But his father’s offer of such adventure had come at the same time as his offer to join UNESCO and build, as it had been termed to him, ‘a reputable, respected reputation, deserving of such a brilliant mind which unfortunately has been led astray.’ Roughly translated, it was orthodox science’s final chance to join its ranks, to abandon his father’s unconventional beliefs and build a name for himself. As with any young man, the dreams of greatness, of acceptance within such an establishment of great minds, had been too great.
When his father had told him that an old shaman in Mali had given him clues to the whereabouts of the Progenitors, it had been the final straw. “We’re scientists, not mystics!” he had shot back in the middle of the argument. His father had been devastated that he would not accompany him on what would prove to be the greatest adventure of their lives. Both distraught, they had parted company. Six months later, the official verdict into the disappearance of his father’s expedition had been made. Lost, presumed dead.
“Hey,” Sid’s calming voice cut through the turmoil of his thoughts, bringing him back into the present. She came into the bedroom from the bathroom with nothing but a white towel covering her body. She was drying her black hair with another towel while peering at him with a touch of concern in her eyes. “I thought you were going to get some sleep.”
He took a deep breath and tried to make himself relax. His head sank into the pillows — surprisingly soft and comfortable considering they were on a military base. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Sid padded barefooted over to the side of the bed and dropped her hair towel to the floor. She ran one smooth hand across his bare chest and stomach. Despite being an academic, there was nothing saggy or baggy about her husband-to-be. His stomach was firm and solid, his chest well-formed and his arms were heavy with muscle. She longed to have them wrap around her, to feel the intimacy they had been denied since this crazy adventure had begun.
“I’m sorry about how I reacted earlier,” she said.
King met her eyes and forced a smile. “It’s okay.”
“I just… I just don’t want to lose you Ben.” Her index finger ran up the centre of his chest, his neck and chin and then stroked his cheek. She leaned closer to him. “I just want this all to be over. I wish the Moon Mask had never been found.”
King wished he could have said the same to her but despite what he had said to her after Gibbs’ team had picked them up from Patagonia, he knew that this was one Pandora’s Box which he needed to open. His father had died, disgraced in the eyes of his peers and, worse, he believed, disgraced in the eyes of his son, the only survivor of his family. For his sake, for all their sakes, he had to see this through to the end!
Yet, the turmoil he felt that raged inside of him was unrelenting. His need to honour his family’s memory conflicted with his desire to whisk the woman he loved off to some secluded island somewhere where they could spend their days far away from the horrors of the world.
Surprising even himself, the usually mild mannered man grasped Sid’s head and pulled her down into a passionate kiss. At first taken by surprise, she started to pull away but, feeling his hunger echoed inside of her, she quickly gave in. Their lips locked, their tongues played and coiled around one another. He ripped her towel from off of her body; she tore his from his groin and then clambered astride him. Both ready for one another, they slid together perfectly, the sudden intimacy erupting. He drove into her, deep, holding her tightly. His eyes wandered down her body, the gentle yet definite contours of her neck and shoulders, her rounded breasts which he couldn’t resist lapping at with his tongue. His strong hands slid down her waist, over her hips, his thumbs rubbing her inner thigh before moving closer to her lustrous core, playing with her. The minutes of passion rolled on, time, that enemy which every man and woman tried to conquer, seemed to slow, and then stood still, as they moved together, their bodies rocking in hypnotic rhythm, their lips tasting one another, the intensity flaring, erupting up through their bodies in an explosive crescendo.
Sid cried out in intense pleasure as he felt the fire explode from within him, their bodies tangled together, one and the same. Then, fulfilled for the moment, she crashed down on top of him, pressing her body against his, kissing his neck. He ran his hands up and down her bare back, circled her firm buttocks then began the return journey. Soothing, relaxing, and before either of them knew it, their sudden brief burst of activity drained the final reserves that they had been running on for days. Tangled bodily with the woman he loved, sleep finally began to claim Benjamin King’s troubled mind.
“I never want to lose you, Benjamin King,” his fiancée whispered.
He smiled. “You never will… Alysya King.”
She returned the smile. Warm and loving. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid with the Moon Mask,” she demanded wearily. But, as sleep finally claimed her, she did not hear the hesitation in his voice.
“I promise,” he lied.
“About two weeks ago, two men in black suits came to my door,” Mrs Braun explained. She and Alex Langley were once again in her living room only this time their postures were much more business-like. Langley had to keep reminding himself that the woman before him was nearly ninety because her energy and focus was that of a much younger woman.
“They said they needed to speak to Emmett immediately,” she continued as she powered up her dead husband’s computer. It was state-of-the-art and the fast processor brought life to the machine quickly. “I told them he wasn’t around, he was out fishing.” Langley remembered seeing the blue and white fishing boat moored to the house’s private jetty. “But they insisted. Said it was a matter of ‘national security’ and all that crap that men just like them have told me over the years. But you’re different though,” she added, eyeing him, still with suspicion, but now with a twinkle of hope. Hope that this was the man who could bring about justice for her husband.
“Anyway, what could I do? They were talking about it being a federal crime to impede their investigation, so I showed them to the transmitter over there,” she nodded to the radio Langley had spotted earlier. “What they didn’t realise was that I was listening in on an identical radio in the kitchen.”
Langley laughed. “Mrs Braun, I should arrest you for making that confession.”
“Just you try it,” she replied. Langley could feel a bond growing between them as he watched her navigate clumsily through her husband’s computer system. “Well,” she defended her actions anyway, “I was fed up with the government just whisking him away. He was an old man, not in any shape for all this excitement and drama anymore. Anyway, they told him all the usual stuff, ‘national security, we need your help, lives on the line’ that sort of thing. But Emmett said no. He said he’d finally retired and that they’d have to find someone else.”