Edge of Tomorrow (17 page)

“Well, that sounds suspicious, but coming
from where I’ve been, I can understand about keeping your mouth
shut,” laughed Syd. “Let’s switch subjects. Who is Hatch, really,
and how did you meet him?”

Sara looked at her watch and stood up.

“Let’s start back. I’ll talk on the way,
again leaving out some details,” said Sara.

They climbed into the golf cart and headed
back to the house.

“Van Lincoln is a very important man in this
country—in the world. I’m surprised you don’t know that,” said
Sara.

“Well, I’m not the type to read the Wall
Street Journal, and I’ve had a bit of tunnel vision the past few
years,” rebutted Syd.

“Have you ever heard of Lincoln Computers?”
Sara asked.

“Sure. I’ve got a Lincoln laptop. Don’t
tell me he’s
that
Lincoln?”

“Yes. And a lot more. In case you have been
wondering, Hatch will be forty nine next month. He’s one of the
richest men in the world. No one really knows his actual net worth,
but conservatively he is worth more than Bill Gates, Oprah, and
Martha Stewart combined.”

“A multi-billionaire?” gasped Syd.

“Yes. Now, for his life story, I’m going to
stick to what’s in Who’s Who.”

“He’s in Who’s Who?” interrupted Syd.

“Of course. Now, let’s see. When he got out
of college, he joined the Air Force and became a pilot. Public
records do not make it clear exactly what he did there, but he was
in over six years and reached the rank of major. They do say he
served in Air Force Intelligence. He got out of the Air Force at
the end of 1979 and immediately joined the CIA.”

“CIA? So he was a spy, too!” blurted Syd.

“That’s not clear in Who’s Who, or any other
public records. You know how tight-lipped the CIA is. It just says
he was an analyst for the CIA from January 1980 until August 1985.
Then he retired and started Triple Eye, which serves mostly the
intelligence community,” answered Sara.

“I can tell you know more than you’re saying,
but go on. Stick to the public record, if you must.”

“Triple Eye grew, he started Lincoln
Computers, Lincoln Research and Development, and a
Satellite/Communications company. This is all under the umbrella of
the holding company Lincoln Industries. They are all doing
fantastically well, and he is very wealthy—and powerful. For some
reason, he is a devout antiterrorist, hence his interest in helping
you. He really wants to get those guys out of circulation.”

“I appreciate his interest—and his help. So,
how did a lady Marine meet Mr. Powerful?” asked Syd.

“I met Hatch in September of 1995. I
was a major by then—Provost Marshall for a Marine base in Southern
California—and I was visiting Fort Bragg, North Carolina for a big
seminar on hostage rescue teams, SWAT, and so on. That’s the home
of the 82
^nd
and
101
^st
airborne units, and the
famed Delta Force. It’s kind of the core of elite Rapid Response
Units. A lot of police departments were there, the FBI Hostage
Rescue Team (HRT) people, all of the Military Services, including
the Navy SEALS. I was a speaker pushing the value of women on HRTs
and RRUs. I also gave a demo on hand-to-hand combat, proving women
can take care of themselves in a man’s world.”

They arrived at the house and Sara parked the
cart and hooked it up again. The two of them disembarked and went
upstairs to Syd’s suite. One of the beds had a note on it saying
that some new clothes were in the closet, and new underwear and
bathing suits were in the dresser.

“Mrs. C. did her job well, as usual,”
observed Sara. “Put on a bathing suit. There probably will be a
cover-up in the closet with your clothes. If not, there’s a
bathrobe in the bathroom closet. I’ll finish the story at the
pool.”

Syd opened the top drawer of the dresser and
found an assortment of bras and panties. Much more expensive brands
than she usually wore. Even a Wonder Bra! Was Mrs. C. sending her a
message? The next drawer had three bathing suits in it. There was a
red bikini, a sky blue one-piece cut high on the legs and low on
top, and a Navy blue two-piece cut a little fuller than the red
bikini. Decisions, decisions.

I wonder what Sara will wear. She will
probably let it all hang out from the way she talks. If you’ve got
it, flaunt it! But is that what I want to do? Show Hatch what I’ve
got? Or play it down? Or does it matter? After all, we just
met.

She got undressed and tried on the red
bikini. White skin showed on her breasts and hips.

This won’t do! Much skimpier than I’ve been
wearing. I’ll have to sun bathe in it in private to tan these white
areas. It does show most of what I’ve got! Scandalous!

She took it off and put on the blue one-piece
suit. It fit nicely, and didn’t show her tan line except between
her breasts at the plunging neckline. Demure, but sexy enough. She
kept it on and looked for a cover-up. She had a strange feeling
that her life was about to change drastically.

Klaus Haus, Florida

Wednesday, August 1, 2001

2:15 P.M.

When the two women arrived at the pool, Sara
put her canvas beach bag next to a lounge chair. It was one she had
bought at Disney World and had a picture of Mickey Mouse on it. She
went to a wooden cabinet hidden behind a large boulder and
retrieved four large, white towels. She handed two of them to
Syd.

“Take a lounge, Syd,” said Sara, pointing to
the one next to hers. There was a small, square, glass-topped table
between the two lounges with an ashtray on it. Syd looked in
amazement at the pool. It was more like a large mountain lake. It
had a black bottom, which gave the water a deep blue color. It was
free-form, with lots of rocks highlighting its perimeter. At the
far end, the boulders rose at least eight feet with water cascading
down over them, forming multiple water falls. Plush landscaping
finished the effect.

“Are you sure this is a pool? It looks more
like a mountain tarn,” said Syd, dropping her cover-up over the
back of her lounge. She spread one of her towels on the lounge and
eased herself down on it.

“Yes, it’s very nice—and restful. I like the
sound of the waterfalls,” Sara answered, shedding her black
cover-up and revealing her skimpy, black bikini. No tan lines
showed anywhere, leading Syd to believe she must use a tanning
salon—or sunbathed in the nude.

“Great suit, Sara, what there is of it,”
laughed Syd.

“It suits my personality. I’m making up for
my miserable teen years. I thought you would go with a bikini,
too.”

“Maybe next time,” she said as she
leaned back on her lounge. “Remember, I
am
a college professor! Or at least I was. I
don’t know what I am right now. I’m in limbo.”

“Is there some law against professors being
sexy?”

“I think so.”

“This isn’t the
Harvard
swimming pool. Lighten up!” laughed
Sara.

Sara searched through the canvas bag and came
up with a plastic bottle of sun screen, which she commenced to rub
on her long legs. When she finished her body, she tossed it to
Syd.

“Do my back and I’ll do yours,” Sara
said.

“While I’m doing that, continue with your
story about how a Marine Corps major met a billionaire at Fort
Bragg,” Syd answered, rubbing lotion on Sara’s back.

“Well, in 1995 he wasn’t as big as he
is now, but still big enough. He used his connections and got
invited to the seminar, taking it all in, including my
contributions. An Air Force general brought him over and introduced
him to me after my speech. He must have arranged that, because I
didn’t know the general. We chatted for a while. He asked very
detailed questions about my views on Hostage Rescue Teams. He said
he hoped he would see me at the cocktail party that evening. My
heart was doing back flips. That gorgeous, powerful man who could
manipulate generals said he would look for
me
!”

Syd sat back down on her lounge and rubbed
lotion on her legs. She could visualize how this story was going to
end, and she did not like it.

“It sounds more like the beginning of a love
story than a job interview,” Syd said.

“As it turned out, it was neither. I wore my
best, sexy cocktail dress instead of my dress uniform—which was
permitted—and he did search me out. We sat at a table for two,
talking, and getting very drunk. I made up my mind that I was going
to get laid that night! All of my inhibitions were gone. He didn’t
decline when I invited him to my room, which was in a hotel
off-base. He shed his coat and tie and we drank some more.”

Sara took the lotion and smeared some on
Syd’s back as she continued her story.

“I figured all I had to do was drop the top
of my dress and he would be all over me. I was sitting on the bed
showing a lot of thigh, and he was on the love seat. But he started
talking and got all teary-eyed. He was really drunk, and so was I.
I didn’t follow everything he was saying, but I finally figured out
that the tenth anniversary of the death of his first and only true
love had just come and gone. He kept saying, ‘Poor Kat! They killed
my dear Katerina,’ and things like that. After a while, it became
clear that his main attraction to me was that I was a larger
version of Kat. She was petite compared to me, but my face, hair,
eyes—they all reminded him of her, and he got all maudlin.”

Sara paused and looked at her nails for a
moment.

“I really shouldn’t be telling this story. It
is embarrassing—to both of us, actually, but mostly to me,” she
finally continued.

“You can’t stop now! Did you get him to bed,
or not?” asked Syd, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

“I went and sat next to him on the love seat
and put my arm around him, trying to console him. I was really
prepared to take advantage of his very vulnerable state of mind. I
led him to the bed and he lay down. I took off my cocktail dress
and lay down next to him, completely bare-chested. He was already
asleep, or passed out. Seconds later I was, too. The next thing I
knew, I woke up and he was gone. I told you this was embarrassing.
I think I need a drink!”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a
Blue Phone like Hatch carried and started dialing. Syd felt a wave
of relief surge through her body—she wasn’t quite sure why. How
could she be jealous of people she had just met?

A young man that Sara called Eddie, and who
was dressed in a white linen jacket, appeared from somewhere and
asked what he could do for them. Sara ordered a tall gin and tonic
with a twist and Syd followed suit. Out of the corner of her eye,
Syd noticed that Eddie was ogling their glistening bodies. It made
her feel good that a young guy liked looking at her over-thirty
body.

“So, that was it?” asked Syd when Eddie was
gone.

“No. I had obviously wasted my blatant
hussy come-on, but later that day I received two dozen long-stemmed
roses from him. Then he called and apologized all over the place
for getting so drunk and talking my ear off. I guess he had passed
out before my striptease, so I didn’t mention
my
behavior. He must have seen me half naked on
the bed when he left, but he didn’t mention it. I didn’t hear from
him again until July of 1996, when he called me in California,
where I was stationed, and asked me out for dinner.”

Eddie returned with their drinks and put them
on the table between them, getting another eyeful.

“And? Did you …?” urged Syd,
apprehensively.

“No, we were on our best behavior. We were
both a little nervous and embarrassed, but Hatch put me at ease,
and the rest—as they say—is history. I accepted his offer and here
I am five years later. The hardest part was knowing I wouldn’t be
able to pursue him anymore,” said Sara with a mock groan.

Syd smiled inwardly and sighed.

I don’t
have
that problem! I don’t work for him, so I declare him fair
game!

“Something occurs to me, Sara. Weren’t you
worried that he wanted you around only because you reminded him of
his long, lost love?”

“That occurred to me at the time, but the job
was real—something I really wanted to do. And he came right out and
told me that intra-company relationships—particularly sexual
ones—were prohibited by his company rules. Insiders refer to it
jokingly as the ‘No-fuck Rule.’”

“Well, the job really must be something
great for you to give up what you had,
and
no chance of bedding the boss! Maybe someday
you can tell me what your job really is,” ribbed Syd with a
smile.

Syd took a pull on the straw in her gin and
tonic.

Curiouser and
curiouser
, thought Syd.
What
job would cause her to quit before her twenty years were up? Money,
certainly. Hatch could definitely offer her any amount she wanted,
and more. But she doesn’t seem the type to sell out for just money.
The Corps was her life. Something else is going on around here! I
wonder if I’ll ever know what it is.

Syd was jolted from her thoughts when Sara
said, “Here comes Hatch. Maybe we’ll find out about your sister
now.”

Syd looked up and saw Hatch coming from the
house. He had on brown swimming trunks, a tan tee shirt, and
flip-flops on his feet. His arms and legs were as well-tanned as
Sara’s body. He carried a clipboard with some papers attached to
it; he also had his Blue Phone. Eddie followed along behind him.
Syd marveled at Hatch’s firm, muscular body, and a thrill ran up
her spine. He turned left before he reached them, and headed for a
large, white, colonial-style gazebo which was about ten yards from
the pool. Sara gathered her cover-up, towels, canvas bag, and drink
and headed after him. Syd followed Sara. The three of them sat down
at the round table in the gazebo.