Learning to Stand

by Claudia Hall Christian

  “When will I see you again?”

  “When we do,” she said.

  “Then,” he said. Before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms and kissed her lips. She pushed at him but he held her in place. “Thanks.”

  “Fucking MI-6,” she said.

  She followed him out the window.

  F

  CHAPTER twenty-nine

  Sunday afternoon

  March 30 – 4:05 P.M. MDT

  Buckley Air Force Base Jail

  James Kelly set Alex down to wipe the tears from his eyes. As if to make certain she was real, his eyes searched her smiling face. He hugged her again.

  “You okay, Alex?” Trece asked.

  “This is John’s brother, Trece.”

  “John? John Kelly?” James asked Alex. “You found Johnny?”

  “I’ve been married to him all this time,” Alex said.

  James laughed his way through introductions to Trece and White Boy.

  “Where’s Jesse?” James asked.

  “I’m sure you know everyone was killed. Joseph is here but Jesse didn’t make it,” Alex said. She sat down on her bunk and tapped a spot next to her. James sat down.

  “I talked to Sean Hudson,” James said. “He said Jesse is a spirit. It doesn’t surprise me much. You guys were inseparable.”

  “How would you know that?” Alex asked.

  “I’m quite the Fey expert. You’d be surprised. When they put up the Fey museum, I’m fairly certain they will invite me to be curator.”

  Alex laughed.

  “I’ve thought you were a dream,” he said. “I was in the hospital for months… two or three. I wasn’t fit to work for another four months. When I asked my command what happened, they told me a US Special Forces team retrieved me. I asked about the woman, my division chief shook his head. He made like I was barking mad.”

  Alex smiled.

  “You extracted that Irish singer?”

  She nodded.

  “I took the tabloid picture to my command and told them you rescued me as well. They sent me to medical. Barmy. What’s an industrious SIS agent to do? I started researching. I’m telling you. I’m quite an expert on you.”

  “How did you end up here?” Alex asked.

  “I saw the vid. I will never forget your tattoo. Never.” His hand touched her left arm as if to trace her blue fairy tattoo through her long sleeved T-shirt. “It even feels the same. And I’ve been looking for Robert Powell for some time.”

  “Why?”

  “A Major Drayson?” He looked at Alex.

  “Lieutenant Colonel, now,” She nodded.

  “Lieutenant Colonel Drayson sent an Interpol flag on a particular British diplomat. He’s dead.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said. “He called to warn me about the hit on my life last year. Fuck.”

  “Your flag said you have a video message with Robert Powell in the background?”

  “From the map phone.”

  “The map phone?”

  “I work on maps for the Intelligence Center.”

  “The Fey series maps. I have quite a few,” James smiled. “Saved my ass more than once.”

  “Yes, those. They have a phone number on the maps for people in the field to report changes, missing details or inaccuracies. The map phone is also the best way to make sure I get a message.”

  “We believe Robert Powell killed the diplomat right after the video message was taken. Was Robert Powell unaware of the video camera?”

  “Probably. The Intelligence Center didn’t add video to the map phone until last year some time. The Boy Scout isn’t the sharpest tack in the drawer.”

  “I have a warrant to arrest him. I’ve spoken with the Denver Police. They’re working on transitioning him to British custody.”

  “Why is Her Majesty’s Secret Intelligence Service involved?”

  “We’ve a peripheral interest in your problem – Joiner, Powell and… what do you call the agent?”

  “The Weasel?”

  “Yes, the Weasel. I’m here, in person, to assure you that neither Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II nor SIS were involved in any way in the murder of the Fey Special Forces Team.”

  “What about Prince Phillip?” Alex attempted a joke.

  “Yes, the octogenarian consort to the Queen is the mastermind behind every conspiracy.”

  James rolled his eyes. Alex laughed

  “Don’t start,” James said. “I have been asked to inform you that Her Majesty’s Secret Intelligence Service would like to facilitate the creation of another International extraction team.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Some of our boys have gone missing.”

  Nodding, Alex smiled.

  “I don’t feel like I properly thanked you for saving me.” James kissed her cheek. “I wouldn’t have lasted another day.”

  “I was lucky to find you.”

  “Some day you’ll have to tell me how you found me,” James nodded. “For the museum and all.”

  Alex laughed.

  “I’m here until the Denver Police Department releases Mr. Powell. In the meantime, I’ve been instructed to share our information on Joiner, Powell and the rodent.”

  “The Weasel?” Alex asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you get me out of here?”

  “Sorry love, not until you speak to the Denver Police Department,” James said. “They’re on their way.”

  Alex scowled.

  “What shall we...”

  Trece held a deck of cards through the bars. Alex took the cards from him.

  “Cards?” Alex asked.

  “I’ve heard you’re wicked good at poker,” James said.

  “I’ve had two surgeries in less than a week. How good can I be?”

  Outside the cell, Trece and White Boy laughed.

  “You have to shuffle,” Alex said. “My hand’s too swollen.”

  “I’ll regret this,” James said.

  Alex smiled.

  FFFFF

  Two hours later

  Sunday evening

  March 30 – 6:30 P.M.

  Buckley Air Force Base Jail Meeting Room

  The nicest thing about her ‘visit’ with the Denver Police was that her sister, Samantha, was sitting next to her. Samantha had a gift for terrifying men. The Denver Police Detectives had barely entered the room before she had them cowering. Alex admired her skill.

  The second nicest thing about her ‘visit’ with the Denver Police was that, at Sami’s insistence, they gave Alex some pain medication. She should feel some relief from her arm surgery soon. She hoped.

  There was no third nice thing.

  She was only counting nice things to keep her mind off the fact that the entire thing sucked. Absolutely and completely sucked. These Detectives dug up every detail of her relationship with the Boy Scout. She was glad James was able to provide the police with classified photographs of her after the first time the Boy Scout attacked her at Cheyenne Mountain. James’s laptop also provided the security video.

  Nodding, she told herself that the third nice thing was James and his laptop. ‘Cold as ice’ Sami clutched at Alex’s hand when James played the video footage. Alex felt her sister shake.

  The first time, the Boy Scout stunned her with a sap. And things went down hill from there. Alex only managed to get away because Jesse came down the hall looking for her. It took three men to get the Boy Scout off her.

  Yeah, the video wasn’t so nice.

  “Why wasn’t this assault reported to the local authorities, Ms. Hargreaves?” the thin police detective asked.

  “Lieutenant Colonel,” Samantha said.

  “Lieutenant Colonel Hargreaves. There is no record of prosecution for this incident.”

  “We received a call from the President to attend to a matter of urgency,” Alex said. “In the middle of attending to the President’s issue, we were called away to rescue six United States soldiers. W
e spent a month with them in the hospital. After the soldiers went home, we went back to work on the President’s issue. It was four months before anyone had time to fill out the paperwork. Mostly, we were certain we would be rid of the Boy Scout in a month or so, so we didn’t sweat it.”

  “What happened?” the round police detective asked.

  “Everyone was murdered,” Alex said. “Except the Boy Scout and, well… me.”

  “And a Captain Walter?” the thin police detective asked.

  “The Boy Scout took his place while Captain Walter was on family leave,” Alex said. “He was in Denver when everyone was killed.”

  “Will there be anything else?” Samantha broke in. “As you can see, the Lieutenant Colonel is exhausted and would like to go home.”

  Alex watched the thin police detective open his mouth and spew a bunch of meaningless words. Samantha responded in kind. Blah, blah, blah.

  As they argued back and forth, Alex noticed the round police detective assessing her. Her eyes shifted to stare at the man. He nodded his head at her then pretended to listen to Samantha and the other police detective argue. As soon as she looked away, he would look at her.

  “Come on, Alex,” Samantha stood. “You can go home now.”

  Alex and James Kelly stood when Samantha rose to standing.

  “Your client will be available if we need her,” the thin police detective said.

  “My client is on active military duty,” Samantha sniffed at the detective. “She has answered your questions in detail. She will be available when she has time.”

  “She’s in the custody of Her Majesty’s Secret Intelligence Service, sir,” James said. “We have a wee bit of priority in this matter.”

  The thin detective curled his lip at James, his accent and his ‘wee bit of priority.’ They were almost out of the room when the round detective put his hand on Alex’s arm. She turned to look at him.

  “I know who you are,” he said.

  She reviewed his face.

  “My sister’s husband...” He started.

  “I will speak with you but not here,” Alex said. “We need a ride home.”

  “I can take you home, Alex,” Samantha said.

  “Raz should be coming out of anesthesia. I know he’d really like to see a friendly face.”

  Samantha nodded.

  “James? Would you mind working out the details of my captivity with the police?”

  “Your captivity?” James laughed.

  “What’s it called?”

  “Custody.”

  “Same thing,” Alex said.

  “I’ll do it,” James said.

  “I need a moment with my client,” Samantha said.

  Sam’s eyes shot daggers at James. He put his hands up as if she held a loaded gun. She raised an eyebrow to Trece and White Boy. Trece bowed to her.

  “We can go to my office or you can come into my cell,” Alex said.

  “Cell’s closer,” Samantha said.

  They entered the cell. Trece and White Boy turned their backs to them in a silent wall of flesh. Samantha plopped down next to Alex on her cot. When Samantha leaned in, she broke into tears. Alex put her arm around her while Samantha cried into her shoulder. Trece turned to see what was going on. Using her fingers, Alex ordered him to turn back around.

  “I knew this one was bad, but last time... Oh my God, Alex. How did you deal with being beaten up, almost raped, under Cheyenne Mountain?” Samantha whispered.

  Alex shrugged.

  “Oh Alex, I’m so sorry,” Samantha said. “I’ve been angry with you for needing me here when the campaign is going on. I’ve been working like twenty-four hours a day. The Senator has been enraged. But this is...”

  “I appreciate your help, Sami,” Alex said. “I could never have handled all of this without you.”

  Samantha wiped the tears and mascara from under her beautiful blue eyes.

  “He’s so awful, Alex. How did he get his Beret?” Samantha asked.

  “I’ve never been able to answer that question. Ever. I don’t know anyone who trained with him. We had his records, but... According to the journals, the ones I found in the vault last year, I was working on his background when everyone was killed.”

  Samantha grabbed Alex in a hug then shook her a little bit.

  “I wish you wouldn’t say ‘everyone was killed.’ You’re still here. Joseph is still here.”

  Alex shifted back from her sister. There was no way for her beautiful sister to ever understand that everyone included her. A part of Alex, the Fey part, was killed October eighth under the streets of Paris.

  Everyone died.

  Alex gave Sami her ‘you’re so bossy’ smile. Samantha laughed.

  “You better get going,” Alex said. “I know Raz is going to want to see you. Last I heard his prognosis is very good. You can walk with him this afternoon.”

  Samantha smiled at the thought.

  “You’ll be all right with the detective?” Samantha asked.

  “He wants to talk to me,” Alex said. “It’s either let him drive me home or deal with him later.”

  Samantha nodded.

  “Just be careful,” Samantha said.

  “Always.”

  Alex gave her older sister her most confident smile. Samantha hugged her again then stood to leave.

  “See you tonight?” Alex asked.

  “Dinner at eight,” Samantha said. “I’ll see if we can’t bring Raz home. He’s not going be happy away from the action.”

  “Of course,” Alex said. “I think there’s a plan in the works.”

  “Great!” Samantha smiled. Her cell phone rang and Sam’s demeanor changed. Her smile dropped. She held her head with her left hand as if her head was going to explode. “Yes? That’s correct. I’ve been in a meeting, sir.”

  Alex could hear a man’s voice screaming over the telephone.

  “Yes sir. I will be in the car in three minutes. We can speak then.”

  Before Alex could say anything, Samantha walked out of her cell. With Trece and White Boy at Alex’s side, they followed Samantha out of the building. Samantha never noticed that James held the door for her. James pointed toward an idling undercover Denver Police car.

  “I’d like to sit in front,” Alex said.

  “Okey dokey, Lieutenant Colonel,” Trece said. “We lackeys will sit in the back.”

  “Who are you calling a lackey?” James asked. “I’m no manservant.”

  “I’m not … what he said, either,” White Boy said.

  “I’m...”

  “I need to speak with the detective,” Alex turned in her seat to scold her children. “I need some silence?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “James.”

  “Whatever you say, my Fey,” James said.

  Shaking her head at the men in the back, she turned back to the detective.

  “What did you want to speak to me about?” she asked.

  “I know who you are,” he said.

  F

  CHAPTER thirty

  “And what should that mean to me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I remember,” Alex said.

  “Did you bury him?” the detective asked.

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

  The detective nodded.

  “How was he buried?”

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

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