The Glorious Becoming (Epic)

by Lee Stephen

  Scott couldn’t help it. “I have to ask you: did Custer get shipped to that new base in Sydney?”

  She blinked. “Yes!” Her eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

  Unbelievable. “I already know you’re not going to believe this. We had a mission back at Novosibirsk, it was actually a rescue. Custer was in the unit we rescued, Pelican Squad.”

  “Get out!”

  Laughing, Scott shook his head. “I’m dead serious. The minute you said his name, I knew I knew him.”

  Natalie leaned back in shock. “I cannot believe you know Reginald Custer.”

  “I don’t know him beyond his name, but I definitely remember him.”

  “He’s hard to forget. God, he was such a pompous punk.” She laughed. “People use to call him Custard instead of Custer to get him riled up. ‘Custard can’t cut the mustard.’ He’d hear that every time he screwed up.” Looking Scott in the eyes, she leered. “Speaking of mustard...” She pulled the jar of mustard from her purse. “Let’s see if this measures up to blanc de noir.”

  Scott leaned back, almost as if trying to avoid some sort of blast. “It’d probably be best if you don’t do that.”

  “Au contraire,” she said, “I love mustard.” Opening the jar, she set it down and jabbed a piece of meat with her fork. “Though I must confess, that this is used, re-gifted mustard concerns me.” She dunked the meat in the jar; it was drenched.

  Eyes widening, Scott said, “That’s a lot.”

  “No guts, no glory. This had better be good.” Opening her mouth, she swallowed it whole.

  Oh boy...

  Her initial reaction was surprise. Her jaw moved purposefully, seeming to scrutinize the flavor with every chew. Her brow furrowed. She suddenly stopped chewing.

  Here it comes.

  He remembered the first time he’d taken a taste. The mustard had struck his tongue like habanero lightning. Combined with the vinegar-sharp flavor of the sauce, it was a match made in hell. Leaning back a little more, he waited for the explosion. And sure enough, it came.

  “This stuff is great!”

  Error—does not compute. “Uhh, what?”

  She enthusiastically stabbed another piece of meat. “How can you not like this?”

  Staring dumbfounded, Scott blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Are you challenged?”

  “No, I’m not challenged,” she said, dunking a second piece. “You seriously don’t like this?”

  “You seriously can stomach it?”

  Biting into the second chunk, she closed her eyes blissfully. “Mmmm...” She looked lost in a dream. Swallowing, she stared at him again. “I’m being serious: you really don’t like this?”

  “Captain, I whole-heartedly hate it. It burned a hole in my mouth.”

  Waving at her mouth briskly, she grabbed her water. “It’s hot, now, make no mistake.” She drank several gulps. “But this is probably the best mustard I’ve ever had.” She downed a third piece, moaning contentedly. “Back home, I never used yellow mustard. Even at the ballpark, it was spicy mustard every time. I’ve gotten used to the burn.” Inspecting the jar, she asked, “Can you get more of this?”

  He thought out the request. He probably could. He could write Svetlana and ask her to send him more, leaving out the small detail that it wasn’t for him. “No promises, but I’ll see.” If nothing else, it was another way to keep Natalie buttered up.

  “Consider this your first order, commander.”

  Laughing, he saluted. “Yes ma’am.”

  Warmth. From the moment they’d first climbed into the jeep, he’d felt it with her. She was from his home state. She shared his idealism. She knew people he knew. They could pick back and forth, on the most trivial of things, and it felt so natural. The way she smiled at him, the way her grin stretched so genuinely, so gratefully. There was a wonderful thrill that accompanied it. It felt so freeing. It felt so...magnetic.

  No! He slammed on his mental brakes. Don’t even turn down that neighborhood! His heart slammed into reverse, its emotional wheels digging out like a desperate mud buggy. The inertia was almost tangible. He course-corrected the conversation at once. “How would you like me to approach my role as XO, captain?” His natural charisma compensated for the suddenness of the shift.

  Natalie’s lips parted slightly. Thinking on it for several seconds, she answered sincerely. “With openness and honesty.”

  Scott’s gut wrenched as she continued.

  “I’ve seen a lot of rigidity in a lot of units. I’ve seen CO’s and XO’s with zero relationship outside of the workplace. I don’t want that to be us.” She maintained purposeful eye contact. “Behind closed doors, I want us to be friends. If you disagree with me, I want you to tell me. If you think I’m wrong about something, I want to hear that, too. On that same note, if you just want to hang out and pass time, I want to be there for that, too.” She continued apprehensively. “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, that I’m lenient or lackadaisical. I’m the farthest thing from. But we’re in this together. No one else, not even Logan or Broll, is going to dictate the direction of this unit like you and I will. I really hope you’re looking forward to that as much as I am.”

  She had put herself on the table—opened herself up for him to accept or reject. He needed to put her at ease, let her know that they were on the same page. That deception was easy; he’d have loved to serve with this woman.

  “Natalie,” he said, “we’re going to do amazing things.”

  Her smile widened; she looked thrilled. “I am so excited about this—I can’t even express it. I was fortunate to move up the rank ladder fairly quickly in Atlanta; I had a CO who believed in me. I spent a lot of time at epsilon, just learning.” Her posture relaxed. “I was a commander for about six months before this opportunity opened up. Cairo wasn’t my first choice, but who gets their first choice, right? But now that I’m here, now that I’ve had a chance to learn the lay of the land...now that I’ve got a chance to meet my XO,” she said, smiling a tad longingly, “we’re going to make such a difference here, Scott.”

  The thought struck him suddenly—out of nowhere. Tell her. What if he did just that? What if he told her everything? Who he was, where he was from, why he and his team were in Cairo. What if he laid everything on the table, as she had with him?

  What if the veil of secrecy fell?

  The rest of their dinner conversation remained light. But beneath the surface of Scott’s exterior, levity was nowhere to be found. Amid conversations about everything from EDEN protocol to bobbing for apples at the Nebraska State Fair, he thought of telling Natalie the truth. He imagined himself telling her about H`laar and about the mission assigned to him by General Thoor. What he couldn’t imagine was how she’d react. It was risk versus reward to the highest degree. The reward was an ally who understood. The risk was everything else.

  And so the night passed. They finished their meals. She hijacked the check. They left for the jeep. Scott’s inexplicable inclination to show his hand never came to fruition, his inner turmoil disguised behind a mask of jovial banter. His captain was now his friend—just like he’d envisioned when he’d first opened his door to greet her. He’d earned her trust.

  Ulterior motive accomplished.

  During the final ten minutes of their drive back to Cairo, conversation transitioned from constant, to sparse, to nonexistent. It was a gradual change, and not an uncomfortable one. Perhaps Natalie was lost in her own thoughts. Scott was certainly lost in his.

  He hated this mission. He hated everything about it. But more than anything, he hated lying to a woman who didn’t deserve it—looking her in the eyes and saying one thing while believing something else. Taking part in the destruction of an honest person’s career. That went against everything he believed. But he didn’t have a choice.

  Perhaps that was the allure of telling her the truth: the prospect of not needing to maintain a lie. What if she was sympathetic? What if she u
nderstood? He wouldn’t have to work against her, he could enlist her. She could help him get what he needed, and in return, he could help her get the Caracals off to the kind of start she envisioned for them. Everything could work.

  But what if she didn’t understand? And that was the danger. It would take her all of five seconds to comm Cairo and turn him in, at which point he’d be apprehended, Svetlana would be killed, and whatever secrets Benjamin Archer was hiding would stay hidden, for better or worse. All of five seconds. He’d have to kill her in four.

  How could he possibly risk that?

  Rolling back into the garage, Natalie pulled into a parking space and turned off the jeep. But when her fingers never slid from the ignition—when they remained apprehensively in place beside the wheel—Scott knew something heavy was about to come up. Seconds passed, until he finally looked at her. She was staring straight ahead over the steering wheel, posture tensed as silence came between them. She was about to say something. The air suddenly went thick.

  “Scott, can I ask you something?” For the first time that night, there was a tremble to her voice.

  Scott knew what he was about to be asked. The only thing he didn’t know was how he’d respond.

  Angling her head toward him, her query escaped. “How did your fiancée die?” It was delicate in delivery, as he knew it would be. It was almost asked in apology. Scott knew he could choose not to answer and she’d be okay with it.

  He’d seen her reaction the first time she’d learned of Nicole’s death in his room. It had taken her aback, affected her. It must have been in the back of her mind all night long.

  The truth was treacherous. It would leave a part of him exposed, which could come back to haunt him later. It would be more advantageous if he just made something up. But Nicole deserved better. “She was murdered.”

  A pained breath escaped Natalie’s lips; her eyebrows pulled together.

  How could she ever understand? Natalie hadn’t come from Novosibirsk—she’d come from a good place. She didn’t know darkness like The Machine. Darkness like him. “There’s a lot about me that’s hard to understand. In a lot of ways, Novosibirsk made me who I am.” Confession without confession. The only way he could say it. “At some point, you’re going to see that. When that happens, I hope you can forgive me.”

  She placed her hand gently atop his leg. There was nothing ulterior about the gesture. It just seemed out of sympathy.

  “There’s a very dark side to me, Natalie. Losing Nicole changed my life. She was my everything. Everyone has his demons. I’m not arrogant enough to think mine are the worst, but they’re good at what they do.” Looking her in the eyes for the first time, he spoke purposefully. “If you forget everything about tonight, everything we talked about, everything we joked about, I want you to remember this one thing. At some point, you’re going to see the worst side of me. When that happens, captain, know that I’m so sorry.”

  She’d begun to tear up halfway through his words. Snuffling in hard, she wiped her eyes, then reached for his hand. She said nothing. She didn’t need to. Her touch conveyed everything she couldn’t find the words to say.

  It killed him to know the sincerity of the sympathy she was lending him. She thought he was apologizing for how he’d behave on the battlefield, or how Nicole’s loss would show in his actions. She didn’t know it would be for betraying her.

  Moaning embarrassingly, she wiped her eyes again and looked away. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get emotional. That’s just...” She shook her head. “I’m just so sorry for your loss.” The words came out awkwardly. It was the only way she seemed able to end the conversation.

  The jeep was the last Scott saw of Natalie that night. After a span of silence, she apologized and explained that she needed a few minutes to herself. Scott knew what she meant: she didn’t want him to see her let it all out. He respected that, thanked her for dinner, then bid her good night.

  For Scott, the day had come to a close. What had started as a call to General Thoor’s Throne Room had taken him to Cairo, to the Caracals, and into the role of wolf in sheep’s clothing. It was a day that felt like forever. He was glad for it to end.

  Scott shaved before he went to bed. His desire to look rough-around-the-edges was gone.

  * * *

  THUMP.

  Esther sat on her bottom bunk with her knees propped up. Head leaning against the headrest, the scout stared at the open pages of a novel. It was Gothic romance—her favorite genre. She’d had the book open for over an hour; she had yet to turn a page. Eyes solemn and distant, she stared through the book as if it wasn’t even there.

  Thump.

  Esther had woken from her inebriated slumber to the same darkness she’d fallen asleep to. At the time, Boris had been absent from the room, though now he sat atop his own bunk, tossing a tennis ball methodically against the wall, catching it, then repeating. More relevant to Esther, however, was Jayden’s whereabouts. She hadn’t seen the Texan since going to bed. It was 2300 hours, and he still hadn’t returned. And that was all she could think about.

  Thump.

  For the first time since the first day she’d set foot in Novosibirsk, a man not named Scott Remington was at the forefront of Esther’s mind. A man whom she’d kissed. On several occasions since the incident, her fingers had hovered over the queue button of her comm, tuned to Jayden’s private frequency. But she couldn’t press the button in. She was afraid.

  Thump.

  She had taken a shower immediately upon waking, during the course of which the all-too-real details of the afternoon slowly returned to her—Route 66, the conversations she and Jayden had had, and most significantly, her moment of alcohol-inspired intimacy. In the wake of her mild hangover, it felt like some kind of dream. Yet it was there, caressing her subconscious as if the Texan was right there beside her.

  Thump.

  Right there beside her.

  Thump.

  Slamming down her book, Esther said, “For the love of God, Boris, if you throw that ball one more time, I’m going to cram it up your junk.”

  The technician stopped.

  Esther leaned back again. Worry lines etched around her eyes, she reached over to pick up her comm. She stared at the display, still tuned to Jayden’s line.

  The door opened; Esther bolted up in her bed. As Jayden quietly stepped inside, her fixed her eyes on him.

  Grinning, Boris said, “Hello, Jay! Where have you been?”

  “Hey man,” the Texan mumbled. His downcast gaze remained hidden by his cowboy hat. “I was just walkin’.”

  The technician looked at the clock. “That was a long walk.”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  Hiding her comm behind her pillow, eyes on Jayden the whole while, Esther situated herself upright. Lips parting, she stared as Jayden untied his boots.

  Thump.

  “Boris!” she screamed.

  He put the ball away.

  By the time Esther looked back from the distraction, Jayden was already making a beeline for the bathroom, setting his cowboy hat atop his dresser as he passed it. Brow arching painfully, she swallowed as he eased the door shut just enough to leave a small crack. Behind the door, the faucet came on.

  Slowly, Esther’s eyes sunk to her lap. Moving her hands there, she played delicately with her fingers as she listened to the distant splashing of water by the sink. For several seconds, the scout did nothing else. Then, she made her move. Pivoting off her bed, she plopped her feet on the floor and stood. “I’m going to brush my teeth,” she said absently to Boris. No time was reserved for the technician to reply. Slipping through the bathroom door, Esther left Boris staring quizzically from his bunk. As soon as she was inside, she pressed her back against the door until it clicked quietly behind her.

  Jayden was bent over the sink, arms spread and straight out as if holding himself up. His face was downcast, eye patch removed and sitting on the sink next to him as water droplets fell from his face, for
ehead, and hands.

  A chill struck Esther as Jayden lifted his head, the solid skin of his vacant left socket revealed to her in the reflection of the vanity mirror. He said nothing. No surprise that she’d followed him was indicated. Her back to the door, her hands folded apprehensively behind her back, Esther only breathed as he looked at her in the glass.

  Sliding his hand across the counter, Jayden turned off the faucet and grabbed towel. The Texan dried his face before reaching for his eye patch.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said quickly, yet quietly. Jayden paused with eye patch in hand, his good eye shifting purposefully from it to her. “If you don’t want to.” Licking dry lips, she watched for his reaction. Only when there was none did she speak again. “Are you mad at me?”

  Tilting his head as if to hone in on her voice, he gave no immediate response. Only after several seconds did he exhale, his shoulders easing down slightly. “Naw.”

  She brushed her fingers past her ear. When she spoke, her voice was trembling. “Then please tell me what you’re thinking.”

  He shook his head back and forth sweepingly. Hands still spread on the marble rim of the vanity, he stared into the basin. “I know you were drinkin’,” he said quietly. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

  Esther pressed her palm to her forehead; she inhaled through her nose.

  “You don’t gotta say nothin’.”

  “Jay,” she said through a breath of exhaustion. Opening her eyes, she gazed at his reflection. “I have to ask you a question. And I know this is sudden, and I know this is crazy, but I’ve really been thinking about this, and sometimes, I think, life just does crazy things, and the best thing you can do sometimes is just go for it.” His expression changing, Jayden stood upright. Swallowing timidly through pleading eyes, Esther asked, “Would you like to date me?” Jayden turned around; his good eye widened. As Esther held her breath, he strode straight for her.

  He only had to go halfway.

  No insobriety was involved when Jayden and Esther met in the middle of the bathroom. No sense of inappropriateness came when he took her in his arms. In that moment, as their eyes closed and their lips pressed together, they found themselves in the embrace of someone they knew just enough to know they hardly knew at all. But they found something else, too. Jayden found a woman who didn’t care that he had a broken body and a missing eye. And Esther found a man who, in a single moment, had put a grin on her face bigger than any Scott Remington ever had.