength, his skin was a deep bronze.  His white T-shirt shielded little from her prying eyes. She realized how long she had been taking the sight of him in, but didn't look away.  He stopped.  Why is he stopping?  Then he looked up, his eyes trapping hers in the mirror.  She quickly averted her eyes away.

You gave me quite a scare, I’m glad I was here to help though. His tone was comforting, he smiled at her reflection in the mirror. A wave of embarrassment flooded over her. When she looked back he was finishing his work, his hands were covered in grease from the tire.  The sweat on his face flashed with reflections of the setting sun. The white T-shirt now took on the quality of a second skin, plastered to him and revealing all. Her mind now paused on lustful intentions. A flash of his hands on her thighs, he tightly grips her, she presses his chest with her hands.

She rebounded back to reality with deliberate self-denial.  What should I say? I wonder if he wants me to push this forward? 'Thank you so much', 'Can I do anything to repay you?'... 'I'd do anything to repay you'- she kept her laughter inside. How should she thank this good Samaritan. Another image flashed in her mind.  She's looking into his eyes, his shirt is pulled up exposing his tan abs, her face so close she can feel the heat. Her hands move to his waist, her mouth partially opening, wanting for a first kiss. 

Slam! The hatch closed. Drive safe now! Hopefully we’ll run in to each other again. He woke her from her day dream with laughter in his voice.  I guess it just wasn’t our time yet, she smiled.

Hopefully so. She quipped. He was looking over his shoulder smiling, and then walking back to his truck.  His faded jeans were thickly creased behind his knees, his narrow waist accentuated his shoulders, she was smitten.

Earlier that night, she stepped out of the shower and toweled off. Her skin was tan, she squirted thick oil on her chest and legs and rubbed it in. It left her with a wet bronze quality, and a smell of coconut. Her hair was blond, a new cut she just got earlier that day, it was different than the longer style she’d worn for years now, but she knew he would like it a lot. It was short in the back and curved around the sides of her face. She styled it with gel leaving her hair with a straight and wet look. Red nails, and red lipstick. Her eye shadow accentuated her green eyes – readying them to captivate those who would glimpse them. Her eyes truly were amazing deep green pools of desire, or lust, or love, or whatever you wished to see in them. Brilliant green, it was not uncommon to hear, ‘My god look at those eyes.’ Thick lashes on this night would elicit and yield double takes from those unfortunate married men who would be caught and smacked by their less fortunate wives. Few women could hold a candle to her in any room she would step into. She fastened on large hoop platinum earrings - It takes guts to wear these things she thought. A simple one piece hammered platinum necklace, and strappy heels accented her outfit.

Now she was driving down the road, her mind still revolving around the cowboy in the baseball hat, what a gentleman. He didn’t even look in the cab to see me, Jerk. She imagined her sideways glance at him as he looked into the car, and him, catching sight of her blond hair, the nape of her neck, her chest.

She drove the long and winding tree-lined road up to the Worthington estate, a converted plantation mansion. She parked around the side of the house, dozens of cars were already there. She reached for her mask, an eye cover. It was black with an ornate silver design on one side, a silver symbol resembling a musical note accented the glossy black. She tied the mask on with its black ribbon, eyeing herself in the car mirror. Catching her reflection in the window as she exited the car, she stopped. I don’t think he’ll even recognize me tonight: a new dress he hasn’t seen, a new hair-do, the half mask. I think my skin is even a shade darker. She smiled to herself and turned away from her reflection.

As she made her way across the parking lot, she heard a loud engine closing in from the driveway. It was a mammoth old Bronco on oversized tires, sporting a poorly done camo paint job. Shiny mockups of air-to-air missiles were attached to either side of the truck. Colorful fighter squadron emblems were fixed to the front doors. The truck lurched to a stop with the front tires resting on a manicured flowerbed. After a few moments, four finely dressed officers exited the vehicle. They each wore eye covers; however, theirs were more reminiscent of bandit masks, rather than those to be worn at a masquerade ball.

‘Standard’ Chloe thought and continued inside. The entrance hall of the mansion was immense. She entered the ball room, contemporary music was playing. There were several bars, and a dance area, islands of people were engaged in conversation. A maitre de with a tray of wine in crystal offered her ‘choices from our cellar.’ She picked a blush and then walked along towards a wall with large framed paintings. Marble pillars supported the high ceiling. She gazed around looking at all the people, suits and tuxedoes, everyone with their masquerade ball attire – masks included. It would still be a while until he arrived, she’d have to wait.

Someone grabbed her elbow Chloe!.. Oh, My, God! I almost didn’t even recognize you. It was Chloe’s good friend, Cathy, You look amazing!

Cathy! This is pretty hoity isn’t it? Chloe was happy to see Cathy’s familiar face, and then she recognized the couple standing alongside Cathy. Whitney! Kid! How are you guys?

Great, my goodness Chloe, it’s been years since we’ve seen you. Whitney wore a classy white dress and a thick Oklahoma accent, she had her hand draped in the crook of Kid’s arm. Kid didn’t choose to wear the formal tux worn by the other gents. In contrast to Whitney’s white ball room gown, Kid was wearing a leisure suit made of velour fabric. It was electric green in color, and at least a size and a half too small. He wore a matching green bandito mask.

Love the white shoes Kid. Chloe ribbed him.

Cathy started at her usual pace My shoes are killing me, Bill went to get me a drink and never came back. I saw him going outside with his buds and some cigars, and I still need a drink!

Cathy grabbed Chloe by the hand and dragged her towards the bar, talking a mile a minute. Did you know there are art galleries in this place? There’s like, fifty rooms, they have all sorts of art and stuff. The hors d’oeuvres rock too… So… I know you’re not here alone?

Um, no, I don’t think he’s here yet. Chloe was still scanning the crowd, hoping to spot him.

Two Bull Breezes pleases! The bar tender looked puzzled. It’s Vodka, Red Bull, and Cranberry Cathy smiled at the man. In spite of the commotion and the din of conversations and music, Chloe kept picturing who she referred to in her own mind as ‘her cowboy.’ Each time she let her mind go, she would see him. A wave of heat would flush her cheeks, retrieving her image, he strains against the wrench, next, her hands are on his stomach flat palmed, they lean into each other… This is ridiculous, she reluctantly denied herself again the pleasure of the day dream.

Cathy’s husband Bill swaggered up to Cathy and Chloe Hello ladies! He kissed Cathy on the cheek, and handed her the drink she had requested only thirty minutes earlier. He trained his eyes at Chloe. If he was wearing a mining hat, Chloe’s chest would have been brightly illuminated, the beams from his helmet flashlight bouncing off her in delight. My god, Chloe thought, just because you have a mask on, doesn’t mean I can’t draw the dotted lines from your eyes to my cleavage. Cathy’s open palmed whack on Bill’s forehead snapped him back to reality in an instant, and then he exclaimed, Chloe, Holy Crap! You look… different. He hugged her as she transformed from the object of ogling, to that of a close friend.

Hi Buzz. Chloe smiled at him widely.

Bill ‘Buzz’ Buchanan was very fit for his age. His black hair was thinner now and sparked with gray, baldness was slowly creeping up his temples. He was ‘distinguished’ with deep wrinkles extending from the corners of his eyes, his smile lines. These lines were the direct result of his bright smile, which was the direct result of his eternal exuberance. These lines etched in self-perpetuity complemented the wondrous smile itself. It seemed he was always wired and happy, Cathy’s soul mate. Well ladies if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be outside with the guys solving the problems of the world.

That means he wants another smoke break Cathy said. How are you guys settling in? Because if you need any help, Bill and I are so there.

Chloe’s voice filled with enthusiasm, Actually, I’m on cloud nine here, it’s just so good to be back in the States. House hunting took us forever. I was about sick of billeting life.

Tell me about it. That mini-stove, forget it. We were so sick of fast food by the time our month was up.

Chloe laughed out loud Actually the fast food was kind of a perk. I just hated living for a month in that small musty room. We finally found a house and we just moved in last week.

Congrats on the house!

Thanks, it’s amazing, I’m so excited about it. We’ve got a hot tub and a pool! You’ve got to come over. Hey, bring the kids too! How are Zack and Chelsea?

You would not believe how big they’re getting, it’s ridiculous… All right chica, finish that off, I want to dance. Cathy moved her hips to the music.

Chloe was more than happy to have found a friend at the party. It seemed that being left alone with her own thoughts was counter-productive at this point. With someone to talk to, at least her mind wouldn’t reach back and grasp her ‘cowboy’… but it just felt so good to think about him. She had never been a ‘visual’ person, but that image, those jeans.

The beat of the music thumped, the floor was getting crowded. They started to dance. A new song started playing and more people floated on to the dance floor. Chloe and Cathy were dancing when a young guy came up to join them. Smiles were exchanged… and then he started dancing. He was dancing like something she’d never seen before, ever. The song he was dancing to, was not the song playing on the speakers. His arms and legs flailed and jutted in all directions. Just, then Chloe felt a hand on her waist. She turned, a tux, I think I met him? She questioned herself. Black tux, no tails, scotch print bow tie, sandy colored hair, she recognized him as one of the clowns who arrived in the ridiculous camo truck. He placed his hands on her waist. May I have this dance?

Sure she smiled. She motioned to Cathy and her new dance partner, who presently was doing a dance that could only be named Kung-Foo Jello. He’s something else huh?

Yeah that’s my bud, Kevin Kelly we’re both new to the squadron. He smiled and then offered his hand, I’m Casey, Casey Johnson.

This was no cowboy, but he’d do as a dance partner for now.

Hi Casey, nice to meet you, I’m Chloe. She subconsciously allowed herself to slip back into the temptation of the thought as she danced. In her mind, her finger tips slide just under his belt line on those jeans, he pulls her closer, her chest brushes his pecs. He can see the sheen on her chest. The sheer satin fabric of her dress is smooth on his hands. He didn’t dare move closer, their bodies touching would be too much. The beat is pulsing, their bodies move to it. She’s bumping to the beat, an accidental brush. She’s beautiful. Her chest is perfectly lifted and pressed by that dress, it’s mouthwatering. His mouth yearns for her neck.

His pulse quickens.

He can smell her perfume, You smell like… coconut.

Oh, yeah she laughed. I put some oil on, it always seems to be a hit.

He quipped I can’t imagine why? He then continued, all too eager to provide an answer to his own rhetorical question. It’s Pavlovian, men smell that scent, and our minds can only go to one of two places. He raised his pointer finger. One; tanning oil, bikinis on the beach, and two… he stopped himself. It just brings an image, you know what I mean.

Well then, hope you enjoy that image. She smiled as she delivered the line. She learned that lesson somewhere; deliver any message with a smile and it will be well received. Like now, ‘enjoy the image,’ but I’m walking away, smiling. Delivered any other way it would have sounded bitchy and icy cold. Body language went a long way - If you knew how to work it. Chloe was the queen of body language. All Chloe wanted now, was the man she’d been waiting for all night.

Casey watched her smile as she walked away, she’s clearly into me, he mused to himself. It’s like an invitation to come on over and play.

Your Bull Breeze miss. The bartender offered Chloe the drink.

Chloe’s former dance partner pulled up beside her. Hi Chloe, so you’re new here as well? He pulled up the bar stool next to hers. Casey Johnson still got carded when he went to buy alcohol. Girls came easy to him, he disarmed them with his boyish good looks, and where most would falter, he could follow through. He had a winning smile, and he had the gift of leading conversation. It was said about him If you talk non-stop, of course one or two funny things are going to come out, he’s just stacking the odds. He wore cologne when he went out to a club, and to the grocery store, and to the gym, and once to the squadron. He endured several weeks of ridicule for the latter, and never ever repeated the offense. Casey was now trying his follow through with Chloe, I’ve been here a few months already. You’re going to love it here, the beach is beautiful.

I’ve already been. Chloe showed off the tan on her arms.

Nice. Casey observed with honesty.

Casey’s face lit up, Check it out, I just got a new jet ski, I can’t wait to take it out in the bay tomorrow. …Cast the bait and see if she bites.

Oh wow, are you serious? I love jet skis.

You should come sometime, jet skiing. Casey, arched his back slightly, Like I said, I’m a guy, I love anything with an engine and speed.

Chloe retorted, Right, so its engines, anything fast, and coconut oil.

Casey blushed with a smirk Yeah, that too, but not in that order. He burst out laughing. His eyes glanced back down at her cleavage. His mind raced at the cause of his attraction, it’s the oil, her skin is electric, or magnetic, or gravitational, or it just causes me to get caught staring at her boobs.

Out of nowhere a maraschino cherry smacked Casey right in the forehead. Casey and Chloe snapped to their left, and as they did a second cherry landed in Chloe’s drink. A brown haired fellow standing at the other end of the bar, quickly turned to look away, it was Kid in his tight green velour suit. Realizing he had nowhere to look away to, he randomly glanced around, and finally made what should have been awkward eye contact with his two targets. He waved and popped a cherry into his mouth.

Casey laughed, That over there is Kid.

Hey Kid! You can’t hide with that awesome suit on you know! Chloe yelled across the bar, waving, not revealing she already knew of Kid and his antics. Kid smiled back with cherry plastered across his teeth.

Chloe, have you seen the gardens out back? They’re pretty sweet. …Please say you haven’t seen them, please say...

Um, no I haven’t.

Jackpot. Casey blurted out, Let’s go. he jumped up, Come on, they’re pretty wicked. He offered his hand to help her off her barstool.

They walked towards the large glass doors leading to the back of the mansion. She didn’t want to be gone long, but this would at least pass the time. The back patio was stone, with stone railings, a curved staircase led down to a large fountain. A naked statue adorned the center stage of the water works. Casey paused half way down the stairs and appeared to admire the Botticelli-esque figure, I don’t care how much money I ever have, I’ll never have a statue like that in my back yard.

Chloe burst out laughing, That’s not what I thought you were going to say… I think I’d like to have two of them. Maybe more, one on either side of the front door, a few for the back yard, I’d have one in the living room too.

They laughed as they continued down the stairs. This whole masquerade thing, it does afford a certain amount of anonymity doesn’t it? Chloe was just thinking the same thing. The situation was more vexing for her, unable to quickly spot her man. She was supposed to meet him here, ‘later’ he said. Anticipation always seemed to work out well for him. She and Casey walked through neatly trimmed hedgerows, with breaks of flowers. The noise from the party was now lightly muffled by distance, and the night air. The garden smelled thick of pine and flowers. Casey’s hand brushed hers as they walked, that very moment she missed a step in the dim light and stumbled. Casey caught her just in time, stopping her fall.

Thank you.

His hand was still on her waist, his heart raced. His hands moved to the small of her back, as he pulled her up. She braced herself with her hands on his shoulders so as not to fall.

I should be getting back. She barely knew this guy, but at the moment it seemed he was definitely getting the wrong idea about what was going on.

Right, we should. He answered in disappointed agreement. They made their way back to the mansion. Chloe’s quickened gait reflected her maddening anticipation for her ‘cowboy’. She wanted him now.

Casey decided it would be best to let this one simmer for a while, Well, I’m going to go hang a bit with the bros. I’ll catch you later?

Sure. Chloe smiled back.

Casey smiled and walked off. ‘It’s just a matter of time,’ he thought to himself.

Cathy came up, Where were you chica?

Oh, I was outside with Casey, checking out the gardens.

Pretty cool, I wouldn’t mind having one or two of those statues out there.

So far the night was a string of obscene day dreams. One thing was for sure, anticipation was a potent aphrodisiac. He’d have quite the reward when he finally showed up… and then, she stopped in her tracks, she saw them, those same cowboy boots, on a man now clad in a tux. He was talking with Bill, Casey, Kid, and a few others she didn’t recognize. Buzz had his hands on his hips and wore a shit eating grin.

By now, group think had removed face masks from nearly all the party goers, and all of the fighter pilots. Aided by a fine single malt, Buzz was taking the reins of the conversation Bucky, Kid, and I, all went to pilot training at Vance Air Force Base back in the day. At this time in his life no one knew anymore if Bucky always drove a pickup and wore cowboy boots, or if he just took on these attributes as a result of his name. In addition to Bucky, Buzz, Casey and Kid, the conversation circle now included Kevin Kelly, ‘Beaver’ Pelt, ‘Jersey’ Esposito, and ‘Crotch’. Bucky had flown with Kid and Buzz in previous assignments. He’d seen Casey in the hallway of the squadron but they never really met until now. Bucky extended his hand, Hi, I’m Aiden Eason, they call me Bucky, nice to meet you.

"Casey, Casey Johnson, and that’s my real name, hopefully soon here they’ll get around to giving me a call sign."

Crotch jumped in, "Yeah, our front running options are Spankin’ and Drippin’. Oh the possibilities are endless, it’s not every day a great name like Johnson ends up in the squadron."

Casey knew not to pick this fight, any name resisted would surely stick like glue. No, he had to endure the ridicule, for now, and hope for the best, perhaps ‘Big’ or ‘Huge’… it could happen, ‘Throbbin’ would be okay, he thought.

Bucky, was new to this squadron, but all fighter pilots are cut from the same cloth. In this