Coming Home Pt 01 7

Hi all.

This has been a long time coming because my work and home life have been frantic. I started this story as a mental break from a much longer far darker tale. I was looking to work on something a little less 'heavy' and this was it. I might as well also admit that I write at the speed of snail.

I'm sure that the strict adherents to the LW genre' will tell me that it doesn't perfectly fit the category, but LW is where I started and probably where I will finish so, please indulge me.

This is not a BtB. Nor is it a RAAC. Mostly, it's about two people trying to navigate their past & present and find love and redemption. I'm trying to write stories that are as unique as I can make them, but that's not easy in a category where almost everything has been done before, so I won't apologize for trying. I will however, apologize in advance for mistakes you might find. I speak good English (as my primary work language) but missed all the early lessons in grammar etc. so I'm learning as I go along.

I don't moderate comments because if one allows them, then they will be, what they will be, but I think that the readership is intelligent enough to recognize genuine feedback from cheap putdowns.

This story is in two parts as I'm still writing the second part...

Thanks to Henry and Daniel for the mini critique.

Nick

** Coming Home **

** Part I **

By the time I managed to get to the Hyatt Ballroom, the celebration had reached fever pitch. Giant screens and the sophisticated sound system were carrying the news of the local election results. The crowd finally hushed as Daniel Banner, the latest and youngest State Congressman stood up to address them. He turned around and offered his hand to Mckenzie Cunningham, then led her to the podium to stand next to him.

He was tall and tanned with a great haircut, wearing dark blue suit trousers and white shirt without a tie or coat. His expensive but informal look reinforced his flaunting of the fuddy-duddy convention, he had successfully stood against and won.

She stood next to him in a gun-metal grey ball-gown. Its conservative cut did nothing to hide the fact that she had the best body there. And if that wasn't enough, God had unfairly given her a face that was perfect in its symmetry.

It was a face remembered all too well!

They raised their arms -- hands clasped tightly in salute. His face was bright with the barely contained excitement of a victor. She appeared to be glowing in the reflected glory but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

I looked at the gun. It wasn't anything remarkable. A S&W snub nosed thirty-eight special. A Saturday-Night Special as the Cops referred to them. I watched it come up pointing to the stage. Pointing at them!

* * *

I met MacKenzie at my army buddy's, actually my best buddy's, birthday on a party boat on Lake Springfield. Michael and his wife Hannah had hired it for the night and about forty of us were on board to celebrate. The crew were about to pull up the gangplank when she arrived, late and calling to wait up. Birthday boy Michael, shouted for the crew to hold on as she rushed across the short gangplank.

She was a vision and I stared, the beer in my hand all but forgotten. She was wearing skinny, torn jeans with canvas tennis shoes and a long sleeve off-the-shoulder gipsy blouse in teal which contrasted beautifully with her tan and long brown hair.

In no time the other single guys onboard were clustered around her like moths to a flame. I decided I didn't like the odds and left it alone. She laughed and flirted with all but didn't let any of them get too close. Once or twice, I caught her looking my way.

I had finished my first beer and was about to go get another when Hannah came up to me.

"Have you met my little cousin yet?" she arched an eyebrow and tilted her head in the direction of the queen bee.

"Naah, she looks like she has her hands full with admirers already." I declined.

Hannah punched me hard on the arm. "I wanted you two to meet."

Michael strolled over with a couple of fresh beers and handed one over before she could say more.

"Bad enough you beating on me Hannah." He gave her his abused spouse look, "but now you have to beat on poor Jack too." He shook his head sadly at what the world had come to.

"But I make it up to you don't I big guy?" She angled her face up and stood on tiptoes to get to his lips a foot above her. She wickedly ran her hands over his groin and cupped his balls using her body as a shield from prying eyes.

"I saw that!" I informed them. "Go find a quiet corner somewhere."

She grabbed my face and gave me a huge kiss on the lips laughing. Then looked at Michael with undisguised adoration. "I'll do you right here my darling," she declared brazenly giving his cock another rub right in front of me. "Jack, you go run interference while I make Mike's birthday glorious!"

"Ahh, Jeesh, I really don't need to be seeing this," I grumbled to both, while they snickered at my discomfort.

"You wait here," She demanded. "I'll make it up to you by bringing that little hussy over to meet you." She strode off but I decided I wasn't really interested in meeting Ms. popular so I started making long strides away myself but Michael grabbed me by the shoulder.

"Whoa there Jack! Hannah said to wait."

I tried to tell him I didn't need this and I wasn't ready, but the bastard was bigger and stronger than me and he'd been my superior for so long that I instinctively obeyed. "About face Grunt and get your game face on we're in the action zone now." As Hannah returned locked arm-in-arm with the vision I was about to learn was MacKenzie.

"Jack Brennan, meet my cousin MacKenzie Cunningham." She gave her a look that said to behave.

"Mac, meet my baby brother Jack."

"Hello Jack." Her voice was warm and pitched low like I needed to get closer to hear it all. "I thought I knew the whole clan" She laughed softly while I was still trying to get past saying hello.

"I adopted Jack after he pulled a wounded Mike out of a burning vehicle in Afghanistan and held of a squad of Taliban fighters for two hours single handed until help arrived." Said Hannah proudly, her eyes misting for a moment.

MacKenzie's, call me Mac, eyes were wide with interest and surprise. "I'd like to hear that story sometime," she said as I put out my hand to shake hers but she swept past it and came in to hug me. I hugged her back chastely.

"Nothing much to tell." I could feel my ears getting hot.

"Nonsense!" Michael thumped me on the back. "Jack's a hero with a medal to prove it!" That damned Bronze Star that I didn't want and that Michael wouldn't let me forget. "There's three at the party, who're alive thanks to him."

"Jack lost his family at a young age." Hannah Informed MacKenzie, giving her a stern look, "but he's my family now and I'll kick anyone's ass that messes with my little brother!"

"Come sweetheart." She pulled on Mike. "Let's go find a quiet spot," and I was left alone with Mac.

I steered the conversation into safer more mundane topics. It turned out that she was twenty-three and had completed her degree in communications the previous year. She was currently an intern in the Springfield Mayor's office and hoped this would springboard her to the Governor's office and eventually to her own PR firm focusing on political organizations and media liaison.

When it was my turn, I told her that after my four-year stint in the Army I joined a security consultancy firm called Executive Solutions and had also managed to finish my degree in International Relations. This was essential as many of our clients were multi-national corporations that operated across the globe.

She wanted to know if we were a body-guard service and I admitted that was something we offered but that primarily we consulted to develop systems, processes and procedures, and embed the correct personnel for everything from Cyber Security to Protection Services.

"Like the President's Secret Service?" She asked -- Not quite - but we shared some common elements and two of our senior staff members had started in that service.

I had monopolised her for some time when one of her previous admirer's came over with a glass of white wine for her and positioned himself to interpose between us. She accepted the proffered glass and he proceeded or continued to regale her with his football feats in college. I made a show of noticing my empty bottle and left looking for another.

I spent the next while talking to a couple of old squad mates, Tyrone and Jimmy. Tyrone had travelled down from Chicago to celebrate Michael's birthday. He sported a prosthetic from just below the left knee courtesy of the ambush that changed all our lives.

He showed me his dance moves and said it was as good as the real thing. Just then his wife appeared. She was statuesque, with a shaven head and small breasts with long legs and the smoothest and darkest skin I have ever seen. She was from the Cote 'd Ivoire and spoke with a pronounced French accent. I knew they had been married for a little over a year but looked and behaved like they were still on honeymoon.

She greeted me warmly. "So, this is Jack." She pronounced it 'Jacques' with a soft 'J' and silent 's'. Her eyes sparkled with emotion and she kissed me on both cheeks. Thank you for bringing Tyrone back alive.

Then Jimmy went and fucked up my whole evening. "I got an email from BA!" he informed me all excited. "She's back in a combat outpost with the K9 unit." He stopped when he saw my face. "Aaww I'm sorry Jack. I forgot."

I hadn't.

* * *

I begged BA to resign as soon as her four-year stint was over but she wouldn't. Said she couldn't leave Prince to another handler, so while Prince remained on active duty so did she. I told her she loved that dog more than she loved me. She said that I should get over myself and her love for me was that of a woman for her man. Also, I should be the last one to talk considering my actions on the battlefield.

She argued and explained over and over, that they had kept each other safe and understood each other, and she didn't want Prince maimed or killed by another handler that had less invested in him. As a combat soldier I should understand.

I did to a degree, but I couldn't wait to get out, because after the action that earned me that damn Bronze Star, I had lost something. My actions in combat thereafter had become those of someone looking to survive. I had become less interested in pursuing objectives and when I did, I was far more likely to over-react with violence.

I knew I was suffering from PTSD -- I'd seen enough of it, but that damned medal made me feel like I had to constantly live up to an exaggerated version of myself and I was turning into a caricature of what others thought I was.

I met Barbara Archer aka BA, shortly before my defining firefight. She was a K9 handler and had come from boot-camp with Prince who was a rookie himself but the two of them had quickly made a name for themselves as a tough can-do team even under fire. They were an Explosive Detection team that also doubled up as a Patrol Team when the need arose.

I clearly remember the first time I saw her. Civilians don't know where to look when faced with a soldier in full battlefield uniform but we military types do and I could see her tight little body under the fifty pounds of combat gear. She was just tall enough to pass the entry height. She had her dusty blonde hair cut as short as the boys and yet if anything it added to her attractiveness.

I got close to her for the first time after a difficult patrol. We were drinking beers at the British Mess with a mixture of Americans, Brits and a smattering of Ozzies. She clinked the top of my beer bottle hard with hers and it foamed over.

"So, why don't you tell me how you really feel about me!" she teased laughing as I sucked up the foam spilling from my lager.

"Kinda like that" I waved my foaming beer and smirked back at her.

"I can tell" she laughed at me with everyone else. "You just want to foam all over my tight little body don'tcha?"

I was blushing furiously while everyone else was laughing at my expense.

"Well best you don't try it." She fixed me with a hard stare. "Cause Prince will be eating your sausage for lunch." Prince, who'd been lying under the table lifted his head and whined softly at hearing his name.

Less than an hour later I had her fatigues around her ankles and was banging the living daylights out of her tight, hard little body from behind. She had almost no tits at all, but her perfect pink nipples proclaimed her a girl and her ass was a dream, strong muscular yet also round and luscious.

By the time I pulled out she was dripping cum as the condom had split.

"I'm gonna cut off your nuts and chop-off your cock and feed them to Prince if you've given me anything motherfucker!" She hissed at me. No worries about pregnancy though. Most female combatants were either on the long-acting contraceptive injection or Mirena, the long-term IUD.

Well, I hadn't given her 'anything' and a week later we were again fucking in the back of a parked APC -- that would be an armoured personnel carrier for those of you who aren't keeping up with military abbreviations, and soon after we were an item.

And now we weren't.

We had tried the long-distance relationship for over a year while she was deployed and I was Stateside but eventually it fizzled. It had been six months since we called it quits, and thanks to Jimmy I felt the wave of pain wash over me all over again, made worse because of the added fear of knowing what went on in a Forward Operating Base but being so far removed that I could do nothing about it...

Tyrone slapped the back of Jimmy's head. "Were you shot in the brain boy?" he growled.

* * *

"No! Stop!" That was McKenzie. I searched her out and there was her 'admirer' with one hand behind her head pulling her mouth to his and the other between her thighs rubbing her pussy from outside her jeans. She on the other hand was flailing uselessly at him. I reacted first and closed the distance grabbing his hair I pulled him off her.

He spun around facing me. He was at least fifty pounds heavier and a few inches taller. "Pulling hair?" he scoffed, lunging at me. "What are you, a girl?"

And this is why Aikido is such a wonderful martial art. None of this block and punch hard shit. I simply allowed his momentum to carry him to me and grabbing his wrist and shoulder I spun him to the floor. He hit hard but came up fast and this time tried to punch me but I moved forward and grabbing his arm early put him into a wrist lock and he went white with pain and down on his knees to alleviate the pressure. 'Snap the wrist to neutralise him', said the little voice in my head. 'Go on, break it', and I fought hard to override it and keep control.

"Apologise!" I snarled, still fighting to stop the red mist from seeping into my brain. He looked at me and knew he was screwed so he apologised through the anger and pain.

Turns out that Mr Barry, something-or-other was one of Michael's employees and things would not be going well for him after this. The crew pulled up to a nearby pier and dropped him off to find his own way home.

As he was leaving, I heard Michael say. "Be glad Jack was in a good mood Barry, or you wouldn't be going home at all."

Next thing a flushed looking McKenzie was all over me. It looked like violence had an energising effect on the girl. She clung to me for the rest of the trip leaning into me making sure her breasts rubbed my arm and managing to ensure she brushed her ass across my cock more than once. The girl was hot-to-trot as my grandpa used to say.

She kissed me goodnight. There was no tongue but her lips were warm and moist and they fit against mine perfectly. She saved her cell number on my phone. "Call me."

I didn't.

Hannah phoned me three days later. "Hey sweetie, you gonna call Mac or what?"

"I don't think so that girl looks to be on a fast track to the high life and it's not for me." There was a somewhat exasperated sigh on the other side. "And in any case, I'm not ready to date Sis." She loved it when I called her Sis.

"The girl's crazy about you Jack. She's here and you're here. Ask her out for a cuppa coffee."

I was stateside, BA was in a combat zone. We were effectively broken up, but McKenzie was young with almost no worldly experience. On the plus side, she was equal parts cheerleader, swimsuit model with a touch of girl next door. I held onto my phone for a long time looking at her contact. All I had to do is press call.

I pressed.

We arranged to meet on Wednesday lunchtime for a low-key coffee date at the Coffee Emporium on Wabash. It was one of those eclectic places, The walls were covered by fitted bookshelves filled with everything from unknown hardbacks and popular paperbacks to Calvin & Hobbs, Gary Larson and Peanuts anthologies. There were a few hundred National Geographic subscription mags from the seventies and eighties, some glorious coffee table books covering a huge array of subjects, and I even spotted some volumes, of the outdated 1974 Encyclopaedia Brittanica. The remaining space was taken up by framed and unframed paintings from local artists ranging from landscapes, portraits, abstracts and most everything else in-between. There were hessian bags of coffee beans with stamps from all over the world. It had a carefully cultivated old world charm that appealed across generations as reflected in the clientele present.

I had waited for a short while before she strode in, glanced around until she spotted me and with a smile walked over with a long smooth stride that turned every male head in the joint. She was wearing skinny faded jeans with natural leather Cuban heel ankle boots, a white brushed cotton, t-shirt and navy blazer. She wore a small silver crucifix on a double chain that hung between her breasts.

She could best be described as mind-blowingly hot and looked even better in daylight than she had on the night of Michael's birthday party. Her tanned skin had the blush of youth and I was prepared to bet a month's salary that she had been head cheerleader at high-school and college.

I stood up as she approached and surprisingly, she moved smoothly into my arms for a full body hug. We held it for a minute much to the consternation and dismay of the males within eyesight. We eventually disengaged and I gently helped her into her seat.

We ordered coffee and a slice of Lemon Méringue pie to share. She leaned across the table.

"So here we are." She smiled.

"Don't be so obvious." I spoke to her in a sotto voice. "we're being watched." I tapped her wrist "Act natural!"

Her eyes grew large flashing from side to side. "Don't look around." I pressed down on her arm. "And keep your voice down. They might have microphones all over."

She looked at me torn between her concern for my sanity and the possibility that this was a candid camera type moment... Or the crazy thought that this was somehow real.

"Why...? Why would they be listening to us?"

"Because of the bank heist we're planning!" I swivelled my eyes to the bank across the road. She followed my eyes, spotted it and started to smile but smothered it.

"Then, this will be the last time we are seen in public without disguises." She whispered back. "And from now on we only refer to each other by our code names." I nodded my understanding. "I'll be Ms. White!" She waited for me to acknowledge. "You'll be Mr Pink."

"Hmmm I thought I'd be Mr White or Mr black!"

"Are you worried about your tough guy reputation?" She arched an eyebrow.

"A little."

"Ok, but I can't be Ms. Pink." She leaned back with a small smile playing on her lips.

"Why not?" I was missing something.