MARINE
BOOK ONE: Agent of Time Series.
By Tanya Allan
Copyright 2012 Tanya J. Allan
All rights reserved.
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – for example, electronic, photocopy, data recording, etc… – without the prior written permission of the author or unless paid for through sales channels authorised and approved by the author. The only exception is brief quotation in printed reviews.
Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited.
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to offend anyone deliberately.
Also by Tanya Allan on Amazon Kindle:
http://www.amazon.com/-e/B004VTB5OQ
A FAIRY’S TALE
AMBER ALERT
BEHIND THE ENEMY
EMMA
EVERY LITTLE GIRL’S DREAM
FLIGHT OR FIGHT
FORTUNE’S SOLDIER
GRUESOME TUESDAY
IN PLAIN SIGHT
MARINE 1
MODERN MASQUERADE
MONIQUE
QUEEN OF HEARTS
RING THE CHANGE
SHIT HAPPENS, SO DO MIRACLES
TANGO GOLF: COP WITH A DIFFERENCE
THE CANDY CANE CLUB
THE HARD WAY
THE OTHER SIDE OF DREAMS
THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS A SUPER HERO
THE SUMMER JOB & OTHER STORIES
TO FIGHT FOR A DREAM
TWISTED DREAMS
WEIRD WEDNESDAY
WHEN FORTUNE SMILES
WHISPERS IN THE MIND
The Author
With enormous experience of life, the author brings to life some of the nastier sides of the human condition, with many of the better attributes. Having started writing as a teenager, but never publishing anything until the half century loomed, Tanya successfully brought together elements of the real world, her dreams, fantasies and failed aspirations to breathe life into three-dimensional characters and situations that warrant further attention. Known for producing happy endings (for the most part), but also keen to see true justice is seen to be done, which unfortunately doesn’t happen as often as it should in real life.
Now concentrating on writing, the author enjoys foreign travel, family, faith and furry friends.
CHAPTER ONE
The Marine - 1990
“Alright, Sergeant, you may get dressed again, now,” the M.O. said to me.
Standing, I started to put my uniform back on, lacing up my boots while he finished writing on the file. This simple act caused my right knee some pain. I certainly found it took longer to do so many simple things, these days.
“Well, Doc, what’s the verdict?” I asked, as I finished tying my bootlaces.
“I am afraid, First Sergeant, that your days of active service may well be over. Your knee injury is such that it will never be able to take the kind of stresses that you men insist on applying. No, I’m afraid it looks like a desk job for you. So, no more flinging yourself out of perfectly serviceable aircraft,” he said, with an ironic smile.
“Shit! Are you sure, Doc?” I asked.
“Son, I’ve been a US Navy Medical officer for nearly thirty years, I’m aware that you have almost as long in the service as I, so you know that if I tell you your active days are over, believe me, they are over. Neither of us is getting any younger, and we both know that this is a young man’s game.
“You’re one of the fittest men of thirty-eight I have ever examined, but that doesn’t alter the fact that your right knee is very weak, you’ve been wounded and injured once too often,” he said, not unkindly. “Hell, Ed, we both go way back together, but I’ve operated on that knee for the last time. You’ve more steel and poly-carbon in there than bone.”
I knew in my heart that what he said was true, but that didn’t mean I had to like the fact that my life, as I saw it, was as good as over.
The Doc was a Surgeon Commander in the US Navy, and, of all the officers I knew, he was the one I trusted the most. He had put me back together on no less than four occasions.
“I’m sorry Ed, I know how much this means to you,” he said.
I nodded. “The Corps is my life, Doc, you know that. I’m not cut out for a desk.”
“A lot of men have been here before you, said the same thing, and yet most have found their niche,” he said, trying to reassure me.
I stared out of the window, watching a squad of recruits run past with their drill sergeant bellowing at them. I knew that I could never take an office job.
I was a First Sergeant with twenty-one years in the corps. I had more stripes on my sleeves and more medals on my chest than most of the recruits had hair on their heads. I had seen active duty in seven areas of conflict and I’d been wounded six times.
I came to attention, holding my cap.
“Sir, thank you, sir,” I said, about turned and marched out of his office. I marched down the corridor and through the front door into the sunshine. I stopped at the top of the steps, wondering what silly bastard ever designed the medical facility with twelve steps at the front door. I’d bet my pension it was a fucking civilian or an officer.
I surveyed the scene. Although not currently stationed here, this, and places like it, have been my home off and on for many years. I have been all over the world, so I could safely say that the Corps was my only real home. I had married once, a long time ago. It had lasted six years, ending when she had left me for someone else. She had told me that she loved me, but hated the Corps. I loved her, I guess, but I was prepared to see her go, as I said, the Corps was my life, while she was just my wife.
My two kids learned to call another man ‘Dad’, yet still I stayed in the Corps. I went to the Far East, the Middle East, the Balkans, Africa, South America, The Caribbean, Europe and small places that no one ever heard of. I wouldn’t know what to do with a house and garden.
I was seriously worried for the second time in my life.
The first had been a long time ago, when I had just started at High School, in Columbus, Ohio.
I was a gangly kid, all arms and legs. My old man left my mom when I was eight, so she lived above the diner where she worked to keep the three of us kids. I was the eldest. I had a younger brother and sister. Never a great academic, and too uncoordinated for many ball games, I had few friends. When I was around twelve or thirteen, I realised that I was not the same as other kids.
I got beat up once too often and went berserk. I was waiting in line at the water fountain, when three guys from the year above pushed me and teased me for some reason that I’ve long since forgotten. Whatever they said pushed me over the edge, so the red curtain came down. When the mist cleared, one kid was unconscious and the other two suffered with bleeding noses and a few broken bones.