The Gambit

by Allen Longstreet

  “Can I ask a favor of you, Owen?”

  “Yes, anything.”

  “Regardless of what happens, please, keep my daughter safe. She is the most important person in my life, and I couldn’t imagine losing her. The last thing I would want is to know she died chasing some story, just as her father did. I can’t bear to go through that twice.”

  The reality of what she said hit me. Her father died covering a story, and her mother was afraid of Rachel having the same fate.

  “I would give my own life for her.”

  - 14 -

  The sound of the waves lapping against the shore was all I heard. It surrounded me, enveloped me. A constant, soft breeze blew over my body, and it was magical. I smiled from the sensation, and the crashing of the waves was so resonant, I began to lose touch with what was real. Was I even here? Had I escaped reality?

  Yes. Even if it was only for a moment, I had escaped. The sound of the ocean was my guardian, saving me from my thoughts. The thoughts I fought so hard to avoid. My plan had failed. He was no longer safe. Tomorrow was uncertain, and that uncertainty ate away at me.

  Stop. Breathe. Listen to the ocean…

  I let out a long, exaggerated exhale. I let my eyes roam across the night sky. The larger stars were visible, but there weren’t many out altogether. It was a familiar sky. As a child, in New York, I couldn’t see any. In Miami, there were only a few. When I moved to North Carolina to go to school at Chapel Hill, I was amazed at how many more stars there were. This was nothing compared to that. The ocean made up for it, though. There was no way I could wear shorts and a tank top back home at this time of year.

  Why? The question kept resurfacing in my mind. Why hadn’t my plan worked? Why did the air marshal have to recognize Owen? The events of the day continued to replay like a film reel behind my eyelids every time they closed. What if I would have done this differently? What if Owen had been in another seat? Would he have made it then?

  The endless spiral of possibilities swam around in my head. It worried me because I was all out of ideas. I couldn’t come up with one thing that might be able to help Owen. Time was against us, and our running could only go on for so long. What would happen when our time ran out?

  The thought made me queasy.

  Stop. Breathe in, breathe out. Listen to the ocean.

  I focused on the sound. The natural rhythm of the crashing was beautiful, and it was the one thing I missed about Florida the most. My eyes were closed, and I felt the presence of someone beside me. I turned to my right and saw Owen.

  “Why hello there,” he said. His pearly white teeth stuck out in the night so visibly. He grabbed my hand and interlaced my fingers with his. Warmth flushed from my head to my toes. Every moment I spent with Owen, I felt infinite. It was almost like time had stopped.

  “Hi, handsome.”

  We chuckled, and I inched closer to him. His scent was intoxicating. It smelled like faint cologne, but I knew he had none. It was natural, and with every inhale, I knew he was with me and not on some plane. It wasn’t that simple, though. That desire I had, to keep him here, came with repercussions. It came with the knowledge that I had no idea how long I would have him by my side.

  Time was against us, and I cherished every moment.

  “Why are you out here all alone?”

  “Needed to clear my thoughts,” I said.

  “Did it work?” he asked, and pulled our clutched hands to his stomach.

  “No,” I chuckled. “I’m much better now, though.”

  “Oh really?” he teased.

  “Yes, really.” I squeezed his fingers tighter. I rolled on my side and threw my leg over his. His face was inches away from mine, and as I stared into his blue eyes, I knew what we had was real. We hadn’t known each other for very long, but the journey had brought us closer together. If someone would have told me I would have fallen for the cocky politician sitting across the coffee shop, I would have told them to fuck off. When I approached him, it was only for the story. Now, it was much more than that. I loved him, and not only did I want to tell him, I wanted to show him.

  I threw my other leg over and straddled his waist. I grabbed my hair tie and slid it off. My hair fell around my head, and the ends dangled down, just barely touching him. My palms were planted firmly in the sand beside his shoulders. It took all of my strength just not to pounce on him. I missed his touch, his kiss.

  “I could get used to this,” he said with a smug smile.

  “You’re not the only one…”

  I slid down farther, teasing him. He began to open his mouth to speak, and I pressed my finger to his lips.

  “Remember what you told me today when you called from the plane?”

  He nodded and delicately kissed my finger.

  “I love you, too.” The words felt like a drug as I said them. It was the purest love I had ever felt. I leaned down and met his lips. They were so smooth. Our gentle kisses became passionate and fierce, and our tongues danced. I sucked on his lower lip, feeling it fill with pressure. His cock began to grow in his shorts, and I pressed down on it. I kissed my way down his chin and neck. I sucked and kissed all the way to the ridge of his collarbone. I reached down to the edge of his shirt and helped him pull it off. He ran his fingers through my hair and pulled me in for another long, passionate kiss. When we released, I kissed his pecks and down the middle of his sternum. His body was so warm—I could feel the heat emanating off of him.

  He began to unbutton his pants, and I slid down my panties. We both wanted this so badly. The last I looked, the beach was deserted. I didn’t even bother to check. It didn’t matter at this point. What did we have to lose? It was so liberating, not having to think about hiding just for this instant. As long as we were together, I couldn’t have cared less. Nothing else mattered. He bit my lower lip and caressed my breasts. His touch made me tremble. I slid down on top of him, and I thought I was going to melt into a puddle. I oozed affection for him. Every kiss, every thrust, I put all of my love into it. I wanted to give him a night he would never forget. Regardless of the future, we had this night together. It was ours. He cupped my ass with his hands, and with every thrust I gyrated harder.

  I lost track of time. We were covered in sweat, and my hair was dripping wet. We had switched positions, and our necks were probably covered in hickeys. He hadn’t came—he was trying to hold it back for me. My back was covered in sand. We were in missionary, and looking at his toned body above me was enough to get me off. The moon wasn’t out, and all we were to each other were the dim outlines of bodies.

  “I love you,” I panted.

  “I love you too,” he grunted and thrust deeper. I was so close. I had never had a guy make me orgasm, but I knew we were both about to go over the edge. He leaned down, and we locked lips. We breathed through our noses as we sucked and held each other locked in the kiss. His body was crouched up, and I wrapped my legs around his ass to pull him closer. I arched my back upwards as my body began to tremble. My mouth opened from the pleasure, and I began to moan. His breath shuddered, and he gave one final thrust. My body and mind exploded with ecstasy. He panted and collapsed on top of me, kissing my face and breasts. I ran my fingers through the back of his sweaty hair, and gently kissed his lips, his nose, and his forehead. I pulled his head to my breasts and let him rest there.

  “That was amazing,” he said for the second time.

  “I know,” I replied, staring up at the sky with his arm wrapped around me. My head was resting in the nook between his chest and shoulder.

  “I have to be honest…” He began. “That was different than all the times in the past.”

  “Different as in, bad?” I teased. I knew that wasn’t the case.

  “No, not at all. It was the best.”

  “Did you feel it?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “It was the love,” I said. “I felt it too.”

  I delicately traced a figure-eight on the skin of his stomach with my i
ndex finger. The soft ocean breeze cooled off our hot skin. Owen had put his jeans back on but was still shirtless. I had redressed already. I slid my head closer to his chest, and he pulled me tight. I could hear the steady beating of his heart. My mind was finally at ease. I wasn’t worried about what tomorrow would bring. Owen was here, with me—in the flesh. That was all I needed.

  “Maybe we can do this again someday,” he said.

  “What? The sex?”

  “Well, that too,” he laughed. “I meant this, lying on the beach together.”

  Images flashed through my head. Owen and I running on some white-sand beach, looking out on turquoise waters. I could practically feel the sun on my skin. It made me smile.

  “That would be nice,” I admitted.

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Well, I’ve been to the Caribbean and Hawaii. I’ve always wanted to go to France.”

  “Where, to Paris?”

  “Maybe just to visit,” I said. “I was thinking more like the French Riviera. Nice, Cannes, maybe spend a night playing blackjack at a casino in Monaco. I can see it now, waking up and having coffee at an outdoor café, basking in the sun on the beach, and finishing the day off with some French Cuisine and a glass of wine.”

  He was grinning ear to ear and let out a laugh.

  “I like your taste. You know, it’s kind of ironic you said France.”

  “Why?”

  He turned to me before answering.

  “Because before I was born, my mom and dad took trips to France. She was obsessed with antique French furniture and design. I remember her teaching me how to count to ten in French as a child, and she would show me so many pictures. Ever since then I have wanted to visit. I miss her a lot. I wish I could just hear her voice again.”

  “I know the feeling…” I murmured. Hearing him say that about his mother only made me realize further that we have both been through the same thing, just with a different parent.

  “I know you do,” he consoled.

  Could he have been any more perfect? He understood my pain. That was something not many people could do. He was handsome, intelligent, and caring. He used every bit of his political influence to try to change this country for the better. He was just in the wrong place at the right time. I wouldn’t even have been here if it weren’t for what happened to him. I would still be in Raleigh, putting my articles on a desk to be approved…and they probably would have been the same garbage we have seen on the news. He strengthened his grasp around my back and lovingly rubbed it. If this were a dream, I would have been perfectly content with never waking up. I wanted to stay in this moment forever. I couldn’t let reality settle in, not just yet. I had to hold it off any way I could.

  “I can see us now, looking out at the sea from a rooftop terrace, without a worry in the world. Just you and me, and whatever comes next.”

  “That sounds like the closest thing to heaven I’ll ever find.”

  I laughed and kissed the underside of his neck. “It does, doesn’t it?”

  “I’ll make you my girlfriend, and then take you on a real date. This time, without the FBI chasing us.” His soft-spoken, yet masculine tone carrying those words made my stomach flutter. Everything about him left me so enamored.

  “A real date?” I egged him on.

  “Yes,” he answered confidently. “I will bring you flowers, we can have a candlelit dinner, and we can make love until the sun comes up.”

  My heart swelled in happiness. He had hit a soft-spot.

  “You know, I’ve never had a guy give me flowers.”

  I could barely see his forehead scrunch up in the darkness.

  “What? You’re kidding me.”

  “Not at all. I’m dead serious. The funny thing is my last name means flowers in Spanish.”

  “Really? So Flores means flowers.”

  “Yes, and I still never got any.”

  “As beautiful as you are, that’s such a shame…” He muttered.

  “I know, I dated assholes,” I said flatly.

  “Don’t worry, Rachel. One day.”

  “One day?”

  “One day you’ll get flowers.”

  “They better be from you,” I said, pulling him in for a kiss.

  “Of course.”

  “Propaganda is to a democracy what the bludgeon is to a totalitarian state.”

  - 15 -

  The blaring fire alarm echoed throughout my apartment. I jolted out of bed, disoriented from the earsplitting drone of the alarm. My clock read 2:03 a.m.—what the hell was happening? I hopped around my room on one foot as I struggled to slip on my shoes. I threw on a jacket and headed for the door.

  I heard voices from the hallway. I sniffed deeply as I neared the door. I didn’t smell smoke…had someone pulled the alarm? I opened the door to see two-dozen of my neighbors being herded through the hall towards the stairwell by men in full military gear. They all had automatic weapons strapped to their backs. My pulse quickened from the sight. One of the soldiers saw me standing still and pushed me forward with the rest of them.

  “What the hell is going on?” I shouted in reaction to his shove.

  “Everything is fine. Stay calm and exit the building.”

  He must have been a couple years younger than me, and his unwavering tone was a telltale sign of a mind that had been molded by his superiors. Had there been another riot? Who would have given orders to evacuate a building this late at night? I tried to resist but was met with another shove against my back. We piled into the stairwell and began descending.

  I lived on the top floor. We had nine more stories to go down.

  “Keep it moving,” the soldiers behind us said. Their voices echoed.

  I had to look down in order not to step on the heels of the person in front of me. We were packed like cattle. Suddenly, the line in front of me slowed. I leaned over the railing to see the circular opening that allowed a visual of the ground floor. The rest of the floors were being evacuated also. The many voices talking at the same time was dizzying. As the floors beneath us began to exit on the ground floor, the line moved forward again.

  I was pissed. I had to go to work tomorrow. With everything that happened on Black Monday, the EPA was one of the only sectors of the workforce that were actually needed. The whole country was being laid off en masse. It was tragic, but I had to try and keep mine. We were still trying to figure out what was used to create the dirty bombs.

  “Daaad,” a child groaned from below. The voices of the children stuck out more than the adults.

  We reached the ground floor, and through the windows I saw the hundreds of people that had evacuated the building.

  “All right everyone, keep it moving! Outside, now!” another soldier called out. I shuffled across the marble floor and zipped my jacket tighter as we exited the building. The January air was frigid, and my breath trailed from my mouth. I turned around three-hundred and sixty degrees to take in the chaos that was unfolding around me.

  There were massive flatbed trucks with Army emblems on the sides of their camouflaged bodies. Half of them were already loaded up with people. My eyes bulged from what I saw. This was like something out of a war movie.

  I began hearing shouts from the others.

  “No! You can’t take us like this!” a man yelled. I turned around, trying to find his location. There was a soldier in front of him pointing to the flatbed truck.

  “Sir, I don’t want to have to tell you again. Get on the truck!”

  I shuffled backward, trying to watch the encounter. I bumped into a mother and her two boys.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled to them. I glanced back, and the man had an enraged look in his eyes.

  “I’m not going anywhere!” he screamed.

  The soldier tried to pull him forward, but the man slipped out of his grasp.

  “Get the hell on the truck! I’m not going to ask you again!”

  “What are you gonna do about it?” the man yelled and
reached for the soldier’s gun. The soldier threw him on the ground with brutal force. As he slammed against the ground I heard the wind get knocked out of him. The soldier swung his weapon off of his shoulder and my heart raced as I watched in horror.

  “No!” I screamed. The gunfire rang throughout the air. Behind the painful ringing in my ears I heard the high-pitched cries of the children. The man who had resisted clutched his chest as blood began to seep through his clothes and drip from his mouth. He coughed and looked around at the crowd with teary eyes. Anyone who wanted to resist now knew what would happen to them. I felt like I was going to throw up, but I held it back. I was deaf. In the utter chaos around me, everything was muffled. I felt numb.

  An American soldier just killed a citizen.

  A soldier in the bed of the truck tugged at my arm. I turned to him disoriented, and my survival instincts told me to yank my arm out of his grasp and run away. I would just take my chances of them shooting me as I attempted to escape…but I didn’t. I didn’t want to end up like the man who was lying on the asphalt, just a few feet in front of me—dead.

  He pulled me into the truck bed, where I was crowded in with dozens of other people. We all sat elbow to elbow, knee to knee. We were packed in tight. There were two soldiers sitting in the middle, holding their weapons. Clearly we outnumbered them, but no one dared to resist. They made an example of that man, and it worked. We were in fear, and they had control. I was tempted just to pull out my EPA ID with the government seal. Would they realize we worked for the same people? Then, I realized that half of my building worked for the government. What the fuck was going on here?

  I stared into the eyes of one of the soldiers, and the gaze that he returned was cold. It was as if he was a robot. I tried to search for the smallest bit of remorse, or guilt…but I couldn’t sense any. He broke our stare and looked around at the other people.

  My hearing faded back in, and the only thing I could hear was the shrill, whining cries of the woman’s two sons who sat across from me. The mom held them close, one arm wrapped around each to comfort them, but it wasn’t working. She removed her jacket and used it as a makeshift blanket, but it was only big enough to fully cover one of them. I took off mine and tossed it to her.