by K Alexander
"Not right now. I want to ask you something."
Raising her eyes at the serious tone of voice Claire walks around and sits on the other side of the bed, crossing her legs as she pulls a piece off the bagel and puts it into her mouth. The soldier rolls around to look at her, waiting until she's finished chewing before she speaks.
"Why are you still here, Claire?"
The blonde's fingers still on the delicacy and she stares at the covers in front of her blindly. "Did you really want me to go?"
Ryan sits up, pulling the blanket higher irritably as it shifts down to reveal her bare torso. "You know that's not the issue here. Let's not play games."
Heaving a sigh Claire looks away, a laconic smile on her lips as she absentmindedly plucks a piece off the pastry. Popping it into her mouth she chews it reflectively and then returns her gaze to Ryan. Her eyes are far away and, if the soldier is not mistaken, slightly confused. "You're right. I'm sorry."
"You say that a lot, do you realize? Don't be sorry, Claire, just tell me what's going on."
"I don't know." Her expression is open and honest. "I don't know, Ryan. I know I should have run when I had the chance. I know I should have pointed the gun at you when I had the chance. I know all of those things, but why I didn't… that part I don't know."
"I thought that therapists knew everything about this kind of thing." She smiles slightly to show that she is teasing. "Okay. I'm not going to make you go, Claire, but in the interest of honesty I have to tell you that my motives for keeping you around are less than stellar."
"Wow." The blonde raises her eyebrows. "That certainly is honest."
Ryan shrugs. "I'm not much of a liar. As long as I have you with me, whoever is tracking me should be just that little more cautious. They probably won't want to risk hurting a civilian." She fixes her fierce eyes on Claire. "I want you to understand that. I enjoy your company, and I think you are a strong and lovely person, but apart from that - you are also a means to an end."
"All right." The blonde picks at the pastry, then, realizing what she is doing, she stops moving her fingers. "I accept that you have your reasons for wanting me around, however detrimental to me they may be. I'm not going to blame you for my own choices. I just need a little bit of time to know why I made them."
Ryan slides down and puts her head on the pillow, studying the ceiling. "Time may be the one thing I can't offer. Things are going to be happening soon."
"I realize that, too." Stretching out on the bed Claire curls up on her side, propping her head in her hand as she looks at Ryan. "Can I take my chances? Just for this moment?"
"If that's what you want." She stops speaking as Claire breaks off a piece of bagel and stuffs it into her mouth unceremoniously, and chews with an eyebrow raised until she can swallow. "Hey! What was that for?"
Smiling innocently the doctor breaks off another piece. "Open your mouth." When the soldier obeys she eyes her white teeth. "Don't bite me." She slots the piece into Ryan's waiting mouth, suddenly hyper-conscious of her fingers brushing against the woman's lips, and pulls her hand away quickly, putting the rest of the bagel on the side table simply so that she can turn her face away for a while.
When she looks back Ryan is watching her silently. "You need some sleep too."
"I don't think… No, I'm fine."
"I'm the only one allowed to say that, Claire. Come on. Get in." Her eyes soften. "Don't be nervous. I won't touch you, I promise." For emphasis she pokes her bandaged hands out of the blanket and wiggles her fingers stiffly. Smiling slightly at the silly motion Claire shakes her head.
"I'm not scared of you, Ryan. That's not it. I… " She breaks off helplessly, and when she looks up her eyes are full of tears. Unmindful of her naked body Ryan sits up and reaches over, pulling the blonde to her with surprisingly gentle arms. At first Claire stiffens, and then her body sags as she presses her face into the hollow at Ryan's shoulder. It is warm and silky, and then wet as her tears begin to coat it. When she sniffs and tries to pull back the soldier's arms tighten around her and fingertips stroke her back gently.
"Stop fighting, Claire." She begins to rock her tenderly in her arms. "You've been in pain for a horribly long time. Let it go. I'll catch you."
It is only the second time she really cries, and it should embarrass her, this sobbing on the shoulder of a woman she's only met three days ago under appalling circumstances, but somehow the arms around her and the slow heartbeat under her ear comfort her in a way she can't describe. She sobs until she gradually regains control over her breathing and then she pulls back, slowly becoming aware of the warm body against hers and the way in which her arms are wrapped around Ryan's bare shoulders. Loosening her grip the soldier lets her go. To her mortification her eyes slip down to Ryan's breasts, and when her face begins to flush the other woman lays a finger under her chin and lifts her face.
"Don't be embarrassed. There's no harm in letting somebody help you once in a while."
Smiling dimly at the repetition of her own words she nods, deciding to leave the soldier under a mistaken impression about her blushing rather than mortify herself even more by revealing the real reason. "Okay. Can we go to sleep now?"
Ryan smiles that almost-smile of hers. "Okay." She is caught off-guard when Claire reaches down and pulls her shirt over her head without warning. "Sorry." Her eyes are twinkling as she turns her head away. "That is a nice bra, by the way."
Blowing her a raspberry the blonde slips out of her jeans, wondering whether she should keep her underwear on before she discards it with a shrug and slips under the covers. The soldier is on her side, turned towards the bed table, and somehow Claire thinks that she's lying exactly that way because it leaves a vast amount of space on her side, making sure that they won't touch. Curling up she puts her left hand under her pillow, pulling her right arm close to her chest. When Ryan puts off the bedside lamp she starts. "Um… "
"What's wrong?"
"Would you mind if I touch you, Ryan?"
"What?" When the blonde reaches out with her right hand and just barely touches her fingertips against Ryan's shoulder blade, the soldier hums in her throat. "That's fine."
In the darkness Claire smiles sadly. "It took two weeks to break you, a needle to break Doctor Chavez, and just a few words to break me."
"Someone like you should never have been broken in the first place." The muscles under Claire's fingertips shift as Ryan settles. "Go to sleep now."
9.
Sierra pulls up in Vice-Admiral Victor Banks' driveway, dialing a number from memory as Alpha and the other two men slip into the back to suit up.
"Turner."
"We're at Banks' house, about to clean up." He motions sharply with two fingers and the other men move stealthily around the back of the house. "I'll keep you updated."
"Fine." The phone clicks. Drawing his own pistol with its long fitted silencer he glances around, checking for bystanders before he gets out of the van. The street is empty. When he reaches the back door one of the men has already put his hand though the broken windowpane and opened the kitchen door quietly. They spread out, their backs pressed against the walls as they steal down the corridor. At the first door Alpha breaks in.
"He's in here."
His voice is muffled and low. They secure the rest of the house carefully before they return to the first bedroom where Alpha is waiting. Inside, Victor Banks is lying on his side on the bed, the right side of his face completely covered in blood. His hands and feet are tied tightly. Studying him expressionlessly Sierra approaches, but when he reaches out his hand to the pulse point in the man's neck, Banks opens one gray blood-encrusted eye and peers up at him warily. Even the normally calm Alpha almost steps back before he composes himself. Clearing his throat arduously Banks speaks, his voice gravelly.
"You took your time."
"Vice-Admiral Banks." Sierra nods before he turns to Alpha and speaks to him in a low voice. Then he takes the phone from his pocket and steps into
the hallway, hitting the redial button. When the man on the other side answers he speaks curtly.
"Banks is still alive…. No. Just blunt force trauma to the head… Done."
He steps up to the tall man in black at the doorway. "Tango. Sweep the study." Then he returns to the bedroom where Banks is lying. The Vice-Admiral is frowning, repeating his request that Alpha untie him in a perturbed tone of voice, when Sierra draws his pistol and shoots him in the head.
------ About two hours later the men are on their way to Great Falls. Alpha is driving and Sierra takes the moment to slip the small flat device out of the pouch at his waist and switch it on. He studies the movement on the screen without expression before he hits redial on his mobile phone.
"Turner."
"She's off-course on 89 just past Belt, going south."
"Hmm." The General ponders for a moment. Interesting. Banks gave her something other than what they had anticipated him to. "Stay on course to Helena. She'll be there soon - you be there first."
"Isn't there one of your guys in Neihart or White Sulphur?"
"Anthony Chavez." Colonel Turner has never liked him much. "It's not important. By the time you get there she's on her way to Helena and then you're behind. Move your ass, Mahoney."
"Fine."
"And Mahoney, don't keep flipping that fucking thing on and off. If she's driving it could cause a problem, and I don't want her to go anywhere just yet. Understood?"
"Understood." Sierra kills the call. In silent disapproval of Turner's attitude he leaves the signal on for a little longer than necessary, and when he finally flicks the level off he is smiling. Or at least, he is on the inside.
The drive takes them over three hours - Alpha is a meticulous driver and does not rush, considering that they are already ahead of the prey. In Helena they fuel up and hang around, frustrated by the lack of activity and their inability to relax. When the sun begins to set they book into a grubby motel on the outskirts of the city. Tango, easily bored, suggests that they go to the bar for a game of pool. It is still early and they make their way to the dark dusky room, perching on the uncomfortable red vinyl seats as Tango checks out cues and racks the balls. The barman eyes them sullenly. He imagined it to be his lucky day, four big men who look like they can each put away a barrel of beer coming in, and then they order soft drinks. Soft drinks. For god's sake. He spits on the floor and wonders if they're gay.
While Alpha breaks forcefully and Tango looks on with interest, Sierra keeps an eye on the device that he has since placed on the counter. In the course of two hours he switches it on seven times, his eyes focused, and just before half past ten he stands up and beckons the other three men. He does not speak within hearing distance of the barman who is glaring at them for reasons beyond his comprehension or interest, but starts walking towards their rooms, knowing they will all be beside him without prompting.
"We're leaving for White Sulphur Springs."
"All right." It's Alpha, the tractable one. "Didn't Turner tell us to stay in Helena?"
"Yes. The target hasn't moved for six hours, maybe more. Either there's a problem, in which case we need to be there now, or she's staying the night, in which case I want to be tight on her tail when she leaves. I'm not sure Turner has as much of a handle on this situation as he thinks he does."
"If she's coming to Helena eventually why don't we just wait for her here?" When Bravo speaks it always takes them by surprise.
"Because I don't lay bets on eventually. She's not stupid. Something's happening and we're not in on it. Yet." Sierra shoots Bravo a sarcastic glance. "What's the problem? Missing your beauty sleep?"
"No."
"Good, because you're driving. Alpha goes like an old lady. Let's pack it up and get on the road."
------ It is dark when Ryan wakes up abruptly and inexplicably. Something has caught her attention, and she is not sure what - and that is her least favorite scenario. She lies perfectly still and listens, alert to the sounds around her, from the irritating muffled dripping in the bathroom to the slight hitch in Claire's breath as she shifts in her sleep. There is something just beyond her awareness, niggling at her.
Carefully she rolls over, annoyed to find remnants of her headache still hanging around, and slips from under the blanket, putting her feet softly on the carpet. Keeping still she closes her eyes and holds her breath for a few seconds, and then exhales slowly. The threat is not immediate, but she is not about to take any chances. She rises, stretching her spine gracefully in the process, before she edges around the bed, placing her feet carefully and precisely. At the foot of it she stands still, turning her head towards the bathroom door. Nothing. She turns her head to her right, towards where she knows the window and the chair are. Moving to the window she slides a finger between the curtains and peers out. It is a dark night, pitch black with no moon, and she can barely make out anything in the alley below. No movement there. When she turns back she stops in front of the chair and frowns. Reaching out, she rifles through the clothing by touch alone, singling out her cargo pants and sliding her fingers into the pockets. She scowls as she pulls out the sticky DEX chip, hot to the touch, and lifts it up to her left ear. It is not her imagination at all - the electronic device appears to be humming at a low frequency.
And then it stops.
------
Claire is in the middle of a dream when a hand touches her shoulder.
"Claire…"
"No!" She sits bolt upright, her breath catching in her throat, and finds Ryan crouched at the side of the bed, her eyes alert.
"Shh. I'm sorry. You wouldn't wake up." The soldier rises, and Claire notes that she's fully clothed. "You have to get dressed."
"What?" Involuntarily she yawns and wipes her eyes. "What's the time?"
"About a quarter to one." Ryan tosses her clothes onto the bed. "Now, Claire."
Still slightly drowsy the doctor gets out of bed before realizing that she is completely naked. Flushing hotly she shoots a quick glance towards the soldier, but Ryan is shoving things into the black bag, her back towards the blonde. Hastily Claire begins to dress.
"What's happening, Ryan?"
The soldier surveys the floor for any forgotten articles before she answers. "The thing… DEX… I think it's been sending out signals throughout the night. We're being tracked. We need to get out of here."
Sitting down Claire slips her feet into the trainers and ties the laces. "If you think they've been tracking you all this time, then what's the difference now?"
"It's the middle of the night and it's gone off twice in an hour. Something feels wrong."
"Where is it now? DEX, I mean."
Ryan pats her pocket.
"Why don't you just dispose of it?"
"I want them to think I still have it." Ryan is impatient. "We have to go."
She opens the hotel door and steps up to the glass window across the hall, glancing down almost cursorily at the parking lot before her posture stiffens. Turning around she motions Claire, who has just come out of the room, back inside. The blonde frowns as she stops in the middle of the room.
"What… ?"
Pressing the bag into her hands Ryan opens the curtains at the window and glances outside before she finds the latch and slides open the window with difficulty, her hands burning with the strain. Striding to the door she closes and locks it before she steps up to Claire and sticks her hand into the bag, pulling out the pistol.
"Fire escape." Her other hand propels the blonde forward. Claire is beginning to feel a slight sensation of dread rising in her throat. Grasping the bag tightly she climbs out of the window onto the metal grid and looks down. It is so dark outside that she has trouble seeing the steps that lead to the level below. Behind her the metal rings out as Ryan swivels her legs out and puts her feet down.
"Get to the ground floor, Claire."
Numbly the doctor begins to climb the stairs down, placing her feet carefully on the narrow metal rungs. She is already on t
he first floor when she realizes that Ryan is not behind her. Glancing upwards she tries to make out the soldier's form on the platform above her.
"Don't stop moving. Go!"
The command is hissed, and as she is about to comply all hell breaks loose. A gunshot sounds from above, and is echoed by another. The crash of breaking glass rings out, and after that the uncanny stillness of the night hangs in the air eerie and thick.
10.
Pressing herself to the wall Claire stares upwards in shock, trying to see anything, and she almost screams when Ryan's lean body suddenly appears in front of her.
The soldier wraps an arm around Claire and presses her taller body close, shielding the blonde as she lifts her right hand and fires upwards. When an answering shot whistles by from behind she holds her breath, waiting until silence settles again before she swings around, propelling Claire towards the steps as she presses her back against the wall.