Changing Tides

by Simone Anderson

  The anger surging through him, Orion recalled memories he refused to dwell on nor forget. He renewed his promise to his parents. To himself. One day, it would be worth it. They’d studied and learned. Waited and sacrificed. Soon, they would be ready. The Citizens For A Free Aelland were stronger than ever.

  He’d rounded a bend in the path, taking him closer to the center of the base, when he heard voices. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to fight or flee. He slowed his pace slightly, not willing to be caught unaware by an attacker. He crept closer to the source of the noises then stumbled to a stop as moonlight and clouds coalesced.

  A couple braced themselves against one of the building’s walls, bits of clothing strewn about. Orion stared helplessly for a long moment before turning his attention back to the running trail. What couples did and where they did it was none of his business. Still, he silently wished them well before leaving the area.

  Taking the twisting path back into the housing area, he ran by the single officers’ quarters and wondered which one Lieutenant DeMarco lived in. As special staff, Orion could probably get away with entering the building, but he’d be asking for trouble if he did.

  “Hellman?”

  Orion stopped and looked around before spotting a figure sitting on a bench under a tree. Cocking his head, he turned and stared at the speaker.

  “It’s me. Brett.” The man stood and walked toward him. “Are you just starting your run?”

  Orion shook his head.

  “Finishing it?”

  Orion nodded.

  “Sit with me?” Brett asked, cupping Orion’s cheek.

  Orion shook his head slowly. He enjoyed the warmth and pressure of the other man’s hand too much to dislodge it.

  “Why not?”

  Orion shrugged.

  “Are you scared of me?”

  He shook his head again.

  “Do you have to be somewhere else?” Brett asked.

  Orion shook his head again, unwilling to lie to the man more than necessary. He’d spent the past month avoiding this type of interaction with Brett and always telling the man no. Although he’d never said a word to Brett—he hadn’t spoken in eleven years—Brett always seemed to understand him and still wanted to spend time with him. He was one of the few people that didn’t treat Orion as if he were too stupid to understand anything. It was his own doing. He knew that. An illiterate mute was the disguise he’d donned years ago out of necessity and one that had become so ingrained in him, he never slipped out of it.

  “Then sit with me for a while. I want to get to know you better,” Brett said, sliding his hand down Orion’s arm and grabbing his fingers.

  Orion shook his head.

  “You don’t like me?”

  Orion shook his head again, wishing just once he could talk and tell Brett exactly what he wanted and how he felt. And more importantly, why it would never work for them.

  Brett smiled. “So you do like me. Good. I like you, too.”

  Orion’s eyes opened wide, and he found himself being pulled toward the bench, Brett never relinquishing his hold.

  “I’ll try to make any questions I ask yes or no, so it’s easier for you, but I know you’re not stupid,” Brett said, rubbing his thumb over Orion’s fingers. “Your first name is Orion, isn’t it? The general’s secretary told me. Probably so I would leave her alone.”

  Orion nodded.

  “Will it bother you if I call you that instead of Hellman?”

  Orion smiled and shook his head.

  Orion lost track of how much time passed while he sat with Brett, listening to the other man talk. Brett told him about himself, his family, his desires, his concerns for his future and his life. Occasionally, he asked Orion questions then he’d apologize for talking so much. Orion smiled and laughed silently, his heart breaking more at the idea of never talking to this man, of never having a real conversation. Brett offered to walk him back to his dorm, and Orion found himself agreeing, despite his reservations.

  They stopped outside the entrance to the building. Brett pulled Orion into his chest, wrapping his arms around him before slowly dipping his head down, bringing their mouths closer. A first tentative brush of lips was quickly followed by a more demanding need from both of them. Orion opened to let Brett in, relishing the feelings coursing through him. One of Brett’s hands wandered lower, squeezing his ass cheek.

  “One of these days, I want to make love to you,” Brett whispered into his ear, trailing little kisses along his jaw. The sensations went straight to Orion’s cock. He could imagine making love with Brett and wanted the same thing. “Do you run every evening?”

  Orion swallowed and nodded slowly.

  “Then I’ll see you again.”

  Orion nodded then shook his head.

  “Yes, sweetheart, I will. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone else. We’ll make this work.” Brett kissed him again before tapping his ass. “Go on. I’ll leave once you’re inside.”

  Orion nodded, clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to maintain some control over his body. With one kiss, Brett had created a need so deep, Orion wasn’t sure he’d ever be free from it.

  Chapter Two

  Brett stood in the small lounge that served as the break room and stared in horror at the video screen where images from several government-run institutions streamed, interrupting a public broadcast. The supposedly large, spacious buildings were little more than a reception area, two medical examination offices and a supply room. The next images showed cemeteries where the facilities were supposed to be, row upon row of simple, carved headstones followed by a large area that looked to be freshly dug mass grave. A disembodied voice on the video accused the government of killing its own citizens and lying about it. The next image showed a report detailing the progress of a patient named David Jonathan Williamson over the last five years, dated earlier that month then cutting to a headstone with the same name and date of birth with a date of death listed nearly eleven years earlier.

  “If they lie about this, what else is the government lying about?” The speaker paused. The images flicked to other parts of the cemetery. “We are not some foreign government. We are not crazy or lying. We are citizens of this once great country, now enslaved by a ruthless dictator, and we want our country back. Now is the time!” The screen crackled and went dark before returning to the scheduled news program.

  Noise exploded around Brett. Anger and disbelief washed over him, enveloping him completely. Loud and insistent, questions bombarded him so fast he couldn’t separate his thoughts from the words spoken by others. Who was behind the video? What did it mean? What was the end goal? Why didn’t the intelligence sectors know of this video? Of its creators? Where did they start looking? What would the government say? What was the truth?

  He’d heard the rumors that the institutions didn’t really exist. The stories had been going around for nearly a decade. It was something everyone dismissed, shaking their heads in disbelief. The government didn’t lie to them. Not about important things. Not about people’s family. President General Vanessa Landry had rooted out the last corrupt politicians when she’d removed her tyrannical father. Brett bit his cheek and turned his attention back to the problem.

  Who’d hacked into the government network? Multiple layers of security tracked all activity. Protocol dictated that no one person had all or even a large amount of knowledge of the systems. Communication personnel were some of the most heavily screened. Who had the knowledge and technology to infiltrate the infrastructure? Was the source external or internal? Would any of it matter in the government’s response? How would the government respond? They rarely answered accusations levied by terrorists or traitors, but this was different. This was something everyone in the country had seen.

  Brett reined in his thoughts. What was the most important question to be answered? Which one did his unit start with?

  Who?

  They would
start there. The reasons would come later.

  Brett turned to Tech Sergeant Raymond Westbrook, the highest-ranking enlisted man on his team. “Take half of the team and start looking into anyone who could have pulled this off. They will have security knowledge as well as video experience. It shouldn’t be a huge number of people.” Nearly every facet of a person’s life was documented in official records few people outside of the intelligence field had access to. That kind of knowledge base would have required advanced education and access to the same technology the government used. Brett scrubbed a hand over the back of his head and neck. There were no private media companies outside of the government-owned stations. “Start with the media personnel.”

  “Hold that order, Lieutenant,” Major Fitzwilliams, commanding officer for the Base Intelligence unit, stated walking up to them. “Orders are coming down. Investigating this will only validate these traitorous claims and encourage their disgraceful behavior.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Brett replied though he disagreed. Accusations like this needed to be investigated in order to ensure the stability of the country.

  “Everyone back to work,” Major Fitzwilliams ordered. “I expect all officers in the conference room now.”

  Brett joined the flow of people leaving the lounge and made his way to the secure conference room. The weekly meeting would no doubt ignore what had just been broadcast. Trying to shake off the uneasy feeling left behind by his commander’s decision, he took a seat and replayed the news. He didn’t believe in the theory that investigation added credibility. It was the same thing he’d been told when Taren was killed. There would be no search for the responsible parties, because it would mean that the government saw them, whoever was truly responsible, as a real problem or threat, which would lead to more people being murdered. Too many questions or accusations thrown out heedlessly would destabilize the government and erase everything General Landry had accomplished.

  He knew that—his father was a colonel and would make base commander soon—but it didn’t make any more sense now in this situation than it had when Taren was murdered. The need to do something pricked at his conscience. He hated the idea of not acting, of not trying to catch whoever was trying to purposely start a civil war.

  Brett schooled his features as the conference room filled up. The conversations centered around the holiday celebration, as though they hadn’t just been told that possibly hundreds of thousands of people were dead. They acted as if the government hadn’t been accused of lying about responsibility for the deaths and stealing money from its citizens, who paid extra taxes for loved ones who had been committed.

  Aware that he was being watched, Brett made sure to behave the same way as he always did. He sat in his usual seat, answered questions on his holiday as his stomach rolled with disbelief and kept his comments concise and direct. The idea of not even doing a cursory investigation didn’t make sense to him. It might have if Taren hadn’t been murdered, but he had. And the same reasons touted for not trying to find out who had killed him shouldn’t apply to an accusation of this severity.

  After the briefing ended, he headed for the bathroom then returned to his desk. Grateful for a lack of cameras inside the large windowless room, he sat down. He’d need to sort through the latest assignments, shuffling workloads as needed before he started compiling a list of people and groups who might have the ability to hack into government media systems, break into gated institutions patrolled by armed guards and get video images of everything. It was all he could do given the fact that he shouldn’t be looking into it at all.

  Brett blew out a breath and shoved a hand through his hair. He had to do something. If he didn’t, he’d start thinking about things he shouldn’t be. Things like Orion and what if the video was right? What if the government had lied to them about this? What then? More than that, what else are they are lying about?

  Brett picked up a pen and spun it through the fingers of one hand and swore. Orion should be in an institution. Somehow, Brett’s father had learned of his interest in him and checked him out. Orion was the only surviving child of Lieutenant Colonel Janice Hellman, a nationally recognized hero who had given her life to save General Vanessa Landry from an assassin’s bullet. The rest of his family had died in an accident when they swerved to prevent a runaway vehicle from hitting a group of children. It was because of those incidents that Orion, who had already been in a military academy, was kept out of the institution. Doctors claimed trauma had induced idiocy.

  If the video was right, Orion would be dead, too. Brett clenched and unclenched his fists and took another deep breath. Anger would help no one; it would only draw attention to himself.

  Tossing the pen aside, he pulled out a notepad and the file he’d been given earlier. He needed to organize his thoughts and shift internal priorities. The task at hand could help him with both ideas. His focus had been on Orion when he’d originally been handed the file, and he hadn’t paid close enough attention to it. He needed to familiarize himself with the assignment and try to recall what had been said about it. Determined, he forced his thoughts away from the man he’d been dreaming about constantly since they’d first met.

  Kissing Orion last night had been the highlight of his last few months and the perfect way to end his leave. Heck it still consumed his thoughts. He struggled to focus, then a piece of paper tucked under his keyboard caught his attention.

  Carefully pulling it out, he looked up and around the room. No one was nearby or looking in his direction. Heart pounding, he unfolded the small, white sheet. Stomach clenched, he read and reread the neatly printed block letters. Fear threatened to overwhelm him.

  Someone with access to his office and desk had left a simple note thanking him for saving their brother’s life. The message hadn’t been signed and hadn’t said anything threatening, still his unease and fear escalated. What else did they know? Did they want anything? Would they blackmail him? Would they force him to do something illegal or immoral or ask for money? Brett bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his body to calm down. He needed to figure out what his next steps would be.

  He hadn’t told anyone he’d helped the injured stranger. He certainly hadn’t told the injured man where he worked or even his name. Brett hadn’t recognized him. He hadn’t even seemed vaguely familiar. That the man knew Brett’s identity was unsettling enough. That more than one person knew and that someone had gotten in here and placed a note on his desk without raising suspicion was down right disturbing. There was no way the injured man could have made it onto base, let alone into the building without raising suspicion or getting arrested.

  Brett drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly. He couldn’t discuss this with anyone. He’d only meant to help someone. Now, he could lose everything he’d worked for. If he wasn’t careful, not only would he lose his freedom, he’d lose his life.

  The light on his phone flashed, pulling him from his thoughts.

  “Lieutenant DeMarco speaking,” Brett said into the receiver.

  “In my office, now,” Major Fitzwilliams demanded.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Brett hung up the phone. Unlocking a drawer in his desk, he removed a couple sheets of blank paper then slipped the note between them. Stopping at the cross-cut shredder used for shredding confidential information, he fed the sheets through it before heading into Major Fitzwilliams’ office.

  “Close the door and sit down, Lieutenant,” Major Fitzwilliams said firmly, waiting until Brett was seated before continuing. “Under normal circumstances, you’re right to have your team start looking into the video.”

  “These aren’t normal circumstances?”

  “No, they aren’t,” Major Fitzwilliams said. The older man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of his desk. “The person listed in that video wasn’t some random name. He’s the son of General Williamson, the head of Homeland Security.”

  Brett swore. “That—”

  “Changes everything. Yes. I wan
t you to work on it, quietly. Also, I’m not sure if you’re aware of it or not, but General Landry’s cousin and uncle were also placed in an institution years ago by her father. So, while I’m letting you proceed discreetly, we will need to wait for direction from the Capitol and Homeland Security,” Major Fitzwilliams said, steepling his fingers and leaning forward. “I trust this will not go any further.”

  “No, Sir, it won’t.” Brett stood. He’d forgotten about the scandal concerning General Landry’s uncle. Her father had taken over, declaring himself president after finding both his brother and nephew in compromising positions that had led to a judge proclaiming them mentally deficient. General Vanessa Landry was later viewed as a hero for wiping out the corruption that had been present under her father and uncle’s reigns.

  “One more thing. It has come to my attention that you’re interested in the general’s special staff member.”

  Brett let out a breath. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Don’t let it affect your job, and don’t share any of this with him or anyone else.”

  Brett nodded. “I understand, Sir. I won’t.”

  “Good. I know your choices must be made in a matter of months, but you’ll need to talk to Brigadier General Reynolds about the boy. There are circumstances that must be considered. I would, however, wait until tomorrow to approach him.”

  “Yes, Sir. Is there anything else, Sir?”

  “No, you’re dismissed.”

  Brett saluted, turned and left the office. Once back at his desk, he doled out assignments and discreetly worked with Tech Sergeant Westbrook on the video. Throughout the day, he found himself wondering how Orion was doing and if he was safe.

  * * * *

  Brett stretched and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He’d learned that a half-dozen individual teams across the country were trying to figure out who had hijacked the system and had been for the last five days. The government’s response had promised an investigation and told citizens not to believe the lies being spread by the terrorists. They’d assured people their relatives were fine.