Adrian's Eagles: Book Four (Life After War)

by White, Angela

  “Okay. Then you should be able to get out of this one on your own, right?”

  Adjusting his Colts, Marc moved toward the flap, and instinctively ducked the bottle meant to hit him in the head.

  Slap!

  The bottle hit the floor and Marc stepped over it. “I’ll be done with my next shift around noon. You will be here waiting for me. If not, I’ll go to Adrian first and then to your mom.”

  “I hate you!”

  Marc stiffened, blinking back bright pain, and forced himself to shrug. “We have to start somewhere.”

  Adrian saw Marc step from his tent with a wounded face and gave the man a nod of recognition for the battle that had begun. Adrian had no problem letting Charlie’s father try to handle it. Maybe they would find some common ground along the way. Much like he would have to with his own abandoned… Adrian stopped the thought. He hadn’t abandoned Conner, he was very late.

  Adrian’s gaze went over the parking area, where Sam and a small crew were preparing a double semi for the new garden. She was another one who needed to take advantage of the circumstances. Neil’s team was trying to match-make and Adrian wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Becky was currently skipping her new nursing duty with the doctor to perch in the front seat of Tonya’s muddy convertible, out of sight. Neil wasn’t in the area yet, but the redheaded teenager knew he would be. She was waiting for him to show, Adrian thought, though her youth would likely send her searching for him if he took too long. Becky had become very adept at tracking Neil.

  It was all likely to become an ugly mess, especially since Neil’s right-hand also seemed to have a thing for the Storm Tracker. And Jeremy already had a fling running with Cynthia. Adrian headed for the coffee line, shaking his head. It was life and he was grateful for each of them.

  He moved under the steel canopy of the Mess with a welcoming smile and people responded right away. Moods picked up, heavy worries lightened a little and he was glad to be able to do it. That was a part of his gifts that required no real work anymore. Happiness had its own attractions. Like with the college kids and the Nuns. They were all at a double table, surrounded by Peggy, Hilda, and the camp’s other females. Talking and eating as if they’d been friends for years, it was another sign he was heading them all in the right direction, picking up those who were worthy.

  And that was another problem he was trying to solve. Who was worthy? It came as no surprise that he resented having to make those hard choices just as much as he liked it. He planned to have Angela start meeting with the new arrivals soon, but that too, was dangerous to rely on. She couldn’t always tell when there was a problem, like with Rick. Adrian had asked her and been left frowning at her explanation of dark spots. They still didn’t know if the man was a threat.

  The Slavers had been following Angie and Marc or Safe Haven’s radio calls, maybe both, but they’d shaken their tail for a moment and gone quiet. Safe Haven hadn’t put out a radio call in days. If there was a transmission, an attempt at contact, they would catch it and that, along with the extra guards, was the best he could do. If not for the mental map pick-ups, even the radio silence might have been impossible because of his need to gather survivors. The thought of passing them by was intolerable and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would keep things quiet. And that made the Eagle lessons even more important.

  Speaking of lessons, he thought, stepping from the Mess. A group of females were reading the tryout notice Kyle had put up. Adrian turned away before they noticed him and rushed over with a million questions. The try-outs were set for dawn, but he had few hopes of those women showing up. Unlike Peggy and Hilda’s troupe of helpful females, these six were a clique and stuck to themselves. They weren’t ready, but that would change. Angela would be the first, and second... Samantha.

  Adrian turned back to see Jeremy lean too close to the blonde as he spoke. Sam laughed in response, leaning toward him as well, and Adrian grinned at the slyness on Becky’s face as she saw the flirting. That fiery teenager might fall into his army right after Samantha.

  3

  “Can I go now? Somebody will get suspicious.”

  “That’s your problem.”

  “Yours, too, if my mom finds out you’ve kept me here all morning.” The frustrated boy hesitated, pushed harder. “Or Kenn.”

  Marc’s eyes popped opened. “You want that piece of shit instead of me? I’ll get him for you.”

  Bluff called, Charlie fell back on the bedroll. “What do you want?”

  “You’re smart. Figure it out.” Marc closed his eyes again. He’d been back from his short shift and dozing for the better part of an hour now, skipping lunch Mess while he waited for this angry child to understand that the path he was walking led to nowhere.

  “I’m gonna get fed up and blow it open, I hope you know that.”

  “And I hope you get it before things go that far. Why don’t you try again?”

  “Uhh! I’ve been trying! You won’t tell me enough.”

  “Deep down, you know. Push aside all that anger and concentrate!”

  Marc’s sharp command had Charlie reluctantly doing as he said, but the mental door loomed like a wall, and the frustration rose up again.

  “Stop fighting it,” Marc coaxed. “You don’t want to feel our emotions and it’s holding you back.”

  “It’s private.”

  “It’s your story, too, son. Now, open the door. We both have better things to be doing.”

  That wasn’t true in Marc’s case. Other than Angie, there was no one he’d rather spend time with than this smaller, angrier version of her.

  “Fine!”

  Charlie had reached his limit and instead of pushing, he yanked on the mental door and fell into a large room in his father’s mind. A young Angela was what he saw.

  She’s adorable, was Charlie’s first thought. Sitting in a chair in the far corner of a crowded room, she seems sad, was his second. The little girl was dressed smartly for the holiday, almost a Christmas angel, but no one talked to her or offered her anything from the long table everyone else was picking through. Was she being punished?

  As he watched, the number of guests steadily increased and each time the door opened to admit these new family members, the little girl’s eyes would fly open and give him an awful glimpse of desperate hope. She was waiting for someone, Charlie realized, unable to fit that pretty and clearly vulnerable kid, with his mom.

  The door opened again, letting in another large group and this time, instead of quickly hidden disappointment, there was a flash of indescribable joy in the little girl’s gaze. Only lasting for an instant, it was missed by everyone who had turned toward the new arrivals, but two of the coat-bound incomers had seen that telling expression. The first was his dad and Charlie had no trouble recognizing this pre-teen boy as the man whose memory he was sharing. They were nearly identical still.

  Young Marc was grinning, calling out and responding to greetings, and his eyes skipped over the little girl without even a glance. The group moved to the full rack to hang their coats up and the snow-covered boy managed to place himself behind it, hanging up his parent’s jackets.

  Out of sight, young Marc finally glanced her way and Charlie’s jaw dropped at the open fire there. He’d wanted her! At that age!

  Angered, Charlie started to pull back, but stopped at his father’s command. “Wait.”

  Reluctant, he turned back to the image, to the girl. She almost seemed to have fallen back into a doze, but Charlie saw her face flush in response to young Marc’s look. Her lashes were lowered and she casually moved her hands, stretching out her fingers. Only… had that been a code?

  After being around the Eagles so much, Charlie recognized the motions as too orderly and wasn’t surprised to see young Marc nod before coming out from behind the rack.

  “What did she say?” Charlie asked, drawn despite himself.

  “She’d be outside.”

  “I don’t want to see that.”

 
; “You won’t.”

  The little girl was slipping out now and no one asked her where she was going or told her to button-up. In fact, they seemed to be acting like she didn’t even exist.

  “Why do they hate her?” As soon as Charlie asked, he knew.

  “You tell me,” Marc instructed, sensing they were finally on the edge.

  Charlie watched one of the newest arrivals flinch back to let the child go out first. “They know what she can do. They fear her.”

  “Feared,” Marc corrected. “It was a long time ago, but there’s more to this than just that. She was an example to them, of who not to cross.”

  The door closed behind the little girl, cutting off the glimpse of her startling face of misery and hope, and Charlie knew young Marc’s would be the replica. He didn’t want to see that and he glanced over the other people instead. His family?

  Charlie’s gaze stopped at the matching eyes of a tall, intimidating woman standing near the coat rack Marc had been behind. She was imposing, impeccable in her black and white robes… and she was staring at the door too, only her face was filled with fury.

  “Mother Brady.”

  She was the other person who had noticed the little girl’s joy when they’d first come in and she didn’t like it. Not even a little.

  Marc’s tone dripped with loathing and pain, “She’s the reason you were without a father.”

  The woman snapped her head around, as if in response to older Marc’s voice, and Charlie couldn’t tell if she’d been fast enough to see it on her young son’s face. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, he thought. Feelings that strong couldn’t be hidden.

  Or fought, he added slowly. The image faded into darkness, but Charlie didn’t back out yet.

  “I’d like to see something else.”

  “Depends on what it is.”

  “How you found out… about me.”

  Charlie winced at the instant bright rays of happiness coming from the man now in the Ohio hall in front of him. From the garbage and cracked glass, there was no doubt it had been after the War. When Warren’s death came, the world darkened and Charlie withdrew. He leaned his head against his hands, thinking about what he had seen.

  “You’ve had a different life than the one your mother and I would have chosen. Some people let that sort of thing eat them up, but considering your parents, I know you’re not that weak.”

  Marc lit a smoke and opened the bottom of the flap to clear the smoke, but missed the shadow that had frozen outside as he studied his son.

  “Would you like to see more?”

  “No you and… mom stuff.”

  “I promise.”

  “Okay… Show me where you guys lived.”

  Kenn had been heading to his tent, but Marc’s words had drawn his ear and now he couldn’t move.

  “…your mother and I…”

  Brady was the boy’s real father. They had known each other before the War, like he’d suspected! A wave of rage descended over Kenn’s numb limbs and he clenched his hands into tight fists without noticing. In the back of his head, two voices were arguing.

  One was defensive, wearing Adrian’s jacket. The other was the evil Marine who’d once punched Angela in the face and broken her nose. That was the old Kenn. He’d been raised to control and manipulate, and it was the feel of that familiar hatred that snapped him from his trance and spun his feet toward the training tent.

  While he walked, his hands went over the 9 mm on his hip and the guard on the area headed for Adrian.

  4

  Angela had never been so sore, so fast.

  "Uhh." She dropped down into the lounge chair with a pain-filled grunt, knowing when her muscles eased she'd get some relief. The workout celebration after getting her rookie jacket, then the impromptu fighting lesson Kyle had suggested, had taken its toll on her. The large steam tent was empty except for a dozen chairs and towels laid out and she sunk further down into the foldout seat as cold water dripped and thick clouds of damp fog floated from the center ring of hot rocks.

  Angela tried to relax as the sweat began to drip from her salty skin. She had done the entire workout this time, the one Kyle and Seth did five days a week. Compared to Marc, who did his own course every day instead of working out with the men, the Eagles were in better shape, as hard as that was to believe. They were cut, strong, and she was looking forward to that too, wanted everything that came with being in Adrian's army.

  "OOhh." She shifted, wincing as she searched for a spot that didn't put pressure on her shoulders. The one-legged pushups were the hardest on her. The Eagles had warned her she was doing too much and she'd assumed there would be soreness, but this... this was hell. Her thighs, shoulders, arms, and sides were foreign invaders intent on making her cry and every movement was torture. It had taken only an hour to achieve. How long would it last?

  "I don't know. You sure? He didn't send us."

  "Yes."

  Voices outside the steam tent made Angela’s heart thump and her fingers slid to the gun at her side. Covered by her towel, it was a comfort she went nowhere without. When the two Eagles ducked inside, wearing only shorts, her eyes narrowed in a warning they couldn't miss, finger tightening on the trigger.

  Slightly breathless from the sight of her cut-offs and half top, both men recognized the clear desire to be left alone, and took chairs that were next to each other, but not her.

  "UUgg."

  Seth's grunt had Angela hiding a smirk. He had claimed he was past that level, too hard to be made sore.

  The men settled into the chairs, steam flowing from the rocks in neat, soothing waves, and Angela closed her eyes. If it had been anyone else, she probably would have left, but these two took turns guarding her. She had nothing to fear from them. It was time she believed it.

  "The others are coming."

  That got her eyes back open. The wariness that came into her body had her tensing and trying to hide the discomfort.

  "Seth and I will stay as long as you do."

  Kyle's words sent reason back into her scared mind and she slammed her eyes shut. Eagles didn’t run. "Okay."

  Both males had thought she would leave. The amount of skin she had showing was enough to make a man think bad thoughts and the two Eagles tried to keep their minds from it, not wanting her to know. Adrian had sent her in here to loosen up and then sent the men in behind her without a warning to toughen her up. It was another lesson.

  "Isn't everything with him a training session?" she muttered as more voices echoed.

  Kyle had to respond. "Yes.”

  Angela shifted again, unable to stifle a short moan. "Ohh... Good. I need it."

  "Did you see that hit?" The voices were right outside the flap now.

  "Amazing."

  "I’ve never seen a girl punch that hard."

  "Woman." There was good-natured laughter.

  "You got that right. Marc's a lucky man."

  The males began ducking into the steam tent, each of them freezing at the sight of Angela laid back, nearly naked, and dripping sweat. Men bumped into each other and then became still, unwilling to turn away.

  Kyle and Seth got up and moved to the chairs that flanked hers. It told the others she had protection, even in here, and testosterone flooded the tent at the clear challenge.

  "Stop it!" Angela hissed. "I'm so fucking sore my hair hurts. All I want is to burn some of it off. Sit down or go away!"

  Her orders (and that's what they were) brought sanity back to the men and they did as they were told. Seth and Kyle kept their seats on either side of her, just in case.

  After a few minutes, small conversations were going, men ignoring her as best they could. Except for the uncomfortable feeling of having eyes crawling along her exposed flesh, Angela now felt little fear despite being mostly naked and surrounded by men who were the same. Her outburst had calmed her nerves. These were Adrian's soldiers. They would learn to be okay with each other.

  Kenn was searching the
camp. After finding the training tent nearly empty, he'd started at the Qz and began following her back trail. The steam tent was the only place he hadn’t tried yet, and with every step his fury had grown.

  "He’s coming."

  Angela's words caused immediate tension.

  "He discovered a secret, I think. I'll handle it." She gave a quick look around, "Can you guys pretend I don't need your help? It’ll give me the edge."

  There were understanding nods at the tactic. Psychology had been one of their recent lessons with Adrian and all of them were eager for the practice, but more than that, they wanted her free, too, and facing her demons was the only way she would get it.

  Kenn ducked into the sweat tent... and his gaze went immediately to the rounded body splayed out provocatively between Seth and Kyle. Angela was in here with all these men. Alone. And in a skimpy outfit that might as well have been her bra and underwear. Heat began to fill his vision. The bra and underwear would have covered more.

  Rage began to take over and his military mind started sorting it out. When he acted, they'd go for him. How did he handle them all and live long enough to end her?

  Angela observed the dangerous Marine through narrowed slits, pretending she hadn't noticed him yet. When she didn't respond to his menacing stare, they all felt his anger grow.

  The Eagles were giving Kenn warning glares, telling him she was welcome here, and Marc’s words came to him again.

  "…your mother and I…”

  "You whore!" He muttered it in hurt surprise at the wound, drawing harsh glares, but when he headed for her, none of the Eagles moved, and it threw him off a bit. They had to know he was ready to kill. Why weren't they protecting her? Surely they didn't think she could handle herself?

  "Get up and get the fuck out of here!" He growled the words at her, the menacing tone one that had always had her cowering in the past.

  Angela shook her head. "You get out."

  Fury broke over Kenn in an insurmountable wave and the Marine finally snapped, lunging down to grab her by the neck.