Edge of Tomorrow

by Wolf Wootan

  “To Sara,” she said, then took a long swig. It felt like fire going down, spreading through her stomach, heading for her bloodstream.

  “God, I needed that!” sighed Syd. “I hope I did OK on Sara’s arm. Shirley should have been there.”

  “The doctor said no one could have done better. You saved Sara’s life. Besides, your translations of those pilots’ conversations were critical to our survival. Without you, I would have shot them out of the sky as soon as they started down, and our cover would have been blown.”

  Syd finished her drink too quickly. Hatch added two ice cubes and refilled it.

  “So you think if you get me drunk, you can have your way with me, eh, milord?” giggled Syd.

  “That hadn’t entered my mind, but now that you bring it up, it has a certain appeal,” he smiled. Hatch sipped his drink, watching her as she munched on a piece of marinated chicken.

  “Can we move this party to my room? I really need to get out of this bloody suit and take a shower,” Syd finally said.

  Hatch loaded everything on a tray and followed Syd to her room. He sat the tray on the coffee table and she sat on her bed, pulling off boots and socks. She got up and went to the table, picked up her drink and headed for the bathroom, then put the drink on the counter after taking another sip. She returned to the door of the bathroom and leaned against the frame.

  “I’m going to leave the door open so we can talk. You may get lucky and see me naked. If I pass out in the shower, come and get me,” she giggled.

  She unzipped her jumpsuit and stepped out of it. She turned and walked back into the bathroom in her underwear. Hatch heard the shower water start. A hand came into view holding a bra. Syd let it float to the floor.

  “What do we have here, Syd? An invisible striptease?” laughed Hatch.

  Next came her panties.

  “Just call me Shadow-Syd. I hope I don’t blow a circuit board.”

  He heard the shower door open and close. He took his drink and stood just outside the open bathroom door.

  “I could come and wash your back,” he said over the sound of the water. Steam began to flow out of the bathroom.

  “Too risky. Hey, Hatch, I forgot to get my nightgown. It’s in my duffel,” she answered.

  He went to her duffel bag and rummaged around and found a nightgown, a light-blue linen thing with small pink roses on it. He could see his hand through it. He ambled back to the steaming door.

  “I found it. Where do you want it?”

  “Come in and hang it on a hook for me—please.”

  He went in and hung it on a hook on the opposite side of the entry away from the shower, so she would have to pass by the open door to get at it. He glanced at the steamy shower, which had a clear glass door, but could see only a steamy shape, just like shower scenes on TV ads.

  Damn! I really wanted to see her body! She knew there was too much steam! She’s toying with me!

  “It doesn’t look like we’re going to get our second date in Istanbul, does it?” she said.

  “We could lay over tomorrow.”

  “No, Sara wants to go home. We should respect her wishes.”

  “I guess you’re right. I know you’re right.”

  The water stopped and she opened the shower door a few inches and stuck out her hand.

  “Give me a towel, please; and go back to the other room so I can get dressed.”

  “I could dry your back.”

  “Go!”

  Hatch left the bathroom and stood where he could watch her when she crossed to get her gown. She stuck her hand around the corner.

  “Aren’t you the sneaky one!” she giggled, closing the door.

  Before Hatch could recover, the door opened and she entered the room in her flimsy nightgown. Her breasts stood out like head lights on a Stutz Bear Cat, her nipples and areolas clearly visible.

  “You like?” she said.

  “I like! Syd, that gown is nearly transparent!”

  “Nearly is the operative word,” she said, taking her glass to the table for a refill.

  Hatch went over and took the glass from her.

  “Let me get that for you, Syd. Sit.”

  She sat down on the couch and crossed her legs. The nightgown barely covered her hips: her legs were exposed all the way up. Hatch fixed her drink and put it on the table in front of her, then took a slug of his own.

  She is too gorgeous for words! What is she up to? She must be playing games with me—testing me somehow? What am I supposed to do?

  “Are you playing games with me, Syd?” he asked finally.

  “Games? Me?” she said, batting her eyelashes and arching her back to accentuate her breasts. Then she slumped forward and put her head in her hands for a moment.

  She raised her head, looked at Hatch and said, “I don’t know, Hatch! Last night I thought I knew where we were headed: some romantic dates, get to know each other. Now, things are different!”

  “Different? How?” he asked, sitting next to her, looking at her long, long naked legs.

  “Number one, the mission. You’re suffering from Post Mission Distress Disorder. All men get it after tough, touch-and-go action. All that adrenalin rush is like a shot of Viagra! I’ve seen it many times. All the guys head for their wives, girl friends—or hookers. I can see it in your eyes, your body actions. You want to get laid, Hatch!” she said seriously.

  “Syd, how does that make things different?” he laughed. “I wanted you last night, too, after you put my hand on your breast.”

  “I know! But I thought we had a plan to escape the one-night-stand and ‘see ya later’ thing.”

  “We did. We do. So what’s the problem?”

  “Me! I suffer from the same disorder, just like you do. It’s not only a man thing. I want sex as badly as you do right now,” she groaned. “But I don’t want our first time to be because of a freaking mission!”

  Hatch could see what was bothering her. He was happy about one thing: she did want to have sex with him! But she wanted it after some romancing, after a candle-lit dinner, dancing, and after she was sure he would not dump her after bedding her. It reminded him of Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady singing ‘Why can’t a woman be more like a man?’ even though the context was a little different.

  “Syd, I agree with you, but maybe a little gentle, tender petting would calm us both down, and we’ll stay on the plan,” he offered.

  “Or it could turn us into flaming sex infernos!”

  She got up and went to the bed and lay down on her back, her twin mounds pointing at the ceiling like Prussian helmets.

  “Whatever you decide to do is fine with me. I can’t make any more decisions tonight! Here I am! Do whatever you want,” she whispered, her eyes closed.

  Hatch could not believe the position she had put him in. He was not sure what kind of response she really wanted. He found himself in a lose-lose situation.

  If she had told me to leave, that she didn’t want sex tonight, that I could live with. But she said she wanted sex—but that she didn’t want it because of the mission! So, whatever I do, it will be wrong! If I don’t touch her, and just leave, she could get pissed because I didn’t! If I do, she could get pissed because I did! Shit!

  “Syd, we’re in a lose-lose situation here,” he said. “Can you give me any clarification on what you want me to do?”

  She did not answer him. He sat down on the bed next to her, taking in her beauty, and the sweep of her body under the thin, semi-transparent gown. He took her hand in his: it was limp. She was asleep!

  Well, that’s one way out of this! I can’t take advantage of a passed-out woman.

  He leaned and kissed her gently on the lips, then left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  • • •

  Syd woke up at 7:31 A.M. with a pounding headache, brought on equally by the bump on her head and the chug-a-lugging of vodka the night before. She got up and stumbled to her duffel, rummaging around until she f
ound her travel case. She found a bottle of Tylenol, took two out of it, and went to the bathroom and washed them down with water. She was starting to get flashes of what happened the night before.

  Oh, shit! What did I do? I acted like an ass, that’s what I did! What must Hatch think of me now? Stripping down to my underwear in front of him! Flopping on the bed and saying, “Have your way with me!” My God! I wonder what happened after that. I don’t remember anything after that! Oh, Hatch, what did I do? I have to apologize for my terrible behavior! I put him in an impossible situation!

  She brushed her teeth, trying to erase the foul taste in her mouth, and threw on some clothes and made her way to the infirmary to see Sara. Sara was eating breakfast off a hospital table which had been swung over the bed and placed at the level of her breasts.

  “How goes it, Doc? Did I thank you enough yesterday for saving my life?” she bubbled.

  “You seem better today! No thanks required. That was my job. I’m just glad I did it right.”

  “Want some breakfast? They gave me way too much. Sit there on the bed,” said Sara.

  Syd sat down on the edge of the bed and took a triangle of buttered toast and nibbled on it.

  “Hatch was by. He said we’re going home this morning after the doctor changes my bandage. You’ll have to be my nurse on the flight home. Think you can put up with me? I’m a terrible patient,” laughed Sara. “I can’t wait to get home! What’s wrong, Syd? You don’t look like yourself.”

  “One, I’m hung-over. Hatch and I took a bottle of Stoli to my room last night and I guzzled it like a Russian.”

  “Good girl! You got him to your room, eh?”

  “Oh, yes! And I really fucked up!” groaned Syd.

  “I hope that means you were on top!” laughed Sara.

  “No! Sara, you’re hopeless! But that’s true. I don’t know if I was on top, on the bottom, or none of the above!”

  She proceeded to tell Sara the entire sordid story—without revealing their previous plan—of how she had teased Hatch worse than a Turkish belly dancer, and then put him in a no-win situation.

  “Now … I don’t remember what happened after that!” she finished.

  “Did you check and see if your plumbing had been used?” asked Sara.

  “Kind of. Can’t tell. The whole situation is terrible! If we really did it, how can I tell him I don’t even remember? What am I going to do, Sara?”

  “Don’t bring it up unless he does, then fake it,” Sara answered, still amused about the situation.

  “He probably thinks I’m some slut after his money,” said Syd.

  “Well, he’s seen plenty of those. He has enough money to make a lesbian go straight. But I’m sure he doesn’t think of you like that. I’m just as sure that he wouldn’t have taken advantage of you if you were out of it. What I don’t understand is, if you wanted sex, and he wanted sex, why your legs didn’t fly open like a nutcracker and show him the way to the promised land!” giggled Sara. “My legs are spring-loaded for situations like that!”

  “It’s complicated, Sara. My life is not as simple as you like to pretend yours is. And—maybe I did,” said Syd with a wan smile.

  “I doubt it. You would have remembered something that good. Just put it behind you and do better next time. Knowing Hatch, there will be a next time. I think you’ve gotten under his skin. I’ve seen how he sneaks looks at you.”

  “I don’t know how to face him!”

  “Oh, come on, Syd! It’s not the end of the fuckin’ world! Just get it right next time!” growled Sara.

  “Yes, Mother! I’ll go find him and face him, see what happens. Thanks, Sara, you helped a lot. See you later.”

  • • •

  Syd went in search of Hatch. Marli said she had seen him earlier and that he had said he was going to his room to make some calls. Syd went to his room and knocked on the door.

  “Come in, it’s open,” she heard Hatch say through the door.

  She hesitated, then opened it, entered cautiously, and closed the door behind her. Hatch was on the sofa with his Blue Phone to his ear. He motioned for her to come sit next to him, patting the sofa, as he continued speaking into the phone. She sat on his left, their legs touching. He put his left hand on her knee while he talked to the pilot of the GS-V about their travel time later that morning. For an instant, Syd wished she had worn a skirt instead of jeans, so there would be no material between his hand and her skin.

  Get a grip, Syd! I’m going to have to decide what I really want, or I’ll go crazy over crap like this!

  CNN was on the TV, but the sound was turned down. A picture of the rubble they had created was on the screen. A box in the upper left corner had a talking head, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Hatch hung up and turned toward her, his hand still on her knee, and smiled.

  “How’s your head?” he asked.

  “Like you would expect,” she groaned, putting her hand on his.

  “I meant the bump,” he laughed.

  “No, you didn’t! Hatch, I want to apologize …”

  “To quote a friend of mine, ‘Don’t even go there!’”

  “But my behavior was …”

  “… pretty sexy! You’re quite a temptress—and adorable,” he finished for her.

  She went silent and rubbed the back of his hand, trying to formulate her next words.

  Before she could, he said, “You’re wondering what happened after you fell asleep, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. How bad was I?” she replied, looking into his eyes.

  “You mean how bad was I” he laughed. “I admit you were tempting lying there on that bed in that nearly invisible gown. I, of course, would not have touched you—I hope you know that much about me—but I was tempted to lift your gown and take an unobstructed peek, but I didn’t. I like my partners to participate in the action, so I kissed you goodnight and left. Feel better?”

  “Much! Thank you! I knew that was the answer. Hatch, believe me, I usually don’t get that drunk …”

  “You had good reason. It was a tough day. You don’t have to worry about me taking advantage of you. If we ever get to the point where we have sex, I would want your full participation,” he leered.

  “Hatch, I still want to …”

  He took his hand off her knee and put it around her shoulders and pulled her to him, kissing her.

  “I guess this is the only way to shut you up. Now, participate!”

  His hand went to her breast as he continued his kiss.

  She participated.

  • • •

  Several minutes later, Hatch said, “Now, we have to fetch Sara and head for home. I’ve arranged for Shirley to go with us to look after Sara. I hope you don’t mind, but she was rotating in two months anyway, and with Shadow-3 busted, she might as well go back early and see some of Florida.”

  “That’s fine with me. What are you going to do about Shadow-3?” asked Syd.

  “Toy Master is sending the C-130 here to pick it up. He’s going to redo it completely with all the latest electronics and weapons. The team here will leave with it. Meanwhile, we’ll have to rely on Shadow-4 in Rome to cover this part of the world.”

  “Well, thank you for making me feel better, and for forgiving me. I wasn’t looking forward to facing you! Now, the ride home will be better than I thought it would be,” Syd said, kissing the tip of his nose.

  “Syd, all we have to do is be honest with each other at all times, and the rest will take care of itself,” he said, reaching for the TV remote and turning up the sound. “This will make you feel even better, I hope. I’ve been watching the different news channels, and things are working out better than I had hoped. Iran is reporting the incident as a ground attack by an unknown force. As expected, all major governments have denied any involvement. Iran—whose borders are always fairly secure—has sealed off everything in hopes of finding the attack group, and prohibiting them from escaping. The interesting thing is that Iran is t
aking a ‘No Comment’ stance. This is politically astute on their part. If no attack group is found, some governments might think that Iran actually wiped out the terrorists themselves, because the harboring of the terrorists was an embarrassment to them at the negotiating table. They wouldn’t be able to admit it, of course: that would be a great loss of face with other terrorist groups and the nations who harbor them.”

  “The main thing is … the Wrath of Allah is no more. I can get back to a normal life. I’m certainly pleased that no one suspects who really did it! It was touch and go there for a while!” exhaled Syd.

  “Well, let’s go get Sara and Shirley and split,” he said.

  “I’m ready!”

  Chapter 20

  Klaus Haus, Marco, Florida

  Tuesday, August 7, 2001

  12:06 P.M.

  After returning from Istanbul, Syd moved her things back to her condo. Sara was not happy with her, but Syd felt she had to get her life back to normal. She promised Sara that she would visit her everyday while she recuperated from her wound. Hatch had to go to Langley for a few days to meet with his CEOs, and although Syd missed him, she rationalized that it would help her get back to her previous routine. She had her hair cut short because of the heat. Sara liked the new style and said she looked a lot like Audrey Hepburn.

  Shirley McNally was still staying at Klaus Haus looking after Sara’s every need. Hatch had asked her to stay until Shadow-5 was ready to fly to Arizona for extensive operational and weapons testing. She had been able to fit in a little sight-seeing—at Sara’s insistence—including Disney World. She was happy to be out of Turkey for awhile.

  Although Sara was getting her strength back, she was relegated to a wheelchair for outings outside her room. She, Syd, and Shirley were pool-side having a lunch that had been served by Eddie, Sara in her wheelchair, Syd and Shirley in deck chairs. Sara’s left arm was still in a sling, but she had no trouble eating her shrimp salad with her right hand.

  “Glad you came to lunch, Z.,” said Sara. “Shirley and Mrs. C. are driving me crazy with their damned hovering. At least you got me a gin and tonic! They’ve been feeding me orange juice, for God’s sake!”