Chapter 1

1975

The floor of the C-130 Hercules swayed and bucked as the pilot lined up the nose of the turbo-prop transport with his ground reference point. Nineteen-year-old Second Lieutenant Jacob Elliott Turner, Florida Army National Guard, wiggled around for the hundredth time trying to get more comfortable. "As if that was ever going to happen," he thought, laden down as he was by the bulky equipment container between his legs. Not to mention the T-10 parachute on his back, his reserve at his waist and the M-1951 weapons container strapped to his side. It was July and it was sticky hot as only Georgia can get.

It was the last official day of Airborne Training, his fifth and final jump before he received his wings. The fifth jump was a combat equipment jump, hence the additional paraphernalia strapped to him. At least he was in the troop seat nearest the door. With no one to his right, he had a little more room to stretch out. The shortness of the flight was also a blessing. The C-130 took off from Ft. Benning, Georgia, climbed to fifteen hundred feet, flew a twenty minute race track loop, and dropped them over Friar Field in Alabama.

The red lights came on above the troop doors and the jump master held up six fingers.

"SIX MINUTES!" he shouted.

The crew chief on either side of the airplane hooked up their safety straps, opened the troop doors, and kicked out the jump step. The jump master, an Airborne Course Instructor commonly referred to as a black hat, hung out the door to do a visual 360 around the aircraft. His counterpart in the other door did the same thing. The airspace around the plane was clear, the jumpmasters pulled themselves back in and gave each other a thumbs up.

Jake was the first man in his stick of jumpers, that meant he would stand in the door and exit the aircraft first. He was standing in the door because he had been selected as the honor graduate of his class. Jump school was his reward for finishing first in his Officer Candidate School class, the first Guardsman from Florida to accomplish the feat. Jake laughed ruefully, he was a shake and bake butter bar in the National Guard, the lowest form of officer life. Yep, he was on a tear during his second military career. He had damned well better be good, he thought, after all he had twenty-five years of practice.

Jake was in the National Guard for two reasons: one was that it allowed him to serve his country while continuing his normal life. The other was that he wanted a second chance at being an officer. In his first life, he had turned down OCS and a chance at a commission to go to Vietnam with his Special Forces buddies. Of course, it would not hurt politically later on either.

The jumpmaster broke Jake's reverie when he stomped on the floor. He pointed to Jake and the trooper across from him.

"GET READY!"

Sixty-four combat equipped troopers moved to get into a position they could rise from.

"OUTBOARD PERSONNEL, STAND UP!"

Jake clumsily rose to his feet; he grabbed the anchor line cable with his left hand for balance, keeping his right hand over the d-ring handle of his reserve. It would mucho- sucko to have his reserve accidentally deploy inside the aircraft.

"INBOARD PERSONNEL, STAND UP!"

The paratroopers in the inside rows of seats tottered to their feet. Floor space was at a premium; the soldiers behind him pushed Jake ahead a couple of feet.

"HOOK UP!"

Jake unclipped his static line hook from the carrying handle of his reserve and latched it over the outboard anchor line cable. He made sure the opening faced the skin of the aircraft then inserted the safety wire. Then he grabbed the static line below the hook after gathering up a loop of slack.

"CHECK STATIC LINES!"

Jake tugged on his static line and made sure the safety wire was threaded through its holes and bent over. The safety wire kept the sliding catch of the static line hook from opening accidentally. The jumper behind him made sure Jake's static line was routed correctly through the elastic bands on the exterior of his pack tray.

The jumpmaster continued his commands.

"CHECK EQUIPMENT!"

The troopers checked their equipment, making sure that their equipment and weapon's containers were secure.

"SOUND OFF FOR EQUIPMENT CHECK!"

The last man in each stick slapped the ass of the man in front of him and yelled, "OK!"

When the okay was passed up his stick, Jake gave the jumpmaster a thumbs up.

"All okay, jumpmaster!" Jake shouted.

The jumpmaster pointed to Jake, then to the door and bellowed, "STAND IN THE DOOR!"

Jake shuffled forward and pushed his static line to the jumpmaster. He turned to his right and assumed a good door position, hands on either side of the door, right foot on the jump step, and head up looking at the horizon. The jumpmaster was looking out of the aircraft and down, searching for the flanker panel of the drop zone identification letter. He spotted the panel at the same time the green light came on. The jumpmaster stood up quickly and slapped Jake on the helmet.

"GO!"

Jake started to leap up and out when an updraft hit the aircraft. Instead of a vigorous exit, Jake was pitched forward out the door, the heavy equipment container unbalancing him. He bounced off the side of the aircraft with a thud, and then was jerked violently as his static line deployed his parachute. Jake had not been able to get in a good tight body position because of his ugly exit. As a result, he was spinning in the air, twisting his static line up to the canopy of the parachute. Jake could smell the rip-stop nylon melting as the canopy fused itself together from the friction. The canopy fluttered uselessly in a cigarette roll as Jake reached for the handle of his reserve. There was better than a fifty-fifty chance his reserve would wrap around his main. He could better those odds if he manually deployed his reserve instead of relying on the spring loaded pilot chute.

Your life did indeed flash before your eyes, he marveled -- as he began to wonder what would come next...

1972

February 1972 was a watershed month for Jake. After the death of Randal Thornton, he could move on with his life. The arrival of Nina Mallory was also a wake up call. Jake knew that he could effect some radical changes in the direction this time line headed. He planned to do just that. If he could get Nina on board and out of her lethargy, he would have a powerful ally. If his theory that recycled minds were responsible for individuals who changed the course of history was even partly correct, imagine what two working in concert could accomplish.

The ultimate icing on the cake was that he was only sixteen. He could not do anything for a few years except lay the ground work for his future actions as an adult. Since he could not do a whole lot more than he was doing, he might as well enjoy his down time in the ways young men always had. He was going to play sports and chase women. Oh yeah, and when he was old enough he was going to join the military. He strongly believed that service to his country was a duty every citizen should shoulder.

It was mid-March when he received the call from Sven that put him on the national radar again. Sven had been contacted by an independent film company that wanted to expand his Reader's Digest story into a made for television movie. Sven thought it was a good idea. Yes, it would probably be corny -- but so what? Oh, and, by the way, they are offering fifty thousand dollars for the movie rights for each of us, he added. Jake told Sven to do what he thought best, after all Sven was the advertising swami, not Jake. Sven took the movie deal and ran with it. Jake received periodic updates but for the most part kept his nose out of it. Truth be told, the whole 'Zero to Hero' thing embarrassed him.

Jake's love life settled down some also despite his stated hankering to chase the ladies. He still had a phalanx of willing women but, as everyone was caught up in living life, demands on him moderated. He had a day a week with Liz, pretty much on a set schedule of Wednesday afternoons. Tigger had completely recovered from her near-death ordeal; she was also a once a week lover. Tigger was so intense in her love-making she was wiped out for a few days afterwards. Jake was trying to get her to pace herself because a session with her was like being in a barroom brawl without breakaway bottles and furniture.

Erika still joined Melissa and him every once in a while but she was primarily focused on helping poor little Nina. Jake and Helga got together every once in a while for refined Nordic nookie. Jake suspected that Sven pushed her towards him when she got too demanding. Helen had become mysteriously unavailable. Debbie and Jody Marks were still an item and Jake enjoyed an occasional threesome with them. Angie and he got together occasionally to take the edge off Angie's cravings. Angie was still crazy about Tyler Thornton but she had needs, so Jake Turner gave her the periodic therapeutic pounding.

Big goings on were happening at the Doane house down on Riverside Drive. La Monte Dupree was now a resident there. He had worked a deal with his boss to edit only for Rebecca. Then he convinced Rebecca to make him her literary agent. The big surprise was that the affair between Rebecca and Dupree that Jake was expecting never blossomed. Instead, La Monte and pregnant sister Katie fell in love. The two of them were intellectual soul mates. Jake certainly had not anticipated that turn of events but he liked it just fine. According to Rebecca, they were also major horndogs, one minute debating Sartre, the next trying to push the headboard through the wall. Katie being pregnant did not bother La Monte; Katie did not mind that he was older. La Monte joked that he could walk the child to the school bus on his way to pick up his social security check. Rebecca told Jake he was stuck with his old maid librarian for a while longer and his continued inspiration would help her writing.

Most Saturdays he and Melissa spent with Hope and Faith. Carl and Diane were happy to get a break from them. It was a challenge having two energetic little geniuses under foot. Jake and Muffy would find something to do with the twins in the morning then they would go to the bungalow and let the girls work off a little erotic steam. Faith and Hope were accepted into the Stetson University Young Musicians program. Diane was worried about them living on the Stetson campus; she thought that all the young men there would be a distraction for the precocious nymphs. When Melissa offered to put them up during the week at her new place, Diane quickly agreed. Practically speaking, Jake's horizontal dance card was pretty much permanently filled with a broad variety of smart, attractive, and loving women and any new candidates would have to go on the waiting list in the margin.

The new house was amazing. Jake was blown away when Muffy took him there for a tour. Jake whole-heartedly agreed when Melissa said the place felt like the comfortable center where they would spend the rest of their lives. Melissa hired Turner Furniture to decorate the place; Helen personally took charge of the project.

Jake and Melissa planned to move in the first week in June; both had been accepted for enrollment by Stetson and were going to attend classes during the summer. Stetson had a program they called tri-mester that would allow them to attend school year round. Jake could graduate in two years because of the CLEP; it would take Melissa two and a half. Erika had also been accepted but was not that excited about the prospect of more school. Erika saw her future running their household, kicking anyone's ass that messed with Melissa and taking care of Nina. The martial arts training and weapons instruction were turning her into the Viking princess she so closely resembled.

Chapter 2 »