Page 21 of Exposing Adonis

I was already overladen with the a military grade radio, which weighed a ton. I’d have to lug that along with my rifle. The rifle was the lightest part. The magazines and ammo weighed more. Then I had water, MRE’s which could last a day, and a few other quick feed items like a pack of jelly used by marathon runners to give them a quick shot of carbohydrates. I assumed her captors weren’t feeding her, so she’d need a fast-acting source of energy.

I was a turtle, carrying everything on my back but the kitchen sink, so the parachute could fly off to hell. I wouldn’t carry it.

Though, the idea of skydiving with Lea - recreationally, of course - sounded delightful. I wouldn’t mind strapping her to me. Would she smile as we hurtled toward the ground? Would she play and dance during freefall? I bet she would.

Leo’s question still hung in the space between us.What are your intentions with my sister?

How would I answer that particular doozy?

I opted for the truth, wiping my hands after stacking rocks around the large parachute container and staring at the man. He was short, but there was something bizarrely imposing with the way he stood, unperturbed by our size difference. I’d sooner underestimate a venomous snake than I would this assassin.

If I lied, I had a feeling I might find a knife embedded in the side of my neck. After his sister had done just that, I wasn’t sure I’d live through a second round.

“What do most men want with women?” I couldn’t help make a little jab, even if I didn’t mean it. He narrowed his eyes, assuming the worst. I tried not to smirk, but put him out of his misery quickly, before he took a swing at me. “For now? Monogamy. Her presence on my arm when I have to go to galas, and functions. Maybe we could even have dinner together, and catch a matinee at the West End. In the long term? Marriage, I suppose. Kids, if we can have them. Or if she wants them. Companionship. Someone to grow old with. The normal things.”

“Marriage?” Leo looked at me, adjusting the gear attached to his clothes.

A Caiman Balistic helmet was in his hand, an AK-47 strapped to his chest, and the magazines stored in his pocket. He was there to look like a paramilitary insurgent. He wore black cargo pants to match the preferred uniform of the KPLA, with an out of commission desert camouflage top. A balaclava was around his neck, which he could use to hide his face. His hair, dyed back to its natural black, flopped over his high, square brow. He had a water canteen on his belt, but not much else. Since he was going to act like this washiscamp, it didn’t make sense for him to be geared up like a turtle.

“Aye, isn’t that the normal intention when you start courting someone?” I wiped the dirt from my hands, and my knees.

“You think what you’re doing is … courting?” He didn’t believe a word I was saying.

“What would you call it?” I put on my fake American accent, with a slight twang. “Dating? Seeing each other? Going steady?”

I winced as I said it. I shook my head, and walked in the direction of the camp. It was quite a trek. Whatever we needed to get off our chests had to be said before we were within hearing distance of the KPLA camp.

“I’m too fucking old to call her my girlfriend,” I said, and was gratified when he matched my stride and walked beside me. “She’s not a girl.And I’m certainly not a boy. We’re two people making a go of it.”

“A go of it … ?” He said it as a question, but I knew that he was chewing the words, trying to figure out if I had said enough. If my intentions were worthy of his only sibling.

I was touched. Maybe even a little jealous. I always wanted a sibling. Instead, I just had chocolatiers - the offspring of rich parents who couldn’t bother to raise us.

“What do you want from Chloe?” I employed that old tactic of turning the question around.

“I just want her safe.”

“You’re not interested?” I asked, surprised. But I didn’t believe a word.

“She’s just a good person, and doesn’t deserve … ” He waved his hand at our surroundings. “Any of this.”

“I agree.” I said, nodding. Chloe was the best of us.

As a child, she was a sweet little girl who thought that a hug and a four leaf clover, picked from the school’s enormous green football field could heal anyone’s wounds. As an adult, she made it her job to heal the most vulnerable populations. The nation-less women and children stuck in this ungoverned, and often ignored spaces.

“You’re saying that if it was any other doctor, or any other Baas Medical worker, you would have sent your sister to me so we could rescue them?” I asked, trying to seem casual.

“Sure.” He said, but his voice fell, because it was a lie. We both knew it.

“A’right, lad,” I said with a chuckle. “Whatever you say.”

In a few minutes, I raised my finger to my lips, and we slowed our gait, bending at the knees to lessen the impact of each footstep. He instinctively mimicked me without instruction - surprising for a Navy man, a service that was rife with insubordination and smart-assery.

We came to a ridgeline and crawled up the edge, careful not to silhouette ourselves against the blue-black sky and the sprinkling of bright stars. I could see the Milky Way, and all the constellations. I could name many of them. Though maybe not as well as my Atalanta.

I wished Lea could have seen this night, but didn’t regret leaving her behind. A night making love under the stars would suit us both very well.

We looked down at the tent-city camp, and I pulled out a set of small binoculars. I identified likely buildings where a high value hostage would be kept. It wasn’t hard to pinpoint - only one tent had a guard standing outside.

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