Chapter 13

He can't protect me now…

The Houston Herald was bustling with activity. Rebecca was hammering on her computer, completing a follow-up story to her interview with Don. A young man rode up to the building on his bike and hustled inside. "Rebecca Hunter?" he asked the receptionist. She pointed to a corner desk where Rebecca was proofing her story. The young man dropped an envelope on her desk and said, "Ms. Hunter?" She nodded. "Special delivery for you."

Rebecca picked up the envelope. It had no markings. "Who is it from?"

"I don't know. I'm just the delivery boy."

"Who gave it to you to deliver?"

"I work for a service, lady. I'm just told where to go, not where it came from."

She reached for her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. Will this help?"

"Sure, but I still don't know where it came from."

She stuffed the bill back into her purse. "Then get the hell out of here," she muttered.

"Hey, it's not my fault that there's no return address on the envelope."

She rolled her eyes and pulled a five-dollar bill out of her purse. "Happy?"

"It'll do," he threw back and jogged out of the building.

She held the cursor over the send button and debated if she should open the envelope first. Her curiosity got the best of her. She ripped it open and found sealed military orders inside. She realized this was a gift… Someone had slipped her the original orders for Major Donald West. He was to be sent to the edge of the solar system to man a weather station for God knew how long. This would put her story on the front page. She had no idea what the repercussions would be, but she assumed that this was sent to her by one of Don's supporters. She called her editor with the news and reworked her story to include the errant orders. She clicked the send button and turned off her computer. She had a major to find…

Don phoned his parents, but wasn't able to reach them. They had left the day before to return to their home in New York. His father had mentioned something about stopping in Washington to call in a favor that was owed him long ago. Don needed to see a friendly face and headed for Tom's office. Classes had ended for the day and he found Tom grading papers at his desk. "Hey, how about some dinner?" he asked.

Tom looked up. Just the person he wanted to see. "Officer's club?" he asked.

Don shrugged. What he really wanted to do was escape his unofficial security detail and head out of town so he could breathe. He grabbed a slip of paper and wrote, "Flyboy?" Tom knew what he was thinking.

"I'm going to be a few more minutes. Why don't you go ahead and I'll join you. I have to toss these into my car."

"All right. I'll wait for you at the bar. Don't be long or I'll come looking for you and your car."

Tom nodded. "Ten minutes… max…"

Don left. Anyone who was listening would never have known that they had just made plans to escape Don's tail. He headed over to the officer's club and had a quick drink. He made a show of leaving for the men's room, but slipped out the side door instead. Tom was waiting for him in his usual parking spot, the car warmed and ready to go. Don hopped in and sank down into the seat. They grinned at each other and Tom drove off the base. They were free…

As Rebecca approached the guardhouse, she wondered if her mother's admittance card would still be her ticket onto the premises. She didn't even get a chance to take the card out of her purse. "Sorry, Ms. Hunter," the guard stated. "We were given strict orders to keep you off the base."

Rebecca was still arguing with the guard when she noticed a car coasting by without its lights. She recognized Tom and kept the guard occupied long enough for Tom to escape. Then she gave the guard a dirty look and backed away. After doing a sharp U-turn, she followed Tom's car to a small bar on the outskirts of town.

As Tom pulled up to the non-descript bar, he said, "I know it looks like a dive, but the food is really pretty good."

As they walked to the door Don said, "Hey, I'm just glad we're off the base. I was going stir-crazy. I wish we could have gone to The Flyboy, though."

"Too easy to find you. They'll be looking all over your usual haunts, Don."

"By the way, is Aggie still bartending?"

"No. She, uh, she died a few months ago… Breast cancer…"

Don stopped in his tracks. "Damn… I'm sorry to hear that… She was the one who convinced me not to give up on Judy."

They grabbed a table and ordered a couple of beers. "You know, major, you didn't sound too concerned about Judy in that interview."

Don leaned back in his chair. He was tired of being reprimanded… first his sister, then Colonel Walters and General Bowers. Joan had left him a message on his voicemail, as had the professor's father. He didn't have the courage to call either of them back. He was surprised that his mother hadn't called, but he supposed his father had informed her of their plan as they traveled back to New York, so, maybe, she was giving him the benefit of the doubt.

He wanted to tell Tom what was going on, but General Bowers had convinced him that the specifics of their plan were on a 'need to know basis' and Tom didn't need to know why he was flirting with Rebecca Hunter… at least not at that moment.

"Look, Tom…" He was saved from saying anything else by none other than Ms. Hunter herself.

"May I join you gentlemen?" she asked. Rebecca was breathtaking, as usual. Tom found himself staring at her amber colored eyes while Don stood and pulled a chair over to the table for her.

"How the hell did you find us, Rebecca?" Don asked.

"I'm a reporter… remember?" she teased.

"If she found us, you can be sure security isn't far behind," Tom commented.

"I don't think so. It was sheer luck that I ran into you. I was trying to get on the base when you left. I recognized you when you drove off. The guard didn't even look at your car."

"I was crouched down in my seat, how could you see me?" Don asked.

"It wasn't you I saw," she replied. "I knew Lieutenant Colonel Bryce drove a Civic, and I got a glimpse of his blond hair."

Tom's eyes lit up. She had noticed him.

Don sat back and watched their interaction. There was some potential there. He knew Tom was smitten with Rebecca, but Rebecca hadn't returned his attention. Her eyes were still totally on him.

"I received a special delivery today that was supposed to have gone to you, Don," she stated.

Don looked around to be sure there wasn't anyone within earshot. "Let me guess," he said, "my orders."

She nodded.

"And?"

"And you're being sent someplace where you can't do any harm."

"He's being sent to a lighthouse," Tom commented.

"Exactly," Rebecca replied.

"Lighthouse?" Don asked.

"The United Defense Command is sending large ships to orbit in different parts of the solar system. They're calling them weather stations, but my guess is that they are supposed to be the first line of defense against an alien attack. You'd be among the first ones attacked… and destroyed," Tom commented.

"That'd be a good way to get rid of me without killing me outright," Don mumbled. That threw a wrench into his plans. "Red was supposed to request that I join his command on the moon," Don added.

"Right, like that request would get through," Tom said. "The government wants to be rid of you, Don… you and the Robinsons. If they send you off to a place where you'll probably be killed, the Robinsons will be forgotten."

Rebecca placed her hand on Don's forearm. "Not as long as I'm around, Don. This story is not going to die – wherever they send you…"

Don's unofficial security detail reported that he had slipped away and Colonel Walters ordered them to comb the base… discreetly. In the meantime, he arranged for his own search off the base through the local police department. He had three officers on his 'unofficial' payroll who worked for hire – they would do anything for the right price.

Walters' knew his stepdaughter. Once she had her eye on a story – or a man – she would pursue it to the end. Wherever they would find her car is where they would find West. He called the off-duty men and told them to bring West in by whatever means necessary…

Meanwhile, on Priplanus, the Robinsons held a celebration (of sorts) at dinner. Food was still scarce, but everyone was allowed a full cup of water – and water for desert. The garden would be re-planted in the morning and then they could rest more easily. Both John and Judy were looking better since the afternoon and they were making plans to store the water where it could be accessed regularly.

"I must warn all of you that, even though we have found a potable source of water, it is still a precious commodity. The logistics make it impossible to keep a large supply on hand," John announced.

"Why don't we just extend the pipeline?" Penny asked.

Dr. Smith groaned at that suggestion. The work involved would be beyond his comprehension.

"We don't have the supplies to extend the pipeline that far," John replied. "We'll have to travel back and forth in the Chariot and bring back what we can. Storing it with minimal evaporation will be our priority."

"So we still do our 'navy showers?'" Judy asked.

"I'm afraid so. Plus we must remember that there will be lag time between retrieving the water and filtering it until it can be used."

"So water will still be rationed?" Maureen asked.

"Yes, Darling, but, we'll have enough to survive."

"Thank goodness for that!"

After finishing their meal, Don excused himself to allow Tom and Rebecca some time alone. He hoped they would get to know each other a bit more. He felt guilty for using her. She had willingly taken on the story, but Don didn't bargain on her falling for him. He just wanted her to be interested enough in him to keep the story in the limelight. He wondered if he was doing his job too well. He entered the men's room and reviewed his behavior towards her since he had met her. As he washed his hands, three men entered and Don's radar went off. One blocked the door and another whipped out handcuffs.

"Major West, you are coming with us… quietly," one of them commanded.

"It's for your own protection," the other added.

Don looked them over. He knew they weren't military. "I don't think so," he retorted. He kicked at them as they lunged to grab him, but he had nowhere to go. Another slid a nightstick out of his sleeve and rammed Don in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. Don continued to resist – loudly – as they tried to beat him into submission. It wasn't long before Tom barged his way in with Rebecca not far behind him. She had her cell phone out and screamed that she had called 911. The three men pushed past both her and Tom and ran out of the building. The last thing they wanted was to be caught by their own department.

Don was curled up on the floor, holding his ribs with blood running down his neck from a scalp wound. Tom and Rebecca knelt by him. "The police will be here any minute," Tom commented.

"I didn't call the police," Rebecca stated.

"Why not?" Tom exclaimed.

"Because they're in league with my step-father. We're going to take him to a paramedic. Don't worry, we can trust him." She pulled a wad of paper towels out of the dispenser and pressed it to his wound. Don had finally caught his breath. "Stay put," Rebecca warned him.

He ignored her and groaned as he sat up. He stared at her. "Rebecca, you're in the men's room," he stated.

She laughed. "Here." She took his hand and pressed it against the paper towels. "Hold this while I go to the pay phone to call the paramedic."

Tom shook his head. "What happens now, Don?"

Don whispered, "I don't know."

"I'll contact General Bowers," Tom suggested.

"I can't go back, Tom."

"General Bowers can't protect you if you go AWOL."

He glanced at Tom. "He can't protect me now, either."