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Color Blind (Team Red)

Page 3

by Hammond, T.


  I offered my elbow in answer and David led me to sit beside him as he did some screen-tapping on his control panel. David explained what he was doing, a habit he was getting into after living with me these past couple of months, to include me in what he was working on (Did I mention what a great guy he is?). “A few of the drones have streaming video, I’m going to maneuver one around to read the uniform pocket of the guy in charge.”

  Ken arrived with the laptop, and the couch shook as he plopped heavily back against the cushions on the other side of David. Anger was evident in the sound of David’s fingers, tapping computer keys fast and hard, like muffled gunshots. He was slow to anger, but when he finally reached a boiling point, he was formidable.

  “Wow,” Red said with awe, “Bas is making some really interesting suggestions to the talking guy. I’m pretty sure some of the stuff he’s saying is anatomically impossible.” There was a perceptible pause, “well, for a human anyway.” Red started to chuckle then told me a drone whizzed around to the front of the talking man and was right in his face… “No wait, it’s near his shirt. No, it’s at his face again, and just hovering there. The talking man just moved back and stepped on the soldier behind him.” The laughter turned into a snicker, “Awww, someone is embarrassed. And getting mad.” Red’s constant feedback of the conversation with the Army men indicated tempers were rising as Bas stalled and refused them entrance.

  “Captain Blair, huh? What a coincidence,” David sneered, referring to Officer Blair, formerly of the Spokane Police Department. “Looks like the Captain is probably an older brother. He’s not in a position, or pay grade, to be making threats against us.”

  “One moment,” Bas said. “I want to confer with my associates.” The front door closed, with a solid thud. “Goddamned, motherf…” the rest of Bastian’s sentence trailed off, but I’m sure he was mentally continuing the diatribe in his head. His was one brain I was glad I couldn’t tap, I was betting he knew cuss words I wouldn’t even begin to understand. He tried to tone it down around me, but every once in a while...

  David continued to tap frantically at the keyboard. If you’ve never listened to someone who can type over one hundred-twenty words per minute, let me tell you, it’s quite impressive.

  “It appears he hasn’t been able to access info on Bas and I or he’d know better than to threaten us with media exposure.” David said thoughtfully, “Teresa, how do you feel about inviting this fine upstanding example of military competence to come and have a sit-down with us? We’ll have him keep his guns outside with the two Specialists, and let him bring his Corporal inside if he prefers.” David’s tone got wicked, “and maybe I’ll conference-call a certain Colonel we work closely with.”

  “Do you trust the Colonel enough to expose Team Red?” I asked, knowing this ‘certain Colonel’ would be getting a look into Team Red’s secrets. We had agreed to limit who was included in our circle; although, Bas had mentioned, as a Team we may have the opportunity to work with the Military if we chose to. If this is a route we desired to take it would be to our advantage for us pick the military liaison we wanted.

  “Yes, Colonel Spencer is with Military Intelligence. He’s our contact on the mapping projects, so we work closely with him all the time. We are meeting tomorrow morning to go over some test data, so he may be in town already. I’ll conference call him from the Dining room table’s phone. Let’s keep that to ourselves for the first part of the conversation, I’d like to hear what Captain Blair has to say before the Colonel reams him for making comments about exposing us to the media as a blackmail tactic.”

  “You get that set up, Bas and I will attend to our guests at the door.” I called Red to my side so he could lead me to the door. “How much time do you need, David?”

  “Two minutes should do it. If I can’t get the Colonel immediately, I can record the conversation until he returns the call. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Red, I need you to take me to the door. We are inviting the talking man, whose name is Captain Blair, to come inside to talk.” I could almost feel Red’s question, “Yes, we’re pretty sure he’s related to the policeman who recorded the video of us.”

  Bas opened the front door and resumed a sharply worded conversation with our visitors. Red came to his normal place at my left thigh. He wasn’t wearing his harness indoors, but he was pretty adept at herding me around. Then again, it wasn’t like I didn’t know where the front door was.

  “When he’s sitting down, can I stare at him?” Red asked. It was a method we’d used in the past when someone stared at my facial scars for too long. Red would approach the person, sit a couple of feet in front of them, and just stare intently. Within a few minutes, most people moved along, unnerved by the dog’s unwavering attention.”

  “Good plan,” I grinned. “Just stop if one of us asks you to, okay?”

  “You got it, Beautiful,” He said, using David’s pet name for me.

  I grinned and reached a hand out toward Bas’ back (or arm, or chest … whatever, as long as my hand was high enough not to grope his ass, or worse if he turned around). To his credit, Bas didn’t start or otherwise indicate that he hadn’t realized I was coming up beside him. I curled my fingers around his left bicep.

  The men had stressed I was always to leave their dominant hands, their right ones, freed up when possible. Red and I were in the habit of approaching them from the left, which worked for me as the left was the side Red stood on when he was working.

  “Teresa,” The stranger in the doorway addressed me, “I’m glad you’re here. This ape…”

  I interrupted, “Captain Blair, we do not know each other. You will address me as Ms. March, until I decide we can move onto first names. This ape, as you call him, is my friend. You may address him as Mr. Declan, unless he says otherwise.” My voice changed from pleasant to sweetly-stern, “You are an uninvited intruder on our property, therefore, you will be civil while on our doorstep, or you will be forcibly ejected from the premises. The fact you are still standing here unharmed is a testament to our patience, and Mr. Declan’s sense of humor.”

  To Bas, I directed a sidelong look, “The Captain and his corporal may come in, but only if they leave their weapons outside with the others, who may wait in the SUV parked by the gate. No weapons. No exceptions. Red can do a final check for you, if you’d like.”

  “Ms. March, you are in no position to dictate to me. If you refuse to allow…”

  Again, I interrupted (I know, so rude), “Captain, either give up your weapons or leave. You don’t enter our house armed. You came to us. We don’t need you. Follow our rules, or go.” I turned my back, motioning Red to stay, and wandered back towards the living room. Ken, bless his heart, met me mid-way and escorted me to the dining table where David was talking quietly on the phone.

  “Ken? Could I trouble you for a cup of coffee please?”

  “No problem,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll get some fresh cups for Bas and David too. I assume we aren’t wasting good Columbian beans on the Captain.”

  “You assume correctly,” I replied, with a large smile.

  I caught the tail end of David’s conversation, “… so I’ll just place you on speaker, Sir. You’ll hear some stuff that doesn’t make sense regarding the dog, Red, but I’ll explain everything later.” There was a pause as David listened to the Colonel. “Yes, Sir. If you could just press MUTE on your end until you’re ready to join the conversation, I would appreciate it, Sir.”

  I heard clatter as David returned the receiver to the phone cradle, presumably on the ‘Speaker’ setting. David kissed my temple and stood in front of the seat to my left, and closest to the phone. “I’m moving the drone away from Captain Blair, which should let Bas know we are ready for him to let our guests in.”

  David was probably talking to me rather than our eavesdropping guest, so I replied, “Red tells me that the grumpy, talking man, aka: Captain Blair, has given his gun to one of the other men, and is coming in by himse
lf.”

  I could hear the front door close and a pair of advancing footsteps.

  “David and Bas are using sign language,” there was amusement in Red’s voice, “they are referring to the talking man as ‘the fucking moron’.”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head in defeat. It’s bad enough we can’t swear out loud in front of Red, now it turns out he’s learning the ASL swear words too?

  A chair across from me was scraped out (a noise for my benefit, I’m sure, as Bas was usually more silent) then Bas quietly took a chair to my right and David sat down at my left.

  Chapter Three

  “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, Captain Blair, that it is extremely rude to come to our home uninvited, making demands and threats.”

  Ignoring my censure, the remarkably thick-skinned Captain took the offensive, “Ms. March, you and your dog have an amazing ability. You owe it to your country to lend your services to the good of the nation.”

  “Who are you representing?” David asked.

  “Representing?” Blair was puzzled, “Why the United States government, of course.” There was a short pause. “Is? Is there a reason the dog is watching me?”

  I know, clichéd, but I couldn’t help myself, “Red is our watchdog.”

  “Har har.” Red snorted in my mind, “We have him squirming in his chair. He doesn’t like being stared at.”

  Bas interjected, “Who instructed you to come here and blackmail Team Red into working for them?”

  “Blackmail is awfully harsh, Mr. Declan. I wouldn’t have had to mention media exposure if you had just been reasonable and let me in when I asked. All I wanted was an opportunity to discuss what impact Ms. March and Red’s abilities could mean to the Army, and other branches of the military. Team Red has an extraordinary skill set that could be invaluable in our efforts to combat terrorism. It would be anti-American of them to refuse to serve their country.”

  Was I the only one that thought this was a load of crap? Who wrote this guy’s dialog anyway, a third grader? Obviously Bas thought alone the same lines, “That’s a bunch of bullshit. And who are you to decide what we should do to serve our country? David and I have a combined total of forty-one years of military service behind us. Are you suggesting we have not served our country? And did you just imply a dog and a blind woman are essentially traitors if they don’t agree to work for you?”

  Bas was on a fine roll. I smiled as I leaned back in my chair to enjoy the ride.

  “No, of course not, Mr. Declan. You and Mr. Preston have performed exemplary service to your country. But surely you can see how important Ms. March and Red can be in certain aspects of national security? They have a duty…”

  Bas took a page from my book and cut him off. “Team Red has no duty to the military. The Team lends its services to the local police department.”

  David interjected, “You never told us who you are here to represent, Captain. By whose authority are you making demands on Team Red? Who is your superior?”

  “Everyone is his superior,” Red quipped, before the captain managed to reply. I tapped a fingernail once on the tabletop to draw David’s attention to my hands, and signed Red’s remark. Both men chuckled.

  “I have not made any demands,” the Captain protested, “I merely wanted to speak to the Team to emphasize the importance of your cooperation. Your country needs you.”

  “Our cooperation for what?” I asked, impatience beginning to show in my tone, “And answer the question; who sent you?”

  “I’m not at liberty to disclose the names of my superiors,” he hedged, “and there are no specific missions lined up at this time. We just want to run some further tests on Red’s skills so we can make an informed assessment of the best place to utilize the Team’s abilities.”

  “Who wants to run the tests?” Bas asked. “What kinds of tests are we talking about here?”

  “And where would these tests be run? Under whose direction?” David jumped right in to the discussion… way to tag team, guys!

  “Um,” the Captain said intelligently. “Well, none of that has been arranged just yet. We wanted to talk about the Team’s aptitude before trying to set up testing. Ah, could you make the dog back up please? He’s staring at me.”

  “The mysterious ‘we’,” I said with a snort, ignoring his request to have Red step away. I think I heard the Captain making shooing noises at Red.

  “I think I’ve heard enough,” a voice announced over the phone speaker.

  “Captain Blair,” David inserted smoothly, “have you had the pleasure of meeting Colonel Spencer?”

  “Err, ah, no. No, I haven’t met him.” He gained a little of his lost backbone and said, “How do I even know that you’re really Colonel Spencer?”

  Right about that time, a cell phone rang from the Captain’s direction. The Colonel’s voice directed, “You’ll want to take that call, Captain. I believe that is your mysteriously unnamed superior officer calling to speak with you.” I liked the Colonel already, he apparently speaks fluent sarcasm like the rest of our group.

  “Red,” I said quietly, trying not to interrupt the phone conversation, “to me.” He must have already tired of his game, because almost immediately he nuzzled his head under my arm. “Good boy, go get yourself a treat out of the pantry.”

  “Score!” He said excitedly. His head disappeared and I heard the click of nails heading for the kitchen.

  The Captain’s ringtone cut off abruptly, “Hello, Captain Blair speaking.” Pause. “Yes, Sir.” Pause. “Err, no, Sir, but…” longer pause. “Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir. Goodbye, Sir.””

  “Any doubts about my identity now, Captain Blair?” The speaker phone voice was low and silky.

  “No, Sir. I’m sorry if you felt I displayed a lack of respect Colonel Spencer.” He added belatedly, “Sir.”

  “It’s time for you to leave, Captain,” The Voice continued, “I’ll be speaking with you later. I am sure I don’t have to emphasize that this matter is no longer open for discussion? Misters Declan and Preston are actively involved with some sensitive military projects. Leaks to the media involving them, or people closely connected, would be considered against the interests of national security.”

  “I understand, Sir.” The Captain replied. “Mr. Declan, Mr. Preston, Ms. March, please accept my sincere apologies for what I see was bad judgment on my part. I’ll see myself out, and I won’t be bothering you again.”

  There was a soft snick as the door closed gently behind him.

  “Well,” I said into the quiet room, “I’m betting that Colonel Spencer has a few questions.” I faced towards David, “Would it be easier to invite the Colonel to lunch or dinner? Maybe you can just have the meeting here in your office (we never referred to it as the Cave to outsiders, as we didn’t want anyone to guess about the hidden underground room). I believe BBQ chicken is on the menu this afternoon. I’m sure there’s plenty.”

  “We’d love to have you drop by the house if that’s convenient for you Colonel,” David added his encouragement towards the disembodied voice. “Bas and I would love to show you around our computer room and you can see some of the projects we have in the works. Nothing official that we’d want to formally present yet, but Bas made some innovative upgrades with the holographic imaging program just this week. If you like, we can do our presentation this afternoon or evening, if you don’t mind the informal setting.”

  I could hear a muffled conversation on the Colonel’s side of the phone. I guess he forgot about the ‘mute’ button.

  Guessing at least one of the problems, I added, “I’m sure you have people accompanying you, Colonel Spencer, who would probably be included in the meeting you have planned with Bas and David tomorrow; please feel free to bring along any members of your group that may be interested in the tour. Our invitation extends to them, of course. You and your party are more than welcome into our home.”

  “Sorry I wasn’t more clear, Sir,” David said, squeez
ing my hand in a silent thank you. “We have privacy here, and you and the rest of your group will find this a nice opportunity to enjoy a casual evening. It will also give us an opportunity to introduce you to Team Red. The Team is, unfortunately, not something that can be explained convincingly over the phone.”

  “Thank you, Preston. I have the other four with me who would have been present in the meeting and we are all able to head your way. It is actually more convenient to do the meeting today, as we were having some logistics challenges for tomorrow. My aide is making changes to our schedule so we are freed up until,” there was some muffled conversation on the line, “until twenty-one hundred tonight.”

  Okay, I thought to myself, twenty-one minus two is nineteen, minus ten means nine o’…

  “You’re subtracting in your head again, aren’t you?” Bas teased in my ear. “Nine PM, Babe,” he added condescendingly.

 

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