by Laura Acton
TRF HQ – Gun Cage – 4:20 p.m.
Jon began counting ammo, a chore none of them liked to do, but a necessity. He assigned this task to himself as a penance for the way he treated the rookie. It also served as a practical demonstration. Dan would observe that everyone on the team took a turn at doing the most mundane tasks and he was not unduly targeted when assigned.
Loading the spare clips, Bram watched Jon. So far today Jon handled Dan appropriately. Although, he reverted a little during workout when he harshly insisted Dan slow down on the exercise bike. A short clearing of Boss’ throat had Jon backing off. Jon is changing—slowly, but he is indeed making an effort. Perhaps we will witness positive alterations in Dan once he realizes Jon is not a complete ass.
Losing count again, Jon tossed the ammo back into the box, and emitted a low growl. “This sucks!”
Bram chuckled as the count started again. “Yes, it does. We all hate it for probably the same reason.”
As he turned to Bram, Jon smiled. “You are liking this too much, buddy.”
“Yes, yes I am.” Bram’s chuckling became deeper.
“Just keep in mind, as tactical lead, I can make this your chore and take over reloading the extra clips,” Jon cautioned with a hint of humor.
Bram’s chuckle turned into a full-fledged belly laugh. His smile remained firmly affixed as he settled down. “Are you done shopping for the kids?”
“Yeah. I only have to figure out how to put a bike together on Christmas Eve for Joey.”
“Lexa could help. She’s good with tools.”
“I should be able to figure it out. I mean, how hard can it be? Part A goes to part B and so on.”
“Well, the one I put together for Leslie last year had me pulling out my hair. I don’t think the instructions are translated quite right. Took me four hours to assemble the darned thing. I almost didn’t finish before the girls woke up.”
“Well, I might be calling Lexa after all. I swear she runs circles around all of us supposed he-men when it comes to that sort of thing.”
Bram finished filling the last clip as he said, “You spend all your spare time shooting and camping. Lexa grew up on a farm. She helped fix and build things all the time. She possesses skills us city boys don’t.”
Loki popped into the gun cage. “Hey, Lexa and Dan will be back shortly with coffee if you’re interested.”
“I thought they were studying negotiation techniques,” Jon said.
Shrugging, Loki said, “Not sure. Been fixing one of Lucille’s loose treads.”
Jon chuckled. “You gonna bring Lucille as your date to the Christmas party on the twenty-third?”
“I might. She would be an excellent date,” Loki retorted with a huge grin. “Do ya think we can change Dan’s mind and talk him into coming to the annual holiday party?”
Bram shook his head. “I don’t think so. He said he had plans already.”
Loki’s face morphed into disappointment. “But he’s gotta come. I found the perfect gift for the white elephant exchange this year. I’m sure he’ll love it if he ends up with it. Perhaps I should ask him again.”
Jon peered at Loki with a stern set to his face. “Do you require a reminder of what happened when you pushed too hard about the corn maze?”
“No, I don’t. Okay, I won’t ask him again, but I wish he would come.” Loki’s voice came out like a chastised child,
Laying a hand on the bomb tech’s shoulder, Bram’s eyes reflected kindness as he said, “We all do. It’ll take time. If it’s any consolation, I see some changes in him. Dan accepted our help last week after his release from the hospital. He enjoyed your ma’s lasagna, too.”
Perking up, Loki said, “He did, didn’t he? I’m gonna go grab my coffee now.” He bounded out of the room.
Jon sighed eyeing Loki’s exit. “If only Dan was as easy to read as Loki.”
Bram started out of the gun cage but halted and faced Jon. A bright smile lit his eyes as he said, “Then he wouldn’t be Dantastic. I’ll bring you your coffee so you can get back to counting ammo. You do realize ammo doesn’t count itself. It isn’t a glamorous job, but a necessary one.”
Jon chuckled. Bram tossed his words back at him enthusiastically. Picking up the ammo, Jon began counting again. Yeah, no one likes this job.
TRF HQ – Briefing Room – 9:00 p.m.
The team finished a short and sweet debriefing of their call. Dan had remained in the command truck assisting Ray while the rest of them swept the vast warehouse. Bram located the bomb, and Loki defused the explosive device. Lexa and Jon chased down and arrested the subject, a disgruntled employee who sought revenge after receiving a mediocre annual review.
Lexa turned to Dan as they did their paperwork. “So, what are your plans for Christmas? You said you had something on the twenty-third so you won’t be coming to the party. Do you have any fun planned for our four days off?”
Dan stopped writing his report and stared at Lexa. She became the sixth person today to ask him about his plans during their time off. He drew in a breath, feeling only the slightest bit of tightness. He would need to go to the locker room soon and use his inhaler.
“I’m volunteering at Mayfield Soup Kitchen all day on the twenty-fourth. On Christmas, I’m going to a friend’s place,” Dan answered, telling the truth and deflecting at the same time.
Lexa smiled assuming Dan would be spending time with Jarmal. That would be beneficial for him. Dan gave the impression of improved health, but the four-day break would give him more rest. Eventually, those dark circles under his eyes might just go away completely. She could hope.
“So, Lexa, what’s the name of your date for the Christmas party? Wait, let me guess. The name starts with S,” Loki piped up. Happy Dan returned today, Loki was in a playful mood.
Cocking her head, Lexa raised her fist towards Loki in mock warning.
Giving her a dopey grin, Loki pried again, “So, what’s his name?”
“Please, don’t let it be another Skeeter.” Ray teased.
“If you must know, David. And you’re gonna be nice to him. No scaring the crap outta him as you did with Sean,” Lexa stated.
Jon grinned. “Moved on to Ds now. So, should we expect a Dustin, Derek, Dean, Duke, or Dexter in the near future?”
Bram joined the teasing with Jon, Loki, and Ray. They were all aware Lexa rarely went past a second date with any man. They all hoped she would find someone who held her interest, but in the meantime, they enjoyed yanking her chain about her string of one-date men.
Pleased with the good-natured banter flying back and forth between his family, Nick stayed neutral and observed with a smile.
Dan leaned back and noted the flashing golden flecks in Sexy Lexie’s hazel eyes as she made one smartass comeback after another to the ribbing. He found it exciting and fun to watch as Lexa appeared to thrive on verbally sparring with a bunch of guys. Sexy Lexie is no damsel in distress, that is for damned sure.
So, Is He a Comin’?
13
December 24
Toronto General Hospital – ER Room Two
He shouldn’t call him. Tonight, of all nights he shouldn’t bother him, but Dan couldn’t think of anyone else to call. Jarmal and his brothers went on a skiing trip, and he didn’t want to worry or bother Bella. Besides, she was probably at the Ridgewater Chalet near Lake Louise in Alberta. She always spent Christmas with her family there.
There was no way he was calling his parents. The general was undoubtedly there, and Dan had no desire to speak to him. In addition, they lived in Ottawa, four and a half hours away. Besides, they didn’t give a damn about him, and would likely wish the car killed him … eighteen years late in their eyes.
His cousin Scott popped into his head. No, he couldn’t call Scott or any of his cousins either. He had not spoken to any of them in over six years and no longer possessed any of their phone numbers. Besides, they didn’t want anything to do with him and abandoned him like his moth
er and father.
They forsook him despite all his attempts to reconcile a perceived wrong. The entire family quit writing back to him after three years in Special Forces. Everyone ignored his many letters asking what he did wrong. He never received a single response from any of his relatives. A dull ache filled his heart.
He thought at least Scott would write to him, but he received nothing from any of them. The only correspondence came from Bella. She sent him an occasional package which was always hand-delivered to him by someone Bella knew. The Grand Dame was a force to be reckoned with and seemed to possess connections everywhere.
Dan considered calling Commander Gambrill. Though, going that route might cause more problems. He couldn’t allow anyone to find out about his relationship with the commander.
It was a close call when his godfather visited him when he had bronchitis. He didn’t want to chance anyone seeing Gambrill picking him up. With his luck, someone would bear witness, and his problems would increase. A strange sense of relief settled on him as he recalled his godparents left today to visit their daughter in Saint John’s for the holidays.
So now, Dan’s options became quite limited. Squinting because the bright light in the ER room continued to hurt his head, he stared at the cellphone. The nurse retrieved his phone from his clothing. Thankfully not broken, but he only sat holding the damned thing, putting off making the call.
Lakeshia entered the room to check on her patient and noted his squinted eyes. The poor child was hurtin’. The intense light the most likely culprit. She dimmed the overhead lights since the doctor completed her examination.
Dan lifted his head, and his eyes opened a little more in the now darkened room. He met the older nurse’s gaze across the dimly lit room and silently thanked her with a wan smile.
Lakeshia marched towards him. “Did ya reach your friend yet?”
He shook his head—wrong move. Dan halted his motion, but the sickening spinning of the room didn’t. He pushed down nausea. “Haven’t called yet.”
“What’s a stoppin’ ya, child? Ya shouldn’t be in here tonight. Make your call. Friends won’t leave ya hangin’ on tonight of all nights. Unless ya are a lyin’ to me and ya don’t have no one to call,” Lakeshia gently chided.
Dan blushed. “Not lying. Just … um … not so sure I should bother him.”
“Well if it’s a bother, I wouldn’t be callin’ him, friend,” Lakeshia said with her hands on her ample hips. She stared at him until he punched up a number and put the phone to his ear. Lakeshia smiled and headed out to check on another patient, satisfied he was calling. No one should be all alone on Christmas Eve if they had a friend.
Dan hung up after listening to, “… current temperature ten degrees Celsius. Increasing clouds and chance of snow by morning …” He leaned back on the stiff plastic pillow. Can I call? I’ll call a cab and go to my apartment. He snorted, which made his head hurt worse. Yeah right, I can take a taxi, but I can barely walk without assistance. How the hell am I going to climb up ten flights of stairs with the elevator out of order—again?
Crutches would help for the twisted ankle, one step at a time would be slow going, but he would manage. Well, he could if the dizziness didn’t entirely screw up his balance. With my lousy luck, I’ll tumble down the stairs and end up paralyzed. Not a pleasant outcome. Damned teenage driver!
He wouldn’t be in this fix if she paid more attention to driving rather than texting. His fast reaction is the only thing which saved him from severe injuries. Without his speed, instead of a concussion and sprained ankle, he might be lying in the morgue.
Not that he would be missed. At least not until Sarge did rollcall in four days. He supposed Bella, Wilson, Gambrill, and Jarmal would attend his funeral. Perhaps his TRF teammates, too, but no one else would bother. If the general came, it would be only to confirm his death and piss on his grave.
Dan stopped the negative line of thinking preventing it from worming in too deeply and checked the time on his phone. If he was going to call, he should do it now before it got too late. Fortunately, it was after dinner—that thought made his stomach growl. He spent all day at the Mayfield Soup Kitchen helping out and had not eaten a thing.
Caroline offered him a meal, but he turned her down because the food was needed for the families who visited the kitchen. He didn’t want to eat food which would feed someone in need. Besides, he had planned on eating his leftover orange chicken and fried rice when he returned to his place.
The damned teenage driver changed his plans. On his jog home, the distracted teen turned left as he crossed the street in the crosswalk. The girl swore up and down she never saw him.
What is with me and cars turning left and almost hitting me? Am I invisible or are there a lot of inattentive drivers? He had the worst damned luck with that and with broken elevators.
His tuck and roll over the hood of her car was spectacular. His landing, however, sucked. A major point deduction would be in order since his foot landed wrong and his right ankle twisted. His momentum kept him going and his head smacked the ground. He regained consciousness at the scene right before the paramedics arrived.
He gave his statement to the police as the medics examined him. Dan overheard the hysterical teenage girl relating her side and complaining he should’ve been watching for cars. He smiled as the officer lit into her, telling her in no uncertain terms that checking for pedestrians was her responsibility and ticketed her for several violations. The paramedic who assessed him wanted to transport so a doctor could check for concussion.
Not wanting to go to a hospital, Dan insisted he was fine, but his body betrayed him. He stood and tried to walk away when his ankle buckled and he fell, smacking his head on the asphalt for a second time in less than thirty minutes. When he came around again, he occupied a bed in the emergency room with Lakeshia fussing over him.
Speaking of Lakeshia, she peered in at him again. Damn, I’m going to have to call. He sucked in a deep breath and held it. Gradually exhaling he pressed the call button. I really don’t want to make this call.
After four rings, a cheerful voice said, “Happy Christmas Eve.”
Dan replied, “Hi … um … um … this is … um …”
“Who is this?” the voice queried thinking the caller sounded familiar even with the monosyllabic stuttering.
Getting up the nerve, he said, “This is Dan. I hate to interrupt your night, especially tonight. But … um … I sorta … I um. It is okay if you say no … I’ll understand.”
“Dan, are you alright?” A note of concern edged into his voice.
“Yeah, it’s only, I hate … didn’t want to bother you.”
“What’s the problem?” Worry increased. Dan never called him before, so this must be important.
“Sorry, I should hang up now. Sorry to disturb you,” Dan said but didn’t end the call right away.
“Wait. You’re not disturbing me. What do you need?” Surprise mixed with concern, Dan called and struggled to ask him something. He never heard Dan stumble for words in an unsure manner.
Dan chastised himself. Just spit it out, Broderick, if he says no, then you call a taxi and crawl up the damned stairs. Finally, he rushed out his request. “Uh, Bram, I’m in the emergency room, and I sorta need a ride home. If you would rather not pick me up, I understand. I realize it is Christmas Eve and you’re with your family.”
Shocked, Bram asked, “Which hospital, Dan? I’m grabbing my keys and heading out the door now.”
Astonished at Bram’s immediate response, Dan supplied the details. “Toronto General. I’m in room two.”
“I’ll be there in about twenty minutes, thirty tops,” Bram told him then hung up.
Dan lay the phone in his lap after Bram ended the call. It struck him odd Bram didn’t bother asking him what happened. He swiftly and voluntarily dropped whatever he was doing and would be coming here. Apparently, Bram did not require justification why Dan needed him, sufficient only that he calle
d for assistance.
A wave of security passed over him, one he thought lost completely. He possessed this feeling for six years and missed the sensation. His brothers used to treat him like this until the day he killed Brody. A vast hole in Dan’s life existed ever since the day Brody died, and he lost his unit family. He accepted his fault and didn’t blame them one damned bit for not trusting him, shunning him, and refusing to speak to him. He did the unthinkable and killed their brother.
Lakeshia popped her head into the room. “So, is he a-comin’?”
“Yeah, be about twenty or so minutes. His name is Bram De Haven.”
Bram’s Home
“Kellie. Hey, Kellie,” Bram called out as he entered their kitchen finding a wonderful site. His beautiful wife and three of his four daughters were busy making cookies. A Christmas Eve tradition Kellie started after they got married. She always said Santa liked fresh baked cookies. She was right. He snuck a peek, and the girls were making his favorite snickerdoodles.
Kellie glanced up from sifting the flour and smiled. “Yes, honey?”
Bram sidled up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her cheek. “I need to go to Toronto General. Dan called. He needs a ride home.”
Setting the sifter down, Kellie turned in Bram’s arms. “Did he say why?”
“Nope. I didn’t ask. He had a hard time asking me to come. I thought it best to agree and find out the details after I arrive.”
“I hope he’s okay. Why did he call you to get him? Not that I’m complaining.”
Bram’s face clouded a bit. “He doesn’t have anyone in the city. I’m pleased but surprised he called me after how poorly we treated him. I still get sick thinking how insensitive and cold we were to him for months.”
