by CW Browning
Chapter Seven
Damon watched from the darkness as Alina moved past the sliding doors again on her way to the kitchen. She had been pacing for the better part of an hour, occasionally going over to her laptop and checking the screen before resuming her loop around the living room and dining room. The night was silent around him and Damon felt comfortable in the darkness, watching. Raven was on the roof of the house, watching as well. Every once in a while, he disappeared into the skylight, only to reappear a few minutes later. Damon concluded that Alina had rigged some kind of entry through the skylight into the house. He glanced up at the dark bird ruefully.
At least she lets one hawk into the bedroom, he thought.
Damon hadn't heard from her in two days. He had been watching her for those two days, so he knew she was safe, but Hawk had to admit that he was bothered that she hadn't tried to make contact. Not since that night in her command center.
Damon rolled his head a few times before shifting slightly. He was settled on a thick branch of a tall, old oak tree, about twenty-five feet off the ground. From this vantage point, he had an unrestricted view of the back of the house and down the right side to the front. He had to appreciate the lack of greenery and obstructions in the immediate area around the house. While it had been done with the intent of the occupant having a clear view of anyone approaching, it had the equal effect of allowing anyone outside to have a clear view as well. He had tried a few trees the other night, avoiding her surveillance easily now that he had seen the monitors and knew what angles were covered. He finally settled on this one. It had the most unimpeded view of those available.
Damon leaned his head back against the tree trunk and wondered why she was pacing. Alina had always had a lot of energy, but he couldn't recall ever watching her pace before. He cast his mind back to when they trained for the Organization together. The tall guy...what was his name? Damon frowned slightly. Something dopey...they all made fun of it....Hubert? No. That was the drill sergeant from boot camp. Egbert! That was it! Egbert had done a lot of pacing in their training days, and Viper caused most of it. She always played devil's advocate. She was always counter-planning. They would come up with a plan, and Alina would point out all the flaws and why it would never work. Damon remembered it used to drive Egbert insane. Old Egbert was dead now, killed in some god-forsaken Mexican foothill.
Hawk's ears pricked and he lifted his head. The distant sound of a motorcycle interrupted his reminiscence, coming from the woods in front of the house. Damon stood up and swung silently and skillfully up into the upper branches of the oak until he was above roof level. He raised the binoculars and scanned the woods. The engine was more distinct now and Damon finally located it. It was approaching the house from the road. He zoomed in on the rider, relaxing when he saw the jeans and loose tee-shirt. He clicked a button and zoomed in on the standard issue 9mm at the rider’s hip. Damon dropped the binoculars back down to hang around his neck and dropped back down to his perch in the lower branch.
He watched as Alina closed the laptop and picked up a remote. She pointed it to the wall of the fireplace and Damon raised an eyebrow. So she watched the TV after all!
Alina came out onto the deck as the motorcycle roared past the front of the house and around the side. The rider parked in front of the garage and Damon watched as John took off his helmet and switched off the bike. Alina was standing on the deck, her arms crossed and her legs slightly apart in a defensive stance. Hawk suddenly wished he had thought to bring a listening device. He watched as John got off the bike and walked across the lawn.
“I tried calling, but you didn't answer.” John's voice carried across the night.
Damon sighed silently. Alina hadn't been watching television like a normal person. She had the security monitors wired to it. She hadn't known he was coming. She saw him on the TV. Damon shook his head slightly. Did the woman ever take a break?
“Usually that means someone is busy or not home,” Alina answered, her voice clear and steady.
“Well, clearly you're home.” John stopped walking at the steps to the deck. He rested one hand on the banister. “So does that mean you're too busy to talk?”
Alina looked at him in silence for a moment. He was dressed in jeans and a loose-fitting green tee-shirt. His FBI weapon was at his hip, and his badge was clipped onto his belt.
“Are you here in an official capacity?” she asked, motioning to the gun.
John glanced down.
“No, but it doesn't leave my side,” he answered.
Alina sighed.
“I am busy, but you can talk,” she told him.
In the tree, Damon grinned as John stepped onto the deck. First line of defense crossed, he thought. Let's see if she lets you in the house. Damon raised his eyes at movement on the roof. Or if you pass Raven's test.
Alina backed up, uncrossing her arms as John joined her on the deck. She motioned to one of the chairs.
“Have a seat.”
“Thank you.” John smiled at her. “I wasn't sure if you were going to try to punch me.”
“You haven't done anything recently to warrant that,” Alina retorted.
There was a faint rustle and Raven swooped down suddenly out of the darkness.
“Holy Mother of God!”
John yelped and ducked, throwing his arm up defensively. Raven buzzed his head before landing silently on the deck banister. Damon bit back a laugh in the darkness. He knew from experience how startling it was to have the big hawk suddenly appear out of nowhere and swoop down on you, but that didn't stop him from thoroughly enjoying John's discomfort.
“What the hell is THAT?!” John exclaimed.
“THAT is a hawk,” Alina retorted. “His name is Raven. Play nice or I'll have him pluck your eyes out.”
“You named it???”
John straightened up and stared at the huge black bird of prey who was staring right back at him.
“Of course I did.” Alina moved past him to sit on one of the chairs. She sat back and crossed her legs. “He's a pet. And he makes a wonderful guard dog.”
“I can see that.” John slowly moved to the other chair and sat down, never taking his eyes off Raven. “Although, I wouldn't have thought that you needed one.”
“I don't,” Alina answered, smiling slightly. She watched in silence as John watched the bird. After a moment, she cleared her throat. “You may not want to stare too long,” she advised gently. “He might take it as a sign of aggression.”
“I can't help it.” John finally tore his eyes away from the hawk.
“So, what can I do for you, John?” Alina asked.
Her nerves had been on edge ever since she saw him on the surveillance camera. It infuriated her that he still had the ability to make her feel anything, but he did. She was filled with a nervous energy, but Alina's feelings for John had long since died. She knew this was just the energy of memories.
“I wanted to talk, just the two of us,” John said slowly. “Without Stephanie or Angela weighing in on every word we say.”
Alina looked out over the dark backyard and nodded.
“Fair enough,” she agreed. “There are probably some things that should be said...just between us.”
Her eyes scanned the darkness out of habit, then paused briefly at a point in the darkness.
Damon stopped breathing. She was looking right in his direction. He knew there was no way she could see him, but he held his breath anyway. He couldn't hear what was being said now, and more than ever he wished he had audio on the deck.
“Exactly,” John said. He looked at her. “What are you looking at?”
He turned his head to look out into the darkness. Alina shook her head.
“Nothing,” she answered, standing. “Do you want a drink? I think I might have a beer or two.”
“Sure.”
John stood up, but Alina pushed him back down into his seat.
“I'll bring them out,” she said, moving toward the doo
r. “Relax.”
“Right. I'll just relax then,” John agreed, turning his gaze back to the hawk that was still watching him. “Here. Alone. With a big friggin BIRD OF PREY!” He raised his voice to call after her as she disappeared into the house.
Damon chuckled to himself. Well, he had heard THAT clear enough. Damon watched as Alina went into the kitchen. She reappeared a minute later with two beers in her hand, which she set on the counter while she opened her laptop. He frowned. Oh, now she had beer. He shifted restlessly and the weight of his binoculars made him look down. Hawk smiled slowly and lifted them to his eyes, zooming in on the deck. He may not be able to hear what was said, but he could see what was said. Lip-reading was sometimes misleading, but he was too curious to pass up the opportunity.
Alina set the two beer bottles on the counter and opened the laptop. She hit the space key and then moved the mouse, turning one of the cameras in the back slightly. She focused it on the area in the woods where she had sensed something. There had been no movement there. None. That was enough to make her suspicious. She angled the camera around and zoomed in, but could see nothing. The trees were dark and silent. Alina moved the camera back and sighed, closing the laptop. If something was there, it was very well concealed. Maybe she was just being paranoid. She picked up the bottles with one hand and went back outside.
“Did you two come to an understanding yet?” she asked with a grin, handing John one of the beers.
John snorted.
“Yes. We understand that we don't trust each other,” he said, lifting the bottle to his lips.
Alina sat back down and glanced again to that still area of the woods. As if reading her mind, Raven stretched, and then turned his back on them to stare out into the night.
“Good.” Alina sipped the beer. “Then you have a basis for a healthy relationship,” she announced.
John grinned.
“Is that what you call healthy?” he asked. “I seem to remember you saying that you couldn't live with someone you couldn't trust.”
“See what ten years can do? I've grown,” Alina retorted.
John laughed, then sobered.
“While we're on the subject...”
“We're not,” Alina said flatly.
“I am sorry for being such an ass,” John continued, ignoring her. “I threw away the best thing that ever happened to me.” Alina looked at him. For once, his expression was serious. “When you left, I realized that. But it was too late.”
The words hung in the air between them, made all the more haunting by their suddenness. Alina sucked in some air and sipped her beer, absorbing the apology.
John turned his attention back to the yard. He had watched for some flicker of emotion in Alina's eyes, some acknowledgement of what they had shared, but there was nothing. He’d always been able to read her like a book. Now, however, he couldn't read anything. It was like there was no emotion left inside of her.
“You did,” Alina finally spoke, bringing his gaze back to her. It sounded as if she was picking her words carefully. “But it turned out to be for the best. It forced me to make a life for myself.”
“A life without me,” John pointed out.
Alina looked at him and, for a split second, John thought he saw the old Lina he had loved. In an instant, she was gone.
“Come on, John,” she said, pulling her legs up beside her on the wide Adirondack chair. “We both know that was a bad relationship from the start. We're much better off now. You have a good career and I have a life that I am content with.”
“Oh, no doubt,” John agreed. “But I want you to know that I truly do regret what I did to you. I hope that we can be friends.”
“We'll see.” Alina looked out over the backyard. “I may not stay.”
“Yes. Stephanie said you are trying Jersey out again to see if it still fits.” John leaned back. “Where did you come from?”
“Everywhere,” Alina answered evasively. “I've traveled a lot.”
John glanced at her.
“With the Navy?”
Alina hadn't missed the searching glance. She smiled slightly.
“Of course,” she replied.
“Is that where you met Damon Peterson?” John asked smoothly.
Alina looked at him.
“Wow,” she said. “You sure don't mince words anymore, do you?”
“I didn't think there was a need.” John angled himself sideways in his chair so that he could watch her.
Alina shifted to face him, resting the bottle on her thigh. Her eyes met his and she was a little taken aback at the calm look of perception in the blue depths. Alina remembered Angela's warning and had to admit that here, again, she had miscalculated.
“I do know, Damon, yes,” she said. “And yes, we met in the forces. And no, Stephanie doesn't know. I don't see that it's relevant to anything.”
John nodded, his eyes hooded, watching her.
“I figured as much. It was pretty obvious at the restaurant the other night.” He sipped his beer, his eyes never leaving her face. Alina stared back calmly. “Why don't you think it's relevant for Stephanie to know?”
“I just don't see that it's important.” Alina shrugged. “I hadn't seen him for a few years. I had no idea he was even working for Homeland Security. When you guys walked into the restaurant, I figured he would say something if he wanted it known.”
“And when he didn't?”
“Look. Your defense of your partner is touching, but completely unnecessary,” Alina said bluntly. “It's very simple. Damon and I met in boot camp. He moved on to Special Ops and I moved on to military intelligence. When people are in special branches, it's not something that we generally want known. We're proud, but we don't want to invite scrutiny. It was certainly not my place to tell you all that I knew Damon from the Navy.”
“Well, it's not like it's a bad thing,” John said thoughtfully. “It's an honor to be in special branches.”
“It's also like waving a red flag to a bull sometimes,” Alina retorted truthfully. “People find out that you were in special forces, and then some people want to test you. It's a stupid thing, but there you have it. People are stupid. Damon had his share of stupidity thrown at him.”
“Has anyone ever tested you, Ms. Military Intelligence?” John asked with a grin, dropping the subject of Damon for a moment.
“Yes.”
Alina wasn't fooled. She knew he would come back to what he wanted to say. And she had a pretty good idea what his “talk” was going to be about now.
“How?” John asked.
“It doesn't matter,” she replied, remembering an MMA fighter in a dark alley. She had left him with a broken leg and no pride. “The point is that it’s not conducive to a peaceful existence.”
“You had to have known when you told them...” John's voice trailed off at the look on her face. “Ah. I see. You didn't.”
“No. Someone else had that pleasure.”
“So even military intelligence has their showboats,” John murmured.
Alina shrugged.
“It's those stupid people again. They're everywhere,” she replied.
Her eyes wandered out over the darkness again. An owl hooted off behind her and Raven shifted his weight on the banister. Her eyes rested on him. Normally, he would be off hunting right now, but Raven didn't appear to be in a hurry to fly off.
“Well, that is something we can agree on.” John looked at her again. “You know I have to ask this...”
“No. I am not working with Homeland Security.” Alina turned her gaze back to his face in time to see his look of surprise. She laughed shortly. “John, just spit it out. What's on your mind?”
John stared at her for a second, his “Fed” mask sliding into place. Alina had the sudden urge to smack it off his face. He looked like a cop.
“We went to talk to Frankie Solitto the other day. The body at the tracks was Martin Sladecki, one of his older goons,” he said slowly. Alina just continued
to look at him questioningly. “He knew we were coming. He had a nice little story already laid out for us...complete with corroborating witnesses.”
“I probably shouldn't be hearing this,” Alina murmured, “but please, do go on.”
“Damon was the only other person outside our team that knew what we were going to do.” John stated flatly.
Alina let out an inaudible sigh. She hated when she was right. It took all the mystery out of life.
“Maybe you should look inside your team, then,” Alina said gently. “I can assure you, Damon is most assuredly not on Frankie Solitto's payroll.”
“I can assure you that no one on my team is either,” John retorted, “but Frankie knew we were coming.”
“So what do you think? That Damon and I are both on Frankie's payroll?” Alina laughed in genuine amusement. “Don't be absurd, John.”
“Then how would you explain it?” John demanded.
If he had still known Alina as well as he used to, John would have recognized the sudden glint in her eyes.
“There are any number of explanations,” Alina announced, making herself comfortable. “The most glaringly obvious is that one of his employees was peeled off a train track in South Jersey. The first thing the FBI does in a situation like that is go to question the boss. Everyone knows that.”
“Ok. There's one,” John admitted.
“Two, it's no secret that Frankie has people in the police department. As much as you hate to admit it, he has them in the FBI too. It could have been a janitor or secretary that overheard something, for God’s sake,” Alina continued calmly.
“Ok. There's two. But a shaky two,” John replied.
“Three...” Alina went on as if he hadn't spoken. “Frankie has surveillance twenty-four seven. He would have seen your entourage coming long before you hit the front gates.”
“Ok.” John held up a hand. “Witnesses?”
“How long do you think it would take to tell someone on his payroll to lie?” Alina demanded. “Not long, my dear.” John was silent. “Face it. You're looking for ghosts where there are none.” Alina's eyes flicked to the silent corner of woods. “Sometimes, things just are what they are.”
