by J. B. Havens
Flynn raised his hand. “Yeah; do they make these suits small enough for your little oompa-loompa ass?”
“Oh, you think you’re funny, huh? Well if my team wins, you have to do a case-race with Rip-Its. If you win, I’ll do it.” Rip-It was the energy drink favored by the military. The stuff was loaded with tons of sugar and caffeine. It needed to be to keep soldiers awake on long patrols.
Flynn had seen a case-race before, where two or three men tried to drink a twenty-four pack of the stuff as fast as they could. The results were never good. “You’re on! Prepare yourself for gastro-intestinal distress, lady. Jordon, you might want to sleep somewhere else tonight.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure that won’t be necessary.” Jordon high-fived Mic.
“Questions?” Flynn shook his head no, followed by the others. “Suit up, ladies. Let’s go play. That goes for you too, Nickoli.” Mic handed him a rifle and pushed the suit on the table toward him. “You got kicked in the teeth; time to get back on the horse and show it who’s boss.”
“You Americans have the strangest sayings.” He set the rifle aside and pulled the suit onto his lap. “And this is not cold. You have no concept of what cold is.” He shivered at the memory of his time spent in Siberia.
“Everyone get ready and meet in the yard.” Mic pointed to a couple of plastic crates in the corner and left the room with her suit and rifle in hand.
Chapter 2
I slipped on the lightweight, but stiff, suit over leggings and a thermal long-sleeved shirt. The suit was tight, hugging each line of my body like it’d been made for me. The electrodes were spaced through the fabric every eighth of an inch. They were very small and woven directly into the material. The boots were the only part of the suit that would not register a hit. I put on the helmet that looked just like a full-face motorcycle helmet; it was hot and tight. I could hear my breaths and feel my heartbeat in my ears. Flipping the clear plastic visor up helped a little, but it was still hellish claustrophobic.
“Ready?” Jordon asked from the doorway, his helmet in hand. I had to admit, the tight pants did wonders for his… assets.
“As ready as I’m gonna get. Let’s go have some fun.” Grabbing the yellow rifle, I walked outside with Jordon. Lined up in the yard, the guys all looked like rejects from Halo. With their faces and heads completely covered it was hard to tell who was who. “Okay, let’s split into teams. I’m the captain of the red team and Pierce is the captain of blue. Everyone fire your weapon; the color of the laser is your team.” Flynn, Jones, Pierce, and Rook made up team blue. Jordon, Nickoli, and I were team red. The snow was around eight inches deep. Just enough to be a real pain in the ass. We’d been tracking through it for days, so following tracks would be useless. The whole property was crisscrossed with footprints. In addition to the paintball area and obstacle course, there was an expansive garden with plenty of places for concealment.
“What’s our objective?” Rook raised his visor as he spoke. “Kill the other team or is this more capture the flag?”
“Kill.” Laughing at his excited expression, I continued. “Seriously wound or kill all members of the opposite team. You have one extra person, so blue team goes out first. You get a head start of one minute. Fair?”
“Copy that. Turn your backs,” Pierce commanded, huddling together with his team. We did the same.
“Okay guys, ready?” I spoke in our huddle. “Jordon you take point, Nickoli you’re in the middle, and I’ll bring up the rear. Stay in formation. They’ll put Jones somewhere and try to snipe us, so keep in cover as much as possible.”
“Why don’t we split up and try to sneak up behind them?” Nickoli shifted his weight, trying to get a better footing in the snow.
“Jordon?”
“I’m with Nickoli. We’re outnumbered, so we should use the terrain to our advantage, hide, and take them out one at a time.”
“Sometimes not being in command anymore really sucks. Okay, that’s what we’ll do then.” Standing up and stepping back from the others, I signaled to Pierce that I was ready to go. “On my mark, you guys have one minute before we come after your candy asses.” I didn’t look at them, just the dial on my watch. The second hand ticked to the twelve and I gave Pierce a thumbs up.
“Go!” In seconds, Pierce and the others were out of sight, nothing but scattered footprints in their wake.
Again, the second hand made a cycle. “We’re up, boys.” Shouldering my rifle, I went straight ahead, toward a stand of snow encrusted trees. Jordon and Nickoli peeled off, going right and left. The crunch of my boots in the icy snow was the only sound. Occasionally, chunks of snow fell from the trees with a plop. My breath was a white cloud in front of my face. The wind was picking up and blowing the trees around, the branches creaking with the force. The area was full of eight-foot tall hedges, almost maze like. Boulders, trees, and trenches made it a dream to play in with plenty of places to hide.
To my right, I spotted the top of a white helmet. Dropping to my hands and knees, I crept closer, carefully placing my palms and knees well away from any branches. Flattening down onto my belly, I peeked through the bush in front of me. Flynn was standing on the other side facing me. I moved a few inches more, trying to get into a good position. Rising to my knees, then up to a crouch on the balls of my feet, I jumped forward. Knocking Flynn flat and bringing my rifle up quickly, I shot him in the chest. His suit lit up orange and blue, the colors brighter than I expected.
“Dammit, Mic!” He cursed as I got off him.
“You’re dead; go back to the field and wait for us.” I helped him to his feet and moved on. He’d given away my position and I needed to move.
“Fine. Ruin my fun already. What do you care?” He kept bitching until I was too far away to hear him.
Shouldering my rifle again, I advanced, clearing my section. Off to the left, I heard a shout and the pop from an electronic rifle. Quickly and carefully moving forward, I kept one eye on the trees, knowing that Jones was in one of them. I approached a hedge with a trench on the other side and considered my next move—lie in wait and ambush or advance? Dropping to my stomach, I kept my rifle out in front of me and carefully shifted a branch in the box hedge. From what I could see of the trench, it looked empty. I army-crawled forward, dropping down into the gully and landing in a crouch. Snow stuck to the visor of my helmet, blocking my line of sight. Wiping it off with a gloved hand, I turned left and followed the curve of the depression.
Seeing Jordon in front of me, I made a clicking noise with my tongue, alerting him to my position. He raised a fist, ordering me to stop. We were stuck at a blind corner, so I stacked in behind him and placed my hand on his shoulder. He reached back and tapped me twice on the thigh, letting me know that it was clear to move. The crunch of icy snow beneath our boots was loud in the otherwise silent landscape, the sound nearly echoing in the long expanse of the trench. Pierce was up ahead on the left, using the side of the ditch as a prop for his rifle. Jordon took a step in his direction, but I jerked him back. Something was up. No way would Pierce expose himself like that.
Jordon glanced back, meeting my eyes and widening his own in question. “It’s a trap,” I mouthed silently. Understanding crossed his features and he nodded. It was my turn to lead, getting us back behind the blind corner. Using hand signals, I told Jordon to cover me and follow. Hauling myself up and over the side of the trench on the opposite side from Pierce, I pivoted and covered him as he pulled himself up and out. Using a series of hedges and boulders for cover, we headed back to Pierce’s position. Seconds later, we had an elevated view of him. Tapping Jordon’s arm, I pointed ahead of us. Nearly hidden and in a perfect spot to take out anyone sneaking up behind Pierce was Rook. I pointed to myself, then Rook, leaving Pierce for Jordon.
We moved together, two halves of the same whole. Operating in the field with Jordon was easy. Our minds were in sync, knowing exactly where the other would be—two sides of the same coin. As soon as I was within range o
f Rook, I waited for Jordon to get set. I felt more than saw him ready himself. As one, we fired. Blue and orange lights glared against the snow as both Rook and Pierce looked up in surprise.
Waving and smiling sweetly, I hopped down into the trench and lifted the visor of my helmet. “Yo, how’s it hanging?” Chuckling at Pierce’s stunned expression, I waited for him to respond.
“Thought I had you when you two came up behind me.” Letting his rifle lay across his arms, he was relaxed.
“I sniffed out your trap. You’re not dumb enough to leave yourself exposed like that. Then again, maybe you are.” I pointed to the bright orange kill shot over his heart.
“Jones still in it?” Jordon spoke from behind me.
“No. He and Nickoli took each other out earlier. We’re done.” Rook joined us in the trench, taking his helmet off completely as he spoke.
I did the same. I’d rather be cold than stuck in the claustrophobic tin can any longer. “So, red team wins. I better go get that case of Rip-Its ready.” Together we walked off the course, the others joining us as we crossed the field back to the castle. Flynn’s groans of defeat were music to my ears.
“Best two out of three!” He begged.
“No one likes a sore loser, Flynn. Man the fuck up, you pussy,” I shot back as we all bent to take off our snow-covered boots. The others headed upstairs, presumably to change. I stripped off my gloves and jacket, but left the pants on.
The great room was transforming. A colorful Christmas tree was up with half of the ornaments hung. Garland and swags of ribbon cascaded from the fireplace. Stockings dangled over the crackling flames. Warming my hands by the fire, I let the smells and bright colors of Christmas settle upon me. My thoughts naturally traveled back to last year—the tree in the mess hall, Flynn in his Santa hat, and my friend Phillips, opening his colorfully wrapped box, the Sig Sauer emblem lighting his eyes with wonder. The leather trench coat that the boys had gifted me hung in the closet upstairs, unworn.
A warm hand on my shoulder startled me from my memories. “You okay, babe? You went somewhere for a minute.”
Gripping his hand, I allowed a sad smile to break free. “Just thinking of last Christmas. Phillips was there.”
“I miss him too.” Chris’s green eyes glowed as he stared down at me. Compassion and understanding reflected from their depths. “This is the first real Christmas I’ve had since I joined up. After Mattey… we didn’t do much for the holidays.”
“This is a new beginning. We’ll have a big Christmas every year. We’ll remember them and honor them—never let them be forgotten.”
No more words were necessary. He slid his big arm over my shoulder and watched the flames with me. Together, yet apart, we let ourselves sink into the memories of years past and loved ones who had come and gone.
****
Nickoli slipped off his leg and the gel sleeve underneath it. Red marks crisscrossed his stub, adding to the painful sensitivity he always felt. Downstairs smelled of pine and spice, conjuring up images of his last Christmas with his family. He remembered the lights and heavy incense in the air of the church and the gilded frames and glimmering halos of the saints looking down upon them. That Christmas and New Year’s holiday were the last he had experienced with his full family. By the following spring, their lives had changed forever. On April 26, 1986, nuclear reactor number four at the plant in Chernobyl suffered a catastrophic meltdown and explosion as the result of a failed experiment by the engineers. His father was one of the men killed that day. His mother suffered a high dose of radiation in the disaster and died of lung cancer seven years later. Orphaned, he stayed with an aunt on his mother’s side who only took him out of obligation. As soon as he was eighteen, he joined the military and didn’t look back. Training and missions had taken up most of his time. He hadn’t had the chance to miss home and he had rarely been alone. His team had always been with him, a tight-knit family. He could see that it would be the same way with Steel. Stretching out on his bed, he set the alarm for an hour later, when it would be his turn to watch the security feeds. In the meantime, he needed to rest. The exercise in the snow had weakened him more than he cared to admit.
Chapter 3
The giant wooden front door banged open, causing the cold wind to blow in and sparks to shoot up from the roaring fire into the chimney in a colorful dance. The wreath on the door slapped against the wood with the frigid blast as the door hit the stone wall.
“What the actual fuck!” Pierce jumped to his feet, followed closely by the others—weapons drawn and assessing the threat.
I was standing and didn’t remember doing so. My adrenaline spiked even higher as I stared in shock at the man in the doorway. Fuck me… “Put away your weapons; he’s not a threat. Not to us anyway.” My men looked at me in confusion, but followed my orders.
Our unexpected visitor smiled at me, his purposefully empty hands exposed. “Honey, I’m home!” He shouted, shutting the door behind him as if he was a regular guest and didn’t have guns pointed at his head. “What, no hugs?” T. Carter—United States spy, mystery man, and my friend—stood in the doorway. His face reflected amusement and delight at our response. He lived for this shit.
Jones rounded the corner into the great room at a run, his sidearm up and ready, but skidded to a stop when he spotted Carter. “Mic, there was an alarm, but it stopped before it went off the whole way. Who the fuck is this?”
“An old friend.” That’s exactly what he was, it was both that simple and that complicated. “I’m sure he has some super-spy trick to bypass the alarm. Don’t worry, Jones, I’ll make him tell you later.”
Realizing we weren’t under attack, Jones left the room as fast as he’d entered it, muttering under his breath about rude people interrupting his coding.
I holstered my M9 and walked toward Carter, a giant grin pulling at my scar slightly. His broad shoulders filled out his black pea coat perfectly, the collar up around his neck for warmth. Blue jeans hugged his long legs and his feet were clad in snow-covered boots.
“Carter.” I couldn’t manage more past the lump in my throat. I stood a mere foot away, but his blue eyes found the scar immediately and pain filled his gaze.
“Oh, sweetheart. What did he do to you?” The backs of his knuckles were soft against my cheek as he traced the line of the scar to my mouth. I licked my lips involuntarily. Memories of him were rushing to the forefront of my mind—his hot lips and the feel of him holding me in the night. We’d never had sex; what we’d had was far more intimate. His eyes met mine again. “I almost didn’t believe it when I heard. I was in London on some business and came up here as soon as I got the full story.”
“He got his. He’s dead and buried.” I placed my hand over his on my cheek, holding it there.
Growling, Carter pulled me close, tucking me against his chest and burying his face into my hair. The wool of his coat was both warm and scratchy against the sensitive skin of my face. For a brief moment, it was as if the room around us fell away. I let myself surrender and accept his comfort. “Liam told me everything. About Mexico, Russia, all of it. Why didn’t you call me, you stubborn ass?”
“I couldn’t risk involving you. We’ve been branded as traitors. We can never go back to the States. This is home now.” I pulled back, but his arms tightened, not letting me go far.
“Would someone care to explain what the fuck is going on here? Mic, who the hell is this guy?” Pierce was furious, his face red and his fists clenched.
“I better introduce you to my men before they gut you and ruin my carpet.” Turning around to face the room, Carter kept his arm slung over my shoulder. Looks of confusion and anger greeted me. Thankfully, Jordon was still upstairs and had missed the intimate exchange. “Guys, this is T. Carter and don’t ask me what the T stands for. He won’t tell. He and I worked with Phillips on our very first mission. Back when Steel was a baby.”
“So, what’s with the touchy-feely crap then?” Flynn snapped as he
advanced on us.
I felt Carter stiffen slightly, then just as quickly relax. “This is Flynn; he’s our pilot and resident smart-ass.”
“Well, Flynn, if you think that was touchy-feely, you haven’t seen anything yet.” Carter’s arm tightened around my shoulder and he spun me around. At the same time, his other arm gripped my ass cheek, pinching slightly. Dipping me backward, his lips descended. I had a split-second to think oh shit before he was kissing me. He groaned and swiped my closed mouth with his tongue, humming until I opened it. Jordon’s face flashed into my mind.
“What the mother fuck!” Jordon’s voice, full of fury, boomed throughout the stone room, echoing around us.
Carter took his time letting me go, drawing it out and caressing his fingertips down my arms. “That was a hello to an old friend.” Looking sideways at me, he raised an eyebrow and ignored my scowl. “Is he yours?”
“Yes. This is Chris Jordon.” I hesitated, wanting to call Jordon my boyfriend, but it was so much more than that. We belonged to each other.
“Bea?” Jordon was furious.
“Chris, he’s just fucking with you. I bet he knew about you before he even got here.” I elbowed Carter in the gut, his oomph satisfying. “Right?”
The bastard knew that he was pushing Jordon’s buttons and didn’t care. “Of course Liam told me about you two lovebirds. Didn’t I tell you you’d find someone, Mic? Glad to see you followed my advice.” He strode forward to Jordon purposefully. “You’re a lucky man. She’s an amazing woman.” Carter held out his hand and waited patiently for Jordon to take it.
