by Charlie Cole
“Larry,” I said. “We’ve got data stored on an offshore data warehouse. I’m going to read off the website, IP address, password and login for you and I need you to confirm that you’ve got the records.”
“Okay, go ahead. I’m ready,” Larry said.
I read from the crumpled sheet of paper that Billy had given me. Every digit and dot and bit of information. It all came down to this.
“Got it,” Larry replied. I waited and listened and could hear him typing in the background of the call. The moment stretched on and on.
“Mr. Parks?” It was Larry again and for a moment I thought he had terrible news for me. The data didn’t make it. Or it was corrupted. Something to bring our operation to a screeching halt.
“Yes?”
“It’s all here,” Larry said. “The Department of Homeland Security Files have been recovered. There are also digital audio files…”
“Those are recordings from an undercover operation where both Randall Kendrick and Max Donovan implicated themselves in the murders of Chris Swenson and Tom Ellis. You’ll also hear audio there of Isabelle Athabasca murdering Max Donovan at the request of Randall Kendrick as well as the conspiracy to sell national secrets to a domestic terrorist.”
“Who?” Sinclair asked.
“Mitchell Burr,” I replied.
“You really know how to dot your I’s,” Sinclair said. “But for the record, the NSA does not engage in domestic spying.”
“With all due respect, sir,” I replied. “I don’t work for the NSA.”
“Point well taken,” Sinclair said and I think I heard a smile in his voice.
“Yes, sir,” I replied. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I’d like to take some time, sir. If you don’t mind, I miss my kids.”
“Of course,” Sinclair said. “Let’s talk in a couple days.”
Jessica walked closer, smiling.
“How’s it going?” she whispered.
“What was that?” Sinclair asked.
“Nothing, sir,” I said, giving Jessica a good-natured look.
“Tell Miss Jessica Madison to have a good time as well,” Sinclair said.
“How did you—?” I began to ask. “Never mind, sir.”
“Have a good time, Simon,” Sinclair went on. “You deserve it.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said and rang off.
“Who was that?” Jessica asked.
“It was the Deputy Director of the NSA,” I replied. “He said ‘hi’.”
Jess swallowed hard.
“He said ‘hi’ to me?” Jess asked.
“Mm-hmm,” I replied, feigned disinterest.
“Shut up!” Jess exclaimed and then laughed.
I laughed with her. We sat in the waiting room and held hands. At one point, Jess put her head in my lap and slept. I rested my hand on her side just so I could feel her breathe.
I closed my eyes, just for a moment, or so I thought. It was if I blinked and feel into a sound sleep without effort. I woke to the floor nurse touching my shoulder.
“Hmm?” I mumbled.
“Mister Bender has returned to his room,” said the nurse. She smiled and pointed out a room down the hall.
“Thank you, so much. How’s he doing?” I asked.
“He’s stable and needs to rest,” she said. “We’ve been requested by our administrators to give you special access to his room while he recovers, but please let him recuperate, okay?”
“Of course,” Jessica said and I nodded.
We stepped into Billy’s room and I saw him in the bed. He was bandaged across his chest, his head, his arm was broken. He had an IV in his arm. The heart rate monitor steadily pulsed and somehow I found that reassuring.
“Do you want to wait?” Jessica asked. I stood at his bedside, hands on the rails, looking down at him.
“Yeah.”
“We’re going to be here awhile then,” Jessica said.
“Yeah.”
“Should I get us something to eat? Are you hungry? Magazine?”
I don’t remember if I answered, but I must have nodded. Jessica touched my arm and walked out the door. I pulled up a chair to Billy’s bedside and sat in it, watching him.
Jessica returned later with burgers and fries. She brought a few magazines and sat on the other side of Billy and we waited. Nurses came in and checked vital and made conversation with Jess, but I just waited it out. I ate eventually, but never really tasted the food. I held his hand and waited.
Time passed but I don’t remember it. I remembered when he moaned in his sleep. I remember his eyes opening the slightest fraction. I remember him looking at me, focusing on me.
“Simon… you’re an ass,” he whispered.
I chuckled, then laughed. Jess smiled at me.
“I’m sorry, brother,” I said. “How are you doing?”
“I hurt,” he croaked, but his smile was there.
“I thought I lost you in there, man,” I said.
“You and me both,” he grimaced.
“Can I get you anything, Billy?” Jessica asked.
“Water?”
“Here you go,” she said and pushed it closer.
Billy took it and thanked her and drank deeply.
“Billy… we got it, man,” I said. “All the data, we got it. Thank you, man. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
“What happened to the others?” Billy asked. His face was concerned. He didn’t remember or maybe he did and the trauma was blocking it out.
“We’re it, Billy,” Jessica said. “We made it through.”
“I’m sorry, Simon,” Billy sighed.
His eyes teared up and I hugged him.
Damned if I didn’t cry too.
***
We stayed with Billy that night. We cried about our friends that we lost. We talked about what went wrong, but more than anything, we were happy to be alive. We decided to leave the next morning. Billy had family coming to visit and we didn’t want to be in the way. I wanted to see my own kids and now that I knew that Billy was alright, I felt like I could do that.
“We’re taking off, Billy,” I said. I shook his hand and his grip was strong. He’d make a full recovery. I cornered one of his doctors and got the diagnosis. I was glad to hear it.
“Love you, Billy,” Jessica said and hugged him. Billy gave me a wiseass smile over her shoulder and then the finger which I graciously returned.
“Call you soon, Agent Bender,” I said as we walked out.
“Take your time, Simon,” Billy said and waved at us.
Jessica and I walked to the hospital elevators and pressed the button to go down. She looked over at me.
“He’s going to be okay, you know?
“I know.”
“And so are we.”
“I know,” I said and kissed her.
I fished a set of car keys from my pocket. Sinclair had arranged a Towncar for us and had an agent drop off the keys. Jessica had made a reservation at a local hotel. I couldn’t bear the thought of going home. Not yet. I wasn’t ready.
We checked into the hotel and were a little awestruck at the accommodations. Marble floors. Hardwood counters and desks. Brass chandeliers with lights that shone like diamonds. It was breath-taking and felt like such a departure for us.
I walked with Jessica to the elevator and from the elevator to our room. I unlocked the door and we stepped inside. Jessica turned on the light and we looked around the room. We were alone at last. Alone for the first time since before the bridge attack.
Jessica reached for me, put her arms around my neck and buried her face in my chest and cried. And I let her. We cried together, just standing there, grateful to have one another. After all that could have gone wrong, we had one another.
“I love you,” she said at last. She looked up at me and I kissed away her tears before softly kissing her lips.
“I love you, Jess.”
We ordered room service. I think we got one of everything. We ate
until we were stuffed. Content and full.
We turned out the lights and slipped into bed together, her on her side, me on mine. We met in the middle and the touch of her was startling, exciting, raising goose bumps on my arms.
I slipped an arm around her and pulled her close to me. Our lips met and in the cool air, Jessica felt as if she were on fire. The heat of her skin consumed me and I kissed her more deeply, my fingers caressing her cheek. I ran my hand through her hair and cradled the nape of her neck.
She took my hand then and kissed it, my fingertips, my palm, then pressed my hand against the bare skin of her breast. Her back arched to meet my touch and so I let my fingers trace tight little circles around her nipple.
Jess was teaching me and I was willing to be her student. We had the time and were more than willing to explore for as long as we were allowed.
She rolled onto her back and pulled me over her. I could feel the heat from her sex and covered it with my hand. Her hips lifted and her legs, shaven smooth, parted and her sex opened to my touch.
Jess kissed me deeply as I touched her for the first time in what seemed like forever. I caressed her gently, parting her, feeling the warmth of her, the slick welcoming desire that led up to her clitoris, already aching to be touched. I touched her then, the way that I remembered that she liked and her breathing became harsher, her hand covered mine and forced it onto her a little harder than I had. Her legs opened a bit wider and she whispered my name.
I kissed her exposed nipple and she gasped, then ground her hips in slow tight little circles as I touched her. Her nipple stiffened and I sucked on it gently, then licked around it, teasing.
I ran my fingers along the length of Jess’ sex again and again, not quickly, not yet. I could feel her desire for me build, feel her open and yearning for me. She whispered it in my ear and told me how much she wanted me. Her hand covered mine again and our fingers intertwined and she showed me what she wanted. She was kind and giving as a teacher, not chiding. She encouraged me as I discovered her secrets, softly correcting when I was not.
She spared nothing, shared everything. I could feel her breath quicken and she reached and pulled my upper arm closer to her. I did what she asked and watched her face, her eyebrows arch, eyes close, her chest heaving, nipples pushing upward with each rocking movement. She reached above her and clutched a pillow. Her feet pulled up under her and planted firmly on the mattress. Her hips grinding hard, faster, faster, her desire and ecstasy running together until her climax was upon her. She pulled at me then, pulling me down over her and buried her head in my chest. She came with a shuddering tremble, her gasping breaths barely covered in the flesh of my shoulder as she clutched it to her, fingernails biting in. I watched her face during that time and she never looked more beautiful. I stayed with her until it seemed time to give room and then I rolled back.
We lay there like that for a moment and I listened to her breathe. She rolled to me then and swung her leg over mine until she straddled me. She was lying on top of me, her breasts pressed against my chest in gorgeous mounds of flesh. Her hair hung down around my face and she smiled a wicked little grin at me.
“You’re going to wake the other guests,” I whispered.
She chuckled in a deep throaty laugh that made me want her even more and she shook her head.
“Mm-mm,” she said softly, “You are.”
She rolled her hips back until the tip of my cock dipped inside of her. She was hot and wet and inviting and before I could move she did again, deeper this time, taking in half the length of me. I groaned and that made her laugh quietly.
“Shh,” she said, pressing a finger to my lips. I obeyed, but what she was doing didn’t exactly make silence an easy rule to comply with.
She pushed her hips back and placed her hands on my chest, lifting herself up and ground her pelvis around, driving my cock into her, exploring all of her in a long, slow sensuous gyration that was enough to drive a man mad. Her breasts were pressed together between her arms, so I lifted my head and suckled her nipples making her gasp and press me back into the bed.
She sat back and lifted her hair up off her shoulders, and in doing so made her breasts lift as well, teasing me, taunting me and then she was pounding down onto me again, lifting and falling, lifting and falling, burying my cock inside her. Our breathing had roughened, but we struggled to be quiet together. Jessica was lost in the moment, swiveling her hips then pumping back, impaling herself onto me. My hands had fallen to cradle her ass, but I could hardly take the lovely torture any more.
I cupped her breasts in my hands and she covered my hands with her own. She leaned forward then and kissed me again, her mouth hot with desire, her lips kissing and pulling, gently biting my bottom lip, driving me onward. The taste of her tongue was enough to vanquish me where I lay.
We finished together, not with the proverbial bang but with a whimper, my head buried in the crook of her neck as my cock pulsed inside her. At last, I bit her shoulder lightly and she cursed softly but it was more compliment than condemnation.
Afterward we stayed in bed together, awake and staring at the ceiling, not really for the ceiling’s sake, but out of an exhaustion born from a tension finally released. If we had our way, we’d fuck like rabbits for days on end until we couldn’t bear it any more and finally had to go out for food.
“You okay?” Jessica asked.
“No,” I groaned with a laugh.
“What’s wrong?”
“I… missed that,” I said. “Missed you, truth be told. But that was… nice.”
“Mmmm,” she purred and put her head on my chest.
We stayed like that in each other’s arms, sharing loving caresses and running fingernails over each other and talking… talking about nothing, about everything. About life after all this. We’d be together for quite a while we agreed. We connected in ways that just felt right and there was no argument about that.
“What are you thinking?” she finally asked me.
“Ohh, the four deadliest words in the English language,” I replied.
“Right after ‘Whose panties are these?’” She answered without missing a beat.
I laughed at that and she laughed with me.
“True,” I agreed.
“No, seriously,” she prompted.
“I think that after we visit with the kids, I want to go back to Virginia,” I said. “And tie up some loose ends.”
“Yeah?” she asked.
Her question was innocent enough, but I understood her meaning. She was asking me if it was work or not. It made sense from her perspective.
“Personal stuff,” I said. “Well… family stuff. Our family.”
I pulled her closer to me and kissed her. She was part of my family and we were glad to have it that way, no recriminations, no second thoughts. It was what it was and that was enough.
But still, I had to put some last thoughts to rest.
***
Nancy McNally’s funeral was the next day. We knew her as Nan. She had been a friend when I didn’t deserve one, but needed one more than anything else. Nan’s funeral was an eclectic event. Her friends and family came in a both industrial goth attire and conservative business suits.
Director Sinclair had seen to it that she was recognized by an honor guard, a rare tribute for a civilian, but one that Nan earned nonetheless.
Jessica and I parked a distance away and stood under a tree, watching the funeral from a distance. We wore sunglasses to guard against the sun.
“You doing okay?” Jess asked.
“Yep.”
“When are Geoff and Ron’s funerals?” she asked.
“Couple days. Their bodies were shipped to their families,” I shook my head.
“Do you want to go to their funerals?” she asked, more cautious this time.
I sighed.
“I wouldn’t feel right about it. Being there,” I said.
“They made their choice, Simon,” Jess reminded me.
“Their families didn’t,” I said. “That’s what this is about. The family.”
“Then why are we here at this one?” Jess asked, her voice quieter.
“Because Nan didn’t choose this life.”
We stood in silence as the pastor finished the graveside service. The family began to disperse, talking amongst themselves.
“Do you want to go over? Pay respects?”
“She knows,” I replied. “I don’t deserve to be there. To explain it to the family. I belong here. Let them grieve. I’ve been in their shoes. Let them have the time to grieve.”
We stood in silence for a moment. The air cool. A soft breeze blew.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Where to?” she asked.
“Let’s go see the kids.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Family. It’s what holds us together as a country, as a society, as a people. In a time where so much is done either intentionally or by neglect to destroy the family, it’s still the one thing that rings so true, that you can hold so dear.
I’ve known men in times of war that have fought to the death to defend their families. They’ve trekked thousands of miles to foreign lands to fight for the freedom of their families back home. I’ve always honored that, respected it. But I never thought I’d be recruited into a conflict in my own country to defend my family.
My father may not have seen it when I was a child, but because of his upbringing, I see it now. And to be honest, I think he sees it in me and so he too values family and understands why I do what I do.
In the end, setting all geopolitical motives aside, sometimes it comes down to protecting your family. I don’t think of myself as a complex man, but I can understand that. I can understand protecting your family at all costs, as long as your service doesn’t destroy the very family you’re endeavoring to protect.
I had been gone from my family, separating myself in an attempt to protect them, but now that the bloodshed was over, I needed to make things right with them.
We crossed the Wisconsin border early in the day and continued on through downtown Milwaukee. Traffic wasn’t bad at mid-day. I saw the signs for Madison and knew that I’d need to visit my father soon at his place in Waukesha, but not today. We continued on up past Mequon and Cedarburg and Oshkosh and Appleton.