Migration: Beginnings (Migration Series Book 1)

by Walter Hopgood

  “Let me wash your hair,” Jason says, and guides Rhys further under the water. Rhys reluctantly lets go of his husband, cutting their embrace as he raises his hands to get his hair thoroughly wet. He drops them to his side as he hears Jason close the shampoo bottle and deposit it back in the shower caddy, and nearly moans as Jason’s nimble fingers course lovingly across his scalp.

  Rhys returns the favor after he manages to get all the shampoo out of his hair and runs a bar of soap over his body. He turns, letting Jason finish washing, and leans over, sneaking a kiss as he reaches for the shower controls. They stand there, motionless, staring into each other’s eyes until Jason leans down, putting his head on Rhys’ shoulder. The monumental loss of the project weighs heavy on them both.

  “I know, sweetheart,” Rhys says, bringing up a hand to Jason’s shoulder, comforting his husband.

  They hang up their towels and walk into their bedroom. Jason goes to the window to pull the drapes closed so that it instantly darkens the room. Rhys sits on the edge of the bed, still naked from their shower, and reaches for Jason as he passes.

  “Let’s just get some sleep,” Rhys says, pulling Jason closer to him.

  Jason leans down for a kiss and climbs into bed, getting under the covers. He pulls Rhys to him when they settle, the room quiet except for an occasional sniffle or sigh. They stay like that, Rhys absolutely not sleeping, as Jason snuggles up to him, skin plastered against skin. And though they are both naked, Rhys knows this isn’t about sex. Jason strengthens his grip on his husband, holding on as tight as he can; it’s about security, unconditional love, and healing.

  Chapter 25

  There’s a quiet knock at the door, which is followed by, “Boys?” Rhys reaches out for his glasses and focuses on the clock, realizing it’s late afternoon; Donna had let them sleep more than just a couple hours.

  Reaching out to touch Jason’s bare shoulder, Rhys quietly calls back, “We’re up, Donna. Thanks. We’ll be down in a few minutes,” and then hears her footfalls retreat.

  “Jase?” he says, and looks at his husband, expecting to find him asleep. Instead, Jason is wide-awake and staring at him with big, desolate eyes.

  “I know, babe,” Rhys says, leaning down for a kiss. He then stands, stretching his back to fight the tightness. He heads to his dresser and pulls out some clothes, Jason silently doing the same thing from his own dresser. When they’re finally decent, Rhys goes to the door and waits as Jason joins him. He leans his forehead against his husband’s and takes Jason’s hand into his own. “I love you, sweetheart,” he says.

  “Love you too, boo,” Jason replies, and leans forward and steals a kiss of his own.

  By the time they get downstairs, the sun has started to set and Donna is once again holding court over a pot of something on the stove that smells delectable. He realizes that they’ve not had a regular meal since the late lunch they managed before leaving Nepal, only having time to grab snacks or whatever was available in the galley of the transport plane.

  “What is it?” Rhys asks, adding, “It smells wonderful.”

  Rhys sits down at the table, guiding Jason next to him as Mike grabs a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. “Farfalle with marinara and chicken saltimbocca,” she replies, adding, “One of Jason’s favorites.”

  She takes an oversized pan out of the oven and sets it on a trivet, telling Mike to get the plates. “And key lime pie for dessert,” she adds, giving Rhys a wink. She must have overheard him saying that it was his favorite.

  After dinner is doled out and everyone starts eating, Donna says, “I haven’t told your dad what was going on yet,” just as Mike manages to take a big bite of pasta. Rhys watches as her eyes playfully spark as Mike goes to try and talk, but can’t through the chewy noodles. “Figure you two could tell him as you’re filling me in on where you’ve been the last few days.”

  Jason automatically reaches for the fake pendant that hangs on the silver chain underneath the collar of the t-shirt, but stays steadfastly quiet. Instead, he turns and says, “Boo?”

  Rhys understands his request, and is happy to fill in the details for his in-laws, but first he reaches over, pulling the necklace from where it was hiding, letting it fall against the material on Jason’s chest as he starts to recant everything they’d been through. He glosses over the part with Bartlett, figuring that he’ll tell Donna and Mike that part after they’ve opened a good bottle of wine sometime later.

  Once their tale is over, Mike sits at the table with a shocked look on his face until he finally turns to his wife. “That old fool!” he says, and everyone instantly knows whom he’s talking about. “How in the…Jesus Christ.” Mike continues to sputter for a few minutes as Jason hands him a napkin to clean the errant liquid that Mike spilled by putting his glass down too fast.

  “I know,” Donna says, adding, “Trust me, I said the exact same thing.” She heads to the kitchen sink, carefully placing the dishes in the sink before starting to run some water.

  “I’ll take care of those,” Rhys says, but he’s shooed away.

  “I’m just going to let them soak for a little bit first,” she explains as she motions him back to the table.

  Nodding, Rhys retreats back to the closet where they store wine and comes back with a couple of good bottles of Pinot Noir. He waves them at Jason, who says, “Oh God, yes,” before going to the counter and getting them opened. He grabs the bottles, and asks Mike to grab a few glasses, then motions for everyone to follow him into the living room.

  Donna is last to join them, bringing the pie with her, along with a knife, forks, and plates. Jason pours out four glasses of the expensive Pinot Noir as everyone settles in.

  As she hands out the first slice of the pie, Donna gives Rhys and Jason a look. “Jason, honey?” she starts, looking at her son as she hands the pie over to Rhys, “Now that you’re back, your dad and I are going to stay tonight, and then head home in the morning.” She reaches out, touching Jason’s shoulder. “Is that okay?”

  “Yeah, Mom,” Jason answers. Donna turns to Rhys, and he nods. “You’ve been up here long enough. You and Dad deserve a little time alone without having to take care of half the neighborhood kids.” Just then, they hear Leslie and her family out in their yard next door though Leslie’s laugh easily comes through the walls. “Or put up with our crazy neighbors.”

  “Oh, that reminds me,” Donna says. She actually looks a little embarrassed. “You’re out of rum. Again.”

  The family spends time catching up and finishes off both bottles of wine and half the pie, Mike catching them up on all he went through in Europe, and Donna telling them about the neighborhood shenanigans that had been going on since they left. Before they know it, the sun has set, and both Rhys and Jason are yawning again.

  Nodding, Rhys stretches as he stands. “I can’t believe I’m tired already,” he says, glancing at the clock and seeing that it’s only a few minutes after 8:00 p.m. “We just took a nap.”

  “And exactly how many time zones did you cover in the last few days?” Mike asks.

  Rhys just shakes his head with a grimace, and Mike waves him off. “You two boys go on up to bed, son. We’ll lock up down here,” and just then, Jason comes back from the kitchen, a yawn plainly covering his face, stretching and Rhys can’t help but glance at the little slip of skin he can make out as Jason’s shirt pulls upward with the stretch.

  “You two are makin’ me tired!” Mike says as Jason leans down to grab the glasses. “Leave that to me and your mother. You two head upstairs and get a good night’s sleep.”

  Rhys is too exhausted to argue, and he figures Jason is as well, by the watery eyes his husband is sporting. He reaches out to grab Jason’s hand, and pulls his husband toward the stairs.

  “G’night, Donna! Good night, Mike!” he says, letting go of Jason’s hand as they reach the bottom of the stairs.

  “Night Mom and Dad,” Jason says, and walks over and gives them both a squeeze.

&n
bsp; Rhys turns back and reaches for his husband, who finally starts ascending the stairs. They sleepily make their way to their bedroom, and by the time they crawl into bed, both are out in an instant.

  Chapter 26

  It’s been a couple days since Gareth has heard anything from his network of informants who had been keeping watch over everyone involved in the secret project. He wakes up and glances at the clock, seeing that it’s just after 8:00 a.m., so he gets out of bed and goes to the bathroom, his mind racing with all the different thoughts. There’s anger from Bartlett getting caught, and even more anger that his plan to keep the beam in Asia failed. But mostly he feels anxious because he’s never been one for waiting. And that’s exactly what this whole episode has turned into for him: an unwelcome exercise in patience.

  A few minutes after he’s out of bed, he’s in the apartment’s small kitchen making coffee. As he presses the button to begin the brew, he checks his phone, which doesn’t respond at first. He clicks the power button again, but still nothing. “Fucking battery,” he says, and walks over to where his charger hangs from the wall and plugs it in.

  While the battery gets the minimum charge in order to turn on, Gareth goes back to the coffeemaker, stopping it after it brews and pours himself a cup. He replaces the carafe and hears the tri-tone coming from his phone, indicating that he has a message. “I knew it,” he grumbles, going to the phone. He picks it up and punches a few buttons to get to the voicemail, putting it on speaker so that he doesn’t have to unplug his phone.

  There’s a sound of crackling, and then a quiet voice comes through the tiny speaker and Gareth raises an eyebrow. Based on the number, it was his person in Portland, so there had to have been movement.

  “This is Duncan. Targets have returned to home base. Awaiting further instructions,” and then the line goes dead.

  Punching up the phone function, Gareth dials his contact back. When the line picks up, he just says, “Text me your location. I’ll be there in a few hours,” and hangs up.

  This is good, he thinks, and feels a weight come off his shoulders. Gareth is finally going to have some closure, and take back what rightfully belonged to his family. The conclusion is so close, with the device almost in his grasp, that he can almost feel it in his bones.

  Chapter 27

  Saturday morning finds Rhys waking up earlier than normal. He’s still groggy as he feels for Jason next to him, but he already knows the bed is empty. He puts on his glasses and pads over to the window, where the sun is streaming in. He kneels down and pets Baxter, who is sleeping lazily in a pool of sunshine, before leaving the bedroom.

  Rhys wanders down the stairs calling, “Jase?” but there’s no answer. He goes to the kitchen and finds a freshly made pot of coffee with a note on the counter nearby. ‘Going for a run. Be back soon’ it reads. He sighs, knowing the uncertainty of the project still weighed heavily on Jason’s psyche, just as it did his own, and that for Jason, running was his preferred method of therapy.

  Rhys crumbles the paper and tosses it into their recycle bin. With Jason out of the house, he pours himself a cup of coffee and decides to head to his office. Jason would probably be gone for about an hour, which was his normal run time, but considering everything, it could be a lot longer.

  He walks into his office and glances at the far wall where Ainslie’s air mattress had been, instantly frowning at the loss. Even though they had helped watch her for just a few days while her mother was out of town, she’d made a difference in their lives. Rhys and Jason loved to play the role of the spoiling uncles, but he wonders, now that their lives are coming back to normality, if they should start looking into adoption.

  Sitting down, he pushes the power button on his laptop, and his mind starts to wander but tries to focus on work. He’s half a dozen reports in when he hears Jason call from the front of the house, “I’m home!” so Rhys gets up and grabs his empty coffee cup and heads downstairs to the kitchen.

  “Hey, boo,” Jason says as he grabs a glass of water. “You sleep okay?”

  Nodding, Rhys says, “Like the dead.” He fills his coffee cup back up with the rich, warm brew and says, “So I was thinking…”

  “Uh, oh,” Jason responds. “We’re not getting Ozzie and Harriett beds, are we?” he jokes.

  Rhys sniggers. “Oh, hell no,” he tosses back with a light laugh and a wink. “It’s just…well, with you between jobs at the moment—”

  Jason gives him a questioning look, and Rhys quickly adds, “We’re not hurting for money.”

  Jason stops him with a belted laugh. “We’re definitely not hurting for money. When was the last time you checked the bank account?”

  “Uh, not since before we left for Sacramento, I think, so it’s been a few days. Why?” Rhys responds.

  When Jason doesn’t reply to him, he looks over Jason’s shoulder as his husband fiddles with his phone, and hands it over once he’s logged into their bank’s mobile app.

  “Oh, holy crap,” Rhys says, his mind reeling at the sheer number of zeroes that had been deposited. “How in the hell did that get in there?” he asks no one in particular, and scrolls to the left to see ‘Direct Deposit US Govt. Military Payment System.’ He turns to Jason, a stunned look on his face.

  Nodding, Jason says, “Yeah, I know,” as he accepts his phone back. “At least they paid us handsomely, after all we did for them.”

  “Well,” Rhys starts, his original thought derailed for a moment. He glances back at Jason, mind returning to his previous subject and asks, “Maybe we could use some of it to start a college fund?”

  Jason stands there but for a second, the confused look quickly disappearing. “Well, Rhys Morgan Tambor,” Jason playfully says as a smile crosses his face, the realization of what Rhys is asking almost slamming into him. He winks at Rhys, and leans in for a kiss, finally holding out his hand. “We could go upstairs right now and try for one,” he jovially says.

  Snickering, Rhys adds, “We can do that, too,” as he pulls Jason to him and grabs another kiss. “But maybe we could…I don’t know.” He then looks into Jason’s green eyes and cocks his head to the side. “Actually, I literally don’t know how this would happen.” Jason and he had talked adoption for just a bit a long time ago, but it’s a subject he’s honestly clueless about.

  “Well, then why are you questioning my methods?” Jason says as he pulls Rhys to the stairs.

  And Rhys, as he’s lead up the stairs, says, “Maybe we’ll start the process later then…”

  Chapter 28

  “Progress?” General Landingham barks as he walks into the room. The scientists who helped locate the two missing sections of the beam had been working almost around the clock trying to get it to work. Trying to get something to work. While the three beams, which are currently connected and standing against a far wall of the gigantic warehouse, are still giving off some sort of electrical charge, there had been nothing in the way of actual engagement of a wormhole, or whatever it was that the device was allegedly capable of.

  Doctor Burnaby is first to report, saying, “The power is holding steady and seems to be equalized throughout all three sections of the device. But, so far, we still have no way of figuring out how to activate it properly.” Tsking, she stands back, crossing her arms. “Or if it actually does or is capable of doing anything at all.”

  Landingham is quite unhappy, and secretly he thinks that the military is getting what it truly deserves. After having Doctor Tambor and his husband go halfway around the world to gather the missing pieces and then being forced to dismiss them—even temporarily—from the project as soon as the last piece had arrived on American soil, it was high time his higher-ups feel as bad as he did when he had to let Rhys and Jason go. It was a shitty move on the government’s part—but, as they say, karma is a bitch.

  “We did check, just to make sure that whatever it’s supposed to do, that it’s not,” Doctor McManus offers. Nodding to the device, he adds, “We put a little ramp up and tri
ed to send Rollo, Doctor von Schoor's robotic rover, through, but it was stopped when it hit the wall behind it. So there must be something we’re missing.”

  With a scowl, General Landingham looks at each doctor individually, and barks, “Estimates?”

  No one is forthcoming with any additional news, or even wants to speculate. “Not even a guess?” the general almost shouts. The scientists in the room look like they’d rather blend into the walls than give their personal thoughts on the subject.

  “Doctor Tambor and Jason need to be here,” Doctor Ingred von Schoor finally offers, hands on her hips and giving Landingham a defiant look. As Landingham looks at her, she adds, “They are the ones with the most familiarity with the artifact. Maybe there’s something we’re missing.”

  Landingham contemplates his options, though he knows von Schoor is absolutely correct. With such a long familial history in Jason Frost-Tambor’s family, there could be something they’re overlooking.

  Walking out of the giant lab and into a private room, General Landingham shuts the door behind him and makes a phone call. It only takes a few minutes, and not as much yelling as he would have thought, but it’s finally done. He opens the door, walking back to where the scientists are working, a smile on his face.

  “Franks!” Landingham calls out behind him.

  It takes just a few seconds for Franks, who had been waiting nearby, to come to the general’s side. “Yes, General Landingham?” she asks, standing at attention.

  Sighing, Landingham runs his hand over his face. “I’m gonna need you to get someone to collect Doctor Tambor and his husband, and get their asses down here. Pronto!”

  “Yes, sir,” Franks says, an indulgent smile on her face. Within a few strides, she’s across the room and reaching for a phone, obviously trying to figure out who up in Portland can collect the duo. She gets to a terminal, logs in, and pulls up the base directories for Oregon. As she scrolls through the list of contacts at the local Portland bases, Franks mutters, “It’s about damn time,” and the general couldn’t agree more.