Special Forces 01

by Honor Raconteur

  Aaron stared at her blankly, at a loss for words. “No, ma’am. No one will be expecting me anytime soon.”

  Rys had to fight to keep his face straight. Aaron obviously wasn’t in a family that kept close tabs on him. If he had Sara or Jeremy as foster parents, he wouldn’t have been taken by surprise with Martha’s question.

  Aaron ingested a quick crash course on the fine art of painting a house, and then they went back to applying white paint on wooden siding. The job was going much faster with an extra set of hands in the mix. Observing this, Rys decided that his entire team could benefit from learning how to paint a house, as well.

  For their own edification, naturally!

  He sent them a short email, inviting them to come if they could, and warning them to wear grubby clothes. He didn’t tell them what they were doing, he liked surprises.

  Service projects were good for the soul.

  Rys had just gotten back up on the ladder, narrowly avoiding a well-aimed swipe from Aaron’s paintbrush, when he heard another car pull up in front of the house. He glanced over his shoulder to see who it was, and then froze when he recognized her. “Anne?” He considered Aaron out of the corner of his eye, calculating the force necessary to land squarely on him, if he made an unfortunate move in her direction.

  She climbed out or her car and stood up, her head easily visible over the roof of the sedan. “Rys,” she called out with some asperity, “what are you doing?”

  “That would be painting a house.”

  She came around her car with quick strides. “I can see that. But I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy for a while.”

  “I’m fine,” he assured her. “What brings you here?”

  “I was just checking in on you, to see how you were doing. I figured Mrs. Bloch would be at her wit’s end by now trying to keep you under wraps.” Anne stepped forward and put both hands on the ladder. “It looks like I was dead on target. Does she have any idea that you’re out here doing this?”

  Rys just shrugged, a little sheepishly.

  “Why am I not surprised?” Anne looked heavenward, as if praying for patience.

  Aaron jabbed a finger into Rys’s leg. “I would be most grateful for a proper introduction.”

  Rys frowned down at him, but didn’t see any graceful way of avoiding it. If he said no, Aaron would just introduce himself, making Anne all the more curious. “Aaron, this is my friend Anne Dorian. Anne, Aaron Jeconiah.”

  Anne held out a hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Aaron.”

  He accepted the handshake with a charming smile, meant for both of them. “Same here, ma’am.”

  Anne gave him a thoughtful look. “Yet another one, do you grow on trees? Let me employ my special powers of intuition and observation. You’re in the Special Forces too.”

  Aaron blinked at her, clearly startled that she knew he was Special Forces. “How did you know that?”

  “It’s the ‘ma’am’ that gave you away,” she confided. “Rys still slips up every now and again and ‘ma’am’s’ me. I take it for a sign that Special Forces are in the area.”

  Rys waved a hand to Martha, who was avidly absorbing every word of this enthralling conversation. “And this is my neighbor, Martha Blevins.”

  The two women shook hands, Martha clearly speculating on Anne’s relationship with Rys.

  “Well, are you having fun?” Anne inquired wryly.

  “Oh loads,” Aaron assured her with a cheerful nod. “You should join us, I am sure Martha has another paintbrush around here somewhere. She strikes me as someone who is always prepared.”

  “Or you might just like to stay for a while,” Rys added, with a hopeful tone in his voice. “My team will be here shortly, and I’d like for you to meet them.”

  Anne looked intrigued by this idea. Rys had related a few stories about his three lieutenants, and he knew that she wanted to meet them. “Erksome, Snails and Gremlin, you mean? Oh, I can’t pass up an opportunity like that one. Hand me a paintbrush, I’m in.”

  Martha just handed her own paintbrush over to Anne before heading back toward the garage to hunt up another one.

  “Hey Rys,’’ Aaron called on the open radio channel.

  Yeah?

  “How much does Anne know, anyway? You seem to have told her a lot. She’s even implied that she knows about the eye.”

  She knows more than most civilians. She’s Vice-Minister Dorian’s daughter, so she has a Secret clearance.

  Aaron let out a low whistle.

  I haven’t told her about the chip yet. When my eye was busted, she was there and helped me get to Doc. Just going through that much gave her a lot to think about. I didn’t want to overwhelm her by unloading everything on her all at once.

  “Probably a good call. And may I say that she’s really hot?”

  You may, and I completely agree with you.

  “Good, otherwise I’d have to nominate your another psyche evaluation, or a recalibration on your eye. Does she have a sister?”

  I am told that she does but I haven’t met her yet...

  “If she’s as pretty as Anne, I will be requiring another introduction.”

  Rys bit down on his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Duly noted.

  They cut the connection there, not wanting to be caught communicating with each other without speaking out loud.

  It was no more than fifteen minutes later when a motorcycle pulled up to the curb. Rys recognized the form climbing off the bike instantly and waved. “Hey, Gremlin!”

  “Hey!” Gremlin called back. Rys mentally awarded his lieutenant points for not saying either captain or sir in front of civilians. “What by the Guardians have you gotten yourselves into?”

  “Painting a house,” Rys responded with mock enthusiasm. “And you are going to assist us in this noble endeavor.”

  Gremlin froze. “Oh now, that’s low. You sent me an email just for that? I am going to have to install a better filter to screen all of this junk mail.”

  “Every man needs to know how to paint a house,” Rys pointed out righteously. “And this poor widow requires help, and we are going to provide some. Hop to it, Gremlin!”

  Gremlin knew an order when he heard it and gave his captain a sour look. “Yes, sir. Bunny hopping to it, sir!”

  “So this is the infamous Gremlin, is it?” Anne had an odd speculative look on her face.

  Rys climbed back down the ladder so that he could introduce them. “Gremlin, this is my friend Anne Dorian. Anne, Bran Gremillion.”

  Gremlin was wearing the same expression of masculine approval that Aaron was. He held out a hand. “Pleasure, ma’am.”

  “I’m very glad to meet you as well,” Anne assured him while returning his firm handshake. “Though I’m a little confused about the nickname.” She gave Rys a questioning look. “I thought you called him Gremlin because he was ugly or sat on the edges of buildings. That certainly isn’t the case, so how did his nickname evolve?”

  Gremlin noticeably brightened and stood a little taller at her sideways compliment.

  “It’s because of his frightening skills with a computer,” Rys explained. “This man is pure monster, through and through, when it comes to computers. They bow to his will, whether they want to or not. It is no contest, he always wins.”

  “I see,” she intoned with an enlightened nod. “I’ll keep him in mind the next time my laptop tries to take advantage of me and crashes for no good reason. Would it be alright if I call you Gremlin too?”

  “Ma’am, you can call me whatever you wish,” Gremlin responded expansively, with a courtly bow.

  “Gremlin it is, then. Just stop 'ma’am-ing' me, okay?” Her lopsided smile softened the rebuke. This woman had enough charisma firepower to charm a drill sergeant out of latrine duty. “My name is Anne.”

  “Anne,” he repeated obediently, a goofy grin on his face.

  “Good. Now come give us a hand with the painting.”

  Martha had given up r
etrieving one paintbrush at a time, and brought out a whole boxful of them. Gremlin selected one, received some brief instructions on the art of the brush, and jumped in. Rys pulled rank and made him man the ladder, so he could remain on the ground, more strategically located near Anne.

  “Hey Captain?”

  Yes, Gremlin.

  “I really like your friend.”

  Rys shot him a worried glance. Gremlin didn’t like many people—he preferred computers. When he did say he liked someone, he really meant it. Just remember, I found her first. I’m just being generous and sharing her company, for the present.

  Gremlin snickered, a wicked glint in his eyes.

  Rys had seen that same look in Gremlin’s eyes when he was looking over a restricted classification on a file he wanted. He was all set to ease his lieutenant back into line when something sloppy and wet assaulted the back of his head with a sound splat. He didn’t have to wonder what it was, he already knew.

  Slowly he turned to face Aaron, flexing his free hand, preparing for battle. “You just had to do it, didn’t you?”

  Aaron let out a sinister chuckle. “Forewarned is forearmed, my friend.”

  Anne, smart woman that she was, quickly recognized the calm before a storm, as she was quick to move out of the line of fire. Rys held off exactly long enough to make sure all of the non-combatants were clear, and then he let fly.

  Aaron ducked, but Rys had anticipated that maneuver. His glob of paint was still airborne when he spun on his feet, dropping into a low crouch and swept the pins out from under his brother captain. The paint landed squarely on Aaron’s upturned face, with a very satisfying splat of its own. Rys hand was automatically up to protect his right eye. Doc would kill him if he managed to get paint on the eye after only having it in for three days.

  A lightening secondary attack hit, grazing Aaron along his rib cage, leaving a neat wide stripe of white against his blue shirt. Aaron let out a yelp of disgust as he executed a sideways flip, landing him temporarily out of range.

  “Rys!” he called out, with irritation bleeding through. “This is my favorite shirt!”

  “Collateral damage is unavoidable,” Rys responded with absolutely no sympathy.

  “Just no friendly fire, okay?” Gremlin pleaded from his lofty perch on the ladder.

  Martha was laughing from her safe vantage point on the sidelines. “That is the funniest thing I have seen in ages, watching you boys is better than watching movies! But you’ll have to declare a truce; I can’t have you be wasting my paint, it’s too expensive.”

  “You heard the boss, Rys,” Aaron pointed an accusing finger at him. “We have to play nice.”

  Rys gave him a meaningful glare for that statement. Aaron would be wise to sleep with one eye open.

  “Arystair?”

  “Here, Sara!” Rys called back. He came around the house far enough so he could see the front porch of the Bloch house.

  “Oh, there you are.” She looked him over with obvious amusement. “Why do you have paint in your hair?”

  “Because my friend has a death wish,” Rys answered evenly. Aaron started laughing out loud behind him, not able to hold it back any longer.

  Sara shook her head, used to teenage pranks. “Not quite what I was getting at. What are you painting, besides each other?”

  “He’s helping me, Sara,” Martha responded in a pleased manner. “And his three friends, as well. This old house has been needing a good coat of paint.”

  “Oh.” Sara gave Rys a proud smile. “Good for you, Arystair. I think that’s wonderful to give Martha a hand. Let me get Brandon out here to help you too. He’s just sitting in his room playing video games anyway.”

  Rys flinched at that notion. Brandon would not be pleasant to work with, especially if his mother made him come out here to help them. “That’s not really necessary, Sara. I have two more friends coming over shortly to help out. We won’t have enough paint, or work, to go around for three more people.”

  Sara wasn’t fooled by this reasonable sounding response. “Rys, I know you two don’t get along, but I think you’re a good role model for him. He needs to learn how to help other people, and stop being so self-centered. I am going to go call him.” She went back inside with a determined look on her face.

  Rys just groaned inwardly. Part of the problem with Brandon is that both of his parents wanted him to be more like Rys. They never say that directly, but the implication is certainly there. It’s not making things any smoother between us.

  Aaron drifted up to stand beside him. “I thought you said everything was fine?”

  “Brandon is the sole exception,” Rys admitted reluctantly. “He hated me on first sight.”

  “Any idea why?”

  “It’s a little complicated.” And Rys didn’t feel it was right to talk about someone behind their back. “When you meet him, I’ll let you form your own conclusions.”

  “Nothing complicated about it,” Martha declared with a grim shake of the head. She looked up from the house, meeting Aaron’s eyes. “Brandon is the most lazy, self-centered kid I ever saw. His parents can’t do anything with him. Being compared to Arystair just makes him look worse, and he really resents it.”

  That’s a pretty accurate summary of the situation. Rys was just as glad he was outside, where he couldn’t hear Brandon arguing with his mother about coming outside to help paint. That was one conflict he was happy to avoid.

  They went back to painting, although everyone seemed to keep stealing uneasy glances toward the Bloch house.

  In an effort to regain the easy banter that had existed a moment before, Rys cleared his throat and said, “So, Anne, have I missed anything important at school?”

  “Not really,” she answered casually. “Not that it would matter much either way. I believe you have the textbooks memorized by now, so a pop quiz wouldn’t hold any horror for you.”

  He did in fact have his textbooks memorized. They were little more than props, for the casual observer, and a way to get a little honest exercise carrying them around all day.

  His face must have conveyed something along those lines, because she nodded, and sighed. “I thought as much. Coach Denman did ask about you. I told him it wasn’t anything too serious, and you should be back in school soon. Oh, and the girl that lost control of the racket—Katie—asked me to pass along her apologies. She feels terrible.”

  Rys shrugged this off. “I’m almost glad it happened, I got a sweet new up-grade.”

  “Coach Denman posted the finalized schedule for the rest of the semester. He said we’ll finish tennis this week, then go to soccer for three weeks. The last thing on the schedule will be swimming.”

  Swimming? Rys froze. “Swimming, as in total immersion in a large area of water?”

  “Yes, water, what else?” Anne’s amusement faded when she realized he was staring at her in horror. “Rys, you do know how to swim, don’t you?”

  He shook his head rapidly from side to side, like he was trying to make the idea go away.

  “Are you serious?” she demanded incredulously. “But I thought that was a basic part of training for all members of the military!”

  “Anne, we didn’t have standing bodies of water on Fourth,” he explained hollowly. “The closest dealings we have with water is that it comes out of a shower head, or we drink it out of a plastic bottle. There wasn’t any reason to teach us to swim, and absolutely no way to learn anyhow.”

  “Oh my gosh, I never ever thought about a place without standing water! We spend at least four weeks in the pool every school year.” Her paintbrush paused in mid-stroke, and her forehead wrinkled in thought. “Well, this just won’t do. I have a pool in my backyard. Would you be willing to let me teach you how to swim? That way it won’t be a problem when it comes up in gym.”

  Rys brightened perceptibly at this. “Would you do that for us?”

  “Of course, I would be happy to teach all of you. It will be less traumatic than someone
just tossing you guys into the deep end. I am surprised that no one on the transition team has thought about that. I am going to mention it to my father; this is a gaping oversight!”

  “We’d really, really appreciate that,” Gremlin assured her with transparent sincerity. “When can we come over?”

  “Would this Saturday work for you?” Anne offered. “I don’t have anything scheduled then.”

  “We’ll be there,” Rys promised her, glad they missed what could have been a very large bullet. Swimming! He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like, but he was proficient in zero gravity aboard ship.

  Sara slammed back out of the front door, red in the face and looking irate enough to kill something. “I’m sorry,” she didn’t exactly sound apologetic. “I can’t get Brandon out here, he won’t budge.”

  Rys hadn’t expected that he would show up without an armed escort. “It’s okay. Like I said, I think we’ll have plenty of help.”

  Sara’s mouth flattened into a tight line, clearly embarrassed by her son’s refusal. “I wish he were more like you. Just wait until his father gets home.” Shaking her head, she disappeared back into the house.

  “Oh yeah,” Aaron muttered under his breath. “I definitely see the problem. Rys let me know if you ever need backup; it sounds like someone needs a serious attitude adjustment.”

  He gave him a concerned look. “Do you think it will come to that?”

  “I wouldn’t bet against it.” Aaron looked grim. “Watch your back, bro.”

  “I second that, sir,” Gremlin added softly.

  Rys nodded gravely, accepting both of their warnings. He wished that he didn’t share their concerns, for Jeremy’s and Sara’s sake at least. If Brandon ever did try to move against Rys, it would wound his parents to the core. He didn’t want to be the one who would have to administer such an adjustment.

  He shook his head, refusing to let Brandon rain on his parade. “So Anne, about these swimming lessons…”

  Chapter Eight