by Matt Troy
I was rewarded with the faintest shade of pink across Callum's cheeks as he looked away from me. "Really? You didn't mind about the …"
Oh he was so shy! This was so sweet, no wonder my friends were always so intolerable to me if I acted like this. But, of course, I was far better than my friends and therefore was not going to tease and generally try to make Callum get all flustered.
I decided to conveniently forget that my practical experience in normal relationships wasn't the greatest. My grin widened to Chesire cat proportions. "That was actually the high point of the day," I informed him, before suddenly being gripped with a burst of panic. What if Callum was having second thoughts and I was embarrassing the guy as all he wanted to do was continue to do the whole 'casual friendship' thing? Suddenly unable to maintain the calm and collected persona, I snatched my hands back from his hair as it was my own turn to blush. "Ah, but if it was just meant in friendship or something, that's cool. I mean, I know you Americans go in for all those casual displays of affection and stuff…"
My retreating hands were firmly caught and halted in their withdrawal. Callum rolled his eyes, now once again apparently the one in charge. "Yeah and I thought we were the ones who spent hours angsting in big long monologues too."
I smiled. "Nah, we got there first. Or didn't you ever read 'Hamlet'? There's the 'I'm a bit of a tit' monologue, followed by the 'I really am a great big tit and should curl up and die' one or the…"
"Blake? Shut up."
I sighed in mock hurt. "Look at this. Not even twenty-four hours and already the magic has gone to be replaced with you telling me to be quiet." Getting over it, I moved away from Callum and gestured towards the counter. "But I'll forgive you if you can help me out."
Callum looked over with a raised eyebrow. "And what exactly are you doing?"
"I thought that was obvious. I'm making myself some breakfast. Duh."
Callum smirked at me. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."
"And the highest form of intelligence, sweetie," I shot back. "Now can you show me where you keep the knives in this place?"
Callum blinked. "What?"
I rolled my eyes, wondering if perhaps I was accidentally speaking in the wrong language this morning. "You know, sharp-edged, bladed implements used to chop things with, notably mushrooms in this case. I can't find them anywhere."
"Oh," Callum pointed towards a drawer at the far end of the counter. "There should be some in there. Sorry. We don't have them where they can be seen or found easily. I guess I forgot."
Chapter 3
I made my way over to the designated drawer and pulled an impressively big knife from within. Spinning back to face Callum, I was surprised to see him flinch. Obviously the boy seems to think me and knives are a bad combination. "How come?" I asked; making my way over to the chopping board and setting into the mushrooms with abandon. Callum retreated to the breakfast bar and busied himself in his mug of coffee. "I mean; knives are a pretty essential part of general cooking. Surely it would be better to have them somewhere you could grab them easily?" I glanced over my shoulder at Callum, but he was engrossed with the beverage in his mug.
He shrugged at my questions. "It's a long story and sort of difficult to explain," he said in a voice that clearly indicated any further discussion on the subject wouldn't be overly welcomed.
I turned back to the mess I was making and frowned. This seemed to be a weird development. Did all the Norrington's have a thing about knives or just some of them? And which ones? Pretty strange considering that was the exact weapon that was going to be used to murder William. Then I had another thought and nearly sliced off my fingers.
I'd never seen Callum with a knife. We'd gone out to eat and stuff, but it had always been at places where you used either chopsticks or no cutlery at all. William, Naomi and Mr Norrington had all seemed perfectly au fait with the usual type of knives at that one breakfast I'd had with them, so maybe it was only Callum that had the problem with knives. But what exactly was his problem with them? Did he keep himself away from knives willingly or at the orders of others? This could be pretty important, but to my surprise, I found myself rinsing off the knife and replacing it before continuing with my cooking. Despite the fact that this could be the one fact that cleared Callum in the eyes of my friends, I didn't want to force the guy into talking about something with which he felt uncomfortable. Damn me for being sympathetic all of a sudden. If this is where sentiment gets you, no wonder as a nation we're all so down on it.
Finally ending up with something that loosely resembled food, I tipped the stuff onto a plate and made my way over to join Callum, brandishing only a fork.
It seemed eating utensils of the pronged variety were acceptable, for Callum looked up at me and smiled. "Got anything planned for today?"
I swallowed another mouthful of mushroom and eggs before answering. "Not really. Feel like some company?" I smiled in my most charming manner.
Callum looked away from me for a moment. "Uh, today's not really good for me. I've got some stuff that I have to do. We can meet up in the evening though?"
I kept my face looking calm and unconcerned. "Sounds good." A thought occurred to me. "I might give Ree a ring, see if she's around."
Callum pulled a face. "She won't be around today, I'm afraid. You might just have to fend for yourself."
Okay so the only two local people who I wanted to hang out with had were all booked out for the day. I wasn't insanely curious. I also wasn't feeling in the least bit suspicious about why I wasn't being told just what was going on. This was because I was not going to turn into one of those obsessive wannabe stalker boyfriends. I was just going to spend the day researching possible murder suspects in the library or something. No big deal. See me not make this into a big deal. See me remaining all cool. "Really? What are the two of you up to? Or is it some local day off thing?" Crap. And I'd been doing so well.
Callum didn't look very comfortable with my questioning but was clearly doing his best to hide it. "Nothing that important, just somewhere we have to be for a while."
I forced a smile onto my face. "We’ll have fun wherever it is you're off to. I think I'll hide from my friends in the relaxing sanctuary known as the library. They'll never think of looking for me there."
Callum laughed quietly, still not sounding completely genuine. "Cunning plan."
I waved a hand breezily, more than happy to go along with the performance. "Yes, well. Genius just comes naturally to me." I rose and carried my plate over to the sink, feeling the smile fade the moment my back was to Callum. Damn, I was suddenly getting bombarded with mysterious sounding stuff and bizarre behaviour and I wasn't doing a fucking thing about it in case I upset Callum. When did I become so pathetic?
I heard Callum get up from his stool not long after and he came to silently join me by the sink for a minute. "So the evening's okay?"
There was an uncertain note in his voice that made me torn between wanting to pet the boy until he felt better or maybe to just shake him and demand answers. Instead, I did the pathetic cheery smile thing that I'd always hated in other people. "This evening will be great," I told him, managing to sound more sincere than I'd hoped. "We could catch a film or something?"
Callum nodded. "A film sounds good. And since I'm the one leaving you with nothing to do today, I guess I'll even let you pick."
I grinned, focusing on his adorable expression. "Well then you'd better not show up late or I'll make you sit through some chick flick. Or maybe even Disney if I get pissed off enough."
Callum laughed. "Is that a warning or an incentive?"
I shrugged. "Just setting out the rules."
Callum smirked and gave me a brief hug before leaving the kitchen. I turned back to my plate and had just replaced it when Keiran walked in. "Oi Blake, got anything planned for today? I've been ditched by all and sundry and was wondering if you'd keep me entertained."
I paused to look at Keiran suspiciously. "Aren't you suppo
sed to be sharing guard duty with Matt? Why the day off?"
Keiran shrugged and walked over to inspect the coffee machine. "Dunno. Matt volunteered to pull a whole day and I wasn't going to complain. So what are you up to?"
I decided to stick with my library idea. "Research. I'm hitting the library to unearth the skeletons in the Norrington closet."
Keiran snorted. "Mate, the only thing in the Norrington closet was Callum and he's pretty much out and about now." He poured himself a cup of coffee and gulped about half of it down in one go. "But other than that, it sounds solid. Let's go."
I raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure I was hearing right. While quite the bookworm in class, I'd never seen Keiran willingly enter a library. He had a thing about the keeping quiet part that seemed to accompany most of the aforementioned institutions. I shrugged mentally. What the hell, it wasn't like we were going to be here long enough to get slapped with a ban. "Well in that case finish off your coffee and we'll go."
We made it to the library without any problems or arguments. We even made it inside. Then the first of my problems made itself clear. Library means place to do research: a reasonable enough association. I even knew how to look up articles and stuff on a particular author using the computers. But I'd only ever done it for fiction. And fiction I wasn't currently in the process of living out. I stared at the huge piles of records and papers in complete helplessness. Keiran standing beside me with an air of expectancy didn't seem to notice anything amiss. But then again, like I previously said, he and libraries weren't a natural combination.
"So," he declared brightly. "Where's the stuffy-yet-cool British librarian bloke who used to do those coffee ads?"
"We're not in Buffy," I told him. "We didn't choose the vampires; we don't get the funky librarian."
Kieran pouted. "Well that's no fun. You mean we have to go through all this stuff by ourselves?"
I tried to sound positive. "I'm sure it's just like looking up articles on a certain book, but we'll be using the old newspapers and stuff to find anything interesting."
A snort next to me revealed Keiran's innate hatred of research resurfacing. I expected to see the guy turn around and walk out, but instead he visibly forced himself to stay and turned to me with the fakest grin I've seen in my life. "Better get started then."
I watched him sit himself down at the nearest computer terminal with narrowed eyes. Something was definitely up with him. Maybe he'd had a fight with the others or something. I shrugged to myself and sat down at the terminal next to Keiran. Oh well, it'll give me something to think about while I'm scrolling through a million and one documents.
And seriously, I should have realised that I wasn't in a Hollywood movie before I sat down to my little task. Whereas in every film or show I'd ever seen involving some plucky student/researcher/janitor sitting in front of a computer screen showed said individual effortless skimming through masses of intriguing articles of scandal and other nefarious dealings, I was stuck reading about yet another charity donation made by Norrington bloody Enterprises. Couldn't they at least do some cut-throat, grudge-inducing take-overs or something? Thinking back to the first chapter of the book, I vaguely recalled some details about such a deal that was to be finalised in the near future. Precious little evidence of anything on this system, I thought sourly. And I was even looking at the business pages.
I leaned back in my seat and looked over at Keiran. "Find anything- … what are you doing?"
Coughing to hide the sudden look of embarrassment on his face, Keiran quickly flicked up another window on the computer. "Research, mate. What’s it looking like?"
Sometimes I wondered how stupid my friends thought I was. "Keiran. I just saw you call up that window. What was on the other one? It didn't look like research."
Keiran feigned innocence. "It didn't?"
"It looked like comic strips."
"Very important tool for political commentary," Keiran defended hotly. "If there's a hint of something amiss, that's where we'll find it."
I wasn't going to buy this for a minute. "In a national newspaper perhaps, but this is just a local one. And I hardly think the Norringtons equate with the current government administration." I sighed and stood up. "I'm going to take a break. Can you keep an eye on my stuff while I grab a drink?"
Instead Keiran also got to his feet. "Actually, I could do with some refreshment myself," he remarked. Glancing around the library, Keiran shrugged. "It's not like it's busy or anything, we should be alright leaving our stuff here for a while."
After reassuring the librarian that we had no intention of eating or drinking anywhere near the books, we were given directions to a vending machine and several seats, which were arranged to form a small relaxation area. The actual vending machines gave me more trouble as I fumbled about with the unfamiliar change. "Oi, Keiran? Got any shrapnel? All I've got is those bloody nickel things."
Keiran passed me a handful of coins. "How come you have no change anyway?"
I pulled a face as I fed the quarters into the machine. "Spent 'em playing pool."
Keiran snorted. "Some things never change. So that's how you've been spending your days while the rest of us have been forced to experience wedding preparations?"
I flashed the blond one of my best evil smirks. "Don't get pissy with me, mate. You lot told me to hang around with Callum." My coffee appeared to be ready and I cautiously manoeuvred the plastic cup away from the dispenser. I sipped at it and felt a pang of annoyance that even the instant machine crap tasted better than the stuff we got fobbed off with in the UK.
Keiran shrugged and selected his own coffee. "I'll give you that one," he admitted. "But you still have no idea how boring the whole thing is. The girls might find it all interesting, but even William gets this blank look on his face whenever Norrington and Naomi launch into another planning session."
I laughed. "I always thought it was the mother of the bride that was meant to take charge of the whole event. Shouldn't Norrington just be sitting to one side contemplating future grandchildren?"
Kieran took a drink of his coffee and snorted. "Fucked if I know, mate. Maybe they take this whole equal opportunities thing a bit too seriously." He paused to take another sip and frowned as though suddenly remembering something. "Oh, wait a minute. Norrington's the one paying for this. I guess it makes sense that way, he wants to know his money isn't being wasted."
"Oh?" I asked. "I thought tradition stated the bride's family paid."
"I don't think they have as much money," Keiran commented offhandedly. "And anyway, Norrington offered. He's really keen on Naomi. Thinks she and William are quite the perfect match."
I muttered something incomprehensible into my cup. Suddenly a shrill ringing noise made me jump. Keiran hastily reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. "Darjeeling here," he greeted.
I rolled my eyes. "You guys are actually using those code-names?" I asked in amazement.
Keiran glared at me and motioned for me to shut up as he obviously concentrated on whatever the person at the other end of the line was saying. "Yeah, he's just being a dickhead. Uh-huh. No … nothing yet. Yeah, I know. Really? Well if you're sure … okay. Talk to you later." He ended the call and replaced his phone in a pocket.
I raised my eyebrows in an enquiring gesture. "Well? Are you going to tell me what that was about?"
Keiran shrugged and ran a hand through his spiked hair. "General progress report. Everything seems calm over at the Norrington's house so Carly's heading into town to see what gossip she can find. She thinks a manicure might be a good cover."
I rolled my eyes. "What about a full-body tattoo?" I tossed the plastic cup in a nearby bin and got to my feet. "Oh well, guess that's the cue to get back to work."
I half-expected Keiran to finish his coffee; after all, he still had a good amount of it left. Instead he put it to one side and followed me back to the computers. His dedication made me smirk; wedding planning must be really bad for this
to seem interesting.
THE END
(FREE BOOK)
THRILLER
KILL OR BE KILLED
The Erotic Flashback.
He was certainly a mercenary, he had this particular swagger, this incredible poise, even when crossing the river banks or hacking through jungles sweating out his guts.
Captain ‘Killer’ Kelly had followed him for six miles through the night. Across the river bank, through a section of the Singha Raja Forest; now he was resting, getting his breath in short, gasping snorts preparatory to traverse the home stretch.
Home of Praba, the Satan of war, the vicious terrorist whose religion was taking lives, the shedding of blood, the stirring of maniacal passion in men who would be far better off home screwing their wives, tilling their fields drinking their Palmyra palm toddy, loving their children.
The mercenaries were the left hand of this fanatic who loved war above everything and who lived in ultimate comfort and protection and seclusion among his fellow fanatics deep in the jungle.
It was captain ‘killer’ Kelly’s job to bring the man out from his jungle lair. To topple the mad men. To eliminate the rebel group, to educate the mad-man’s followers or kill them, to bring peace once again to Elephant pass and peace to the northern province.
Captain Kelly’s job for the moment was to topple Selva a petty chief and the eastern province war lord.
As a highly trained commando his mission was to penetrate deep into the jungle where the terrorist were taking refuge and also terrorizing the innocent indigenous people living there. His job as a sniper was to bring the leader of a small group of terrorists from his jungle lair.
To eliminate this despot. His superiors threw the challenge on their faces and as none was prepared to volunteer, captain Kelly, like the ass hole he was volunteered least expecting that the mission would be a one man show. If he had known what he learned, he probably wouldn’t have spoken too soon, but now it was too late. He knew he had a great deal more to learn, all of it bad, he was to live off the land alone and confront a small group of terrorists armed to the teeth. What he didn’t know was how many were there in this particular group. He was dropped off at the edge of the jungle and from there he was on my own.