Hold On! - Season 1

by Peter Darley

  Their gazes lingered upon one another for a prolonged moment, neither of them daring to make the first move.

  Awkwardly, he cut the moment short and reached for the bottle of chardonnay beside his feet. “Would you like some more wine?”

  ***

  “Come in.”

  Upon hearing the cold invitation, Agent Martyn McKay entered the spacious, opulent office—the domain of his new commander. The aroma of stale cigars was instantly recognizable.

  At thirty years of age, McKay, a relatively new recruit to Homeland Security, had difficulty containing his apprehension. Having been assigned to Capitol Hill for over a month, the presence of his superior, Senator Garrison Treadwell, still caused him some angst.

  Attired in a dark blue suit, Treadwell wore a full head of thick silver hair like a narcissistic crown.

  McKay considered the circumstances under which he’d been assigned to his position, and it didn’t sit well with him. Treadwell’s previous assistant had died of a brain aneurysm. McKay had been assigned to him as a matter of urgency. He’d known from the beginning Treadwell didn’t appreciate his presence. The senator preferred to make his own selections, but was, perhaps wary of making too much of an issue with the intelligence community. The current situation they were dealing with was particularly delicate. As such, McKay felt nothing more than tolerated.

  Treadwell looked up from his desk. “Well?”

  The agent swallowed hard. “We’ve had a report from the Denver Police Department, sir. There was a sighting of the Turbo Swan after the attack on Carringby Industries last night.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes, sir. The police recovered a mark-four spider cable and an abandoned EG-9 wire-glider unit from the adjacent tower. They’ve been identified by Mach Industries as theirs.”

  “Drake,” Treadwell mumbled, and slammed the side of his fist onto his oak desk.

  McKay’s lips pursed in frustration. He’d been transferred from Langley to assist the senator after another attack, similar to Carringby, four weeks earlier. He’d never been told directly what it was about. He was vexed further by Treadwell’s persistent mumbling and talking in riddles.

  Treadwell stroked his chin as though in contemplation. After a few moments, he turned back to McKay. “This is going to require a more direct approach.”

  “What would you like me to do, sir?”

  The senator stood and moved closer to his subordinate in an intimidating fashion. “Contact the Delta Unit and tell them to accelerate the agenda by one hour. They’ll know what you mean.”

  It was obvious to McKay that Treadwell knew much more about the situation than he was letting on, but that didn’t help him in the least.

  “Tell them to be prepared, and if the worst should happen . . .”

  “The worst, sir? What do you mean?”

  “Tell them to execute.”

  “Execute?”

  Treadwell sighed impatiently and, with a calculating glint in his eyes, said, “Kill Brandon Drake.”

  Eight

  The Code

  “Good morning,” Brandon said as he stepped out of the shower into the bedroom with a towel around his waist.

  Belinda paused for a moment, having difficulty looking away from his cut abdominals and protruding chest. “Hi. Would you like breakfast?” she said finally.

  “Are you kidding? I’m famished.”

  She made her way toward the kitchen and heard him following her.

  “So, what would you like?” he said. “I’m out of croissants, but there’re corn flakes and chocolate crispies in the cupboard.”

  “The chocolate crispies sound great.”

  “How did you sleep?”

  “Better. I was so tired, you wouldn’t believe it.”

  “Oh, yes I would. What you’ve been through would be enough to exhaust the world’s toughest.”

  She turned to him with understanding. “You went through it too, remember?” A question came to her. They were deep into a remote, alpine region, way beyond Aspen, and probably thirty or more miles away from their nearest neighbor. Yet the cabin was so warm. “How is this place heated, Brandon?”

  “Oh, there’s a generator in the basement. I’m always fixing it ‘cause it’s old and worn, but it’ll do for now. The log fire helps too.”

  It surprised her how such things were of interest to her. Subconsciously, she’d already decided this is where she wanted her home to be more than anywhere else. “What do you do here all day?”

  He took out two cereal bowls and two large coffee mugs, and said, “You’d be surprised how busy I find myself. Currently, I’m working on when the next you-know-what is going to happen. I’ve only got the code for information about one more incident, so this is going to be my last chance not to mess it up.”

  She held him by the shoulders and shook him lightly. “You didn’t mess up. Please believe that. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

  He smiled sadly. “There were sixty-two others who didn’t fare so well because I was late. I just wanted to warn everybody to get out of the building before it happened. I thought I had everything, right down to the last detail. I even arrived all tooled up just in case I ran into the bastards, but my timing was wrong.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I doubt it. I’m working with a complicated crypto-numeric code. I have a program in the laptop that’ll figure it out, but I’m no longer sure it’s accurate.”

  “What code is that?”

  “It’s the plans for the attacks. It’s how I’m finding out when and where they’re happening.”

  “But . . . where did you get it?”

  He looked at her awkwardly, but didn’t answer. “Come on. Let’s have some breakfast.”

  After breakfast, Brandon stood up from the kitchen table. “You’re going to need some supplies while you’re here.”

  Belinda cringed. “I know. It’s just that . . .”

  “Just what?”

  “I don’t have any money. The police have it all. I had around sixty dollars in my purse and a couple of credit cards.”

  “Hey, believe me, that’s not even an issue. I’ve got more than enough.”

  “But I can’t expect you to keep me.” Since she was sixteen, she’d learned the value of being self-sufficient, in nobody’s debt, and answerable to as few as possible. It was a way of life she didn’t feel comfortable changing.

  “It’s not a problem, I promise,” he said with the most easy-going manner. “Put it down to extenuating circumstances.”

  “All right, but I’ll pay you back. Agreed?”

  “Hey, hey. It’s fine, believe me.”

  She was rendered speechless by how incredibly generous he was. Despite her discomfort toward his magnanimity, she couldn’t deny the state her life was in. In that moment, the thought of spending the rest of her days simply sitting at the kitchen table with that incredible view of the snow, trees, and mountains through the window, seemed like paradise.

  He stood up from the table, made his way into the bedroom, and threw on some clothes. As he was putting his leather jacket on, he said, “What’s your shoe size?”

  Belinda sat on the sofa watching daytime talk shows on Brandon’s high-definition television screen. It was so relaxing, like she was on vacation from her life.

  Her mind wandered, trying to imagine what she would have been doing had the attack not happened. What tasks would Mr. Carringby have set for her? How would she have been feeling? Would it have been another tedious day at the office? Or would he have given her something challenging to do for once?

  Whatever an alternate universe may have offered, it wouldn’t have compared to where she found herself. She felt a stab of guilt at becoming contented by virtue of an incident that had cost the lives of sixty-two others. Please forgive me, she silently petitioned her lost colleagues.

  A powerful desire came over her for Brandon to find her
something she could help him with. She was overcome with a personal need to assist in preventing the terror she’d suffered from happening to anyone else. She needed something to give her life a sense of purpose. Perhaps she could help him decipher the mysterious code he’d become so cagey about. Why the hell does he have to be so secretive?

  Brandon returned soon after midday and stepped into the cabin with two large bags of provisions, and a dozen red roses, ill-concealed under the armpit of his jacket.

  Belinda had been on his mind constantly since he left. It was eerie how insightful she was. When she’d acknowledged he’d been through the Carringby attack with her, it was as though she knew his trauma. He remembered how rattled he’d been before setting off for Denver to intercept the attack. He couldn’t forget how he’d been so terrified he almost couldn’t bring himself to walk out the door. On the battlefield he had the back up of his unit, but at Carringby, he was alone. And Belinda seemed to know.

  His entrance startled her out of her reverie. The moment she saw the flowers, she shot him a beaming smile. “Oh, my God. Did you buy those for me?”

  He grinned playfully. “No, I got them for my little bear friend. It really loves the taste of roses.”

  She giggled. “No, you didn’t.”

  “I thought you’d like them, so I figured . . .”

  “You were right. I do.”

  He dropped the bags beside the door and handed her the flowers. His gesture had warmed her heart, as was obvious from the look in her eyes. He couldn’t disguise his elation that it had affected her so. Knowing most ladies were particularly fond of flowers, he’d bought them for her in his eagerness to make her feel as ‘at home’ as possible. He was constantly mindful that he was in a familiar place, but she was not.

  She pointed to his right cheek. “You’ve got something on your face.”

  He touched his skin and realized there were remnants of the adhesive he’d used to fix his disguise. He brushed it off with his fingertips. “Thanks.”

  Belinda immersed herself in an endorphin high so compelling she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge caution or hypothetical negatives.

  She looked fondly at her flowers as she took them into the kitchen. Placing them in a vase of water, she questioned why he would have done something like that for her. He was the most caring and thoughtful person she’d ever known. He seemed to be made up of every quality she’d never dared wish for—strong, heroic, selfless and compassionate, deeply caring, good-looking, and with a physique that could have gained him acceptance into Chippendales. He was too good to be true. At any other time it would have been cause for alarm. A lifetime of frustration and disappointment had caused her to become pessimistic.

  “OK,” he said. “I got you some snow boots and a few new clothes. Just casual stuff. I think they’re the right size.”

  She shook her head, overwhelmed by how special he was making her feel. She was about to speak when she noticed the bear cub coming through the trees. “Brandon?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Your little friend’s back.”

  He hurried into the kitchen and looked at the bear through the window. “Hey, would you like to come out with me?”

  She turned to him with uncertainty. “Are you sure? I mean, what if I scare it?”

  “It was unsure of me to begin with, but I won him over. You’ll need to put your snow boots on, though.”

  Excitedly, she returned to the living room.

  Nine

  A Hero’s Secret

  Wearing a gray hooded, insulated snow jacket Brandon had bought for her, Belinda slowly followed him around the cabin. She inhaled the cool, unique fragrance of the wilderness as she waited out-of-sight, just before the clearing. Brandon eased himself onto the bench and placed the bowl of nuts in the snow.

  The bear seemed confident enough and hurried over to its food.

  Brandon whispered, “I think it’s OK. Just take it slowly.”

  Belinda gingerly-but-excitedly stepped forward and sat down beside him. The bear looked up at her, and then resumed eating, completely unconcerned.

  “Hey, it looks like he’s OK with you.” Brandon handed her half of an apple. “Try to give him this. He loves apples.”

  She took the apple and eased it toward the bear. It looked up again and there was a glint of recognition in its eyes. Hungrily, it stood on its hind legs and grasped the fruit from her hands, enabling her to make an observation. “There’s your answer.”

  “What?”

  “He’s a boy.”

  Brandon looked back at the bear. “So he is. He’s never stood up like that for me. He must really like you.”

  “He’s beautiful,” she said.

  “Yeah, he sure is. Wanna try and pet him?”

  “Sure.” She gently reached out and touched the bear’s nose. It responded fearlessly.

  Brandon joined her and stroked its head. “This little guy just about saved my sanity over the last few weeks.”

  Sympathy came over her at the thought of Brandon’s lonely plight. She struggled to imagine what such isolation must have done to his mind.

  She turned back to the bear. “Maybe you should give him a name.”

  “Um, never thought about that. How about Snooky?”

  She chuckled. “Snooky? That’s a silly name.”

  With a light-hearted, juvenile tone, he said, “I am silly.”

  As they continued to pet the bear, their fingers touched, and Brandon froze. She looked into his eyes longingly, and swallowed hard. In the midst of such a beautiful moment, she drew closer to him, but he eased away. It was the same reluctance he’d shown on the night he’d rescued her, and it confused her. “What is it, Brandon?”

  He turned away. To Belinda, it looked as though he was turning away in shame. “I don’t mean to pry, and please tell me if it’s none of my business, but . . .” She paused as she summoned the courage to ask the desperately personal question. After all, he wasn’t wearing a ring, so what else could it be? “Are you gay? Or . . .” She closed her eyes, praying his response to her next suggestion was a negative. “Is there someone else?”

  He slowly turned back to her. “No. It’s nothing like that.”

  She sighed with relief, but she could see he was painfully distressed. “Is it me? Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Please tell me.”

  “I don’t know if you’ll understand. It’s really rather difficult to explain.”

  “Just say it.” She noticed perspiration on his brow. He was becoming such a contrast to the courageous hero of the night before last. She wondered how a man could stare death in the face, and act with such tremendous efficiency, only to suddenly collapse under the weight of a simple question.

  She also noticed something about him that seemed to occur only when he was distressed. She’d seen it the day before when he was preparing to abandon the cabin to take her back to Denver. The star-shaped scar on his forehead seemed to become deeper and more pronounced as the blood pounded in his temples.

  “I’ve never . . .” He closed his eyes, his cheeks flushing a bright shade of crimson. “I’ve never been with a woman like that before.” As the final word fell from his mouth, he lowered his head.

  She looked at him dumbfounded. He wasn’t joking. His perspiration, flushed cheeks, and agonized expression were evidence enough for her. But how could it be? He was so handsome, so fit—so astonishingly attractive. “OK. I don’t really know how to respond to that.”

  “I guess the circumstances for me to meet the right girl just never happened. I sure didn’t wanna wind up acting like my army buddies, or my dad and grandfather. It’s been bugging me for a long time, but it’s just down to a set of circumstances. I don’t know what else to say.”

  She took her hand away from the bear and placed her arm around his shoulders. It was difficult to know what to say, but she knew she should try to ease his distress. “You don’t have to do anything with me that you don’t want to, and I have no expec
tations of you, all right?”

  He exhaled, clearly relieved.

  She decided to see how far she could take the moment. Their lips touched and she attempted to guide him through the experience. First the passionate tasting of him, and then slowly, she inserted the tip of her tongue between his lips. Cautiously, he followed her lead as they gently explored one another. She extended her tongue deeper into his mouth and he awkwardly reciprocated, their respiration increasing in unison.

  However, he broke away from her abruptly.

  “It’s all right,” she said, trying to disguise her disappointment.

  “I’m not ready. Not yet. Please, just give me some time. I know this must seem strange, but it isn’t because of you, I swear. I’m dealing with a lot right now.”

  She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her gnawing passion, and gently caressed his cheek. “I think I understand.”

  They looked across to see the bear staring at them. After a few moments, it turned away toward the trees.

  “Come on. Let’s get back inside,” Brandon said.

  Belinda walked ahead of him and stopped in her tracks, sincerely wanting to assuage his distress. “Brandon, it’s all right, really.”

  He simply nodded, clearly unconvinced. She was aware that no matter how valiantly she was trying to brush off her disappointment, desire still burned in her eyes.

  He closed the cabin door behind them and returned to the kitchen. Belinda followed, blown away by his revelation, and was struggling to process it. “Seriously? You’ve never been with a woman?”

  “Nope. Never.”

  “But how do you feel about that? I mean, it’s such a natural part of life, I just can’t imagine.”

  “There’s a saying that you never miss what you’ve never had,” he said, blushing. “But you know what? It’s not true. I miss this like hell. I’m just afraid of . . .”

  She rested her hand upon his shoulder supportively. “Afraid of what?”