One More Time

By Anthony Skur, Jr

The Air Force doesn’t want him but the CIA does...to ferry Corsair fighters to the French for their battle against the Viet Minh. The wing man he chooses has a skiing accident. The logical alternative is his friend’s beautiful wife Tina. The routine ferry missions become combat missions. Their friendship becomes a never ending challenge for Bartholomew. His bag of luck has no answer to slow this good looking mortal’s advances.

Peggy plays nurse maid to Tina’s husband, grows Thompson Industry and when called upon, kidnaps a senior American representative in Laos. Her suspicions of Tommy and Tina’s relationship seem to be right on the money. A reconciliation turns sour.

Bartholomew reveals his status to Tommy and that act does not please his Creator.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anthony Skur, Jr
• Release date: Apr 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311584489

Book preview

ONE MORE TIME

by

Tony Skur

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Greatest Generation Publishing

One More Time copyright ©2014 by Tony Skur

Cover design by Russell C. Connor and Dark Filament Publishing Startup

To find out how you can get yourself published, visit us at darkfilamentpublishing.com

All applicable copyrights and other rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, in any form or by any means, for any purpose, without the express, written permission of the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review, or as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law.

This is a work of fiction. While some names, places, and events, are historically correct they are used fictitiously to develop the storyline and should not be considered historically accurate. Any resemblance of the characters in this book to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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SELECTED CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 5

Chapter 10

Chapter 15

Dedication

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CHAPTER 1

Tommy Thompson's twenty month old son Trey seemed determined to interrupted the mayor’s 1953 Armistice Day’s speech. His wife Peggy’s bouncing the little guy didn’t stop him from crying out. The hot air coming out of the politician’s mouth didn’t effect the cold blast of air ricocheting off the tombstones in the Madison, Wisconsin cemetery. Tommy noticed his neighbor Rollie Simmons, who lost his right hand storming the beach at Anzio, had a tear frozen on his cheek, his eyes staring at nothing in particular. Two rows over stood big Joe Marsh, best man at his wedding. His three finger grip was the result of a bayonet trust he deflected during trench warfare in the first war to end all wars. Peggy’s father was next to Joe. A World War One marine, John almost lost both legs in France charging the German-held high ground in the Black Forest. Tommy remembered his dad’s contribution as a marine machinegunner whose wounds weren’t visible but required bottle after bottle of brandy to heal or stop the nightmares.

But it was Peggy who first noticed the man with the his overcoat collar turned up. She nudged Tommy and gripped his hand so tightly that he was brought out of his recollections with a wince of pain. His gaze now focused on the man who considered him to be the luckiest son of a bitch in the military. Bob Smith, a State Department spook who choreographed several clandestine missions starring Captain Tommy Thompson, an Air Force fighter pilot.

Tommy reflected on his flying experiences during World War Two and Korea that brought him numerous decorations for his flying skills and more for his daring and bravery after he was shot down. Five times his aircraft sliced through trees, tumbled down embankments, plowed thorough farmland or set fires to the hedges in France and Belgium…but, he was quick to point out his crashes were always due to ground fire.

Peggy trembled as she watched Smith gesture for them to come to him. She held back, remembering not only the wounds her husband received during his adventures with Smith, but the days she spent agonizing when Tommy was declared missing in action. As the gap between them narrowed, she shouted, No.

Her shout was picked up by the crowd who were answering the mayor’s plea for …no more wars.

No more wars, they chanted. No more wars.

Bob closed the distance and greeted Tommy with Maybe just one more time. Would you two join me for lunch at the Concourse Hotel? They have a wonderful buffet.

Peggy answered, Smith, haven’t you messed up our lives enough? I’m not the one complaining that his career in the Air Force is in ruins. In fact I’m hoping that he’ll stay home and run Thompson Industries. Please just go away.

I can’t do that Peggy. I need him…the country needs him.

Tommy shrugged his shoulders as he let go of Peggy’s hand.

Damn it Tommy, go. I’ll pack your bag. She punched Smith on the shoulder, turned on her high heels and stomped into the crowd.

You have her trained well, Smith snickered, grabbing Tommy by the arm as they walked.

I had hoped that our business with each other was finished when I left you in Manila.

France’s Indonesia war is turning sour now that the monsoon season is ending. They need twelve more C-119’s…

I’m not the man you want for that job, Tommy interrupted.

And twenty-five AU-1.

I give up, what’s an AU-1?

It’s a heavily armored ground support version of the navy’s F4U Corsair. The French want them for interdiction around the Bien Dien Phu compound. I figured with your P-47 experience, you’d be our representative.

Our meaning Civil Air Transport, Inc.?

Of course. Let’s get into my car. My blood has really thinned out this last year working in the jungle and I’m freezing my ass off. You drive…this is your neck of the woods. Get us to a restaurant.

~ ~ ~

Tommy my boy, you’re just picking at your food…try some of that glazed salmon. It’s delicious

Wiping his mouth with his napkin, Tommy replied, Enough of the small talk. Tell me about the mission…especially the role of the Corsairs.

The Navy will release them after the first of the year and you and one other pilot will ferry them from Yokuska Naval Air station, Japan to Tourane Air Base in Vietnam.

You'll only need one other pilot? How many birds is the Navy giving you?

We’ll end up with a couple dozen, but in trying to keep this a low profile event, out of the public’s eye, Washington insists we keep the number of people involved to a minimum.

Who’s the other pilot?

I’ll leave that up to you. You haven’t got an old P-47 jock in you back pocket do you?

Sipping his coffee, Tommy thought for a second and asked, If I give you a name can you find him? I lost track of him and his wife after we mustered out of the Army Air Corp back in forty-five.

What’s his name?

His name is Amos Jackson and his wife is Tina. They were headed for Wyoming to add some oil wells to the thirty or forty they already owned.

Well, if they paid their taxes, I’ll have the information you need on your desk tomorrow morning. I’m leaving for Washington tonight and I’ll see you in Japan on the third of January. I’ll have first class tickets for you and Amos sent to your homes.

What if I can’t convince him?

Then I will. Bob grabbed the check, a glazed doughnut, and left.

Tommy signaled for a refill on his coffee and wondered what the hell he had volunteered for. Then, as he recalled the time he volunteered to be bait for Amos, he chuckled. He had just shot down two ME-109’s and had the third in his sights when his guns jammed. He overshot his prey as his wingman, Amos, yelled Make an easy turn left. He did, and Amos got the first of his two kills that day as he acted as a decoy. The sound of a turboprop airliner rattled the windows, jogging the memory of a mock jet fighter battle over the Yuma desert. The test flight center had paired him and Amos in P-80’s against a flight of two captured ME-262‘s. Violating several of the test parameters, they bested the Navy pilots and landed at a secret air base. The memory of the fistfight that followed brought his fingers to a bump on his nose. What a great day, he recalled.

As he stepped into the kitchen, Peggy asked the same question. Just what in the hell did you volunteer for this time?

Honey, I’ll be just ferrying some Navy fighters to the French. And if I can convince Amos…

Amos, she squealed. You found Amos and Tina. Where are they? Are they okay? I want to call Tina.

I won’t have that information until tomorrow and I don’t want you calling her until I talk to Amos in person. Whatever decision he makes, you can talk to Tina right after that.

Well, my lord and master, if that’s what you want, I think I can abide by your wishes…but don’t try cuddling up to me until I talk to her.

Tommy parked his car in the slot reserved for the President of Thompson Industries. He was the first to arrive, beating the Chief Executive Officer by two minutes. Since his dismissal from the Air Force, he tried hard to take on the duties expected of him except he hadn’t quite mastered getting the paperwork out of his in basket as quickly as the CEO, his wife, wanted.

He had just opened the envelope left by Bob Smith when Peggy asked, Well where are they…still in Wyoming?

Nope. Their current address is his grandfather’s farm in West Texas. Their telephone number is listed on this sheet. They’ve built a 5500 foot runway on the property…just long enough to land my Mustang. How about this for a compromise on our tiff? Give me until noon to get down there and then you can call Tina, okay?

Tommy could see her gray eyes looking directly at his nose as she promised, Okay. What he didn’t see was her hand behind her back with it’s fingers crossed.

~ ~ ~

Cruising at twenty-eight thousand feet in the clear was such a piece of cake that even Bartholomew couldn’t resist letting the air slide through his feathers. He had been on the alert ever since Smith engaged Tommy in another mission of interest at the highest level of government. Where had he heard that horse hockey before? But, as he stretched out on the fuselage, he’d worry about that later. Right now it was time to catch some sun rays.

Tommy squinted to focus on his airspeed indicator. Damn, that sun is bright, he muttered to himself as he crosschecked his engine instruments. He looked up just in time to see a blue and gray Mustang flash by his wingtip, pulling streamers as it banked hard to get on his tail. Over the emergency channel, he heard a familiar voice laugh, saying You weren’t always this easy.

I’m never easy, Amos, he grunted as he advanced his throttle and pulled six G’s straight up, rolling one hundred and eighty degrees trying to spot his adversary. The G forces had his oxygen mask down at the tip of his nose. His helmet’s visor snapped down and kept the mask skewed on his face Go channel six. We don’t want the world to hear me as I wax your skinny butt.

Bartholomew was hanging on to the rudder with one hand and his bag of luck with the other. The maneuver caught him by surprise and he involuntarily yelled, Oh my God.

What is it you need, Bartholomew?

Nothing Lord, it was a slip of the tongue.

If I wasn’t the creator, I would question My judgment on assigning you this task.

I know you can’t make mistakes Lord.

Now you’re judging me. Quit talking while you’re still ahead.

I’m on button six Tommy, and I lost you.

Easing the back stick pressure at the bottom of the loop allowed Tommy to slip behind Amos. Not to worry, I’m six o’clock and I’ll join on your left wing. Take me to your house, I’m sucking fumes. Leaving the frequency to cancel my flight plan. Be back in a minute.

Back on, Amos. Did my sweetheart break her promise and call Tina?

She mentioned something about her fingers being crossed. She also said she and Trey will be here for supper. She commandeered your company’s Cessna 310. You must have got the first one off the assembly line.

No, it was the tenth, and cost me way too much.

Have you got enough fuel for a flyby to impress my son Peter?

Sure...if we can chandelle up to a close pattern.

You got it, ace… Peggy let me in on that too…congrats…hang in there…here we go.

A wide eye blonde-haired nine-year-old chocked both aircraft and waited for his dad to dismount. Tommy could see the love these two lookalikes shared. Do I have the right to ask his dad to take six months of his time away from his family? He walked towards Amos and his son and smiled as Amos ordered, Detail attention. Father and son assumed the military position that would make a Marine envious.

Hand saluted, piped out Peter and a pair of hands greeted Tommy.

He returned the salute and then embraced his wingman of long standing then knelt and offered his hand to Peter, who ignored it and hugged his new found hero.

I understand that you and daddy will be going on a hush hush mission in the next month or so.

So where did you pick up that little gem of information?

Tina came forward and said, We had a family meeting and decided that you were such a good team during the war that ferrying the airplanes is the most natural choice for you two. Wrapping her arms around Tommy, she planted a kiss smack on his lips.

Where did all this information come from? Peggy didn’t get it from me.

Well partner, after Peggy called, we we received another call from some lady called Casey who said that tomorrow two Corsairs would land here with instructor pilots. They’ll be here for four days checking us out. She provided a little more mission data but not enough to satisfy us. So old buddy, satisfy our curiosity.

Not until you tell me how you got your P-51.

We did very good, oil well wise, in Wyoming…then after Granny died and with Tina more than a little pregnant, we wanted, like all good Texans, to have our child born in Texas. You remember I inherited the square mile from my grandfather, don’t you? This is where she delivered Peter. We then picked up some options in the Permian Basin and I needed transportation back and forth to east Texas, so I bought the damn thing. It provides a nice business expense, or so our account says. Tina and I have really enjoyed putting the Mustang through its paces.

You telling me that Tina’s checked out in it?

Hell, she’s got three hundred logged in the fifty one and five hundred more in the T-6. She really got the fever after that unauthorized trip we made in Florida.

Tina drove a huge Chevy Suburban with an ice chest filled with Lone Star long necks and bottles of Nihi orange. Half the time Tina faced backward listening to Tommy fill in the blank spaces on the mission. During those period of inattention to driving, Peter would grab the wheel and kept the three ton monster on the dirt road. She parked the vehicle in the four car garage between the Bentley and the Cadillac.

The house sure looks familiar, Tommy observed.

It should, Tina replied. Hope you’re not offended, but it’s as close a replication of the McCalisters’ house we shared in Destin, Florida. Maybe a couple thousand square feet bigger. We had so many good times there. Do you recall the steak dinner we had after Amos and I compared royalty checks? We laughed and scratched all night.

I remember because I paid for the steaks because I thought you two were broke. Remind me to collect that IOU. I also remember buzzing you and Peggy while you were sunbathing. I can’t believe you both were waving the tops of your bathing suits at us.

Neither could the chase pilot, Amos interjected.

Mom, did you really do that?

I won’t lie to you Peter, it was a foolish thing to do, she said, winking at Tommy. Changing the subject she added, We don’t have the Gulf of Mexico to swim in but we do have an Olympic size pool in the back. Come on in, Pedro will show you to your room. You don’t have to hurry. I sent one of the hands to the airport in the Lincoln to pick up Peggy and Trey.

Tommy let his mind wander