A black-haired woman in shorts (young, good skin, nice legs, boobs a little too big) was sitting in one of Jake's chairs. A skinny kid in swim trunks and a T-shirt was in the other.
If these two didn't just get out of the sack, my name is Ethel Barrymore.
"Who the hell are you?" Miss Wood inquired.
The broad with the too-big boobs stood up.
"My name is Dawn Morris, Miss Wood," she said. "I'm a nurse."
"You're a what?"
"I'm taking care of Corporal Easterbrook, Miss Wood," Dawn said, indicating the Easterbunny.
"I'll bet you are," Miss Wood said. "Where's Jake Dillon?"
"He went into Los Angeles," the kid said. "Are you who I think you are?"
"That would depend, honey, wouldn't it, on who you think I am?" Veronica said, and immediately regretted it. He was just a kid.
But what the hell is going on here with Jake and a hooker and a kid?
"She said she was taking care of you," Veronica said. "You're sick?"
"I had a little malaria," the Easterbunny said.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Jake Dillon said from behind her, in the house.
She turned and looked at him.
"You could have called me, you sonofabitch!" Miss Wood said.
"Hi there, Veronica!" Jake Dillon said with a cheerful wave, then smiled and opened his arms.
"Oh, goddamn you, Jake!" Miss Wood said, rushing over to him and wrapping her arms around him. "You bastard! I was so worried about you!"
Over Veronica Wood's shoulder, Major Dillon winked at the Easterbunny.
I don't believe any of this, the Easterbunny thought. That's really Veronica Wood, the movie star, even if she does swear like a drill instructor. And I just talked to her. And now Major Dillon is hugging her and she's crying and he's patting her on the back.
And I'm not on the 'Canal anymore, and it doesn't even seem like there is a war, or there ever was a war.
And thirty minutes ago I did it again with Dawn, who is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, better looking even than Veronica Wood, now that I can see her in real life. And she liked it. She didn't push me away or anything, just asked if she was sure I could, that she didn't want me to exert myself too much, and get sick again.
Veronica Wood let go of Jake Dillon and turned to face Dawn Morris and the Easterbunny, but she kept her arm around his back.
"I was just introducing myself to your friends, Jake."
"That's Bobby Easterbrook, a Marine from Guadalcanal," Jake said. "He's been a little under the weather, and Dawn has been taking care of him."
"He's a Marine?" Veronica asked incredulously.
"He's a Marine," Jake said firmly. "You saw the Life cover of the Marine firing the Browning Automatic Rifle?"
"The one who was bleeding? What about it?"
"Easterbrook made that shot," Jake said. "He's a hell of a photographer."
"I'll be damned," Veronica said, and then, sweetly, asked, "would you two excuse Jake and me for a minute?"
"Certainly, Miss Wood," Dawn said.
"Actually, it'll probably take longer than a minute," Veronica Wood said. "So you two just go on with whatever you were doing before I showed up."
She took her arm from around Dillon's back, caught his hand, and led him into the master bedroom. A moment later, the door slid closed, immediately followed by the drapes.
"I didn't know they were such good friends," Dawn Morris said, as if to herself.
Major Dillon's going to bang Veronica Wood, just as sure as Christ made little apples, the Easterbunny thought. And she doesn't care if we know it or not. Jesus Christ!
Dawn Morris was standing next to him. He could see the smooth skin of her legs.
Jesus, I like the way her legs feel. I'd really like to just... why the hell not?
Dawn Morris leaned down and caught the Easterbunny's hand as it moved under her shorts.
"Behave," she said.
"Why don't we go take a nap ourselves?"
"We just did that."
"So we'll do it again."
Dawn smiled at him, but she thought: Goddamn you, you're as horny as a rabbit. Why don't you just leave me alone? Twice last night and twice this morning should be more than enough.
But on the other hand, it wasn't all that bad, nothing disgusting. You 're sort of sweet, and here I am, with Jake Dillon and Veronica Wood, which could be very, very useful in the future. And I could throw that out the window if I don't keep him happy.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine," the Easterbunny said. "What the hell, I'm a Marine."
[ONE]
Water Lily Cottage
Brisbane, Australia
0715 Hours 23 October 1942
Second Lieutenant John Marston Moore, USMCR, pulled on the emergency brake of the Studebaker President, opened the door, and then, very carefully, wincing with the pain, lifted up on his left leg and swung it out of the car.
"Sonofabitch!" he said softly. He turned on the seat, put the other leg out, reached over and grasped the handle of the briefcase that was handcuffed to his wrist, and then stood up. He glanced up at the porch and swore again. Brigadier General Fleming Pickering, wearing a pale-blue silk dressing robe, was standing there, drinking a cup of coffee, looking at him.
Moore smiled, then walked as briskly as he could to the house and up the wide steps to the porch.
"Good morning, General."
"When was the last time a doctor looked at your legs?" Pickering asked.
"I go in for a checkup regularly, Sir."
"That's not what I asked, Johnny."
"About a week ago, Sir. Maybe ten days."
"And what did he say?"
"That considering the nature of the wound, a certain amount of discomfort is to be expected."
"That didn't look like discomfort; that looked like pain."
"I'm all right, Sir."