Archive | Learning to Stand

12 March 2010 ~ 0 Comments

Learning to Stand :: Chapter Six ::

CHAPTER SIX

Three hours later
Wednesday early-morning
March 26 – 1:00 A.M. MDT
Denver, Colorado

Alex woke with a gasp. Her abdomen cramped and her mind flooded with images and emotions. In her sleep-induced stupor, she stumbled to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face to clear the nonsensical images. She startled when John spoke.

“What is it?” John asked. He was standing in the door. “It’s freezing, love. Come back to bed.”

He wrapped her in a blanket then guided her back to bed.

“Nightmare?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Your PTSD has…”

Next to the bed, a telephone rang. Rolling on his back, John reached for the phone.

“When was that installed?” Alex asked.

“Yesterday,” John said. “Shall I answer it? We don’t have an answerphone yet.”

“They’ll call back. What were you saying?”

“Your PTSD has been in remission for a while. Do you think you were triggered by your adventures?”

“Maybe,” Alex said. “I don’t remember having this kind of… experience.”

The phone stopped ringing then began ringing again.

“Sorry, love. I know you hate the phone. I wanted to make sure you could get me if… anything happened, you know? Shall I answer it?”

She nodded. He kissed her nose then picked up the phone.

“It’s Ben.”

John gave Alex the phone.

“Alex,” Ben said. “There’s been a kidnapping. The president asked for your help. He specifically requested ‘the Fey.’ Do you know the president?”

“Of course not.” In an attempt to get warm, she pulled the covers over her head. “The boys and I received the Presidential commendation last year. I mean Major Drayson did, not the Fey.”

“Well he’s asking for the Fey.”

“The Fey is on temporary duty. He won’t be back until sometime tomorrow.”

“Very funny,” Ben said. “We don’t have a choice here. The President of the United States requested our help in finding and rescuing his friend.”

“Who’s the friend?” she asked.

“Cee Cee Joiner,” they said in unison.

Fuck.

“No thanks.” She hung up the phone.

“What was that?” John asked.

“A nasty situation I don’t want to be involved in,” Alex said.

Rolling to her side, she stroked his naked chest. She slipped on top of him when the phone rang again. She kissed John’s lips. Moving, she kissed his neck. She continued working her way down his body with her lips until the phone was silent.

“It’s going to be okay,” John said when the phone started ringing again. “I’ll stay right here.”

John spooned around her and she answered the phone.

“Alexandra Hargreaves,” Ben said.

“I’m kind of busy here.”

“Get up. I’m sending the intel to your computer then I’m in the air. I’ll be there in a couple hours.”

“No,” Alex said. “No, not this time. No. Cee Cee Joiner. My plate is full. I’m supposed to put together this team and… Please Benji, no.”

Ben fell silent at her use of the name ‘Benji,’ her acknowledgement he was her father.

“You cannot refuse a presidential order,” Ben said. Switching to French, his voice was gentle. “You just can’t.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Raz has left for a briefing. It’s my expectation that you, and your men, will be ready to go. You have six hours.”

“Until what happens?”

“In six hours, you will need to function as a team.”

Alex’s hand flew to her mouth. Jogging to the bathroom, she managed to make the toilet before her anxious stomach voided its contents. She looked up when John gave her a wet washcloth.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Your hip is off,” he said. “I didn’t notice because…”

“You carried me in,” she said. She smiled. “That was fun.”

“You’re shivering. When do you have to…?”

“I have a couple hours,” she said.

“Come back to bed.”

He led her to the bed and layered down comforters over her.

“I have a cortisone shot in my bag.”

Knowing better than to argue, she rolled on her right side. Before her new hip, this was a twice daily ritual for Alex. He pulled down her pajamas and stuck a needle full of steroids and pain medication deep into her hip. She groaned.

“In pain?”

“Where’d you get the shot?” she asked.

“Habit,” he said. “All done.”

He slipped over her to the bed. She rested her head on his shoulder. Her hand looped through the chain for the dog tag bearing her name which he wore around his neck.

“Did you throw up because you were anxious?”

“Anxious,” she said. “I haven’t been eating so there’s not much to throw up. It’s …”

“Automatic, yes,” he finished her statement.

Warm and relaxed, she snuggled against him. She was almost asleep when he said:

“Is there something you wish to tell me?”

She jerked up to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought we weren’t going to do this anymore,” John said. “We agreed in Scotland to stop hiding from each other.”

“We did.”

“Alexandra,” John rolled to his side to look at her. “You haven’t had any alcohol in three weeks. Max and Raz are accommodating but not enjoying your need for decaffeinated coffee. And, I may not know a lot of things, but I know this body, your body.”

Slipping his hand under her pajamas, he cupped her breast. His thumb ran over her nipple.

“Your breasts are full and more sensitive. You’re softening around your face, your hips… in all womanly places.”

Alex rolled to her back to avoid looking at him.

“I’ve been waiting for you to tell me,” John said. “I thought you’d want to tell me.”

“You’re a solution oriented person. You’ll want to make decisions and I… I needed some time.”

“Why does Raz know?”

“He hacked into the doctor’s computer. I was… upset after my doctor’s appointment and wouldn’t tell him.”

“Let’s start with how,” John said.

“After we spent the day cleaning blood, flesh and decay off the floor of the vault in Paris, Raz went to see his Parisian lady friend.

“Clarissa.”

“Right. He left me in the bath.”

“I rang while you were in the bath,” John said. “You spoke with me and Max.”

“I remember.”

“You seemed all right, just tired. But something happened?”

“I started crying.” Alex closed her eyes at the memory. “I’ve read about this kind of thing happening in my Psych texts. A person dissociates feelings during a crisis. After calming down, the feelings come back.”

“Like what happened when you were held hostage?” John asked.

“Different. This was emotion. No memories. No sensations. Just a flood of sadness. I collapsed in the middle of our sitting area.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I couldn’t. It’s hard to imagine but I was that upset. Before he left, Raz ordered dinner for me. When room service arrived, they called the agent that was handling us. You remember him, don’t you?”

John nodded.

“The agent called a doctor.”

“CIA doctor?”

“Yes. The agent waited for the doctor then went to get Raz. By the time Raz arrived, the doctor had given me a shot and I was calm, kind of blank. The doctor told Raz to give me a shot every morning and every night. Raz stayed with me to make sure I was all right.”

“So it’s his baby?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Alex, he knows you’re pregnant. He was there in Paris. You slept together in Paris.”

“We shared a bed. He didn’t want me to be alone because I’m not any good in the dark alone. You’re the one who told him, ‘Don’t leave her alone in the dark.’ That’s what you told Raz. I was a month behind on the map phone. I’d planned on working at night so he could see Clarissa.”

John’s face flushed. He looked away from her.

Staring at the ceiling, she felt a wave of futility overcome her.

Failing. She was failing again.

Pulling the covers around her chin, she steeled herself for the rest of this conversation.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I haven’t known what to think. I should have asked rather than jumped to my own conclusions. I’ve been a jerk.”

“I understand. I’m sorry I haven’t told you.”

“You were telling me how you got pregnant.”

“The CIA doctor gave me a chemical which messes with the depo shot. It’s supposed to decrease my cortisol level. Raz gave me a shot in the morning and one at night. Remember? We called them ‘zombie shots’ because I was so numb.”

“I remember,” John said. “He said it was…”

“Vitamins. That’s what the doctor told us. Bodybuilders take it so he called it ‘vitamins.’ It wasn’t. My brand new gyno, Janelle? She talked to the doctor. My handler told the doctor I was the only one who could do what I was doing. The doctor thought the drug would allow me to get through the week. It probably did. He didn’t know I was on the depo shot. So that’s how.”

“We’re pregnant. You and I.”

Alex gave him an exasperated look. Biting back the nasty comment that lingered on her tongue, she nodded. When she looked up, John was watching her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because…” Alex let out a breath. “The baby is not…”

She had practiced the words in her head a thousand times. When it came time to say them out loud, she couldn’t say them. She looked at his sincere blue eyes and concerned face. Turning from him, she stared at the ceiling.

“You can tell me.”

She turned to him.

“He has chromosomal damage. Janelle expected me to miscarry before now. Plus I’m…”

“He?” The word burst from John’s lips.

“Simon,” Alex whispered. “I named him Simon.”

“Alex, we…”

Turning her face back to ceiling, she raised her hand. He stopped talking.

“I know what you’re going to say. We can’t keep him. Children conceived on the depo shot live less than a year. How can we bring a being so damaged into this world? I know. I know. I know.”

She knew what should be done. She simply couldn’t bear doing it.

“I’ve killed a lot of people… adults… who were trying to kill me. But I can’t kill him. I can’t kill him. I just can’t so don’t tell me to.”

“Why is Raz upset?”

“He feels responsible.” She rolled onto her side to look at him. He stroked her face. “He knows how much I want a child. And…”

“That’s why you didn’t tell me.”

“You’ll want to do what’s right.” Alex shrugged. “But what feels right is to let him live, as long as he can, and let God decide.”

“God. Yes, well. You’ve spoken with Father Seamus?”

“No way. He’d find some way to tell Mom.” Alex curled her lip at the idea of her mother getting involved in this situation. Shrugging off her mother induced irritation, she added, “I spent an afternoon with Brother Keith at the friary.”

“You worked in the garden at the Capuchin Franciscan friary one day last week,” John said. “What did Brother Keith say?”

“He said the Pope is very clear on this subject but God is less clear.”

“Sounds like Brother Keith.”

Speaking no louder than a whisper, she continued, “He asked me what I would do if a loved one was mortally wounded and suffering. Would I end his pain? Or let God decide? By keeping Simon, was I being compassionate or selfish? God would want me to be compassionate.”

John’s eyes caressed her face. With his hand at the side of her face, he leaned forward to kiss her.

“It’s a terrible burden to carry alone. May I share this burden with you?”

Alex looked up at him. Her eyes scoured his face looking for anger or judgment. She saw only love on his beautiful face. Burying her head in his shoulder, she sighed.

“What’s it like to be pregnant?”

“Weird, fun, exciting. It’s like a little butterfly lives in my diaphragm.”

“You’re not tired or sick?” he asked

“No. I feel… excited.”

“We talked about having kids when we were first married.”

“That was a long time ago and… well… we don’t have kids.”

“We’ve been kind of busy.” John chuckled. “My school, your work, my work, your injury, your work, my work…”

“How do you feel about all of this?”

“I feel… a lot of different things. Relieved. I’m an idiot, but I convinced myself you were pregnant with Raz’s baby.”

“Why would you believe that?”

“He loves you. You love him. It’s not such a stretch.”

“He has a vasectomy, John. You arranged for Emily to do the procedure.”

“I did.” John’s eyes flicked back and forth from her face. “So you’re saying you and Raz…”

“What is wrong with you? Of course not.”

She rolled away from him to stare at the ceiling. He pulled her back to his shoulder.

“You’re not the same,” he said. “That’s the easiest way to say it. You haven’t been the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“In some ways? You are stronger, more fun, wild like you used to be before you were injured. You aren’t depressed anymore. That is for sure. But in other ways? You’re distant, cooler. I’m terrified you’re closer to someone else or maybe you don’t want to be with me.”

She smoothed his curly hair.

“I’m exhausted,” she said. “We’ve done one stupid project after another.”

She fell silent.

“You know that,” she said.

“I do.”

“I’m not right, you know, in my head. God, Eleazar is dead and yet his presence is in every corner of my life. I don’t have a home. My bees are still at the old property. Everyone expects me to be strong and capable but I’m not strong… or capable… I’m supposed to be a leader… I completely suck at it. All I have is a pile of uninteresting work.”

She fell silent. He stroked her shoulder.

“I feel like there’s no safe place to rest my head,” she whispered.

Pulling her lips into a tight line, she wished she had not let the thought out of her head.

“You have me.”

“Yes, my husband who thinks I’m fucking my partner.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean for my insecurity to injure you.”

Alex shrugged.

“I’m still… recovering…,” John said. “Yes, recovering is probably the best word. I’m recovering from losing you last fall. I thought I would never see you again. I…”

Alex nodded watching his eyes fill with unshed tears.

“I love you,” he said.

She smiled.

“How is it for you to be pregnant?” she asked.

“Oh, as usual, I want to…”

“…control everything,” they said together. They laughed.

“I’m excited and very sad. I knew we couldn’t keep him…”

“Because of the depo?”

“Because of the depo. But, oh I don’t know. It’s so… normal to be pregnant. Last year, we’ve had a real church wedding in front of our families and friends. Now we’re pregnant… It’s like we’re normal people.”

John smiled. Alex looked up at his face and they laughed.

“And finally you’re barefoot and pregnant,” John said. In a flood of speech, he began: “And our lives will be entwined forever. He’ll be beautiful with his mother’s brown eyes and my brain. And he’ll grow big and strong. He will laugh all the time like his mother. We’ll take him to the park to play on the swings. We’ll buy car seats and baby clothing. Your breasts will get huge. I’ll work to support us. And…”

He stopped talking when she sniffed at a tear. He rolled onto his side. Holding her face, he wiped her tears with his thumbs.

“And I wouldn’t be me. And you wouldn’t be you. We’d live someone else’s life.”

“That’s what you want.”

“Never. I want you. I want to be me. You?”

“There’s a little Catholic girl inside me who wants all of that and more,” she said. “But I’d never be happy. Never. And Simon won’t live. I…  I don’t think I can have babies. So it’s all a dream.”

“A nightmare, sounds like.”

“I guess so,” she said. “I do love you, John Kelly.”

“I’m so very glad. How much time do we have?”

“About a half hour,” she said.

He slipped on top of her. He caught her lips then work his way from her face. She gasped at his teeth pulling on her nipple.

He stopped. Pushing himself up onto his elbow, he looked up into her face.

“Simon? You named my son, Simon?”

Alex laughed.

F

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05 March 2010 ~ 0 Comments

Learning to Stand :: Chapter Five ::

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER FIVE

“Why is the resolution of every B horror movie so anti-climatic?” Raz asked.

He stood between Matthew and Troy watching Alex work. Standing on a chair, Alex played eeny, meeny, miny, moe with the square at the top of the north wall.

“Because it’s a resolution?” Troy replied. “Alex, have you found a…”

Alex hit the last square and there was a soft click. A door sized one-inch depression appeared in the wall. Alex cursed.

“Our exit is covered…” She started.

Troy punctured the depression with the knife from his mini-tool. The small blade stuck in the dry wall. Pulling a nine inch bowie knife from its sleeve on his leg, Matthew held the larger knife up to Troy.

“Now, this is a knife.” Matthew gave his best Crocodile Dundee.

“Don’t start dissing my mini-tool or…”

“OLIVAS. MAC CLENAGHAN.” Alex jumped down from her chair. “Knock it off.”

Mumbling, ‘He started it,’ the men cut the dry wall around the door. Raz grabbed pieces and threw them off to the side. They revealed a metal sliding door.

“Hutchins? Tell the Jakker we’ll be five minutes,” Alex said.

Vince relayed the message to Alex’s Sergeant then disconnected her pocket computer.

“Gas masks. Check to make sure your oxygen is working. Check the person next to you.”

The men put on their gas masks then checked each other.

“Special Forces first,” Alex commanded. “Prisoner in the middle. Agent Rasmussen and Captain Hutchins and I will take the back.”

Sliding open the metal door, Troy revealed another concrete door. He groaned. Alex swatted him out of the way. There was a combination lock on the door. She opened the padlock then stepped aside. Matthew and Troy pulled open the door.

“Everyone. Guns out. We do not know what we’ll encounter. Let’s make certain we are on guard.” Seeing Jessie ahead, she said, “Ok. Go.”

Alex put on her mask when Matthew and Troy ran down the tunnel. Raz checked her oxygen. Reaching a turn, Troy ran ahead. Matthew signaled for the Weasel and his guards to enter the tunnel. Alex watched their backs as they moved down the tunnel. Raz nudged Alex into the tunnel.

They heard the sharp report of machine gunfire.

“Go,” Alex yelled.

Raz and Vince ran down the tunnel. Using all her strength, Alex yanked the cement door closed then reset the lock. Running down the tunnel, she found Raz waiting for her. They ran together down the rest of the tunnel.

“They were shooting so Zack would notice them.” Raz shouted through the mask. “They are going up on wires.”

“Can you make a wire?” Alex asked.

“No other option,” Raz said.

Alex shook her head at his usual response to his back pain. She opened her mouth to ask again about his option to have surgery then realized it was pointless. He was going to do what he was going to do.

They slowed at the entrance. Troy and Matthew had hacked enough space to step around the enormous Cottonwood tree trunk that grew over the tunnel’s entrance. On fire, the tree dropped flame and ember in the opening. Raz stepped a leg through the opening. Pressing his chest against the smoldering tree trunk, he shifted to pull his other leg through.

His back seized. With Alex pushing on one side, and Vince pulling on the other, they managed to get him through opening.

When Alex stepped, her left hip cramped. Vince pulled her through the opening. They stood in a small clearing surrounded by burning timber. She pointed to the wire. Vince clipped himself to the wire and went up with Raz.

Her forgotten ear bud squealed then began working.

“Heya Alex,” Zack said. “I’ve got everyone. You gonna hike out?”

Alex waved up to him. She saw movement in the passenger compartment and Troy slid down with a wire. Hooking her to the wire, he wrapped himself around her.

“To what do I owe this pleasure,” Alex yelled through her mask.

“Lost a bet,” he laughed. “Your hip’s off. I didn’t think you could make the wire.”

She smiled her thanks. At the passenger compartment, the men pulled Alex and Troy into the compartment. They piled their gear and masks into a cargo container then took their seats.

“Where to?” Zack asked through the intercom.

“Super Max,” Alex replied. “We’re taking this one home.”

“WAIT!” The Weasel screamed.

Troy pulled the helicopter door closed and the men clicked into their seats. Following Alex’s lead, they ignored the Weasel protests. The helicopter flew across Southern Colorado then slowed as they approached the United States Penitentiary Administration Maximum Facility.

“Last chance,” Alex said. “Talk now or forget it.”

The Weasel motioned her to sit next to him on the helicopter. She responded by forcing him to sit next to her. Untaped and undocumented, for the remainder of the trip, the Weasel told Alex everything he knew about the murder of the Fey Special Forces Team. When the helicopter landed, the Weasel’s mouth closed. Without saying another word, he and his guards left the helicopter.

“What was that?” Raz asked.

Alex shook her head. Buckling into her seat, she stared out the window at the dark clouds of the snowstorm.

What was that indeed?

FFFFF

Two hours later
Tuesday Night
March 25 – 7:30 P.M. MDT
Military Intelligence, Buckley Air Force Base

Alex waited until the last of the men checked through medical before returning to her office. She sent her Sergeant home, shut off the phones then began filing out the stack of paperwork on her desk. Every assignment came with at least one stack of papers. This year, she and the men had completed one stupid assignment after another until the paperwork towered on Alex’s desk. Flipping on her coffee maker, she settled in for a long night.

The coffee maker had finished its last burble when a coffee mug entered her line of site. She looked up to see her boss, Colonel Howard Gordon. He was wearing a dark cap and his overcoat as if he stopped by on his way home.

“I was surprised you didn’t look up when I came in,” he said. “Fascinating paper work?”

“Oh…” She sighed. “I fill in the boxes while I think about something else. I was miles away.”

He sat down across from her.

“How did it go today?” he asked.

“Which part?”

He laughed.

“You might have missed the reports, but there was an incident while attempting to interview the Weasel.” Alex shrugged. “I know you’re busy.”

“Yes, Major. I missed entirely the destruction of a national wilderness area.”

“I guess that’s not funny,” she said. Holding up a stack of pages, she added, “But it does provide for some excellent paperwork opportunities!”

“You have a Sergeant to do your paperwork,” he said. “You have a second in command. Hell, you have an intelligence officer in training who has nothing to do.”

“Oh shit, I completely forgot about him,” Alex said. “Is he still locked away at Fort Carson?”

“He was released by Captain Mac Clenaghan. While you were with Agent Rasmussen at the hospital, Captain Mac Clenaghan drove to Fort Carson for Sergeant Flagg. They are on their way to Denver right now.”

“Oh, thank God,” Alex said. She took a long drink of her coffee. “See, my second in command can’t do the paperwork. He’s busy with Flagg.”

“Major Drayson.”

“Yes sir,” Alex said.

“How did it go with your team?”

“What team?” Alex asked. “They fought with each other. They thought I was crazy. I had to yell at them to knock it off more than once. They were like competent tornados each working toward their own end. I… “

She shook her head.

“I suck,” she said. “I can’t do this ‘command a team’ thing.”

“Every leader feels that way sometimes,” Colonel Gordon said. “You need to get your feet under you.”

“I was wondering, sir, if I might join a team?”

Colonel Gordon’s scowled. This was not the first time he had heard this request.

“I’d happily take a lower rank and…”

He opened his mouth to say something then changed his mind. Shaking his head, he looked away from her.

“There are two wars going on, sir,” she said. “I’m an okay intelligence officer. And as you know, there’s more than a hundred people held hostage in the world at any given time. I could join the team that replaced us and…”

“Alexandra Hargreaves!”

“Sir?”

She scanned his face. His bushy eyebrows betrayed his worry over his obvious anger. She smiled as if he caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. He sighed.

“Maybe I could go back to drawing maps?” She gave him a big smile.

“Alex.” Pulling his cap off, he ran a hand through is bushy gray hair. “Every leader goes through exactly what you’re feeling. Hell, I’ve had many sleepless nights over this very same issue. The key is to find what works for you.”

“Charlie was so…”

“Charles O’Brien is dead, Alex,” Colonel Gordon said. “He was an exceptional man, a natural leader, and my friend. But he is gone. You have to learn to carry on without him.”

Nodding, Alex pursed her lips to keep from displaying her desperate grief at the words: ‘Charles O’Brien is dead.’

“Listen,” Colonel Gordon said. “I’m sorry. I see so much potential in you and wish you could see it yourself. You collected these men from assignments around the world. They came to here to work with you. Each man is the best soldier in his class. Period. And they aren’t easy. You didn’t pick them because they were easy. You picked them because they were your friends. And they left great assignments to work here with you.”

“But sir…”

“They’re pains in the ass. Every single one of them. Did you hear the feed from the Jakker while he waited for you? He disobeyed a direct order to return to base. A big fat ‘fuck you’ from the Jakker.”

“Are their repercussions to his defiance?”

“Christ, Alex. That’s my point. Everything the Jakker does is defiant.”

Alex shrugged.

“It might help if you filled the other slots in your team with neutral players,” Colonel Gordon said. “You still need…”

“No Marines,” she said. “I’ve never had good luck with Marines, sir.”

“You need at least one more Navy and two Marines. That’s not to mention your glaring lack of medics.”

“See, I suck as a leader.”

Alex tried her ‘please-sir-can-I-stop-doing-the-job-I-suck-at’ smile. Colonel Gordon glared in response. Her smile faded.

“The Fey Special Forces Team’s first year was not easy, you know.”

“But we had…”

“Charlie,” they said together.

“Yes,” he said. He softened. “Listen, I’ve never known anyone who has continued working after what you have been through. Most people retire.”

“I could retire,” she said. “Ben said he’s retiring this year. I could…”

“You know you cannot retire,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I could draw maps.”

Her eyes lit up with glee at the idea of retreating into the solitary joy of cartography.

“The Admiral would like you to return to extracting hostages. You’re supposed to be…”

“Creating a team that will extract hostages around the world,” Alex finished his sentence. “Problem is? I suck.”

“Alexandra.”

“Ok, you know what I’m really good at?” She pointed to the paperwork on her desk. “Paperwork is my specialty.”

Colonel Gordon raised his hands in submission to her sarcasm.

“What do you need to make this work?” he asked. “I’m authorized to give you any resource, training…”

“I need Joseph Walter,” she said. “He would know how to pull this team together. You’re right. We need to a few neutral members. He’d know how to choose the right people.”

While Colonel Gordon nodded his head, he eyes spoke his remorse.

“But?” she asked.

“It’s complicated. Fort Carson had dibs on him for their training staff. He can’t come here and be there. You know that.”

Alex nodded. She did know that. She just hoped for the help she needed. Sometimes she felt as if she was set up to fail. She sighed at her no-win situation.

“Don’t give up, Alex,” he said. “That’s really what I came in here to say. Everyone struggles, especially their first year. Just don’t give up.”

Picking up his cap, he stood to leave. He stopped in front of a photograph of the Fey Special Forces Team goofing for the camera. The photo was taken after they had rescued their first hostages – five journalists from the jungles of Central America. Colonel Gordon leaned closer to look at their faces. They seemed so young and happy. He stepped back from the photo.

“What did the Weasel have to say?”

“Nothing. Everything. Who knows?” Alex replied. “There are so many little itsy bitsy pieces to this puzzle. Somehow they fit together, but how? I have no idea how to connect the dots.”

“Perses was there? I always thought he was a myth or legend.”

“Perses accepted a contract to assess the viability of a hit on the Fey and the Weasel. He led us to Shelter 17. I probably could have found it but not in time. Plus he had the key.”

“Odd behavior for an assassin.”

“He owes me a favor or six. And, yes sir, he’s odd.”

“Well good night,” Colonel Gordon said. “We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

“And Alex, go home. You’ve done enough today,” he said. “Let Sergeant Flagg become an expert in paperwork.”

“Yes sir,” she said.

He raised a hand in ‘good-bye’ then walked out of her office. Looking from stack to stack, she finished her mug of coffee then poured another. She wandered to the place where Colonel Gordon stood. Her finger touched each face.

“Go home, Alex,” Jesse said appearing beside her. “There are no answers here.”

Nodding to Jesse, Alex dressed in her winter gear. Limping on her injured hip, she pulled her office door closed.

“Walk you to your car?” Jesse asked.

She nodded.

“Did I ever tell…?”

FFFFFF

Tuesday night
March 25 — 9:40 P.M. MDT.
Fillmore Auditorium
Denver, CO

John and Max were watching the roadies finish setting up for DeVotchka.

“Remind me. Why are we here?” John yelled to Max over the background music.

Max raised his eyebrows. He nodded his head toward the Slavic Sisters. The women trapeze artists were testing their aerial silk cloth.

“Yes, very interesting,” John nodded. “But…”

John felt a hand on his shoulder. He grimaced to Max then turned to see who touched him.

“Hi John,” the woman said. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

John tried to remember the woman’s name. She worked at St. Joseph’s Hospital or at least he thought she worked at the hospital. She spent so much time pushing her inflated chest and lips in John’s direction that conversation was nearly impossible. Too polite to actually dismiss her, he avoided her as much as possible.

“I heard your wife is out of town.” Her tiny hand caressed his arm. “When I saw you here, I figured you were looking for some company.”

John stepped away from the woman. She bat her long eyelashes at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Max laughing at him.

“Listen,” John started but his words were lost over the trumpet playing announcing the start of the concert. His attention jerked to the stage. Maybe if he ignored this woman…

While the band played their first song, the Slavic Sisters vibrated the aerial silk to the music. The silk tapestry billowed down from the stage hitting John’s face. He stepped back to stay out of the way. The trapeze artist winked at John then flipped the fabric from his face.

Smiling her crooked smile, Alex stood in its place.

In a breath, she was in his arms. She giggled when he lifted her from the ground. She wrapped her legs around his middle, their lips fused in passionate consumption.

When John pulled back to look at her, DeVotchka’s lead singer, Nick, yelled, “Drayson, get a room!” The crowd cheered in agreement.

With a nod to Max, John carried his laughing Alex through the crowded venue to Colfax Boulevard. He set her down for a moment then instantly regretted the decision.

“The cab’s waiting for us,” Alex started.

He lifted her back into his arms and carried her to the cab. Nestled in the back of the cab, they took the short ride to their new home. John scooped her off the sidewalk and carried her into the house. They kissed and stroked their way up the stairs until, unable to wait any longer, they made fast love on the third floor landing.

“Wanna try out the bath?” Alex asked.

“Very much so. But the water’s not hooked up to it yet.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story. Shower?”

“Bed?”

“You’re so traditional,” he said.

Opening the door to their bedroom, they were hit with a blast of cold air.

“NO HEAT?!?”

Alex ran to jump under the covers.

“You weren’t due back until tomorrow.”

“Lemme guess, long story?”

“I know how to warm you.”

Slipping under the covers, he did just that.

F

Learning to Stand is the second novel in the Alex the Fey thriller series
written by Claudia Hall Christian.

The novel is available in paperback at Amazon, our store, your local library and bookstore.
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com,
StoriesbyClaudia.com and AlextheFey.com.

Join the Alex the Fey Facebook Group

How to look like you’re a member of the Fey Team

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26 February 2010 ~ 1 Comment

Learning to Stand :: Chapter Four ::

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER FOUR

Raz threw himself on top of Alex. They fell backwards in her chair just before a particularly violent explosion. The lights in the room flickered, sparked then went out. The room shook. Every chair fell over. The mortar made a tinkling sound as it fell onto the concrete floor. A portion of the ceiling tiles crashed onto the table. The hot air filled with cement dust and mortar.

And somehow, the room remained intact.

“Was that for me?” the Weasel yelled over the explosions. He belly crawled until his face right next to Alex’s. “They want me dead.”

“Yes,” she said.

“I thought… I thought the explosions were for you or these guys or the weirdo the guards didn’t know or…”

“OK,” Vince yelled. “That’s probably it.”

“I…” The Weasel shook his head back and forth.

“Call!” Alex yelled.

“Hutchins.”

“Olivas.”

“Mac Clenaghan.”

“Rasmussen.”

“Drayson,” Alex finished. “Guards.”

“Here.”

“Your prisoner is over here.”

[...]

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19 February 2010 ~ 2 Comments

Learning to Stand :: Chapter Three ::

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THREE

Raz hesitated. Alex reassured him by putting her hand on his elbow. He looked into her face then nodded. They followed the man toward the forest.

“That’s Perses.”

The apparition of Alex’s best-friend Sergeant Jesse Abreu appeared beside her. Alex nodded her head slightly. As usual, Jesse continued in Spanish:

“The Weasel is completely freaked out, Alex.”

Alex glanced in his direction.

“Something weird is going on, but I can’t tell what. Ever since those Homeland agents arrived, he’s become more and more anxious. Perses has been with him the whole time. I think he’s guarding the Weasel. Funny thing for a no fingerprint, no name assassin to do.”

Alex raised her eyebrows. Used to speaking out loud with Jesse, Alex could only communicate with facial gestures. She signed ‘the guys’ in American Sign Language.

“The guys are following you in the forest,” Jesse said. “They’re tracking the GPS signal in your hip. In this forest, they could be six feet away and you wouldn’t see them. But I can.”

Alex smiled at his ‘so-there’ laugh. Jesse had been her best-friend since the first week of basic training. Their lives intertwined, they had been each other’s constant companion through Bosnia, Special Forces training, and the Fey Special Forces Team. In the doorway to the vault in Paris, he died with his head on her lap. His reappearance in her life was a gift. Especially now.

[...]

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12 February 2010 ~ Comments Off

Learning to Stand :: Chapter Two ::

CHAPTER TWO

Two months later
Monday early-morning
March 24 4:30 A.M. MDT
Denver, Colorado

“It’s weird, isn’t it?”

Alex lifted her head from the pillow to kiss her husband, John. Like most mornings, they started the day in each other’s embrace.

“What’s weird?” she asked.

“How everything can be the same.” His British accented words were punctuated with quick thrusts of his hips. “And still so different.”

She bit his ear. Even after thirteen years of marriage, she never understood why he started conversations in the middle of sex. He laughed at her ear nip reprimand.

“You mean the new bedroom? New house? New clothing? New…”

“Yes,” he said.

They moved into their new bedroom last night. She rolled on top of him.

“You mean everything,” she said.

“Yes,” he said. He kissed her lips. “Yet some things are deliciously the same.”

“Delicious?”

Her rhythmic movements caught his full attention. Sitting up to look at him, their eyes locked. His hands held her hips. They rose in intensity. She was very close when he said:

“I don’t want you to go today.”

She ignored him.

[...]

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05 February 2010 ~ Comments Off

Learning to Stand :: Chapter One ::

Today is the first day of my novel, Learning to Stand. Learning to Stand is the second book in the Alex the Fey thriller series.  The novel will appear one chapter at a time for the rest of the year. Learning to Stand is available in paperback at Amazon books or through our store.

Enjoy!

Title Quote

How do you pick up the threads of an old life?
How do you go on, when in your heart,
you begin to understand there is no going back?
There are some things time cannot mend.
Some hurts, that go too deep, have taken hold.”

Frodo Baggins in Return of the King;
Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh and Phillipa Boyens inspired by J.R. Tolkien

F

CHAPTER ONE

January 31 – 3:15 A.M. CET
Paris, France

“Shall I get a car, ma’am?” the doorman asked in French. He held the door for her to walk through. “Maybe an umbrella?”

“Non,” she replied. “Merci”

She stepped into the driving rain from the warm CIA hotel lobby. Wanting the rain, needing the river, she was drawn into the wild, dark morning.

She and Homeland Security Agent Arthur ‘Raz’ Rasmussen were in Paris to clear out the Fey Special Forces Team vault. Two and a half years ago, the blood and lives of eleven troops were spilled onto the floor, boxes and crates of that storage vault.

Ten friends. Ten beloved teammates gave their lives. She was the eleventh ‘troop.’ Turning onto the wide boulevard, Rue des Saints Pères, she snorted at the word ‘troop.’

She would have died.

She should have died.

But her friend, mentor, and, as she found out a few months ago, biological father, Ben received a tip that her team had been assassinated. Ben and his assistant, Raz, found her in the vault doorway with her best-friend Sergeant Jesse Abreu’s head on her lap. Raz carried her from the vault moments before she bled to death.

Two and a half years ago.

[...]

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