Insanity

by Xavier Neal

  The truth in what she says makes my jaw tremble and my body struggle to stay steady. Needing a minute to get my shit together I ask, “Do you mind if we just...we just...”

  “Yeah,” she nods and gives my cheek a warm touch.

  I relocate my body to the middle of the bed and she curls into me, her head on my chest, her fingers stroking my abs softly. Each brush of my muscles feels so soothing that I let my eyes fall shut. The two of us don't say another word while we lay wrapped in eachother’s arms. Wrapped up tight like this, the chaos from the result of having my life ripped apart at the seams actually almost seems bearable.

  Official HORN Duty Day 13

  The sound of my phone vibrating across the dresser causes an unpleasant groan to come out of me. My arm tightens around Haven's waist. She sighs. I pull her closer. When it stops I shut my eyes again, only to have it start again. Annoyed I roll over onto my back, snatching it up to see the missed call from Jazz.

  Quickly I check the text message left.

  Jazz: Ready for Ice Cream?

  Time for duty. Briefly I shut my eyes and scrub my face in attempt to wake up. Haven and I fell asleep for a couple hours before we woke up and ordered pizza. I refused to leave our room. Thankfully she understood. We spent our time just talking, catching up the way I imagined we would when I came home the first time. She told me all about how Michele got pushy about wanting to see her and date her when we broke up. How she started to see the side of him I saw all along. While the fact made me smile it also made me enraged and want to fucking flatten his face the way I did my closet door. As soon as she saw me tense up however she wrapped both arms around my neck and used her tongue to make me forget. I let her. We made out, ate pizza, and just got to know each other all over again, though it was difficult with having to keep HORN a secret. Haven also mentioned how she let Mandy into her actual past bit by bit over the past few months, slowly unfolding her past for what it truly is. The trust she placed in Mandy all the indication I need to really understand why Mandy came so hard at me at my party. The bravery of expressing strength to face her past enough to have me turned on all over again.

  Leaning down I plant a soft kiss on her cheek expecting that to be all, but she rolls over onto her back and finds my lips before I can leave her. Immediately she lets her tongue nudge against mine. Damn. That's good. The kiss deepens and my hands drift down her t-shirt covered chest, nipple hardening at the lightest touch. Fuck. Me. I missed her. My cock stiffens harder in my boxers just as my phone vibrates again reminding me I have to go. I have to fucking leave. Worst timing.

  Reluctantly, I pull my lips from hers, I whisper, “Angel. I gotta go.”

  On a lazy sigh she asks, “Right now?” I nod and she smiles before placing a chaste kiss on my lips. “Okay.” Surprised there's no argument, no resistance, no question causes me to smile in return. “Be safe.”

  I kiss her one final time, briefly rest my forehead against hers, and take one long deep breath letting her presence do what it does best for me. Calm the havoc inside. I climb out of bed, toss on a pair of jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and shoot Jazz a message back informing her that I'm on my way.

  The drive over is peaceful on the empty road. It gives me the time necessary to steady the emotions that couldn't stop racing inside me earlier. To deal with the chaos of the new information that has come to light. Parents whose relationship wasn't anywhere as perfect as I thought. A girlfriend who I didn't realize I was hurting. Friends who didn't appreciate the fact I didn't trust them. Everyone has fucked up. Everyone fucks up. I guess this is what truly makes us all human. I never wanted to feel human again. The emotions. The risks. The torture. The pain. It's all too fucking much. And too intense. But it's the only way to truly live. And before I give my life for my country, I want to make sure I know I've at least done that. If not for me then at least for my mom. She'd want her son to have a lived a life as something more than just a soldier. More than just an emotionless void going through the motions. She would expect more. Fuck. She deserves more. I deserve more.

  Parked and getting ready to go inside I see Glove and Lordy headed towards the elevator door. They each toss me a nod. I toss one in return. The three of us slide in after following security protocol.

  On a large yawn, Glove groans, “I miss fucking sleep.”

  “When did you crash?” I keep my eyes forward.

  “I don't know. Late.” He yawns again.

  “Drinking?” my voice bites.

  “No,” he snaps back. “I was enjoying a T.V. marathon...”

  The excuse even has a confused look painted on Lordy's face. Lordy asks, “Oh yeah? Which one?”

  Glove stutters, “Uh..the one about the um...fishes. In the deep blue...ya know.”

  “Ocean?” Lordy fills in the blank.

  “Right.” Glove smiles mischievously.

  When the elevator doors open I demand. “Truth. Now.”

  “I was up watching porn,” his answer causes me to nod. “Feel better?”

  “Yes.” I glance over my shoulder before we head towards Jazz who looks wide awake. Her hair is piled in a high pony tail. Her tight navy blue skirt and white button up shirt crisp to perfection.

  Tapping her heel at us she raises her eyebrows at us. “Did you think my calls were a suggestion?”

  “It's 4 a.m. Jazzabelle. Cut us some slack,” Glove yawns again.

  “No.” She snaps loudly. “No slack. No excuses. It's my ass on the line as much as it is yours. So next time I expect faster results. Am. I. Clear?”

  “Yes ma'am,” we reply in unison.

  “We have an op in a few hours. Get your shit together. Glove combat training now. Lordy Director Shepard wants a word with you--”

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “Keep standing in my face and you're going to be,” Jazz snips. “Now go.”

  Jazz in mission mode is not the Jazz who enjoys tossing around playful nicknames and verbal punches. Jazz in mission mode is just like Grim. Frigid. Deliberate. Focused. I appreciate it.

  “Yes ma'am,” he shuffles past her keeping his attention centered dead ahead. Glove follows behind headed for his assigned area.

  When they're out of ear shot she says to me, “Weapons. With me. Now.”

  “Yes ma'am,” I answer following her straight to the room.

  The second the door shuts behind us she lets loose, “You ignored my fucking call! Have you lost your fucking mind Grim?” Her attack is warranted. I should've responded sooner. I know it's my job. I know better. I'm a better soldier than this. My lips press together, preparing to finish taking the verbal lashing. “I call. You come. That's the fucking deal! You don't ignore my calls! You don't keep me waiting! You are to be here when you are summoned Jacket! That's how this works! That's how this fucking works! Am I clear?”

  Immediately I fall in line to my soldier stance. With both hands behind my back I stand at attention before answering, “Yes ma'am.”

  Finally Jazz takes a long breath and folds her arms across her chest. “What the hell happened to you? You're better than this.” Not hearing a response from me she snaps again, “I need your fucking head in the game Grim. And right now it's not.”

  I press my lips tightly together. It was a hard fucking day yesterday. A hard fucking night. And now I'm getting my ass chewed out. Even if it should be it doesn't change the fucking fact it's the last thing I need. I can do my goddamn job. I can do my duty. My head nods at her as I hand her a pair of the head phones hanging on the rack.

  Without a word, I grab a set for myself, put them on, and load up one of the hand guns. Once her head set is on, I step up to the edge and fire away at the target dead ahead all shots landing in the heart. Reloading without hesitation I lean slightly to the side and fire four consecutive shots into the target on the left, to the head before repeating the action to the right. When the second magazine is emptied, I disassemble it, and place it down. I remove my head phones and relocate them back on the hook
.

  Once both of my hands are behind my back at attention again I coldly say, “My head is in the game ma'am. I am ready for duty.”

  Jazz folds her arms fighting the urge to smirk at my smart ass behavior. I've had enough talking. Actions have always spoke louder. Actions have always been my stronger point. For the first time since all the information came barreling down on me I feel in control. Like I have purpose. Like my life isn't just something that's going to keep fucking happening to me. Life is something I can fucking do something about. My chest swells with pride. Even if the rest of my world crumbles, this I can do. This will always be steady. This is what I'm meant to do.

  She rolls her eyes before pointing at me. “Stop playing with hand guns and work with the rifles. I've got the program set for light training. When it runs out, clean your weapon and meet me in Merlin's room.”

  “Yes ma'am.”

  “You're not completely off the hook ya know,” her defense weakens and I let the corner of my lip pull.

  “Of course not.”

  “Ugh,” she grunts and turns around escorting herself out.

  Relieved that I have fixed something for the day I do as she instructed. I put the magazines away, switch weapons, and follow the task I was given. For the next hour I pour all energy and effort into training. The dedication and focus is refreshing. Soothing. Calming. When my round is over and my weapons are clean, I relocate myself upstairs as she instructed just as Glove comes out of the physical training center with Tyger.

  Catching up to my side Glove huffs, “Note to self. Porn marathon before a workout session here, not a good combination.” I shake my head at him. “Where were you?”

  “Weapons.”

  “Lordy?”

  “No clue.” I answer walking into Merlin's room to see Director Shepard standing in front of a screen talking to Jazz and Lordy.

  “Kissing ass to the principal,” he mumbles jokingly in my ear. I land a hard elbow in his ribs. In a grumble he snaps, “Fuck.”

  “I'm sure it was deserved,” Jazz backs me as we join their sides.

  “When is it not?” I counter and she smirks.

  Director Shepard glares before he folds his arms across his chest and says, “Merlin.” The screen switches to a picture we remember. “Gentlemen this is an abduction mission. This is the target. We're bringing him in alive and clean. Jazz.”

  The screen switches and we see a red slightly rundown building. “Martin Banks has been hard to pin down. When we brought Have--” she cuts herself off quickly. “The Victim in for the interview, the hope was she would provide us with something unique that wasn't in the files. She did. This little restaurant happens to be one he still frequents. According to a source on the inside he comes in a couple days of the week for the special and afterward camps out in the back office. Sometimes for a couple hours. Sometimes the entire night.” Merlin clicks the remote and gives us a shot of the back from the alley where there's a small window. “He keeps the accounting books for them, so he's allowed access whenever.”

  “How'd you get the source?” Lordy ponders.

  “You'd be surprised what information a girl can get with a glass of wine, her hair let down, and two buttons undone,” she beams proudly.

  “For some reason I don't think I would,” the comeback has a brief red color flush her cheeks.

  “I know I wouldn't,” Glove adds to the conversation playfully.

  “Focus,” Director Shepard snaps.

  “According to the pattern I put together from food receipts, which I went through by hand because they don't believe in goddamn technology, he should be coming in today for lunch. It's a cut and dry capture. There's a backdoor located here,” she points as Merlin zooms in. “I will slip back there and make sure I get it open for you. Glove will knock him out and Lordy will help you slip him out the back into the van. I'll cause a distraction. Grim will be back up stationed on the roof here,” the screen switches.

  “Back up for what?” Glove ponders and Director Shepard's face tightens. “If it's that simple of me dropping him with the shot and sliding him out the back what is Grim sniping for?”

  Jazz politely turns to him, “Martin is not as dumb as he looks. That entire back office is wired with safety switches in case someone comes after him. He's in a business where this won't be the first time someone tries to take him out. He's prepared. This is one of his safe spots, so let's just say reinforcements are waiting at the push of a button. Grim is there for worst case scenario. Let's try to keep him from pushing one of those buttons.”

  “Yes ma'am,” Glove responds quickly.

  “Good. You leave in two hours. I suggest you change into your uniforms and refuel,” Director Shepard says sternly.

  “Yes sir,” the three of answer in together leaving the room.

  3 and half hours later I'm planted on the roof across from the building patiently waiting, my scope focused in on where I'll see Martin Banks.

  “Mic check one two, one two,” Glove mumbles in the ear piece as I watch Jazz come into the office space. “Mic check one two, one two.” I roll my eyes. “Seriously. Can you hear me?”

  “Glove. The entire fucking neighborhood can hear you,” Lordy grumbles from inside the van parked close to the alley.

  Jazz shakes her head as she unlocks the backdoor. Glove's hand is on the knob ready to go. In a soft voice she says, “Might I suggest you take this seriously.”

  “We are,” I stand up for them. “Jackets.”

  “Yes ma'am.” Lordy quickly says while I watch Jazz stroll out of the office.

  “Yes ma'am,” Glove echoes.

  “Good. Because I can't find the bathroom!” she yells loudly the code phrase letting us know Martin is heading for the target area. “Where's the bathroom?” Her voice sounds like an innocent school girl.

  “Right across the way beautiful,” a voice struggles to sound smooth as it answers.

  “Oh thank you,” she coos and goes silent.

  Moments later Martin comes into my line of vision. Unlike his two brothers he doesn't look like a scumbag. He looks like a college student. Trustworthy almost. A smart cover. I grip my gun tighter. I watch him lock the door and head towards the desk.

  After a deep breath in preparation I state, “Go.”

  Glove opens the back door swiftly and steps inside without a word. To my surprise Martin responds by reaching behind his back for a weapon I assume. In immediate response I fire off a shot that lands beside him in the desk causing him to stumble and rethink reaching for it.

  “I wouldn't try that again.” Glove says slyly.

  Martin goes to reach for the phone on the desk when I fire off another round directly into it.

  “Not a good time to make long distance calls.” Not professional. Not funny either.

  He swallows deeply and holds his hands up, “What do you want?”

  “You.”

  “Join the club. It's always growing.” Martin goes to make a move again and I fire another shot this time barely nicking his hand.

  “I'm asking you nicely to come with me,” Glove says cautiously approaching the desk. Martin looks towards the window where I'm sniping as if gauging his chances when Glove makes a swift attack. Prepared to fire again I'm surprised at how smoothly Glove operates blocking the punch, trapping Martin, and injecting a shot into his neck. Martin slumps over on the desk.

  “Command 2.” I instruct and Lordy backs the van up blocking the alley while Glove is dragging the body through. At the time Jazz's voice comes over the ear piece clearly flirting with the waiter who should be delivering him his lunch. Quickly I pack up my rifle, collect my shell casings and wipe away any other proof I was here. Within five minutes flat I'm inside the back of the van with Glove and Martin who is passed out. Jazz slides in the passenger seat moments later and we're headed back out of town. Mission complete.

  Hours later I'm leaning on the area where Merlin scanned our hands and retina, watching one of the T.V. monitors.
The one with Green Eyes. The one with the only breathing piece of my angel's nightmare past. The piece that if it were my choice I'd rip out those eyes and take them to her as a trophy. No. He didn't hurt her, but he didn't try to save her either.

  I watch as Lordy continues questioning, my curiosity of what he's saying piqued. The fact that he's learned more than the language skills now apparent. How the fuck do I go from feeling like I know everything about everyone to knowing what feels like goddamn nothing. I grip the edge of the desk tighter.

  “Please don't break my table.” Merlin's face slightly peers over the edge.

  “Sorry,” I apologize and let go. Placing my hands into my pockets I keep my eyes plastered on the screen. Why can't I fucking read lips?

  “I can switch monitors and turn the sound on,” Merlin offers in a meek voice.

  On a heavy sigh I decline. “No. If Director Shepard wanted me to know what was happening in that room, I would.” Frustrated I push my lips tightly together. I want to know what the bastard is saying. I want to ask him some questions. I also want to grab him by the back of his head and smash it repeatedly into the table. A flicker of a smirk comes on my face at the thought.

  “You're thinking about beating him up aren't you?” Merlin ponders out loud from his hiding space.

  Observant hermit. I'll give him that. “Why do you hide under there?”

  “Who says I'm hiding?” he replies.

  “True. Are you hiding?”

  His face appears again and he shakes his head. “No. I think better here. I work better here. I like the small space.”

  I nod at him, “I respect that.”

  “You're one of the only ones,” he mumbles and slinks back under the desk.

  Finally I see Lordy leave the interrogation room at the same time Jazz flies around the corner. My eyes switch to her as the director storms in behind her. She looks nervous. He looks pissed. The combination is one that's going to lead to something I don't like. Glove walks in with a towel wrapped around his neck looking freshly showered. Exactly how I should look. But I couldn't. I couldn't have this bastard in the same building, this fucking close, and not have an eye on him. Not when I know what his family is capable of.