Body Heat

by Mia Ford

  "Is that why you joined the SEAL's?" Olivia asked. She too spoke in a whisper, not sure what else to say. Clint's voice trembled as he spoke, indicating he was on the verge of tears. She had never seen him so vulnerable.

  "I remember there was this kid in my class who was bragging one day about how if he got good enough marks he would never have to see battle. Like that was a point of honor or something? It was because of that... that was when I realized that I was in the wrong place. The next day I dropped out and joined the SEAL's. At least as a SEAL I can make a difference, a real physical difference. Even if I don't have the title. I've never once regretted my choice either."

  "Never?"

  "No, not never. My only regret was leaving you." He had stopped looking down now, his body turned to face Olivia. There were tears in his eyes and Olivia couldn't think of a single time she had ever seen him cry before. "I made a choice that day, the military over you. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Hopefully... hopefully it's one I won't ever have to make again."

  If there was any doubt as to how Clint felt about Olivia, it was vanquished in that moment. As she watched him, tears near brimming in his eyes, she didn’t know what to say. Or if any words would do. So she said nothing. Instead she walked up to Clint, threw her arms around him and hugged him. And he returned it, holding her in his strong embrace.

  And there they stood for an immeasurable length of time. It may have been seconds. It may have been minutes or even hours. It didn’t matter. She was happy to hold him and clearly, he was more than happy to hold her right back.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Brian was already at the café when Olivia arrived. He was sitting alone, sipping on a cup of coffee, his eyes glancing from left to right. He looked nervous, Olivia thought, like he was the one on trial. That was the first sign that things weren't going to go to plan.

  Her goal was keep the proceedings as casual as she possibly could. Although she was interviewing the young Lieutenant in an official context, she knew how intimidated soldiers could become by these types of proceedings. And although she was after the truth, wanting to keep emotion out of it, she also knew that Brian and Clint were good friends. As such she suggested the cafe, hoping that would alleviate some of the formality.

  But as pointed out, by the way that Brian's knee furiously bobbed up and down as he waited, she guessed that he were as nervous as he would have been had they met in a more offical location. She just hoped it didn't do anything to effect his testimony.

  "Brian Fischer?" She asked as she reached the table.

  "Yes ma'am," he offered, standing up the moment she spoke. Leapt up more like it. He really was nervous.

  "Please, take a seat," she said as she sat down. He followed suit, very quickly sitting down. It was only when he was seated and presumably comfortable that she continued. "So, Mr Fischer, as I'm sure you know I'm here to ask you questions pertaining to the incident that occurred with Clint Reese."

  "Yes ma'am. Lieutenant Commander Randall filled me in."

  "Excellent. This should be nice and simple then. Why don’t we start with how well you know Clint Reese. Just so I can get a sense of your relationship."

  "Oh... well me and Clint we go a little ways back. I actually tried out for the SEAL program the same time he did. Didn't get through obviously. But it was also him that suggested I join the Coast Guard as a rescue swimmer. I was always a good swimmer." Much to Olivia's relief, he seemed to calm down a little as he spoke.

  "So you would say you're good friends?"

  "As good as one can be I suppose." She was certain but she thought she heard him choke up. Maybe it was just her imagination.

  "Excellent. Now, how about you go over that day? Leave nothing out."

  "OK. Ah well... We – that is me and the other guys on the Guard had some drills we needed to run. Just some touch up exercises – that is exercises aimed at touching up some skills if you know what I mean?"

  "I do," Olivia responded, offering him a warm smile. He was getting nervous again, she could tell.

  "We needed to use a submersible and I suggested to Randall – Lieutenant Randall, that we ask the SEAL Vehicle Delivery Team if we could use theirs. Randall – Lieutenant Randall, said that I was going to have to ask, as I knew Clint. So I asked and Clint said it was fine as long as he came along. Just to watch and make sure we treated his vehicle with respect – which is right for him to do."

  "It is," Olivia agreed.

  "Anyway all was fine. We used it like we said and nothing was amiss. It was nearer the end of the day when the other three guys were doing some diving drills. They came up for air and told us they'd found the Japanese sub."

  "And what was the initial response by you? What did you suggest that you and the team do?" She asked.

  It took him a moment to answer, as if he were trying to think of the best way to frame his response. "I said we should call it in. Clint explained to us what it was and I thought maybe a salvage team should come and collect it. But when I suggested that, Clint said – I want to get on the record here that Clint never meant for anything to happen," Brian rushed through. "He just thought that... he thought it would be OK if we took a look first and then maybe, if it seemed possible, we could salvage it ourselves."

  "And then what happened?"

  "Well me and him dove down to take a look. He had a rope with him attached to the rig. We got down there and I guess he thought that it looked safe because he started tying it up with the rope. I swam in to help and..."

  "Go on," Olivia urged.

  "Well the thing – that is the sub, slipped. Next thing I knew my oxygen tank was wedged between it and the rocks. I was stuck. So Clint pulled out a knife, cut me loose and bunnied me back to the surface. Oh bunnying is --"

  "I know what it is," Olivia cut in. She was a bit more short with him on that one than she had intended, but that was only because she was distracted. Unfortunately the story matched the one that Randall had told her. It was one that didn't look good for Clint. "I'm going to ask you something Brian and I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me. Did the submarine look stable when Clint started to secure it? Was there any perceived danger?"

  If Brian had looked nervous before, this time he looked like he might pass out. The amount of sweat poruing from his brow was so much that it looked as if he'd just run a mile. Meanwhile his eyes darted across the cafe like he was looking for an excuse to leave. "Ahhhh...." Was all he could get out.

  "Brian. I need an answer," she pushed.

  "Well... I... at the time I thought it looked a little bit unstable. Plus there were the torpedoes on the side --"

  "What torpedoes?" she cut in. No one had mentioned torpedos to her earlier.

  "The live torpedos. They were half the reason the submarine was caught. If I was being honest... maybe... Maybe it wasn't as safe as it could have been – but that doesn't matter. I mean I got out of there thanks to Clint. He didn't mean for..."

  As Brian rambled on, Olivia stopped paying attention. She felt the blood drain from her face as her heart sank. Whatever way Brian may have tried to spin it, and clearly he was trying to make Clint sound as innocent as possible, it was clear that Clint was as guilty as sin. She knew that he liked to play the hero where he could, but this was something else. In her professional opinion he had put Brian's life in danger. In her professional opinion he needed to be reprimanded.

  Unfortunately her professional opinion wasn't as important to her as it would have been a week ago. If it were anyone else she would have prosecuted without a moments thought. But it wasn't anyone else. It was Clint. And because it was Clint she had no idea what she was going to do.

  "Clint isn't going to get in trouble is he?" Brian asked. She hadn't even realised that he had stopped talking.

  Shaking her head to snap herself back to it, she looked up at Brian. "I'm not sure Brian. I'm really not sure."

  --

  Five minutes later and Olivia was on her way back t
o her lodgings. She barely remembered leaving the café and she wasn't even sure if she had said goodbye to Brian or not. She was far too preoccupied with thoughts of what she was going to do.

  Really she could just do nothing. It would be only too easy for her to conclude that there wasn't enough evidence to prosecute and to leave it at that. But then again...

  Unfortunately Olivia just wasn’t that type of person. She had a career to think of too and she knew coming to that conclusion would make her look weak. And she knew that looking weak was the last thing that she wanted, considering that she was trying to become a Navy SEAL.

  It was thus with a foggy head that she crossed the docks towards where she was staying while in Pearl Harbor. And it was because of this state of mind that she was only vaguely aware of the voice calling out to her as she walked. As she was on the docks, she at first assumed that it was just a sailor or two, cat calling her. So she ignored it. It wasn't until the voice grew louder and more persistent that she finally turned around to see who it was.

  She shouldn't have been surprised to see Lieutenant Randall hurrying toward her. There was a definate skip to his step and she got the distinct impression that he had been waiting for her to finish her meeting with Brian. In fact she was sure of it.

  "Ms Conway, I was hoping I could have a quick word with you?" he asked, pulling up beside her. Olivia chose to keep walking as he did. She had no desire to stand in the middle of the docks and chat where everyone could see them.

  "Should I be recording this conversation?" She asked. She said it half jokingly, but something told her that Randall's sudden appearance wasn't official in nature.

  "There's no need to be like that," he assured her. "I was just made aware that you met with Brian Fischer. I was wondering how the meeting went."

  "I'm afraid that's between me and Brian. You will receive a full report when I finish my investigation." Of course that was what he was after. She wouldn't have been surprised to find out that Randall had tried to coach Brian in his answers too.

  "Listen," he pulled up, indicating for Olivia to follow suit. She really didn't want to but she also wasn't going to be rude and continue walking. "I have a proposition for you."

  "OK," she said curtly.

  "I know what Fischer said to you. I know because he told me what happened and I trust that he told you the same thing. My concern is that you might interpret the evidence a little more... with a little more leniency than others would."

  "Lieutenant Randall, I assure you that I will only interpret the evidence as it is presented. In fact I really don't know what you're implying."

  "OK, OK. I believe you. I do. I just wanted to let you know that I was recently speaking to you C.O. Boothes. We're old buddies, go back quite a way we do. He was telling me about your ah... about your desire to join the Navy SEAL program."

  "Ok..." Olivia replied, starting to understand where he might be going with this.

  "Well like I was saying, me and Boothes go back. Now he wasn't to enthusiastic about you joining the SEAL program. Not too enthusiastic at all. I on the other hand can see the upside to it. In fact I encourage it. And I'm sure that were I to push the case, I could make Boothes see it in the same light. Do you see what I'm saying?"

  "If you're suggesting that I misconstrue the evidence --"

  "All I'm saying is that it would be in your best interests to view the evidence through an unbiased scope. If you do that... well there's no telling what your future holds." He finished by flashing her a most obvious wink and exceptionally sleazy smile. He then patted her on the arm, turned and scurried off before she had a chance to say anything.

  She was glad that he left in fact because she had no idea what she would have said. His words were loud and clear too. He wanted her to convict Clint. If she did so he would recommend her for SEAL training. In effect he was bribing her.

  Usually such an act would repulse Olivia. Usually she would even go so far as to report it. But this time... she had wanted to be a SEAL for the longest time now and despite the help that she was getting from Clint, she never really thought it would be a possibility. But now...

  Even as that thought crossed her mind, her thoughts fell back on Clint and what would happen to him if she did bring him up on charges. They might kick him out of the military all together? For someone like Clint, a dishonorable discharge was the worst thing that could happen.

  She had no idea what to do. The fact that she was even thinking of convicting Clint made her feel ill. But on the one hand a new path was open to her, one she had never expected. On the other, that path would hurt the man she was coming to love. She had never been so confused in her life and as she made her way back to her lodgings, she had no idea what she was going to do.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  It had been three days since Clint had gotten back into Pearl Harbor and taken Olivia on the tour of the USS Arizona. It was probably one of the more vulnerable moments of Clint's life and at the time he wasn't so sure if he had made the right choice in opening up to her like that. But the way that she had hugged and consoled him afterwards alleviated that concern.

  In fact following that date, Clint was blindsided by a sensation that he had never felt before and as such had no idea how to classify it. He went to bed that night feeling as light as a feather and woke up the next morning with the eerie sensation that nothing in the world could hurt him. He knew that day Olivia would be busy, so he spent it in his barracks, with the other SEAL's and although some of them made fun of him when he told them about the date, he didn't care. He actually welcomed it as he relished the sensation of their words bouncing off him. He didn't care what they thought. He only cared what Olivia felt.

  In short, Clint was in love. He just didn't know it.

  What was odd though was that Olivia didn't seek to contact him that night. He assumed that her investigation was taking longer than she had predicted and was thus OK with it. He went to bed with that same light feeling. The next day however she didn't call him and when he tried to call her she didn't answer. He told himself that it was fine, and for a while he truly believed it. But then night hit and he still hadn't heard from her.

  But even so, he convinced himself that it was all fine and he was just being obsessive. Although he told himself this, when he went to bed that night it wasn't with the same feeling of self-confidence and belief he had experienced the previous two nights.

  Waking up, Clint felt his heart sink when he checked his phone to find that there were no messages from Olivia. And if that hurt, what followed was essentially a kick to the face as he tried to call her only for his call to go straight to voicemail.

  He didn't know what was going on. If he should be worried or concerned for Olivia? Perhaps she was in trouble? Perhaps... perhaps it was his story on the Arizona that turned her off? This thought washed over Clint like a tidal wave and suddenly, a moment that had seemed to pure, somehow felt dirty. He had opened himself up, too much by the sounds of it. He had opened up and scared Olivia off...

  Clint just couldn't believe that were true. In fact he refused to. The real problem was that he had too much time to think. Since he was brought up on charges he had been put on temporary leave and thus hadn't worked in days. He thus decided that the best thing for him to do was to get to work. Something, anything really to keep him occupied.

  He was on his way to his barracks when he got the bad news.

  "Clint! Clint!" The voice called out to him from across the dock. It belonged to Hartman, another SEAL on Clint's team. "Wait up!"

  "Hartman," Clint offered as he came to a standstill. "What's up? You look nervous." Indeed, Hartman didn't look quite right and nervous may have been an understatement.

  "I'm sorry man," Hartman began as he pulled up. "I drew the short straw here."

  "What are you talking about?" Clint asked, genuinely having no idea what the heck he was going on about.

  "Word just came down. You've been reprimanded for that thing with the Coast G
uard the other day. You're on leave until further notice."

  "What?!"

  "Yeah, like I said I pulled the short straw here having to tell you. I was also told to tell you that you're on thin ice and one more foot out of line could see you disbarred entirely. Sorry man," he offered, patting Clint on the shoulder. "We all think it's bullshit too. I would have done the same thing were I..."

  But Clint had stopped listening. The docks seemed to spin around him as the words sunk in. There was an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach too. One he didn't recognize. One he had never had the displeasure of feeling before. It didn't hurt, at least not physically. But it made him feel ill.