Next Exit, Three Miles

by CW Browning

  “Have you eaten?” Alina asked, emerging from the closet dressed in jeans and a loose top.

  Damon shook his head.

  “Not since last night,” he answered, his eyes dropping to her bare feet. Her toenails were still red. He didn't know why that pleased him so much.

  Alina studied him for a moment, sitting there on the edge of her bed. He looked sexy. And exhausted.

  “Why don't you come downstairs and I'll fix you something to eat? Then you can have a shower and sleep,” she offered.

  Hawk looked up at her with a slight smile.

  “No rest for the wicked,” he replied, “but I will take you up on the food and the shower.”

  Alina raised an eyebrow slightly.

  “You'll take me up on the nap, too,” she told him, walking in front of him out of the bedroom. “You're no good to me tired,” she added over her shoulder.

  Damon grinned at the back of her head.

  “I wish you meant that the way I want right now,” he murmured.

  Alina chuckled as she headed down the stairs but offered no rejoinder. Damon sighed and followed her, settling onto one of the bar stools when they reached the kitchen.

  “How are the Fearless Feds?” he asked, watching as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs.

  “Suspicious of you.” Alina set the eggs on the island behind her and went back into the fridge. Damon watched as red onion, green pepper, baby spinach and cheese were unceremoniously added to the pile on the island. “You're on their Most Wanted list right now,” Alina told him, kicking the fridge closed with her bare foot.

  Damon raised an eyebrow.

  “Any particular reason?” he asked.

  Alina glanced at him.

  “A DHS agent, an old friend of Stephanie's, was killed down in DC the day before yesterday,” she said, pulling a wooden cutting board from a drawer in the island and reaching for a knife. “It was made to look like an accident. She was poking around, trying to get information about you at Stephanie's request.”

  Alina sliced the top off the pepper with one smooth motion and looked up to gauge Damon's reaction. He was staring at her, his face unreadable.

  “Who was it?” he asked.

  Alina shrugged.

  “A woman Stephanie was in college with, apparently,” she answered, chopping the pepper quickly and moving on to the onion.

  “What happened?” Damon demanded.

  “The woman sent her an email saying that she thought she was being watched,” Alina explained, making quick work of the onion and moving over to the sink to rinse the knife. “Stephanie swears she wasn't the type to imagine things, so she became concerned when she couldn't reach her yesterday. She finally called her office directly this morning and found out that she was killed in a car accident. Stephanie immediately put two and two together and came up with five. She came in here this morning, ready to hang you from the nearest tree.”

  “Well, at least it's been an interesting two days for you,” Hawk murmured.

  Alina glanced at him as she slid the knife back into her knife block.

  “That I won't deny,” she agreed with a slight laugh.

  They were both silent as she took two eggs out of the carton and cracked them into a bowl. Damon watched as she whisked them up with a drop of cold water.

  “Where's Johann?” he asked suddenly.

  Alina glanced at him under her eyelashes.

  “In place,” she answered shortly. Damon stared at her silently and she sighed. “He's hunkered down in a house across the river and a few miles down from the island,” she clarified.

  “Have you been there?” Damon asked.

  Alina shook her head.

  “Steph and John went this morning. I let them do the physical recon,” she said.

  Damon raised an eyebrow and stared at her. Alina glanced at him and saw the surprise in his eyes.

  “It was a matter of letting them take over Johann so I can focus on Dimitrius,” she explained. “They interrupted me last night. If they hadn't, Johann wouldn't be with us anymore,” she added suddenly.

  Damon let out a low whistle.

  “How did that happen?” he asked.

  Alina shrugged.

  “They showed up at the same place at the same time,” she told him. “Two more minutes and it would have been done and I would have been gone,” she added, needing to tell someone who would understand. As soon as she said it, though, Alina regretted it.

  Damon watched as she turned to put the egg carton back into the fridge. He didn't know what to say. Despite the light tone she was using, Damon knew Viper had to be furious. That was twice now that someone had prevented her from putting a bullet in Johann, and he understood her frustration all too well. Damon mulled over the idea of mentioning that failure builds character, but he was fairly confident that was a conversation that would not end well.

  Alina took a deep breath and closed the refrigerator door. She was going to have to turn and look at Hawk, now that she had just admitted to failing a second time with Johann. Alina was afraid of what she would see in his face. She was angry enough as it was, and the last thing she needed to see was pity. Turning away from the fridge, she looked across the kitchen to Damon challengingly, her chin raised just slightly. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were bright with understanding. They stared at each other for a moment and Alina was strangely comforted. Hawk wasn't judging her. He understood her frustration.

  “And the Engineer?” Damon broke the silence, moving on.

  Alina went over to the island.

  “I'll get him when he goes for Johann,” she said, reaching up to the pot rack to pull down the nonstick frying pan.

  In her distraction, she forgot her injury and reached up with her left hand. The stretch sent a sharp stab of pain through her side and Alina couldn't stop the grimace of pain that flashed across her face. She didn't need to look at Damon to know that he had seen it. He appeared at her side a second later and took the frying pan out of her hand.

  “What happened?” he demanded softly, setting the pan onto the stove and turning back to Alina. “You've been favoring your left side the whole time I've been watching you.”

  Alina looked up into his face with a frown. She should have known he would notice something was wrong.

  “It's nothing,” she retorted.

  Damon raised an eyebrow in patent disbelief.

  “You never were a good liar with me,” he told her. “Let me see.”

  “No.” Alina stepped back quickly, coming up against the counter. “It's just a scratch.”

  Damon ignored her, his eyes dropping to her left side. He reached out to lift up her shirt and she blocked his hand at his wrist swiftly. He looked at her with a laugh in his eyes.

  “Really?” he demanded.

  They stared at each other, one laughing and the other defensive.

  “It's getting better,” Alina informed him.

  The laughter faded from his blue eyes.

  “Let me see then,” he said softly. “You're no good to me wounded,” he added.

  Alina's lips twitched, a laugh springing into her eyes. She sighed and nodded briefly and Damon lifted the side of her shirt. He inhaled sharply and lifted the shirt higher to get a better look.

  “Oh, baby, this is more than a scratch,” Damon breathed, shifting her to the side so the light was better.

  Alina felt a rush of irrational warmth at the endearment. Damon suddenly grasped her hips and lifted her effortlessly up onto the counter so that he could get a better look. It was done before Alina could even take a breath. One minute he was bent over trying to look at the wound, and the next, she was seated on the counter while he gently probed the skin around it.

  “You got the bullet out yourself?”

  His voice was sharper than he intended, but Alina didn't appear to notice as she nodded. The entry hole was partially closed now, but the skin was red and irritated and when he pressed gently, m
oisture came out.

  “It doesn't appear too infected, but this should have been stitched,” he murmured.

  “I thought it would close faster on its own,” Alina said. “By the time I realized it wasn't, it was too late to stitch it.”

  “This happened when Angela was shot?”

  Damon straightened up and turned to get a piece of paper towel from the roll near the sink.

  “Yes. The round went through her shoulder and lodged in me,” Alina told him. “I was on my way home before I even realized I'd been shot.”

  Damon nodded and gently pressed the paper towel to her side.

  “Adrenaline,” he said knowingly. “Where are the bandages? Upstairs?” Alina nodded and Damon lifted the paper towel away. “Sit still. I'll go get them,” he said.

  “I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself,” Alina muttered, glaring at him.

  Damon just smiled at her.

  “Yes, but why should you when I want to?” he retorted, turning and disappearing out of the kitchen and down the hall before Alina could think of an argument.

  She sat there on the counter for a minute, stunned. What just happened? she wondered blankly. How had she ended up sitting on the counter, meekly waiting for Hawk to reappear with bandages? Viper frowned and dropped off the counter noiselessly. This was ridiculous. She was letting him into her head and that was unacceptable.

  Alina looked at the bowl of eggs and accepted the fact that the omelet would have to wait until Hawk finished playing doctor to his heart’s content. She wandered over to the back door and looked outside. The early afternoon shadows were lengthening in the backyard and she watched as two squirrels chased each other across the deck.

  “You just couldn't do it, could you?” Damon murmured in her ear.

  Alina jumped and realized that the squirrels were long gone and she was staring outside at nothing, completely lost in her thoughts. Damon had walked up behind her without her even noticing.

  “Do what?” Alina demanded, swinging around. She was startled at how close he was.

  “Sit still,” Hawk replied. “Come into the bathroom where there’s enough light for me to see what I'm working with.”

  “I can tell you what you're working with,” Alina muttered, following him nonetheless.

  Damon switched on the bright fluorescent light in the powder room and motioned for her to sit on the sink. Alina complied with a sigh.

  “You realize this is totally ridiculous,” she said as he stepped into the small powder room.

  He seemed to suck up all available space with his broad shoulders.

  “Humor me,” he said shortly. “Can you take the shirt off?” he asked, motioning with his hand to her shirt.

  Alina raised her eyebrow.

  “Wow. Does that work on all the women?” she asked.

  Damon's lips curved and his eyes sparkled.

  “I can do it or you can, sweetheart,” he murmured.

  Alina made a face at him and lifted the shirt over her head, dropping it in the sink beside her. Damon thanked her, opening the bottle of hydrogen peroxide. He gently cleaned the wound and then folded a clean gauze bandage into a square and laid it on the hole. He covered that with another bandage and taped the whole down with tape.

  “How did you get the bullet out?” he finally spoke when he was finished.

  When Alina didn't answer, he glanced up to see her looking sheepish. Damon straightened up and looked down at her, wiping his hands on the clean hand towel. His lips twitched.

  “Spit it out,” he said. “Tweezers?”

  “I couldn't find them,” Alina murmured, feeling her cheeks growing pink and hating herself for it.

  Damon saw the blush and started to grin.

  “Pliers?” he asked.

  Alina shook her head and reached into the sink for her shirt. Damon leaned against the door frame and considered her thoughtfully. The blush wasn't going away.

  “Roach clip?” he guessed, drawing a laugh from her.

  She finished pulling her shirt over her head and got off the sink.

  “Metal nail file,” Alina murmured.

  Both his eyebrows soared into his forehead.

  “I'm sorry, a what?” Hawk demanded incredulously.

  Alina shrugged and squeezed past him through the doorway.

  “It was the only thing readily available,” she muttered as she passed.

  Damon watched her walk away with a grin.

  “Do you even know what a nail file is?” he called after her.

  His answer was the finger, held up without a glance back.

  Hawk burst out laughing then, a rich, full laugh that echoed down the hall and struck right into Alina's heart. A grin tugged at her lips despite herself. She lit the burner under the frying pan and picked up the eggs, whisking them again briskly. When Damon entered the kitchen a moment later, carrying the empty bandage wrappers, she was at the stove, making his omelet.

  “Where's the bullet?” he asked, throwing the wrappers into the trash under the sink and leaning against the counter next to the stove.

  Alina glanced up into his face, a little disconcerted at the novelty of having someone in her kitchen while she cooked.

  “Downstairs,” she answered. “I ran ballistics on it this morning.”

  “Find out anything you didn't already know?” Damon asked.

  Alina shook her head.

  “Nope.”

  She turned and retrieved the cutting board with the vegetables from the island and Damon grabbed a handful of peppers off the board as it passed him.

  “Israeli?' he asked, popping the peppers into his mouth.

  Alina nodded and started adding the vegetables to the omelet.

  “He's old school,” she said. “5.56 Galil Sniper. He probably used it because the distance wasn't far. It was only about 500 meters, if that.”

  Alina set the cutting board aside and watched as the omelet bubbled up around the vegetables.

  “You're lucky it didn't do a through and through and go right through you,” Damon told her.

  Alina glanced at him.

  “I'm lucky he missed,” she retorted.

  Damon looked at her sharply.

  “How so?” he asked.

  “He was aiming for Stephanie,” Alina said, reaching back for the cheese and pulling a Microplane grater out of the drawer in the island. “If he hadn't missed, she would be dead.”

  Damon watched her grate cheese into his omelet silently.

  “I want to see the bullet,” he said suddenly after a moment.

  Alina nodded and motioned to one of the cabinets.

  “You will. You want to grab yourself a plate?” she said.

  Damon turned and got the plate out of the cabinet. Alina slid the omelet out of the pan and onto the plate, and Damon smiled at her.

  “You're too good to me,” he told her.

  “I know,” she agreed. “Now eat it while it's hot.”

  Damon grabbed a fork out of the drawer and took his plate over to the bar. Alina rinsed out the frying pan while he started to eat and cleaned up before going over to sit next to him.

  “Tell me what you found out in Cairo,” she said.

  Damon glanced at her.

  “You already know what I found out,” he countered.

  Alina glanced at him.

  “True,” she agreed. “You could have just asked me. You didn't have to go all the way there.”

  Damon forked some eggs into his mouth before getting up and going into the kitchen to get a bottle of water out of the fridge.

  “You know it doesn't work that way,” he said, coming back with another bottle for her. He handed it to her as he sat down. “The powers that be need proof.”

  “Were you shocked?” Alina asked after a moment.

  Damon looked at her.

  “I'm more shocked that he made it onto Capitol Hill,” he said. “I wouldn't have thought you would let him get that far.”

  “It wasn't
my business,” Alina said in a low voice. “Sometimes the people need a hero. And when they do, they don't care about the past.”

  She opened the water bottle and took a sip while Damon ate in silence for a minute.

  “Did you ever tell anyone?” he asked.

  Alina shook her head.

  “No,” she said. “That's not something you tell anyone.”

  “But that's the reason you disappeared,” Damon prompted.

  Alina nodded.

  “When we start to question why we're being used, then it's time to take a step back,” she said quietly. “I can accept that what we do is needed to preserve a very volatile sense of balance in this world. We do what governments can't, or won't, do publicly. But two years ago, I ended up in a place I shouldn't have been, acting on orders that were based on lies, and witnessing something that I was certainly never supposed to see.”

  “You know you were never meant to walk out of Cairo alive, right?” Damon asked, glancing at her.

  Alina lifted her eyes to his and Damon recognized the look deep inside them. She knew. She had spent two years knowing that she had walked away from her own death sentence.

  “Yes,” Alina said simply.

  Damon stared at her for a minute thoughtfully before going back to his eggs.

  “That's why they wanted you to come finish Johann here,” he said after a minute. “They don't expect you to succeed here either.”

  “Oh, I'm aware of that too,” Alina said with a slight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. “Is Harry the reason you're here?” she asked suddenly. Damon glanced at her and she met his look squarely. “Harry would have sniffed out this whole debacle long ago. You're clearly being protected by DHS and the only one who can do that so effectively is Harry. He didn't send you for containment, did he?”

  “Yes and no,” Hawk answered after a long moment of silence. He finished his omelet and drank some water. “It's complicated.”

  Alina stared at Damon for a moment. She suddenly had a full understanding of Stephanie's frustration with the word complicated.

  “So you're still not going to tell me,” she stood up and picked up his empty plate, her eyes meeting his. “Just remember that blind trust only goes so far,” Alina told him softly.