by Laura Acton
Mason snorted his beer through his nose, spraying Blondie by accident. He grabbed a napkin and started wiping the kid’s face as Blondie swatted his hands away wanting to take care of it himself.
Shaking his head, and separating from Blaze, Winds joked, “Ah, Mason is so solicitous of his date. You okay, Sunshine?”
Enjoying the fun, Jim clinked bottles with Winds. “Guess I’m stag tonight. Heather will appreciate that.”
Several tables over, an auburn-haired man observed the group of five fascinating men. Unable to overhear their conversation with the loud music thumping out a steady beat, one his foot tapped along with, he assessed the fresh additions to the nightclub. Under the auspices of business travel, he made the trip from Cold Lake to Edmonton routinely every few weeks for the past six years, so as frequent patron, he could spot the new people.
They typically fell into four categories. Tourists who didn’t realize this was a gay bar. Straight guys or gals coming in on a dare or with a regular. Idiots who came to gawk at or taunt people who they believed were abhorrent because they were attracted to the same sex. And lastly, those, who like him, wanted to congregate with people who accepted him for who he was, who enjoyed a place where they could be themselves without fear of judgment or chastisement.
He decided the jovial men came for that reason. The easy comradery and body language played a substantial role in his choice. There appeared to be two couples. The enormous guy doted on the happy blond, and the raven-haired man seemed quite possessive in the way he clasped the neck of the man beside him. A familiar voice close to his ear pulled his eyes away.
“Hey, Denny. Glad you’re here, been missing you.” Cale Bolton bent down and kissed his long-distance boyfriend.
After returning the kiss, he moved his jacket off the seat he had been saving for Cale. “Same here. Sorry, my nephew’s first birthday was last week. I couldn’t sneak away. No one would believe I would put work before family.”
Cale sat and took a drink of Denny’s cocktail. “No problem. I understand.” At Denny’s expression, he said, “I do. Not all families are as accepting as mine. I’m okay with being your secret lover. Adds spark.”
Touched by Cale’s sweet words, Denny gave his lover another quick peck. He lucked out when he met Cale five years ago. It took them two years to recognize they possessed a connection and another year to act upon it, but the last two had been marvelous, except for only being able to see each other when he could swing travel without raising his father’s suspicions.
As it was, his brothers hounded him on when he would find the right woman and marry. They would be shocked to discover he found his soulmate, but she was a he. His father would likely disown him—his autocratic dad had a history of doing so. Denny didn’t think he was strong enough to withstand losing everyone he loved. So he continued to hide his true self from them.
“Denny, never seen them before. We got newbies. Think they are anyone we need to be worried about?”
“Nah, think there are two couples and a stag. The black-haired guy and the handsome one with amber eyes seem to be together. The dude sitting across from them appears to be alone. The giant, fierce one I wouldn’t want to tangle with. He stays real close to the striking blond, but I doubt anyone would encroach on his mate, he could snap someone in half without trying.”
When the golden-blond head turned, Cale stared, and his jaw dropped. Although older he would never forget the face and those eyes. He smiled and chuckled. “Oh boy, um, you’re wrong about the blond. Come on. I want to introduce you to someone I haven’t seen in over ten years.” Cale grabbed Denny’s hand and dragged him along.
Coming to a halt, Cale waited until their conversation stopped and all eyes turned to him and Denny. Grinning, he spoke, “Hi, Dan. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I never forgot what you did for Kipper and us.”
Recognition slowly dawned on Dan. “Cale?”
“Yeah. Been a long time. This is my partner, Alden.” Cale realized his mistake, using Denny’s real name, and corrected, “Denny, this is the man I told you about. The one who took out the gay-bashing thugs who plagued this place after they almost killed his buddy. The guy who got justice for Kipper.”
Alden Taggart nodded recalling Cale telling him about Kipper. Cale’s first boyfriend who became reclusive and committed suicide after being beaten badly one night after leaving Woody’s.
Dan made the introductions. “Cale, these are my friends, Blaze, Winds, Mason, and Jim.”
“Mind if we join you?” Cale asked.
Mason eyed them as did Winds, Jim, and Blaze, waiting for Blondie to respond, all wanting to hear this story.
“Sure,” Dan said and scooted his stool closer to Mason to create space as Blaze did the same, shifting towards Winds.
Once settled, Cale inquired, “So what brings you back here?” His eyes flicked to the ones named Blaze and Winds and grinned. “Are you showing your buddies a safe place to hang out and be themselves?” He added, “You two make a cute couple.” Then to the other two, he said, “We can find dates for you here. We know a bunch of fabulous dudes.”
Dan busted out laughing. When he caught their astonished faces, especially Blaze’s he chortled louder, and so hard his sides hurt.
While Blondie continued to laugh his ass off, Blaze clarified, “We’re not a couple. Only friends.”
Cale put a possessive arm around Denny, though younger than his partner by four years, he was the bolder of the two, and more comfortable in his skin. He hoped one day Denny would tell his family the truth, but he would stand by his mate even if Alden never communicated their relationship to the stiff-necked General Taggart. “We started as friends. Who knows what might develop in the future for you guys.”
Jim lifted his hand showing his wedding band, attempting to explain, “Not looking for anyone. I got married on the first.” He took a sip of beer.
“Fantastic. Where is he?” Cale glanced around, happy for the man.
“She. My wife, Heather is at home in Toronto,” Jim stammered out after nearly choking on his drink. “We’re all straight.”
Mason’s face took on a broad dopey grin. “I’m not so sure about that. Winds did kiss that dude several years ago.” Mason chortled as Winds shot him a death glare.
Dan’s laughter renewed, he could scarcely catch his breath.
Alden studied the men pondering how he read them so wrong. “Not gay?”
Getting ahold of his hysterics, Dan shook his head. “Not a one. Sorry, I needed a laugh.”
Jim beamed as he eyed Dan. “Yeah, we all did after today.”
Blaze queried, “Blondie, what did he mean by you taking out some thugs?”
Sobering as the recollection came to the forefront of his mind, Dan summarized his and Brody’s experience when they ended up here shortly after arriving at CFB Edmonton when they were MPs. When he finished, he turned to Cale. “I still have the t-shirt you gave me.”
“What about Brody?”
Dan sucked in a breath. “Brody died.”
Cale’s face fell, shocked by the sad news. He started to open his mouth to ask how but was cut off by the handsome man with black hair.
Blaze stepped in and took over the conversation, directing Cale away from asking about Brody’s death. Soon they were all engaged in a friendly rivalry over which hockey team would win the Stanley Cup this year. Three hours later they bid goodnight to Denny and Cale then headed back to base.
CFB Edmonton – Quarters – 2315 Hours
Dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt after showering, Dan rapped on his father’s door when he noted the light along the bottom edge indicating the general returned.
William opened the door. “Daniel?”
Holding out a bottle of water, Dan asked, “Everything alright?”
Accepting the water but wanting coffee, William swung the portal open wider and waved Daniel inside, then shut his door and moved to the bed, sinking down on the mattress as he sighed.
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br /> Worried, Dan moved closer. “Dad?”
His eyes finally meeting Daniel’s, he said, “I spoke with Gambrill so he would inform your team. I had to pull Hammer’s unit off protection detail. We have a situation they must handle. With Blaze and Mason needing to be here, I can’t send their units out. Hammer’s my only option.”
Dan nodded as his gut twisted at the news, his mind immediately conjuring up an image of Lexa, but witnessing the fatigue and concern on his dad’s face, he strove to relieve some of his burdens. “I understand. Alpha Team will watch out for one another. They installed security systems. Also, with the measures put in place, the likelihood of Plouffe transmitting outside Club Ed is slim.”
William opened the bottle and took a long drink. “Walter’s suggestion to put double guards on him and alter the shifts should help prevent Plouffe from collaborating with a guard. And if not stop, possibly identify if any of them are helping the major.” After he took another gulp, he shifted subjects. “Did you and the others have fun tonight?”
“Yeah,” Dan pulled out the desk chair and sat. Dad can use some cheering up. He spent the next ten minutes regaling him with how he pranked the guys. Hearing his dad laugh, if only a little, pleased him.
When a series of yawns started by William overtook both of them, Dan rose, and put the chair back. “Night, Dad.”
“Night, Son. Would you turn out the light for me on your way out?” When Daniel did, William finished the water and lay on the bunk without bothering to change, falling asleep in moments.
A Fool for a Client
32
January 26
Club Ed – Secure Room Near Courtroom – 0730 Hours
Plouffe stewed all night, his anger on a slow boil, hardly sleeping as he plotted his revenge and all the ways he wanted to hurt the Brodericks. My lawyer is an incompetent weasel. Even I could’ve done better at cross-examining. Ruellan didn’t lay into Broderick, treated him with kid gloves when they didn’t show the picture of the unknown terrorist.
Nigel assumed the sketch was of the man who Pletcher said tortured Broderick with the needles. I would’ve loved to observe my toy soldier’s reaction to the man’s face. He undoubtedly would’ve blubbered like a baby based on Pletcher’s description of how Broderick reacted to Qasim. Perhaps I can find a way for Ruellan to call him back to the stand and ask about the torture. No, my stupid barrister won’t comply, he’s an imbecile.
Pacing in his tiny waiting room, Plouffe glared at one of the two damned guards with him. Since returning to his cell yesterday, he was never alone. Due to the annoying presence of his second shadow, when Nicholls came on duty early this morning, he had no opportunity to ask him for status on Tapia or if he arranged things per his previous plan.
As his anger escalated, the grip on his paper coffee cup increased, causing a bit of the hot liquid to splash on his hand. His devious mind conjured up another idea. Turning away from the guards, he smiled. That might work. Yeah, perfect.
Squeezing harder, crushing the container entirely, Plouffe yelled, “Ow!” as he whipped around dropping the ruined cup to the tile floor. “Help. I need help. The damned coffee burnt my hand.”
Navarro rolled his eyes at the whining major. “Nicholls, you keep an eye on him. I’ll retrieve the first aid kit.”
“Yeah, sure.”
As soon as the door shut, Nigel quit whining and strode to Nicholls, his eyes deadly serious. “Did you follow through?”
“Yes.”
“Any word from Tapia?”
“No, still no contact.” Nicholls motioned to a chair, “Better sit down and make it appear I’m checking your hand. Navarro will be back any second.”
“Damn Tapia probably took my money and ran.” Plouffe plopped down and held out his limb.
“You mean my money. You still owe me,” Nicholls groused.
“Yeah, yeah. Once I’m out of here, you’ll be reimbursed and paid what I promised you,” Plouffe lied.
Navarro entered with the kit and set about tending to the major’s scalded left hand. I’ll be glad when this court martial ends, and he is transferred to a federal facility for life. The whiny pain in the ass traitor can be someone else’s problem.
Outside Club Ed – 0750 Hours
“Watch your back, and Heather’s too,” Dan said as Jim started to close the sedan’s door.
“Will do. I’ll be installing a security system today. Might call Loki for help. You guys take care of Dan.”
Blaze nodded. “Always.” He shut the door, cutting off any additional conversation because they needed to be inside and Jim must catch the plane. After learning Hammer’s unit had been called off, Jim’s worry for his wife skyrocketed. They all agreed his place was with Heather, and the general hastily arranged a flight home for Jim this morning.
Putting his arm around Blondie’s shoulders, Mason turned them towards the building. “Come on, Sunshine. Time to go inside.”
Dan drew in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He still couldn’t believe he chose to attend the rest of the trial, but he now comprehended the burden of guilt his father bore and decided to stay to offer moral support.
The two of them would stand together, as father and son, against Plouffe and ensure the bastard received a fitting end for all his treasonous and despicable deeds. Though a part of him wanted Plouffe to meet the same fate as Murphy, Dan realized confinement for the remainder of Plouffe’s sorry life would be more punishment for a man like the major than a quick death. His grandiose vision of being a general would never be fulfilled, and he would live knowing he failed in all he endeavored.
Floating next to Danny, a bit of Black Brody came out as he whispered, “I want the twisted, evil, bastard dead! His blackened soul deserves to be in Hell.”
Club Ed – Courtroom – 0800 Hours
Once everyone sat after Bellerose assumed his position, Leroux stood, ready to call his first witness of the day, but an interruption halted him before he could utter a word.
Plouffe stood. “Your Honour, I find my attorney to be inept. I request a continuance until a new legal representative can be arranged.”
Ruellan’s jaw dropped as he turned his head to stare at Plouffe. He never wanted to defend this man, but it was his job, and he performed it suitably.
“I find no cause to dismiss Lieutenant Ruellan,” Bellerose stated.
His ploy to stop things until he could figure out another plan appeared to crumble. Damned judge! Blood beginning to boil again, Plouffe ground out, “He failed to cross-examine the witnesses and uncover the lies they are spewing. Hell, I can do better than this wet behind the ears cripple!”
“Major Plouffe, another disrespectful outburst like that and I will find you in contempt.” Bellerose eyed him sternly.
Shifting gears as he rapidly developed another new plan, Plouffe said, “If you don’t dismiss him I will. His services are no longer required. I’ll represent myself. I have the right.”
A surge of relief shot through Ruellan making him a little giddy, and Lazarus worked hard to suppress the smile which desired to break out on his face as he waited for the magistrate’s response.
Dan turned surprised eyes to his dad.
Whispering, William said, “His funeral.”
Bellerose could not believe the stupidity of the major. Representing oneself when facing charges of treason, multiple counts of attempted murder, among many others is foolhardy and ludicrous. Some would claim insane. Though Plouffe is correct, if he wants to act as his own legal counsel, he may. “Are you certain you want to represent yourself?”
“Yes!” Plouffe glared at Ruellan. “Clear out, wimpy gimp!”
“Major Plouffe, I warned you. You are in contempt and fined one thousand dollars for your disrespectful remark. The next one will be double,” Bellerose declared.
To the defense attorney, Bellerose said, “The court appreciates your services, Lieutenant Ruellan. You are dismissed and free to go. I will remind you, that you
are still under obligation not to discuss any portion of these proceedings with anyone.”
Ruellan grabbed his cane, pushed himself up, and steadied on his natural leg before saying, “Thank you, Your Honour. I will leave my notes for Major Plouffe. He might find them useful in making his case.” He turned, squared his shoulder, held his head high, and grinned as he exited the room.
“Commander Leroux, you may now call your next witness,” Bellerose instructed.
The next four hours of testimony put the case against Plouffe in somewhat of a gray area in the minds of the panel. Plouffe relentlessly pursued his defense, aggressively cross-examining all witnesses, close to contempt, but just shy of being fined a second time.
A handwriting expert testified regarding the forged signatures on many of the order documents. He made a case which showed the difference between General Broderick’s real autograph and the fake ones. However, Plouffe successfully pointed out that there was no proof he was the one to forge them. He began laying out his theory for this being a massive conspiracy planned by William Broderick with the assistance of his long-time friend Thomas Sutton to railroad him out of the military.
Ishaaq Derawal, a crime scene investigative team lead, provided details about Dan’s missing mail, the death of the thief Jheeta, the mail and profile notebook uncovered during the search of Plouffe’s secret room, and the sheet with account numbers found in Plouffe’s Grand Citadel hotel room.
All quite damaging, but Plouffe continued with his insinuations of collusion suggesting the materials could’ve been planted by the general or his friends at any time since Plouffe had been locked in Club Ed. Under harsh exam, Derawal conceded someone might have placed items for his team to find.
Not willing to lose the damning evidence seized from Plouffe’s home, Leroux countered by recalling his writing specialist. Re-sworn the graphologist took the stand and positively identified the writing as Plouffe’s. Comparisons of the major’s scribble and recovered items were displayed for the tribunal panel, showing Plouffe was, without a doubt, the author of the notebook. All witnessed the heated glare Plouffe shot the specialist as he left the room.
