Page 168 of The Texas Sterling Collection
CHAPTER SEVEN
Monday afternoon, Wyl and Rod boarded their flight and settled into their first-class seats.
“How about a martini?” Rod reached for the in-flight magazine to see if someone on a prior flight had done the crossword puzzle.
“I’d love one,” Wyl said.
As if sensing their need, the flight attendant appeared. “Drink, gentlemen?”
“Two vodka martinis, please,” Wyl said, “Tito’s if you have it. And a newspaper.”
“Certainly, Mr. Sterling. Is the Washington Post okay?” The flight attendant paused while passengers moved down the aisle toward their seats.
“The Post is fine,” Wyl said. The flight attendant hurried through a break in the boarding line before moving into the galley.
Minutes later, the flight attendant set their drinks on the console between the seats and handed WylThe Washington Post.
“To a wonderful honeymoon,” Rod offered a toast.
Wyl tapped. “And a safe return to Sterling Ranch.”
They sipped their drinks, and Wyl opened the newspaper while Rod retrieved his pen to work on the flight magazine crossword.
Wyl gazed at his husband.I need to protect him. Thedanger overshadowing their assignment was his primary concern, but the overwhelming desire to protect his husband from that danger took precedence.In the Marines, he worked behind the scenes. This mission required him to be on the front line. Facing criminals was one thing, but Rod had no prior experience with the military or criminals. Based on General Steinburg’s information, both Irish gents they needed to get to know held graduate degrees. His lack of education added to his angst. Still, he knew cryptography better than anyone, so he would play up his strength as a cybersecurity expert while Rod handled academic discussions. Come to think of it, having Rod by his side was a huge plus. But all that aside, disregarding his fear of gunfire, he would take a bullet to protect Rod if needed.
They had to appear to be on an extended honeymoon. That part would be easy. After their small wedding seven months prior, they had briefly discussed a trip to Europe for their honeymoon. While the discussion didn’t include nabbing criminals, this trip would give them time together. And Rod knew Ireland, so they could explore the wonders of the Emerald Isle as time allowed.
The U.S. Embassy in Dublin, 130 miles from their home base in Galway, had only high-level information about the mission. They wouldn’t interact with embassy officials. General Steinburg had worked only with top brass at An Garda Síochána, the Irish national police force. Only a select few know of their mission, but they would have local support through the Galway headquarters. The general also mentioned the involvement of British agents. Wyl wondered if those agents would be James Bond types. Dressed in dark suits, wearing sunglasses, brandishing pistols, and drinking their martinis shaken, not stirred. He chuckled. To everyone else, they were a wealthy gay couple enjoying an extended honeymoon on the Emerald Isle.
“What’s funny, babe?” Rod asked.
Wyl shook his head. “Nothing. I was just thinking about the two British agents. James Bond popped into my head.”
Rod laughed. “I doubt the 1960s version exists today.”
Wyl shook his head. “Probably not, but our trip is no less important.”
“I bet we don’t have an Aston Martin to drive.”
“Probably just as well,” Wyl chuckled. “I wouldn’t get to drive it.”
“You can drive if you want, babe.”
“That would be a big no. I’m strictly a right-side-of-the-road kind of guy. Besides, I don’t want to add further jeopardy to our honeymoon.”
Rod grabbed Wyl’s hand and held tight as they leaned back for the long flight.
* * *
They landed at Shannon Airport at 9:30 a.m. on Tuesday, October 5th. After gathering their luggage and going through customs, they stopped at the Dan Dooley car rental counter. They had a long-term contract for their stay with an open return date.
“Sterling,” Wyl said as he got out his driver's license and credit card. Rod retrieved his license as well.
“Which of you is the primary driver?” the agent asked.
“I am. Rod Sterling.”
“Excellent, sir. And you, Mr. Wyl Sterling, will you be driving?”
