****
My truck doesn’t start when I turn the key. Hopping out of the tattered cab, I pop the hood and mess around with the spark plugs I know are on their last leg. Sure enough, a little twisting and the truck rumbles to life. It will be a fun weekend project—something to keep my hands and mind busy. The mundane. Something I’ve only had in insignificant doses over the last decade.
There’s no need for GPS or navigation in Bronze Bay. There’s the water side and inland. Now that we’re here, we’ve taken up a huge chunk of the water side, securing government water for our boats and our diving. The beaches are fenced off on either side of our compound. I’m driving inland now, toward May Airport. There’s tall grass growing on the sides of the roads and the houses are few and far between. I turn down an unpaved road that’s half seashells and half dusty rock pieces. The only indication this is where I need to be is the large rectangular sign proclaiming this as May Airport. The font is square and large in a bright shade of red. It reminds me of something you’d see in an antique shop.
The landing strip comes into view as does a cluster of airplane hangars, one larger than the others. I pull into a spot that looks as if other vehicles have parked before and hop out into a cloud of salty dust. I traded my uniform for my standard black tee and jeans before I left work. Not that it makes me any less conspicuous. The word outsider might as well be tattooed on my forehead. The residents know I’m not the standard fare newcomer. I’m an intruder.
A loud engine roars from somewhere in the general vicinity breaking up the silence.
“Can I help you?” A man calls over the noise.
I turn toward the voice and see an older man wearing a bright Hawaiian shirt. I put up one hand in a wave. “Hi sir, I was hoping to speak to the owner,” I say, approaching slowly.
The man perches both hands on her hips. “Depends on which one you’re looking for and why, but I suppose I fit that description,” he says, grinning while extending his hand in my direction. I don’t miss the way his eyes scan my body from my head to my toe. “What can I help you with? We don’t get visitors very often.”
What he means is he doesn’t get visitors like me. Shaking his hand, I ask if there’s somewhere we can talk with a little less noise. He tells me it’s an airport and I should expect some degree of noise at all times. I laugh, grin widely, and pretend not to be annoyed. It probably doesn’t work well. I’ve been told my smile resembles The Joker, Heath Ledger style.
“Let’s head to the office,” Mr. May inclines his head to the large hangar beside him. I follow warily, taking note of everything around me. Running an airport has to be tiresome, but I imagine the only people using it are the extremely wealthy or the hobbyists. The light metal exterior of the hangar belies the contents. After I walk through the door I’m met with air conditioning. That’s the first surprise. The second is that it’s actually really nice inside. There’s an office to the right and a spiral staircase to the left of the office. A door straight in the back ostensibly leads to the portion of the hangar where actual aircrafts are stored. “Right through here, Mr.,” May pauses, waiting for me to offer my name.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Tyler. Tyler Holiday. It’s nice to meet you,” I say, walking into the office. May leaves the door open and walks to the other side of the room where a small mini fridge buzzes in the corner.
“Can I offer you something to drink, Tyler Holiday?” I don’t want anything, but rejecting hospitality is bad form.
“Sure. Please,” I say, nodding to the bottle of iced tea in his left hand. A can ofBud Lightis in his right. After he hands me the tea, he cracks the beer and downs half. “I’m here on behalf of The Bronze Bay Naval Compound,” I edge.
He nods. “Of course you are, son.” He lowers his chin while staring at me. “The question is what are you doing at my airport?”
He knows. He must have anticipated something like this. “We were hoping to inquire about the procurement of your fine facilities,” I say, setting the bottle down on a table next to me. I don’t take my eyes off his face, eager to glean any tells he may give. Nothing. “We are prepared to pay you handsomely.”
May laughs loudly, bringing one hand to his chest, covering a smudge of grease marring his tropical ensemble. “I thought you might say something like that. You know this land has been in my family for generations, right? I’m sure you’ve done your research so that means you’re plumb crazy.” He’s still shaking his head, disbelief washing every feature. I stay silent, as I know he’s not finished. “Rent. I figured you’d come here and want to rent some time or perhaps even a hangar to store a plane or two. Never, in my wildest dreams, did I think you’d come here asking to purchase my crown jewel.”
I told Leif. I knew this would be the outcome. My goal now is to figure out how to sway his mind. “I can assure you, if you sell May Airport to our command, the memory will live on. We won’t change the name,” I say, grasping at straws.
“Sell the airport?” A woman screeches from behind us.
Turning quickly, I see the person from which the squeal came from. “Caroline, honey. It’s fine. I’ve got this under control. Mr. Holiday, may I introduce you to my daughter. She’s half owner of the business and property you’re wishing to purchase.” His laughter trips his words and I’m left feeling like I’m lacking armor and weapons while lying in wait for a killing blow.
“Did I hear you right?” Caroline says, leaning against the doorway, one tan leg propped on the other like a flamingo. Her shorts are short and her dirty t-shirt is knotted, exposing a sliver of sun kissed stomach. Several strands of golden blonde hair that escaped her pony tail fall into her face. “My airport? First you take over my favorite beach. The very one where I took my first steps and block it off to the public, but now you wantmyairport? I don’t think so. Take your beast body and your handsome offer and leave. There’s not a fiery chance in hell you’ll get your mitts on my family’s airport.” Her face is red, and she’s leaning forward now, like a lion about to pounce on prey.
I hold my hands out in front of me. May laughs, and a vision of a torture device pops into my mind. I hear him drain the rest of his beer. “Sure you didn’t mean handsome body and beast offer? Cause that would make a lot more sense. No need for the hostile measures. I came here in peace,” I reply, using a calming voice.
“Peace?” Caroline nearly yells, stepping toward me, one finger extended. “You represent everything except peace. You’re not even allowed to say that word. Who are you exactly? One of those SEALs?”
There’s no need to lie. “Yes. I’m one of those SEALs. You know, the men that protect your freedom, your nation, the ones that keep the peace,” I say, emphasizing the last word. “We’re here to better protect America, Caroline.” At the mention of her name, she calms, swallowing hard. “I came here to merely ask about negotiations. We need facilities such as yours to train. Skydiving and what not. Skills that help us do our job. That means peace foryou.”
She backs down immediately and her eyes change. For the first time, she looks at me instead of what I represent and she’s affected. Her huge, crystal blue eyes land on mine. Yes. Familiar territory. I flash her a small grin, teasing my bottom lip with my top teeth—a small gesture the average person wouldn’t pick up on, but something someone attracted to me will zone in on quickly. “Negotiations. Fine,” she says. Taking a huge, visible breath, she walks into the office and leans against the wall to the right.
Caroline blows a strand of hair off her face. Recognition dawns. “You work at the diner,” I say, narrowing my eyes.
“Mrs. May owns the diner and Caroline helps out. This is her primary focus though. She’s building a right fine apartment upstairs. I’m retiring!” May exclaims, rummaging the fridge for another beer. This town is smaller than I ever imagined. Everything and every person is interconnected in some form. Lesson learned.
Caroline rolls her eyes in her father’s direction. “I’m taking it over willingly. It’s my dream,” she says quietly, like her dream should be silenced. “I’m the main pilot these days. Daddy, I mean, Mr. May is a master engineer and mechanic. Between the two of us we can fix anything.” May takes this as his cue to exit the office.
“It’s a fine dream,” I reply, standing straighter. “Perhaps I can help make it happen quicker?” Leif can suck my cock. I know what I’m capable of getting from these people. I also know how I’m going to get it.
Her arms folded across her chest she widens her eyes. “I’m waiting,” she exclaims.
“I’m prepared to rent the entire airport for one day, every week. This is what we’ll pay you annually,” I say, grabbing a pen from the small desk, I scribble a number on the sheet Leif gave me with their information. The math was done in my head and double checked in mere seconds. It’s one of my gifts. Keeping the paper in my hands, I show her the number, holding it a foot from her face. “Deal.” I say, instead of asking.
