Friends of my Enemy:
Stories from the War
by Autumn M. Birt
Copyright 2015 Autumn M. Birt
Cover art by Autumn M. Birt © 2015
Including the epic fantasy trilogy the Rise of the Fifth Order
Born of Water Novel Companion
Born of Water
Rule of Fire
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This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for you use only, then please visit your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Novels in the Friends of my Enemy series:
Book 1: Stories from the War
Book 2: After the War
Book 3: Battle for Europe
Book 4: The Fight for Peace
Learn more about the series Friends of my Enemy here, including background information and release dates.
Dedication
To Kym S. for the many hours of help, beta reading, and of course years of friendship!
And to Michael C. and Scott K. with thanks for the helpful suggestions and encouragement.
Lastly to my Raven for the many evenings of late, and sometimes burnt, dinners as well as always being willing to come up with a name on the drop of a hat or discuss the intricacies of electrical generated shields.
Table of Contents
Part 1: First Meeting
Part 2: Orders
Part 3: Stirrings
Part 4: Beginning of the Guard
Part 5: War in the Streets
Part 6: New Heir
Part 7: Loss
Part 8: First Foray
Part 9: Changing Tide
Part 10: No Quarter
Part 11: Last Battle
Excerpt from Friends of my Enemy: After the War
About the Author
First Meeting
January 2055
Dammit, he wouldn’t do this. Not to her.
“Would it make a difference if I told you I was a Barón?”
“Perhaps,” Arinna snapped, “if this were a Jane Austin novel.”
“Arinna, it is just a lunch date!”
“I heard the stories. It is never just lunch with you, Byran. Excuse me - Baron Vasquez, I am married. Happily, actually.”
Byran sat back in the café chair, crossing his arms while giving her that trouble-making smile that Arinna wouldn’t admit jumped her pulse. His black hair and dusky skin contrasted with a white shirt that cost more than she made in a month. Everything about him exuded his heritage and confidence.
“Then why are you here talking to me?” he asked. Two weeks and she already hated him.
“The only reason Michael hasn’t gone to the ambassador,” she said, “is because I assured him I could make you back off. That is why I’m here. You’ve been ... impossible since the holiday ball. Why do they even hold such things anymore?”
“You should learn to appreciate a good party. They are a way to forget how crazy the world is getting.” Byran leaned back enough to sweep her with his eyes and gave her a wicked smile. “And happy 2055, by the way. Since you haven’t let me say it in person before now.”
“Let you say? You can’t track me down in the embassy whenever you like or call and say it is for an important meeting. Do you want to lose your job? Or make me lose mine?”
He sulked. “Allow you to be sent back to that agujero de mierda of a country? No. I’d rather you stay here.” Byran held up a hand as she prepared to berate him. “But you are wrong. I’m not trying to interfere. I am trying to help.”
“How is stalking me a help?” Arinna hissed, keeping her voice low. The customers seated at nearby tables glanced toward their animated discussion. Arinna sat back, her hands shaking too much to reach for her teacup.
She wasn’t certain what to do. If she were home, she would demand Byran’s arrest. But here, in the EU, the rules she knew didn’t apply. And if she caused too much of a fuss, she’d be replaced and sent home. She had to handle this for herself and for Michael. Arinna squeezed the bridge of her nose, strategizing how to deal with Byran.
He was watching her without the amusement that had lit his eyes at the ball as well as the beginning of this hastily arranged meeting. Michael had agreed to its necessity, but not liked the idea. Arinna expected to see him through the front windows, watching them from across the street.
“I forget how different it must be for you,” he said, refocusing her scattered attention. “You are unmoored here, aren’t you? No military law to organize everything you can and cannot do.”
Arinna swallowed hard, refusing to admit how right he was. “What of it?”
“Don’t you wonder why all the previous occupants of your post failed?”
“Terissa’s term was over and she was rotated out. I was rotated in. She didn’t fail.”
“After six months? Please, no embassy has that short of a staff rotation. She wasn’t effective. They sent you, hoping you will be more so. Just like her previous counterpart and the one before that.”
Arinna’s mouth was dry. She reached for her tea, savoring the warmth of the cup in her hands as she took a sip. The day was cool for Madrid, so everyone said. It was cool compared to home. Two weeks had not been adequate to acclimatize. Across the café table, Byran watched her with the same observant look. Doubt grew in her like a strangling vine.
“So you are trying to say you haven’t been stalking me since the ball, but that this is your way of offering to help me succeed? Why?” The last came out forcefully, fueled by exasperation.
“What can I say? You seem different from your fellow countrymen. I thought you might even have been enjoying yourself.”
“Hardly. Fun is against the law in the USA.”
Byran shot her an amused glance over his coffee cup, one that warmed his eyes. Arinna was dry-mouthed again.
“See? I’ve not met anyone else from the New States who’d dare make that joke. I like you. Are you happy? I admit it - you are beautiful, and you are unfortunately married,” he added hurriedly as she opened her mouth. “As well as possessing a smart sense of humor. What is wrong with liking you? You are too good for that country you call home. I cannot believe a delicate redhead with such blue, blue eyes can be from such a cesspool. You should stay here in Spain. I can help you.”
“I can imagine what you want to help me with.”
“I might surprise you,” he said with a grin, something wicked and a little wild in his looks. It didn’t add to her confidence that he wasn’t going to cause more trouble.
Arinna shifted in her chair. “I doubt it, considering what I’ve heard about you,” she shot back.
“You’ve been interested enough to research me. Bueno! I will behave, as you say,” he added. “If you will at least treat me as a friend.”
“I didn’t think you knew any women with whom you were just friends,” Arinna said, sitting back in her chair, and trying to measure his sincerity. It was hopeless. She hadn’t known Byran long enough to be able to read him. Not to mention that he refused to conform to any standard she tried to place him in. Arinna had never expected the EU to feel so alien.
“Ah see, you will be good for me,” he said, leaning forward to squeeze her hand and immediately letting go when he saw the spark in her eye telling him he’d not merely crossed a boundary, but had leapt over it doing the salsa. H
e leaned back, grinning again.
She wanted to hit him. Instead, she laughed. Damn her if she couldn’t tell him to leave her alone and make it stick. Two weeks she’d been telling him or avoiding him, and it led up to this. “I’m not going to lunch with you. Or dinner, so don’t ask. And don’t call my embassy every day. We danced at the ball. That is it. Everyone thinks we’re having an affair!”
“Well you certainly weren’t with your husband that night.”
The comment and look in his eyes scalded her cheeks. “He was there meeting other staff and our NATO officers, networking.”
“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t leave you unattended,” Byran said low enough she leaned forward to hear. “You need connections to succeed. Correct?”
Arinna nodded, too flustered to trust her voice or words.
“I will introduce you. Your counterparts do it wrong. They barge in like your military government and demand quick answers. That isn’t how it is done here. I’ll show you.”
She’d wondered if Byran understood the risk he put her in. What did a handsome Spanish baron know of famine and riots? Back home, if a state wasn’t being shredded by the weather, it was being torn apart by its populace. The militarized government kept tight control, at least of the things it could. The EU was strained, drought and unrest more common than in decades past. But Europe rose above the darkness spreading through the rest of the world. It had food, industry, and stability. Byran had a sport’s car for goodness sakes.
But now she wondered what she understood of Europe. Its people hadn’t grown up with gunfights over food or with martial law locking down riots while the military organized relief after the most recent storm.
Thoughts like that made his company dangerous, Arinna thought, rubbing her forehead. But he might be right. He might give her an edge others before her hadn’t had. Others who had failed and been sent home with no promotion to help in a turbulent world and a deeply troubled country.
“Okay,” she said in answer, pulse picking up a step. “But only work related! Nothing else, understand?”
“Yes. We are to be work friends,” Byran said, purring the final word.
Arinna meant to say, “As long as you respect my boundaries.” Instead, she shook her head at the glint in his eye and how he unrolled a smile, fighting one of her own.
“Yes, work friends,” she choked out, attempting to be serious. Which was not going to be easy with him. “We’ll only see each other in our official duties.”
“Good! What are you doing tomorrow?”
—
“You had tea with Count le Marc and his heir ... what is his name?”
“Jacque,” Arinna answered, pulling off her boots. She eyed the worn scuffs on the toes. Polished silver and fine porcelain cups sprang to mind. “Damn him,” she swore under her breath. To Michael, she added, “He is an actual baron. The family is political. He grew up with most of the elite sons and daughters of Europe.”
“Yes, I know,” Michael said, bending to kiss her forehead.
“You researched him,” Arinna replied with a laugh.
“You are not the only tactician in the family,” he teased.
“So you see how useful he can be? One day, and I’m on first names with the best political dynasty of France!”
“Yes, well, I think he was trying to impress you.”
Arinna waved her hand. “So what? I can use Byran. If he wants to introduce me to everyone of importance in Europe, why not let him?”
“Are you certain you’re fine with this? With spending time with him? You seemed ... unnerved last week,” Michael asked, his light hazel eyes concerned.
“I misread him. I thought,” Arinna shook her head, dismissing old ideas. “Well, I still don’t entirely trust him. But if our assignment is to build connections, then he can be useful.”
“Useful, yes. But that doesn’t mean he is worth the risk. I heard the rumors,” Michael said.
“He tries to tumble every woman on staff at every embassy in town. Do you really think he’d interest me?” Arinna asked, snorting at the idea. Michael chuckled as well, sliding his arms against her waist when she turned to check the contents of the fridge. The dinner choices overwhelmed her nightly. Most of the produce they had here was beyond their budget in the States.
“I think if he touched you, you’d most likely drop him to his knees before he blinked,” Michael said, voice husky as he whispered into her ear.
“Oh, like our first meeting?” Arinna said, leaning back to swipe his lips with a kiss.
Michael’s smile brightened the grey flecks in his eyes. “What is it?” Michael said, as Arinna’s gaze remained on him.
“Old memories,” Arinna said, shaking her head before pulling out a packet of cheese. “Remember when we used to camp in the Outlands and explored those empty towns back before I finished college?”
“Of course. It is where I spent my time when not flying. Other girls I dated wanted to go to nice restaurants. You wanted to explore places emptied of people by disease and tempests, tempting fate to see ruins. Not that I ever minded spending a weekend in a tent with you.”
“Hah. We were both immune to HALO, why would I worry about old contagions? I barely remember when the world was so full, before the diseases.”
Michael looked over at her as he put a pot on the stove. “It’s not like you to think about the past,” he said. “Are you sure you are alright here? It was a difficult choice to come to the EU.”
“Really, I’m fine. It is an adjustment. I’d barely been off the east coast, but for our little explorations inland. Maybe I’m a little homesick, but it hasn’t been a month yet. I’ll adjust.”
Thankfully Michael let it go, turning on the stove instead of replying. To herself, Arinna admitted how much easier the States had been despite the problems of the last decade with its devastating storms, droughts, and fires. The only thing she hated about the new military government had been when they’d locked down the Outlands. She’d loved those wild and empty places, witnessing a world unlike any before with a world population not seen since the 1970’s.
She’d enlisted, just like Michael, because of the riots that erupted after hurricane Lempert drowned Florida when she was fifteen. Because if she didn’t fight the chaos, she would become part of it. The riots after hurricane Dexter devastated New York in 2048 proved she’d made the right choice. They’d needed the military and its martial law to control the fighting and organize relief aid. That was also the year she met Michael. It had been her first as a student in West Point and his first as a new officer in the Air Force, fresh from his two years of training.
She’d never dreamed of going so far from home. Here in Spain, they were with a handful of embassy staff, most pseudo-military rather than having actually served in the forces. The military government was only three years old and still adapting to be more than a defensive force. She and Michael had left their country and traditional military careers behind for this assignment. Their altered government needed allies, food, and new industry to rebuild from the chaos of the decade before. Her country had changed, but it was growing strong again. She wanted to help.
That was why they were here. Why she had to adapt to Europe and its ambiguous rules of conduct of who was entitled to what rank and privilege. It made no sense. Byran was the first person who had bothered to explain any of it to her. She never would have imagined she’d be grateful to him.
“What about you? How are you doing? You gave up flying for this assignment. We could be here at least a year, assuming we are moderately successful,” she asked her husband, realizing that she at least had Byran showing her around.
“I miss flying, of course. But it’s hard to start a family if my feet are never on the ground. Besides,” he added, more serious, “I’m DSS and dealing with the intelligence and orders coming through. Most of my day isn’t much different from home. I just don’t get into a plane right now. It’ll be worth it when we go back. My rank will
be high enough that I can train or command and still come home to you.”
“That would be nice,” Arinna replied, imaging a life returned to normal after this ordeal was over. For that possible life, she could struggle through her time in Europe. “Byran already has another visit set up for the day after tomorrow, but he won’t tell me where.”
“You really are going to spend time with Byran and let him take you around?” Michael asked after a pause. His tone and sudden stillness made Arinna glance up from the tomato she was slicing.
“I ... yes. For now at least. He really has been useful despite having to fight him off and remind him constantly that I’m happily married.”
Michael snorted, crossing his arms as he leaned against the kitchen counter. He didn’t laugh.
“If you don’t mind? I think he can give us an advantage. All the previous incumbents of this post didn’t last six months. I checked into it.”
Michael frowned. “He might be useful. Just, Arinna, be careful around him.”
“You really don’t like him, do you?” Arinna asked, walking over to slip her arms under Michael’s. The tension left Michael’s frame as he pulled her against his chest.
“No. I don’t like the interest he has in my wife.”
—
“You look quite beautiful today,” Byran said, glancing over at her.
Arinna waited for the inappropriate remark to follow. When Byran said nothing else, she glanced at him. He was focused on the road ahead. Which was good. They were cruising at nearly a hundred.
Beyond Byran lay rolling hills flashing by at a pace that should have felt far too quick. It definitely shouldn’t make her grin. Sunlight warmed her face, falling through the open top of Byran’s convertible. The world raced by, wind streaming around the car. But she and Byran were insulated from it, bathing in sunlight and music. It was so easy to forget herself.
“I figured if you were going to drag me to every politician, duke, and prince for tea, I’d better do some shopping.”
“You should get a dress, something lightweight for the summer.”
Ah, there was the comment. At least the thought. “Byran, I will never wear so much as a skirt around you.”
She didn’t even need to open her eyes to see the wolf’s grin on his face.
“So do you want to know where I’m taking you?”
“No.”
Byran darted a glance toward her. The car veered into the other lane.
“For God’s sake, Byran! If you are going to drive this fast, please keep us on the road.” Arinna swore, pushing herself out of her relaxed pose.
The car oscillated once more before stabilizing in its hurtling orbit. A mile went by before Byran broke the silence. “You are getting used to our game then?”
Arinna rolled her eyes at his lack of apology. “By game, if you mean ‘work related outing,’ then it is easier to find out where we are going when we get there than trying to get it out of you beforehand.”
“I could be just taking you for a drive down the coast.”
“In which case, this will be our last work related outing.”
“Ah see, I think you are starting to enjoy this. No,” Byran interrupted as Arinna began to respond. “I know the truth. It is good to see you are having fun. I won’t tell. You said it is against the law.”
Arinna’s exasperated sigh held a hint of laughter. She knew it. Byran did too. He sang to the music as he floored the gas pedal.
When they pulled up at a gated compound half an hour later, Arinna realized this visit was different from the last five. She sat up, smoothing her blouse as she looked down the long drive.
“Where are we?”
Byran didn’t stop at the gatehouse, but rolled through at a steady pace. The gate swung open a breath ahead of the car.
“Ambassador Eldridge’s compound.”
“The ambassador for the UK? You hang out with Ambassador Eldridge enough the guards don’t stop you at the gate?”
“I’m friends with his son,” Byran said with a grin.
“Of course you are,” Arinna deadpanned. She frowned as a thought stirred. “He lives less than an hour from Madrid. We’ve been driving for over three.”
“I took the long way. Scenic route as you say?”
She nearly hit him, but a worse realization occurred to her. “Please, Byran, don’t tell me we showed up at an ambassador’s house unannounced because you are friends with his son!”
“Okay, I will not tell you,” he said, tossing her a wink as he opened his door.
She considered not getting out of the car. But Byran walked to her side, opening the door like she was royalty ... or a prisoner. She felt like the latter. Byran waited for the space of a breath before he leaned closer, moving to see her face since Arinna sat staring straight ahead.
“Byran, so help me if you get me fired,” she hissed, forcing strength into her voice to offset the liquid fear in her.
“We are expected! I want you to meet my best friend. You know I would not do anything to get you sent back to that country. I don’t want you gone as much as you look like you don’t want to go back. Trust me.”
“I haven’t known you even four months, Byran. How would I know if you’d dragged me somewhere with no plan?” Arinna said, brushing moisture from her cheek before swinging her feet out of the car. “And what have you done to earn my trust?” she asked as she stood.
They stared at each other a moment. Byran finally glanced away. He placed a hand on her shoulder to guide her up the steps.
“I will be a better friend, I promise,” he said to her quietly.
The time it took to be shown into the study was enough for Arinna to shake off her fears. They were there now. She had to make the most of it. When the door opened, she was ready. But even Byran appeared surprised by who walked in.
“Mr. Eldridge!”
“Good afternoon, Byran, and Ms. Prescot was it?” Ambassador Eldridge asked, giving Arinna’s offered hand a squeeze. He stood a fraction taller than Byran, granting him a younger and more vigorous appearance than his light grey hair suggested. “Derrick was called home. His uncle is ill, my late wife’s brother,” he said to Arinna. “He told me you were coming and I said I would entertain you both, no need to call and cancel. Very noble of you, Byran, introducing Ms. Prescot to other embassy staff. Please come. There is tea in the back parlor. It gets lovely sun this time of year. Oh, and Charles Lewin will be joining us. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Thank you, Ambassador Eldridge,” Arinna answered. “It is a pleasure to meet you and very gracious of you to take the time.” Eldridge waved the gratitude away as he escorted them through the house.
“Who is Charles Lewin?” Byran whispered in her ear.
“Minister Lewin. He is on the UK Defense Council, liaison with NATO.” Arinna glanced at Byran, who shook his head. “For working as PR staff at the Spanish embassy, you really aren’t into politics are you?” Arinna asked with a laugh.
“And you are,” Byran responded as they turned into a sunlit room.
“I am a political officer for the embassy,” she pointed out.
Introductions were made. Lewin offered a firm handshake, his neat suit not hiding broad shoulders or efficient movements. All of which hinted at Lewin’s military training. Arinna kept her guard but felt relaxed around the tall, black man whose eyes were kind as he evaluated her and Byran.
The conversation remained polite for almost an hour. Tea and sandwiches were served along with comments on the coming spring, the new road along the Costa del Sol, and the flooding in the UK. Arinna waited, sensing an undercurrent. It was not her place to steer the conversation.
“You were active in the military, were you not Ms. Prescot?” Minister Lewin asked. Arinna released her tension on an outward breath. Now, they would talk.
“Yes. Four years,” she answered, pleasantly.
“I didn’t know that,” Byran said, disgruntled.
“You never as
ked,” she pointed out. Byran shrugged.
“Was that before or after hurricane Dexter and the riots on the east coast?” Eldridge asked.
“After. Dexter happened my first year of West Point.”
“Tactical training, wasn’t it?” Lewin asked over the rim of his cup, eyes holding no doubt of the answer.
“Yes. Military tactics and strategy.”
“So what do you think of the USA’s response,” Eldridge asked fluidly, as if it were the natural flow of conversation ... or very well rehearsed.
“In regards to?”
Lewin offered polite laughter. “The riots after Dexter, the personal weapons quota, the roundup of excess weapons in depots?” Lewin waved a hand to encompass all the policies enacted since 2048 and the response after Dexter.
“The laws were, of course, unfortunately necessary,” Arinna answered by rote. “The riots were ... terrible. Dexter destroyed New York, but it also badly damaged Boston. After the riots, the city was unlivable.”
“Yes, but military rule of the government? That doesn’t seem extreme to you?” Lewin asked, leaning forward.
“Extreme,” Arinna paused on the word. “The military rule started the year after I graduated from West Point. I was already active duty by then. It felt like ... a blessing. We finally were able to restore order and dissipate the chaos.”
Byran shifted uncomfortably.
“It isn’t a popular sentiment in Europe,” Arinna acknowledged. “Things have been bad here, for certain. But you retain a large portion of your agriculture and manufacturing. You’ve lost cities to the flooding, and people to HALO. I don’t know what it felt like to you the last decade, but I can tell you that I have only vague memories of a life that didn’t involve fighting. Lempert took out Miami and the Everglades when I was twelve. HALO hit when I was fifteen. There has been little but fighting for supplies and clean water for years. Most states were under martial law before the government transitioned to military control. At least under the new military government, there is no fighting in the street anymore. Sections of cities have rebuilt.”
“So you have no problem with the loss of democracy and the suspension of voting?” Lewin asked.
“Of course. But it is temporary.” Arinna set her cup down and leaned forward. “The change in the US government has made the EU uncomfortable. You cannot imagine the chaos we were dealing with back home. We’ve had to reorganize states, abandon others as unsustainable due to the storms, pollution, or cost of repairing infrastructure. The choices are difficult and politically unpopular. Which is why politics was taken out of the equation. Once things settle, the government will revert. For now, the military does the best it can to select acceptable leaders.”
“Yes, the military. And here you are with a qualified background and at a strategic post making connections,” Eldridge mused. “You do not aspire to a leadership position, do you, Ms. Prescot?”
“To rise higher than Warrant Officer? Certainly. I want to help guide the country. But I would think by the time I returned and was promoted, we will have returned to a democracy. I will help as a peacekeeper, not a politician,” she answered. Eldridge broke eye contact, glancing away thoughtfully.
“You support all of your government’s, excuse me, military’s policies then?” Lewin asked flatly.
“No,” Arinna said with amusement. She sat back in her chair. “I think the weapons depots are a mistake. They make too tempting of a target for those who are unhappy with the current state of things.”
“Yes, but obviously they are protected,” Lewin responded.
“Yes. But people can be bribed, soldiers can be lax. There are too many, spread too far apart to be strategically and efficiently monitored. Though I cannot say how many or where, of course.”
“I’m with NATO. I know how many weapons bunkers there are,” Lewin said.
“You know how many they told you there are,” Arinna answered. Lewin put his teacup down.
Eldridge snorted. “Did you really think the USA liaisons with NATO disclosed everything?” he asked Lewin. To Arinna he said, “My son served with the British Army. It is a shame you could not meet him today.”
“Yes, it is,” Byran said with a yawn.
“My apologies, Baron Vasquez. I did not mean for the talk to trend toward military topics. But what do you expect with three, at least, interested in defense in the room?”
Byran’s easy smile took on a cold cast. But his response was interrupted by a knock on the door. Eldridge rose to speak to his servant. The humor fell from his face, glance darting to Lewin.
“You should return to your embassy, Ms. Prescot. I think you will be needed there,” Eldridge said, returning but not sitting down.
“Why? What has happened?” Arinna asked, rising to her feet along with Byran.
“We’ve just had news of an attack, a large one, in the USA.”
“Where?”
“New Chicago. A group has claimed responsibility. They call themselves the FLF, Freedom Liberation Front. Have you heard of them?” Eldridge asked, waving for Lewin to stay behind as he escorted Byran and Arinna out of the room.
“No. There are several groups that formed in response to the martial law. But I don’t recognize that name.”
Eldridge paused, holding her gaze. “You should.” The moment passed as he turned, indicating a waiting maid. “Clara will see you out. Have a safe drive back,” he said as he left them.
“I didn’t know any of that about you,” Byran said as he drove them back to Madrid. Thoughts circling on the conversation with Eldridge, Arinna had forgotten about his presence.
“Well, you are usually too busy showing off to ask about my childhood,” she responded, blushing at the words as soon as they were spoken. “Byran, I ...”
“No. It is true,” he said, surprising her with his unruffled ownership of a fault. Michael would have stormed off. The comparison sent a jolt of confusion through her. She looked away, hoping it didn’t show on her face. “You, though, you seem more than a political officer,” he added, voice serious but without accusation.
“What would you think a political officer for a country under a military government and stationed at a foreign office would be like?” she asked, careful her voice betrayed no nervousness. “I kept my rank. I am military.”
“Well, I wouldn’t think they’d be so cute.”
Arinna rolled her eyes, not fighting the smile he elicited.
—
“FLF?” Michael asked.
“Freedom Liberation Front,” Arinna told him. “Ambassador Eldridge made it seem that we should have heard of them. You haven’t either?”
“No. I can ask,” he offered.
“Quietly,” she cautioned.
“You got the impression we haven’t been told about them on purpose?” Michael asked, amused. His smile evaporated when she didn’t answer. “Our country wouldn’t lie to us.”
Arinna leaned across the table and took his hands. “How many diplomats and foreign officers are here under the same orders? We’ve seen the change over in staff at this embassy. We’re lucky to have lasted this long. And that’s it. I’m starting to realize how replaceable we are if we don’t create the connections they want,” Arinna said, not wanting to admit how much she’d come to question their assignment. Some days it felt like they’d been shipped to a minefield without any warning and no map. “If this is something high up back home, why would they tell us? We aren’t exactly in the loop of terrorist threats and containment over here.”
“I’ll see what comes over the bulletins the next few days. And there are a few people outside our operation I could ask,” Michael said, giving her hand a squeeze.
“How bad was the attack?” she asked.
“From the reports, the blast took out half the city.”
“How did they locate the materials to make a bomb that big? There aren’t enough unregulated supplies or ammo for that.”
“Black market could ha
ve improved since we left?” Michael hazarded.
“In four months?”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Michael said, leaning into his chair. “After what you heard from Ambassador Eldridge, you think they got government supplies. Someone let them into a depot.”
“It is the only thing that makes sense.”
“From where we are sitting.”
“Which is out of the loop,” Arinna admitted with a sigh. Michael would never doubt his commander or his country. These days, those amounted to the same thing. “You’ll tell me if you hear more?”
“Of course.” Michael said, giving her a smile that touched his hazel eyes. It stirred a memory of a campsite in the wilderness when they had been explorers of abandoned worlds. “How was your day with Byran?”
“Oh please, if I talk about it I’ll get mad again.”
“That bad?” Michael asked, amused.
“I thought we had shown up at the Ambassador’s unannounced.” The choking memory of sitting in Byran’s car flooded her again. “He drives too fast, he never listens, he ...”
“He took you to the Ambassador’s where Minister Lewin was waiting.” Michael said, taking her hand and then pulling her to his chest. “You made more progress in contacts this last month than I have in the four we’ve been here,” he added, kissing her scalp.
“I don’t know if he is worth it.”
Michael chuckled at her exasperated tone.
Arinna used the attacks as an excuse to avoid Byran for a few days. Not that there was much to do. But she needed the break from him. The blast and hunt for suspects afterwards consumed all resources, at least those in the US. Communication to the embassy in Spain dropped to a few scattered updates or obscure questions. It was nearly a week since the attack before Michael came home, expression serious.
“You heard something?”
Michael shook his head. “Not about who they are looking for or that group, the FLF. We have orders.” Michael finished, cutting off Arinna before she could speak. Her mind went blank.
“They are recalling us.”
“No,” Michael paused. “You don’t want to go home?” His steady gaze splintered her thoughts.
Blushing, Arinna glanced away. “No! I ... it’s just.” Arinna took a deep breath and looked back at her husband. “I’ve seen the families here, and at home, and ... here it’s different. It reminds me when I was a kid, before the fighting in the streets and the riots. Children run and laugh and don’t just play war. I didn’t believe this sort of world existed. I ... I’ve been thinking. Michael, this is where I want to start our family. Then when the US stabilizes, we’ll go back. I know how important that is to you.”
It was his turn to be at a loss for words. Finally he stammered, “You’re pregn—”
“No! Goodness, you think we’d talk about it first. Maybe, in a few months ... if you want? If we can manage to stay here that long.”
Michael pulled her against him, his arms pressing her tight. “Of course, I ...” He pulled back to look in her face. Arinna was relieved to see the light in his eyes and the smile. Her heart flipped as his lips found hers, passion taking her breath and thoughts.
It was several minutes later before Arinna remembered the start of their conversation. “We have orders?” she asked.
“Yes,” Michael laughed. “Apparently to avoid being sent home for a year, at least,” he teased. She elbowed his stomach. “We are to feel out what countries will be willing to send troops or supplies to deal with ‘internal unrest.’“
“They are preparing for a civil war,” Arinna said on a whoosh of breath.
“It looks that way,” Michael agreed, hooking her shoulder length hair behind her ear. “It might not happen. It is just a feeler. You know our government. They like to be prepared.”
“True,” she agreed, holding him tight to block her unease.
—
“You don’t look like you’ve taken a break since I last saw you,” Byran said, appearing beside her desk.
“You are back. How did you get in here? Only US Embassy staff is supposed ...”
Byran waved her question away. “I told them we had a meeting. No one cares. So you knew I was gone?” Byran asked with a suggestive smile.
“Don’t be too pleased. I wasn’t looking for you. Ambassador Eldridge sent me a note in response to my thank you for his entertaining us. He mentioned you and his son were in the UK at a funeral. The sick uncle?”
“Yes, Derrick’s uncle. David’s, Ambassador Eldridge’s, brother-in-law, not that he bothered to come. I wouldn’t trust him too much,” Byran added, frowning. “I’ve known him a long time and he is hardly the nicest of men.”
“Yes, and I could imagine what he’d have to say about you, having watched you grow up with his son!”
Byran coughed on an embarrassed smile. “Perhaps you have a point.”
“So what are you doing here?”
“I came to take you to get a good cup of coffee. I can imagine the pathetic crap they serve in here.”
“I drink tea, Byran.”
“Well, then I know you are suffering. Americans cannot make decent tea. Come on, get your coat. It’s raining.”
Byran wouldn’t leave. Curious eyes watching their exchange convinced Arinna to go with him faster than any promise Byran could come up with. Byran was full of chatter as they made their way to a café and ordered. The funeral, Derrick’s new title, and the slight to Ambassador Eldridge that the title went to his son rather than him. The information meant little to Arinna, washing over her without sticking.
“You’re not going to ask what it is?” Byran was grinning.
“Ask about what?”
“I said I had information for you,” he repeated.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Information about what?”
“The FLF,” he said, sipping his coffee. Arinna’s focus snapped into place. She stared at him, noticing the sun had come out and slanted across his face, brightening his dark curls. He had brown eyes, a soft sable. She hadn’t noticed that before. “Ah, now I have your attention. They formed in response to the military rule, I think.”
“You think?”
“It might have been due to the quotas on personal weapons and limits on ammunition,” Byran said with a shrug. “The beginnings are a bit murky.”
“So they are US based,” Arinna mused.
“They are the US. From what I read a quarter of the government is part of it. You haven’t been asking about them, have you? It looks like a witch hunt over there after the bombing. Anyone with suspected ties has been detained.”
“No. I haven’t. Michael,” Arinna shook her head, wanting to race home to warn Michael and rejecting the idea at the same moment. He’d promised to be careful. “How did you find this out?”
“I told you, people do not ask questions. Even in my embassy. I have friends in intel. I went in and asked, they showed me. No one cares what I hear. I know what my reputation is. They don’t believe I’ll do anything with the information.”
Arinna smiled into her teacup. “I don’t know what to say. You’re sure you won’t get into trouble?” She almost said that his friends probably thought he’d use the information to impress a girl. Then she realized he just had. Damn him.
“No. That is the beauty of it. I can learn things for you, take you places that you would not be able to go because they would consider you a spy. But if you are with me? No. They think you are with me. I will help you with the real reason you are here.”
Arinna leaned against her chair, eyes locked in his. “I’m just a political liaison, one of the newest assigned to the embassy.”
“Of course. You belong to a militarized country and are a tactical expert with recognized field leadership that became a low rung political liaison in a key ally embassy.” He paused, the half smile he wore a tad sharper than his usual easy-going smile. “I’ve been doing my homework.”
“I’m here to pro
mote ties and secure food. We need to rebuild our country. You know very well your agriculture and industry has been less impacted by the changing weather patterns.”
“Probably because we prepared. And by industry, do you mean weapons?”
Arinna gritted her teeth. “Who have you told this theory to?”
“No one. I like you Arinna. I want to help.”
She shook her head. “Everyone has a motive. I’m not going to be blackmailed into ...”
“Yes, I realize that. As much as I’d thoroughly enjoy a relationship with you, a mutually agreed to one preferably, that isn’t why I’m doing this. Certainly not to force you into one. I have nothing better to do. After all of these years of working at the embassy, you’ve actually gotten me interested in politics. Even if it is just to scare myself with what it is your country is doing. We are friends, yes?”
“Yes,” she answered, taking an easier breath. “Some days, I don’t know what to think of you. What else did you learn?”
Byran grinned. Then he told her.
—
It was uncomfortable, pretending to be Byran’s latest girl. The impression pricked under Michael’s skin enough that his hostility to Byran authenticated the rumor. It was perfect.
Michael would never have agreed to it if two days after Arinna had told him of Byran’s offer and information on the FLF, Michael hadn’t been called to speak to his supervisor. But not in the office. Instead they met on an open runway at the airport, supposedly inspecting a potential security threat at the US hanger. Michael had been distracted enough at the longing to fly again that he hadn’t realized how quiet his supervisor had been. At least not until they were alone in an empty building and the Major pulled a gun.
The conversation had been brief and off the books. Otherwise, the gun would have been used. The thought unnerved Arinna so much that she’d fretted for days afterwards whenever Michael was late or didn’t check in. Michael’s informal, and thankfully not persistent questions, regarding the FLF had gone back to the Major, but no further. If Michael dropped the questioning and said where he’d heard the name, as well as anything else he’d learned of the group, the matter would be forgotten. In the half year he’d been with the embassy, Michael had proved himself. It was what kept him alive that day.
Michael lied. He protected Byran and instead said the FLF had been mentioned in chatter he’d picked up from the Italian flyboys visiting the week before. Michael hung out with any pilot that flew through Madrid. It was believable and got him off the hook. It got him home to her. He was safe, but she could see the doubt in his eyes. He wouldn’t talk about it. She’d never seen his faith in the military shaken before and wasn’t certain how to help him.
Now the only source for information came through Byran, and the world he opened for her. The price was to pretend to enjoy it while being nothing more than the newest girl on Byran’s arm. She wasn’t certain who disliked the situation more, she or Michael. Byran loved it.
But the information made the ruse worthwhile. For every late night out with Byran as they attended balls, clubs, or private dinners, Arinna would stay up until dawn giving Michael information and assurances. The strain ate at her, but as unrest at home grew and official information became more unrealistically bland, she and Michael both knew Byran was their best source. What she overhead in unguarded moments while staff drank wine, flirted, or complained was invaluable. So she continued while Spanish spring changed to the heavy heat of summer.
Arinna’s cell phone buzzed silently in her pocket. She pulled it out without checking the number. Only two people typically called her and it was too early for Michael to be checking in.
“What are you wearing?”
Arinna smiled at Byran’s smooth voice, as she pushed the report she was idly working on across her desk.
“That is not your concern,” she answered. But she laughed, undermining her cool tone.
“Hmmm ... I get to use my imagination then. Bueno.”
“I do hope there is a reason you are calling,” Arinna said, cheeks hot.
A new political officer, barely two days at the embassy, glanced over while the woman’s trainer whispered to her. The new staffer’s eyes grew wide. Such was the price of knowing Byran. Arinna turned away from the snooping two.
“Of course. I missed you and wanted to hear your voice ... which is why I managed to get us invited to the ball at the Brazilian Embassy tonight.”
“I see. And give me one good reason I should change my evening plans to go with you?”
“Because there is someone there with news on the bombings,” Byran said, the teasing gone from his voice.
“Plural?” Arinna asked, keeping her tone light. The new woman blushed scarlet.
“Yes. You’ll come?”
“I can arrange it,” Arinna said, feeling breathless.
“Good. Wear something low cut. The night is supposed to be warm even for late July. Besides, you know how the Brazilians like a good display of skin.”
“Not just the Brazilians, I think,” she replied drily. Byran was laughing when she hung up.
Michael wasn’t home when she needed to leave. She left a note wishing he could answer his phone, but personal calls were limited while he was on duty. When they spoke at work, it was in code and often stilted. At home they barely saw each other with the time she spent gathering information.
Byran picked her up, his black convertible spotless. “Not home?” Byran asked, glancing toward the house as he met Arinna at the gate.
She shook her head. The pressure of his hand on the small of her back deepened with the motion, edging her closer as they walked toward his car.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell him I’d be out,” Arinna said as Byran opened the door for her.
“Well, we’d better go before we need to explain,” Byran said with a wink. Even though doing nothing wrong, he made her feel a tremble of illicitness.
Byran’s arm was around her waist again when he handed over the invitation. She leaned against his chest, feeling his warmth through a fine shirt. In the summer heat, the fabric of clothing created what felt like an ephemeral barrier over skin.
“I almost wish they’d refuse to let us in. We’d have to find another way to spend the night,” Byran whispered in her ear.
“Yes, I could spend some time with my husband for once,” Arinna replied.
Byran let out a puff of breath. “Well, we are all out of luck, I guess,” Byran said as they were waved in.
Arinna had become an expert in pretending to drink. Byran kept her distracted and laughing enough to appear tipsy. The rest of the act required carrying a half empty glass and occasionally raising it to her lips. Sometimes she simply filled her wine glass with water. Together, she and Byran danced, chatted, and waited. The times before had taught her that information came after the first two hours. The best came after at least three. This time, though, the informant was as sober as her and wouldn’t talk.
“Not in Madrid,” he said, accent thickening the quietly spoken words. “There are too many dangers here, for both of us.”
“Then where?” Arinna asked, frustrated.
“I own a boat docked in Porto Banus. Come for the weekend, both of you,” Marco said with a glance at Byran. “We can talk there.”
That wasn’t enough to entice her. “That would not be possible.”
Marco’s gaze fell on a woman standing at the far end of the hall, her sleek summer gown contrasting with the frown pulling at her mouth as she stared at them. The look in her dark eyes was not jealousy.
“If I could borrow your lovely companion for a dance,” Marco asked Byran before leading Arinna away. “Smile,” he said to her in a low rush, “please.”
“You can’t expect me to believe you have information just because you say so,” Arinna replied, providing the requested smile.
“Two bombings after the first,” Marco whispered in her ear. “And one depot has been emptied.”
Her eyes jumped to his as he pulled away. She remembered to laugh, a blush rising by accident more than design. He relaxed.
“If that is true ... but why tell me? What do you want?”
“Information as well. We can help each other. They are not just a US problem.”
The dance ended, Marco returning her to Byran before disappearing. She was still pondering the information and the offer when Byran dropped her off at home, peeling out as he raced off.
“No,” Michael said, pacing across their living room. “This, THIS, is bad enough!” he said, gesturing to the clock. Arinna winced when she read 2:20 in the morning. She rubbed a hand across her eyes, not relishing an argument.
“What if it is true?”
“What if it is just a ruse of Byran’s to get you away for the weekend?”
Arinna blushed, but couldn’t deny there was a note of truth in the accusation. That would be something Byran was capable of. But would he? Michael was staring at her. “You’re right. If we could verify the information, it would be worth going. But I don’t know how to without a risk. Not after ...” Apparently, she didn’t want to talk to the threat their commander had made to Michael as much as he didn’t.
Michael ran his fingers through his hair. His buzz cut was growing out, she realized. She’d never seen him with hair longer than a half inch.
“Well?” Michael asked.
“I’m sorry. I’m half asleep. What did you say?” Arinna admitted.
He sighed, sitting next to her on the couch and taking her hand. “I said, I can at least see if there were other bombings. If there were, we’ll decide then.” Michael glanced away, uneasy with the idea.
“Agreed,” she answered. “Can we go to bed now?”
Michael checked the satellite imagery. The data wasn’t closely watched, he’d learned. Scrolling back through the records, he found the signs of two large explosions: one in Georgia and the other Michigan. It took a lot more pacing, but he agreed she should go.
Arinna found two benefits to the weekend. The first was that Marco gave her and Byran separate rooms, as if he knew the relationship were a ruse. The other was information. Marco had knowledge of new exclusion zones and stricter curfews. Her government was tearing itself apart looking for members of the FLF.
“The focus is not on gaining allies to rebuild. Surely you’ve noticed that?” Marco asked.
“Yes. We’ve been told to look for commitments of arms and troops, not food or industry,” Arinna admitted.
Marco painted a similar, if less paranoid, picture of Brazil.
“They are there too?” Arinna asked.
“Yes. I’m not certain where else in the world or who else I can trust to find out. Be careful who you ask. The US measures are total. Either you aren’t aware of the FLF or you are with them.”
Arinna nodded. “I noticed. I’ll contact you if I learn anything of use. It will be small details, more a lack of information in most cases than not.”
Marco’s gaze was appreciative. “Good. It is good you can see the blanks in what they say.”
July fed into August with deeper heat and storms lashing across the Mediterranean. The US felt distant, its problems locked behind silence an ocean wide. Staff was not rotated out. Despite that, everyone eyed each other nervously in the halls of the embassy, but no one knew why. Or at least no one would admit to knowing why.
Outside the embassy, Arinna spent most of her free time with Byran. Compiling information on home became more of a mission than finding allies or securing promises of weapons. Michael’s job was to keep their superiors happy. Hers was to know why they really wanted the information they asked for, hoping this new chaos would end soon. She wanted her country to return to emerging out of the decade of darkness that had plagued it before. She had believed in the future she and Michael had mapped out before coming to Europe.
Weekends away to Marco’s boat made her miss Michael’s company, but they proved to be worthwhile as her network grew. Though not every moment was an investigation. As if sensing the strain, Byran worked hard to distract her. The nights spent drinking wine and talking with Byran until dawn jarred her when she returned to the embassy. She lived two lives, not always certain which was meant to be the serious and which promised moments of fun.
As the months turned toward a slight coolness of promised fall, Arinna began to hope for a return of normalcy. No new information on attacks came from any source. In fact, information on some admitted problems, dealt with now, did come through the official channels. The embassy no longer felt oppressive, even if people watched each other from the corner of their eye.
—
“We could go to the Pyrenees this weekend. We haven’t gone hiking in years,” Michael said.
“I think there is a ball at the Chinese Embassy to celebrate Moon Cake Day.”
“Of course.”
It was Michael’s flat tone that pulled Arinna’s eyes away from the autumn jackets in the window display. She made a mental note of the store name, not daring to buy a coat that expensive while out with Michael. Especially considering his mood. Catching up to his side as he paced away, Arinna threaded her arm under his, clasping his hand.
“You’ve been away every weekend since ... I can’t remember the last time you were home,” he said, injured heart in his eyes.
“I know. I’m sorry. You’re right. We should go away. Hiking sounds nice.” And a weekend with her husband would seem a rational reaction to save their marriage. People would expect that.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if,” Michael stopped, turning his face away.
“If what? Michael ...” The confusion cemented into a terrified truth when Arinna saw the tears in his eyes. Her thought of needing to pretend to save her marriage the moment before sickened her stomach further. “I’ve never cheated on you. I swear. I haven’t so much as kissed him.”
Michael’s eyes shimmered as he held back whatever emotion rose. Arinna couldn’t read his face. Desperate to understand her husband, and realizing she didn’t, made her shake.
“What do you do on those weekends away then?” he asked, voice harsh. He stared at her, not reaching to erase the tears leaving cold lines on her cheeks.
“Talk. He tells me about growing up here and life in Spain.”
Michael snorted. “You expect me to believe that?”
Hearing it, Arinna didn’t believe it. She fumbled to explain the truth, while the strategic part of her mind caught the people staring at them, giving a wide berth as they walked by. Perfect, her mind hummed, this will make the affair seem that much more real!
“You agreed to this,” she hissed, not wanting her words to carry. “I’ve told you everything!”
“Do you know how many people have come to warn me about you and Byran? I have seen you together, you know. You are more than friends. I think you forgot to mention that.”
Standing in front of Michael while trembling so that her hands shook, Arinna wanted to scream. I haven’t done anything wrong! The other side of her counted every weekend away and the times she hadn’t given Michael her attention, but had given it to Byran. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d kissed Michael. Her mind repeated that thought over and over. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d really kissed the man she married. Now, he was staring at her like she was a stranger. And she was. She didn’t know who she’d become. Almost become?
Michael waited for her answer, expression a storm of anger and separation. As if to add the final insult, her phone rang. Fumbling it out of her pocket, she could barely read the number. It was Byran. Of course. Michael laughed a cold rasp as who was calling registered on her face.
“Go on. Answer it.”
“No.” She flicked it off and shoved it back in her pocket before she threw it against a wall. Anger cleared her mind, erasing the trembling in one rush. “I can’t do this. Not anymore.”
Michael paled, swallowing hard. A bit of the anger was replaced with an expression she recog
nized at last. He was afraid.
She managed the next words with warmth fueled by emotions other than a desire to lash out. “Michael, nothing is worth losing you. We can go home, if that is what you want. If that is what it takes. Things seem less crazy back there. But either way, I’m not doing this anymore.”
His phone rang in answer. He tensed when he saw the number on the screen. “Call him back.”
“What?”
“Something has happened. Call him back and see what he knows. I’ve got to go in. But,” he turned back to her, hazel eyes dark again. “This isn’t over. Be home tonight. God dammit, come home tonight or it is over.”
He left her standing in the boulevard, people glancing at her as they walked by. She was trembling again when she hit redial.
“Arinna, why didn’t you answer? There has been ...”
“Byran, we need to talk,” she managed to choke out before she started crying.
Stories from the War: Military Dystopian Thriller Page 1