Page 19 of Exposing Adonis

“Now what?” I asked, looking over at the brown-haired Scot. He could have been Callum’s brother, they looked so similar. Their height, their build, and even some of their mannerisms smoke of closeness carved from a lifetime together.

I had seen him once before, toe-to-toe with my brother outside of the room where Callum had, unceremoniously kissed the daylights out of me, and ripped my discount red dress.

“We wait for Alastair and Hugo to return, then we pack up, and head down South.” He crossed his legs at the ankles in front of him, and intertwined his fingers over his flat belly.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because we’ll be closer to where they’ll be sneakingoutof that no man’s land,” he said, tapping his thumb against the table that held the enormous, Army green painted radio. “We’ll be faster to respond if something happens …” I gulped, and he paused. “Nothing bad will happen.” Was that an attempt at reassuring me? Because he sucked at it. “But if it does, we’ll be close by to react as necessary.” He finally turned towards me, his brown eyes glinting with humor. “Plus, Alex has a mansion there, and we’re invited to stay rent free.”

“Who’s Alex?” I asked.

“Alexander Baas,” he said, raising a brow. “Skinny fucker. Awkward, fake American accent. Spends a lot of time getting people to open their wallets. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. You worked for his company, after all.”

My eyes bugged out. “TheAlex Baas is going to have us stay at his house?”

“Aye, lass,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t get why everyone’s so enamored with him. He was a twat in school, and now he’s just a pretentious twat.” He smiled. “You should have seen what his nose used to look like before he got a doctor’s help.”

“No!” I said, covering my mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Aye!” He countered. “He was all teeth, and nose growing up. No way the nose he has now is the original.” He had a mischievous wink in his eye as he leaned towards me and whispered, “You know that voice he uses? Totally fake! The man showed up to a British school as an Afrikaaner, now all of a sudden he sounds American?” He tilted his head and a smile tilted one corner of his lips. “As if he didn’t spend money on a vocal coach. Bah! The bawbag.”

We laughed, the unease leaving my body. We sat in the dark, staring at the radio. It was about five inches tall, ten inches wide, and a whopping eight pounds of metal that was all sharp edges and awkwardness. A nearby laptop showed a green map and the location of the airplane.

A moment later, another voice came from the radio. “Base this is Red Baron. We’ve safely kissed the ground, over.”

I sat up. It was Callum. That call sign seemed a little on the nose, but I didn’t question it.

Geordie brought the handset to his mouth and pressed the button to transmit. “Red Baron this is base, everything go smooth? Over.”

“As good as could be.” Callum’s voice was unmistakable, crisp despite the radio’s static. “I’m switching us to internal comms. If she’s there, let her know thatheisfine. Definitely not a bird of prey though, over.”

I heard my brother’s voice in the background screaming a loud, “Fuck you!”

I wanted to laugh, but held it in. My body relaxed, relief filling my body. Ilovedto skydive. The feeling of the air hitting my body and the speed at which the distant earth rushed to meet me was a sensation you couldn’t get anywhere else. A skydive lasted minutes, but it was an extraordinary feeling of power, and meditation. The pressure of failure - which would result in death - had a way of clearing the mind.

It made you focus, and calm yourself. It made everything else in life seem unimportant.

My brother did not feel the same way. All he saw were the multiple ways things could go wrong.

“She there?” Callum’s voice was quieter now.

Geordie lifted his brow as he looked at me, before bringing the handset to his mouth. “Aye. Need her on?”

“No.” Callum said, quickly. “Just … checking she’s there. Out.”

A heavy silence passed between me and Geordie. I could taste the bitterness of it. We sat still, just breathing and staring at the lights.

“Listen,” Geordie said, clearing his throat, staring straight ahead. “He’s a good man. So … don’t … ”

His words dropped off, and I waited. Riding the silence.

“I’ve never killed a woman, but I’ll put a bullet in you and hide your body if you harm him.” His words ran together, bouncing with his strong, plosive accent.

I don’t know why his threat made me laugh.

“Wow, Geordie,” I said, in fake astonishment. “Good talk.”

“I try.” He smiled as though we were sharing some kind of understanding.

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