Coda? (Mercenaries Book 4)

by Tony Lavely

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Let’s try this then: why are you here?”

  Still facing La Défense, she heard him breathe, but nothing followed it. Her arm jostled as he pushed away from the wall and strode to the outer edge of the roof. For a minute, he leaned, looking the same way she was. She saw his shoulders curl in, then straighten. He stood then, and turned to face her. The sun was almost in his face, she thought she could see tears—or something—on his cheeks.

  Wow! Don’t know about that. Mike said… but he didn’t say obsessed.

  A small kid, well bundled against the wind, ran by just as Devon moved; the two collided, the child bouncing off. Devon hurried to help him up and apologize. “Sorry. I wasn’t looking,” he told the boy.

  As he ran off, Devon continued slowly until he stood before Beckie. Before, but well away. Making sure he doesn’t violate my space. She leaned forward and took his hands in hers. “Look, Devon, this is gonna be a wasted trip if you can’t talk to me. Mike’s told me what he thinks, but that’s him, not you. I want to hear you; I can listen to him anytime I want.” She pulled him a step closer, still outside her personal zone. “Tell me why you’re here. I’m sure it wasn’t to rescue me and Solène.”

  He let go of her left hand so he could rub his face. He swept his hair back out of his face. “It’s not easy—”

  “It fucking well should be! Telling someone their lover, their mate, their son or daughter is injured or dead; that’s not easy! This isn’t that, it’s a little uncomfortable. But you, you run twenty-six miles, more. You operate a business; you talk to customers, vendors, bankers. Those could be hard. But this… Buckle down and say what’s on your mind. Otherwise, we’ll go back down and take a cab to the hotel, and you can fly back home.”

  His face was white, even his lips, and Beckie didn’t think it was just the cold. His hair blew over his face again and she reached up to hold it back. Is he even breathing? Must be; he’s not falling down.

  Devon swallowed, then again. He breathed, twice. “I love you, Beckie. I have since, well, since third grade, but serious, no-one-else-for-me love, since the Prom.”

  Damn! Fuck! Mike was right! Why’d he have to be right this time?

  He let go her hand, pushed the other away from his hair. “I can go away now, but, if I…”

  What do I say? The baby kicked. Just what I need! She laughed. Oh that’s wrong, he’s gonna think…

  “Devon… I’m not sure…” The baby kicked again, hard this time. “Ow! Sorry. The baby. It’s not a surprise that I’m pregnant?”

  “Not likely, especially after seeing you with your shirt plastered to you yesterday. But Lissa made sure to tell me, in case it would bother me. It doesn’t, at all.”

  Okay, I have to tell him. Right off, no beating ‘round the bush. She took a deep breath, steeled herself. “Devon, I’m not in love with you. I loved Ian since I met him, when I was fifteen. Some people thought that was weird, or like Stockholm Syndrome, but I never thought that. He was the guy I wanted to spend my life with. To help… to love.” She wiped her eyes, leaking now. “I liked you a lot all the way through school, and I enjoyed the prom. I still like you. Everything I’ve heard… you’re a really nice guy and I’m honored to know you.” She sighed. “But I don’t love you.”

  He reached for her hand again; after a second, she held it to him. “I’ll settle for like.”

  Beckie couldn’t move for a second. It was more than she expected. More than he should do. Devon should be out finding a girl for him. Not one who falls into… into shit every time she turns around… who kills the man she loves!

  “I’ll wait,” he said, barely louder than the wind in her ears. Or was that her blood, rushing through her veins, she heard so clearly?

  “You can’t, Dev. That’s not how you should be spending your life.”

  He didn’t move an inch, but somehow, she felt closer to him. “I’ll bet it’s really nice here in May or June. Not too warm, but warmer than this.” He swept the area with a casual gaze. “I’m sure there’s one of those ‘boulangeries’ close by. Let’s grab a coffee or hot chocolate, okay?” He reached for her arm, pulled her a little closer. “Okay?”

  “In a minute; I’m not cold yet. But I am serious; this… waiting around for me… it’s wrong for you. I know it!”

  “How can it be wrong, Beckie? I’ve been beside myself since Mike said you lost Ian. Tortured, kinda, about your loss, and at the same time thinking, you’ve gotta talk to her. Let her know how you feel. Maybe she’ll say get out of my life… I never want to see you again. But… maybe she won’t. But it’s too soon… Yeah, for anything but telling her. But if I don’t say something, how will she ever know?” He turned his head up, then back to meet her eyes, “Wow. Stream of consciousness much?”

  Beckie didn’t wait; she stepped close, wrapping her arms around him.

  “You’ve said it, now. Thank you. But you deserve someone who doesn’t screw up all the time, who’s not made a career choice that might end… ‘badly,’ as one of my friends said. A girl who can’t say I love you… Can’t even say I will love you…”

  “Do I? Doesn’t matter. May I hug you back?” Oh yeah, his arms are at his sides. He is really nice. Maybe I could… But no! She nodded. “Anyway…” He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her even closer. Damn! It feels good. Almost like I remember… “I don’t want the girl I deserve, then. You’re the woman I’m set on.” He took a breath, Beckie could feel his torso press her breasts flat and she thought it might be uncomfortable, but it wasn’t, even with her sensitive mammaries. “Look— Was that the baby just kicked me? Mad, huh?”

  Beckie giggled into his jacket. “No. He kicks hard when he’s uncomfortable. That wasn’t hard. If I were to guess, he’s saying ‘hi’ ’cause, you know, you haven’t been introduced, formally.”

  “A boy, then?”

  She leaned away and used both her hands to rub the bump where Ian’s child grew. She felt a little wiggle. “Don’t know. It’s just how I think about him. I don’t like thinking, you know, ‘it,’ so I think ‘him.’ I’ll wait til March to find out for sure. Happy and healthy, that’s all I want.”

  She felt Devon move; the up and down motion implied his agreement. Then, he said, “Look, I saw you and Ian at Mike’s graduation. I saw him at yours, too, but… I didn’t realize, then. But, it was clear, to me at least, that you two were… Fuck! Ooops!” She leaned back; his blush colored his face and neck. “I’m sorry for—”

  “The baaad word? Don’t worry. It’s like my fourth most popular word. Ask Amy. Or Solène. Even Mike.”

  “Oh. Okay, but still…”

  “Don’t use it, use it, it’s all the same to me. Used that way, it’s just a word.”

  “Okay.” His deep breath crushed her again. Admit it, Beck, he doesn’t feel that bad. “Anyway, you two belonged together. You moved together, acted like you knew what the other one would do or say. Jealous does not begin to describe my feelings that day.

  “That’s when I started running. That night after I left Mike’s party, I strapped on my old worn-out shoes and ran. I made it, like, twelve miles before I had to stop and call someone to take me home. My feet were bleeding, my muscles were cramped; it was all I could do to lay there for the hour it took them.” He squeezed, just a little. “I wouldn’t let them take me to a hospital; wasn’t that bad off. But I learned to run after that. Made my first marathon distance six months later; competed after ten months. I started the company before the six months ended; I kept trying to get information and trainers and gear, and I said why isn’t this all in one place? So that’s what I did… to keep my mind off you and Ian and…”

  “Why’d you keep in touch with Mike? Isn’t that like, salt in the wound, sorta?”

  “Not at all! He and I go back to… I guess his freshman year… when you two disappeared to Hawaii? We were both on the wrestling team, and when he didn’t show for that meet, I got the opponent he would have
drawn. Fifteen second pin and we lost the meet. He got razzed pretty well about that, and undertook to make sure I learned how to wrestle… so it wouldn’t happen again. We were close friends by the end of the year, and we’ve kept in touch.”

  “Hmm.” You know, Beck, if you want more proof that you’re attractive… She could feel Devon’s interest manifest physically about where the baby bump pushed against him. Or maybe you should back off… easily, unless embarrassing him is top of the list. It’s not! she demanded, and leaned back again, this time easing away from the contact with his body.

  Her motivation must have been clear to him; he colored once again—Going for a world record, Beck?—and mumbled something like, “Sorry.”

  Deciding that she could say nothing that would benefit either of them, she just reached up to brush his cheek.

  After a few moments, his discomfort spread to her. She leaned back against the wall, staring along the Avenue de la Grande Armée the two and a half miles to the arch at La Défense. What am I doing? She clenched her fists. I’m encouraging him… He’s nice, but… I’m really confused. People die around me…

  “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

  “Huh?”

  Devon reached to wipe her cheeks. Oh, God, I’m crying… All gone to hell…

  Heedless of any reaction he might have, she dragged him back into the embrace, crushing herself against him. “I’m so screwed up, Devon,” she whispered into his chest. “And so scared. I got scared before Ian… died… But then, he was there to make sure I wouldn’t go off the tracks, that… He gave me the support I needed. Since that day, I’ve kinda been running ‘open loop,’ as they said in my Control Theory classes, no feedback. Amy’s the best, ‘cause of our history; she’s unafraid of me, like Ian was. But her experience… she doesn’t have enough, yet, to always give the right feedback.

  “Willie and the others are too hung up on me as boss, I think; they don’t want to tell me when I’m being stupid or whatever. At least, that’s the feeling I get from them, and I’m not going to make up something just to test them.” She reached up to wipe her nose… So I don’t get snot all over his shirt! “It’s what Willie was telling me in our first meeting. He said ‘stabilizing influence,’ I think, but this is what he meant.” Another wipe. “I don’t know what to do, but I can’t let people down, either. They expect answers… good answers! They deserve them.” Her voice faded even more as she finished. “I’m scared I’ll screw them up and lose them.”

  Devon said nothing. He had one hand in the small of her back; he clutched her even closer. Hs other hand was behind her head, stroking her hair.

  After several minutes of silence and ragged breathing, she felt him tip her head back, felt his lips on her cheeks, kissing the tear tracks away.

  “Okay,” she heard in his soft voice. “I have a suggestion that might suit us both. Can you listen to the whole thing before answering?”

  It’d be easier if he didn’t feel so damn good. She put the feel of his body against hers away again, back in that little cubbyhole in her mind she could close off. As she nodded, she said, “Yes.”

  “It wasn’t intentional, but my apartment lease in Miami’s up. If I come to live at the Nest, I guess it is, I can give you someone who’s independent but committed to you to bounce ideas off of; someone who will listen and advise, not as a mercenary, but from a… business perspective. An outside… influence, maybe?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Hush. You said you’d listen through.” He paused, but Beckie pushed her face back into his shirt and listened. “I can run ninety-five percent of my business anywhere there’s internet. I was paying twenty-five hundred a month rent; I can afford to pay you the same. If you have runners on your team, I can mentor them. Or operate a gym, if you don’t have someone doing that already. No charge for those things.

  “Let me make it clear. Along with being in love with you, I find you extraordinarily attractive. Physically. And unless you bring it up again, that’s the last I’ll say about it. And I will do nothing about it, no matter what, without an explicit invitation.

  “Similarly, I’ll not be chasing any of your team around. Solène is safe. From me, anyway.” He chuckled.

  Beckie didn’t join his laugh. Solène didn’t interest him anyway; she’s too young and he’s too focused on me. Will having him around serve the purpose? Could he be able to do what he says? Both things? And how about me? What will having him around twenty-four, seven do to me? To the others, like Shalin or Amy or Willie? Be serious, Beck; you know the answer to those—

  He said softly, “How long will you wait?”

  Using the wall behind her for leverage, she pushed him away. How can he ask that? Then she looked up to see shock in his expression. He’s not asking for that answer… So… “I don’t understand.”

  “South Africa. How long…”

  She heard nothing after “long;” her mind went south. South to the Drakensberg Wilderness. In a moment, she’d flashed through the memories of the tramp through the woods and all that had occurred. Her error. Ian’s head on her lap. She realized what Devon meant: how long before you avenge Ian and Kevin? Now the meetings with Beth, the ten o’clocks with Willie hoping for news in Tjaart’s reports rolled through. He doesn’t know. How could he?

  She gently pushed him further away. “You wouldn’t know, but we took the first step to finding their killers the day it happened. Not that we discovered anything then or since, but no one on the team has given up finding them. Specifically, I haven’t given up on finding their killers.”

  “You found nothing?”

  “Not a damn thing.” She decided he didn’t need to know the details.

  “Your face… your expression… I guess you’ve remembered what they say about revenge?”

  She made a face at him. Amy’s line about two graves didn’t really fit.

  “‘Revenge is a dish—”

  “Oh, yeah! I remember. Not to worry; there are a bunch of us to keep everyone’s emotions in check. Should we get that far.” After a minute contemplating, she straightened and said, “Let’s get that coffee, okay?”

  He nodded. “I remember we passed a couple of Starbucks on the way up here.”

  “That’d be fine.”

  Their walk was quiet until Devon said, “I guess it’s most of the way back. Sorry.”

  “No problem. We had to get back, anyway.”

  A couple of minutes later, Devon pointed across the street at the Starbucks sign. “We can even go back to the hotel on the Metro,” he said, pointing at the entrance a few feet further on.

  Like I care about that. “It’s nice enough to sit outside.”

  With a hot chocolate, Beckie sat at the small circular table just outside the Starbucks door. Devon followed a moment later.

  They exchanged uninspired comments about the drinks, and the foolishness of coming to Paris to get a cafe au lait or chocolat chaud in a Starbucks, but eventually, Beckie set her cup down, put her hands in her lap and looked directly into Devon’s eyes. She took a deep breath.

  Before she could speak, Devon said, “It’s no, I guess.”

  Work harder at concealing your feelings, Beck. “Yeah, it is. I don’t believe your idea will work. Wait until I’m finished, please,” she said as he drew himself up. “Your experience is with business, and with runners. I don’t see that as a class, runners have a lot in common with mercenaries and ‘soldiers of fortune.’ I’m impressed by what you’ve done, but having it carry over to make you an effective advisor… I don’t see that. Deciding you have to kill a friend because you can’t keep them safe…” He blanched.

  “Of course,” she continued, “the bigger issue is that I don’t have the feelings for you that you have for me. Creating a situation where we are forced to associate in an attempt to create those feelings… from a whole cloth, as Mom used to say, seems like it could end with us hating each other at least as easily as anything else.”


  “You won’t even try it? For a month or so?”

  Not gonna guilt me, boy. “No.” She reached across to place her hand atop his, without holding. “What I want is for you to head off to your real world and find the girl there…” She took her hand back. “I can’t tell you how silly it is to think there’s only one girl you can fall for. Even if you restrict yourself to the United States, there’s almost 330 million people. Half are girls. Reduce for age and sexual preference and married… I’ll bet there are still almost ten million eligible girls. I’m pretty sure you can find one more, if you put your mind to it.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m damned sure I’m not unique in any positive way.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I’m going to put on my big girl pants and solve my problems. You should do the same.” She giggled. “Sorta.”

  Epilogue

  MARYAM SHOVED THE HANDHELD CAMERA into Achmed’s hand.

  “Use this one. Picture’s not as good,” she said in French.

  “Hmff. Does that even matter?”

  “It may.” She watched as he eased up to the viewing port in the wall of the cell. In the fold-out display screen, she could see the two men sitting; they appeared to be chatting. “We’ll remove the sound, just get the picture.”

  After a couple of minutes, she tapped his arm. “Enough. Let me have it.” She reviewed the video. “Good. This will work just fine.”

  End of Coda?

  Beckie and Ian’s story continues in

  Discoveries

  Read the excerpt here

  Appendices

  The Nest

  THE NEST IS A FICTITIOUS archipelago sited in the Commonwealth of the Bahamas. It is described by the map in the front matter, as well as here.

  Cartography based on “Eastern Caribbean.” 21.680164° N and 73.463645° W. Google Earth. Image date not given. Accessed April 7, 2013.