Woo Tang spoke up, interrupting their banter. “I was present to observe her willfully confront a menacing enemy. She did so despite my warnings, conscious that her life and the lives of others hung in the balance. After my men were killed in action, she persisted still, seemingly detached from fear.”
Sanchez beheld his shorter cohort, then his leader. “Exactly. Either she was born with it or she developed it somehow because of us and what we taught her, but that girl has the heart of a lion. Right now she fears nothing, and a total absence of fear like that can be a slow route to greatness or a quick one to a grave. You can’t just tell her no, she can’t go home. Not after what she’s been through. Not after almost becoming hell’s next victim. Don’t forget where we found her.”
“Damn it all,” Dave expelled. “Catch fucking twenty-two, same as always. You’re telling me it’s not okay to tell her no, but it isn’t exactly okay to allow her to pack her shit and leave either, Sanchez.”
“Okay, what then? Want to post sentries at her bedroom door?” Sanchez asked. “Treat her like a prisoner? Give the order.”
Dave bit his lip. “No. I can’t do that, either. And I wouldn’t do that to her. But I can’t just allow her to march home on her own along the trail of frozen tears. Too many unknowns that could get her killed—if the weather doesn’t do her in first.”
“Maybe you should go talk to her, bud,” Santa said.
“Yeah, sit down with her and explain it like her father would,” Sanchez agreed. “I know that sounds strange as hell; it feels strange to say it. But in his absence, who does she look up to more than you? I don’t want to see her get hurt, LT. I’d sooner carry her home piggyback before I would let that happen.”
“I find I am in agreement,” Woo Tang said. “It would serve her best interests and that of our own if we intervened.”
“Right,” Dave said, nodding. “Message received, gents. I do very much appreciate the conflab. I’ll do some thinking on this and we’ll go over our overall lack of options tomorrow morning at the breakfast table. Carry on.”
Lazarus stood discreetly yards away from Dave Graham and his men. He’d listened in on their conversation and had heard every word spoken between them while refraining to make known his presence, an auspiciously placed ancient oak having afforded him concealment. As the four men went their separate ways, he jerked himself behind the tree a little further to remain hidden.
Once certain they had all moved far enough away, Lazarus stepped out in to the open. He sucked on his teeth, turned and started back to the comms shack, a contemplative look befalling him. He crossed his arms, sent a hand to his chin, and assumed a thinker’s pose just as two of his men strode to him, interrupting his train of thought.
Lazarus dropped his arms to his sides and studied them. “Well? Are the two of you just going to stand there? Speak.”
The one on the left wearing a wool cap with earflaps was the first to open his mouth, doing so with trepidation in his voice. “It’s…well, worse than we thought.”
“Worse?” probed Lazarus. “How worse?”
“Shit’s gone to hell in a handbasket, sir.”
“It’s bad. Real bad,” the other man said, wiping his nose. “Much more bad than what we thought it would be.”
“Much more bad, huh?” parroted Lazarus. “Exactly how much more bad are we talking? Give me details. I want to know what was said, since I couldn’t be there to hear it myself.”
“I dare say it was the most heated meeting I’ve ever seen,” wool cap said. “Everyone was arguing, and I mean everyone. A couple of fights even broke out…it’s like the entire group’s done gone and fell into a civil war over all this.”
“A civil war?” Lazarus tilted his head. “You’re exaggerating.”
“No, I’m not. Sorry to say.”
Lazarus began to pace. “What about Claudio? Was he there?”
“Oh yeah,” the man on the right said. “He was there.”
“And…did he say anything?”
“Oh, yeah. He said lots of things. Had lots to say, like usual. But mostly, he was just tryin’ to calm folks down and keep order.”
“Did he say anything about me?” Lazarus asked.
“Well, yeah,” wool cap replied. “He said what you did was unwarranted and unprovoked, and a whole bunch of other words I forget. He said he never started nothing and all that coup talk was just rumors. He’s always been fine with being the Sons’ number two in command and never wanted more than that. But he also said after what happened…after what you did, everything’s going to change. Then he started a show-of-hands voting thing…to see who was going to side with who, you or him. Some stayed with you, said they wouldn’t betray your family name. But a bunch of guys went to his side of the room; then even more followed. After that, lots of fellas were saying what you did was inexcusable. And you needed to pay for it.”
Lazarus’s eyes got wide. “What? Me pay for it? Pay for what? I don’t have to pay for anything! I’m the motherfreaking commander-in-chief of the whole damn chapter!”
“Not no more,” the other man said. “Claudio said he’s assumed command, and no one challenged it. He said you’re guilty of a crime…an offense against a brother. And you know what that means.”
Lazarus threw his hands in the air. “Great. That’s just great! Talk about the fuckup of all fuckups. I should’ve just done it myself.”
“Sir? I’m sorry all this has happened, I really am,” wool cap began, taking a good look around. “But this ain’t going to die down anytime soon. And until it does, it’s not going to be safe for you around here.”
“Around here?” Lazarus barked, his eyes alight. “And by ‘around here’ you mean the whole damn state, right? Yeah, trust me…I’m aware.” He let out a long, undulating sigh and paused a moment. “By the looks of things, how many of us would you estimate remain loyal to my family?”
The two men shared a blank stare.
“Maybe about…I don’t know…less than half,” the man on the right said.
“Less than half,” Lazarus uttered in a chuckle.
“To be fair, sir,” wool cap began, “there were quite a few undecideds as well. I don’t think Claudio has much more siding with him than you have siding with you.”
“Great,” Lazarus said, putting his forehead to the tree. He began recalling the discussion he’d only minutes ago overheard between Dave Graham and his men. “I’m working on something…I might be leaving for a while, taking an extended sabbatical. I’ll fill you both in once I’ve finalized my plans.” He turned to face them, choosing to stuff his hair into his hat. “In the meantime, I’m going to be relying on you both to sift through this for me. Find out who’s still loyal and make a list. Then make a list of undecideds and find out their grievances. I want as many men as we can get. Offer them whatever they want, I don’t care what it is. I’ll find a way of getting it to them. I need them to pick our side. If Claudio wants a war, we’ll give him one.”
Wool cap looked concerned. “Sir? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Lazarus laughed. “No! No, I don’t. I think it’s a horrible idea. But, like it or not, this isn’t going to go away on its own. Now, we got to finish it.”
Chapter 10
Loudoun County, Virginia
Sunday, January 2nd. Present day
When Alan awoke, he yawned deeply, rolled onto his back and stretched, and tried willing open his eyes. The room was mostly dark, and only a minute amount of light was peeking through the cracks in the doorway. He hadn’t any idea what time it was, when he’d fallen asleep, or how long he’d been sleeping, but he felt well rested.
A week had elapsed since arriving at Butch’s underground fallback position. Though their original itinerary had involved an earlier departure, circumstances beyond his control had made doing so difficult for him. Alan desired nothing more now than to track down and reconnect with his family. Nothing ranked higher on his list of concerns. But he couldn’t
do it alone, that much was obvious. And though the choice was his own, he simply couldn’t bring himself to leave without those who’d made getting this far possible for him. At odds with himself, he wrestled with the conundrum he’d created, to his wit’s end.
Alan felt rejuvenated for the first time in a long while. In only a day’s time of being here, he’d grasped the need to engage in activity. He had to locate ways of killing time before time found a way of doing him in. When he was idle, errant thoughts of his family’s welfare and whereabouts ate away at him in conjunction with the soreness in his middle-aged muscles. He began a stretching regimen, and those stretches, a day later, turned into calisthenics. He started running, very slowly at first, mostly in vacant, low-lit corridors in the facility’s lower levels, careful that no one was watching him. And he began reading whatever books he could find strewn about the facility.
Nearly all remnants of joint pain and muscle soreness from his on-foot adventure had all but evaporated. Physically, Alan felt like a man again, but his conditioning did nothing for his aching soul.
Today’s schedule, as far as he knew, remained up in the air, and not seeing any point in rising just yet, he decided to snooze a little while longer. A side sleeper, Alan’s ideal resting position was on his left with his arm supporting his head beneath his pillow. He closed his eyes, rolled over and yawned again.
The bed wobbled a bit. Then Alan felt an unusually familiar, sultry warmth brush past his face. His eyes reopened and he learned that he wasn’t alone where he slumbered. An attractive female face, half burrowed in a pillow, was mere inches away from his own.
For reasons unknown to him, Jade was now sound asleep in the same bed, emanating soft purring sounds with each breath. And though Alan knew her, trusted her and cared deeply for her, a feeling of distinct unease began to consume him. He was a married man. He had a wife and a family with whom he was desperately trying to reconnect, and no man should ever be caught dead lying with any woman not his wife, no matter the circumstance. And here he was.
Alarmed and mortified, Alan scooted away and sat up, the suddenness of his movements serving to rouse Jade. She rubbed her eyes, then opened them wide and sent a stare directly into his.
They froze at first sight of one another. Neither said anything at first, not a word.
Alan began feeling around for the bed’s edge, attempting to flee, escape, or dodge whatever the hell was happening, had happened, or whatever he held destined to happen.
Jade came to life and reached for him. “Alan, wait. It’s okay, let me explain.”
“No, I don’t think so. This is far from being okay.” His legs now draped over the edge, Alan sent his focus to the floor below the sleeper sofa that he and Jade had discovered days ago in one of the larger offices within the White Rock facility.
Jade sat up and flipped on a light fixture mounted to the wall. “I know this looks…horrible. But it isn’t. I mean, it’s not as bad as it looks. You didn’t do anything wrong…neither did I, technically. You don’t have to feel bad about this.”
Alan rose to his feet and took several steps from the bed without responding.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere. I just…need to add some distance. That’s all.” Alan rubbed the matter from his eyes. “I remember falling asleep, but what I don’t remember is how the two of us ended up in this fold-out bed together. This…isn’t right.”
Jade nodded. “I realize that, and I’m sorry. Just please…let me explain.”
“Fine. Explain, then.”
“This is awkward for me to admit, so bear with me,” she began, sighing. “I…watched you fall asleep last night. I’ve been doing it every night since we got here. I stand in the hall just outside the doorway when you go to bed and I watch you. Call me a stalker or a creeper if you like, but I can’t help it. I took care of you for months when you were comatose and used to worry myself to fucking death not knowing if you were going to stop breathing or…die on me. So, consequently, watching you sleep and listening to you breathe became a habit. It’s just something I do. And I know it sounds strange.”
Jade ran her fingers through her hair. “I’ve been running on adrenaline for weeks. I crashed hard yesterday. And there’s nowhere to sack out in this place other than a floor covered in festering rat shit. Ken and Walter need the couches they claimed, and there’s zero appeal in the thought of closing my eyes anywhere in Butch’s vicinity. So I’ve been sleeping in the APC all week, and now my back and neck are absolutely killing me. I…just wanted to feel the comfort of a real bed, or something close to one for a change. I knew there was room in here, and you…are without a doubt, a safe bet. And I trust you. I’m sorry, I didn’t think things all the way through. I promise it’ll never happen again.”
Alan glanced over at her with his head low, realizing now that Jade was fully clothed. She hadn’t even bothered to remove her boots. And he was still wearing nearly every article of clothing he’d had on the previous day. “Thank you for telling me that. It makes this little…ordeal seem permissible, in a way.” A pause. “Why haven’t you said anything about your sleeping arrangements…or the lack thereof?”
“I didn’t want to bother you with it,” Jade said. “It’s stupid to complain about, and you have enough on your mind as it is.”
“Well, that may be true, mostly, but tonight we’re finding you a bed to sleep in,” Alan said. “Only, alone and not with me…in this one. I’ll dig around and find something for you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“You’re right, I don’t. But I want to, so let me.”
Jade smiled. “Okay, just this once, then. But don’t fuss over me. I’m a big girl.”
Alan sent a nod along.
“Thank you, by the way. For hearing me out.” Jade threw what remained of the covers off and rose, then pranced to the door. “Back to the Marauder for me.”
“Jade.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m…sorry.”
She rested her head against the doorjamb. “For?”
“For…getting the wrong idea,” Alan said. “And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable now around me…because of this.”
Tiredness evident in her eyes, Jade smiled at him. “You’re a good man, Alan Russell. Far too good for someone like me. And don’t worry about me, worry about you. Get some more rest if you can. I’ll see you in a little while for coffee, assuming Butch has more stored somewhere in this dump.”
Weary of beating each other at video games and bored to death with almost everything else, hellhounds Ken and Walter were in urgent need of entertainment. Not long after taking their first sips of Butch’s acrid-as-hell instant coffee and griping about the taste, the pair had gone on a grand tour of the complex and wound up finding more than they’d bargained for.
Customarily under stringent lock and key, the former troposcatter relay site turned datacenter turned federal continuity-of-operations facility’s armory was jam-packed with NATO small arms. A variety of automatic rifles and carbines, pistols, shotguns and machine guns, all pristine, were neatly organized within. Uncertain if they were dreaming or dead, they took turns pinching each other for validation, then acted out like two kids in a candy store with a blank check.
What little self-control they held cast aside, Ken and Walter helped themselves to a grandiose share of the arsenal, ogling each weapon with a peculiar bloodlust branded only to them.
And much to Butch’s chagrin, after having amassed them, they’d relocated their spoils to the main bay for inspection, proper cleaning and care, and to render affection.
“Hey, ground pounder,” Walter called to Butch. “I hate bein’ one of ’em folks, err, rather, guests I s’pose I should say, who’s forever askin’ fer stuff.” He held aloft a midnight black Heckler and Koch M27 IAR, or infantry automatic rifle. “But would you mind terribly if I borrowed one of these? It’s been an año or two since I held one of ’em, and by golly, I missed it.�
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A perturbed Butch shook his head without bothering to look up. “Depends. How long do you plan to hold on to it?”
“What’s that?”
“You said borrow,” grumbled Butch. “The term implies intent to return the merchandise.”
Walter turned to face Ken. “Why does he always feel the need to git so dang technical?”
“It is his house, Walt,” Ken said, shrugging, “and it’s his stuff, kind of. I think that might give him the right.”
“I claimed it. And that makes it and everything within mine, no kind ofs about it,” Butch retorted.
Ken grinned. “See?”
“And while we’re on the subject of that which is mine, I don’t recall either of you soliciting permission to pull a whole hog Grenada on my armory, never mind lug all that usurped hardware up here.”
“Anythin’s better than leavin’ ’em neglected,” Walter spat.
“Come again?”
“I said there ain’t no sense in leavin’ all this here exquisite standard-issue hardware in the nasty cold an’ pitch dark by its lonesome,” Walter quipped. “It’s reckless endangerment and it makes me sick. Weapons like these ones deserve better, you gotta keep ’em warm, clean and happy…let ’em know they’re loved.” He presented the M27 once more. “Look here, Butch. Take a gander at this rifle.”
The man in camo didn’t move a muscle.
“Butch! You fuckin’ lanky tenderfoot! Don’t you ignore me! I said lookit this here rifle!”
“Keep that shit up, gyrene, and your tender ass will rendezvous with my size eleven not-so-tender foot.” Butch sent the rifle in question a reluctant stare and sighed. “What about it?”
“I’ll tell you what about it—it’s smilin’ now, but ’twernt before. ’Cause e’rbody done forgot about it,” Walter began. “This here rifle is mint, ain’t once been fed or shot, same as most of these other ones. And that is one supreme abomination in demand of a generous unfuckin’ on the double, compadre.”
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