by Laura Acton
With no time to brush his teeth, the fuzzy cat inside his mouth would have to go with him. Dan shoved his feet into his cross-trainers without socks. He staggered to the door, only realizing as he went to open it, he needed his keys and wallet … he could not run in today … it would kill the tiny part of him which still lived. Stumbling back to his bedroom, he swiped the items off his dresser and also picked up his go bag, after tripping over it on his way back to the front door.
By the time he made it to his truck, Dan managed to pry open both eyes, necessary for driving. He glanced in the rearview mirror. The face peering back sucked. Puffy, bloodshot eyes, dried snot under his nose, disheveled hair … at least that could be considered a messy style. Jon is gonna ream my ass today. He opened his gym bag, pulled out a water bottle, then soaked a t-shirt and scrubbed his face to remove the crusties before turning on the ignition.
TRF HQ – Gym – 6:10 a.m.
Jon eyed Dan as he worked out on the heavy bag. His primary sniper appeared off … his routine switched up. Dan started on the stationary bike, with his earbuds in and eyes closed, virtually ignoring the rest of them for a longer and harder than usual ride. Then Dan moved to the weights, doing a strenuous upper body workout, again eschewing conversation.
While Dan wrapped his hands before using the punching bag, Bram tried to engage him, but Dan’s monosyllabic answers were out of the norm, or more correctly the new norm. His behavior now was reminiscent of the soldier who joined them, not the more open and jovial man of late. Jon had not seen this closed off version for a long time and wondered what caused the change.
Although Jon didn’t think Dan was one to pout, possessing a thicker skin, the only reason he came up with for this change was Dan might be peeved none of them wished him a happy birthday as soon as he arrived this morning like they usually did to team members on their birthdays.
Their lack of acknowledgment was on purpose, wanting to surprise him after shift with the party. When they received notification last night about covering for Bravo Team, Nick arranged things with Gambrill so they hopefully wouldn’t end up with overtime and ruin the festivities entirely.
The sense something besides pouting sourced Dan’s demeanor came over Jon, and another idea formed as Dan hammered the bag. Merrill’s court martial started today. Dan might be distracted by thoughts of the man who deceived his father and came close to ending his TRF career by damaging his lungs in the attempt to murder him. Unable to shirk his duty as tactical lead, Jon set down the dumbbell he was doing bicep curls with and ambled over to Dan intending to talk with him to find out what was up. “Dan, take a break.”
Dan stopped punching and peered at Jon for the first time since arriving. He studiously avoided doing so to hide his less than stellar condition as he endeavored to sweat out any residual alcohol from his body. The pain his aggressive workout caused, with a throbbing post-alcohol-binge headache, was welcomed as it distracted him from the emotional agony and heartache today always brought. Sweating profusely, Dan realized Jon would not be fooled much longer, and steeled himself for the verbal dress down.
Up close, the bloodshot eyes and alcohol odor seeping out with Dan’s perspiration led Jon to an unmistakable conclusion as he recalled Dan’s plans to hang out with a couple of buddies yesterday. Dan is hungover! Anger replaced concern as other thoughts came to mind. I notified him only two hours after work last night we would be on shift today. To reach this level of hangover, means Dan continued to consume alcohol, deliberately breaking my cardinal rule. No excessive drinking because it dulls reaction times and puts everyone at risk.
Fury increased as Jon’s piercing gray eyes narrowed and bore into Dan’s, registering the stoic mask slipping into place. He misread the source of pain reflected in Dan’s eyes, assuming the agony shown came from a well-earned headache, not having a clue what this day did to Dan.
If Nick detects the alcohol wafting off Dan, he will blow a gasket. Damn glad Boss is at the sergeant’s meeting. Not that I’m not about to go ballistic on his ass. I don’t give a damn if today is Dan’s birthday or not. No one on my team comes into work hungover and smelling like a damned distillery. He is going to learn not to break this rule again. With a hard edge to his voice, Jon ordered, “Follow me, Broderick. Now.”
Unsure what Jon planned, but realizing he wouldn’t like it, Dan followed his tactical lead out of the gym.
Ray exchanged glances with Loki, Lexa, and Bram before he asked, “Why do you suppose Jon is pissed off at Dan?”
They all shrugged as they tried and failed to come up with a reason. Each initially chalking it up to Jon’s and Dan’s strange dynamic.
Searching deeper, Lexa replayed Dan’s actions during workout and conjectured, “Dan goes at the heavy bag hard when things are bothering him, and he was hitting with gusto. Perhaps Jon wants a private conversation with him to make sure everything is okay.”
Bram lowered the weights on the leg press and checked if Jon and Dan were out of earshot. Not spotting them in the hall he said, “Dan did appear a bit off. We should’ve said happy birthday to him. Perhaps he thinks we forgot and don’t care about him, particularly after Loki’s prank on me and all the warm well wishes everyone gave me on my birthday as we worked out.”
Slowing the treadmill to a walk after his intense running portion, Loki said between breaths, “Nah, Dan wouldn’t think that. He knows we care. Besides, it will ruin the surprise later.”
“Are you certain? I tend to be with Bram on this. We probably should’ve wished him a happy birthday. Doing so won’t give away the plans for after shift,” Ray said as he finished up on the bike.
Lexa nodded and renewed her effort on the elliptical machine. If I hurt Dan’s feelings, I’ll more than make up for it tonight. I’ve got a special treat for him I can’t share with the others. A roguish smile came to her face as Lexa thought about her real birthday surprise for Dan.
TRF HQ – Training Field – Shoot House – 6:15 a.m.
Dan tailed Jon to the training supply room where Jon threw a thirty-pound backpack at him and growled, “Put this on.” After complying, he followed a silent and brooding Jon outside to the four-story, concrete, shell of a building.
Once inside the structure used to practice clearing skills and rappelling, Jon’s hooded eyes glowered at Dan. With a scowl and commanding tone, Jon bellowed, “I don’t care if you wanted to have fun with your buddies or if they bought you drink after drink to celebrate your birthday. You do not come to work hungover and stinking like a brewery.
“Hit the stairs and start running all the way up and back down until I tell you to stop. And, Broderick, I know how fast you can run. You damn well better not slack off. You are running full bore. Do I make myself clear?”
Celebrate my ass! That is the last thing I want to do. I miss my little sister so much today I almost wish I were dead! Dan’s thought’s halted, realizing Jon had no clue and assumed the logical reason for his condition after overhearing his response to Bram yesterday. Better this way … no one needs to be aware of my private hell. “Crystal, sir.”
Dan began running up the stairs. His pounding headache increased, and by the time he reached the fourth floor, his skull aspired to split open. He turned and ran down. Reaching the ground floor, Jon’s wrathful glare met him as he pivoted to repeat the torturous trek.
By the third trip, Dan’s system begged to hurl, but he stemmed the reflex and continued with his penance. Though he deserved what Jon meted out for breaking the rules, Dan remained stubborn and did not want to embarrass himself or give Jon the satisfaction of making him puke his guts out.
Jon allowed his anger free rein. Every time Dan hit the bottom flight he laid into him verbally about the protocols on not drinking in excess before shift. The green tinge and paleness of Dan’ face, along with the sheen of sweat and clenched jaw, told Jon that Dan felt like retching. He determined to make Dan run until he spewed, then Jon would make him run more. “You do not put my team at risk co
ming in hungover. Period!”
TRF HQ – Gym – 6:45 a.m.
Nick entered the gym smiling, though they were working an unscheduled shift because four of Camden’s men came down with flu-like symptoms. During their sergeant’s meeting, Colton offered, and Gambrill approved, Charlie Team to start early to cover the second half of shift so there would be no chance Dan would miss his party due to being on a call.
Glancing around, Nick noted two of his team missing. “Where are Jon and Dan?”
Bram stopped the treadmill and wiped his face. “They left about thirty-five minutes ago. Not sure where they went.”
As Frank Hudson headed to the locker room, he overheard both Nick and Bram. “My team is out on the gun range putting in some training with the new night vision scopes. They’re at the shoot house. Jon is sure making Dan pays for coming in hungover. Didn’t think that was Dan’s style, but I doubt he’ll ever do it again, leastwise if he’s not into pain.”
After Frank left, the team stared at one another. In all the time they had known Dan, he never once drank in excess before shift. The only time they ever witnessed him more than slightly buzzed was at Jim’s bachelor party when they were not on call. This didn’t fit Dan’s pattern. Each wondered what would cause him to get hammered.
Ray sighed. “He did say he was going out with Jim and someone named Jack. Don’t know this Jack guy, but I wouldn’t think Jim would allow Dan to booze it up if he was aware Dan had to work today.”
Lexa racked her brain and let slip out, “Jack might actually be Dan’s friend JD. Jacq is most likely short for Jacqueline.”
Recalling the leggy blonde who came by HQ last Valentine’s Day, Ray grinned and whistled. “You mean that gorgeous blonde woman who stopped by last year is Dan’s drinking buddy?”
“Yeah, but buddy isn’t what I would call her.” Lexa fought the green-eyed monster until she realized Dan wouldn’t be putting the moves on JD, especially if Jim, who was cognizant about their relationship, was with him.
Nick took in the information. If Dan came in hungover for whatever reason, Jon will have Dan’s head on a platter. That is one thing Jon is never lenient on. Undoubtedly stems from helping me crawl out of the bottle. Both of us have seen too many careers ruined by hitting the hard stuff.
Bound and determined never to allow that happen to any of their team, Nick realized Jon’s heart would be in the right place, but with their unique dynamic and tendency to butt heads, Jon might overreact and go overboard with Dan. Glancing at his team, he said, “Go shower and suit up. I’ll find out what is going on. Meet you in the briefing room in fifteen. We have a warrant call to plan.” Nick jogged to the training field.
TRF HQ – Training Field – Shoot House – 6:50 a.m.
Dan’s head throbbed, and his hamstrings were on fire. He stopped counting the number of trips quite a while ago. Sweat dripped off him in copious amounts. Jon was in rare form today, and although Dan understood the reason for punishment, Jon’s words were wholly unjustified. I don’t have a problem with alcohol. I’m not going to ruin my career. Yes, I got shitfaced last night … only one night a year and for a valid reason. You would too if your sister dying right in front of you is your twin, with only fate separating us in birth by two years.
Turning at the top of the fourth floor to start back down Dan’s breath came with a hitch as his left hamstring constricted tightly. He groaned softly and stopped to rub out the cramp.
The lack of Dan’s boots smacking the cement stairs registered with Jon and he yelled, “Move your ass, Broderick. I didn’t say you can stop.” The fact Dan had not ralphed in the past thirty minutes ticked off Jon. He decided to push Broderick until he did … and it wouldn’t be much longer if Dan’s appearance last time he set out on a trek upward were an indication.
When no sounds met with his prior command, Jon hollered, “Broderick, you better move now, or you won’t like the consequences.”
Grimacing against the pain, Dan started down at Jon’s second call. Slower at first but he sped up when Jon shouted, “Pick up the pace! You’re slacking.” By the time he reached the third floor an inferno of pain engulfed his thigh.
Dan heard Boss’ voice but couldn’t make out the words as he made it to the landing between the second and ground floors. Moving down the last half, he spotted Boss, and neither he nor Jon appeared happy as their discussion stopped. Fucking fantastic, Boss is here to ream my ass too.
Making it to the bottom, Dan pivoted, heading up again. His hamstring cramped severely, and he bit his lower lip to stop a groan from escaping. One step away from the midway landing, his left hamstring seized causing his foot to miss the tread, and he went crashing down. Dan rolled over and sat up in one fluid motion. His knee bent of its own will and his fingers flew to the back of his upper leg as he groaned and squeezed hard trying to release the constricted muscle.
When Dan fell, Nick and Jon flew up the stairs. Nick called out, “Dan are you alright?”
Jon noted the location of Broderick’s hands and cursed himself. “Dammit! Hamstring?”
Dan nodded and ground out, “Cramping bad.”
“Let us help!” Nick thrust Dan’s hands away to knead the muscle.
Pushing Dan’s knee down, Jon pulled the rookie’s lower leg, straightening it slowly before flexing Dan’s toes toward his body.
Dan leaned back on the heavy backpack and panted as extreme pain shot through the rear of his upper leg. His fists clenched forcefully, and he pounded on the cement floor, silently begging for the cramp to cease its painful hold. It seemed like an eternity before the muscle began to relax. As it loosened, Dan’s breathing slowed and he unclenched his hands.
Feeling like crap for causing Dan pain, Boss’ rebuke rolled in Jon’s head, and he realized he had gone overboard as he assessed Dan’s current condition, but part of him would not relent.
After a minute or so, Dan’s cramp released, much to his relief, and both Nick and Jon let go and moved away from him. Dan fastened his mask in place and prepared for a new onslaught of rebuke from his sergeant.
Nick calmly queried, “Why did you drink so much last night when you knew we would be working today?” He didn’t bother to ask how Dan was since they all experienced cramps before. They hurt like hell but once released they eased fairly quickly. He was more concerned why Dan behaved so out of character.
Startled by the soft tone, Dan momentarily considered revealing his reason, but he couldn’t handle pity today, or any day for that matter, so he said, “Birthday.” It was not a lie and would allow them to assume he binged in celebration. The truth needed to remain his alone. He did not share the agony of this day with anyone, not even Blaze. The only person who ever knew was Brody, and he was dead now … also his fault.
“I see. You are aware of the reason for the rule?” Nick scrutinized Dan, sensing there was something more to this.
“Yes, sir,” he answered not meeting either of his bosses’ eyes.
“Yet you choose to ignore it,” Nick stated.
Dan heard the statement rather than a question so remained quiet as he massaged his sore muscle trying to ease the remaining twitches.
Rubbing his face when Dan did not respond, Nick studied him thoroughly for a few minutes. Dan’s become closed off again. This doesn’t jibe. Something is not right. He decided not to push. “I won’t write you up since this this is your first time breaking that rule. Make sure it is your last. Don’t ever overindulge before a shift again, or I will file a formal reprimand. Are we clear?”
“Crystal, sir.” Dan waited until Jon and Boss stood before he began to rise.
Nick held out his hand, somewhat surprised and pleased after Dan accepted his offer to assist as he hopped up one-legged.
Putting light pressure on his left leg, Dan hoped the aggravated hamstring wouldn’t seize again.
“How is it? Pulled?” Jon inquired in an unyielding tone.
“No, sir. I’m okay.” Dan kept his eyes lowered not wan
ting them to glimpse any emotion which might betray his mental state. He could no longer use fine with them, so he stated okay, which matched his physical state … or would after a shower, a mug of coffee, and a dose of ibuprofen for his headache.
Jon peered at Dan, not liking what he saw. Dan still did not meet their eyes, and his replies came out flat and non-emotional. “We’re serving a warrant today. I need to know, Dan. Are you good to go? Is your head in the game?”
At the tone, Dan realized he must meet Jon head-on, or he would be benched for sure. He required the distraction of work to make it through this day, so he raised his head and gazed directly at his tactical leader. “Yes, sir. I will not let the team down.”
“I’ll be keeping my eye on you. If at any point you appear unfit for duty, I’ll pull your ass so fast it will make your head spin,” Jon declared.
“Understood, sir.”
Nick said softer, “Dan, go shower now.”
“Copy, sir.” Glad to be free from the penetrating scrutiny of Boss, Dan jogged down the stairs and out of the building. The man possessed the uncanny ability to discern things people wanted to keep private.
When Dan was gone, Nick turned to Jon. He sighed as he noted Jon’s rigidness. “Something isn’t right. He is back to his military bearing. Tread lightly with him, Jonny.”
Jon crossed his arms over his chest. “I see it too, Nick, but I can’t go light on him today. He must learn what he did is unacceptable. I will not put the team at risk because someone wants to get drunk celebrating a birthday. I don’t care which member of our team it is. That is not acceptable. I’m sorry about the hamstring cramp, but it might teach him a lesson.”
Squaring off against Jon who had five inches on his five-foot-nine height, and a more muscular build, yet both men equal in formidability when the situation called for it, Nick gave Jon a pointed glare. “Do not. I repeat, do not backslide, Jon. Dan is a complicated man with a terrible past … much of which I suspect we will never be privy to.