by Melody Anne
“I don’t think it’s something they willingly enter. I think they do one small thing wrong and get away with it, and then the crimes grow. Before too long, it’s all so out of hand, they don’t know how to turn back the clock,” Chad said with sadness.
“And drugs play a bad role in the behavior too,” Eyes said, his expression narrowing.
“That’s why our team was formed. Someone has to draw a line in the sand and help eliminate this problem that’s destroying so many lives.”
“We’re doing it. We just have to remember it’s a marathon and not a sprint,” Chad said.
“I want to snap my fingers and have the world right itself. Maybe I empathized with Thanos,” Eyes said with a chuckle.
“I don’t think mass extinction’s the way to go, but yes, it would be nice to eliminate true evil at the snap of the fingers,” Chad said, joining him in laughter.
“As fun as the Avenger world is, I’m going to bring it back to Damien,” Eyes said. Their smiles both faded. “Now that we’re getting more information on him, it’s time for me to help dig into him on a personal level. Green’s tracking him through the senator. Brackish is pulling all of the electronic files. It’s time for me to get intimately involved in this case.”
“Good. Beyond us wanting to get this done, Joseph wants to know if a member of his family is involved in this. I can’t imagine what’s going to happen if Damien is found guilty,” Chad said.
The conversation dropped naturally as the two finished looking over paperwork and consolidating forms. Twenty minutes later they were finished. Chad filed out of the office and went to his car.
Once the taillights of Chad’s vehicle had passed out of sight, Eyes powered on his phone, flipped down the list of names on his contact list, highlighted Damien’s, then pressed the call button. A series of rings passed before the call was connected.
“Hello.”
“D-Train, that you?” Eyes asked, using Damien’s call sign that few people knew.
“Eyes? What’s going on, brother? Are you still in the Seattle area?” Damien asked with what seemed genuine enthusiasm.
“Yeah, brother, it’s me, and I’m still around. I know it’s been a minute since we saw each other at the veterans center, but I’m wondering if you’re still available to meet up,” Eyes said.
“Hell yeah, I am. Anytime for you. Damn, man . . . what are you doing this afternoon? I’m surprisingly free and would love to have you over. You can meet my wife and kid, have a barbeque, and we can drink a couple of beers and talk about the good ole days,” Damien said. His attitude and enthusiasm seemed real, but that made Eyes suspicious. Was it over the top? Why did Eyes have to question everything now? He hated that.
Eyes wasn’t going to focus on that, though, as the invitation was the best possible outcome. The two agreed on a time. Eyes won the argument on bringing beer and a side dish, and they hung up; the first phase of his part of the operation was underway.
Brackish wanted to get all of the bells and whistles set up on Eyes, but the only thing Eyes would accept was the data collection device, ripping all of the information off of Damien’s phone. There was a quick protest from Brackish, but he knew Eyes wasn’t going to be talked into being a walking audio and video robot. Eyes had given the argument that if he couldn’t judge the character of someone he’d gone into battle with then his time as a team leader should end. Brackish didn’t push the issue after that.
Eyes used the next hour and a half to get in a hard workout. The release of endorphins, dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin from working out not only helped him feel better overall, but it had a direct impact on how focused he was the rest of the day. He’d worked out in some fashion almost every single day since Sleep and he had gone through rehab in Germany.
The continuous moving helped stave off the depression that would start to creep in during those quiet times. The reality of not being able to serve, or even move the way he had before the injuries set in, would be enough to make even the strongest eventually break down. If it wasn’t for the workouts, Eyes knew he’d have had to battle an invisible enemy. He wouldn’t allow the darkness to creep in — not ever.
Physically exhausted, but mentally rejuvenated, Eyes went to his room in the special ops building and started his process of getting ready for the afternoon. He knew he’d need to get his own place soon, especially if he planned on trying to get close to Damien. It wouldn’t make sense to never invite his old war buddy to his place.
If Eyes was being honest with himself, there was a piece of him that didn’t want to put down roots in this area, even if those roots were under a false pretense and couldn’t be considered settling down. In this building, nothing was his, so there was no attachment to it other than the men he was working with. Having individual keys, a couch, and a bed was more than enough to make a man feel like a place was his home.
Eyes didn’t want to get that feeling and he knew it wouldn’t happen while he stayed in the command center. He knew once the operation was over Sleep and Brackish would have difficult decisions to make about where they ended up living now that they were married. Sleep would have a very difficult go of it as his wife had just started a new career in the area while Sleep’s job was still in San Francisco. Eyes didn’t need that kind of drama.
With Damien’s address plugged into the GPS, Eyes shifted the car into gear and took the route indicated on the screen. The closer the highlighted line got to the end destination the nicer and more opulent the homes became. When he was directed to take the last left turn before reaching Damien’s place it was obvious that anyone who lived in that neighborhood had a net worth that had at least seven zeros at the end of the number. The other thing that struck him was how sterile everything looked. Perfectly manicured lawns, shrubs, and trees. Not a thing out of place as if the entire scene was taken out of a magazine.
More than any of that, the most striking thing that stood out was the complete absence of children playing. Be it in yards, driveways, sidewalks, or even streets. Where were the kids with bikes, chalk, jump ropes, or a plethora of other items that would keep them happy and active? Had he been away from his country too long to notice a societal change? Had he been fighting for the freedoms of these kids only to have their parents not take advantage of being able to set them up in the neighborhoods where it was completely safe but instead choose to lock themselves and their kids inside, away from the beauty the outside world provided? Something struck at Eyes’s soul and it hurt more than he wanted to admit to himself.
Pulling into the driveway of Damien’s home shouldn’t have shocked Eyes, but it did. The place looked as if it was a newer version of an 1800s southern plantation. There were columns holding a second story wrap-around porch that mirrored the lower level. Intricate lattice work wound around the entire upper porch while the lower one was open from the grass to the inlayed brick with a geometric design no one could deny mesmerized in its flow. Massive windows reached at least twelve feet high and were precisely spaced to give the entire face of the home perfect symmetry.
The massive front door opened in half, each side opening wide enough for three grown men to walk through. If both doors were opened, Eyes wondered if a semi would fit through it, both in height and width. He made an educated guess that it would. Damien walked out, his smile wide and seemingly genuine.
“Eyes,” Damien called. He quickly descended the steps. Then he grabbed the six pack from Eyes’s right hand so the two men could shake. “It’s been a while, so I’m glad you could come on such short notice.”
“Me too. We come back from foreign lands, get busy, and forget to check on each other. Seeing you again has reminded me how important that is. I’ve made a couple of dozen calls over the past month to men and women I should have gotten a hold of long ago,” Eyes told him.
“I did the exact same thing,” Damien said with a laugh and a clap on the back. “I guess great minds think alike.” He paused for a mo
ment to look at the front door he’d left ajar. “We’d better get inside before the dogs come barreling out.” Damien pivoted toward the house.
The interior of the house made the exterior look ordinary. The chandelier that hovered over the foyer was majestic, rich light splitting and reflecting through the enormous room. It was directly over a mahogany floor with stairs curving up both sides of the room. It spoke of elegance and riches; the entry room had been created to stop people in their tracks.
“Nice place, D-Train,” Eyes told him, meaning it.
“Thanks, brother, business has been good since I left you in Africa,” Damien said with laughter.
“I’d say,” Eyes quipped.
The men walked directly to the kitchen that was about the size of the bottom level of the home Eyes had grown up in. Like the missing kids, Eyes noticed there were no noticeable kitchen products or utensils. There was no refrigerator, no oven, no drawers. It looked as if a wall and an island were dropped into the kitchen and then left unfinished.
The question was answered as Damien pushed his hand into a false wall, pulled, and then the contents of a fully stocked fridge was revealed. Eyes, in awe of how seamlessly the device was built into the wall, didn’t even realized he’d handed over the beer he was carrying as well as a container full of a shrimp salad.
“Let’s get the obligatory tour of the house over with. My wife always tells me people love this type of home and want to see it but don’t want to be rude and ask for themselves. I have to admit I’ve loved the place from the first moment we walked inside those huge doors. Sierra will be home any minute. She and our daughter, Samantha, went out for the day. But my wife’s always happy to meet my old friends.”
“Looking forward to meeting her. Before we go anywhere — what’s up with this kitchen? Everything’s hidden like some spaceship. Where’s the stove, the dishwasher . . . hell, where’s the sink?” Eyes asked.
“Crazy isn’t it? “Damien said. “Watch this.”
Hidden under the lip of the island Damien pushed a button and a portion of the Pyrolave countertop dropped down a couple of inches and then slid silently away. In the same motion a faucet rose, presenting the user on-demand hot water in addition to the regular hot and cold options.
“What in the hell?” Eyes exclaimed.
The two of them laughed at the absurdity of it and then went on the tour of the house that could’ve taken ten times longer if either of them cared about looking at the details of random stuff. The one thing that caught Eyes’s attention was the numerous family photo’s strewn across the entire mansion. More than a few of them had at least one of the Anderson family members in them.
Sierra and Samantha were in the kitchen when Damien and Eyes made their way back. Eyes was surprised to see the genuine love and affection in Damien’s eyes as he spotted his wife. The man Eyes had known didn’t show emotion, let alone love and excitement. He had a really difficult time knowing how to read Damien.
Damien left his side, walked swiftly to his wife, and lifted her in his arms before giving her a kiss that would make anyone watching blush. She was giggling when he let go of her. “I missed you,” he said in a soft tone.
“I’ve been gone for four hours,” she said with a giggle that took years from her face.
“That was four hours too long,” he said. Then he frowned in a mock pout. “Are you telling me you didn’t miss me?”
She laughed with pure joy. “You know I missed you,” she said. “But aren’t you embarrassed to be so mushy in front of one of your buddies?”
He kissed her again, this time short and sweet. “Nah, not at all,” Damien assured her. “But I guess I should introduce the two of you,” He turned, his arm wrapped around his wife. “Eyes, this is my wife, Sierra. Sierra, Eyes.”
Sierra looked at Eyes with a brow raised. “Eyes?” she questioned.
Eyes stepped forward. “That’s my nickname. Real name’s Jon. Feel free to call me either,” he told her. She took his hand with a surprisingly firm shake, his respect for her growing.
“I like Eyes,” she said. “And this is my daughter, Samantha.” The beautiful young lady stepped forward and shook hands, her touch light. She seemed pretty shy . . . and he recognized her.
“You look familiar,” Samantha said, studying his face quizzically.
Eyes laughed, shocked she’d remember him. “I was at the paintball war with your family.”
Her beautiful eyes widened. “Oh my gosh! That’s it. You were like a ninja,” she gasped. “Each time we went in I was shot within seconds. You probably got me at least a dozen times yourself.” She laughed as she spoke, but she wasn’t wrong. Even in a game Eyes and his team couldn’t tamp down the soldier that was always in them.
“My buddies and I might be a tad competitive,” Eyes said in explanation.
Damien laughed hard at those words. “A tad is the understatement of the year,” he said.
“And you aren’t?” Eyes pointed out.
“Didn’t say I wasn’t. I know how good I am. It’s always fun when I have a nice challenge thrown against me. It doesn’t happen too often.” There was confidence and truth in his words and expression.
“You guys go ahead and talk war. I have a phone call to make,” Samantha said before she left them.
Damien pulled out a couple of beers, Sierra opened a bottle of wine, and the three of them made their way to the back deck, which could have easily been a landing zone for a helicopter, maybe even two helicopters.
“So, Eyes, Damien told me the two of you go way back, that you two were in a Middle Eastern country together. He talked non-stop about you as a person but not what you two were doing over there together. Maybe you can fill in the blanks.” There was a playful smile given to her husband as Sierra took a drink of her wine, the cool bottle already sweating from the heat of the day.
“Ah, darling, nobody wants to hear about that dry dessert and those miserable days,” Damien said.
“Shut it,” Sierra said with a laugh. She then turned her attention back to Eyes.
Eyes looked over to Damien to make sure this wasn’t a moment where matrimonial bliss was going to take a hit if he told the truth. Receiving a small nod to go ahead, Eyes started his story.
“It was Africa, not the Middle East. I was on assignment in Mogadishu, part of a training operation with some of the local military, when this young punk, trying to act as if he were Tony Stark, began talking about military contracts he was working on.”
“Who?” Sierra asked, looking back and forth between the two men.
“Iron Man. The First Avenger,” Damien clarified, then mock-glared at Eyes.
“Oh. That sounds about right. He was a very cocky man when I met him,” she said, poking her husband in the side of the arm playfully. Then her expression softened. There was more to that story, Eyes was sure, but it wasn’t an area he was free to ask about unless they volunteered.
“He had a couple weapon upgrades he was selling to the US military, and the group we were working with was to test them out. Very similar to the Iron Man movie, when we were out on a run there was an attack on our team. Unlike Iron Man, Damien went straight into action. He wasn’t supposed to be involved at all, but he was right in the middle of it with the few of us who were taking the fight to the enemy. It was by all regards a life and death situation that most people would’ve wilted under,” Eyes said, saving many of the gory details that went with that day.
“Are you serious? Damien, is that true?” Sierra asked.
“One hundred percent true, ma’am. When we returned to base he could’ve easily asked to go home but he went right back to his business, acting as if what he’d just gone through was something that had happened multiple times in his life. The truth of it, I found out later, was he’d only shot a gun a couple times in his life before that moment. Men like Damien are more than few and far between, they’re so rare they make diamonds look like grains of san
d on an endless beach,” Eyes said and meant it. For the story at least.
“Oh my gosh, Damien, why didn’t you ever tell me this?” Sierra questioned.
“No big deal. I was doing work, a situation arose where I was needed, I helped where I could and that’s that.” Damien shrugged while taking a large refreshing drink of his beer. He finished it off, set it down, and was about to get up to gather another when his wife stopped him.
“Now that I know I have a badass in my house, I guess I can get him a beer,” Sierra said over her shoulder while walking toward the house, laughing at her own words.
“She really didn’t know?” Eyes asked, shocked.
Damien gave him a grim look. “I’m not proud of that time in my life. I was an asshole to the world, to my friends, and especially to women. So, I just act as if my past is over and done with. But no matter how I try to lock the past in a box, it does have a way of springing free with new surprises. But Sierra has helped me heal, to face the past and the future.”
Eyes was really having a hard time seeing Damien as a bad guy. But then again, wasn’t that what all the friends and family said of serial killers? The people closest to them never had a clue they spent their free time committing unspeakable acts of terror. Was Eyes only seeing the man he’d had such respect for years earlier while refusing to see the monster in front of him? He didn’t think he was capable of being nonbiased.
“Glad to see you got a good one, D-Train,” Eyes said.
“She’s great. We had a pretty sordid start to our relationship that can be saved for another time, but I do have to say I’m definitely a blessed man.”
“Speaking of being blessed, are you getting into the political field with that senator? It was Mills, right?” Eyes started in with the real questions he wanted answers to.
“Miller . . . I still don’t know about that, but we’ve been able to help each other out some. We’ve opened up connections for each other. She has business connections that’ll help me build my enterprise, and I have numerous people who’ve always wanted to be connected to a high-level politician, and they’ll be more than happy to pay handsome amounts of money for that connection,” Damien said flatly.
