Page 42 of Lust in Translation

“No. Of course not. You’re with me.” He drops his fingers, but keeps his face close to mine. “I have you.”

Swallowing hard, I let my face press closer. “Leo.”

He doesn’t pull back. Not this time. His skin smells warm and clean and I can’t help myself. I bury my face in his neck and pull myself into an embrace, his arms circle me immediately. “Let’s pause this conversation for a while, okay? When the dust settles we can have a bog night.” The dust being my marriage, I assume. “No holds barred. We’ll talk about everything.” He pulls away to keep watch out of the snow-washed windshield. “Kendall, we’re going to walk to my office—slowly. You’re going to stay behind me the entire time. Where the cages are, okay? I need to get some of my gear and I don’t want you going to your office building in case there really is a threat. Do you understand? I need you to stay with me.”

I inhale his scent once more and my heartrate responds accordingly, slowing. “Yes. I’ll do what you say. How in the world would there be a threat on base?” Everything is so tight and the processes methodical.

I release him and he keeps a hand on my waist. “This might have been planned because of this snow storm. There is a short delay between when the power shuts off and when the generators kick on.” Harbour Point is right on the beach. The backside is docks and water and I envision bad guys swimming up to the snowy shore. My mind flicks over about five horrifying scenarios in a matter of seconds.

Leo tells me to put my gloves on as he settles his cap on his head. His hand slides over my thigh as he reaches into the glove compartment to pull out a gun.

I close my eyes. “Oh, my God.”

He clears his throat. “A precaution, Kendall. Don’t freak out. You know what I do for work.”

“I’ve never seen it.” I ball my hands into fists.

He chuckles. “Better safe than sorry. Wait there. I’m going to come around and get you.”

The methodical steps he’s taking are making me wary. Did he downplay this so-called threat? He hops out of the truck, and instead of going around the front like I expect, he goes around the back and opens the passenger door. He holds a hand out to help me out. I slide out into the snow, remarking about leaving my laptop bag and purse in the truck. A trivial, stupid worry when the man holding onto me has a gun in his other hand.

He closes the truck door using care so it doesn’t make noise. Letting go of my hand, he spins to face me. Snowflakes are floating down around us. It’s so peaceful. A melancholy perfection that isn’t real. Like our entire friendship, I think. When he’s sure he has my attention, he says, “Step where I step. One set of footprints. Do you understand?”

I nod. He shakes his head. “I need a verbal confirmation.”

“Yes,” I say.

Leo nods, but he’s looking over my shoulder, eyes scanning like a robot, or a trained killer. My stomach sinks. He takes several steps forward toward his building. Small steps. Ones he knows will be easy for me to follow. The wind stings my face, but sweat is coating my entire body. No one is visible right now. I’m not sure if it’s because we’re here later than usual, or because some employees haven’t made it due to the snow, but it’s eerily quiet. The crunch of the snow and the bite of the wind is all that can be heard. Even my breaths disappear and I realize I’ve been holding it.

I clutch the back of Leo’s jacket when he comes to a stop.

His cell phone chimes from his pocket again. With the gun raised in one hand, he slides his hand into his pocket with the other. He holds the cell away from his body so he doesn’t have to avert his gaze completely from the front, where he’s aiming. “Fuck,” he whispers, dropping the phone into the snow. It disappears into a snow drift, the light still glowing up at us.

“What?” I can’t catch my breath as the panic sets in. This is the reality we live with that every person hopes they never have to encounter. I’m supposed to be safe here. I’m working on a military base. The terrorists can’t touch us here.The terrorists are why there is a base here,I remind myself. They lie in wait to commit heinous acts against Americans. It’s been this way since the beginning of WWIII. You never expect to deal with it, but I know, I just know, that’s what is happening right now. Why Leo is shaken.

He shakes his head, a slight movement, and reaches behind him to pull me closer to his body. “Fuck.” His voice is a gruff whisper. “We’re moving now.”

He steps. Quicker now. With force. Without the care for the distance between steps. I’m jogging to keep up, to keep my feet inside his. He reaches back again and yanks my hand. “Just run. Don’t worry about where you step.”

I cry, terrified tears streaming down my face that feel like icicles embedding into my skin. “What’s happening?” I sniffle once, loudly. “Leo!” I cry out.

We’re close to the door when I hear the shots. Or what I fear are shots. I’ve never heard them in person. Only in movies where they sound like pops. Or on the news when it still holds a Hollywood quality. This sounds like firecrackers popping in quick succession. Nothing like you’d think it should sound like. It’s not as severe in person—it’s more tame.

The second I take the first running step away from Leo, I know it’s a mistake, but I can’t stop the panic driving me toward the double doors of the building. They’re about twenty steps away. It’s not until I pull on the handle that I realize I don’t have the proper badge to get into the building. Leo is screaming at me to get away from the doors. “I can’t get in!” The power is out. Even Leo’s badge wouldn’t work. The realization comes too late. I’m stuck here, away from him.

“Get away from the doors! They’re rigged. The building is rigged.” His eyes grow wide and a look I’ve never seen before transforms his face. He’s scared. Leo Callaway is frightened.

I don’t process what that means even though his words are as clear as a bell in the silence between shots. I freeze as I watch him turn his handgun toward the right and fire shots at someone or something. I can’t draw my eyes away from his face. Maybe because if it’s the last thing I see, I want it to be something honest. A truth in the bed of lies I sleep in. He turns back to me, the gun down by his side now, gaze boring into mine as he closes the distance between us. He knocks into me so hard I lose my breath completely. He grabs me by the waist, hoists me over his shoulder and runs, a jerky back and forth pounding on my stomach as I dangle like a limp rag.

The rapid-fire pops sound again and Leo tosses me next to a dumpster, directly into a pile of thick snow. “Stay hidden,” he screams, disappearing from view. The mottled grey sky continues to dump snow as more pops join in the symphony. I shake uncontrollably, my hands and legs quivering as shock seeps into my body and takes residence in the driver’s seat. I pull myself closer to the dumpster and tuck my snow-covered knees up against my chest.

My body is jolting, shaking, and my crying a jagged chorus with every breath I take. Leo slides around the side of the building and out of my view. The building, the one I just tried to enter, the one he just crept around, explodes loudly into a dark orange fury of flames. The heat beats against my face, but I’m far enough away—safe from whatever bomb was detonated. I stand, using the dumpster to support me. “Leo,” I scream.

I call his name over and over. The shots have stopped now that the fire is raging, so I leave my hiding spot and head toward where I last saw Leo, keeping a safe distance from the flames incinerating a section of the building. I fall down three times before I make it to the side of the building. I’m caked with snow and I’m dragging my heavy snow boots. A SEAL I don’t recognize at first commands me to stop. Glancing quickly, I realize it’s Long and he has a long-barreled gun pointed directly at me. I put my hands up. “It’s me, Kendall Simmons. Leo. I need to find him. Find him,” I rasp out, and I realize he probably didn’t understand a word I said because my voice is quaking. “I came in with Leo Callaway,” I try again. “Please help me!”

Long lowers the gun and rushes over to me. “Fucking hell. Where did you last see him? When the power was flickering, they put goddamn IEDs all over the fucking base.” He goes on about how they’ve taken the terrorists down, but I barely register what he’s saying because I’m consumed with worry for Leo.

I see a figure moving in between the buildings. “I see him!” I call, taking off into a jog, my limbs suddenly working the way they’re supposed to. I hear Long close behind me. The heat from the flames intensifies as I get closer to the man dragging his body through the snow. “Leo,” I scream, recognizing his snow jacket. I say his name over and over. Long gets to him first and picks him up, grunting, and makes his way back to the dumpster. I follow along, trying my best to keep up.

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