by Alex Howell
“Always,” Mason said, becoming slightly emotional. “I love you, Clara.”
“I love you too, dad.”
Mason hung up, and now, for real, there was no deflecting the feeling.
He was alone.
The question was, how long would he choose to remain alone?
The answer, for the time being, probably wasn’t as long as Mason had once believed.
8
September 6th, 2028
8:43 p.m.
Washington, D.C.
All the members of Onyx regrouped a little further down Pennsylvania Avenue at the Round Robin, an old watering hole, a place where the powerful elite, as well as D.C.’s down and out, perpetually rub their shoulders together.
Mason and Raina arrived early to reserve a table for the group. The table was large and spacious, and it was not lost on Mason, after last night, that she had made it a point to sit next to him. That might have been dismissed at one time as just coworkers sitting next to each other, but after what Clara had said, it made a whole lot more sense. For now, though, he wasn’t quite willing to see where it led.
It didn’t help that after he had hung up the phone, though Mason quickly fell asleep and would not awaken until five a.m. the next day, when he woke up, he felt as alone as he ever had. Those morning hours were reserved for running through the woods with his daughter, thinking about Bree, or just waiting for Clara to wake up. There was a half-decent chance that given it was only two in the morning over there, Clara had not yet even gone to sleep. College students kept hours that would make many a military member brush.
In the end, what it had all done to Mason is make him think about what his relationship and status was to Raina. There was one thing that got established right off the bat—he was not going to compromise the mission for the sake of some fun. There was too much at stake for a coffee date, let alone drinks and maybe more.
But after? Once they’d figured out their own Ebola crisis?
Why not?
The two didn’t discuss that topic, though, and Mason was grateful for that. Instead, they talked about how they had spent their day off. For Mason, once he’d woken up, he’d gone for a light run, the kind that didn’t exhaust him, but gave him the chance to just meditate in harmony with nature. Raina had binge-watched a new adult cartoon series before she had fallen asleep halfway through episode two, waking up to the season finale. She rewatched it, bringing her to one in the afternoon, before she ordered some pizza and had a glass of wine. It was, as she said, “normally refreshing.”
Before any other unusual topics came up, Kyle showed up. As the quiet one, perhaps it was not too surprising that he ordered drinks in order to maximize his talking. Otherwise, he was going to sit there, not say much, and speak only when spoken to. Although, Mason thought, he had noticed that Kyle had become a bit more outspoken after the Warrior incident. Perhaps he’d gained confidence in what he had done, or perhaps he was just getting older and more confident. He was still quiet, but it was a step up.
Marshal came in a few minutes later, and he looked remarkably more relaxed than earlier—so much so, in fact, that it looked like Marshal had spent the time getting a tan on the beach, a full body massage, and then a week’s worth of sleep. He wasn’t smiling—he rarely did—but the lines on his eyes and the general weariness were significantly improved.
Chris came next, and he looked even more pissed off than the day before. This, too, didn’t surprise Mason. Chris had a tendency to get in his own head and get more fired up. Only in groups that focused on staying calm could he actually remain calm.
Sitting at the table, then, were Mason, Raina, Marshal, Chris, and Kyle. The team, Mason noticed, was quite refreshed and seemed a lot more with it than not. Conversation was much more crisp.
“This everyone?” Mason said.
“Case is still out for some time,” Marshal said. “We’re only pulling him in if a true emergency comes up. I think there’s one more.”
And then, as if making a dramatic entrance, was the man Mason most wanted to see at this meeting, the “one more” Marshal had promised.
It was Luke Simon, Mason’s old SEAL friend, and the mastermind behind Mason’s return to the world of special ops. It was Luke who had called Mason out of retirement and encouraged him to join Onyx. It was Luke who had played such a huge role in helping him save Clara, and it was Luke whom Mason trusted the most in the world aside from Clara.
Even more so than Raina.
“Welcome back, Luke,” Mason said as he stood up to give him a hug.
If there was anyone on the teams whom Mason could call a friend more than a brother-in-arms, it was Luke.
“Yeah, I guess it has been a while,” Luke said apologetically as he took a seat. “But I wasn’t missing this one. Too much is at stake—and General Thomson has been all over me to make it clear to you guys that we need to get those vials back before the election.”
“Tell us something we don’t know,” Mason grumbled as he sat down. “If he’s so invested, why doesn’t he show up?”
“Mason,” Luke said.
The sigh that accompanied his name was the usual message of “I know you hate it, but someone has to play the politics game, so let me do it.” Mason didn’t understand it, but it was Luke, so he respected it.
“I know it’s not ideal, but the general has a lot more on his plate than just us. I can say with confidence that the threat we’re all dealing with right now is the biggest one, but that doesn’t mean that it’s only one. There are a whole lot of fronts a general has to handle. But, in any case, you probably already know that these terrorist scumbags have followed you to our own backyard, right? That they’re right here in Washington D.C.?”
Right down to business. Just as I like it.
“Yes, I double checked with my own intelligence sources and they confirm that the suspects have indeed arrived in D.C.,” Raina said. “But we still haven’t received word of any demands or contact made by the alleged perpetrators.”
“Yep, that’s correct. We know they’re in the city, but we haven’t heard a damn thing from them,” Marshal said. “They’re as silent as can be.”
Well, this is a lovely start to a nice round of drinks, Mason thought.
But, unlike before, and perhaps because there was no General Thomson to rip them all to shreds, things were looking a little bit better. The team was more engaged. Eyes weren’t looking down. People actually looked like they wanted to solve problems, not figure out where they wanted to sleep.
“It seems that they don’t want to contact us.”
Of all the people Mason expected to speak up, Kyle was the last.
But, well, Mason was realizing his understanding of Kyle was having to evolve every passing moment. He wasn’t just a computer geek—he was someone who knew what he was doing and gaining confidence before these soldiers as a result. Time would be needed, but he was getting there with every passing day.
“Just think about it. If this was a simple case of extortion or ransom, we would hear from the suspects immediately. I, uh, I don’t think that it’s about that.”
“True,” Luke murmured. “If it was money they wanted, we would’ve heard something by now. The CDC, obviously, is anxious to get those vials back as soon as possible.”
“Right, and that’s what we’re here to talk about tonight,” Mason said.
“It seems, uh, maybe they’re radicals?” Kyle offered.
It wasn’t as strong a statement as everything leading up to it, but it was something. Still, while the team was making good progress, it needed a clear direction—otherwise, the beers weren’t serving any purpose but to facilitate silly brainstorming conversations. And beers were only a means to generate ideas, not to have a good time.
“I think that the best strategy to take, as I discussed before, is to fan out and have an operative on every corner. If we have enough people scouring the city and asking the right questions, we are bound to catch a lead
sooner or later. And I believe we do have enough people to do it.”
Mason had thought about the strategy plenty after proposing it the day before. That Raina had not yet objected to it was encouraging, even though all of her concerns about it before had been completely valid. But really, what good strategy was there when, by all accounts, the team was going to have to operate on its own? There was nothing that could really be done to bring in backup without drawing suspicion—they were going to have to operate as the team that they were.
“Hmm,” Luke said, seeming to have the same doubts as Raina from before. “True, but that poses quite a risk. Such big search parties can be rather unwieldy to maintain. And I mean big in the sense of spread out. We’re big and small in all the wrong ways for each.”
“Look, I’m not saying we go around kicking in doors and getting the drop on bad guys all by our lonesome,” Mason said, having better prepped a response. “I’m just saying that we can get a lot done quickly just by hitting the streets at the most important junctures of the city and taking a look around.”
It’s not about doing everything solo. It’s about just getting started. We make progress, we can earn backup and support. General Thomson’s going to be much more likely to give us help if we can prove we have a perimeter—an actual perimeter—around the enemy’s base than not.
“Well—I don’t have a problem with it,” Luke said, just as Mason had expected. “Time is of the essence right now. But you have to make sure that you and your teammates see eye-to-eye—whatever it is you choose to do.”
The implication was clear, and the reference was obvious. Duke John was still rotting in a cell and would be until he was executed or died. Luke had taken his betrayal hard in large part because he had selected him for Onyx; he didn’t want to even risk the slim possibility that someone else could have been thinking the same way.
“I don’t think there’s any doubt about that,” Raina said.
That she was the one in support of this was huge for Mason, considering she had been his most vocal critic. It was also reassuring to Luke to hear, and so Raina continued.
“We got rid of the one bad apple. I don’t think there’s anyone else on this team who’s a loner. Well, except for Kyle.”
A few people snorted while Kyle just rolled his eyes with a sheepish grin. Then, from out of nowhere, a giant pitcher of beer showed up as the waitress put it smack in the middle of the table. Everyone’s eyes looked around.
That was…
“Who the hell ordered this?” Luke asked.
Everyone’s eyes, except for Kyle’s. He smirked as he reached for the pitcher, distributing cups.
“Not so much of a loner now, huh?” Kyle said.
“Damnit, Kyle,” Luke said. “What makes you think we’re going to think clearly under the influence?”
“It’s just one round,” Kyle said, almost apologetically. “I’m not looking to get us drunk. I just thought it might generate some ideas.”
Mason had some sympathy, remembering the ways he thought when he was Kyle’s age. Poor Kyle also did have to deal with being not just the youngest, but the youngest by a good amount; everyone else on the team was at least in their mid-30s.
“All right,” Luke said, acquiescing to the drinks. “This is the one round, though. We stay focused and whatever we decide tonight, we start putting into place ASAP.”
Just as Kyle and Luke had promised, the team did not get wasted or drunk—they had a professional job to do, and the idea that they would drink with a job in progress was anathema to them. Once the one pitcher and their individual drinks were finished, no one else ordered another drink.
But they did let themselves go just enough that stories got told, tongues got loosened, and reactions came out that never would have. Even Kyle and Marshal, normally the two quietest members of the team, traded funny stories. Kyle, as the youngest, had the most amusing stories, which surprised everyone—no one would have expected the computer geek to have such great party stories, but Mason had to admit that he could tell a nice tale.
Might come in handy later. If Kyle can blend in at a party, who knows?
Just so long as he doesn’t hit on my daughter again.
Eventually, the night came to an end, but not before Luke reminded the team that they had to reconvene the next day. The process was not going to get resolved in a day, and, if it was, it was going to be nothing short of a miracle. But they had to start now, because if they delayed, this wasn’t like trying to write a paper the night before it was due—it was trying to write an entire encyclopedia the night before it was due.
Kyle left first, perhaps because he was trying to hide how much the alcohol had hit him. He wasn’t staggeringly drunk, but he did have to right himself when he stood. Raina cracked a joke, but Kyle took it in stride. Once he left, Chris was the next to go, leaving Marshal, Mason, Luke, and Raina.
“Tomorrow,” Luke said, looking at Mason. “You’re going to have to put your plan into place. I don’t think we have anything else, and as long as we aren’t stupid, I don’t think we’ll make any mistakes.”
“Agreed,” Mason said. “But we have to act with urgency. I don’t think it’ll do us any good to say that we can wait a while to execute our plans. General Thomson said they’d strike around the election, but I doubt it. They won’t wait that long.”
“Agreed,” Marshal said. Then he stood. “Mason, I’m trusting you on this one. I’ll fill in as needed, but I think you’ll have a firmer grasp on things.”
“Got it,” Mason said. “Thanks, Marshal, I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t,” he said. “You’re part of Onyx. We wouldn’t have you on if we thought you would.”
Though the words weren’t majestic, they had a profound impact on Mason, who suddenly felt like he had everything he needed to save the day, or at least get the team in position to do just that. Marshal headed out the door after saying farewell to Luke and Raina. Finally, Luke looked at Mason.
“Let me guess, the general really chewed you out,” Mason said.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Luke said with a chuckle. “It’s the worst I’ve ever seen since our days in Iraq.”
“That bad?” Mason said, somewhat stunned. That had been nearly two decades ago.
“Yep,” Luke said. “But I understand it. We don’t need an attack on America at a time like this.”
Then he stood up.
“You need anything from me, you got it, OK? No matter what. Same goes for Clara, too.”
“I appreciate it, brother,” Mason said, sharing a hug with Luke before the Onyx commander departed.
Mason started to leave before Raina held him back, grabbing his wrist. Luke looked back, but Mason nudged him to carry on. Luke did just that, not once looking back again.
“You two really click, huh,” Raina said, referencing Mason and Luke as Mason took a seat.
“Yup,” Mason said.
All of the good memories came back. Luke truly was his greatest ally in the world that wasn’t family—nothing bad could really be said.
“Back in the day when he was my sergeant, we used to spend a lot of after hours together. As dignified as he presents himself, I know he’s capable of cutting loose just like everyone else. Not that he did that entirely tonight, but I think he showed a more human side. He came down to a bar and spoke to us, after all.”
Raina nodded, nibbling on her straw, not actually chewing on it. Mason took what little remained of his beer and began thinking of ways to end the night.
And then Raina continued the conversation in rather curious fashion.
“So you two used to spend quite a bit of quality time together huh?”
Mason arched an eyebrow at Raina, who seemed unfazed by his particular action. It seemed that she had thought about them, too, and she had decided to double down on her actions, most especially after the car incident.
If Mason had hoped to delay the “someday” between him an
d Raina, she seemed intent on hastening it.
“Uh—yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”
And then the boldest words yet came.
“And when are me and you going to start spending some quality time together?”
Wow, you just came out and said it.
As soon as Mason heard it, he knew he could no longer dodge the question. To do so wasn’t just rude—it would have been outright disrespectful to her. He had to give her a real answer, not just a half-baked excuse.
He cleared his throat, thought of what his gut told him, and spilled it out as it came.
“Raina,” he said slowly, speaking as the right words came to him. “You and I have been working together for awhile now, and I’ve come to greatly respect and admire you. The thing is…”
You can tell her. She’s trustworthy. She’s not Clara or Luke, but…
Tell her. Tell her everything, and be fully honest.
If you want someday to still be someday, then don’t do anything but tell her the truth.
“I’m still in a funny place with my emotions. I know it's been a while now since my wife passed—but I’m still trying to work through some things. I just need a little more time. I’m sorry if that’s not the answer you wanted, but… I can’t lie.”
Mason felt like an enormous weight had come off his shoulders as soon as he had said as much. It wasn’t perfect by any means, and he knew he’d left open a door that probably was better off just being shut entirely.
But…
It was out there now. There was no dancing around the subject as they had for a month now. He had finally just gone straight up to the question.
“It’s all right, Mason,” Raina said, seeming, surprisingly, not disappointed. “Don’t worry about it. Take as much time as you want.”
It wasn’t so much that she liked the answer as she seemed to understand he was being fully honest. There was nothing unspoken, nothing confusing about what he’d said. Admittedly, again, he didn’t like that there was room for future ambiguity, but for now…
