Water

by Anna Petrovich

  “Is he alright?” Her voice contained all the worry and panic that was going through her mind.

  “I’m not sure.” Dolinsky looked down at the unconscious man as he tried to move his hand, beginning to struggle up into a sitting position. “Ethan, what happened?”

  “Nothing, just a little bit of a headache, that’s all.” He gripped the arm of the younger man, pulling himself up onto his feet. His face was covered in sweat and grime, increasing the intense blue of his eyes. “Amber, it’s alright.”

  “Ethan!” The child was waking up again, his eyes staring curiously at her and a tear sliding down his cheek.

  “We’ve got a lead on the Park’s case, get this information to Carlson immediately. Send an extraction team before the authorities check this area. No…wait!” Dolinsky looked at him in confusion. “You can’t help us. Our pictures are already out on the APB.” He handed the phone to the younger man who looked at it, then bit the side of his cheek. “We’ll go dark, meet up later.” His body seemed to shrink visibly after the contact was lost, a helpless glint in his eyes.

  “Guess we’ve stepped into a pile of it.” Dolinsky made a poor attempt at a joke, gesturing to their surroundings. Despite the circumstances, Ethan gave a slight laugh, ending in a body wracking cough that doubled his body over. “What are your orders, sir?”

  “You’re the expert at breaking the law. You tell me.” A smile appeared on the man’s face, his mind beginning to search out ways to escape.

  “Can you walk?” A nod from Ethan was enough. They began making their way down the slippery brick, slipping occasionally. Both of them didn’t dare think about the materials surrounding them in the equally awful liquid.

  “When did you start?” The question took Tuvia by surprise, making him turn slightly in the tight space.

  “Young. What made you join the masses? You throw your lives away for nothing.”

  “No. We give our lives so that people like young Alex can have a life, free from violence and destruction.”

  “They don’t appreciate you. Care about you. Most men lose their families because they give time to complete strangers. Those people are not your friends.”

  “Maybe not. It’s not for everyone.” A sad look came in the older man’s eyes, the absolute exhaustion showing on his face. “We’ve both made our choice. Now we just have to live with it.”

  “Can you?” Tuvia asked, leading the way down another corridor while wiping some grime off his face.

  “I don’t know. Some days it seems like it never happened, then…the faces haunt you, won’t let you sleep.”

  “Then don’t sleep, just keep drinking. It takes away the pain, the memories, most of the past.” A bitter tone was evident in the young man’s voice while he replied. “I thought someone who was in the business of saving lives wouldn’t have the nightmares that come with taking them.”

  “There are still casualties, the ones you couldn’t save.” The soldier’s mouth moved to stop the emotion that was beginning to get the better of his strong mask. “It really kills you to know, you weren’t enough. You try and yet…they die. I keep asking myself, why? Why? What’s it all for?”

  “I don’t have time to get a conscious, neither do you. The authorities can’t follow our trail. They put us in prison and our lives aren’t worth…” His voice trailed off as the sound of splashing water and barking dogs echoed in the tunnels. “Run.” They staggered forward faster, slipping constantly in the muck until a door opened into the side. He tried the handle, then threw his body against it. “It’s solid.” Ethan pulled out his weapon, taking a deep breath before shooting. They were taking a chance in such tight quarters that a ricochet could come back to kill either one, but there wasn’t any time to waste. It also was a signal to the pursuers that they were leaving the sewers. The door flew open, leading them onto a platform of a tube station. People gasped as the two men exited, covered in muck and grime from the tunnels. Ignoring them, the men took off running for the stairs.

  The constant motion was beginning to make the older man’s system shut down, his hands shaking and breath coming in painfully shallow gasps. His vision became blurred at intervals, memories flashing in front of his eyes. Halfway across the street, a car came screeching to a halt as he fell onto the hood and rolled back onto the road. Dolinsky turned quickly, helping him back onto his feet and along the sidewalk. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m not…functional enough to get of here.” His words were slurred, the eyelids beginning to slide shut. The younger man shook him by the shoulders, yelling into his face.

  “You are getting out of here! You have a wife who needs you! The children need you! Focus!” The mists began to clear away from in front of Ethan’s eyes, but there was still a heavy weight on his shoulders. They struggled along the street, the older man’s arm hung over the other’s neck. Inside a shady bar, the assassin slid some money over the counter and they led the men into the back room. Sliding a large pool table out of the way, the owner threw back the carpet and opened a trap door. Once they were in the room, Ethan blacked out, unable to keep conscious any longer.

  His eyes opened to the sound of a fan, loud and raucous in the stifling heat of the room. Sweat was covering his face, while chills sent shivers up and down his body. A cough suddenly rattled in his chest, a painful stabbing next to his heart. Constant flashbacks assaulted his inner screen, a barrage of terrible sounds, faces, and pleading voices. He focused briefly on a memory, seeing the ruby cupboards inside the elaborately decorated kitchen. There were marble counters and flooring, but then his small feet stepped in the liquid. Turning to his right, a scream began to grow in his throat. His mother, his loving, darling mother was laying there, dead. Blood covered his small hands as he touched the thin shoulder. A footstep behind him startled the small boy. His father stood there, a knife in his hand, also dripping blood. Bending down, he set the knife down and put his hands firmly on Ethan’s shoulders. “Look here, son. You have to be brave. Don’t be weak. Understand me?” He nodded quickly, afraid of the terribly look in his father’s eyes. There was a kind of madness that tainted the black eyes with a grey light. Then men had burst down the doors, taking his father down and yelling in loud voices. A woman had picked him up, carrying him into the bedroom where his sister was just waking up from her nap. They had left them there, left a young boy to tell his sister that their father had murdered their mother in cold blood just minutes ago. It had shattered the boyish dreams, replacing it with a cold hard knot in his heart that never went away.

  Another memory shoved its angry head into his view, the screaming of another person in his mind. The first time that he’d had to shoot a man. He’d missed. Struck the poor boy in the chest, penetrating a vital artery. As he stood there waiting for the ambulance and the rest of the backup, the gurgling cry haunted him. He remembered going back to the barracks restroom, then bursting into tears. In the morning, he’d yelled at his reflection in the mirror for being weak. He’d used his fist to shatter the glass, blood sliding between his fingers. It had been good to feel the pain, took away some of the guilt. The kid had only had a moment of weakness, missing his parents. Guilt was weighing on him, it wasn’t supposed to happen that way.

  He awoke drenched in sweat, reaching out for anything solid to hoist himself into a sitting position. A groan escaped his chapped lips before the door opened. Dolinsky entered, followed by a woman who gently kneeled down by the bed before putting her hand on his forehead. “He’s got a high fever with some signs of deliriousness. We’ve got to bring it down.” She rose again and exited the room with a worried noise.

  “Don’t give up, old man.” The hardened assassin picked up the hand, looking into the sick man’s eyes. “You’ve got to fight for your family, understand?” Despite the exhaustion, he managed to squeeze the younger man’s hand. He slipped back into the sea of unconsciousness, until the cry of a woman woke him. Amber stood there in the doorway, her arms around the child and staring
at him.

  “Ethan!” She set the boy down, running to his side. “I thought we’d lost you, how could you make me wait?”

  “It’s alright, dear.” His hand was warm on her back, a weak smile on his face. “What’s happened with the agency?”

  “We’re still trying to get at Patricks through other means. Namely, the murder of Angelica Parks and the other people that Tuvia discovered in that office building. The evidence has probably been moved, but he did take a couple of photos down there.”

  “That’s useless now. A man with his legal assets can easily prove that they were photo shopped, forged. Even our witness would be useless, breaking and entering without a warrant with violent intent. It’s enough to put us away for years, for life.” Tessa entered behind them, a protest on her lips.

  “They couldn’t legally put you away for life, Ethan.” He smiled at her naiveté before replying.

  “We wouldn’t survive a week in there. Pay off some criminals, a riot can be arranged. Accidents happen all the time in prison, men die. It’s a rough place. No questions would be asked.” A wracking cough cut him off, doubling his body over and sending waves of pain across his chest. “We have to nail this man to the wall…before other people get hurt.”

  “Together.” Amber slipped her hand into his, a courageous glint in her fiery brown eyes. “Alex, come here.” The child ran to her side, his little hand gently resting on Ethan’s arm.

  “Are you okay?” His childish concern made everyone smile, a pain expression on Ethan’s face alone.

  “Have we found him a family?” The questions put a somber expression on everyone’s faces, the fate of the young boy weighing heavily on all of them. A silent message was telegraphed between the golden-brown eyes to the clear icy grey gaze that met her own, a proposition and an agreement.

  “Alex, Amber and I…” Ethan took his fiancé’s hand, looking at the small boy. “We want you to become part of our family.” The child’s eyes widened, then he threw his arms over the man’s neck. Tears slid down the little pale cheeks, the brilliant green eyes sparkling with gratitude and love. A painful sensation clutched at the man’s heart, while joyful tears slid down the woman’s face. Morgen smiled at the little family circle, despite the ache in her own chest. Even the assassin stood transfixed at the sight, a tear threatening to spill over from his cold blue eyes. The violence was pushed out of sight into the shadows for the moment, while a group of people marveled at the miracle of love in front of their eyes.

  28

  A black truck pulled up to the gates in the dusty dirt, a man handing in an envelope to the watchman who examined it. “Major Ryde, the lieutenant will be waiting for you, sir.” He handed the envelope back as the gates rose in the air, the truck going through into the large compound onto the cement. Two privates walked forward, escorting the man in silence down the long corridor of the building to an office door.

  “Sir!” They saluted in unison before returning to their posts, leaving him standing in front of the entrance to the room where the man sat who would decide his future. Taking a deep breath, Ethan knocked on the door.

  “Enter.” The man at the desk was looking through some paperwork, his eyes covered with some glasses.

  “Lieutenant Marshall.” Ethan stood, trying to keep his back upright despite the pain shoot into his legs from the recent trauma it had suffered.

  “Major Ryde, take a seat. The board wants to understand the reasons that this was out on the police network.” He tossed a pile of picture on the desk in front of the man who stood staring at them. His own face looked up at him, along with those of several of the agency’s team. “We’re trying to keep a low profile! This appears to be going around to every station in the city!” Ethan flinched at the harsh shouting of the man, his mouth going dry, unsure of how to reply.

  “Lieutenant Marshall. The nature of this mission makes it very difficult to remain low profile when the target owns half the city’s police force. It is my firm belief that someone is leaking information.”

  “A mole hunt. That’s what you want our agents to be working on?” The man sank back into his chair, waving his hand in the air. “This whole operation was a mistake.”

  “Sir, if you’ll just listen.” Ethan tried to explain, but the man cut him off with an irritated snort.

  “I’ve listened long enough to this nonsense. The Patricks file is closed for now, either accept the assignment offered by the board or get out of my office.” There was silence, then the young man got up and walked out of the room. Inside the truck, he sank back in the seat with a defeated stance.

  “Carlson, we have a problem.” The phone went silent, no response from the other man who must be as uncertain of their next steps as he was.

  “Who was the commanding officer in charge?”

  “Lieutenant Marshall.”

  “He’s a recent recruit, dependent on the other officers. Get back in there and ask to speak to a Major General Matthew Eason.”

  “Eason was an old commander of mine in the war. He’s still in service?”

  “Yes. Get him.” Ethan hung up, crawled out of the vehicle and walked over to a young female private who stood at attention next to a doorway.

  “Private…Dale. I need to speak to Major General Eason, immediately.” She stood, contemplating him for a moment. He pulled out his badge, showing it in the sunlight with a sigh.

  “Major!” Her arm was raised in a salute, the door opening to reveal a corridor leading to another office. The man who answered the door was older, a noticeable limp as he walked back to his chair.

  “Sir, Mr. Carlson sent me to get operational details required by the board.” Eason leaned back and looked at the younger man for a moment.

  “Who are you, son?”

  “Major Ethan Ryde, sir.”

  “Afghanistan, then Busan. We served together, then after the woman’s death…what is this world coming to? Are you doing well?”

  “Yes, sir.” Ethan allowed himself a brief smile, that turned into a wince of pain as the cough doubled him over again. “Just ran into a little bit of trouble with Patricks’ man.”

  “You’ll be needing the full authority of the military behind you for this.” Eason pulled a drawer open, removing a metal lockbox and setting it on the desk. The key turned, revealing a loaded gun and a badge. “Report to this office tomorrow morning to receive a uniform, it won’t be necessary to wear constantly, but might keep you out of a civilian prison. We’ll be monitoring your movements at all times in order to bring you in after an arrest.”

  “Sir?” Ethan picked up the gun, then the badge before looking at the old general in confusion.

  “You’re back in the military, son. There’s no other way to protect you or that young assassin. To the civilian authorities, you are a threat. Get that other man in here to receive his gun and badge. It’ll have to do. I don’t like it, but we can’t have them arresting you kids to throw in a Federal prison.”

  “Yes, sir.” His arm was crooked in a salute, standing proud and tall – a memory of his first day breaking into his thoughts.

  “You are dismissed from duty until eight o’clock tomorrow, major.” Ethan left the office, climbed into the truck, and directed it back to the city of Los Angeles.

  His fiancé stood in the doorway of the house, braiding her long hair with a thoughtful look on her face. She saw him, eyes following his movements. Carlson came from across the lawn, stopping next to the car.

  “You got any information?”

  “The army doesn’t share its information with outside civilians unless authorized to do so, sir.” Ethan handed the badge to the older man with a sigh. He hated the piece of leather, plastic, and metal that went in the pocket. It was a symbol of authority, authority that he’d given up a long time ago.

  “He’s just protecting you, Ethan.” Carlson could see the disgust in the soldier’s face, understanding the feeling behind it. There was so much responsibility that came with that badge
. This man was just becoming a father and a husband. He wanted out, but they were throwing him back into the nightmare.

  “I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier.” They stood there looking at the peaceful suburban houses, listening to the birds on the telephone wires, each deep in thought. Memories of a different nature were passing through their minds, violence and fear the main emotions. It was morbidly at odds with the calm setting.

  “Ethan, what happened?” Amber came up behind them, her hand on his arm.

  “They’ve reinstated me as a major in the United States Military Police for the time being. It will keep the civilian authorities from being able to detain me in a Federal facility, although field work might be out of the question. Get Dolinsky to report to Eason immediately. His life will depend on temporarily doing the same.” Carlson took off for the house, while the couple following at a slower gate.

  “How does it feel?” The question took him by surprise, a wave of mixed emotions wanting to come out in a confused jumble of words.