Nick replied, “I met the team as well, laid the groundwork for a long and meaningful relationship. Could you pick me up a deck of cards, standard deck for poker would be great, and a suitcase of beer (a suitcase is a large cardboard container, usually 24 cans total). I prefer MGD brand if you can get it. If not, any beer will do. Thanks, Nick.”

  Jay arrived at Nõn’s door at 1430 hours and knocked lightly on the door. She answered almost immediately, and he led her to a nearby door. She noticed they left the building walking out the door opposite the direction of Nick’s room. Jay was very subtle in his efforts to keep them apart and unaware of each other. If she hadn’t run into Nick in the airport and then spoken to him on the bus, she had to admit she would still be completely unaware of him.

  At the post office, Nõn asked the clerk to check for a package that had been sent to her name in care of “general delivery.” When she’d retrieved it, she felt relieved. She returned to the car and asked Jay if he would mind taking her to the store. She explained that she “wanted to pick up some supplies, she liked to drink a beer now and then and play solitaire at night. They both helped her sleep.”

  Jay said, “Sure, I get that. I like a drink now and then before bed. Not so much into solitaire, though.” Nõn smiled.

  Back at her room, Nõn wrote another email to Nick:

  “Nick, I am back from the post office and store. I bought two decks of cards and two cases of beer, just in case someone wants to see either. Where would you like me to put your beer and cards so that you can get to them? Nõn.”

  A few moments later, Nick replied:

  “Nõn, thanks much! Can you leave the beer and the cards behind the dumpster at the rear of the building? Just take them out in a sack after dark, like you were going to dump your garbage. I’ll pick them up. Did you get your package from the post office? Oh, and can you put the beer in your fridge so it’s cold? Nick.”

  Nõn wrote, “Nick, yes, I am relieved to have the package. I did not want to go on this trip without it, and it was a bit of stress trying to figure out how to get it here without a lot of problems. But it is here now, and I feel much better. Your beer is in the fridge. I will leave it where you asked. Is there anything new I need to be aware of?”

  “Nõn, not yet. I’ll keep in touch, don’t wait up for me! Time to do some night ops. Wish me luck. BTW, use the front door to take your garbage out so you’re on camera. Thanks again. Nick.”

  Nõn read the last message and deleted it. She hadn’t seen anyone suspicious in the hotel yet, but she didn’t want to leave anything to chance. She was remarkably relieved when she opened her self-addressed package and once again held her knife. Its crude shape and design were a comfort to her, as well as its considerable weight. She smiled as she checked the edge to make sure it was still razor sharp. Pulling up her sleeve, she ran the knife across her arm, barely letting the edge have contact with her skin. The tiny hairs on her forearm were immediately collected in a small clump. Her eyes glimmered; her talisman was back where it belonged, comfortably in her hand. She’d felt naked without it. Looking outside, she saw it was already dark. She hurried, gathering the beer and deck of cards in a bag for Nick and then left her room, walking down the hallway. She could hear the sound of the television; apparently, Nick was watching some game shows. She rolled her eyes; she hated game shows, mind-numbing garbage. Game shows weren’t what she expected someone like Nick to spend his time watching.

  Shrugging, she thought, I guess you can never really tell what people are really about.

  Walking out of the lobby, Nõn made sure to make eye contact with the clerk and then walked out to the dumpster. As she walked behind it, she was barely aware of a shape moving in the dark. Immediately and instinctively, she dropped the sack and retrieved her knife from under her clothing. She quickly took up a stance any martial arts practitioner would describe as a “horse stance” and waited for the attack to begin.

  No attack came. She called out to the shape quietly, “Come forward one step, and it will be your last.” She heard a slight laugh, and then a reply.

  Snickering, Nick said, “No, I’ll stay where I am. I think I took enough risk letting go of your hand on the bus, Nõn. I don’t want to be impaled on that bastardized Bowie knife you’re carrying.”

  “Nick?”

  “Yes, it’s me,” he said, then stepped out of the darkness. Dressed in black from head to toe, he’d completely blended in to the night shadows. She noticed he was incredibly quiet.

  Stepping forward, he took the bag and said, “Thank you, I see your package was well stocked.” He smiled as he motioned to the knife. “Glad to see you’ve graduated from ballpoint pens to something more substantial.” He drifted back into the shadows.

  She said, “I had this knife made for me many years ago. How did you get out of your room without me hearing the door close?”

  From the darkness he said, “We’re on the main floor, remember? I left my television on the timer setting and crawled out the window. I never opened or closed the door; that’s why you heard nothing.”

  “So where are you going? What is going on? Why did you need the beer and deck of cards?”

  Silence; not a sound from Nick.

  “Nick?” A few seconds later, “Are you there?”

  He was gone; just like that, he’d disappeared into the shadows. Not a sound, nothing to give away that he’d left. Nõn shuddered; the man was a mystery. No one moved that quietly. He did have some surprises. She was very uncomfortable now; he could be anywhere, and she didn’t like the idea that he was watching her. She left quickly and walked back into the building. Walking past his room, she heard a man’s voice yell out, “Come on down, you’re the next contestant,” and then a crowd erupted in applause. She smiled. Always with the surprises, this one.

  Nick left quietly, making his way from shadow to shadow, making sure not to silhouette himself with any back lighting. He had to make his way onto the runway and then to the abandoned hangar without a mistake. If he was caught, then he would have some explaining to do, and the worst of it would be how he was able to get the beer and deck of cards. Their alliance would be discovered.

  Forty minutes later, he was standing outside the hangar, listening. There was very little sound from inside the hangar. He had to wait for the right moment, or they’d be on him. There was little doubt of that outcome, his ass would be kicked most severely. Finally, he heard a collection of voices coming toward the door. He slipped into the shadows and disappeared. The metal door opened loudly, and four of the team members stepped outside into the darkness, and one lit up a cigarette and began to smoke. Nick slipped into the now open door quietly and unnoticed. He silently made his way to the office at the back of the hangar as the men outside began to talk among themselves. The other two were in here in the shadows somewhere. Finally, his eyes adapted to the complete darkness of the interior of the hangar. He could see some light from the outside and could now see the four men milling around in front of the door. Hugging the interior wall of the hangar, he took the long way to the office. Finally, he found the other two men. They were in the only other room in the hangar, a crude restroom and shower. The only creature comfort the team had been allowed. This was perfect. Nick slipped into the office and set the cold suitcase of beer on the table. Quietly, he opened the package and set 6 beers on the table. Then he sat down and waited. Opening the deck of cards, he removed them and began to practice his shuffle.

  The men finished their break and began to walk back into the hangar, talking among themselves and joking.

  One voice piped up, “So what do you think that reporter is wearing now?”

  “My guess is nothing, nothing at all,” another voice said.

  “Jesus, I would love to tap that ass! Did you see it? She has an ass like a twelve-year-old boy.”

  “Dude, only you would think a twelve-year-old boy had a hot ass.”

  They all broke out in laughter.

  Then suddenly, “Quiet, quiet, do you hear that? What the hell is that?” someone whispered.

  Nick kept shuffling and said, “Jack Lalanne and Richard Simmons wanted to be here tonight, but they were too busy having walker races at the old folks home. They send their best. Any one of you up for a beer and a friendly wager on a deck of cards?”

  The group stepped into the light of the office and glared at Nick as he sat at the table, surrounded by beer. They formed a semi-circle around him as he sat, shuffling.

  He smiled and said, “Gentlemen, I noticed an amazing lack of alcohol on my last visit. Step up and grab a beer, or if you prefer we can fight. Personally, I’d prefer a beer. It was a long walk to get here.”

  One of the men said, “Go get Rooney, now.”

  Another disappeared into the darkness, and a few moments later Rooney returned with the remainder of the team.

  “Nick, I see you’ve returned. Still aching for an ass kicking, I see.”

  “No, not really. I just thought you John Rambo types might like a beer and a friendly wager with a Depends-wearing old man bearing gifts.”

  “What’s the wager?”

  “We each put a hundred dollars on the table and shuffle the cards. First time through the deck, each card is face value. Royalty are ten, aces are fifteen. Clear?”

  “Sure.”

  “Next time through, it doubles, then triples, and so on.”

  “What’s the game?”

  “Pushups. I pull a card, and we each do the number of pushups that’s the number on the card. Last one doing pushups wins the pot. At first we all do the pushups together, and then rest 30 seconds after each card. Once it’s down to only two players, they take turns. They only rest while the other guy is doing pushups. It’s a contest me, Jack, and Richard came up with in the rest home. You guys up for it? Seven hundred bucks to the winner, and meanwhile you get about 4 beers each, on this old man’s tab.”

  Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out a one hundred dollar bill. He slapped it down on the table. “Ante up, gentlemen.”

  Rooney said, “This won’t take long, old man. We’ll have your money and beer and send you on your way with a beat down you won’t forget for some time.”

  Four hours later, there were two people left doing pushups, Rooney and Nick.

  “So explain to me how the hell you got into the hangar and no one noticed?”

  “I taught Johnny English everything he knows.”

  The group laughed, and Rooney said, “No, serious, man, how did you get in?”

  “I used a trick I learned the night of the Tet offensive. Can’t share it with you, sorry. National secrets, you understand.”

  The two men were exhausted and stalling for time. Garcia drew an ace, and Nick went first. The group counted while he painfully forced out seventy-five pushups.

  Rooney was next. Garcia drew a card, seven. Rooney did thirty-five pushups.

  Garcia drew another card, a king.

  Nick finished fifty pushups, sweat dripping off his face onto the concrete floor.

  Garcia drew another card, a ten of clubs.

  Rooney punched Garcia in the chest and dropped to do fifty more pushups. Garcia laughed as he barely made the last rep. Garcia drew another card, another ace.

  Nick dropped down to do his seventy-five pushups, and the room went quiet. At 60, he stopped and said, “Wait a goddamn minute, that was the fifth ace in this shuffle. I made sure there were only four aces when we started. You assholes stacked the deck!”

  The room erupted in laughter. Garcia and Green were rolling on the floor. Rooney, laughing so hard he could barely speak, said, “Ya, we stacked the deck. We started stacking the deck when it came down to just me and you. Jesus, you, Jack and Richard must do some serious shit in that fucking rest home, old man! The pot is yours. Take it. I was out fifteen cards ago. Have a beer, old man, there’s one left.”

  An hour later, Nick was crawling back through the window of his room. He was sore, covered in sweat, but had achieved his goal. The ice between them was broken. The team was nothing but mercenaries, just like Nõn had said. There would be no loyalty from them or between them. They were here for the money and the money only, but at least now they understood he had a skill set to bring to this mission that was worthwhile. More than the pushups, sneaking in unnoticed and setting up the beer and cards like he did had an impact on their perception of him. No one had figured that one out; best they didn’t know how simple it really was. Really, better to keep them guessing, he thought as he slid into bed, exhausted.

  Running through the hallway, Nick was trying to find a child he could hear screaming. The air was filled with smoke, making it hard to see and breathe. Smoke was everywhere and thick. Disoriented, he dropped to his knees; the air was better down here, and he could at least see the hallway in front of him. Crawling as fast as he could, he knew this was going south fast. He had to find the child and get both of their asses out of the building before the floor beneath them collapsed into the fire raging one floor below. The child’s screams were horrifying and shrill, pain-filled screams of agony that ended only when its lungs were void of air. The pattern repeated, screams, silence, then more screaming. Everything slowed down, and his legs became heavy, too heavy. He was losing strength, losing the will to go on, more screams. Finally, the flames burst through the floor and he was engulfed in fire. He panicked and screamed. The pain was indescribable. He’d been told you pass out when you’re engulfed in a fire and you’d never feel a thing, you just died. It wasn’t true; his body was on fire, and he felt everything. The skin crackled and peeled back, charred his eyelids, pulled back, leaving the balls of gelatin exposed. He felt them erupt, and liquid flowed down his cheeks. He inhaled to scream, and his lungs were filled with fire. He tried to scream, but all that came from his lungs were smoke and fire. As he was spitting fire from his own lungs, the child screamed again. Nothing he could do now, he was dying. The child screamed again.

  Nick shot up in bed, soaked with sweat. The child’s scream morphed into the phone ringing. Breathing hard, his lungs hurt, his throat felt burned and strained, as if he actually had been screaming in terror. His chest, arms, and back were all aching and stiff. Reaching for the phone, his arms and back were quick to remind him of the stupidity of the previous night’s events. Finally, fumbling, he reached the phone, still shaking from the memory of the dream. His hands and feet tingled painfully, and his eyes had a hard time focusing.

  Jesus, I feel old, he thought as he picked up the phone.

  “Ya? What?”

  It was Jay. “Ya? Is that how you answer the phone, really? Ya? Jesus, where were you? I let the phone ring maybe ten times.”

  “Sorry, man, I was in the shower. What’s up?”

  “What’s up is we have a mission briefing today in a half-hour. Think you can make that, or do you need to get back to that shower?”

  “Ya, I’ll be there. Meet in the lobby? When?”

  “Meet in the lobby in half an hour. Don’t be late.” Jay hung up.

  A quick five-minute, sore muscled, pain-filled shower later, Nick was getting dressed and walking out the door. There was no one in the hallway. He was grateful for that; it gave him time to stretch and loosen up a little. Jesus, he was sore. Working the soreness out of his arms, back and chest would take some time.

  Entering the lobby, he saw they were just setting up for the continental breakfast. He looked for a clock; seeing none, he asked the clerk setting up the coffee and Danish, “What time is breakfast?”

  The clerk replied, “Breakfast is served every day beginning at seven a.m., until eight thirty a.m.”

  Damn, it was nearly seven a.m. He’d only been asleep four hours, just long enough for the soreness to set in and the nightmares to set up shop and torment him once again.

  Sitting down, he waited for the clerk to finish setting up the coffee pots and pastry cart. Getting up to pour himself a cup of decaf, he heard the door open behind him.

  It was Nõn. She ignored him and walked up to the coffee and pastries and quietly whispered, “Did you hear all that screaming this morning? It sounded like someone was being killed, and then it just stopped.”

  “Screaming? Nope, didn’t hear a thing.”

  “It was horrible. To be honest, I thought it sounded like you.”

  He shook his head no but wouldn’t make eye contact with her as he sipped his coffee and turned around to go back to his chair. She watched him carefully and noticed the stiffness in his gait, and how carefully he sat down in the chair.

  I wonder what happened last night? she thought.

  She sat down at another table and began to read a paper she’d picked up at the front desk. They ignored each other until Jay arrived.

  Jay entered the room from the hallway and said, “Good to see you both, glad you’re here early so we can do the introductions.” He said, “Nick, this is Nõn. She’ll be joining us today. Nõn, this is Nick. He’s a pain in the ass, and he too is on the team.”

  Nick smiled, Jay did not. Nõn and Nick shook hands and pretended they hadn’t met.

 

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