Lots of Luck Noblesse Oblige Reinter

By Ron Matejka

Two preteens share their first kiss. By high school, their lives go in opposite directions. Theyre now on a roller-coaster ride to reunite. Dan is a man with a complex and covert job. Sophie is a successful woman who is now struggling to start a new life. A small memento lures Dan to find his first love. All of Dan's experiences can't help him make the connection with Sophie. Their reunion is hindered by unexpected events that will have you wondering what else could possibly happen next to keep them apart. Their lives are sealed with an ending like no other love story.

Lots of luck figuring it out!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Inspiring Voices
• Release date: Oct 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781462409440

Ron Matejka

After forty years of working at a Southern California defense company, at the age of sixty-six, an inspiration and tapestry of memories from somebody from my past managed to become a story and go from my fingers onto paper. Her inspiration was part of God’s plan for me to write Lots of Luck. I hope the ending will have you enraptured in thought!

Book preview

Prologue

There is an appointed time for everything.

Ecclesiastes 3:1

Summer 2003

T he war against terrorism has not ended. The huge gray McDonnell Douglas C-17 was cruising at an altitude of twenty-eight thousand feet. Below was the cold and dark Atlantic O cean.

The moon was full, and its light cast a faint silver shimmer across the water below. The moon was low in the western sky, just above the semi-dark horizon. Its beam stretched from the far horizon directly to the approaching aircraft, leaving its path on the ocean. It was as if God had provided the pilots a roadmap to get home.

It was a relatively calm night for the Atlantic Ocean for that time of year. The ocean’s swell was gentle, and the ever-present whitecaps looked like buttercream frosting on an angel food cake. There were no clouds to hinder visibility for the pilots. A feeling of peace and serenity settled in the cockpit as both pilots gazed at the surreal sight ahead of them.

The flight was on its way from Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany to the United States. Four powerful jet engines pushed the huge aircraft, slicing through the skies at four hundred and fifty knots. Each massive jet left a vapor trail behind the aircraft like four white ruffled ribbons in the clear night sky.

A full moon reflected off each ribbon before slowly dissipating in the cold air. This flight and the next ten hours would have one homesick marine, Staff Sergeant Dan Mastik, wrestling with his thoughts and sentimental memories on his return home. One memory in particular was nestled in his pocket, something he had treasured since he was a teenager. That treasure and the memories it represented had journeyed with him on two deployments to the Middle East.

Dan’s love, trust, and faith in God—along with that very special memory in his pocket—had propelled him through some tough times and back to safety more than once. In those lonely and often terrifying moments, he would tightly clutch and hold that treasure in his hand and pray to God.

He didn’t realize it yet, but God’s plan for him was just beginning to unfold. There is a time for every event in one’s life, and Dan was about to find out what God’s plan was for him.

CHAPTER 1

Dan’s Flight Home

T he C-17 was an aircraft designed for heavy-lifting missions in times of war. It was capable of transporting many different types of payloads specifically meant for war. Its cargo might consist of hundreds of combat-ready troops, an M1A1 army battle tank, two Apache helicopters, multiple artillery pieces, or three Bradley armored vehicles. If not carrying troops or vehicles, it could also carry tons of war supplies on pallets that could be deployed to troops on the ground with a special low-altitude parachute drop system. It was also capable of landing or taking off on dirt landing strips of thirty five hundred feet or less. However, when the engineers designed this aircraft, they probably had no idea that someday one of its missions would be to save lives—not just to carry the tools of war to take l ives.

Several C-17s had been modified and reconfigured from heavy-lifting vehicles and cargo transports to flying hospitals with onboard intensive care units. The modifications and additions of the medical equipment and medical staff created a new mission and role for the huge aircraft. The wounded could now be treated while being airlifted from any combat zone. While in flight, the flying trauma center provided all the lifesaving capabilities that typically took place on the ground in a hot zone in Harm’s way.

From the danger of being in a field medical unit close to danger, the injured, like Staff Sergeant Dan Mastik, were now flown directly to Balad, Iraq, Landstuhl, Ramstein Air Base, or the States. With the lifesaving equipment—along with doctors and nurses who often had pistols strapped to their bodies while they were saving lives—these giant aircraft changed the way the military treated and saved the wounded in war and other conflicts.

Dan’s flight was not an ordinary combat heavy-lifting mission. The flight was not loaded with the tools of war; it held examples of what the tools of war could do to the flesh and bones of fighting men and women.

The flight Dan was on had a different kind of heavy-lifting mission. His flight home was not about how many tons of metal that could be lifted. This kind of heaviness couldn’t be weighed on a scale. This heaviness was the kind that affects the heart, mind, and soul. It would soon have a profound effect on a family, a loved one, a mother, a father, a husband, a wife, a brother, a sister, or a lover. It was a stark contrast to what the aircraft had originally been intended for.

For Dan, the flight was bittersweet. He was the lucky one. Aboard this flight, four flag-draped shipping cases held the remains of fallen warriors who had given their lives for their country. He was returning home alive, and they were not. It was an honor for him to share this flight with them.

On this particular flight, Dan would drift in and out of a restless sleep because of the pain medication he was taking to ease the ongoing deep pain in his right leg and thigh from the wounds he had received a few months earlier. The meds were somehow causing him to have vivid, amplified dreams and visions of events from his past, present, and future.

As he slept, many of the events from the past flooded his mind. At times his face was serene, and a smile would appear on his face while he slept. He was dreaming about some of his best memories, especially 1969 through 1978 in Banner, Colorado. He had spent his pre-teen and teenage years in the small town with his mom, dad, and brother. He went to Sunday school, church, junior high, and high school with the same gang of kids. As a teenager, his first real kiss had been with his first love, Sophie.

Some of the events of the past were not as spectacular and his smile would turn to a face of sadness. At the age of nineteen, he had packed his few belongings and left Banner, a small town in Colorado, with a broken heart and moved to California. Things got better for a short time; he went to college and met his wife. The marriage started off great. His three kids came before the marriage went sour.

His head twitched at these thoughts, and he squirmed in his seat as he wrestled with his thoughts. His face lost the smile. A frown appeared on his brow, and his smile turned to pursed lips. A few beads of perspiration started to form on his forehead. He forced himself to think about something else.

As quick as a bolt of lightning, Dan stirred in his seat and mumbled something. His eyes twitched a few times, but then his head gently turned, and he went back into a deep, peaceful sleep. He dreamed about his deployments to Afghanistan and Iraq—his missions, his injuries, and the chance meeting with another marine from his hometown.

That part of his dream brought him to a critical crossroads in his life. He was forty-five years old. It was time to leave the military and his covert connections with various black ops agencies and start a new life. Could this mean retirement for him? Events of the future would be a return to civilian life, new employment, and a new commitment to God. He had plans to start a foundation to help others. It was time for Dan to hammer his sword into a plow.

The culmination of all three events—past, present, and future—also included a girl from his past and how she had ended up back in his life during his last deployment. That girl, now a grown woman, would soon end up in his future. All three events were about to be revealed to him as his future started to unfold.

Dan had met Red, a marine, on his last mission in the beginning of 2002. The consequences of that meeting and their conversation were completely unexpected. Red had vividly reminded him of his deep feelings for a teenage girl who could no longer be contained as just a memory.

Sophie Sandori had lived down the block from him, and she had wished him lots of luck many years ago. In eighth grade, she gave him two things that were very special to him. One physical object had been with him for more than twenty-five years. Because of it, he had been blessed with good luck many times. The other was the memory of his first kiss. The memory of that kiss was so vivid that he often swore he could still feel her warm breath on his face and the softness of her lips on his as they shared that first kiss.

It was time to return at least one of the things to her. Would she understand? It was his appointed time to start his next mission. He had to find Sophie—if only to see her one more time. Perhaps another kiss was also in his future.

There were also a dozen wounded warriors aboard Dan’s flight. Some were on stretcher-beds, and some were sitting in seats. All of them were returning home, some for extended care and further treatment, or in the case of four shipping cases, a final resting place.

Lieutenant Colonel Joe Wallace and Major Ann Turnwall were escorting the four cases and their remains to Dover Air Force Base.

Before takeoff, Dan’s eyes had been fixed on the cases that had been delivered earlier and in a very solemn procession, placed next to the aircraft. As he stood silently by himself on the tarmac. The four soldiers had United States flags carefully draped over them as they silently rested on the tarmac before they made their way up the ramp escorted and carried by an honor guard. He couldn’t help thinking about what Sophie Sandori had written in his junior high school yearbook in 1975. My, how the years had gone by. Her words had a more profound meaning to him: To my best neighbor, lots of luck, Sophie.

The luck truly had been on his side on this deployment. The sweat was beginning to form on his forehead and under his camouflage utilities. He could not hold back his emotions or the tears that were welling up in his eyes. He came to attention, and his right arm went up very slowly from his side and came to rest on the brim of his hat. He gave the flag-draped cases his finest salute. He finished the salute and slowly lowered his arm to his right thigh. He reached up with his right hand and touched a lump in his desert camouflage utility shirt pocket. The memory of her words, and the treasure in his pocket, were also being escorted back home—not by an honor guard but by him. That treasure, a red, white, and blue beaded keychain—with his Purple Heart now attached on its ring—was headed back to its maker. His tears were bittersweet—sad tears for the fallen warriors and happy tears for his memories of Sophie.

A voice from somewhere behind Dan suddenly brought him back to reality. Sergeant, it’s almost time to board!

He turned around and noticed an officer approaching. He quickly came to attention and saluted.

The salute was returned. I’m Major Stevens, Chris Stevens. You look very familiar to me. Do I know you, Sergeant?

Yes, sir. I think I met you in Washington at a classified briefing.

Yeah, I think I remember you now. It’s Dan, right? If I remember right, only first names were used at that briefing. Anyway, I’ll be your pilot on this flight. Welcome aboard, Sergeant. I’m just finishing the preflight inspection. We will be taking off right after the honor guard loads our fallen heroes. Join me in the cockpit later on, and I’ll show you what makes this baby tick.

The major turned and walked under one of the huge wings and over to one of the huge jet engines.

Dan watched for a brief time as the major used a flashlight to inspect the part where the wing met the fuselage. He proceeded to the inboard jet engine and used the flashlight’s strong beam to gaze into the bowels of the engines. When he seemed satisfied with what he saw, he continued to the next engine and repeated the process.

Dan turned and faced the ramp. As he looked up the ramp, there was a soft glow emitting from the interior of the aircraft. He heard the sound of several vehicles coming from behind him. He turned around and saw the honor guard slowly approaching the aircraft in four black Humvees. Each vehicle stopped on the damp tarmac.

The six members in each Humvee—representatives from the marines, army, navy, and air force—all wore dress uniforms. As they deployed from the vehicles, they silently formed four groups and came to attention.

As a lieutenant colonel and major approached the formation, the light standards along the tarmac suddenly flashed as a signal for civilian and military personnel within view to stop what they were doing. There was no need to explain to anyone on the base what was about to take place.

The civilian workers removed their hats, put them over their hearts, and came to attention. The military personnel came to attention and executed slow salutes and held their positions. All cars and trucks on the tarmac came to a stop and turned off their engines. Equipment became respectively silent. A light drizzle started to fall; it was as if the soul of the base was softly weeping for the fallen heroes. The solemn scene had been repeated too many times. Personnel in the nearby buildings and hangars also stopped what they were doing out of respect for the fallen warriors. The rain drops collected on the huge aircrafts skin and then somehow collected and rolled down to the corners of the windshield as if the aircraft too was weeping.

The colonel gave a soft command, and the formation approached the flag-draped cases. He stopped the formation and gave another soft but stern command.

In a precise movement, members of each of the armed services branches approached the four cases.

The major went to two of the cases and gave a command. Six marines and six sailors approached two of the cases and stopped.

The colonel, six airmen, and six soldiers approached the remaining two cases.

Each formation silently waited for commands from the major and colonel.

At precisely the same time, a command was given, and the honor guard carefully lifted their respective cases. After they gave their commands, the honor guards proceeded slowly up the ramp, keeping the cases perfectly horizontal to the ground as they went up the ramp and entered the aft part of the fuselage. The cases were placed on special holders and gently fastened for their return home.

The formations returned to the tarmac and stopped.

The major said, Dismissed.

The tarmac lights flashed again, salutes of military personnel were returned, and the other activities that had stopped to honor the ceremony returned to what they had been doing. The light rain stopped as suddenly as it had started.

With the help of a cane, Dan started up the cold steep ramp. His right leg began to throb uncontrollably from the bullet wound in his calf and the deep punctures that had ripped through his upper thigh from the jagged shrapnel. The culmination of all his wounds was putting a tremendous amount of pressure on his leg as he struggled up the ramp.

He stopped on the ramp as his mind flashed back to that day. He froze as he went into a state of numbness; everything around him appeared to be in a state of semi-darkness as the events of that day replayed themselves like a movie in his brain. His frozen body twitched, and his face winced as he felt the piercing pains of the bullet and shrapnel entering his body. He heard the moans and groans of his wounded buddies.

Small-arms fire had hit Dan in the fleshy part of his calf. Luckily, it was a through-and-through wound that happened after he crawled out of the Humvee. His upper thigh had been pierced by numerous pieces of shrapnel from the improvised explosive device explosion that had been detonated by the enemy as the Humvee passed over its hidden position in the dusty dirt road. He didn’t remember much following the explosion except the blinding flash of bright white light that shattered the stillness. He vaguely remembered bursts of fire coming from numerous AK-47s; a soldier never forgets that sound. There was also the unmistakable sound of an incoming RPG—and the fear it carried.

The movie in Dan’s head vividly replayed the events of that day. Even with his wounds, he had somehow managed to pull the wounded and unconscious driver from the twisted, smoldering wreck as enemy bullets kicked up dirt around him. Somehow, he had magically found the strength to carry the wounded driver to safety.

In a daze—and driven by the special something that has driven other soldiers throughout history to do heroic and amazing feats under enemy fire—he joined the recon team. The recon team’s M41As had come to life with a staccato of return fire. The recon team had quickly taken up positions to defend themselves and drive back the enemy’s attack. The MP5 submachine guns and MGL grenade launcher were returning fire at the insurgents.

Dan noticed that the radioman, Drake, was severely wounded. Without a moment’s hesitation—and with no regard for his own safety and bullets flying all around them—he found the strength to carry his radioman to safety. Total darkness overtook him, and he collapsed.

As a result of the ambush, the driver, radio operator, a recon member, and Dan had all been wounded. All the body armor available was not enough to protect them from the IED explosion and the ambush. While recovering at the hospital, Dan found out that he had been nominated for the Navy Cross for saving two marines while under heavy enemy fire. A one-star general and his staff later came to his hospital room and presented him with the Navy Cross. Dan quickly removed the medal from his person and concealed it in his belongings.

As quickly as Dan had gone into the trance, the recording in his head suddenly stopped. He shook his head and tried to focus on going up the ramp. He slowly started to navigate himself up the ramp, using his cane and the cable handrails on the side of the ramp to steady himself.

He was about to reach the top of the ramp when he swore he saw an angel from God. A tall figure at the top of the ramp was backlit by the interior lights.

Dan stopped and tried to process the figure. Was it an angel? No, it was only an airman.

As the airman started to walk slowly down the ramp toward Dan, the overhead lights from the open ramp revealed his identity.

Hi. Let me give you a hand, Sergeant. A strong arm hooked onto Dan’s free arm. The tall blond airman in a blue air force flight suit assisted him to the top of the ramp.

At the top of the ramp, they stopped so Dan could regain his breath and strength. She’s pretty impressive. Right, sir? I still remember the first time I saw the insides of one of these babies.

The airman’s soft smile and blond hair reminded Dan of his surfing days in Southern California. Dan looked at the airman’s nametag. Not my first time to fly on one of these babies either, Patterson. But I have to agree with you; it’s still pretty impressive.

First name is Byron, Sergeant.

Mine is Dan.

Okay, Dan it is. Let’s get you to your seat. We’re about to button up and head back to the good old US of A. Byron pointed out the restroom, snack center, and refrigerator and assisted Dan to his seat. If there’s anything you need, let me know.

Dan settled into the seat and gave Byron a thumbs-up.

Byron’s smile widened before he left.

The rest of the aircrew was as busy as a colony of army ants as they prepared and secured everything inside the aircraft for takeoff.

Dan was the last passenger to board. All the other crew and passengers were in their seats or in hospital stretcher beds.

One of the airmen, a black female, went to a panel on the bulkhead and pressed a series of buttons. A warning bell rang out that indicated the ramp was about to be raised. The bottom entry ramp softly groaned and clanked as the ramp slowly started to rise up to meet the top part of the fuselage. Like a huge clam, the two pieces of intricate steel met and sealed shut.

Within a few minutes, the aircraft was sealed up and ready for takeoff. One by one, each of the turbofan jets started to come to life.

The ground crew and support vehicles quickly left the area.

Soon, a lone airman with two red-tipped flashlights was standing in front of the cockpit. He signaled to the crew to guide the C-17 out to the taxi area. Once the C-17 was in the correct position, he crossed the flashlights in front of his body to signal the aircraft to stop. The aircraft stopped. It was straining with the anticipation of a racehorse about to explode from the starting gate.

The airman turned off the beams and lowered the flashlights. He walked around to the side of the huge plane and gave a snappy salute to the cockpit crew, which was lit in a glow of soft amber light. The captain opened a small window and returned his salute.

An air force pickup truck appeared, picked up the airman, and left quickly. Within seconds, the tower had cleared the flight for takeoff, and the giant aircraft proceeded to the start of the runway, turned, and came to a stop. Each of the turbofans slowly started to increase its speed until they were all at the correct RPMs.

The captain released the brakes, and faster than one might imagine or expect for such a large aircraft, it was speeding down the runway. After it was airborne, there was a whir and clanking as the hydraulic system strained to raise the giant landing gear into their respective bays.

Dan listened to the hydraulic sounds as the huge flaps on each wing slowly returned to the fully up position.

The huge aircraft seemed to smile once it was no longer constrained to the ground; it was now in its own element.

With his seatbelt fastened, and the aircraft finally at a cruising altitude, Dan closed his eyes to gather his thoughts. It didn’t take long for him to start thinking about the events that had brought him to this particular crossroads. His thoughts went to the mission and the helicopters that helped his team reach the final coordinates without being detected. The MX-60X Black Hawks used new classified radar-evading stealth technology. Their shapes were unique and unknown to most, especially the general public. New space-age carbon fiber materials were used to create hard edges and angles to deflect radar. The technology was very similar to the F-17 fighter and the Northrop Grumman B-2 stealth bomber. Many of the components and designs came from highly classified technology contractors like Lockheed’s Skunk Works and other contractors that provided