Daniel's Christmas

by M. L. Buchman

  Alice had… What? Her own clear sense that she was not capable of falling in love. And the certainty that no one could ever love her. Not the firmest logic. It was like saying, if A equals B and X is not equal to forty-two, then L must be false. Logic simply didn’t work that way.

  She tried flipping her thoughts to a more intuitive framework, one that served her well enough to identify Kim Jong-un’s desire to speak with the President in private. One that observed Daniel grabbing her hand when panicked in flight, or protecting her during the simulated helicopter attack, of his hand frozen above the first small door of an exquisite Advent calendar. Three weeks and she still hadn’t been able to forget that moment.

  Never in her life had she imagined that Dr. Alice Thompson had the ability to freeze a man in his place. Her parents had made it clear that her place in the world would never include a relationship. That love was a façade.

  Every one of her friends loved Alice’s parents. They were perfect hosts. Intelligent, funny, friendly. Everyone always told her that she was lucky to have such parents. For a father who retreated into impenetrable silence the instant the guest left. Or the harpy with a martini in one hand and a list of Alice’s on-going faults in the other.

  Not for her. Never that trap.

  Once again Emily was facing her. A glass of wine in her own hand.

  “I don’t like where my thoughts are going.”

  Emily nodded, “Probably means they are on the right track at last.”

  “How do I know?” Alice turned the question about. “How did you know?”

  Emily’s face shifted, a gentle smile revealing a softness difficult to equate with the SOAR Major; a smile that shifted her eyes from bright blue to misty summer sky.

  “I didn’t. I had to beat the shit out of Mark before he convinced me.”

  If that was a dreamy memory, Alice wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the rest of the story. But she couldn’t help but be cheered by Emily’s obvious good mood.

  “So, that’s how Majors choose a mate?”

  “A lifemate. Oh yeah. Absolutely. How about brilliant and beautiful CIA analysts? How do they do it?”

  “Carefully.” Alice replied even as she fought against the echo of Beale’s correction. “A lifemate,” she tried the word out. A strange and foreign word. Her parents were married for life, that had become clear years before, but it was more of a life-inmate arrangement, locked in a mutual prison that neither knew how to break.

  Emily moved around her to drop the pasta into the rolling water.

  Alice finished the garlic, set it beside the diced tomatoes and basil. She grated a couple cups of Parmesan cheese. She felt better, more stable. This time she was able to sip her wine. Which was a good thing, as she could definitely feel that initial slug loosening her brain.

  “I don’t want to be in love with him.”

  “Why not?” Beale flipped the steaks.

  “You’re bloody relentless, aren’t you?”

  “Special Operations Forces pilot. Who knew I’d be like that?”

  Emily left Alice with the relentless silence of her own thoughts. Really unfair.

  She knew she wasn’t in love. She knew she couldn’t be.

  She also couldn’t shake the sneaking suspicion that she was wrong on both counts.

  Chapter 37

  It was an early night for everyone. Late evening in the Canadian Gulf Islands, late afternoon in North Korea at the end of a long day, and little or no sleep the prior night.

  North Korea’s leader hadn’t been rude at dinner, but he’d made it clear that if it wasn’t about basketball, he wouldn’t be talking to anyone other than President Matthews.

  Daniel offered Alice a separate room. The gentlemanly thing to do, and there were just enough beds. Big John and Tim, the two crew chiefs, had bedded down in bunk beds, generous enough for John’s tall frame. Beale and Henderson in one suite, Kim Jong-un in one of similar comfort and style. Daniel and the Korean bodyguard, who had still remained nameless, were to share another bunk room.

  The crew chiefs and the Korean guard had found some degree of trust and set up a schedule so that two could sleep and one patrol.

  He gave Alice the last bedroom, which sported a frilly set of curtains and a double bed with pink and pale blue pillows. Clearly a girl’s room, the nicest in his estimation. He set out a glass of water and a small collection of fine chocolates as he’d done for the others. Sometimes it was the little touches that counted.

  He debated at length about just setting a chocolate and glass for himself on the other side, but it felt presumptuous.

  She’d been strangely silent during dinner and it had been left to himself and Henderson to carry the conversation. Tim and John had chipped in with stories of their more famous escapades as the self-declared pranksters of SOAR’s fifth battalion. Something about painting a general’s Humvee bright pink, every single part right down to the insides of the panels and the under the armor. They’d fully disassembled it to make sure no piece was missed.

  “He had a bad habit of calling SOAR pilots ‘pansy girls’ compared with the 101st airborne.” Tim had clearly been deeply insulted.

  “Along the way, we may have happened to rebuild the steering system so that the steering wheel worked in reverse. But maybe that wasn’t us.” John ended wistfully. Tim had cut his steak in a thoughtful silence that spoke volumes.

  No one had anything to say, and no one had the energy to fill the lagging gaps in the conversation.

  All in all, everyone was relieved when it was bedtime.

  Daniel had helped Mark with the dishes. By the time they were done, everyone had retired.

  Mark slipped into his and Beale’s suite, the lights already out.

  Daniel took a quick turn of the house. Lights were out under all the doors, except one.

  Alice’s door stood open just an inch. A thin beam of light slid out into the hallway.

  He peeked in through the crack.

  Alice was under the covers, already asleep.

  The light that shone through the crack came from the other side of the bed. There, beneath the soft light stood a half-empty glass of water and half of the chocolates he’d left for Alice. The cover was folded back and his travel bag rested on a chair by the window.

  He closed the door and slipped into bed beside her as gently as he could.

  She mumbled something as he clicked off the light. It took him a moment to unravel that she’d said, “I’m awake.”

  “Sure you are.” He whispered back, gently patting the pleasing round of her hip where it shaped the quilt beside him.

  With a soft sigh she settled into a truly deep sleep.

  Daniel, perhaps due to sleeping on the jet plane, lay wide awake long into the night.

  Chapter 38

  Daniel woke briefly and thought he heard the sound of fading helicopter rotors, but the night was dark and the howl of the wind a low moan that whipped sounds out of their normal shape, spattering them across the night sky.

  It was light when he awoke alone. This time he did hear rotors. Distinct, the heavy thud of a Black Hawk pounding the air. An arriving helicopter.

  He whipped out of bed, checked his watch, and decided he’d be much better off if he caught a shower later. Dressed in two minutes, teeth and hair brushed by three, he met President Matthews and Secret Service agent Frank Adams at the front door.

  “Good morning, Daniel.”

  “Good morning, Mr. President.” Daniel could see the Majors and their crew chiefs tying down the helicopter under a heavy sky, which was now shedding snow flurries among the morning’s icy rain.

  The President looked comfortable and easy in the long blue parka more fit for a polar expedition than crossing the front lawn. He’d have slept aboard Air Force One while at McChord Air Force Base. A training ride with hi
s childhood friend Major Emily Beale would not look out of the ordinary when she arrived unexpectedly at the co-located Fort Lewis; unexpectedly and right on schedule.

  Frank Adams entered the house before he allowed the President across the threshold. After careful inspection of the entryway and hall closet, he nodded that the President could come this far and no farther. He moved on to inspect the living room.

  Daniel heard Alice’s bright voice answered by the much deeper voice of the Supreme Leader of North Korea as they entered from the kitchen.

  Ignoring Frank’s protest, the President breezed over to meet his guest.

  Daniel offered the agent a sympathetic look.

  Before the President led his guest into the study, Frank did manage to check it out. Daniel watched his rapid and intense inspection. A leather and cherry wood theme decorated the office, that had been painted in a surprising pastel that offset the substantial furniture quite nicely. A woman’s touch.

  Alice’s hand rested on his arm as the door closed.

  “Are they settled?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Ten people know.”

  Daniel nodded. Then paused. “Eleven people know. Beale’s crew of four, two leaders, two bodyguards, the two of us, and the CIA Director.”

  Alice tipped her head down, letting those bangs swirl forward, but he stooped to keep a clear view of her face.

  “You never told your boss.”

  She shrugged. “Seemed appropriate.”

  He kissed her on the forehead. “You done great, Dr. Thompson.”

  “You too, Dr. Darlington.”

  They both glanced at the door, where Frank Adams had stationed himself solidly before the threshold. The Secret Service agent, despite being in his forties, was immensely fit and towered like a temple guardian statue. The inner sanctum was not to be disturbed.

  Kim Jong-un’s bodyguard was not nearly so vigilant.

  A poker game quickly formed in the kitchen. Apparently Seo-yun, having relaxed sufficiently to speak his name, was eager to learn how to fleece his fellow countrymen upon his return. Henderson and the crew chiefs appeared more than happy to oblige him with a few lessons. Daniel just hoped the man had been fortunate enough to bring no money to America. The fact that no bank in the country could exchange North Korean Won notes wouldn’t have stopped them from taking every one they could.

  In moments a noisy game ensued and was in full swing along with glasses of soda and mugs of hot tea, a large pile of American candy bars close by Seo-yun.

  Daniel landed on the living room couch for lack of anything else to do. He had a thousand memos, phone calls, e-mails… all begging for his attention. And with what might be occurring behind the closed study doors, Daniel couldn’t think straight long enough to deal with a single one.

  When he gave up and shut off his computer he became aware of Alice sitting on the other end of the sofa chatting quietly with Emily Beale. They too were constantly casting sidelong glances at the door.

  Daniel went over to the fireplace that someone else had lit and fed it a log it didn’t really need.

  That was how their day went. Reading, chatting, sitting blankly. When Daniel, Emily, and Alice made lunch for everyone, the game broke up. After delivering two trays into the study, someone raided the extensive DVD collection. But no one could really focus.

  The tension built inside throughout the day as the storm built outside. The rising howl of the storm sheeted freezing rain against the windows. The waves, only a few hundred feet away and fifty feet below, were rarely visible through the blurred glass. High winds sent the rain across the lawn in mesmerizing waves that held others as rapt as it held Daniel.

  Daniel just wanted to curl up on a couch somewhere with Alice. This was why animals hibernated, to avoid storms like this one.

  The weather peaked mid-afternoon with a final blast that shook the house and would have cut the power had it been provided by power lines rather than a sturdy diesel generator.

  As the day’s light faded toward evening, the indistinct murmur of voices from the study stopped. When at last the door opened, everyone had gathered in the living room.

  Daniel noticed that the President, despite his usual ability to appear totally unflappable, was sagging beneath his upbeat attitude. Kim Jong-un, still weeks from his thirtieth birthday also appeared exhausted as if the two of them had wrestled desperately with matters of great importance and only together beat them into submission.

  The two of them stopped just past the door, Frank Adams now standing close behind, the rest of them forming a loose arc around the living room.

  “Well,” the President glanced at the Supreme Leader and they traded a silent nod. “There is much work to be done. And perhaps now less to fear. Time is needed. Time and common sense. You have all done a great job.”

  “Yes.” Kim Jong-un clearly didn’t want to leave the stage solely to the President. “Progress. Perhaps the beginning of partnership. Much work yet from what you might call friendship. But progress. Yes, fine work. You have good people, Mr. President.”

  “Thank you, Supreme Leader.”

  They shook hands once more. Daniel wondered if there could be a more important political moment in recent history, and yet there was not a camera to be seen.

  “Now!” the President clapped his hands together. “We need to get off this island. How do we do that?”

  Chapter 39

  Earlier this morning, Emily’s SOAR team had flown the President and Frank Adams back to McChord, just over an hour round trip and no one the wiser. Apparently President Peter Matthews had spent the day aboard Air Force One with a head cold.

  With the President gone, Kim Jong-un had collapsed into a deep armchair, making no more pretense of how exhausting the meeting had been. Whatever work they’d done, it had been hard on both men. Good work often was.

  The Majors had fought their way back through the storm as if it were a quiet summer’s day and merely a routine flight.

  On their return, Emily had handed Daniel a FedEx package.

  Alice saw that it had been addressed to Daniel, in care of Major Beale at McChord. Beale had looked at Daniel strangely as he tucked it under his arm. Alice barely saw that the return address was Tennessee before it was out of sight.

  When she’d looked up, she came under the penetrating inspection of Major Emily Beale, and she’d be damned if she knew why. Alice felt like a bug facing a windshield.

  Then, a moment later, Alice stood at the door of the island house, waving politely to Supreme Leader Kim Jong-un’s back. He merely huddled against the sleet, the umbrella she’d provided to his bodyguard remained useless in the chaotic winds shooting over the sea cliff to swirl wildly between the house and trees.

  He had thanked her most politely upon learning she was the analyst who had made this all happen. But now that he was out the door, he clearly just wanted to be out of the weather, into the Black Hawk, and homeward bound.

  Which was fine with her.

  She closed the front door and leaned back against it with a gasp of relief.

  Despite the horrid weather, the crew was departing to head out to the carrier parked off the coast. There they’d board the Gulfstream jet back to the Sea of Japan and deliver the North Koreans home. They’d left in the middle of one night and would be returning in the middle of another two days later.

  Daniel had offered to accompany them on the return flight into Korea, but Emily had vetoed it. The weather was bad enough that they didn’t want to risk the extra weight of Daniel and Alice aboard the helicopter. That had meant only two passengers to McChord for the return trip to D.C. and only two out to the aircraft carrier where a passenger jet waited on the flight deck for the return trip to Korea.

  Finding some reservoir of energy Alice couldn’t tap to save her life, Daniel had swept through the house s
tripping beds, turning off lights, tossing dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

  Alone.

  They were alone in the house.

  She and Daniel.

  And would be for at least one day and more likely two until the Majors returned from their second flight into the Korean night or the storm broke enough for Captain Nathaniel Smith to fly out from Vancouver and fetch them.

  Marooned on a Canadian island with Daniel.

  She could think of many things that she did and didn’t want to do with Daniel. She wanted to curl up against that beautiful chest and just weep with exhaustion. Ever since she’d seen that first message out of North Korea that had sent her scrambling to the White House, she’d barely slept. And assuming that the Majors flew as safely as they always did, it had all worked.

  Another part of her wanted to make love to Daniel until she was too exhausted to either weep or laugh.

  And there was the problem.

  “Make love to.”

  She’d never “made love to” anyone. Sex. Sure. Amend that. With Daniel? Mind-bogglingly good sex. Who knew her body could even feel that good?

  Alice reached deep and tried to wake her analyst’s mind, but wasn’t having a lot of luck with that. Instead, she leaned against the closed front door, and did her best not to think.

  Finally at a stop, her body took over and noticed the smell that had come slowly wafting out into the living room. Burgers. Food. Her stomach loudly reminded her of its empty state; none of them had done more than nibble at their lunches during the meeting. And everyone else had left before dinner.

  She trailed her way into the kitchen. In some ways not so different from the kitchen in the third-floor Residence of the White House. A little more country kitchen than elegant interior decor, but both were small enough to create a cozy, intimate feel.

  Daniel had set two plates on the counter. Full service with folded napkins, silverware, water and wine glasses. He’d even scared up a few Christmas decorations now that the North Koreans were gone. A small family of elves and reindeer sat at the far end of the island. Daniel had set them up with tiny plates and their own six-inch tall Christmas tree.