Learning to Stand :: Chapter Thirty ::

CHAPTER THIRTY

“And what should that mean to me?”

“My sister was sitting on a bench, you know, at the cemetery on the year anniversary…”

The detective stopped at the gates. Everyone passed forward their identification for the guard to check. After a few minutes, the guard returned with their identifications. Leaning into the car, the guard gave Alex an envelope.

“Maps from your Sergeant,” the guard said before he waved them through security.

The detective turned onto Tower Road. He was silent until they reached I-70. Turning onto the highway, he said:

“My sister was sitting on this bench when a woman sat down next to her. The woman had brown hair and was very thin. My sister said the woman was disguised by dark glasses and oversized military clothing. The woman said…”

“There’s nothing worse than fighting your way to a hostage only to find him dead,” Alex said. “Her husband.”

“Yeah,” The detective said. “She said you gave her his wedding ring and watch. She was crying so hard she didn’t say ‘Thank you’ or ask you if you buried him or where you buried him or even who you were.”

“Army brass never wanted us to give the families the effects of the dead hostages. Give away sensitive information or whatever,” Alex said. “We always did… I always did. I guess I’d want to have my husband’s ring and watch. Something to hold that belonged to him.”

“The watch was a family heirloom. Their son’s fifteen now. He wears it every day. But…”

“But?” Alex leaned her head against the head rest of the seat. This sad conversation brought her exhaustion to the forefront of her mind.

“Well, she’s wondered how he died, if he suffered, and if you buried him and mostly, she’d like you to know how grateful she is. She lights a candle for the ‘mystery woman’ every Christmas.”

“Let’s see. I’m not quite sure how he died because he was dead when we got there. I assume it was malnutrition because they were literally starving to death. There were not obvious signs of physical trauma, but there often aren’t. Is that helpful?”

“Yeah,” the detective said. “I… yeah. He was never very strong. That’s why he wasn’t a police officer or anything. He was an engineer. Oil and gas.”

“I remember,” Alex said.

“Did you bury him?” the detective asked.

“Yes, there were two on that mission,” Alex said. “We buried them both. We marked them with GPS. With the 9/11 changes, the information would have become classified.”

The detective nodded.

“How was he buried?”

“Our intel said he was protestant. We buried him the best we knew how.” Alex sighed. “We weren’t experts at burials or ceremonies. Mostly captors keep their hostages alive or barely alive. There’s no reward in a dead hostage. Your brother-in-law’s death was a big deal to us. We wanted to bring the bodies home but we couldn’t. We had hiked three days into the middle of the jungle. We weren’t sure we’d get the surviving hostages out, let alone ourselves. We ended up sending the hostages back with our medic. It was another week before we got out.”

“Will you show me where he’s buried?” the detective asked as he turned off I-70 onto Colorado Boulevard.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Alex said. “Make these bullshit accusations go away and I’ll show you where your brother-in-law’s buried.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“That’s negotiation. You’re asking me to divulge classified information about a classified situation,” Alex said. “You have enough experience as a police detective to know my situation is bullshit. I never provoked Robert Powell to do anything, except the job he was paid to do. He is a predator plain and simple. You must know that.”

The detective was silent the rest of the way back to her South City Park home. He pulled up to the house then went around letting the men out of the back. Alex was half way to the house before she turned and went back to the car.

“If I was a different person, I would sue you and your department for harassment. Blackmail my ass.”

With the detective sputtering at her back, Alex walked toward the entrance to her side of the rooming house. She was almost to the door when John came running out. He lifted her into his arms to carry her.

“Gentlemen, I’m taking my wife,” John said to Trece and White Boy. “There’s nothing you can…”

At that moment, John saw James. John’s mouth dropped open and his eyes filled with tears. As if to protect her, he shifted Alex closer to him.

“Johnny!” James said.

“Jimmy? How…?”

“He’s James Bond,” Trece said. “Can you believe it? You remember James Bond from Prague?”

John looked down at Alex. She nodded her head.

“You’ve met the wife,” John said. “Listen can we catch up…”

“Go ahead,” James said. “She’s exhausted. We can catch up later.”

John nodded.

“Cian and Eoin are in the kitchen. Why don’t you go in and say hello?” John asked before he entered the house.

“Cian and Eoin?” John heard James yelped with surprise.

John carried Alex through their private sitting room then up the stairwell to their room. When he set her on the bed, she was asleep. She woke up when he began taking her clothing off.

“I need a bath,” she said.

“No baths for a month, love,” he said.

“Shower with me.” Alex caught his hand. “Please.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he said.

“What about your brother?”

“My brother…” He pulled her long sleeved T-shirt and tank top off over her head. “No bra?”

“Colin made a sling for my arm with it,” Alex said. “What about James?”

“We had this very conversation last year,” John said. “This brother, like the other one, will understand my priorities. Did he ask you to marry him?”

“Yes, in Prague.”

Alex stood to slip off her filthy pants. He helped her out of her body armor then slipped a plastic bag over her ace bandage cast.

“He always said he’d marry my wife some day,” John said. “Did you say yes?”

“Not a chance.”

“God, you’re so bruised. You’ve been beaten, blown up TWICE, two surgeries and in jail this week. Alex, you need to be in hospital.”

“I can’t shower with you in the hospital.” Alex smiled the crooked smile she knew ignited him.

“Brutal use of the smile.”

John stripped off his clothing then led her to their shower. She was adjusting the water when she noticed his clear interest. She raised an interested eyebrow and he laughed.

“Without his trousers, a gentleman struggles for polite,” John said.

Alex laughed.

“I was thinking.” John pulled her toward him then kissed her lips.

“Yes?”

“There’s still a lot of fun stuff we could do without having intercourse,” he said.

“What did you have in mind?”

“A little Catholic school ‘touch mine; I’ll touch yours’ game. Surely you and Zack were quite adept at the sport.”

Alex stiffened. She shifted away from him to get a wash cloth and some Samantha purchased special bath wash. Humming to herself, she began to scrub the dirt, stress and trauma from her.

“Hey!” John almost yelled to get her attention. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“We were right here.” He moved close to her. “Kissing, skin to skin, close. Then wham, you’re inside yourself.”

“I was… washing up,” she said.

“Uh huh,” John said. “What did I say?”

“It’s …” Unable to finish the statement, Alex continued scrubbing.

“Catholic school games?”

Alex shook her head.

“I already know about you and Zack,” John said. “So what’s the problem?”

“What do you know about me and Zack?” she snarled at him.

“Well… I mean he and you…”

Alex scowled at him. Turning away, she began washing her hair with one hand.

“This is not going like I planned,” John said. Grabbing her shoulders, he turned her around to him. “Stop. Please stop. I haven’t seen you in days. We’ve had such an awful week. Please. I love you. I thought we’d share a laugh and you could get some rest.”

Alex sighed. She closed her eyes then nodded. When she opened them, John was kneeling holding her right hand. She watched him kiss her hand.

“I’ve missed you so much this week. I simply cannot bear it if you shut me out.”

She nodded.

“You’re still wearing your ring.” He touched the sparkling diamond band. “Did you miss me at all?”

“Only every moment,” she said. “I haven’t signed my reup papers. Sitting on my lovely cot in the palatial Air Force jail, I decided I’d rather be a rich surgeon’s wife.”

“That’s very nice.” Standing, John hugged her. “You say the most wonderful lies.”

“I’m dead serious.”

“You’d go barking mad in about three days,” he said. “Nail appointments, shopping for the perfect thing to wear, managing the help, and…”

She kissed him quiet.

“I love you as you are,” he said. “Crazy life and all.”

“You say the nicest things,” she said. “You were going to show me Catholic games?”

“Yes. At my Catholic school, we didn’t want the sin of fornication on our record. But we were frisky little buggers.”

“We know you were.”

“That’s definitely true. We played these games. Show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

“We’re a tiny bit past show and tell. Plus, we…” Alex pointed to John then herself. “We are married. No sin here.”

“Thank God.” He kissed her.

“What happens next?”

“I’ll show you,” he said. He put her hand on him.

“You know, I’ve done this before,” she said.

“I would think so.”

“With you.”

“Ah yes, that’s true as well.”

“What about your part?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” he said.

His surgeon trained hands began to work on her soft sensitive areas. With her nipple in his mouth, her heat and passion began to rise. She was very close when, pressed against the shower wall, he caught her mouth with his. Together, they reached explosive release. They had to hold each other up against the tile.

“Wow,” Alex said. “Is it always this… powerful?”

“No love, that was quite special.” He kissed her nose. “I see stars.”

“I wonder why.”

“It’s been a few days. You’ve been under an enormous strain. I almost died of boredom in my class. You’ve been ill. I’ve been worried.” John kissed her lips. “Complaining?”

“I think we should try again,” she said.

“Oh love, you have to rest,” he said. “You’ve people to interview, work to be done and…”

He grabbed a bar of soap to begin cleaning up. Within moments, they were kissing.

“Alexandra, my love, we can’t. We…”

They were off again.

FFFFFF

One hour later
Sunday night
March 30 – 9:00 P.M.MDT

Denver, CO

After making certain Alex was sound asleep, John wandered downstairs to the kitchen. He found Cian, Eoin and James baking cookies, drinking Guinness, and laughing.

“Is she asleep?” Cian asked in Ulster Gaelic.

John nodded his thanks to Eoin when he gave him a Guinness.

“We made the yanks leave,” Cian said. “They went… Where did they go?”

“Shooting range,” James continued in Ulster Gaelic. “They think they will win a special prize or something while Alex is asleep.”

“Max went?” John asked in Ulster Gaelic.

“They don’t think much of the Maxwell,” Eoin said.

Cian, Eoin and John laughed.

“Why is that funny?” James asked.

“Max is every bit as good as Alex. It’s a joke between them. There’s no file on Max Hargreaves. He’s underestimated.”

“He likes that,” Cian said.

“What?” James asked.

“Being underestimated,” John replied.

“Here’s an interesting fact,” Eoin said. “Johnny, did you know that your brother, James here, sells magazine adverts like our Alex? My guess is he works for the British branch of the same company.”

Cian and John laughed.

“I never said Alex and I worked for the same company,” James said.

Cian, Eoin and John laughed.

“Our Alex tells the civilians that she sells magazine adverts. You sell magazine adverts that means…” Eoin said.

“You’re in Her Majesty’s Secret Intelligence Service,” Cian said.

“Holy crap, Jimmy, you work for SIS!” John clapped his older brother on the back.

“Thank you for not saying MI-6,” James said. “And… I sell magazine adverts… like Alex.”

The men laughed at him.

“At least, I’m not some IRA hoodlum.” James taunted Cian and Eoin.

Like alter boys, Eoin and Cian opened their mouths as if they were shocked. Their blue eyes sparkled with innocent indignation.

“We’re washed clean in the Belfast agreement, brother,” Cian said.

“We told you we’re bakers,” Eoin said.

James looked at John. John nodded his head.

“You’re CLEAN?!? Cian Kelly and his best mate, Eoin Mac Kinney, are clean?” James exclaimed. “You know clean means: no bombs, no extortion, no under the table operations, no cigarette sales over the borders, no…”

“We are self respecting business owners,” Cian said. “We paid US taxes last year. All nice and legal. Eoin even has a soon-to-be wife.”

“Eoin? A wife?” James fell on the floor in exaggerated shock.

“That boy always had a flair for the dramatic,” Cian said.

“Where’s Maggie?” John asked.

“She’s asleep in her crate, Johnny,” Cian said. “She’s worn out from all the romping around.”

“Did she get dinner?”

“Who’s Maggie?” James asked.

“She likes you to feed her,” Cian said.

“She won’t eat from us,” Eoin said. “We tried.”

John nodded and began getting Maggie’s food together.

“Who is Maggie!?” James asked again.

John went into the shared living room and opened Maggie’s crate. Maggie came bounding out of her crate to say hello to everyone.

“Wait, that’s an English Springer,” James said.

“Johnny named her Maggie,” Eoin said.

“After PM Thatcher?”

“You catch on fast,” Cian said.

James began laughing. Eoin joined in and Cian couldn’t hold out.

“It’s a good name,” John defended his choice.

“Do you boss her around?” James asked between chortles.

“Nah,” John set Maggie’s food down. “She’s only a puppy. She’ll have to be trained up a bit.”

“Let me guess the attack word is…”

“Get those damned Kellys!” Cian and John said in unison.

James spit his beer over the kitchen floor. Eoin clapped James’s back as he coughed up the rest of the beer. Cian threw James a towel to clean up the mess.

Eoin retrieved the last tray of lemon drop cookies from the oven. The brothers and their friend laughed, ate cookies, drank beer, and played with Maggie the rest of the night.

As if by design, the men returned from the shooting range at the same time Raz’s ambulance pulled up to the house. While John signed the necessary papers, the men helped carry Raz down to his basement room. A flustered Samantha showed up about a half hour later, and everyone settled in for the night.

F