“Oh,” Abby said, snapping her finger, “too bad. I only help people on even-numbered half-birthdays.”
“Guess I’m out of luck,” Derrick said, smiling. “See you around, Abby.”
“See you,” she said, returning the smile. She couldn’t help the slight reddening in her cheeks, even if she did feel guilty about it. But come on, it’s not every day a good looking guy like that hits on you, Abby told herself, and it’s not like she’s undercover as a nun. No harm, no foul.
The next day, at morning formation, Captain Lopez called the entire company together for an announcement.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors by now, but we have one new agent joining Lima Company today. Please welcome Derrick Arthur,” the captain said, pointing out Derrick in the front row of agents. “And yes, that is Arthur like the President.”
Abby’s eyebrows shot up to the top of her forehead when she heard this. The President’s son? He was here in her unit, and had chatted her up just last night? This could be her huge break, Abby thought, and she started to do some scheming in her head, but then the captain continued speaking.
“But he’s not getting any special treatment here in Lima. He knows it, his dad knows it, and that’s why he came here. So by all means, haze the shit out of him.”
The agents laughed at the joke, and Captain Lopez dismissed them to carry out their plan of the day, though several agents and officers lingered to welcome the newcomer and to express their admiration of his dad.
Not Abby though. This stunning revelation needed some time to marinate in her head before she could plan her next move. She first thought that making friends with the son of the President could open doors for her that would lead to invaluable intel for the ReFounding Fathers, but this optimism was tempered by her next thought, which realized that getting closer to the fire meant increasing the chances of getting burned. She’d be playing a very dangerous game then, one that made her current situation feel cozy.
She looked back at Derrick, watching him shake multiple hands and smile with an effortless charm. With that kind of charisma, he’s definitely the son of the President, she thought. Although, even from a distance, she thought she could discern the slightest twinge of discomfort in his eyes with each heaping of praise upon his father. Then she looked away, and returned to her scheming thoughts.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A couple of days later, Abby’s squad was scheduled to do a patrol through District 2. They would roll out in vehicles, then some of them would dismount in trios and walk the streets for a while before getting picked up by a helicopter to return to base. Early that morning, Abby suited up in her all black fatigues, body armor, and a black ball cap with a short ponytail sticking out the back. A 9mm Sig Saeur pistol rested along her thigh in a drop-leg holster, a KA-BAR knife was fixed to her vest, and she carried an M4 carbine in her hands, with six loaded magazines on the left side of her vest.
A few hours later, Abby strolled down a street in District 2 with two other DAS agents, and everywhere they went they were met with fearful glances from those who didn’t abruptly head indoors. Abby remembered watching agents go by from time to time, usually when she was working, and even from indoors they were an intimidating lot. Now, she was one of them. It felt strange to be feared, and she couldn’t process it the same as the other agents. They’d all been raised and taught that these people out here were the enemies, that each and every one of them was a potential threat. These vagrants were right to fear the righteous might of the DAS. But for Abby, who had lived out here, those fearful glances made her feel like some kind of monster.
But you’d never guess it by the look on her face. She’d practiced for many days perfecting the same kind of blank expression that Zach always wore when they rummaged through Chicago. It was not wholly a sneer of anger, nor a look of boredom, but a combination of both, resulting in a robotic visage of absolute authority, a look that said ‘you are nothing to me, killing you would be a waste of my energy, but so help me I will do it the instant you give me a reason’. It was a look she wore well.
Almost too well, in fact. Hiamovi almost didn’t recognize her. He saw the three black-clad agents coming down the street, and almost went inside. But just before turning, he locked eyes with Abby, those unmistakable grey eyes that went from hard as iron to soft as silver the moment she recognized Hiamovi.
She did not smile, as she usually did, but Hiamovi alone could see that slight change in her eyes, and he fought to keep away the smile his lips so desperately wanted to form. Like Abby, he had a role to play, and with two other agents around this would be a dangerous, impromptu rendezvous.
“Hang on, I think I recognize that kid,” Abby said to her comrades: John, another young agent, and Anthony, an older man who’d been a sergeant in the army.
“Yeah? Think you can handle him, boot?” Anthony asked as he followed Abby’s gaze. He wasn’t a particularly mean sergeant, but he made sure new agents knew the pecking order.
“I got him. Hold here?” Abby replied as she walked off towards Hiamovi. Anthony and John grunted in reply, then took up positions just outside the nearest building, putting their backs to the wall and mean-mugging anyone who came within speaking distance.
“Hey kid!” Abby said in a commanding tone. Hiamovi feigned a look of fear, licking his lips and clasping his hands together.
“I h-h-haven’t done n-nothing,” he stammered.
“Yeah, they never have. I’ve seen you sniveling around our patrols before. Up against the wall, bitch,” Abby said, loud enough for Anthony and John to still hear.
Hiamovi turned and put his hands flat against the brick wall of the building beside him. Abby grabbed him by the back of his collar and kicked his feet apart, prepping him for a pat down. Then she began to whisper.
“The President’s son is in my company,” she said.
“What? That’s huge!” Hiamovi whispered, doing his best to still look afraid.
“Yeah. Here’s the thing though, he was hitting on me the other night. I’ve been thinking, maybe I can lead him on for a few weeks, long enough to learn some really important intel.”
“Wait, what?”
“Just lead him on, that’s it,” Abby replied, and as she continued she slipped a folded up piece of paper containing information about an incoming shipment of food into Hiamovi’s right pocket; she always carried a piece of intel with her while on patrol, just in case she bumped into Hiamovi along the way.
“I’ll play along like his girlfriend, but with some super religious values about relationships. A guy like him will probably get bored after a few weeks of not even getting to first base and end it anyway, but by then hopefully I’ll have learned something good.”
She spun Hiamovi around now, grabbed him by the collar, and shoved his back into the wall, and gestured at him like she was threatening him.
“Oh, I get it,” Hiamovi said. “Yeah, that’s cool, I guess. Just like holdin’ hands and stuff, right?”
“Yeah, of course. Trust me, I won’t let it get any farther than that. I love you, Hiamovi.”
“I love you too, Abby. Just… just be careful. This could be real dangerous.”
“I know. Charlie one-twelve.”
Abby released Hiamovi and walked back to join the other agents. She had spoken in code to Hiamovi there, a code they’d set up at their last meeting. She told him they’d meet at the third place on their list of rendezvous locations on the first Saturday after today and at noon.
“Letting him go?” Anthony asked as Abby rejoined them.
“Yeah, just some kid. This was the third time I’ve seen him on a patrol, so I just told him to leave us the fuck alone if he knows what’s good for him.”
“Very well,” Anthony replied with an approving nod.
Their patrol continued without further incident, manufactured or legitimate, and they were picked up by a large, twin-rotor Chinook helicopter. By the time they returned to their barracks, Abb
y’s squad was off for the day, so she decided to hit the gym. It was leg day for Abby, plus the usual working of the heavy bag afterwards.
Here, and as she’d been hoping, she ran into Derrick again. This time she smiled at him, a gesture he returned.
“Back at it again?” he asked, stepping back from the heavy bag with his hands on his hips.
“At least three times a week,” Abby replied.
“I can tell. Your form is incredible.”
“Hm, well I’m guessing you’re not so bad yourself if you’re in here as much as I am.”
“I’ve been known to dabble in a couple martial arts.”
“Oh yeah? So how ‘bout a date in the octagon?”
“You mean now?”
“Yeah, right now. I mean, you are the new guy so it’s kinda required I put you in your place.”
Derrick chuckled and said, “Okay, sure.”
The two packed their gym gear and left, heading down the street towards a gym that had both a regular boxing ring and a caged octagon. Derrick and Abby made their way towards the latter, after signing waivers and grabbing some sparring gear from a box near the entrance. The octagon was empty for now, so they were able to step right in without waiting.
“You two ready?” the staff referee asked, and Derrick and Abby nodded as they finished putting on head pads and mouth guards.
The referee followed them into the cage, closed the door, then said, “Alright, go ahead.”
Abby immediately took the offensive. She came straight for Derrick with a leaping Superman punch, but missed. She followed with a spinning hammerfist, then a wheel kick as Derrick moved farther back. With swift movement, Abby closed the gap between her and Derrick far quicker than he anticipated and drove a side kick into his chest, slamming him back against the cage.
A flying knee came next, which Derrick just barely managed to block, but it threw him back against the cage again where Abby began to rain punches down on him.
These weren’t knockout punches for Derrick, but the speed and unpredictability was overwhelming him. He finally managed to catch her arms and tried to turn her around but got tangled up.
She swept his leg out and dropped him to the mat, landing on top of him in a half mount. Again surprising Derrick, who had expected her to attempt gaining a full mount position, Abby moved to a side control position and drove a hard knee into Derrick’s exposed right side.
Still in side control, Abby moved quickly up towards Derrick’s shoulders and slipped her left arm under and around his head while pressing his right arm up into her arm pit and trapping it there with her thigh, then grabbed at his left arm with her right.
Not wanting both his arms trapped, Derrick locked his arm down by his side to fight Abby’s grip, but that’s exactly what she wanted.
In a flash, Abby brought her right leg up and across Derrick, planting her foot next to his head and then wrapping it under his head as she pulled her left arm out from under it. She then locked both of her legs together and squeezed as she leaned forward, choking Derrick.
He did not even try to fight back at this point. Derrick had been doing martial arts long enough to know that he was trapped in a textbook triangle choke and he tapped Abby’s thigh, prompting her to let him go. They both sat up, panting and out of breath from their short bout, and both smiling.
“Wow,” Derrick said between shuddering breaths, “I’ve never even seen speed like that.”
“I have to be fast,” Abby replied. “Can’t be as strong as you men, so I gotta be faster.”
Derrick laughed and said, “Well, my pride won’t let me walk out of here without a rematch.”
“Another time. My legs are burning after a foot patrol and leg day.”
That was true enough, but Abby also wanted to make absolutely certain she’d get another ‘date’ with Derrick. He agreed, of course, and they set a plan for Saturday afternoon, since neither of them had plans (well, not any plans after that morning in Abby’s case). They left the gym and walked back to the barracks together, talking as they went.
“So what have you trained in?” Derrick asked Abby.
“I was friends with a Marine once, and he taught me Krav Maga and the Marine Corps Martial Arts System. Another friend taught me Muay Thai and I picked up some kung fu along the way.”
“Color me impressed. And here I thought I was the resident badass for knowing some Brazilian Jui-Jitsu and boxing.”
“It’s all good stuff, honestly. Master those two and you’ll be a match for anybody.”
“That’s not what our sparring session seemed to convey.”
“Hey, you underestimated me, that’s all. Next time could go very differently.”
“Yeah, well I certainly don’t intend on letting you get off on a roll like that next time.”
“You’re welcome to try,” Abby laughed.
The small talk continued until Derrick and Abby returned to their rooms to shower. They bade each other goodbye until next time.
Saturday came, and after a morning workout, breakfast, and a little reading, Abby made her way to District 2, heading towards the sandwich shop that would be her meeting place with Hiamovi. This time, she got there first. She ordered a couple of sandwiches, then chose a seat in the corner which gave her a vantage point on both entrance doors. Hiamovi showed up a few minutes later and sat down with Abby.
“So what’s up?” he asked. “Why are we meeting so soon after the last one?”
“I figured you’d like a little bit more of an explanation on what I told you the other day.”
Hiamovi gave a nervous smile and said, “That would be kinda nice.”
“So look. I’d bumped into this guy, Derrick, a couple times, and each time he seemed to be a little flirty with me. But I just ignored him because who needs him, you know? But then I found out he’s the president’s son!”
Abby paused to take a bite of a sandwich as someone had stopped next to their table for a moment. He looked like he might have been trying to listen, but he was also staring at the newspaper stand a few feet away. He finally moved on and Abby resumed her story.
“I mean, come on. Your granddad has been saying how this mission could be the turning point of the war, right? Well, that’s not gonna happen if all I get for you is patrol routes and the occasional name. But if I’m in with the president’s son, the sky’s the limit! I could meet senators and generals, learn about big plans! Hell, I could… take care of Arthur.”
She added this last part in a voice scarcely louder than her own thoughts but Hiamovi still shushed her.
“Whoa, Abby. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“I know. I’m just saying, think of the possibilities here. If we want to win this thing, this is how we do it!”
“I want to win, of course. But not if it kills you.”
“We’ve been in danger before.”
“Not like this. This is something else entirely. These senators and generals you could meet, they’d be well connected. How long until one of them is familiar with your fake parents?”
Abby shrugged in reply. “We already accepted the danger inherent in this mission. Is taking it one step further really much worse? In for a penny, in for a pound, I say.”
Hiamovi took a deep breath. “Fair point.”
“And look, I know it’s kinda awkward to basically ask you if I can date some other guy.”
“Just kinda awkward?” Hiamovi asked with a chuckle.
“Maybe a lot,” Abby replied, smiling. “But it’s just a cover. It’s not like I’m gonna be putting out. I’ll basically just hang out with him and let him buy me dinner a few times. I’ll hold these really Puritan values on dating and physical contact. I’d be surprised if he sticks around for more than a month. I mean, this guy could get any girl he wanted whenever he wanted.”
“What are you saying, that he’s better looking than me?” Hiamovi teased.
“My God, Hiamovi, the guy looks like Michelangelo chiseled hi
m out of marble,” Abby replied with a mischievous smile, taking her turn to tease.
Hiamovi gave a fake pout and said, “Well, all those sculptures had tiny dicks so have fun with that.”
Then they both laughed. Abby leaned across the table and kissed Hiamovi and said, “I don’t love you because you’re so damn handsome. I love you because you’re you. There’s not a pretty enough face in the world to change that.”
“I know, and I love you too. I’d be lying if I said I’m not bothered at all by the thought of you ‘dating’ this guy. But you’re right. This is a huge opportunity for us.”
“So we’re cool with the plan?”
“Yeah, we’re cool. I’ll let granddad know about this development, he’ll probably do a dance.”
“Have Jay get a video of that,” Abby laughed.
They kissed one more time and then Abby left, though Hiamovi remained behind to finish his sandwich. Abby returned to her barracks room and hung out in there until it came time for her rematch with Derrick.
As she predicted, Abby had a much harder time in this fight than in their first. Derrick knew now that Abby could dart this way and that as quick an angry wasp and letting her control the tempo of a fight was a losing strategy. She was quick, strong, and smart, but Derrick was no slouch. Like Abby, he was in excellent shape and had trained in hand-to-hand combat for years, so it was little surprise that, though Abby got in some good licks, Derrick ended up winning.
After their fight, they again walked back to the barracks together and talked some more.
“I’ll admit, I wouldn’t have thought the president’s son would be such a capable fighter,” Abby said.
“Well, I have to be. I’ve wanted to join the DAS for years now.”
“Why didn’t you join when you turned eighteen then?”
“Dad. He wanted to groom me into a politician like him. The idea of me being a common soldier, as he calls it, horrified him. He made me promise to at least try politicking for a year.”
“And you didn’t like it?”
“Abby, it was the worst,” Derrick said, laughing. “I mentored under the Senate Majority Leader, and I hated every second of it. Draft a bill using the most absurd legalese you can imagine, debate the particulars until you’re literally debating what the meaning of ‘is’ is, and then redraft the bill to add amendments and earmarks. I mean, I respect what my dad does, and someone has to do it, but that is not for me.”
His Name Was Zach (Book 2): Her Name Was Abby Page 30
