by Jack Du Brul
A blow landed solidly in his stomach and another caught him on his jaw. He rolled with the shots, giving himself a few moments to recover. A PEAL advocate came after him, hands held low and at the ready. Mercer let him come, gauging the man with an expert eye. As soon as his attacker had committed himself to a powerful roundhouse punch, Mercer eased back just enough so that the fist slid past his chin. He grabbed the man’s outstretched arm, steadied his target, and fired off a series of punches at the man’s exposed flank, fists sinking into the hard pad of muscle below the activist’s arm. A couple of ribs snapped with sickening pops.
Mercer sidestepped the falling environmentalist and targeted the man holding Aggie. Her attacker had freed one of his hands so he could grope between her legs. His shoulders were hunched to protect himself from her futile ripostes. Mercer shoved aside two struggling men who staggered into his path and reached Aggie only sixty seconds after the fight had broken out.
Had her assault not turned sexual, Mercer might have been willing to let her feel the consequences of her action. She was playing with other people’s lives as a pet project, disregarding what was at stake for the men and women who lived in Valdez. Protests like this were strictly geared for the media. PEAL wasn’t in Alaska to raise environmental awareness, just the world’s awareness of the group’s existence. Their interest in Valdez would last only as long as they could hold the media’s attention, then they would move on. But the man holding Aggie had made the mistake of trying to satisfy some perverse desire by fondling her.
Even as Mercer swept a half-filled beer bottle off one of the few unoverturned tables, he hoped that a less amorous man had pinned Aggie. She wanted to be part of the Green Revolution, and this was its reality. Tear down what exists and worry about the aftermath later. With a strong downward jerk, the bottle shattered over the man’s head and he hit the floor before the last of the disintegrated glass found its way to the carpet.
Aggie was pulled off balance by his fall, sliding off the speaker and onto her feet. Her eyes widened to almost impossible proportions when she recognized Mercer standing before her.
“Now, what’s a nice girl like you… Oh, never mind, let’s get the hell out of here.” Mercer grabbed her wrist and led her out a back door just as the police stormed into the bar. As they fled, Mercer took an instant to notice that nearly all the PEAL activists were still fighting while the floor was littered with the dazed forms of Valdez’s toughest citizenry.
The alley behind the bar was dimly lit and the Dumpster next to the back exit was filled to near overflowing. Aggie tried to stop, but Mercer wanted to be as far away from the bar as possible. He didn’t want to spend the night in the town’s drunk tank with a group of hungover antagonists whose fight was far from over. He dragged her to a lit street, one block inland from the bar.
Once under the protective pool of a streetlight, she stopped and jerked her arm out of Mercer’s grip. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You’re welcome.”
“Answer me, goddamn it.”
“Hey, I was in the right place at the right time. If you want to go back, be my guest. I’m sure that guy would love to have another go at you,” Mercer said with more anger than he felt.
“Fuck you.”
“Good-bye, Aggie.” He started to walk away and was relieved when she ran up and grabbed his sleeve.
“I’m sorry. I don’t care why you were there tonight, but I’m certainly grateful.” She looked up at him, her eyes like gems.
He wanted, more than anything else, to kiss her, to capture that mouth with his. But he turned away instead and continued walking. He hated being this confused, and his natural reaction was to leave, as if getting away from her presence would ease the hurt in his mind.
“Mercer, wait!” She caught up to him again, and they began walking in stride, her long legs matching his angry pace. Without a word, he shed his leather jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She snuggled into it like a favorite blanket. After a moment she said, “We need to talk.”
“I really don’t think we do.”
“The man who broke into your house, I knew him.”
“Yes, I know,” Mercer replied evenly, thankful she hadn’t dodged the other issue that had been plaguing him since that night. “I’ve never seen anyone face death the way you did. Your expression wasn’t fear or disgust, it was recognition.”
He might have expected her first revelation, but he wasn’t prepared for her second. “He worked for my father.”
“What?” Mercer stopped, whirling her around so that she faced him.
“Well, he used to. I confronted my father about it yesterday. He told me Burt Manning hadn’t worked for him for a couple of months.”
“And you believed him?”
“Yes. No. Well, maybe. I don’t know.”
“Aggie, we’re talking about lives here, mine in particular.”
“When I talked to my father, he knew what time I was at your house and the only way he could have known that is if Manning had told him before breaking in to kill you. Manning must have been working for him.” Aggie went quiet for a second, on the verge of tears. “I just can’t believe it. My father is a monster, but he would never have someone killed, especially you. You two are friends. After I talked to him, I was so scared, I didn’t know what to think, so I came here a couple of days before planned.”
“Aggie, do yourself a favor and get the hell out of Alaska. You’re not safe here.”
“I’m safer here than I was in Washington.” They started walking again.
“Manning wasn’t after you. He was after me, and his reasons have nothing to do with your father. Go home.”
“What does being in Alaska have to do with anything?”
“More than you think, but I don’t have time to explain.” Mercer had shut down the emotional side of his brain so when he spoke again it was without the trace of bitterness he expected. “You and your PEAL friends should just pack up and go somewhere else.”
“None of us are leaving until our work is done.” Her tone was absolute.
“Hey, you guys want to go chain yourselves to trees and stage marches, that’s fine, but people are dying here and I’m afraid it’s not over yet. Don’t you understand? You are about to get caught up in something more dangerous than that barroom brawl. Is your life worth more than making a little noise about the environment? Listen, Aggie, your father didn’t have anything to do with that attack on my house. It was coordinated by a former KGB operative named Ivan Kerikov, and he’s in Alaska now and has already killed four people including three of my friends.”
“But my dad knew when I was at your house,” Aggie persisted.
They’d walked back to the docks, where a crowd of PEAL activists were clustered around the two large Zodiacs. By their laughter, it seemed that only a few had been arrested and none seemed the worse for the fight. Mercer guessed that the lenience was due to the media’s presence. His impression that they were like a bunch of collegiates out for a good time was reaffirmed. He paused, while he and Aggie were still in the shadows of a storefront, and watched the environmentalists a little more critically. They appeared too relaxed, and something about that niggled at the back of Mercer’s mind.
“Well, there are your friends. I know you’re not going to listen to my advice because you’re too stubborn, but I want you to be careful, all right?”
“Mercer, I-”
“Just be careful.” He turned and vanished into the night so quickly that his absence surprised her.
A moment later she’d rejoined her friends, laughing with them as they recounted their prowess in the fight before boarding the Zodiacs for the brief run out to the Hope. She kept peering into the darkness, hoping to see Mercer watching her, but he was gone.
As the group clambered aboard the rubber boats, another figure was watching them, tucked deeply in the shadows. He languidly massaged his crotch as he watched Aggie ease herself into a Zodiac, her taut b
ody straining against the denim of her jeans as she stood for one instant stretched between the wharf and the boat.
She’s got the backside of a young boy, Abu Alam thought. He touched the lump on his head where the bottle had collided. He couldn’t have his revenge against the man tonight; Kerikov was expecting a report about PEAL’s activities in town, but he now knew the man’s face very well. And once he was out of the way, there was nothing to stop him from discovering if her ass felt as tight as it looked.
MV Hope
The wooden steps slung from the side of the research ship could be lowered from the main deck to water level like a medieval drawbridge. The men and women waited in the Zodiacs with the anticipation of marauding Saxons eager to storm a Norman castle, ready for their party to continue aboard their ship. Aggie went up with them, mindful that the graphite strips on each tread were slicked by a chilly fog. She did not share the high spirits of the other activists.
She was carried up the last few steps by a big Norwegian student nearly ten years her junior who laughed as he set her on the deck with a gallant flourish. His hair was almost as white as his toothy grin. She tried to smile back, but everything suddenly began to feel unreal, as if she shouldn’t be here, as if this was no longer her world.
The feeling of disquiet clung to her as she entered the main salon, grateful for the heat blasting from the ventilators. It was only then that she realized she was still wearing Mercer’s bomber jacket. She brought the collar to her nose and inhaled the rich aroma of worn leather, a trace of his musky aftershave, and the unmistakable scent of the man himself. The smell was pleasing, comforting. She shed the jacket, tossing it over her chair in a quick guilty gesture as if those around her somehow knew what she’d just been feeling.
She felt disconnected from the party that was continuing around her, barely acknowledging the bottle of beer that was put in front of her or the animated chatter of the people. She wondered if she’d been away too long and just needed a little time to reacclimate herself to their boisterous lifestyle. Or had she changed in the month since she’d last been aboard the Hope, when she’d been part of this extended family?
Certainly things in her life had affected her — Burt Manning’s death, her father’s possible connection. And Mercer. She absently fingered the rough texture of his coat, finding the leather scarred and worn like its owner.
She’d felt absolutely powerless when the man in the bar had grabbed her and began to grope. He could have raped her right there and she doubted anyone would have noticed in the confusion. And then, suddenly, Mercer was there, like the hero of the trashy romance novels she’d read as a girl. How he had come to be there she still didn’t know, but she was grateful. Not that she’d shown it. The conflicting emotions he generated were almost too much to take. He attracted her with an irresistible magnetism, yet whenever they were together, he managed to infuriate her with just a few words or even a look.
She wondered if she lashed out at him because of her own insecurities, wanting to build a wall between them. Aggie knew she shouldn’t even be thinking about Mercer in this way. She loved Jan and hoped one day to be his wife. She had no answers, just a vague sense of falling into something much bigger than she could handle.
Aggie lit a cigarette and got up mechanically, ignoring the party and the beer that sat in a clear pool of condensation on the table’s Formica top. Jan hadn’t been aboard the Hope when she’d arrived in Valdez. She knew she should have waited for him to return instead of joining the party. She hadn’t seen him in a month, and should be looking forward to their rendezvous. But she felt hollow, like a fragile shell that would crack with only a slight touch.
She walked blankly down the corridor in the direction of Jan’s large stateroom, cursing herself for her lack of resolve. She’d always known what she’d wanted and always gotten it. But now? God, I hate this, she thought. She knocked timidly on his cabin door and entered without waiting.
Jan sat behind his desk, wearing a heavy sweater despite the warmth of the cabin. It was obvious that he hadn’t been aboard very long, otherwise he would have changed, for he had an aversion to heat. There were papers strewn across his desk, and his head was bowed in concentration over them, a pen poised to strike if needed. He scribbled a furious notation before finally looking up, smiling when he saw Aggie standing at the door, her body partly shielded behind it as if awaiting punishment. He was so beautiful to her.
“Aggie! Oh, my God, I’m so glad to see you.” He came from around the desk, his long arms opening wide, crushing her to him tightly. He tilted her face up to his, pressing his lips to hers. When she didn’t respond, he backed off slightly. “What’s wrong, my darling?”
“Oh, Jan.” Aggie paused, not sure herself what was wrong. “I was so scared tonight. You heard about the fight at the bar.”
“Yes, I was already told. Heinz and Pierre are both in jail until morning on a drunk and disorderly charge. Someone said you were almost molested but some local managed to sneak you out the back door. It must have been terrible.”
“Yes,” Aggie replied simply, relieved that Jan didn’t suspect that there was something else on her mind.
“I wish I’d known you were coming to Alaska early. I would have met you in Anchorage. Why didn’t you call me?” Voerhoven held her at arm’s length, looking deeply into her impossibly green eyes.
“I didn’t know myself. I kind of came here on the spur of the moment.” She didn’t mention the panic that had precipitated her flight from Washington.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re here.” Jan smiled at her, his intentions evident in the huskiness of his voice.
“Please, Jan, not tonight. I know I haven’t seen you for so long, but I just don’t feel right. Clean, I mean. That man…” Her voice trailed off.
“Oh, darling, that’s not what I meant. Well, partially that’s what I meant. But listen, great things are about to happen here. Things that I want you to witness, to be a part of.”
Suddenly Mercer’s warning flashed in her head. “What things, Jan?”
“Aggie, we’re about to strike a real blow against the fascist corporations whose greed is destroying the planet.”
“My father’s included?” She didn’t mean to sound like she was defending her father, but her tone was harsh and accusatory.
“We’ve talked about that,” Voerhoven said, holding up his hands as if warding off a physical assault. “I thought you understood that he has always been one of our fiercest adversaries. Petromax is one of the most ruthless exploiters in the world. I thought you were okay with what we are doing. You’ve said countless times how you want to get back at him. Now is your chance! We’re on the verge of something great here, something that will save Alaska and maybe the rest of the world as well. In the next couple of days we are going to force the world to live without oil, Aggie. Don’t you know what that means?”
“No, Jan, what does it mean?” she replied sharply. The spell he could so easily weave around her seemed no longer to hold her enraptured. For the first time she was seeing him for what he was, not what she wanted to see. What has Mercer done to me? she thought.
“You’ll understand when we’re finished. You will see. We are about to save the planet from its greatest scourge, its thirst for oil.”
Again Aggie found herself thinking about Mercer’s words. “What will you replace it with?”
“What?” Jan asked tenderly.
“If you shut off the world’s oil, how will you supply energy for schools and hospitals, provide jobs for the millions of people who depend on oil for their livelihoods?” Aggie shook herself free from his embrace.
“Aggs, I’m not going to shut off the world’s supply of oil. I’m going to make it such a repugnant source of energy that no one will want to use it.”
“What are you talking about?”
He took her into his arms again, pressing his engorged groin against her body, his hands traveling the length of her ba
ck in fervent strokes. “Later, Aggie.” He kissed the hollow of her throat, his tongue deftly stroking one of her most sensitive areas.
“Jan, please. I told you.”
He ignored her pleas. “Aggie, I haven’t seen you in so long. God, I want you.”
She felt herself being maneuvered out of the office portion of his cabin and into his stateroom. Allowed herself to be maneuvered, she thought, for she could have resisted. If he felt the stiffness of her body, he ignored it.
At his bedside, he laid her gently on the eiderdown duvet. “You are so beautiful,” he breathed, his face flushed with desire.
“Jan, please don’t,” Aggie whispered. Why was this happening? Why was she allowing this to take place? As much as she wanted to stop him, part of her mind told her she owed him. And even as she thought it, she knew it was wrong. She owed him nothing.
He unsnapped the top button of her jeans and slowly pulled down the zipper. She made no move to help him, nor did she try to stop him either. His hands were so familiar on her body, caressing her narrow hips, tracking across her breasts. Didn’t she owe him? They’d been lovers for nearly a year. Surely this was right.
He undressed himself and a moment later entered her painfully, for her body had not responded to his advances. He seemed not to notice. He covered her completely, his nude form supported by his hands as he pistoned up and down, head arched back, eyes closed. He came, burying his head into her shoulder in a silent explosion.
Aggie felt like a whore.
Mercer made it back to his hotel room about midnight, his mind cleared, his raging emotions of an hour earlier kept firmly reined in. He was frozen to the core. Having surrendered his jacket to Aggie, he’d had to walk to his hotel in nothing more than a shirt, and this was not the weather for it. He thought of taking a shower, but a quick check of the time told him that he should make his call before turning to his body’s needs.
