Undying

I had been surreptitiously poking around the squadron's photo recon and intel sections trying to build a picture. They had a bunch of detailed pictures and even some hard intelligence. The last piece of the puzzle was the Resistance's tip about the chateau. It was useless information To the intel boys. But it was all I needed. I was finally ready to put my plan into action.

I had been grimly awaiting the new moon. That came on the night of December 22nd. It was nearly Christmas. But I wasn't feeling the holiday spirit. I'd asked the ground crew to put a couple of extra auxiliary tanks on the Beau. The Beaufighter was initially designed to haul torpedoes. So that wouldn't be a problem carrying excess fuel. I said I wanted more loiter time.

Night fighting is solitary. Hence, my Beau was the only aircraft sitting on the tarmac as the setting sun signaled the beginning of the long dark winter night. Ginger came ambling out with his parachute. He wouldn't be coming with me. I said, "You're not going old son. It's a top-secret mission and the CO wants me to fly it by myself." Ginger looked puzzled. I said convincingly, "You can check it with him in the morning if you want. But I'm ordering you to stand down tonight."

I called to one of the ground crew and said, "I'm ordering this man to stay home. You're a witness in case the Governor asks." The crewman gave me a, "Who cares?" look and said to Ginger, "More time in the pub mate." That settled it. I was alone as I took off into the night sky.

I hit the channel over Eastbourne, cruising to conserve fuel. The flight controllers kept asking me where I was going. I told them I was chasing a bogey. Now that I was out over the water, I turned off the radio and concentrated on my compass and dead reckoning. Fortunately, the Somme Estuary is easy to spot.

I dropped to 200 feet as I followed the river the ten miles to my target. I wanted the Krauts all sleeping peacefully, with nothing but sugar plums dancing in their head and I didn't want the German's primitive radar to warn them . The airfield at Abbeville was a little northeast of the city. As I turned for my final approach, I sensed that there was somebody sitting in the observer's seat.

I had actually expected her. I looked back. She gave me the same merry smile she had given me that first day in the Jenny. She said tenderly, "I had to be here. You know we always go into the next life together." The profound feeling of peace and contentment that washed over me was in stark contrast to the hell I was about to unleash on the Abbeville Boys.

*****

The guys in the photo recon Mosquito couldn't believe the devastation. Almost an entire Jagdgeschwader had been wiped out by a suicidal British pilot who dove a gasoline laden Beaufighter into their barracks in the middle of the night. Most of them were sleeping. They never had a chance. The resulting explosion and the cooking off of the 20-millimeter shells had destroyed the building and all of the surrounding support facilities. Now, although there were Messerschmitt's to fly, there was nobody to fly them.

The rogue pilot's commander had tried to explain that the man had been driven mad by the death of his wife. But in his heart, Squadron Leader Anderson knew that Pilot Officer Lambert had finally found the peace that he so desperately sought. And, as it had since the dawn of time; karma continued to move two eternally linked souls to their inevitable next encounter.

*****

FATE TAKES A BREATHER

We were the children of the baby boom. Our parents survived a depression, fought a world war and unleased a tsunami of kids that swamped the system. First, it hit the elementary schools and then the high schools. By the time college rolled around we were like a pack of starving hyenas .

It would be an understatement to say that the competition was ferocious. You sent out ten applications and got maybe one acceptance. You never even thought about applying to the prestigious places like Harvard, Berkeley, or Michigan. Only the best-of-the-best got into them. That's the reason why I was such a misfit when I showed up on the Ann Arbor campus.

I was a working-class kid recruited into the Big U on an athletic scholarship, not his genius IQ. In fact, the kids from my high school had a pool going about whether I'd flunk out by Thanksgiving. It didn't help when the fellow at freshman orientation told us to shake hands with the person on each side, because one of us wouldn't be around next semester. So, I felt neither entitled, nor even like I belonged.

They housed scholarship athletes in their own dorm. I could've gotten another swimmer, or a gymnast; somebody with a minor sport scholarship. But I got a football hero and he was a total pain in the ass. Chuck had no concept of personal space and his side of the suite was always a den. Even worse he was hornier than the fabled two dicked billy goat. So, he spent most of his time either pussy-hunting or drinking with his fellow Neanderthals. But Chuck could throw the ball seventy yards. So, the athletic department kept him eligible, and his future was always more NFL than MBA anyhow.

His legitimate prey were the girls who were trying to prove how wrong their mothers were. There were herds of them on 1960s campuses. And so, there were far too many nights when I'd come back from the library to find a tie on the door. Unlike Chuck, there was no pot of gold at the end of my college rainbow. Hence, I was getting an engineering degree. That wasn't an easy major, especially when you had three hours of practice five days a week. Every other minute I was in the library, or class. So, social life wasn't an option.

The campus is beautiful in the middle of October. There are a lot of mature trees and little sidewalks lined with old fashioned streetlights. There was the hint of burning leaves and I knew I was as prepped as I could be for tomorrow's 9AM exam. They'd kicked me out of the library when it closed, and I was enjoying a leisurly walk back in the soft fall evening. My mellow mood changed as I approached our room. There was the ubiquitous tie on the door and faint thumping and moaning noises were emanating from inside.

Most nights I was willing to give the inconsiderate piece of shit some space. But tomorrow's exam was going to make-or-break my grade point average. So, I was in no mood to suffer my horny friend. I banged loudly on the door. The moaning stopped. Chuck's pissed off voice said, "I'm in here!!" I said just as pissed off, "I've got an exam tomorrow. So, take your ass over to Sigma Chi or I'll get the RA!!" That was the nuclear option. He knew I meant business.

A couple of minutes passed, and Chuck appeared in the door, disheveled. I stepped back to let him go by. He gave me a surly look. I didn't care. He was a quarterback, perhaps six feet and two hundred pounds. I might be a fish. But I was big and blond, two inches taller and twenty pounds heavier.

Then Chuck's current object of lust emerged. She was small, perhaps five two. She was wearing the standard coed uniform, tight jeans and t-shirt. It showed off a superb body. But this wasn't one of Chuck's usual skanks. She was knockout gorgeous; super-thick chestnut hair parted in the middle and draped down her back in a long smooth curtain almost to her tiny waist. That was the Ali McGraw, Love Story, look. All the coeds wanted it. This girl had it nailed.

Her shining hair framed a flawlessly proportioned heart shaped face. She had high cheekbones, a beautiful, slightly snubbed nose, wide mouth with full, sexy lips and incredible blue eyes. She was trying to avoid my eyes, because she was doing the walk of shame. But she had to glance up as she moved past me. We both gasped. It felt like standing in a railroad tunnel watching a locomotive rushing at you. I instantly knew that I'd sacrifice anything to make this woman mine.

I just stood there gaping like an idiot. She was frozen in the doorway with one hand over her mouth and the other pressed against her big round tits. An uncomfortably long period passed. We both knew that something deeply special was happening. Chuck might be dim-witted. But he could sense that there was electricity between us. So, he grabbed my mystery woman by the arm and said roughly, "Come on Annie. We can finish what we started back at the Sig Chi house."

I was gazing longingly up the hall, as her perfect round ass swayed its way toward the elevator, when she turned and gave me a look that overflowed with confusion and yearning. I knew where Chuck was taking her and what they were about to do. The dazzling bolt of jealousy that hit me was astonishing. I wasn't simply bothered by the fact that Chuck was about to fuck her. It drove me wild to think that she'd ever been with another man. It was a terrifying feeling.

*****

I aced the final, even though I hadn't slept much. Chuck was gone all night. I got back from the exam about ten-thirty in the morning and he was zonked out. It must have been an all-night fuck-fest. The raging pang of jealousy nearly buckled my knees.

I had a meet that afternoon. So, I hit the rack myself. I woke up just in time to make it over for the pre-race stretching. Chuck was gone, probably for a second round of humping the other half of my soul. I took a couple of cleansing breaths, just to clear my mind.

The thing about swimming is that you sit around bored, waiting for one incredibly intense minute. The strain builds as your event gets closer. But this time, I wasn't agonizing about the race, as much as I was eating my heart out over Chuck's mystery girl. It was ridiculous to pine for somebody who you'd never even talked to. But I could sense the connection. She felt it too. I could see it in her eyes. The word "soulmate" is such bullshit term. It embarrasses me to use it. But there's no other way to describe what this woman meant to me.

Then they called my event. Competition focuses you, which was exactly what I needed. I had to stop my ridiculous mooning over a woman I didn't actually know. It was disturbing. She was probably fucking my worthless roommate, right that very second. But I couldn't imagine how I could live the rest of my life without her. To say the least, I was conflicted.

I was doing the 200 'fly, that day which was definitely not my best stroke. But the guy who normally did it had the flu. I was poised on the blocks, psyching myself to endure the usual two minutes of undistilled agony, while I looked up at the sparse crowd. It was a pre-race ritual, like an actor counting the house. Maybe twenty people were sitting up there.

Then I saw her!! It was the girl from last night!! We locked eyes. She waved. I false started. Actually, what I did was fall face first into the pool out of sheer shock. Then, after I dragged myself out of the water, I proceeded to set a personal, pool, conference and NCAA record for the event. I didn't need to guess what had motivated THAT.

When I came out of the dressing room, I found my mystery girl leaning against a wall. She was clearly waiting for me. She looked self-contained and heartbreakingly beautiful. She walked over, stood directly in front of me and eyed me somberly like I was some kind of zoo animal. Then she said simply, "We have to talk."

I said flustered, "How about Dominik's," which was a few blocks away. She just nodded and marched off. I hustled to catch up. But not before I noted the twitching of those incredible buns. I got us a pitcher of sangria and we sat out under the pergola in a beautiful October day. The campus surrounding us was buzzing with activity. The sky was cloudlessly blue, and the late afternoon sun was bright.

Up to that point we'd exchanged exactly seven words. But it felt like we'd been sitting across from each other for at least a hundred lifetimes. She was still looking at me puzzled, like I was a novel species of anthropoid.

She said with wonder in her voice, "I feel like we've known each other forever. But I don't know your name." I said trying to sound cool, "It's Lambert, Tommy Lambert." Then I went back to staring at her. She blushed and said, "I'm Annie Gregory." The wordless gazing continued.

All of us jocks take an eastern religion, blow-off class, to satisfy the liberal arts requirement. But I'd learned some things in it too. I said, trying to sound spontaneous, "The Hindus believe that the soul is immortal. That it progresses through an infinite number of lives. Maybe we knew each other in a prior life and are fated to be together here. Don't they call that kismet?"

I honestly thought that she'd laugh, since that sounded like something Pepe Le Pew would say. But instead, she seemed to melt right in front of me. Her huge blue eyes registered total astonishment. I could see that she believed it too. But she didn't want to say it. It was like I had read her mind.

She actually blushed. No coed does that. They're all too jaded. Particularly the beautiful ones. She said, "I don't understand this. But I feel exactly the same way. It is as if we've shared each other's intimate secrets?" She went back to looking at me, eyes shining.

This was getting too intense. I said, "Do you want some time to thing about this? We could get together tonight and talk it through." She looked relieved. Too much had happened too fast. We needed a bit of time apart to figure out where our heads were at.

She said, "Pick me up at my place at 6:00. We can grab a bite to eat and talk." I said questioningly, "Your place?" She said, "I have an off-campus apartment." She wrote down the address and said, "How about six o'clock?" Hmmm, so she had money.

I hustled back to the dorm to interrogate Chuck. There were too many missing pieces. High on the list of questions was how many times he's fucked her last night. Chuck was a study in death-warmed-over, sitting there in a ratty old glen-plaid bathrobe, hair still messed up from sleep, face pale and unshaven. I said, trying to sound sympathetic, "Rough night?" He said, "You have no idea. I've never been this hung over in my life." I said as nonchalantly as I could, "That was Annie Gregory you were with last night, right?" Chuck got a sour look and said, "That bitch is a freak!!"

My heart sank. Anybody my roommate thought was freaky would have to be a real slut. But I said, like I was mildly curious, "How so? Is she into kinky things?" Chuck grimaced and said, "I wish. She dated Rocky Ferraro for a while, and he said she was the hottest fuck on campus. I had her down to her panties when you barged in. But the minute we got to the lobby she blubbered something about how she "couldn't do this," and ran off leaving me holding my dick. So, I went over to Sig Chi and got wasted."

He added puzzled, "Man! It was frustrating!! She's the best looking bitch on campus. But I don't know what crazy monkeys are fucking in her head. Nobody passes up an opportunity to sample MY man-meat." My heart soared. He hadn't fucked her. The part about the love of my life being the hottest fuck on campus was a little disturbing. But this was the Age of Aquarius, the pill, and free love. I thought to myself, "We hadn't met yet."

*****

Annie's "apartment" was actually the first floor of one of those old turn-of-the-century houses just off the campus. There had always been a lot of money in the area. And the houses were big, bright and airy. I knocked on the intimidatingly big Victorian door, wondering what I'd gotten myself into.

Annie and I might have a connection. But I washed dishes in a fraternity house to make the pocket money I was going to use to buy her a burger; and she could obviously shell out for something like THIS? The woman who answered the door wasn't the same one I had been sitting across from a mere three hours earlier. This one was firing for effect.

Annie was wearing one of those baby doll dresses that the model Twiggy had made popular, with about four inches of gleaming thigh showing. She'd had on jeans before. So, I had no concept of how shapely and well-muscled her legs were. It was an erection causing sight. Her sheaf of thick chestnut hair was pulled back smooth into a long ponytail down her back and she was wearing makeup for the first time. Her superb eyes were only matched by her full succulent mouth.

She was amazing. I had an instant flash of insecurity. She was rich, beautiful and incredibly sexy. What was she doing with me? Then I looked into those huge intelligent eyes and saw nothing but love and devotion. She was so happy to see me that she was almost prancing with eagerness. She said brightly, "Where are we going?"

I didn't have a car. So, it had to be close. There was a nearby campus hangout that had cinnamon buns to die for and hand squeezed limeade to wash it down. More important, it had very private booths. I said, "I might be a starving student . But I can still afford a trip to Drakes." Annie just glowed with contentment as she grabbed my arm and said, "My favorite place!" I enjoyed the heft of her firm boob pressed against my arm.

The place was jammed as we settled into one of the big wooden booths. I was returning from the counter with two limeades and a big cinnamon bun to share, when Austin Cooper sauntered up. He was one of those hot-shit, preppy douchebags who infested the campus back in the day; slick and totally entitled by daddy's money. The rumor was he'd deflowered more virgins than the high priest of the Druids.

It was obvious that he and Annie had a history, likely in the biblical way. He said, ignoring me completely and talking directly to her, "Hey babe, haven't seen you in a while. We're partying tonight at the house and I know how you like to party. Come on up any time, and we can renew old acquaintances." I was thinking of kicking his ass on principle alone.

Annie looked at the piece-of-shit as if she was having a hard time remembering him. Then she said, like it was all coming back to her, "Oh yes, I remember you now. It's Austin isn't it?" That took fuck-face down a notch or two. She added dismissively, "I don't party with boys anymore. I prefer men. Meet my fiancé Tommy." Did she just say "fiancé??!! Okay -- I can go with that.

I stood and offered my hand. I was perhaps five inches taller and easily sixty pounds heavier. He took an instinctive step back, intimidated. I said meaningfully, "Hi, I'm Tom Lambert and I'm the only one Annie will be partying with from now on."

He looked me up and down and sneered, "All you're going to do is join a long line of guys who've fucked her." Then without shaking my hand he spun and walked away. He was pissed. How delightful. I sat back down and said mildly, "Nice fellow." Annie's face was bright red. She was obviously so angry that she was almost frothing at the mouth. She said, "I don't know what I was thinking. He's a total asshole. I swear that you can count on one hand the number of guys I've actually slept with. But the stories just keep coming."

She gently reached across the table and took my hand. She said, "I always knew you were out there. I just had to kiss a few frogs to find you." Then, she added sheepishly, "Your roommate was more like a horny toad. The instant I saw you I knew who you were. So, I just ran off. He was livid." Chuck had already made that clear.

My instincts told me that Annie was telling the truth. But it really didn't matter. I had been waiting for this woman my whole life. She said meekly, "Can we please go back to my place. I knew what she wanted, and that was going to present a problem."

Annie's place was neat and tastefully decorated. It reflected a sophisticated and thoughtful person. She was indeed the whole package; beautiful, intelligent and sensible. She was chattering away from the large kitchen where she was getting us both a glass of cabernet.

She said, "Both my parents are lawyers and we're rich." She added uncomfortably, "They kind-of spoil me." I said apprehensively, "My dad's a high school teacher and my mom took care of us. I hope it doesn't bother you that I'm poor."