Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

October 22 – 2:45 P.M.
Northern Scotland

“Yes Father. We will be there right away,” Rita Kelly Drayson said into the telephone. “Thank you, Father.”

Setting the phone down, she turned to her sons.

“Get ready for church. Tomás?”

“Yes Rita, I’m going,” he said from the other room.

John sat in the living area reading a novel. He had been in a foul temper all day. Today, he was supposed to get married again. Today was his thirteenth wedding anniversary. Today, he was sitting on this couch reading some moronic adventure novel. Alone.

Why wasn’t he with Alex?

“It’s not safe.” Alex said that twice a day when they spoke on the phone. “Wait until we can come and get you.”

Protected like a Goddamn child. He tried to leave twice but was blocked at every turn. Tom just shook his head at him.

“John, you know that we are needed at church this afternoon. Father Callum called to say that we are needed earlier than he thought.”

“Have a great time,” John said.

“John Kelly, you get up and get ready for church.” Rita’s face was bright red and her finger pointed like a dagger at his chest. “I don’t know where you have been or who you think you are, but our priest called and asked specifically for our help. You get your arse up and into the shower. Johnny, you smell like a tramp.”

“But Rita! God damn it. I can’t do it… Not today.”

“You will not take the Lord’s name in vain in this house.”

“Get ready, boy,” Tom said coming out in his Sunday best.

“If Johnny doesn’t have to go,” Will, the youngest boy, whined, “why do I have to go?”

“John has to go,” Tom said. He pushed Will back to his bedroom. “John, get off that couch and into the shower. NOW.”

With a sideways smile, Fionn, the second son, scooted into the bathroom.

“It’s occupied,” John said.

“Use our bathroom,” Rita said. “GO NOW! You are worse than a four year old.”

John stomped to the bathroom. While they went to Mass every week in Denver at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, they weren’t connected to the parish. If he was in Denver, no priest would call their house and disrupt their day. If he was in Denver, he would be with Alex. He sulked through a quick shower.

He had let himself go since coming to Scotland. His hair was a long curly mess and he had grown a beard. Wiping the steam off the mirror, he made some effort to comb his hair finally giving up. Who cared? He didn’t need to look like anything for anyone. He certainly wasn’t going to be kissing anyone. They should be glad he didn’t smell. He pulled clean clothing over his wet body then followed the family out of the house.

“Will you get in the car?” Rita yelled from the front door.

“What are we doing?” John asked.

John slammed the door shut and stalked to the Range Rover.

“Does it matter, John?” Rita said. She was still angry with him. “I’m glad our mother died before seeing what an elitist jerk you’ve become.”

John watching the Scottish highlands pass outside his window.

“I’m sorry Rita. You are absolutely right. I’ve been a complete arse,” John said.

Danny, the oldest son, looked at John then at his mother. He had to look away to keep from laughing.

“Yes, you have,” Tom said.

They drove in silence to the church. There were no vehicles in the parking lot. The family fell out of the Range Rover and walked toward the small chapel. The building was quiet.

Tom pulled the door open, then by plan, John walked first into the chapel. In the dim light, he saw a familiar figure standing near the door.

“It’s about time,” Max said. “I thought you’d never get here. And you look like crap. Come on, we have a lot to do.”

“Max?” John asked. He looked at his best friend then at Tom and Rita. Max hugged the confused John.

Tom winked at John.

“Love you Johnny.” Rita kissed his forehead. They hugged.

“Where’s your mum?” Tom asked Max.

“She’s in there. My father, Patrick, is waiting for you and the boys. Rita, your dress is in with Alex.”

Max nodded his head toward a door near the back of the entryway.

“Alex is here? Where is she?”

John ran to the door Max had indicated only to find himself nose to nose with the massive Trece. Trece held a machine gun and wore dark glasses.

“Get out of my way,” John said.

“I can’t do that, John,” Trece said. “It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

“Groom? Bride?” John fell back. “Wait. What? We’re getting married?”

“I will not marry you, John. Not now. Not ever. Stop asking.” Trece raised his dark glasses so that John could see his intense dark eyes. “She’s been through hell to make this happen.”

“We all have,” Raz said coming out the door. He hugged John.

“Let her have this.” Trece dropped the dark glasses over his eyes. “She deserves it.”

“I… but…” John started.

“Come on, John,” Max said. “I have your tux. But you’re a mess. You know that Alex won’t kiss you with that beard. If you want to marry my sister, we’ve got to get you cleaned up.”

Raz put his hand on John’s arm. John looked at Raz then at Max and laughed.

“Our area is over here.” Fionn pointed to a door on the other side of the entry. “We have tuxes too! There’s a big guy inside called the White Boy.”

“Everyone knew?” John looked at Tom.

Tom nodded. “Come on, boy, let’s get dressed in our monkey suits.”

John shook his head. Opening the door to the men’s dressing room, he felt like he was walking back into his life. No, not his old life but a whole life, his whole life, a place where Tom and Rita and Alex and Max could live together.

Matthew raised a hand to John but did not look up from his card game with Troy and Colin. The White Boy was flexing his biceps for an entranced Will. Cian and Eoin were laughing at something Danny said.

Raz pushed John into a chair and trimmed two weeks of curly hair from his head. Looking a little more like himself, John took the clippers from Raz. Going into the small restroom, John shaved his beard with the clippers. Fionn gave John the razor and shaving cream he swiped from the bathroom. With special care, John shaved off the rest of his beard.

He was going to kiss Alex today.

John smiled at himself in the mirror. He had been such an ass.

“Will you get dressed?” Tom laughed. He gave John a shot of Irish Whiskey.

While the men talked or played cards, Max passed John the tux one piece at a time. Adjusting the cummerbund, John realized that this was the tux he had altered in Paris at least forty years ago… three very long weeks ago. Without looking up from his cards, Colin threw cuff links to John. Once they were dressed, Tom Drayson made a toast and passed out cigars.

John was excited, breathless with anticipation for the ceremony, and to simply look at Alex. Laughing, John joined the card game.

FFFFFF

October 22 – 4 P.M.

Northern Scotland

Rebecca stood outside the bridal changing room watching the guests arrive for the wedding. There weren’t many, certainly not as many guests as she had invited to the Cathedral. Only family or very close friends could be trusted to attend this wedding since most of the wedding party was supposed to be dead.

She nodded her head in greeting to John’s biological father and his wife. He stopped for a moment to introduce Rebecca to his wife. Rebecca blushed when he kissed her hand. That is a very attractive man.

Joseph and Nancy Walter stopped for a hug. Joseph said they were taking a second honeymoon. Nancy beamed at Joseph and he laughed. Freedom of movement was a wonderful side effect of being legally dead.

She never would have picked this place, this ceremony or these people, not in a million years. After all, it wouldn’t look right for her daughter to be married here. But this tiny church in the middle of Northern Scotland waswhere John and Alex should be remarried. She felt this in her soul.

Rebecca closed her eyes for a moment in a silent prayer of gratitude.

Rebecca smiled as Zack Jakkman and his alluring girlfriend Bestat Bahur came in the church. Bestat always reminded Rebecca of the John Singer Sargent painting called “Egyptian Girl.” Rebecca made a mental note to ask Bestat about the painting. Zack blew Rebecca a kiss, and she nodded. They were a beautiful couple.

Rebecca returned to her musing. Alex’s face and body were so badly bruised that Rebecca had to research makeup to cover the welts. Claire had a combination of foundation colors created for Alex by some makeup artist in Paris. Alex wouldn’t look like she had been beaten and tortured. Not today.

Today she was a bride.

Maria Abreu and her children stopped to chat. They were spending the week in touring the United Kingdom. Rebecca watched Maria’s eyes cloud with grief and knew how much she must long for Jesse. Rebecca held Maria to her until Maria straightened her shoulders and tucked her grief away. Rebecca kissed her cheek before they were escorted to their seat by some soldier.

They called him G.I. Joe. What was his name?

Claire and her children worked day and night to add sleeves and finish the beading on Alex’s gorgeous wedding dress. They put together lovely dresses for the four bridesmaids–Erin, Samantha, Julie and Helene. As a surprise, Claire created the most beautiful dresses Rebecca has ever seen for herself, Rebecca and Rita.

“Blue to match our eyes, Becky,” Claire had said.

Rebecca smiled remembering Claire’s use of her childhood name. Only Benjamin called her that… Benji. She was surprised at how good she felt when Claire said ‘Becky.’ Underneath all the pretense, Rebecca knew that she was Becky at heart. Alex and Max healed another relationship.

Rebecca let out a breath. Everyone stretched. Everyone worked. Seeing Alex’s beautiful beaming face just a moment ago, she knew that everything was worth it. This celebration was going to be wonderful.

Rebecca’s breath caught and her heart stopped. For the first time in decades, she didn’t care that something didn’t look right. Maybe her mother was finally dead. She smiled at the thought.

Looking over the small chapel, she realized that the guests were seated and waiting. Rebecca tapped on the men’s room then went to see Alex one more time. Her strange and beautiful daughter, the one she had been so ashamed of, hugged Rebecca and told her that she loved her. Rebecca’s eyes filled with tears.

Alex loves me.

FFFF

The organ began to play the wedding march and the wedding party lined up in the church pre-chamber. Matthew held an elbow out for Claire then escorted her to the front where Frederec and Eugene waited for her. Troy held his elbow for Rebecca and escorted her to the front. Claire smiled at Rebecca when she sat down next to her. Rebecca reached for Claire’s hand. Holding hands, the mothers waited for their Alex.

Matthew escorted Rita to the front pew on the other side where she sat beside her sons. Matthew returned to the back to stand next to Troy. Drawing their handguns, Matthew and Troy walked to the front of the church. Matthew moved across the front of the church to the left while Troy moved across the front of the church to the right. They would guard the ceremony from the front.

Colin started the procession. His blonde hair standing straight up, he escorted Julie and her tiny baby pooch to the front of the church. They separated at the front. Raz followed with Samantha on his arm. Cian laughed down the aisle with Erin. Beaming from ear to ear, Max, the best man, came down the aisle with Helene, the maid of honor.

Tom Drayson walked John to the front of the church. Tom hugged John then sat with his arm around Rita and the boys. John turned to look down the aisle into the church pre-chamber.

He did not want to miss even one moment.

FFFF

Alex stood in the bridal room alone.

“You are beautiful,” Jesse said in Spanish.

“Thanks. It’s amazing what a little makeup can do,” she said.

“My Maria looks so beautiful today,” Jesse said with noticeable longing.

“She does,” Alex said. “Jesse? I wanted to… I don’t really know how to… Thanks.”

Jesse laughed. “We’re a team. You need to get going.”

Alex nodded.

“I’ll be around,” he said disappearing.

Holding Camille’s hand, Ben came into the room. Camille carried a white basket full of pink rose petals. Her dark ringlets were held out of her eyes by a small white barrette. She wore a dress that matched Alex’s bridal gown. Another tap on the door and Patrick joined them. Patrick kissed her cheek.

“Shall I put the veil down?” Patrick asked.

“I guess so,” Alex said.

He lifted two layers of the veil and covered her face.

“Oh, you have to unhook me.” Alex held her arm out to Patrick. “Just pull on the fitting.”

Patrick lifted her cream silk sleeve to reveal the tubes, which connected Alex to her IV antibiotics.

“You won’t tell, will you?” She pleaded with Patrick and Ben not to tell John that she should wear the IV. “I’ll put it back on when we’re done.”

“I won’t tell,” Patrick said. With a firm tug, he disconnected the fitting to the IV.

“You know I won’t,” Ben said.

“Camille? Will you tell anyone about the IV?” Alex asked in French. She crouched down to look into Camille’s eyes.

Camille looked at the fairy princess called Alex and batted her huge blue eyes. She nodded then wrinkled her nose.

“I have one right here,” Alex laughed. She held an orange Tootsie Roll pop in her hand. “Your Maman said you could have this when you get to the front of the church.”

“Oui. Ne dirai pas.” Camille wasn’t going to tell either.

“We’ll put this in your basket.” Alex slipped the candy into Camille’s white basket.

Holding her rosebud bouquet in her hand, Alex took Ben’s arm then took Patrick’s arm. They walked into the pre-chamber of the church.

Ben gave Camille a little push and she started down the aisle. She threw a handful of petals on one side then weaved forward to throw a handful of petals on the other side. She threw another handful of petals and picked up some petals in her hand. Noticing Helene at the front of the church, Camille ran forward, the petals falling unnoticed from her basket and her hand.

“Look what I have,” Camille said in French. She held the orange Tootsie Roll pop out to Helene. Turning to her mother, she pleaded, “Maman?”

Laughing in the front row, Claire said, “Oui.”

Helene lifted Camille into her arms. Throwing the wrapper on the floor, Camille stuck the candy in her mouth.

“Please rise,” Father Seamus said.

Everyone stood. Turning toward the church pre-chamber, a gasp went through the crowd. Alex was absolutely stunning.

Moving slowly down the aisle, she nodded, winked and smiled to the friends and loved ones in the pews. She shyly lowered her head when they approached John.

Stopping at the front, Alex turned to Ben who raised one layer of her veil then kissed her cheek. Turning to Patrick, she smiled as he raised the last layer. He touched her chin, then kissed her face. He slipped into the pew after Ben.

Alex turned to John. The blue of his eyes was all but consumed by his black pupils and his mouth was slightly open. Blushing at his reaction, her lips turned upward.

Before her lips could form the crooked smile, Father Seamus began the service.

FFF

October 23 – 1 A.M.

Northern Scotland

“What is it, love?” asked John as he came up behind her.

Alex was standing in her pajamas at the front window of the cottage. Somehow escaping John’s notice, Rita and Tom converted a sheepherder’s cottage to a honeymoon escape for them. Turning, she reached her arms around his warm naked body.

“I like to see out,” she said, “especially at night.”

John put his hands around her face and kissed her.

“When we get home, I’ll build you a porch off our bedroom where you can watch the stars.”

“We’d need to get a home first.”

“Max, didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“He found an old boarding house about a block from our old house. It is very large and dilapidated. The building is in foreclosure and has been vacant for most of the last year. We’ve been negotiating with the bank this week. They are thrilled to be rid of the building and gave us a great deal if we close in two weeks. We should be able to move into at least one area of the building by New Year’s. We’ll live together.”

“Are you all right with the loss of space? You wanted your own space, your own house. It’s why we bought the other house.”

“My priorities have shifted quite a bit in the last few months,” he said. “When remodeled, we’ll have two separate living spaces with a common kitchen, living area and dining area. The basement will be contiguous with it’s secret office, entertainment room and guest rooms. Don’t tell Raz, but we’re planning to convert the carriage house into a loft apartment for him. It’s a bit of a surprise.”

“How do you know all of this and I don’t?”

“Max didn’t want to bother you. You’ve been in the hospital. Christ, Alex, you’re still on IV antibiotics. You should still be in the hospital.”

“Kiss me again.”

Melting at his touch, she buried her head in his arms.

“I’m sorry about losing the ring,” she started.

John laughed, rocking her in his arms.

“I don’t care about that anymore,” he said. “Would you like another one?”

She kissed his neck.

“Honestly?”

He nodded looking into her dark eyes.

“I love this band.” Alex pointed to the thin gold band she had worn every day for almost thirteen years.

He smiled then hugged her again.

“Why don’t I stay up with you?” John asked. “I can tell you everything you would like to know about mending fences and cleaning sheep stalls. If you’re nice, I’ll flex my muscles for you again.”

“Oh Mr. Kelly Drayson your biceps are huge,” she said in a mock Betty Boop. She kissed each arm.

“Two lonely weeks working on the ranch,” he said. “Wait here. Just one second.”

John went to the bedroom and pulled on a pair of pajamas. Bringing a wing back chair and a blanket from the sitting area, he opened the blinds and sat down in the chair.

“Please sit with me,” he said.

Alex sat on his lap and he covered them with the blanket. He kissed her neck then held her close to him. They sat watching the night.

“Are you sleeping?”

“Not at night,” she said. “My mind has so many other things to work out in the dark.” Leaning against him, she sighed. “God, I’ve missed you.”

John smiled.

“I dreamed of you every night.” Overcome with emotion, he stopped speaking. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I thought I’d never see you or anyone again,” she said. “When I knew he was going to kill me? The first thing I longed for was you, kissing you.”

“That’s very nice,” he said. He kissed her lips. “I don’t know how long we’ll have. I’m just grateful to have one more moment with you.”

She nuzzled his neck under his chin.

“I’m different, you know. Everything is different. And yet…” she said. “I mean it’s weird. We went through so much, such difficult times and…”

“Yet we learned so much,” John said. “Yes. You know, being a doctor, having lots of money, is really not so important.”

“Being a Green Beret or a super spy is not so important,” she added.

“What’s important is family, friends…”

“And love. Yes.”

“All of these secrets. Your fathers. My history. They were stupid. I’m so sorry I hurt you, didn’t trust you. I was foolishly trying to control you, control your opinion of me. I never realized I actually kept myself from loving you fully.”

“Loving fully. I thought a lot about that when I was in the room,” she said. “I’ve hidden myself away from you so that you would never know me, all of me. I never realized you knew me all along.”

He kissed her head and held her tight. They watched the night together in silence.

Alex sighed.

“What is it, love?”

“I’m so very glad I survived… to sit right here… with you.”

F

The End

Learning to Stand, the second in the Alex the Fey series, will be published in February, 2010

The Fey is the first in a thriller series written by Claudia Hall Christian.
The novel has been serialized for your enjoyment at AlextheFey.com
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com and
StoriesbyClaudia.com every Friday.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

October 14 – 6:07 P.M.
Pike’s Peak National Forest

“You will get on your knees,” Sumit said. He pointed her gun in Alex’s direction.

Eleazar arrived at the cabin with two machine gun welding guards. After making certain Alex’s hands were handcuffed, Eleazar punched her to the ground. Alex lay face first on the ground with Eleazar’s Gucci shoe on her back. Sumit gave an embellished report on the valiant efforts of the men and Alex’s trickery. He exaggerated her easy capture. Eleazar laughed at Sumit’s elaborate description of ‘raping the infidel.’

Alex bided her time. She heard Trece’s whistle about ten minutes before Eleazar arrived. Her friends were close. They would intervene when she gave them the signal or they knew she was in danger. Right now, she was listening.

“Alex,” Jesse’s face materialized next to hers. “We still don’t know about Sumit.”

Eleazar mashed his foot against the wound on her left arm.

“I don’t like him.”

Alex blinked to indicate that she understood.

With his hands clamped around the knife wound, Eleazar pulled Alex to standing. She wobbled on sore battered legs and knocked into Eleazar. He stepped back to keep from falling. His guard slapped Alex’s face but caught the edge of the niqab instead. The scarf and head covering slipped from her head. Sumit moved forward, pressing himself between the guard and Alex, to replace the niqab.

Eleazar sneered at Alex.

As a way of displaying her submission, she bowed her head. Covered in scarves, Alex smirked. For a year and a half, this tiny man, at least five inches shorter than Alex, terrified her. Peering at him from her submissive gestures, she felt a cloud move away. Eleazar was merely a little man behind a green curtain. She survived his dangerous parlor tricks and games. She will survive him today.

Sumit and the guards were another story.

“What do you want from me?” Alex asked.

Eleazar hit her across the face. “Insolent woman. How dare you speak to me?”

Alex closed her eyes for a moment. Her tongue ran across her teeth. Nothing loose. She would have spit at him but her mouth was covered by the niqab in front of her face. She swallowed the blood that pooled into her mouth.

“What is this?” Eleazar asked holding up a Zippo lighter.

Sumit pressed the muzzle of her handgun to the back of her head.

“You will answer when spoken to.”

“It’s a lighter,” Alex said.

“How does it work?” Eleazar asked.

“Unlock me and I’ll show you,” Alex said.

She returned to her submissive stance. She felt Eleazar’s eyes scour her skull. Her only chance was if Eleazar believed that he could control her. When she felt Sumit unlock the handcuffs, she knew that she had won the first battle of deception. Rubbing her wrists, she moved the Mini-tool to a more accessible position.

With her eyes lowered, she held her hand out for the lighter. Eleazar dropped the Zippo into her hand. Flipping the hinge top off the Zippo, she flicked the round thumbwheel a couple times without success. She shook the lighter to see if it had fuel.

“I cannot work it with gloves on.”

“You may remove them, my dear,” Eleazar purred. “I’m certain you are tired. Please sit down.”

She set the lighter on the edge of the small Formica table. Pulling on one finger at a time, Alex moved the unnoticed Mini-tool toward her palm. She moved in slow deliberate movements working to keep the Mini-tool from falling onto the floor. She dropped the glove, with its hidden prize, onto her lap and picked up the lighter.

Turning the lighter over, she said, “I wondered where this was.”

“My associate took it from you after he shot you.”

“How did he manage that with my bullet in his brain?” she asked.

Eleazar’s hired gun raised his hand to hit her but Eleazar raised his hand to stop him.

“You remember?”

“I remember,” she said.

She flicked the lighter but was unable to get a flame. Something nagged at the back of her mind. Jesse appeared behind Eleazar.

“Your lighter is broken,” Jesse said. “You broke it a couple days before we were shot.”

Alex shrugged, “The lighter’s broken.”

“I am aware of that,” Eleazar said.

“How can I help?” Alex asked She bowed her head in mock submission.

“It is my understanding that this item controls an area where my property is stored.”

Alex puzzled. What is he saying? She felt movement in the room and peeked out above the niqab. Eleazar motioned the men away from them. Sitting down across from her at the table, he changed his tack.

“Listen, Alexandra, all I want is my property. It’s nothing personal. Over the last months, we’ve become such good friends. I know that you want to give me what I need.” His voice was kind and loving.

Alex nodded. Here we go. He’s trying to control me. Fucker.

“How can I help?” she asked.

“That’s the spirit. Good girl.”

Eleazar’s voice was like a caress. His hand reached across the table to hold her gloved left hand.

Alex forced herself not to show her revulsion to him. She was grateful for the robes and niqad for they covered her automatic responses. No wonder women loved wearing these things. Alex blinked.

“I wonder how your mother is doing,” Alex said.

Eleazar’s hand jerked up.

“She’s in the custody of the King of Jordan.” Alex gauged her voice for neutral keeping her eyes on the lighter. What had she done to this lighter? Something specific, she remembered that.

“My mother is dead,” he said. He stared at her bowed head.

“Not yet,” Alex said. “But execution by hanging is automatic for terrorists in Jordan. Your children, however…”

Eleazar reached across the table. Grabbing Alex’s shoulders, he shook her with force. She looked him in the eye.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Maybe you should call.”

Speaking in rapid Arabic, Eleazar requested a cell phone from one of the men. They informed him that their phones did not receive cell service in this area.

“We can get service in the clearing in the back,” Sumit said.

Alex slipped the Mini-tool up the left sleeve of the abaya and pulled the right glove onto her hand. She reached for the lighter but Eleazar snatched it from her hand.

“This is mine,” he said.

She blinked. Feeling the muzzle of a machine gun in her back, she stood. The guards pushed her out of the cabin. She stumbled, falling face first onto the ground and the guards began kicking her. In the dust and flying pine needles, she slipped the Mini-tool into the palm of her hand.

“That’s enough,” Eleazar said. “We don’t want to kill her yet.”

By the time they pulled her to her feet again, she had opened the steel arms of the Mini-tool exposing the needle nose pliers. She heard Trece’s bird whistle asking if they should respond. She shook her head slightly.

“On your knees.” Sumit pushed her to the ground.

Falling to her knees, she knew she was going to die. Sumit was going execute her in this clearing. Her life was over.

Letting out a breath, she longed for a kiss from John, a hug from Matthew, a chance to listen to Trece’s verbal diarrhea, an argument with Troy, a smoke filled conversation with Ben, a sweaty workout with the White Boy, a rolling of her eyes at her mother, a strategy session with her father, a shot of whiskey with Colin, a chance to hear Erin laugh, another moment nestled in Raz’s safe arms, a shopping trip with Samantha and more than anything, she longed for Max. Then, like a short life, the longing was gone. She resigned to her fate.

Bowing her head, she made the sign of the cross and began to pray the rosary.

Eleazar stood with his back to her. He spoke in forceful Arabic into a cell phone. He became more and more angry as the conversation progressed. Turning around, almost spinning in place, he nodded to Sumit.

Sumit cocked her handgun.

Alex closed her eyes and waited for the bullet.

Sumit pulled the trigger.

Thwook.

An arrow shot Sumit through the shoulder, rotating his shoulder back. The shot went wild.

Startled, the guards looked around for the shooter. Eleazar screamed “Kill her”. The men raised their machine guns, clicked off the safety, but never got a shot off. They fell forward with arrows through their hearts.

Silence. A slight wind blew a tree limb to creak against another limb. Eleazar’s head jerked toward the sound. Sumit pulled the arrow from his shoulder and moved back to Alex. Eleazar stood looking around him.

Rotating out the knife of the Mini-tool, Alex popped to standing. In two quick steps, she held the knife against Eleazar’s throat.

“You don’t want to do that.” Eleazar used the voice he was certain controlled Alex.

“Yeah, you know, I really do.” Alex scratched the sharp knife against his throat. A bead of blood dropped to the collar of his expensive suit. “That’s going to stain.”

Sumit’s right arm was covered in his blood. His left hand held her handgun. He fired in Alex’s general direction before another arrow shot him through the left shoulder. Screaming, he fell backwards. Alex’s handgun flew from his hand.

They heard the sound of someone walking toward the clearing. Zack Jakkman appeared through the trees. He picked up Alex’s handgun. Clicking open the magazine, he checked for bullets then cocked the gun.

“Oh. I just realized that you don’t know who I am,” Zack said to Eleazar. Holding his right hand out as if he was going to shake Eleazar’s hand, he said. “Hi. I’m Captain Zack Jakkman. They call me the Jakker.”

Eleazar jerked with surprise, “That is impossible.”

“You’re the one who thinks that friends are such a big deal.” Zack shrugged.

“You’re not going to kill me, Alexandra. You can let me go now.” Eleazar continued to work on Alex’s mind.

“No she won’t kill you.” Max stepped into the clearing with a compound bow. “But, I’d be happy to.”

“You’re dead,” Eleazar said.

“As dead as I am,” Joseph Walter said walking to Sumit. He placed his foot on Sumit’s chest. “Just stay there, asshole.”

“John Drayson or, sorry, I mean John Kelly would be here,” Troy melted from the trees with a compound bow in his hands, “but he’s with his PIRA family in Scotland. The people on the phone would be very happy to know that. Go ahead.”

Eleazar raised the cell phone to his ear then held the phone out to Max.

“This is Max Hargreaves,” Max said in Irish Gaelic. “Yes, thank you. We have him. Thank you for your help.” Max laughed then looked up at Eleazar, “Did you decide whether they should kill your oldest son or the baby?”

Eleazar let out a stream of curses.

“Yes, that’s correct. John Kelly is in Scotland. Yes, she will phone you as soon as she’s free,” Max said continuing in Gaelic. Max closed the phone. Looking at Eleazar, he said, “You must have realized that the PIRA takes care of their own. They will turn your family over to the UN Security forces.”

Trece and the White Boy appeared from the pine grove to stand beside Alex.

“You can let him go,” Trece said.

Alex turned her head to whisper in Eleazar’s ear, “You’d have to have friends to be able to control me with the idea of friends.”

As if he was a snake ready to strike, Eleazar wound back.

“Patrick Hargreaves is not your father.”

Alex laughed, kissed his cheek then let go of him. Turning away from him, she beamed and held her arms out to Max.

In one fluid movement, Eleazar pulled a small handgun from the pocket of his pants. He fired at Alex.

Trece’s hands went around Eleazar’s chin and broke his neck. He tossed Eleazar’s body to the ground.

Alex coughed, working for breath, then fell onto her back to the pine needles carpet.

Everyone moved at once.

Max dropped to the ground to hold Alex’s head. Seeing his face, she reached her hand out for him. Matthew moved her robes to find the injury. Finding her naked under the robes, Matthew slipped off his jacket to cover her hips.

“I’m a doctor,” Sumit said.

“Shut the fuck up,” Joseph said.

“He’s… a… doctor.” Alex pushed one word out at a time.

The White Boy lifted Sumit to standing and pushed him over to Alex.

“She has a punctured lung,” he said. “There is plastic wrap in the kitchen of the cabin. It will help. I assume the helicopter is near? We heard a helicopter a half hour ago.”

“I’ll get it,” Zack said. “Raz is entertaining your handler at the helicopter. He wanted to be here, but we wanted to kill you.”

Matthew ran from the cabin with a roll of plastic wrap. Tearing a strip, he placed the wrap over the bullet wound. Max helped her sit up and Matthew placed a piece of saran wrap at her back.

“You have to leave a space for the air to get out,” Sumit said pointing to Alex’s ribs. Matthew shifted the piece of saran wrap.

Alex worked to catch her breath. When she was able to breathe, she began to laugh.

“How did you…?” she asked.

“We saw the signal, the sign of the cross, but Max fired before you made the sign,” Trece said.

Alex shook her head and looked at Max.

“Tom Drayson called Ben. You were right. They know each other. John had a dream that you were shot by that guy in this clearing. John was so adamant that you were going to die that Tom thought he should call.”

“Nothing that an arrow can’t fix?” she laughed.

“Nothing that a friend can’t fix,” Trece said. “Homeland’s on the way to clean up this mess. We’ll leave that kid here, you know the G.I. Joe kid? He’s in the chopper.”

Alex made a face.

“Don’t ask,” Troy said, “or you’ll find out that he’s assigned to us.”

“Does she need a stretcher, prick?” Trece asked

“I do.” Sumit dropped to the ground.

With Max at her head and Matthew holding her hand, Alex knew for the first time in a very long time, that everything was going to be all right.

F

The Fey is the first in a thriller series written by Claudia Hall Christian.
The novel has been serialized for your enjoyment at AlextheFey.com
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com and
StoriesbyClaudia.com every Friday.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

October 14 – 3:53 P.M.
Pike’s Peak National Forest

Alex stumbled on a branch covered by a layer of snow . Her captor pushed her forward under the trees. They arrived at a small cabin. Rather than taking her inside, he pushed her around the cabin. Stumbling and walking, they reached the river about two hundred yards from the cabin. He pushed her against a pine tree.

“Turn around,” he said. “I’ll unlock them.”

Alex jumped through the handcuffs so that her hands were in front. He laughed and unlocked them.

“The entire house is monitored with video and audio by everyone including British Intelligence. No one can see or hear you here.” He pointed to the trees. “No satellite either. We can speak freely here.”

“Thanks Sumit.” Alex smiled.

“I’m sorry Alexandra,” Dr. Sumit Roy said. “You are at risk for clotting from your injuries. You need an ice bath and I cannot give you one in that monitored bathroom. The river will have to suffice. I’m sorry.”

“Sumit, what is the plan?” Alex asked.

“Eleazar will be here in two, maybe two and a half hours. In the meantime, we will dress you like a proper woman. Of course, I’m going to rape you first.”

Alex raised her eyebrows indicating that she’d like to see him try. He laughed.

“We will pretend,” he said. “I know you find me irresistible but I am married.”

Alex laughed. “How is Dalal?”

“Very well. Excited to lose a child. My eldest boy was admitted early to Harvard. He will attend next fall.”

“I can’t believe he’s old enough for college.”

“They grow up fast,” he said. “Alex, I have to stay with you while you clean up. Do you mind?”

“No.”

“You were so kind with me.” Sumit stopped talking for a moment as the memory came to him. “You gave me a warm bath, warm clothing, even held me while I shook… I cannot repay the favor.”

“I’d be grateful for some food.”

“We’ll eat a proper meal when we go inside. Rice for you. You will throw up anything else.”

Alex nodded.

“How is the wound?”

“Infected.” Alex looked at her left forearm.

“We’ll take a look at that as well. I have bandages in my pockets.”

Alex nodded. She peeled off her filthy clothing. The cabin was located over nine thousand feet. It was very cold. Taking a deep breath, Alex walked naked into the three foot high river. The frigid water shocked her to the core. Moving through the river to a deep pool, she sat down and rinsed her body with her hands. Sumit threw her a cloth and a small bar of soap. Using the cloth and soap, Alex did her best to clean up. She lay back in the pool letting the cold water numb her bruised and broken body.

“I need to burn this clothing,” he said. “I’ll set this here.”

Sumit held up the Leatherman Mini-tool then set it on a rock by the river. While Alex soaked, he built a large bonfire. One piece at a time, he burned her clothing.

“It’s time,” he said.

Moving to the bank of the river, she set the cloth and soap down. Sumit threw her a small towel. He pointed to a spot by the fire where she could warm up.

“Raping?” Alex asked.

“Ah yes,” Sumit said. “God, you are bruised. Is that from me?”

“Fucker,” Alex replied.

“Let me see the arm.”

Alex held her left arm out to him. He unwrapped the wet strips of T-shirt away from the gash and made a noise.

“Did you do this scraping?”

Alex nodded.

“Probably saved your life,” he said.

Tearing open a small packet of disinfectant ointment with his teeth, he smeared the injured area. He bandaged the arm with gauze and tape. He checked her pulse then her temperature.

“You won’t take aspirin,” he said.

She shook her head. He shrugged.

He gave her a black abaya, robes that covered her from head to toe. He gave her a black niqab, a scarf covering her face and a scarf to cover her head. Only her eyes were seen.

“Would you like me to bandage your forehead?” Alex asked.

“No, I will do it for the cameras. You need these.” Sumit gave her a pair of long black gloves.

“Sexy,” she said.

“You are not a Muslim man,” he said.

“Not today. Shoes?”

“I don’t have any,” he said. “You need to know… I will do what I can for you but… I’ve been informed that my placement in this organization is of greater importance…”

“Than my life?”

“I’m sorry.”

Alex shrugged. “They’re probably right. I will do what I can for you as well.”

“It is what we can do. Remember you have just been raped.”

Alex nodded. While Sumit put the waning fire out, she tucked the Mini-tool into a seam of her right glove.

“Shall we?” Sumit asked.

Alex nodded and they began their dance of distain.

Sumit grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the cabin. They moved from the cover of the trees. Alex stopped half way, bending at the waist and pressed her hand to her crotch as if in pain. He yanked her arm and pushed her toward the cabin. She fell forward, catching herself with her hands, then glowering at him.

He unlocked the cabin door and they moved into the one room cabin. Alex limped to a chair next to a tattered Formica table. She plopped herself into the chair while Sumit began making a mid-day meal. Resting her head on her hand, she was asleep by the time he finished cooking. He shook her awake then threw a plate of rice at her. Glowering at him, she stuffed rice into her mouth. He ignored her while he ate his meal. Standing over her, he pressed his hips toward her face, covering her from the cameras. His hand slipped more antibiotics into her mouth.

After the meal, he pulled her into the main living area where he handcuffed her to the couch. She fell asleep to the sound of soccer on television.

It would be over soon.

FFFFFF

October 15 – 1:07 A.M.
Northern Scotland

(October 14 – 5:07 P.M. Colorado)

“Wake up John,” Alex whispered.

They were backpacking through Yosemite National Park. Opening his eyes, he stretched his sore body. He blinked. Alex was naked surrounded in an almost neon blue light.

“We must rest, love. We have twelve miles uphill tomorrow” He turned over in his down sleeping bag.

“You’ll never believe what I found,” she said. “Come on.”

“And if I say ‘no’?”

“You’ll miss out.” Her words were mixed with laughter.

John unzipped his sleeping bag and worked his way out of the tent. Alex smiled at him.

“You won’t need these,” she said.

His clothing disappeared. The cold air blew across his warm skin and he shivered wrapping his arms around himself. When he opened his mouth to ask her what was going on, she smiled.

“Come on.”

Seeming to float a few inches off the ground, she took off down the trail. Even running full speed ahead, he was unable keep up with her. She waited for him like a bright blue beacon in the dark night.

“It’s here,” she said pointing to the river.

“Oh love, this water is very cold. Let’s go back to bed” He reached for her.

She laughed and stepped into the water.

“Join me,” she said. The laughter in her voice rose above the sound of the river like the tinkling of crystal bells.

Stepping into the ice-cold water, he walked along the sandy river bottom.

“This way,” she said. “Come over here.”

His skin became numb in the frigid water. A bright yellow moon moved from behind a cloud to light the way to her. He slipped into the deep pool where she was swimming.

“You’ll catch your death, love. Come out of the river with me.”

Giggling, she said, “Come to me.”

Moving forward, he felt a flush of warm water. His face must have registered shock because she laughed.

“It’s a hot spring,” she said.

The water warmed as he drew close to her. She slipped her arms around his neck. He kissed her deeply, savoring her touch and flavor. Under the bright moon, they lay wrapped around each other. Her close, naked contact and the warm water awakened his longing for her. Laughing, she moved on top of him. With the moon shining over her blue shoulder, she kissed his lips.

When he shifted to join with her, she disappeared from his arms. In a breath, her weight, warmth and closeness vanished. Certain she was teasing him, he turned to look for her in the river.

His empty arms felt the cold first. The warm flushed out of the river. He lay in ice-cold water. Storm clouds blew over the bright moon. He called her name into the wind. His eyes searched the dark for her blue light. Snow fell as he ran down the path toward their tent. He found tent windblown, empty, and cold.

Standing at the tent opening, John called Alex’s name and strained his ears for her response. The cold wind and snow finally drove him into the tent. Reaching to zip the tent, he heard voices. Still naked, he jumped from the tent and ran in the direction of the sound.

Breaking through a circle of pine trees, he came to a clearing. With her hands tied behind her back, Alex kneeled on the ground. She was dressed in black robes, the traditional dress of a Muslim woman. A man stood behind her holding a handgun to the back of her head.

John screamed her name and the man fired. The front of her skull exploded and pieces of her brain and blood splattered onto the pine needles. What had been Alexandra “The Fey” Hargreaves fell forward to the ground.

“Alex!”

John’s scream awakened the sleeping house. Jumping out of bed, he paced the length of his room. What he could possibly do? Tom pushed the door open.

“What is it, boy?”

“Alex is going to die.”

F

The Fey is the first in a thriller series written by Claudia Hall Christian.
The novel has been serialized for your enjoyment at AlextheFey.com
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com and
StoriesbyClaudia.com every Friday.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

October 14 – 12:53 P.M.
Olde Town Arvada, Colorado

“They’re coming,” Jesse said. “Three men, guns.”

Alex stopped running in place. She was warm and loose or as warm and loose as her battered and bruised body could be in this frigid room. Sitting with her back to the camera, she had made leather shoes out of bottom of her leather jacket then set to work on the slit glasses. Cutting a long strip, she sliced a thin slit down the middle of the leather. These slit glasses would act like dark sunglasses and shade her eyes from the worst of the light. She left the arms, shoulders and chest of the jacket intact for warmth and protection. Trying to gauge space in the absolute dark, she positioned herself where she thought the men would stand after coming in the door.

She also had no idea if the British Intelligence agent was working in her favor. No matter. She was prepared for any possibility.

Closing her eyes in preparation for the blinding light, she heard the men move down the hallway. Her heart pounded in anticipation when the key scratched into the lock. With a click, the dead bolt moved. Light blazed from every light fixture. Even shaded by the slit glasses, her eyelids flashed bright red.

The door moved open a crack then stopped. The bottom of the door caught on the dirty bandage set there to make them force the door. As precious seconds passed, her eyes adjusted to the light behind her eyelids.

One man rammed against the door.

Alex waited.

Two men threw their weight against the door. Jesse moved the bandage and the men fell into the room.

Alex exploded off the concrete floor. Jumping straight up into the air, she kicked her feet outward in a wide V. Her kick knocked both men backward. Still in the air, she heard someone throw what sounded like broken glass on the floor. Laughing, she landed on one covered foot. Rotating sideway, she kicked the British national in the chest. He slammed into the cinderblock wall.

She punched her right fist, covered in the leather glove and wound in razor wire, forward at turban man. He ducked her fist. He moved to punch her. She sliced the razor wire through his beard and across his throat. His face flashed shock. His hands clutched at the deep wound. Choking on his own blood, turban man fell to the floor. Before Alex could finish him, the Brit jumped her.

Rotating back, Alex punched the Brit in the face with her left fist. The Leatherman Mini-tool’s needlenose pliers, held between her middle finger and ring finger, tore at the man’s eye. Rotating her fist, she exposed the knife. With her forearm in front of her face, Alex slashed at the Brit. The young man screamed with fury. She cut his arms. When he rushed her, she let loose a powerful sidekick. Her foot smashed his larynx. He dropped to the ground.

Turning, she saw the man she had rescued from Abu Graib. He stood just inside the door with the piece of rubber hose.

“You fucker!” She rushed him.

With her left arm under his throat, she pushed him toward the brick wall. They hit the wall with a thud. Holding the knife less than an inch from his face, she said, “Where’s your boss?”

“Stupid bitch,” the man replied in Arabic. Rotating his arm, he hit her exposed ribs with the rubber hose.

Alex slashed his forehead. The five-inch flesh wound bled profusely. Breathing hard, they stood less than an inch from each other. Blood spilled into his eyes. Alex had to decide whether to kill him or trust him. Closing her eyes, her heart said trust. As if he heard her heard, he nodded. He pushed her chest and she stepped back. She rotated her right hand and the razor wire in a wide arch and he slipped from under her.

They were locked in a delicate dance. She had to fight him for the video cameras but she could not truly injure or kill him.

He had to take her to Eleazar.

Moving behind her, he batted at her back with the rubber hose. She rotated, jumping into a butterfly kick missing his face by less than a half inch. He raised the rubber hose nearly missing her head. Her front kick pushed him off her.

He pulled her Glock 9mm handgun from his pants. He pressed the muzzle of the gun against her forehead. Alex raised her hands but did not let go of the wire or knife. She let out a breath as if defeated, then raised her right knee sharply crushing his genitals.

Leaning forward into her knee, he screamed, “You think a little bruising is anything after having my nuts burned in Abu Graib?”

Cocking the gun, he fired the gun. Alex moved her head out of the way of the bullet, then punched her left hand forward. The point of the needlenose pliers stopped less than a millimeter from his face. He slapped a handcuff on her left hand. Using her momentum, he rotated her left arm behind her.

“Just stay there,” he murmured closing the second cuff over her right hand.

Stepping away from her, he pulled the leather slit glasses from her eyes. Alex closed her eyes against the light. Protected from the video cameras by his body, she folded the Mini-tool and tucked it into her back pocket. The man pulled the leather glove and razor wire from her hand. Taking a handkerchief out of his back pocket, he pressed the wound on his forehead then made a modified bandage.

“Get on your knees.” The man pushed her to the ground.

Dropping to her knees, she gasped as the glass on the ground cut into her blue jeans. The man dropped a black fabric hood over her head. Yanking her to standing, he pushed her in front of him. They went up seven creaking wooden stairs, then turned left down a corridor or tunnel. They walked what felt like an entire city block. With the handgun at her back, he pushed her up a series of wooden steps. He unlocked a door, then pushed her out into the snow.

The cold hit Alex with the force of a truck. Her feet froze through her modified shoes. She shivered in the cold while he slowly opened the van door. He pushed her inside. Falling forward onto a bench seat, her chin hit the seat. Hearing him lock the door, she rotated to sitting. He stepped into the driver’s seat. Without warning, he punched her face. Her head knocked against the seat. His hand dropped two pills into her lap. He pulled the fabric off her head.

“Antibiotics.”

She picked up the pills with her tongue. To cover her motions, he hit her with an open hand. Alex spat at him. Wiping her spit off his face, he laughed then started the car. He turned the stereo to blast Arabic music.

Alex had been in that dark room for so long that every sound, every sensation, every sight assaulted her senses. Closing her eyes, she dropped her head to her lap. Every inch of her body hurt. Even the follicles of her hair ached.

“Sick?” he said under his breath.

“Yes,” Alex replied. “Need to eat.”

“Just make you sicker. Rest while we drive. It’ll be a couple hours.”

A couple hours? Then what?

Alex smiled.

Whatever happened, she was ready.

FFFFFF

October 14 – 2 P.M.
Buckley Air Force Base, Colorado

“Sir, Arvada Police are on scene. As you know, they responded to reports of gun fire.” Alex’s Sergeant came into the conference room where Patrick, Ben, Matthew, Raz and Sean waited. “There are two men down. As we expected, they are non-nationals on Homeland’s terrorist list. Sir, the room? They said there is blood everywhere. There is a pool of blood near the door. It looks like… well, their forensics is there. I’m sorry.”

Patrick searched the Sergeant’s face wondering what he wasn’t telling him.

“And the gun shot?”

“They found a 9 mm shell in the brick wall. They do not believe the bullet hit anyone.”

“Sean, have you heard from your guy?”

“No,” Sean said. “According to Agent Rasmussen, they are driving west on the interstate. My operative has been staying at a remote cabin in the Pikes Peak National Forest. I assume he is taking her there.”

“Satellite?” Patrick asked.

“I have a picture of them leaving the building, sir,” Raz said. “She’s wearing a hood. He pushes her in the car. We can’t tell exactly but I think he gives her some pills.”

“He was going to give her antibiotics,” Sean said.

“Probably. They slap at each other in the car then he takes off. We are following them by the transmission in her hip.”

“And Eleazar?”

“He is in the country,” Ben said. “He’s taken a private jet from New York State. We believe he will land at a private air strip near the cabin.”

“What’s his travel time?”

“Three, maybe four hours.”

“So your guy will take her to the cabin, then they wait for Eleazar?” Patrick asked.

“That’s our assumption,” Ben said.

“Will you hear from your guy, Sean?”

“I might. He’s fairly safe since the other people are either dead or in Arvada City Jail awaiting transfer.”

“And the rest of the team? Matthew, when do they arrive?”

“They will touch down around four o’clock. I have spoken with the pilot and he is going to fly them to Fort Carson. They should be at the cabin by five o’clock, give or take a half hour.”

“Shall we go?” Max asked walking into the conference room.

Matthew and Raz looked up at him then Patrick.

“I can’t,” Patrick said. “US Senators don’t mobilize on targets. I’ll stay here. Sean?”

“He’s my guy. I’m going.”

“I’ll go.” Matthew stood from his seat.

“Ben?”

“I’ll stay here.”

“Sergeant?” Patrick asked.

“I think Major Drayson and the team will need me here. I can keep track of movement and the satellite. I mean no disrespect, sir, but should Max go? He’s a civilian.”

“I don’t think we can stop him,” Patrick replied.

“Then we’re leaving?” Max asked.

Raz stood, stretched and walked toward the door. Max’s face was set in an expression he recognized from Alex’s face. Max was done talking. Putting a hand on his shoulder, Raz said, “Shot gun.”

Matthew laughed and followed them out of the room leaving Sean to speak with Patrick and Ben. They were standing at the elevator when Sean caught up with them.

“Weapons?” Sean asked.

“We’re set,” Matthew said. He pulled a handgun from the holster.

“Got your forty-five?” Max raised his eyebrows at Matthew.

“Yes. You made that face at me yesterday. Why does every fucking Hargreaves make that face about my handgun?”

Raz put his hand on Matthew’s shoulder. He opened his mouth then laughed. Stepping onto the elevator, he pressed the button for the garage.

“Hargreaves family saying,” Raz said. He looked at Max.

“We’re just concerned for Erin,” Max said. Raz laughed.

“What?!? Just fucking tell me.”

“Patrick says that weapons were like penises. If you know how to use your, uh, weapon, it doesn’t matter what size it is. People only need large weapons when they can’t… well…”

Sean burst out laughing looking from Matthew’s indignant face to Max’s laughing smile.

“That’s great. That’s just great,” Matthew said as the elevator doors closed.

F

The Fey is the first in a thriller series written by Claudia Hall Christian.
The novel has been serialized for your enjoyment at AlextheFey.com
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com and
StoriesbyClaudia.com every Friday.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Thirteen years earlier

Intelligence officer in training, Sergeant Alexandra Hargreaves, walked down a dim hall in the bowels of Fort Bragg. After shaking her awake at two in the morning, the two Military Police officers, one on either side of her, kept a clipped pace through the halls. She had no idea what was going on. She only knew that they wanted her to come with them.

They reached a door at the end of the hall. Unlocking the door, they held the door open and instructed Alex to enter the room. Alex stepped inside the small room and turned just in time to see the MPs close the door. She was locked in this room.

There was a battered table in the middle of the room with a chair on either side of it. Alex dropped into a chair at the table while she looked around the room. A white board filled one wall and the other walls were bare cinder block. The room was more like an austere closet than an actual meeting or training room.

Hearing a sound, she turned to see the door open.

“I was lying in my hospital bed,” Ben said. He leaned against the closed door. “They told me that some Sergeant aced the intelligence exam. What should they do? I said, ’Give the Sergeant the test again’. How stupid can they be?”

Using a cane, he moved with obvious pain. Alex rushed to his side.

“What did you expect? They gave me situations I could have solved when I was a child,” she said.

Tucking an arm under his shoulder, she helped him to the table. He dropped into the chair she vacated.

“That may be true, but you have now tested out of Special Forces Intelligence training. Alexandra, they test you at the beginning of training so that they have something to compare to at the end of training.”

“Oh, I was supposed to blow the test? Why didn’t you tell me that? I’ll take it again. Can I take it again?”

Ben laughed.

“Are you here to take me home?” Alex asked.

“Not a chance. The CIA has dibs on anyone that does well on those exams. The Director himself is salivating over your scores.”

“I want to be a Green Beret not a CIA agent.”

“You sure you want to do this? You are moving into a world of elite intelligence. They will call you from your hospital bed and make you work.”

“I’m sorry, Ben. You know I’d never…”

“Sit down,” Ben said. He tapped a cigarette against the table. “I can’t smoke in the hospital.”

While Alex made faces at him and his habit, he bowed forward to light the cigarette.

“Tonight, you and I are going to run scenarios to make certain that you didn’t cheat on that exam. We are monitored–video and sound. If it is determined that you did cheat, you go home. If you didn’t cheat, you will join three seasoned Special Forces Intelligence officers in a class taught by me.”

“I get to take a class from you? Well… That’s great!”

“There’s a condition.”

“What?” Alex crossed her arms over her racing heart. She hadn’t been this excited since she received her acceptance letter to Special Forces training.

“You will be attached to the CIA. If we need you, and you’re available, you will work for us.”

“Work?”

“I will arrange for you to work under me. The work will be anything from strategy to actual field work.”

“But I still get to be a Green Beret?”

“Yes, Alexandra. You will still be a Green Beret. That is, if you can prove that you didn’t cheat on the test.”

“I didn’t so that’s easy…”

“You have to prove it. We’ll run scenarios tonight. Depending on how well you do…”

“We get to run scenarios all night?” Alex cut him off. She was positively bursting with excitement. “Then I get to take a class with you! That’s wonderful! Ok, go ahead.”

“You are a sick, sick girl. You will join your group tomorrow morning on no sleep.”

“That’s all right. I can go at least ninety hours without sleep, easy. Can you make the situations really hard?”

Ben laughed.

FF

October 13 – 7:30 PM

Olde Town Arvada, Colorado

“Ben?” Alex whispered opening her eyes in the dark.

She could have sworn she heard him laugh. She listened as feet walked across the wood flooring above her. There was a scraping sound, a chair across the wood, and people laughing. The smell of Gitanes cigarettes, the brand Ben smoked, came through the floorboards. She heard serving ware clink against china as what sounded like a dinner party began. The room above filled with people until every chair was filled. Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled as the smell of garlic and warm bread lifted from the table above to torture her senses.

Someone upstairs was tapping their feet. Crap Ben, you know my Morse code sucks. She looked up at the ceiling as Ben tapped ‘I know your Morse code sucks’.

All right.

All right.

Ben says that it’s been two days. Alex flushed with relief. Simply knowing how long she had been in this room grounded her in the present.

John was in Scotland. John. Alex smiled at the thought of John.

Max was with Dad at MI. Dad is… she cocked her head. What? There was a scraping sound and the tapping stopped. That was probably as much as he would risk.

With a sigh, she pushed herself to standing. Taking another drink of water, she ate a tiny bite of the Snickers bar, saving the last piece for tomorrow. She rubbed a finger across her teeth as a modified toothbrush.

Distracting herself from the laughter, garlic and cigarette smoke of the party she started her workout. She walked the edges of the room, then worked her way through running, yoga, and deep stretches. She tried a few burpees, but crunches were more than she could bear. She was certain she had never been in as much pain.

Bending over her left leg, she felt the sharp edges of a piece of shrapnel move toward the surface of her hip. Unzipping her jeans, she could feel the hard lump under her skin. Another thing she couldn’t do a damn thing about. She sighed and pulled her pants up.

There was a clap of thunder, the dinner party overhead cheered, and the rain dropped to the streets below. The spark that was Jesse moved over to the vent. Alex held her bucket above her head while Jesse helped move the water into the bucket.

One more day. They would come for her tomorrow.

Then what?

She succumbed to terror. Tomorrow the real torture and raping began. Hyperventilating, she dropped to her knees. The bucket fell from her hands. Panic consumed her. Her life-giving water spilled onto the cement floor.

Laughing people, less than twenty feet above her head, ate their gourmet meal oblivious to Alex’s struggle for her breath and sanity. Looking up, she saw the sparkle of Jesse.

“You are ahead of yourself,” he said.

She nodded. She slammed the panic and fear into a tight box in her head. Feeling in the dark, she found the bucket and held it above her head. Jesse helped the water fall into the bucket. They filled the bucket with five inches of water before the rain stopped. Taking a drink of precious water, she moved to sit down.

Drowning in the cold pitch black, she allowed her mind to return to her memories.

FFF

October 14 – 2:33 A.M.
Olde Town Arvada, Colorado

Alex opened her eyes.

She was shivering. Pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her hands around her bare feet. She pressed her face into her knees in attempt to stop shaking. Nothing seemed to help. Standing near the basement vents, she realized that she was sweating. She opened her jacket to allowed the cold wind from the basement vents to cool her body. Looking up, she saw snow and rain drop onto the street above. The wind whipped through the streets and blew flakes of snow onto her hot body.

“I have a fever Jesse,” she said out loud.

“Shh, Alexandra,” he replied. “Your wound is infected. You need to scrape it.”

“With what?” she mumbled.

“Use the drugged water and your knife.”

“Did you lose your lighter?”

“You have my lighter. Alexandra, do not speak.”

“Hmm, where’s my lighter?”

“That’s an interesting question. I’m going to leave if you speak again. Sign to me.”

Alex stumbled around the room until her hand felt the door. She tapped the floor with her foot until she felt the bottle of drugged water. She slipped off her leather jacket. Setting her jacket next to the wall, her body continued to shake with cold and fever. She pulled off her sweater and placed it on top of her jacket. Letting out a breath for courage, she took off her T-shirt. She cut strips from the bottom of the T-shirt with Troy’s Leatherman Mini-tool. Feeling for her sweater, she placed the strips onto her sweater. The room was so dark that she would lose them if she wasn’t careful.

Taking two steps forward and one step toward the center of the room, she pulled the filthy piece of fabric from the knife wound on her left forearm.

“Ugh.”

Jesse was right. She needed to scrape the wound to remove bacteria and dead skin. Singing the first verse of “Home” by Breaking Benjamin, she pulled the lid off the bottle and poured the water onto the wound. The ice-cold water on her inflamed burning skin sent a chill down her back. Shivering, she splashed water onto her bare feet before finally wetting the Mini-tool knife. With a gust of breath, she inserted the blade into the wound. Another deep breath.

That wasn’t too bad.

She scraped the blade across the wound. Every motion brought waves of pain and nausea. She yanked the knife from the wound. Falling to her knees, she panted against the blinding pain.

“Get up,” Jessie said. “NOW, Sergeant Hargreaves GET TO YOUR FEET!”

Alex jumped to her feet at Jesse’s imitation of their Special Forces training instructor’s voice. Weaving and shivering, she splashed more water onto the wound.

“Once more,” Jesse said in his normal voice. “You have to do it again.”

Alex’s head turned toward his voice. She weaved.

“NOW. SCRAPE IT NOW!” Jesse imitated their training instructor again.

Alex fell forward to the ground in a faint. A pool of blood formed under her left arm.

“Wake up, Alex,” Jesse said.

Alex blinked her eyes.

“You have to scrape the wound again. You’ll die if you don’t. Twice. You have to do it twice. Alex.” Jesse’s voice rose in anxiety. Not sure what else to do, he said the one thing he knew would make her respond. Imitating their bastard training instructor’s voice, he sneered, “I knew you didn’t have it in you to be a Green Beret.”

Alex jerked alert. Pushing herself to her knees, she scraped the edges of the wound with the knife. The knife stuck on something in her arm. She tugged and pulled. Letting out a breath, she jerked the knife from the wound. Holding the bleeding wound away from her body, she mumbled, “Green Beret my ass.”

Jesse laughed.

Wiping the knife on her jeans, her numb fingers fumbled with the Mini-tool. The wet steel bounced in her hand. She caught the Mini-tool just before she lost it forever in the dark. With greater care, she tucked the Mini-tool into her pants pocket.

“I’m a Green Beret, asshole, and you were court martialed for conduct unbecoming of an officer.” Her voice slurred and was inaudible. “I’m a Green Beret and you’re not. Ha, ha, ha, ha.”

In a whoosh, she threw up on the floor. Her empty stomach heaved.

“You have to pee on the wound to disinfect it. You will die if you don’t,” Jesse said. “Alexandra, do not pass out.”

Alex swayed then fell forward to the ground.

“Women are WEAK, insignificant CREATURES.” Jesse repeated what the training instructor said over and over again. “Good that you are laying down, Sergeant Hargreaves. Now spread your legs and show us what you are made for.”

Alex jumped to her feet at attention.

“Pee. NOW.”

Vibrating and swaying, her frozen fingers pulled at her jeans. Her fingers fumbled to pull her panties down. Sticking her forearm between her legs, she let go of a stream of urine onto the bleeding wound.

Her head jerked up. She heard an animal suffering, screaming and howling. Where was the kitty? Who’s torturing the kitty? Why would someone do that to a poor creature?

“Honey, that’s you.” Jesse’s voice was kind and soothing.

Alex clamped her hand over her mouth. But the howl refused to end. The sound crept past her closed mouth in the form of a moan.

“Get dressed.”

She pulled up her pants.

“Good girl,” Jesse said. “Let it bleed for a while.”

She held the wound away from her. Her blood dropped to the cement. Over her own moan, she heard the drops of blood hit the ground.

“Ok that’s probably enough,” Jesse said. “I wish you paid more attention in medical training.”

“Jax…” she started. Between her pain and desperate longing for her dead friend, she couldn’t finish the statement.

Her frozen rebellious fingers managed to create a tight bandage from the T-shirt straps. Shaking with cold and fever, she pulled what was left of her T-shirt on. Her sweater, still warm from her body, dropped warmth onto her shoulders. Slipping into her jacket, she realized that she vomited on the jacket.

In that moment, her loneliness, anger, and pain spilled forward and Alex began to wail. Moving back to her sleeping spot, she slid down the brick wall to the ground. She hit the floor with a thud bruising the one place on her body that wasn’t bruised. Shaking with cold and sobs, she pressed her knees against her filthy chest. Her fever began to rise.

Everything was gone. Her home was destroyed. Her husband was not who she thought he was. Her father wasn’t her father. Her teammates were dead. She tried to reach for Max but he was asleep or distracted somewhere.

Alone, yet somehow alive in this pitch-black purgatory, she howled like a wounded animal.

As her fever continued to rise, the LSD from the drugged water entered Alex’s system. She fell into a delirium. A hundred times more extreme than her recent Ketamine hallucinations, her pain and loss surrounded her like cruel, taunting ghosts.

Without moving his lips, a demonic mime spoke in Eleazar’s laughing voice. He pointed toward her lost husband, her lost father, and her lost home. He took her lighter and burned her Green Beret. The burning pieces of fabric grew to burning ropes that held her in place. She could only watch in horror.

Laughing, he launched a fireball. Zack, Matthew, and Troy screamed and writhed as they burned. As Trece and White Boy screamed in horror, he shrank the enormous men to spider size then squashed them under the ball of his foot. He pointed his index finger toward Max.

A bullet flew out of the end of his finger to catch Max in the forehead. Turning his finger, the demonic mime shot Joseph then John. Laughing, the mime executed Raz with a bullet behind his ear. He pushed her parents, Rebecca, Patrick and Ben, into blood red quick sand. Screaming and begging for Alex to save them, her parents sank to their deaths.

Standing at the memorial, the mime called to the zombies of her dead friends. They rose from their graves to chase her through Fort Logan Cemetery until they trapped her in the limestone vault. The laughing zombie Charlie closed the limestone door leaving her inside surrounded by dead bodies and blood. She pounded on the door begging Charlie to let her out. Slipping on the blood slick floor, she fell face first into her own rotting dead body.

And then, Alex lost her mind.

F

The Fey is the first in a thriller series written by Claudia Hall Christian.
The novel has been serialized for your enjoyment at AlextheFey.com
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com and
StoriesbyClaudia.com every Friday.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

October 14 – 9 A.M.
Olde Town Arvada, Colorado

Alex opened her eyes in the dark room and wondered where she was. Remembering the hotel room, she looked for the light under the door. Seeing nothing, she puzzled. She patted the space next to her to see if John was there. Nope.

Her face pinched instinctively against the odor of urine, vomit, sweat, stale cigarettes and garlic. Pushing her greasy hair out of her face, she realized that she was the smell.

“Heya Jesse.” Alex smiled at the apparition of her best friend.

“Shh, Alexandra. They are monitoring you,” Jesse said. His apparition moved to sit down next to her. “Use sign language.”

“Lucky you’re a ghost because I smell pretty bad,” she signed. “Where am I?”

“You were taken hostage, beaten up then stuck in this room,” Jesse said.

“Ah shit. That sucks. I thought the whole beat up and stuck in a dark room thing was a dream. Did you use the Captain’s voice last night?”

“I did,” Jesse said. “I’m sorry.”

“It worked.” Alex shrugged.

“Did he really get a court martial?”

“Yep,” Alex signed. “He’s been working basic. After humiliating this poor girl in front of her team, he assaulted her… pressed himself against her, jumped on her… that stuff he used to do. Remember Jason Smith?”

“JS? He was in training with us? Why?”

“He’s a big deal now. Caught the Captain in the act. Court martial city! He asked me to testify but I… I didn’t want to leave the house,” Alex said. “I always tell you Jesse. Bad guys lose. It’s inevitable. Hey, why can I see you?”

“Light reflected off the snow.”

“Oh look! It snowed.” Alex pointed to the snow on the street above. “At least the snow will block some of the wind.”

“I guess your fever broke,” Jesse said.

“I had the most amazing dreams,” Alex signed. “I don’t know Jesse. It’s like everything fell apart, then cell-by-cell, I came back together again. What’s next?”

“Today is rape and torture day.”

“Well we can’t have that,” Alex signed. She pushed herself to her feet then slipped back to sitting. “God damn. I hurt. If I ever see that fucker and his rubber hose again…”

“You can’t be too angry. He’s kept British Intelligence informed about what’s going on here. His handler is working with your father.”

“Which father?”

“Both,” Jesse said. “Remember Eleazar doesn’t know that you know.”

“There’s a lot of things Eleazar doesn’t know,” Alex signed.

“Your father asked Matthew, who asked Max, to tell me to remind you that they will try to blind you with the light. Max said to remember the slit glasses.”

“That’s a lot of asking,” she signed. “I can make them while I wait. When do you think they’ll get here?”

“Three, maybe four hours,” Jesse said. “Eleazar isn’t here yet. I heard Ben say that he’s due here this evening.”

Smiling, Alex nodded.

“I’m so glad you’re my friend,” Alex signed.

Jesse wasn’t sure what to say. She used to say that. She’d smile her bright smile and thank him for being her friend. She hadn’t said anything like that since the team died.

“You’ll let me know when they get here?” Alex signed.

Jesse laughed. Looking at her smiling face, he felt like his best friend had returned from a long journey. And he was the one who was dead!

“Of course.”

FFFFFF

October 14 – 5 P.M.
Northern Scotland

(9 A.M. in Colorado)

John Drayson was standing at the top of a small hill working on a broken fence. Pulling the broken barbed wire from the wood post, he had the sense that Alex was near.

Maybe she’s thinking of me.

He hadn’t heard a word from her or her family since he left Denver. Leaning against the post, his hand instinctively wrapped around her dog tag. He wondered if he would ever see her again.

Moving to the back of the truck, he unwound a length of barbed wire from the spool and smiled.

He wouldn’t even kiss her until Father Seamus said they were husband and wife. Standing at the beach party, she suggested they ‘test out the works.’ Then she smiled that crooked smile. Oh God. Sand, crowd, party be damned, he almost jumped her right there. Everything in him longed to connect with her, but he… somehow he managed to step away. John shook his head. To this day, he had no idea how he resisted her.

Clipping a length of barbed wire, he remembered the electric charge that ran through him when he finally kissed her. He still felt that spark sometimes. She ignited the very core of him.

Overcome by the idea of being married, he took his bride-of-ten-minute’s hand. He gained control with each step toward the street. When he raised his hand for a cab, he already had a plan in place–bed her, quick annulment, no feelings hurt, back on track. He even smiled at his brilliance. Of course he had to marry her. How else could he bed his best friend’s sister?

Sitting in the back of the cab, he brushed her lips in a kind of “kiss the wife” way then could not stop kissing her. Every thought of retreat vaporized in that cab ride. He would have had her, right there in the back of the cab, if… If what? If she wasn’t his wife. She became his wife on that cab ride.

John’s laughter echoed off the Scottish hills.

He was so drawn by her lips, tongue and teeth that he didn’t notice that the cab slowing at the apartment until the cab driver hit him on the back of the head.

“Pay up. Jeez, get a room,” the cabbie said.

Certain that Alex would be offended, he started to move toward the cab driver when his eyes caught Alex. She was beaming. Seeing the look on his face, she began laughing.

“Yeah, very funny lady. Get out of my cab.”

She scooted out then waited for John. He had never carried a person before and had certainly never carried a woman. Everything is a first with Alex. He scooped her up simply to give him better access to that supple mouth. He carried her up to the apartment then found himself in front of the locked door, keys at the bottom of his tight pocket, and his arms filled with his beloved. He wasn’t going to set her down.

She laughed when he kicked the door open. Setting her inside, and somehow managing to close the door, he ripped her silk blouse open. As her buttons ricocheted off the entryway, he dropped his mouth to her captivating mouth. Pulling at his tongue with her teeth, she worked his T-shirt from his body. They ripped their way through jeans, underwear and bra to plush naked skin.

She stepped back from him. They stood in front of each other. Naked. Neither moved. They just looked at each other.

When her lips turned upward, he responded.

“JOHN.” Tom Drayson touching John’s shoulder.

John raised his eyebrows.

“I’ve been calling you from down the hill. Where’s your head, boy?”

John shrugged.

“You’re almost done here,” Tom said. “We need to get to the North end.”

“To look for the fox?” John asked.

“Right, he comes out this time of day. Fox and chickens. You can’t have one without the other.”

John nodded and moved toward the fence with the barbed wire. Tom took the other end of the wire.

“Rita won’t let us kill the fox.”

“That’s what we used to do.” John tacked the wire to his post. He moved to tack the wire Tom held.

“She won’t have him in her chickens either.”

“What would you like to do?” John asked. He bent to pick up his tools and they walked toward the truck.

“I have a plan.”

John nodded and stepped into the passenger seat.

Turning the key in the ignition, the old truck caught with a roar. Tom caught the goofy look on John’s face and laughed.

“She must be some girl.”

“She is.”

FFFFFF

October 14 – 10 A.M.
Buckley Air Force Base, Colorado

“You guys worked a lot with the Fey?” Sean Hudson asked.

The British intelligence officer, Raz and Matthew were working on their laptop computers in a small conference room. Matthew was tracking Eleazar as well as running interference for the gathering team. Raz worked with Alex’s database. Sean compared the information Raz came up with from Alex’s notes, journals and database with what British Intelligence had on Eleazar.

“Sure,” Raz said. “I’ve worked with her for… five, almost six years? I’m her Homeland partner. Matthew just started working with her as her second in command here at Military Intelligence.”

“We’ve been friends for twelve years,” Matthew said.

“How do you know Alex?” Raz asked.

“She appeared in my bed,” Sean said.

Raz and Matthew looked up at him.

“I was sound asleep and I roll over to find this… tasty woman was lying in my bed. She’s just lying there wearing this tank top and tiny panties.”

Sean fell quiet remembering.

“And?” Matthew asked.

“I thought, ‘If this is an enemy agent, I may as well show her a bit of hospitality.’ I’m smooth, you see. So I slip on top of her to have a go. She smiles and puts her arms around my neck. Her mouth is right next to my ear when she says, ‘You have a leak in your department. Your entire team is targeted for elimination.’ I move to kiss her and she says, ‘If you think you’re going to use that, you should think again.’ She slips out of bed and is gone before I’m awake enough to follow her.”

Sean laughed.

“Was there a leak?” Matthew asked.

“Oh yes. Very big, very messy. My boss, actually. If she hadn’t warned me? I’d be dead.. and everyone on my team, as well. Nasty stuff.”

“When did you see her again?” Raz asked.

“How did you know?” Sean laughed.

“It just had to happen,” Raz said.

“A couple years later. I’m bored and frustrated, sitting, in a meeting. We’ve got this impossible hostage situation. We’ve tried everything we know to do and… Nothing. We’re fucked. I figure the hostages are dead. Behind our backs, the PM rang some Yank expert. And the great expert is late. We’re sitting in a conference room like ripe old buffers when her team arrives. Did you meet those guys?”

Raz nodded.

“Bloody hell. They were huge guys. Tall, at least six feet, every one of them. Testosterone everywhere. Bulging muscles. Very macho. They push their way into the room with machine guns and dark glasses,” Sean laughed.

“Ten guys stand around edges of the room. Alex wags her hips across the room with this tawny pit bull looking guy by her side. That was THE Jesse that General Hargreaves was talking about?”

Matthew nodded his head.

“She sits down at an empty chair in the middle of the table. We’re so taken back that no one speaks. She smiles then says, ‘Next time? Call me before you fuck it up.’ She stands up to leave and my Unit Chief sputters, ‘What about the hostages?’ She looks at him, puts her dark glasses on and says, ‘They are waiting for you in the hall. MI-5 saves the day’ and leaves the room.”

Sean blushed bright red.

“Uh huh, what else did she say?” Raz asked.

“Every person in the room is watching her bum as she swishes toward the door. She gets to me. I’m sitting near the door. She raises her glasses and says, ‘Heya Sean. I didn’t recognize you with your clothes on. While there’s a certain element missing,’ she looks straight at my crotch then raises one eyebrow. ‘It’s very nice to see you again.’ I was so embarrassed that I think my face bled. My team went wild to find out what that was about.”

“Did you tell them?” Raz asked.

“Not a chance. You think I want them to know that I had her in my bed and let her go? The tape shows her team laughing about me. They joked, in Irish Gaelic no less, the entire way out of the building.”

“The hostages?” Matthew asked.

“Outside the door,” he said. “I have no idea how she worked their release. The hostages never said a word.”

Sean fell silent and the men went back to work. After a silent hour, Sean looked up. He watched Raz and Matthew work. While Alex lingered in his mind somewhere between fantasy and dream, these men were her friends. If he didn’t ask them, he would never know.

“Have you spent time with Alex?” Sean asked breaking the silence again.

Raz furrowed his brow, “All over the world. Why?”

“Have you ever noticed that she has a smell?”

Raz pierced his brow, then looked at Matthew.

“Cinnamon rolls,” Matthew said. “Troy says she smells like cotton candy.”

Raz raised his eyebrows and laughed.

“Oh come on, you’ve noticed it.”

“Warm chocolate lava cake,” Raz said. “I thought it was because we’ve eaten so much chocolate together. She loves warm chocolate lava cake.”

Raz and Matthew looked at Sean who blushed and looked down at his laptop computer.

“Well?” Matthew asked.

“Christmas pudding,” Sean said.

Raz made a disgusted face.

“It’s wonderful stuff. We’ll have it the next time you’re in London.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Matthew replied.

“The very smell of her is intoxicating. She’s still married, right?”

Matthew nodded his head.

“That guy would have to be a complete idiot to fuck that up. There’s a guy at SIS who is absolutely obsessed with her. I guess she rescued him from somewhere in Eastern Europe. He swears she smells like rain. Do you think everyone experiences that?”

Matthew smiled. “I think it’s only men. Her team used to tease her about it.”

“Is it a perfume?”

“No,” Raz said. “It’s just the way her skin smells.”

Sean shook his head then returned to his laptop. The men worked in silence for more than a half hour before Sean had to ask one last question.

“Why do you think it’s different for different people?” Sean asked. “My unit head says she smells like a sweet shop.”

“She’s a fairy, Sean. You’re smelling fairy dust,” Raz said under his breath.

Matthew remembered Alex standing over him on the martial arts mat at Special Forces training. She had just kicked his ass. Beamed at him in greeting, not pride or achievement, just greeting, she held her hand out to help him up. He hated this woman for daring to be a Green Beret. But looking into her smiling face, he knew he’d made a friend for life.

Matthew nodded. “Fairy dust.”

“Fairy dust?” Sean asked

“Fairy dust.”

FFF

October 14 – 12:30 P.M.
Buckley Air Force Base, Colorado

“Sir?” Matthew asked.

He walked into the conference room to find Patrick and Ben arguing. In all the years of knowing Alex and dating Erin, he had never seen Patrick Hargreaves angry. At this moment, Patrick’s face was flushed bright red and the soldier–hard, driven and deadly–emerged on Patrick’s face.

Standing with his face an inch from Patrick’s face, Ben punched Patrick’s chest with the index finger of the hand holding a lit cigarette. They were speaking French in terse whispers. When Matthew spoke, Ben whipped around and glowered at Matthew. He walked away from Patrick puffing on his cigarette.

“Max says that Alex is doing well.”

Patrick put a hand to his face. Ben fell toward the wall catching himself with the hand that held the cigarette. Not sure of what to do next, Matthew kept talking.

“Jesse said that she was really sick last night but when she woke up this morning she was better. Max says that she’s really better, like before all of this happened, like two years ago.”

“And what does Jesse or Max say she plans to do?”

Matthew smiled, chuckling a little, “She’s going to kill them then wait for Eleazar.”

“How will she do that?” Ben asked. His desperation seeped into his voice.

“I’m not sure exactly. Max said something about razor wire and the Mini-tool? Does that make sense to you?”

Patrick laughed and patted Matthew on the back.

“Wire around the leather glove?” Ben said in French to Patrick then laughed. “They won’t miss the wire because of the snow.”

Matthew made no indication that he understood Ben. There was no way he wanted Ben to think he spoke French. No way. Working with Alex was one thing but Ben? Not a chance.

“Max says that we need to get moving. He’s not sure where but he says that Alex thinks they will move her.”

Patrick nodded. “Thank you Matthew.”

“And sir?”

“Yes?”

“Jordanian Armed Forces have Eleazar’s mother in their control as Alex planned. Also, UN Security Forces have surrounded Eleazar’s home in Jerusalem but they have been unable to enter.”

“Guards?” Patrick asked.

“No sir. The PIRA is in the house. They responded to the death of John Kelly. Raz said that they seem to be waiting to hear from Alex.”

Patrick raised his eyebrows and rubbed his forehead.

“Thank you, Matthew.”

“Yes sir.”

As Matthew walked toward the front of the room, he heard Ben apologize to Patrick and Patrick laugh. Turning to close the door, he saw the men hug.

For the first time in days, his dear friend Alex was in real, serious danger.

He was glad her fathers were on edge.

FFFFFF

October 14 – 12:45 P.M.

Cherry Hills Estates, Denver, Colorado

“Mom,” Erin said.

Rebecca looked up to take a cup of chamomile tea from Erin’s hands. Dressed in their warmest clothing, they were sitting on Patrick and Rebecca’s deck looking out toward the snow capped Rocky mountains.

“It’s been three days,” Rebecca said letting out a breath.

“I know,” Erin replied. “We have to believe that Alex is alive and doing all right because the alternative is just too awful to contemplate.”

“Every time. I worry about her every single time. I keep thinking that I will get used to it, but I never do. And I always know when she’s in danger. I always know,” Rebecca said.

Erin put her hand on Rebecca’s arm.

“It’s been wonderful having Alex back,” Erin said. “I don’t think I knew how much I missed her.”

Rebecca smiled a little, “I’m sorry I made her go away.”

“You did what you thought was best. I know that, so does Alex. Even Max says it was good. After all, that’s how he met John and how Alex met Jesse. John and Jesse were Max and Alex’s first friends.”

“And how Alex met Matt,” Rebecca said.

At the mention of his name, Erin smiled. Her face flushed and her eyes shone with love.

“And Matt.”

“He’s a wonderful man, Erin. I am very happy for you,” Rebecca said reaching over to hold Erin’s hand.

“Yes, he is. Who would have thought? Me and Matt. I dreamed of being with Matt, you know, day in and day out, when I was sixteen years old. It seemed impossible. I mean, he’s on a twenty year contract!” Erin shook her head at the impossibility. “The last months have been a dream come true. He says that too. Can you believe it? And it’s all because of Alex.”

Rebecca turned from Erin to watch the mountains. They sat in silence.

“Even though I know the sun will set tonight… Even though I know that what happens today is absolutely out of my control, I still wish…”

“Me too.”

F

The Fey is the first in a thriller series written by Claudia Hall Christian.
The novel has been serialized for your enjoyment at AlextheFey.com
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com and
StoriesbyClaudia.com every Friday.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

October 13 – 8 A.M.
Olde Town Arvada, Colorado

“You need to move, Alex.”

Alex opened her eyes. She wasn’t sure who had told her to move around but just straightening her leg brought waves of pain. With force, she pushed herself to standing. She had to be ready for them when they came. She glanced at the basement vents. The light turned from halogen orange to yellow.

Was that daylight? Had she been here one day or two?

Not three days.

Surely, not three days. The silent pitch-black night continued in this room.

Feeling for the wall, she began stepping around the edge of the room. When her body loosened, she walked faster then ran with her hand along the wall. As her body warmed the tightness and pain began to ease. Slipping off her jacket, she went through a Sun Salutation yoga routine to stretch her whole body. She dropped to the ground to stretch.

She thought she knew pain. The sharp pain in her forearm was familiar, almost comforting. But the swollen, bruised sensation between her skin and her muscles was a whole other beast. She felt as if the space between her muscles and skin was filled with aching, swollen lumps.

She walked the room ten more times. Ten was probably enough. She promised herself that she would repeat the routine tonight.

Dropping back to her sitting position, she ate another bite of the cherished Snickers bar. She never noticed all the textures and flavors in this candy. Captain Gordon loved these bars and sent them with people on missions. Troy used them when he trained for marathons. Snickers bar. She pushed the rest of the bar into its wrapper.

Only Troy would bring her a candy bar. He didn’t think of bringing water or a weapon. Troy knew that she didn’t really need those things. He brought her something she needed, something for her heart.

Her hand wrapped around the Mini-tool in her jacket pocket. Less than three inches when it was folded closed, the Mini-tool opened to seven inches of stainless steel with a needle nosed pliers in the center. Alex folded the steel arms open in her hand and ran her finger across the well used bottle opener. Touching the blade of the knife, she noticed the blade was very sharp. Troy had this tool when she met him in basic training. She had never seen him without his Mini-tool. Just holding it made her feel less alone. She folded the arms back in and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans.

She was loved.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

FFFFFF

October 13 – 10 A.M.
Buckley Air Force Base, Colorado

Patrick rubbed his eyes then looked from face to face in the small conference room. Matthew, Troy and Raz sat along one side of a table while Ben and the British Intelligence Agent–what was his name?–sat on the other side. He hadn’t led a meeting like this in over twenty years. He almost forgot how much he enjoyed leading competent, talented people. And Alex certainly surrounded herself with smart, talented people. He looked up as her Sergeant gave him a piece of paper. He nodded then set the sheet down.

“Let’s begin,” Patrick said then waited for the men’s attention.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Colonel Gordon came into the room. “Patrick, how are you?”

The Colonel held his hand out which Patrick shook.

“Thank you for being here,” Colonel Gordon said. He sat next to the British Intelligence officer. “We are lucky to have someone of your experience to help us out. You won’t mind working on a few other cases while you’re here, would you?”

Patrick laughed.

Matthew and Troy looked at each other then at Patrick. They attended this meeting out of respect for Alex. They knew her father had been a General and was a hell of a poker player, but they knew next to nothing about his service record.

“First, what is your name?” Patrick asked the British Intelligence Officer.

“Sean Hudson, her Majesty’s Secret Service, MI-5, sir. It’s an honor to meet you, General Hargreaves.”

“Sean? Every British person I meet is either a Sean, John, Tom…”

“Alex said the same thing when I met her,” Sean said.

Patrick nodded. Alex knew it was a fake name too.

“Thank you for coming,” Patrick said. “Anyone know where Trece and the White Boy are?”

“Sir,” Matthew said. “They are attending to a security issue in Los Angeles. They left right after the ceremony and we…”

“They don’t know this is going on,” Patrick said. “That was wise. Troy?”

“Sir?”

“I apologize for keeping you inactive for so long. I’m wondering if there is anything you’d like to tell us.”

Troy flushed bright red. Matthew shot him a look.

“Matthew, you are an excellent leader. You’ll make a great General, if you’re interested. However, when you keep people like Troy inactive for too long, they end up acting on their own.”

“Troy?” Matthew turned in his chair to look at Troy.

“Um…”

“I have an Arvada police report about a mugging in old town Arvada. It says that Captain Olivas was… er… doing his civic duty.” Raz looked up from the piece of paper in his hand. “Your civic duty?”

“What did you expect me to do? Just sit on my hands while Alex sits in that awful room all by herself. Fuck,” Troy said. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not cut out for this work.”

“Alexandra thought you were,” Patrick said. “And I second that. What did you do?”

“I went by the building. I followed Jesse to these basement vents. They are just at sidewalk level… maybe two inches high and eight inches long. They had razor wire on the outside and on the inside. One is covered by a new gutter drain. It’s probably not to code…” Troy looked up at Patrick who nodded and smiled encouragingly.

“And the other vent?”

“I cut the razor wire. I couldn’t talk to her because she said she was being monitored. She touched my fingers then told me to go.”

“Did you give her anything?” Raz asked.

“A Snickers bar and… my Leatherman Mini-tool. Oh, and a leather glove.”

“Outstanding Troy,” Patrick said. “Candy to give her hope and something for her to use. Well done. Now, don’t go back.”

“Yes sir. I was jumped by those guys by the way.”

“Also good to know,”

“Is she injured?” Raz asked.

“I could only see a flash of her blonde hair. The room is very dark. But she grunted like she does when she’s in pain. So yeah, I think she’s injured.”

Matthew made a small noise, which he covered by coughing. Raz looked away from the table.

“We must stay focused on the issues at hand. I’m sorry but our emotions won’t help her now.” Patrick looked from Raz to Matthew. “It’s hard for me as well.”

The men nodded.

“Sean, what have you come to tell us?” Patrick asked.

“We have an operative deep within this group. He’s been with Eleazar for almost two years. They are from the same neighborhood in Jerusalem. This man was in Abu Graib.”

“What does he report?” Patrick said.

“They are following a standard protocol. They beat her up then will leave her alone for a few days. The room is set up for sensory deprivation with some extra goodies.”

“Goodies?” Raz asked.

“The gutter drain Troy spoke of? They left her with only a gallon of water laced with LSD and laxatives. If she drinks the water, she will hallucinate and have diarrhea. She will know this but…”

“She can hear the water in the drain,” Raz said. “That’s …”

“Torture, yes,” Sean said. “There is a high-end chef’s table directly above where Alex is being held. The room is not used very much but there is a large dinner scheduled tonight.”

“We’ve tried to get a seat at that dinner but so far, we’ve been unable to,” Ben said.

“Our operative believes they will come for her tomorrow. They are instructed to follow a fairly standard torture plan.”

“Does he have any idea what they want?” Raz asked.

“No. That’s the strange thing. Eleazar is very vague about what they are after. He believes that he can break Alex. He’s confident he’ll be able to achieve his goals because she did what he asked her to do. We believe he needs her to do something but we have no intel on what that might be.”

Sean looked at Ben who shrugged.

“How did he get Alex to do what he asked her to do?” Matthew asked.

“It’s an assumption to believe that he did,” Patrick said. “Let’s get back to that in a moment.”

“Is Eleazar here?” Raz asked.

“Not yet. He is expected tomorrow,” Sean said.

“They may start working on her before he arrives?” Patrick asked.

“Yes sir. Their orders are clear. Keep to the schedule. He will be there when he can.”

“It’s my opinion that he does not want information. He wants a compliant, controllable Alex,” Ben said.

“I agree,” Patrick said. “This is what I recommend. I’d like Troy, Trece and the White Boy to collect Captain Jakkman and bring him back to Denver. I spoke with him about an hour ago. He is on his way to Rome. Sergeant? Can you make arrangements for Troy to collect Trece and the White Boy then meet Captain Jakkman in Rome? I’d like them back here by tomorrow evening at the latest.”

“Yes sir,” Alex’s Sergeant left the room.

“Zack Jakkman is alive?” Sean Hudson asked.

“No,” Patrick said. “Raz, tell me exactly what you saw when Alex left the hotel.”

“I wasn’t there when she got the call. I noticed she left her coffee and asked John about it. He said she answered her phone. She told him that she had to go and that ‘he always says friends.’ I ran to the front of the hotel and saw her leaving by cab. Her eyes were saucers–dark and round. She held her right hand up to the window. I was forced back into the hotel by the CIA operative. There was a major threat against the hotel.”

“And was there?”

“Yes,” Ben said. “There was a credible bomb threat. As a safety measure, cell phone, electronic signal, Internet access and telephone lines wereautomatically shut down. There was no way for Agent Rasmussen to contact the police or anyone to stop the cab.”

“They knew where she was staying. Do they know about John? Max?”

“No,” Sean said. “According to our operative, Eleazar believes he has murdered Zack Jakkman, Max Hargreaves, John Kelly and Joseph Walter.”

“Captain Olivas?” Alex’s Sergeant poked his head inside the conference room door. “I have your travel arrangements. You will leave in ten minutes. Does that work?”

“Oh thank God.” Troy hopped to his feet and exited the room.

“General, do you believe that Alex is under Eleazar’s control?” Colonel Gordon asked.

“Yes and no,” Patrick said. “She clearly did what he asked. She should have only said what he told her to say. Which was,” Patrick shifted through a few sheets of paper, “‘Sorry, I have to go’ according to the cell phone transcript. The video record from the restaurant shows that she kissed John and told him that she loved him. She also would not have put her hand on the glass to Raz if she was completely under his control.”

“Are you certain, sir?” Matthew asked. “I mean no disrespect but I think we all want to believe that Alex didn’t succumb to him. Yet she’s in his control now.”

“Matthew, General Hargreaves is one of the world’s experts in psychological programming,” Ben said.

Matthew looked at Alex’s father with surprise. Patrick shrugged.

“It’s a long story,” Patrick said. “It’s my opinion that she let it happen. I cannot imagine what it would be like to watch your entire team killed before you. Then she lost her home, her friends were almost killed, her twin shot, her husband… It goes on and on. She knew Eleazar wanted her. I think she didn’t want anyone else to be hurt or killed. She probably just wanted to get it over with.”

“She knew he’d torture her? Rape her? And just went along with it?” Matthew asked.

Patrick nodded. “When I look at the video, I see her saying good-bye to John. She had already arranged for him to go to Scotland where she knew he’d be taken care of. Yes, she knew what would happen. Now, Matthew, can you hear Jesse?”

“Not well,” he said. “I’m too skeptical.”

“I can,” Ben said.

Patrick raised his eyebrows at Ben and laughed, “Really?”

“I heard him in the tunnels. He told us where to go.”

“We need to remind Alex that they will blind her with the lights. I doubt we can get close again, like Troy did. She also needs to know that Eleazar is not here. If she can hold them off until he gets here, we will get somewhere. I wondered if we might send her that message.”

“Sir, you are talking about speaking with a dead person,” Raz said. “Isn’t that a little…”

“Alex believes she sees and talks to him. Why shouldn’t we? Now how do we get his attention?”

“I’ll work on that, sir,” Matthew said. “I think I know a way.”

“Great. I’ll work with Ben, Raz and Sean to see if we can come up with what Eleazar wants.”

Patrick watched Matthew leave the room then turned to Ben.

“What do you have?”

FFF

“Are you all right?” Max asked.

He was walking down the hall carrying Alex’s address book when he ran into Matthew. Matthew was standing in the hallway with his head against the wall. He looked up when Max spoke and shook his head.

“Come on, man. Let’s get some coffee,” Max said.

They walked down the hall to Alex’s office. Max tilted his head sideways, then opened a cabinet and pulled out the coffee maker. He passed the pot to Matthew who filled it at the water cooler. With a flick of his hand, Max turned the coffee pot on.

“How did you know that was there? You even found her secret stash of French coffee.”

“I just looked where I would put it,” Max said. “It’s not true for all twins, but Alex and I have always been very close.”

“Is that why you can stay so calm?” Matthew asked.

“I guess. I look inside, to the place that Alex lives inside me, and I know that she’s all right… asleep, I think.”

Matthew nodded.

“What’s wrong?” Max asked.

“What’s not?”

“Have some coffee. Alex can’t have coffee right now, so we should double up for her.”

Max poured Matthew a cup of coffee then went to Alex’s desk. Kicking a corner of the desk, the bottom drawer opened.

“Whiskey?” Max held up a bottle of Red Breast Irish Whiskey.

Matthew laughed and nodded.

“Don’t tell her I showed you her private stash.” Max poured himself a cup of coffee and added some whiskey.

“Your Dad… He just sat there talking about his daughter getting tortured… I…”

Max nodded. “It’s just a reality for him. I think he’s prepared himself for the possibility since she begged him to help her become a Green Beret. He was… crazy… when you guys were in S.E.R.E.… Absolutely crazy.”

“I’m supposed to talk to Jesse,” Matthew said. “I don’t even know if I believe Jesse exists.”

“He’s right there.” Max pointed to the door. “Did you call for him?”

“Just before you came down the hall. Then I just felt stupid and hopeless.”

“Why did you need him?” Max asked.

“I’m supposed to tell him to tell Alex that they will try to blind her with the lights and that Eleazar isn’t here yet. She’s supposed to hold them off until he gets here but … I mean, how can I ask Alex…”

“Jesse, remind her about the slit glasses,” Max said.

Jesse nodded then disappeared.

“Well that’s taken care of. Is there a shooting range here?” Max asked.

“Two floors below us, why?”

“The spies will be sorting out what their real names are and what not for a couple hours. Why don’t we go shoot for a while? Blow off steam.”

Matthew nodded.

“Do you really shoot a forty-five?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Oh nothing.”

F

The Fey is the first in a thriller series written by Claudia Hall Christian.
The novel has been serialized for your enjoyment at AlextheFey.com
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com and
StoriesbyClaudia.com every Friday.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

October 12 – 3 P.M.
Buckley Air Force Base, Colorado

“Sir, I have a signal,” Alex’s Sergeant said.

He pointed to the computer screen. Alex’s friend worked in her small office under Buckley Air Force Base.

Raz looked over his shoulder, “Thank God.”

“What does that mean?” Matthew asked.

“It means that Alex is alive and able to turn on the tracking signal in her hip. It means that we can determine her location and what to do next.”

“If she’s alive, we have hope,” Colonel Gordon said.

“Let’s go get her,” Troy said. He was ready get into action. The sitting around worrying and wondering was almost more than he could handle.

“I’m sorry,” Raz said. “We can’t do that.”

“Why? We know where she is being held. We’ll just go and kick some ass.”

“They will kill her before we even get close,” Colonel Gordon said. “Alex knows that. I’m sorry, Captain. We need to work our plan and trust Alex to endure what is to come.”

Matthew made a noise then sniffed his nose to hold back his emotion.

Troy looked over at Matthew, “Hey man, remember S.E.R.E.?”

Matthew stiffened. His mind flashed to the memory of laying on the cold tile, sobbing, while Alex sang children’s songs to him. He could almost hear her sing “intsy wintsy spider.” Matthew’s brown eyes shifted to look at Troy, “Yeah.”

“I mean you were with her, but I heard that the staff was completely freaked out by our Alex.”

Matthew nodded his head. “She didn’t bat an eye. She told me once that they have asked her to annotate her S.E.R.E. tapes to explain how she managed to never show fear. She refused. She said living through it once was enough.”

“If she wasn’t affected by S.E.R.E. then why would someone try to break her down by holding her captive now?”

Raz looked up from the computer screen to Troy.

“I’d be surprised if any record of Alex’s S.E.R.E. exists. Her fathers probably destroyed the file,” Raz said. “I’ve looked for it and I can’t find it.”

Troy laughed. For the first time since he learned that Eleazar had Alex, he felt like everything was going to be all right. He caught Matthew’s eyes and Matthew started to laugh.

“Why?” Raz asked.

“They’ll be lucky if they make it out alive,” Matthew said.

Raz looked from Matthew to Troy. Shaking his head, he returned to Alex’s computer hoping to find something that would help him to decide what to do next.

FFFFFF

October 12 – 7 P.M.
Olde Town Arvada, Colorado

Alex opened her eyes in the pitch black. She had no idea how long she had been in this room. The dark silence was disorienting. She might have been there a few hours or a few days. If she wasn’t in so much pain, she’d think she was dead. She closed then opened her eyes. Either way, she saw the same darkness. Grunting with pain, she moved her hand in front of her face. She saw the movement, a streak of light in the black, more than her hand.

Sighing, she heard the sound that awakened her. Rain was dropping onto the street. Accustomed to the silence, her ears could almost hear individual drops of rain dance on the street above her. She thought she heard the sound of water moving through the gutter drains.

As her ears reached toward the symphony of sound, her tongue expanded in her mouth. Her throat constricted with thirst. She licked her dry lips.

“Jesse,” Alex said as more of an out breath than a word.

“Don’t speak to me, Alexandra. They can hear what you say,” Jesse said in Spanish.

She looked toward the sound of his voice and saw a spark of light beside her. She sighed. She wanted to talk to Jesse. The idea that she couldn’t speak to Jesse was bone crushing disappointing.

“Tommy taught you sign language,” Jesse said.

Alex signed: “You don’t speak sign language.”

“I only have to understand it,” he said laughing. “They can’t hear me talk.”

“I need water. I’m very thirsty. The water they left is drugged.”

“It hasn’t been that long,” Jesse said.

“It feels like days,” Alex signed. “How long has it been?”

“I’ve never been good at that,” Jesse said,” and I’m worse now. Less than a day, I think.”

“They will most likely leave me alone for three days,” Alex signed. “It’s probably the rain, but I’m incredibly thirsty.”

“You’re injured,” he said. “That can make you thirsty.”

“Can you get me some water, Jesse?”

“I have no idea,” he said.

“I can hear water in the gutter drain. There’s a basement vent right there and the gutter drain is just on the other side. I’m certain it’s intentional to get me to drink the drugged water.”

“It rains almost every day this time of year,” he said.

Jesse went to the wall and looked through the two inch high and eight inch wide space that served as a vent for the basement. Someone had placed razor wire over the inside and outside of the vent. Reaching through the vent and the razor wire, he could touch the drain. Alex was right that this was intentional.

“I’ll be right back.”

Alex rested her head against the brick again. As time went on, she was getting more swollen and more sore.

Rubber hose. The gift that kept on giving.

She smiled and wondered what her mother would say about the bruising. Maybe Claire could add sleeves to her wedding dress. Remembering the beautiful silk dress, she drifted into memories of John.

FF

After a day of ignoring him, she was dancing with her arms around Max’s roommate’s neck at a beach party. How did she get there?

John asked her to dance when Max left to dance with some girl. She was dancing a couple feet from him, but this man was like a planet. Drawn by his gravitational pull, she drifted closer and closer to him until he put a hand on her waist. She was a bundle of sensations: the cool sand between her toes, the sound of the pounding surf, the music’s rhythms compelling her hips to sway, and a rising heat in her belly.

Her mind focused on the list of reasons why she was not interested in this man. First, he was not American. Second, he was her twin’s best friend. Third, he was a bed surfing slut. Fourth, he was just off limits. That’s all. O-F-F limits. Her mind was convinced but her body burned under his hands.

“Will you marry me?” John asked.

He said something. What did he say? She slipped back a foot or two to look up at him, “What?”

“Marry me Alex. Marry me tonight.”

She shook her head, “What are you saying?”

“I have this overwhelming feeling that I cannot live another moment without you in the center, the very center of my life.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I am that. Marry me.”

Stepping forward to him, she felt a yearning for him that she had never known. Her heart ached just looking at him. His beautiful blue eyes were framed by his black curly hair. Her fingers touched his full lips.

He looked away, embarrassed by her close scrutiny.

She opened her mouth to speak. She’d tell him exactly how they should not, absolutely should not get married. He was O-F-F limits after all. But, no words came out. She closed her mouth.

Trying again, she opened her mouth. Just opened her mouth. And the words rose from the very center of her being.

“Yes.”

“What?” he asked. He shook his head as if he hadn’t heard her.

“I’ll marry you.”

“Tonight?”

“Why not?”

FF

“Alex wake up,” Jesse said.

Alex opened her eyes.

“I think I can do it. Did you use the bucket?”

“No,” she signed. “I don’t care if they have a mess to clean up. Plus I might need it.”

“Good girl,” he said. “Get your bucket.”

Alex felt around the walls until she reached the door. Bending down, she picked up the gallon bucket and felt her way back to the spark of Jesse.

“Hold the bucket above your head. Right there,” Jesse said.

Holding the bucket above her head, just under the basement vent, Jesse moved the razor wire tearing a hole in the thin aluminum gutter drain. Jesse moved his hand, creating an electric wall, which forced the water through the basement vent and into Alex’s bucket. She stood with the bucket over her head until the rain stopped and the gutters had completely drained. There wasn’t a lot of water, four inches, maybe more, but it was enough to keep her alive. Being careful not to spill the precious water, she took one small drink.

“Jesse?”

“Yes?”

“Will you stay with me for a while? I’ve never really been alone.”

“I’m always with you, Alex.”

FFFFFF

October 12 – 8 P.M.
Buckley Air Force Base, Colorado

“Sir,” Alex’s Sergeant said.

“Yes Sergeant,” Raz said looking up from Alex’s computer.

“Senator Hargreaves is here and wishes to speak with you. Also, we received a message from British Intelligence. One of their agents is traveling with Ben. They should arrive in a few hours.”

“Thank you Sergeant.”

“And sir?”

“Yes, Sergeant?”

“Captain Mac Clenaghan and Captain Olivas went home. I will stay until Ben arrives then I’m going home for a few hours. Sir, no offense meant, but Major Drayson would insist that you to go home.”

Raz’s face flushed with emotion. Raz nodded then returned to look at the computer.

There was no way for the Sergeant to know or understand what he had said. Raz never had a home before he met Alex. He lived in a tiny apartment in Queens with his mother until her death. He stayed in the apartment through the Police Academy. When it was time to get married, he bought a house. Even though he signed the documents and made the mortgage payments, he was always a guest in his wife’s home.

Alex made a home for him. Alex was home.

He had to fix this. He had to sort it out.

He had no idea where to even start. Alex left a plan but it didn’t make any sense now that she sacrificed herself to Eleazar.

That’s what got him the most. Eleazar was supposed to come for him next. He should be beaten, tortured and locked in some cold dark cellar. He was ready. It was his turn. But Alex stepped forward instead.

Raz rubbed his hand over his head ruffling his short hair.

“Sir, Senator Hargreaves?” Alex’s Sergeant escorted Patrick into the office.

Raz stood, “General. I’m very sorry, sir. I don’t have any news for you.”

“I didn’t come here for news, Josh,” Patrick said. “Do you mind if I call you Josh when we are alone?”

“No sir,” Raz said. For some reason, he felt comforted hearing this great man say his name. “Why are you here?”

“I came to help,” Patrick said.

“Sir?”

“My guess is that you know where she is but you don’t really know what to do next. Go to get her by force? They will kill her. Leave her and risk her being tortured. Yet you still have no idea what they want. Is that accurate?”

“Yes sir,” Raz said. “But…”

“She left a plan but it doesn’t make any sense?”

“Yes sir. But…”

“I’m a little softer and a lot older than I was when I was a Sergeant in the field, but I’m still that guy, Josh. I even still have the security clearance. Let me help. Do you know what to do?”

“No sir.”

“Then let’s start at the beginning. Where are Alex’s journals?”

“Alex doesn’t keep a journal. Not since her team was killed.”

“Alex always keeps a journal. Why don’t you see if you can find it? I bet it was either on her computer or… is there a super secure place where Alex kept things?”

“Yes sir but I don’t have her passwords.”

“Lucky she has a twin. He’s outside. Shall I get him?”

“Sir?”

“Max flew to Denver when he knew Alex was in trouble. He’s talking to her Sergeant.”

“Max is a civilian.”

“Only sort of. He’s a twin first. He’ll know the passwords. Can you get me the tapes of these phone calls? And do you have her database?”

“Database, sir?”

“It should look like a spreadsheet or maybe an address book. She might have kept it on the computer, but I doubt it. She liked to work with a yellow pencil. She would have worked with the transcripts of the calls, cross checking every word, in an effort to determine what he was after. I can recreate her work from the tapes but Alex has a real talent for understanding what motivates people, especially terrorists. That’s one of the reasons she was so good at extraction.”

Raz raised his eyebrows and rubbed his hand over his head.

“You have no idea what I’m talking about,” Patrick said shaking his head.

“No sir,” Raz said.

“You’re her partner. Right? You never saw her database? Alexandra…” Patrick shook his head and let out a breath. “She’s not really over the loss of her team. Is she?”

“No sir,” Raz said.

“We have work to do then,” Patrick said.

“Sir, she had an address book at home. She said it held all the phone numbers of everyone she’d extracted.”

Patrick nodded. “In Navajo code?”

“I believe so,” Raz said.

“Good. We’ll be able to keep those details private while working with her database. Unless you speak Navajo?”

“No sir,” Raz said.

“Where is this address book?”

“She asked Maria to keep it for her when the house came down.”

“Great. I’ll take care of the address book,” Patrick said.

Raz stood next to the computer not moving. He wasn’t sure what to do.

“Josh?” Patrick asked.

Patrick put his hand on Raz’s arm. Breathing out, Raz broke down. With his hands against his face, Raz let a few tears fall while blowing his overwhelm out in breath. Standing beside him, Patrick waited for the storm to pass. With a slight smile, Patrick gave Raz a handkerchief then patted his back.

“Don’t worry, Josh. I’ve done this before.”

FFFFFF

October 13 – 3 A.M.
Olde Town Arvada, Colorado

“Alex?” Troy whispered through a basement vent. Cutting the razor wire off the outside, he lay down across the wet sidewalk to pressed his face into the hole. “Alex?”

He would do what the spies said–don’t go get her. That’s fine. But leave her there? By herself?

She’d never slept alone. Not even one night. She went from sharing a room with Max to military life to being married. Even when she traveled with Raz, Alex always had someone close in the dark.

Troy teased her about her lack of independence. He told her that she was a child. She would laugh. She would tell him that he was terrified of commitment. And really wasn’t that childish? They would laugh. He could only imagine what how awful she must feel to be alone now.

After staring at his bedroom ceiling for hours, he decided that the least he could do was go by the building. She was only fifteen miles East of his house. Practically on the way to… some grocery store somewhere. Once there, he followed Jesse Abreu to the basement vents. A little razor wire was nothing for the needle nose pliers in his Leatherman Mini-tool.

“Alex?”

“They are monitoring me–don’t talk ok?” Alex asked.

From this position, he could only see the flash of light from her blonde hair. He closed his eyes when she grunted in pain. Reaching his hand through the vent, he clipped the inside wire. He slipped a Snickers bar through the basement vent. She chuckled, taking the candy from him, then stretched her fingers into the space. For a few minutes, he lay on the wet concrete feeling the soft tips of her fingers rub against his fingertips.

“Go,” she said.

He slipped a leather glove through the space to help protect her hand from the razor wire. Together, they put the wire back. He sat back on his heels, then, almost by instinct, he pulled his Mini-tool from his pocket and slipped it under the razor wire. He heard her chuckle again. Her hand waved ‘good-bye’ to him and he backed away from the vent.

Looking up and down the deserted wet streets of Olde Town Arvada, he turned to walk back to his car. He was two feet from the building when he was jumped. Laughing, Troy fought with two scrawny Arabs. When the last man dropped unconscious to the ground, Troy pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. He waited for the police to arrive then told them that he was jumped. Of course, his newly minted Military Intelligence Department of Defense identification kept the Arvada police from asking too many questions. Anyway, Homeland Security wanted the men on charges of terrorism. Troy was doing his civic duty, that’s all.

Troy whistled as he walked to his car. At least those two weren’t going to hurt Alex anytime soon. Honking his horn as he drove past the building, he thought he saw Jesse wave good-bye.

Maybe now he could get some sleep.

F

The Fey is the first in a thriller series written by Claudia Hall Christian.
The novel has been serialized for your enjoyment at AlextheFey.com
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com and
StoriesbyClaudia.com every Friday.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

A half hour later
October 12 – 10 A.M.
North Denver, Colorado

When Alex came to herself, she was sitting in a chair with four men standing around her. Wrapped in rope, her hands were tied to her sides and she was tied to a chair. She wasn’t sure what released her from the semi-trance state. She was just here. Closing her eyes, she remembered waking up, the feel of John’s hands across her skin, the warm burst of water from the shower and the rich coffee at breakfast. God damn it, she left her coffee.

Opening her eyes, she looked from face to glowering face and smiled.

“Hello.”

“How dare you speak to us? Filth!” A medium sized man stepped forward and hit her across the face with his open hand. He began screaming Islamic slogans at her in Arabic. His head was wrapped in a white turban and his beard was peppered with black and white. His eyes glowed with insanity.

“Do I know you?” Alex asked. Her eyes blinked at the sting of his slap. She looked at each face. They looked familiar but she had not met them before. “Oh right, you guys are on the Homeland terrorist list.”

“You insolent little bitch,” turban man said.

The man with the turban hit her across the face with the back of his hand. He spat at her face.

Alex closed her eyes against the burst of pain, then rubbed her bleeding lip against her shoulder. The man’s discharge dropped from her cheek to her shoulder. Alex shifted her shoulder and the spittle dropped to the ground.

She had no idea what they would do to her. Eleazar was a sophisticated psychological terrorist. But these guys? These men were thugs, sadists so damaged by their delusions that they were willing to do anything to get what they believed they deserved.

She knew these men and men like them. She trained, from the time she was ten years old, for the eventuality of meeting them in a room like this. She negotiated with them for the release of thousands of hostages. She knew what they were capable of. She opened her eyes to look from face to face again. Yes, she knew them.

But they did not know her.

With a slight nod of her head, she began singing songs in her head. She smiled slightly when the first song that came to mind was “Somewhere over the rainbow.”

“What can I do for you?” she asked in Arabic.

“You can get our property,” a second man came forward. He spoke English with a clipped British accent. British born Islamic extremist. He couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. Looking into his eyes, she saw his terror match his resolve.

“I am not sure what property you are referring to,” Alex said.

The Brit hit her face with his fist. Alex saw stars as her brain smashed against the back of her skull. She nodded her head slightly.

She heard her father’s voice echoing through the years.

“Stage One, is the ‘terrify you’ stage. They don’t want information. They want to set the stage, destroy your hope, and make you more compliant to what would come next. They’re going to beat you up, give you something to think about, then leave you alone to think. The real torture and raping will come much later after you’ve had time to think.”

A third man came forward holding a knife with a gleaming ten-inch blade. He held the blade in front of her eyes then pressed the razor sharp blade against her throat. In one swift movement, he sliced into her left arm.

Alex ground her teeth together to keep from gasping and returned her focus to her songs, now “Hello Dolly.” She wondered idly why these old musicals always came up first.

Squeezing the muscle and sinew, he used the knife to dig out the standard issue tracking device from her forearm. He held the device in front of her eyes on the end of his bloody knife. Dropping the tracking device on the floor, he crushed the tracking device with the heel of his shoe.

“No one will find you now,” he said.

He ripped a filthy piece of cloth into a long strip then wrapped the strips around her wound.

“We want to keep you alive for a while.”

The men laughed in unison, reminding Alex of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland. One more to go before the leader calls it off… for now.

“Hello Fey,” the fourth man came forward. “You probably remember me.”

Alex squinted her eyes thinking then nodded. British Intelligence. Collected by mistake in a raid, he had been tortured at Abu Graib. She and the team rescued him then helped him return to his family. British Secret Service believed that he still worked for them. Looking at the rubber pipe he held in his hands, they were wrong.

Letting out a breath, Alex turned the sole focus of her mind to “When you wish upon a star” playing in her head, the love in her heart, and a silent message to her twin. She felt the first blow, as the fourth man began beating her with the rubber pipe, then felt nothing else.

Her mind slipped into dreams and memories.

FF

“Why Alex? Why do you have to be a Green Beret?” John, her husband of five days, asked.

He had just learned the origins of the scars on her back, her wrists and ankles. He was furious. Unable to even look at her, he stood at the hotel window staring out at Santa Monica beach.

“It’s who I am. I’ve always wanted to be a Green Beret,” Alex said moving to him. She kissed his neck and slipped her arms around his waist. “I made my Dad pinkie swear, when I was five years old, that he would help me become a Green Beret.”

“Your father is behind this? My God,” he said. He turned away from the surf to stare at her.

“I don’t think he had much choice. I would have done it with or without his help. I think he just wanted to give me the edge.”

FF

“Pumpkin, you have to remember that they want you to be afraid. The only way to get an edge is to never show your fear. How will you do that?”

They were standing in the kitchen of their Sixth Avenue Parkway home in Denver. Patrick set the dirty dinner dishes in the dishwasher while Alex cleared the dining room table after dinner.

“Songs in my head,” said a fifteen-year-old Alex. “I do that now when I’m at finishing school.”

Patrick laughed. “I wondered how you were getting through that. What else?”

“Put the fear in a box?”

“That works. What else?”

“Don’t get ahead of myself. Deal with each situation as it comes.”

“Rest when you can,” Patrick added. He poured dishwashing detergent into the machine.

“I have to believe that I can endure everything that comes my way.”

“And then some.” Patrick closed and started the dishwasher. “Ice cream?”

“Of course,” Alex laughed.

FF

Four hours later
October 12 – 2:00 P.M.
Olde Town Arvada, Colorado

Alex awoke with the taste of ice cream in her mouth. She was lying face down on a concrete floor. Before moving, her mind ran down her bones to see what was broken, what hurt, what damage was done. She felt the sharp pain of the knife wound. Nothing seemed broken. Rolling over, she groaned in pain at the knots, lumps and bruises which covered almost every inch of her body. Gritting her teeth, she moved to sit up. Her hands ran down her body. At least nothing was broken.

She felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck. Someone was watching her. Sniffing, she couldn’t smell anyone close. There must be a video monitoring in this room.

With a grunt, she pushed herself to standing to check her surroundings. Three brick walls and one cement wall in a twenty by twenty foot storage room. While three florescent bulbs hung from the ceiling, only one bulb was lit. The light was dim in the bare, dusty room. She could see daylight from two thin basement vents. One door. Pressing her head against the brick, she heard nothing. One wall at a time, she listened. She heard a mechanical hum behind the concrete wall possibly from a heater or water system.

Maybe the door was unlocked. Pressing on the door, she saw that there was no inner handle only a key opening for a deadbolt. She pressed her shoulder against the door but the wood held. She wasn’t getting out that way anytime soon.

Someone had placed a relatively clean empty bucket by the door and a sealed gallon of water. Clearly they planned on leaving her here for a while. She picked up the water, she looked around the top and edges for a puncture. What her eyes did not see, her fingers felt. The water was drugged.

Alex turned the bucket over and stepped up to touch the wood ceiling. Pulling on a loose plank, she peeked into the space between the wood planking and the floor above. There was eighteen inches of insulation before the underside of wood flooring. No one would hear anything that happened in this room but she would be able to hear people coming and going. Just enough noise to make her feel completely alone yet no one would hear her scream, call or beg. Eleazar was good.

The light shut off.

Feeling with her hands, Alex went from hanging bulb to hanging bulb pulling on the chains. Nothing came on. Someone set up the lights to give her hope only to snatch hope away when she couldn’t turn the fixtures on. Yes, Eleazar was very good.

They had taken her shoes, her handgun, her new engagement ring, but left her fully clothed in a pair of blue jeans, a T-shirt and a sweater. She smiled when she noticed that they left John’s simple gold band on her right hand. The ring wasn’t worth much to them, but to Alex the ring was a precious connection to John. Slipping her hand under her T-shirt, she touched the diamond in her belly button and smiled. She was glad to have something from Raz.

When the lights were on, she had seen her leather jacket crumpled near the door. Feeling her way toward the door, she picked up the jacket then dropped it. The jacket was wet with urine. Her only possibility of warmth was fouled. Knowing that she wouldn’t smell much different in a few hours, and not willing to risk getting too cold while she was injured, she put the jacket on. Feeling along the wall in the pitch-black room, she sat down in the corner farthest away from the door.

Alex stuck her hands in the pockets of her jeans. Her fingers felt along the stitching of her right pocket until they found the loose string. Making certain that her movements were hidden from any night vision video camera, she tugged on the loose string opening the cotton pocket to inside of her blue jeans. Her fingers worked along the jean fabric until they found what felt like an extra stitching. Unraveling the stitching, she felt a thin piece of plastic.

Relief coursed through her. She broke the piece of plastic in half to turn on the GPS locater imbedded in the ball of her hip.

Letting out a breath, she forced herself into the sleep that her body needed to heal.

FFFFFF

Northern Scotland

Once again, John Kelly Drayson was on his way to the farm Scotland to avoid being killed. Within fifteen minutes of learning that Alex had been taken, he was sitting in the back of an armored vehicle on his way to Buckley Air Force Base. A jet to Iceland then a commercial plane to Edinburgh under the name John Rasmussen. He was escorted by British secret service to the train station in Northern Scotland where Tom Drayson waited for him.

Stepping off the train, John felt exactly as he had when he was fifteen years old–terrified and very alone. Tom Drayson touched his arm then caught him as John collapsed, weeping like a child. His sister Rita prepared his old room for him and her boys tiptoed around him. No one knew quite what to say.

John tended sheep, mended fences and cleared out stalls during the day. The hard physical labor helped sooth his anxious mind. The days passed without memory but the nights were awful.

Unable to sleep, he worked on his research paper because it was the only thing that reminded him of who he was, who he had been. He dreamed of Alex every night. His eyes bounced open every morning, his heart racing with the hope that she was laying right there under his arm.

The last time he was in Scotland, he had so many big plans. He would study hard, move to America, become a doctor, make lots of money, and find her, the woman from his dream. He dreamed of her the night his father died. Then, after acknowledging his roommate’s sister’s first visit in more than two years with something intelligent like: ‘That’s cool, Max,’ he fell into bed. Closing his eyes, he watched the same dream over and over again until he awoke exhausted for class. He stumbled, barely awake, through his morning then barged in on her in the bathroom. She had just stepped out of the shower. One look into her laughing eyes and his life changed forever.

He had achieved every dream the moment he met Alex and lost it the moment he failed to keep her from leaving the hotel. He knew it was irrational, but he blamed himself. He could have stopped her. He could have said something to break the trance. He could have… but he didn’t. And, in that one moment of inaction, he lost every single thing that he had worked a lifetime to achieve.

And the only thing that mattered–Alex.

Staring at the familiar ceiling of the room he lived in more than a decade ago, he had come full circle. Starting with nothing, he returned with nothing.

Nothing but a fool’s hope that he might see those laughing eyes again.

F

The Fey is the first in a thriller series written by Claudia Hall Christian.
The novel has been serialized for your enjoyment at AlextheFey.com
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com and
StoriesbyClaudia.com every Friday.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THIRTY

Five hours later
October 8 – 6:30 P.M.
Near downtown Denver, Colorado

“Would you like some more?” John asked. He held a bottle of Cristal champagne.

Alex rolled onto her stomach and held her glass out. They were laying, naked, wrapped around each other in a tiny CIA owned boutique hotel room near downtown Denver. After being checked and bandaged in the emergency room, John and Max were whisked through a series of tunnels into Homeland Security vehicles. Ben arrived to escort Max, and his broken rib, to a family home outside of Montreal, Canada.

But John refused to leave Alex so they compromised with this hotel. John planned to write up his research project for the Journal of the American Medical Association. Alex and Raz had bets that he wouldn’t make it a week. Alex had already arranged for his escort to Scotland.

“First,” John said.

He grunted. The bullet caught the edge of his body armor bruising his shoulder. He was bruised and sore. Yet for a man who was pronounced dead only a few hours ago, he was remarkably fit.

She crawled across the bed to kiss him. He pressed her onto her back as their passion caught. They had been laying in the bed celebrating the two year survival anniversary with champagne and love for the last three hours.

“I think the news is on,” Alex said.

“Oh by all means, I’d love to see your show,” John said rolling to his back. Plucking the remote from a side table, he flicked on the television. Alex rested her head against his chest while he flipped through the channels.

“Here we go,” he said. He kissed her head.

“Three dead as a day of remembrance turns deadly,” the FOX news reporter said.

“I think that’s a little dramatic,” Alex said.

“Lots of dead in that. How about this one?” John asked.

“A family’s tragedy deepens as Senator Patrick Hargreaves loses another son on the anniversary of his son Alexander’s death.”

“That’s a good picture of my Dad,” Alex said. “Oh look, I missed this.”

Patrick, supporting a weeping Rebecca, moved into a limousine while surrounded by Secret Service officers.

“She looks very sad,” John said.

“She’s good,” Alex said. “Look there I am.”

The camera showed a picture of blonde haired, blue eyed Alyssa collapsing in the hospital waiting room. Alyssa sobbed into Erin’s arms while Matthew pushed the cameras away. The announcer said in a solemn voice, “They were to be married in less than two weeks.”

“How did I do?? Very convincing?” Alex beamed.

“You were brilliant,” John replied kissing her. “Where is Zack?”

“Zack’s dead, John, you know that,” Alex replied in the same tone he used when he “reminded” her that Jesse was dead.

John squinted his eyes at her sarcasm and she laughed. Rolling over, she moved on top of him so that her mouth was next to his ear.

“He’s with his girlfriend.”

“Bestat the dragon?”

“Mmm… She sent me a text when they arrived in Cairo. They’ll stay at her family’s home near the Valley of the Kings until this is over.”

“And when do we think this will be over?”

“This week,” Alex said rolling onto her side. He rolled onto his side so he could look at her. “He’s had success so he will keep moving forward. We are in place to move at any time.”

“Hmm,” John said. “Dare I ask? What’s next?”

“We aren’t sure,” Alex said. She rolled onto her back to cover her lie.

“Hey.” John touched her shoulder. He misinterpreted her lie for sadness.

She looked over at him.

“At least it will be over at some point,” he said.

She nodded wishing that she had his confidence.

“I have something for you,” she said.

“A diamond?”

“Something better,” she said. Standing Alex went to her suitcase and pulled out the box she found in the cabinet in the vault.

“We got this for you,” Alex said. “It was a team present. Everyone was involved. Dwayne found it at one of those shops with junk stacked from the floor to ceiling in Abidjan, you know the Ivory Coast. He took Tommy and Jesse to see it but the shop wasn’t open. I think Paul finally purchased it like a month later. Charlie had it cleaned. Mike made sure it was authentic. Anyway, everyone had something to do with this including me.” She smiled. “Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”

She set a heavy cylindrical object in his hand. “You can open your eyes.”

John opened his eyes to an antique fountain pen with an intricate snail detail in gold overlay the black enamel body of the pen. The gold cap continued in the snail detail. Opening the pen, he made a small noise reading the inscription on the gold nib–ALCO.

“Oh my God.”

“Mike said that the pen was made 1884 or 1885 but the nib is newer,” Alex said. She pointed to the date–1915. “I thought it was cool to think about someone using this pen for thirty years then replacing the nib. The eyedropper to fill it is in the case.”

She passed him a pen case marked Aiken Lambert.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“We were going to give it to you when you finished your General Surgery certificate, but we were stuck somewhere,” Alex said. “We were going to give it to you for Christmas but…” She shrugged. “We wanted to get you something special and we knew your love for fountain pens.”

“I use my green fountain pen every day,” John said.

“The one I gave you for our one month anniversary?” Alex said.

“I write my notes with it every day. I even wrote my first prescription with that pen,” John said. “Alex, this is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. Your team… they were truly great men. I will treasure this.”

“Everyone felt involved in you becoming a doctor then a surgeon. We were proud of you. I am very proud of you.”

“Thank you,” He smiled at her and touched her face.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Dinner?”

“I had something else in mind first,” he said.

She giggled when he pushed her onto her back for another round.

FFF

One day passed, then another.

They began to believe they were on vacation. The hotel had secure connections to every major computer system with video conferencing. Alex wandered down the hall to work on the maps of Afghanistan then wandered back for lunch. Her Sergeant and his wife came for dinner one night. Raz moved into a room down the hall. For the first time in over two years, Alex and Patrick played pool with Raz for an entire afternoon while John worked on his paper. She played poker with Max via video conference between his morning fly fishing on the lake and his afternoon fly fishing on the river.

The constant pressure of pretending to be Alyssa, covering who she was, and looking over her shoulder, slipped away in this twenty room CIA created oasis. Two days passed into three days.

They were deliciously happy.

FFF

October 12 – 9:30 A.M.
Downtown Denver, Colorado

“Ah shit,” Alex said as her cell phone rang. “Do you mind?”

She and John were eating a late breakfast in a courtyard tucked into the middle of the hotel. The waiter had just set their meal on the table when her phone rang.

“Go ahead,” John said opening the Denver Post. “I have this important newspaper to keep me company.”

Alex smiled. Surrounded by CIA operatives, government employees, and various spies from a variety of countries, she didn’t worry about being overheard. Plus, she was fairly confident they were taping her calls anyway. She hoped they enjoyed their hotel room videos. Smiling slightly, she thought, better than porn.

“Yes?”

“Your friends wish to see you now,” a voice said on the phone. “We’re waiting for you in the front of the hotel. Tell him: ‘Sorry, I have to go’.”

Alex clicked off the phone. Standing, she slipped on her leather jacket.

“Sorry, I have to go.”

Smiling, John looked up from the newspaper. She kissed his lips then shook her head slightly.

“You know, he always says ‘friends’.”

John’s eyes caught hers. She seemed a million miles away. Better to just let her do her work. She’ll be back soon, he thought.

She smiled slightly and touched his chin, “I love you.”

He smiled in response. Without another word, she walked out of the courtyard and through the front of the hotel.

Raz pulled out a chair from the table.

“Where’s Alex?” he asked.

“She got a call and had to leave,” John said behind his newspaper.

“Then she won’t mind if I eat her… She left her coffee?”

John looked up and nodded.

“It was quite strange, really. She said that she had to go, then said that ‘he always says friends.’”

Raz jumped from the table and ran through the hotel. Alex was sitting in the back of a cab that was pulling away from the hotel. She turned to look at him then pressed her hand against the window of the cab. Her brown eyes were round and hollow, as if he could see straight to her soul. He moved forward to catch a cab but a hand held him in place.

“Sir, we need to ask you to return to the hotel,” the CIA doorman said. “There’s been a confirmed major threat against this facility.”

“But…” Raz said. He watched the cab move into traffic.

The doorman all but pushed Raz back into the hotel. The doors shut, then outer doors, designed to protect against car bombs, clanged shut. Looking down at his cell phone, he saw what he expected. ‘No Service.’ He threw the phone into the brick wall.

In that moment, Raz understood what Alex had told John. Furious with himself, he missed the fact that in every call, Eleazar said the word ‘friend.’ His mind clicked through a series of commands and sounds from the calls. Eleazar planted the word for the moment he would use it to control her. Walking back to the table, Raz felt his entire world crumble around him.

“John,” Raz said.

“Hmm,” John said from behind the paper.

“Eleazar has Alex,” Raz said.

F

The Fey is the first in a thriller series written by Claudia Hall Christian.
The novel has been serialized for your enjoyment at AlextheFey.com
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com and
StoriesbyClaudia.com every Friday.