The Codetalkers (The Rebelutionaries Series: Book 2) Page 13
Part of their family?
The homesickness hit me like a ton of bricks.
“I set the solitary in families,” whispered the Still Small Voice.
I cleared my throat to get rid of the lump that had formed it.
“I didn’t see them near my car... I don’t know when they put the bug in there.”
“They probably put it there when they tagged your roof. Then they located your vehicle from satellite imagery, homed in on the low powered locator beacon, then tuned in to hear anything you said to others while near your car. It’s a fairly standard approach to surveillance.”
“I’m familiar with locator beacons, but not the type with built in listening devices.”
“The range of the listening device they’ve placed in your car is about 200 metres. It’s safe to talk in a noisy environment like this food hall this far from your car.”
“What we’ve got to do is work out how to get rid of them once and for all,” said Dutchy decisively. “Have you spoken to anyone when you’ve been in your car. As Hope?”
“I haven’t used my mobile or Skype... But they might have overheard something you’ve said near my car... Which means they might know that Pedro and I aren’t really married...”
“I don’t think so,” countered Pedro. “They only found you yesterday afternoon. And we’ve been careful too.”
“What do you mean?”
“Pedro noticed the painted cross on the top of your car and voiced his concerns when you first arrived...” explained Dutchy. “As a precaution we’ve held most of our private conversations in Istro-Romanian. And to further confuse anyone eavesdropping we’ve also communicated in Spanish, English, Dutch and Haitian. Anyone listening in probably thinks you’re surrounded by about thirty people, not a handful of adults and children.”
I marvelled at their resourcefulness.
“Even if they’ve recorded our discussions, they still have to determine which linguistically endangered sub-dialect we speak,” resumed Pedro. “And then find a translator. Which is difficult because there are only about 500 native speakers of our dialect in Europe, in two small villages... and the same number again scattered throughout the rest of the world.”
“I think the best plan to get rid of them is to have a conversation confirming that Heidi’s left the country. Near the car,” announced Dutchy.
“Or in the car!” suggested Reece, wriggling his eyebrows expressively.
The conversation slipped from English into Istro-Romanian like a smooth gear change... I opted to read their facial expressions. Which were revealing. Everyone clearly liked Reece’s idea and nodded approvingly. Except for Pedro. The intensity of his headshaking indicated he was mega reluctant.
“What’s the plan?” I asked Pedro, when there was a lull in the babble.
Dutchy grinned and draped a fatherly arm over Pedro’s shoulder. Pedro rubbed his creased brow.
“Reece suggested that we sit in your car then drop information which reconfirms Heidi is no longer in Australia. Then we will vacuum up the bug in the normal course of cleaning the car. And dispose of it in the ocean.”
“But you don’t like the idea?” I probed.
“Reece suggested that we... breathe noisily while we’re chatting in your car. To reconfirm that we’re a married couple.”
He looked stretched. I tried to look neutral.
Silence.
“Hope is not saying anything. She’s frightened about this plan,” argued Pedro.
“Are you sure it’s Hope that’s frightened?” probed Dutchy. “It has been over a year now since you made love to a woman. That’s too long for a man in his prime. It is time to let a woman’s touch awaken your senses again.”
The frankness of their exchange left me reeling. Pedro sighed noisily and broke off eye contact with Dutchy. He reached out and gently rested his hands on my shoulders.
“I promise I will not violate you as we carry out this wild plan, Hope.”
I nodded mutely.
Pedro redirected his gaze at Dutchy and Reece.
“But I can’t promise not to clobber you two afterwards for putting Hope and me through this!” he scowled.
Their warm laughter echoed around me... It felt eerily familiar.
Another sense of déjà vu.
Dutchy’s laughter intermingled with my mother’s. Late at night, after I’d been sent to bed and was pretending to be asleep...
I rubbed my eyes tiredly.
Sometimes my overactive sixth sense made absolutely no sense at all...
It is curious that physical courage should be so common in the world
and moral courage so rare.
-Mark Twain
I systematically looked over Pegasus. She was in dire need of TLC.
“We should clean our new car,” I said. “There’s lots of broken glass in the carpet.”
I spoke in English with a distinct Spanish accent.
“It’ll vacuum up,” replied Pedro with a similar accent. “I rang the auto wreckers. They have a rear window in stock.”
“What about the paint on the roof?”
“We’ll try paint thinners. Or we can respray the roof if the paint doesn’t come off. Don’t worry. With just a little work our new car will be as beautiful as... you.”
I licked my lips nervously.
What if I stuffed up this charade and put them all in danger?
His hands brushed my shoulders, slid down my arms and lingered on my hands before letting go. Waves of warmth echoed from him to me and amplified as they returned to him. I forced myself to keep my train of thought.
“The American journalist. Do you think she really did steal military secrets?”
“Who knows? Who cares? She’s gone. And it’s our car now.”
“It’s a nice car. Nicer than we’ve ever had as a family.”
“Nice to cuddle you in... Perhaps we’ll make our next baby in it.”
I giggled genuinely at his unexpected comment. He laughed deeply. I was faintly aware that we’d both changed gears. Neither of us were feigning the deep breathing now.
Another genuine smile from him. At close range it was a deadly weapon.
I cautiously ran my hand along his chest... exploring the contours. Solid, warm flesh. Hard in all the right places. He responded with a careful caress on my cheekbones. His fingers followed the chain around my neck... He glanced momentarily at the emblem dangling from my chain, then let it drop... I drew a deep breath as his hands slid up into my hair, stroking the nape of my neck... I pressed him closer. Caressed his stomach... Enjoyed the unfamiliar sensation of corded muscles tensing beneath my fingers. His breath came out in a soft, moaning rush.
“We’d better put the brakes on...” he whispered.
“Perhaps later. After we clean the car...” I replied softly.
Ω
Later came.
We ate a picnic tea outside and watched the sun drop towards the horizon. I drank in my surroundings. Warm happy sounds. Children running along the sand laughing... Warm happy feelings... Katja and Dutchy holding hands. Reece and Prada cuddling.
Garden Island loomed to my left. A dark silhouette against the orange-tinged sky. We ambled away. Side by side. My fingers brushed his... Tentatively, but unmistakeably intentionally. Surprise mixed with pleasure reflected out of his eyes. He beamed warmly.
He fingered my necklace then examined it closer.
“It’s an unusual emblem on your pendant... It looks like a globe...a lightning bolt... a wing...and a sword and shield... Does it mean something?”
“I don’t know. Mum gave it to me when I went away to college. It was hers - years ago. And the one my brother wears belonged to my Dad.”
“Right.”
He nestled my head in his palms, then kissed behind my neck. An unexpected wave of pleasure drenched me from head to toe. I pressed my body close to his. Every point of contact a bonfire. Hands started to roam. I shivered in response as his han
ds skimmed lightly across my pelvis. I agonizingly restrained them.
“Sorry. I misread your response,” he said apologetically.
“No you didn’t misread it,” I sighed. “It’s just that my brother seems to have this sixth sense whenever I stretch the rules... He either rings up... or turns up... And I get sprung.”
“So I should expect to meet your brother shortly then?” he grinned.
I giggled girlishly.
“Sorry... It’s hard to explain... We’ve got this abstinence until marriage code of conduct in our family. Dad and Mum say it’s important to get to know the person spiritually before you get to know them physically and all that... It’s such a drag.”
“Well I think you should respect the values your parents have installed in you. It’s not easy being a parent. I speak from experience.”
“Well it’s not easy being a responsible young woman either. You know... Striking the balance between experiencing life and sitting at home playing it safe to keep your parents happy. And I speak from experience.”
He laughed heartily. It took years off his countenance.
“Being chased by militants is your idea of experiencing life Hope?”
“Things kinda got out of control,” I admitted.
“Would you like to genuinely sell us some of your possessions? That way you could buy an airline ticket home to your parents. You’d be safe there.”
I caught his eye and shook my head slowly.
“If you’d made that offer when I first arrived I’d have jumped at it Pedro. But something’s happened inside me in the last few days. I’ve grown to love Petrina like she’s mine. And I feel safe here with you. Actually it’s more than safe... I feel... complete around you. I know I’m not explaining it very well. But it’s like... it’s like I am home...”
Ω
Pedro approached Dutchy with a sober expression.
“I need to talk Vader.”
Dutchy smiled knowingly.
“Do you think it’s a coincidence I’ve met Hope?”
“Coincidences are God’s way of remaining anonymous Pedro. Perhaps He wished to introduce you to another woman who is likeminded and shares your love for Petrina.”
“But I didn’t ask for someone to replace Maria.”
“God is the Giver of good things. Sometimes He likes to surprise us.”
“Hope made my heart soar the moment I lay eyes on her... And I’ve hardly slept thinking about her... She makes me feel so young... so full of optimism again... But I have to be realistic... She’s ten years younger than me. And she’s never had a serious relationship before. What if her family frown on our relationship?”
“Maria was older than you. Did we frown on that Zoon?”
Silence. Katja joined them.
“Would it hurt you Moeder if I remarried? I never want to hurt you.”
“It would be a good thing for you and Petrina.”
“More future Codetalkers!” added Dutchy.
Pedro smiled faintly and rubbed his creased brow.
“That’s the other thing. I need to be careful who I remarry. Who I give my heart to. I like Hope a lot. But becoming further involved with her could jeopardize all our lives. And our work.”
“Why?”
“Hope’s necklace. She’s wearing the insignia of the U.S Airforce Security Service... She claims it was given to her by her mother. And that her brother wears one given to him by their father. Do you think that’s a coincidence also?”
Dutchy and Katja exchanged thoughtful glances.
“Most enlistees who worked for the Security Service knew about the Codetalkers. But only a handful knew where they were trained and even less know we still exist today and currently operate out of Western Australia.”
“I like Hope very much. But we know she’s a spy. What if she’s really spying on us? We’ve told her we converse in Istro-Romanian. What if she was after information about the code and she’s worked out it’s based on Istro-Romanian?”
Dutchy shook his head.
“It’s true she’s sitting on a mountain of secrets Zoon. But I don’t think she’s gathering intelligence on us. Nevertheless, now we’re resettled, it’s time to get proactive. Contact your scientist friend - the one who knows about E/M weapons. See if he knows why Luan or Tarapaca might be in Western Australia hounding a young woman. And I’ll update the other Codetalkers. And see what I can get out of Hope...”
Kind words can be short and easy to speak,
but their echoes are truly endless
-Mother Theresa
Dutchy contacted several of his children on the H.F. Informal foreign-speak. Full of laughter. Then Pedro triggered a cell call and started tapping away in Morse. Someone replied back. Pedro responded. The intense exchange of Morse continued. Dutchy listened in. Their expressions grew serious as the minutes ticked by. I grew bored and ambled outside...
Ω
“Sorry to wake you Sir. A Morse message is coming in on the Australian frequency. We missed the first part of it because the man finishing his duty happened to be waking the man starting his duty when the message started. But Charlie’s taking it down now. So we should get most of it.”
“Well part of a message is better than none at all.”
“Sir - I’m sorry I didn’t organize to have a team of two on duty all night as Article 16.9 recommends. You said to ensure the frequency was monitored 24/7, but we only touched on surveillance at the Academy, so I didn’t realize until now that Article 16.9 should really have been taken as a directive.”
John Cunningham smiled.
“Well everyone else on your roster started out as a ditty bopper, so they knew that anyway. Even if you didn’t.”
“Ditty bopper?”
“Ditty boppers worked for the U.S Airforce Security Services during the cold war era. They chased those Morse dits and dahs all over the ether and intercepted and transcribed messages. The unbreakable rule was, someone was always in front of that console 24/7 - whether a directive had been given or not.”
“Thankyou Sir.”
Silence. Ryan went to say something then hesitated.
“Is there something else?”
“I’ve been wondering... Yesterday morning...You could have pulled Section 30 on me before the civilians attempted the bridge. Why didn’t you?”
“I came close to doing so, because I had no idea of the capabilities of the civilians. But then I saw the team’s display of initiative as they prepared to cross the Pass without our help, and I decided to go with your decision.”
“Even though you knew my decision was poor?”
“Farliga Pass is not intended for civilians Ryan. Nevertheless this team of civilians are obviously benefitting from the experience. Particularly young Zac Canney. I’ve discovered why he’s a Cat 1 P & P and the courage you helped him find yesterday could save his life one day. So in that respect your decision was apposite.”
“I did something right?” beamed Ryan.
John noted Ryan’s response with interest.
“When the Australians finish their transmission, bring me back the decoded message in person...”
“Yes Sir. See you shortly.”
Ω
Twilight. I sat outside watching the waves gently lap the jetty. A shadow loomed over me. I jumped with fright and stifled my scream.
“You’re safe Dochter,” soothed Dutchy.
I exhaled noisily. Dutchy sank down beside me. I stared out at the silhouette of Garden Island. Fighting off my despair.
Silence.
“What would you do if you knew there was a catastrophe looming Dutchy?”
“Catastrophes are evidence of the whole of creation groaning Dochter.”
“Some are. But I take objection to avoidable manmade catastrophes. Like the Holocaust. And terrorist activities. And abortion... Einstein said, the world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing. I can’t look on an
d do nothing Dutchy.”
Dutchy nodded slowly.
“So is General Luan hounding you because you know about a potential manmade catastrophe?” he probed.
“Yes. But I don’t know how to contact the only person I know who might be able to help me stop it.”
“I understand.”
“The Morse message... Has Pedro’s friend heard of General Luan?”
“Yes. He wanted to know if you met General Luan in Haiti?”
“No... I’ve never been there. Zac has though.”
“Zac?”
“My brother. He was in Haiti with a team of geophysicists after the quake. They helped with the rescue effort... I wish I knew where he was Dutchy. He’d know what to do.”
Dutchy rubbed his chin contemplatively.
“So the person who might be able to stop this catastrophe is your brother Zac and he’s a scientist?”
“Yes. That’s why I came to the hostel. Zac made me memorize the address. He said it was a safehouse. I thought he might have friends there - scientists who knew where he was or friends he trusts. But they must have moved on by the time I got there, because there weren’t any scientists there. Just you guys. And I can’t contact Zac. And I don’t know who else to trust.”
A pensive silence.
“As children, Katja and I were hidden by Christians for three years. Transferred from safehouse to safehouse. I’ve never forgotten what it’s like to be hounded... And not sure who to trust Dochter.”
I moistened my lips.
“Dutchy - the scientist Pedro knows. Would you trust him if you were in my position?”
“He saved Pedro and Petrina’s lives. I trust him.”
“I don’t know how to send Morse code. Could Pedro send him a message for me?”
“What would you like him to say?”
“Tell him General Luan plans to interrogate the JORN network and use a sat based E/M weapon against a U.S warship while it’s undergoing maintenance here at Garden Island. On the 27th . At 9 pm. Except his demonstration could generate a natural disaster here in Perth - similar to the earthquake in Haiti. Because the Darling Scarp is a fault-line.”
Dutchy rubbed his bushy eyebrows with gnarled fingertips and pushed his aging frame into standing position.
“I must go and pass your information on to Pedro’s friend, before the grayline propogation band dissolves. Come inside with the others and we’ll light a fire. We’ll keep you safe, Dochter.”
Action springs not from thought, but from a readiness for responsibility.
-Dietrich Bonhoeffer
“Sir. A transcript of the message as you requested.”
John Cunningham briefly perused the message and whistled softly.
“Well now we know why they were in such a devil of a hurry to get out, it’s time to step in and assist them... I might just make a few phone calls to organize air transport back to Australia for them...What do you reckon? Does seven hours from now sound about right to you?”
“Yeah. Gives them another few hours shut eye, and time to have breakfast and a shower.”
John picked up Ryan’s change in attitude but said nothing.
“I was thinking,” ventured Ryan. “We could surprise them by joining them for breakfast. Wake ‘em up with the smell of bacon and eggs. They must be pretty short of grub by now.”
John Cunningham chuckled.
“What?” said Ryan a little defensively.
“You’re slipping up Ryan... I’ve violated Section 28 and you haven’t pulled me up. And now you’re suggesting we violate Section 26!”
“These civilians are trying to assist our country’s armed forces. And Mike’s helped me realize that the rules are guidelines - not hard and fast regulations. It’s important to exercise commonsense as a leader. Even if the rules need to be bent. Or broken...”
“You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that pup.”
Silence.
“Pop the kettle on.”
“Sir?”
“The kettle... You know... The thing over there on the bench that boils water.”
“But this is your private quarters Sir. I’m not supposed to be in here except to report to you.”
“The rules are guidelines remember? It’s okay to bend them. Or even break them...”
Ryan smiled cautiously.
“Would you like me to make you a drink Sir?”
“Do you like Milo?”
“Yes. I haven’t had it for years though... Since I was a kid.”
“That long eh? Top cupboard. On the right. Marshmallows are in the jar next to the Milo.”
“Okay.”
John Cunningham stoked the fire. Ryan brought the Milos over.
“Well don’t just stand there. Plonk yourself down and take your boots off.”
“My boots?”
“You can’t relax by the fire sipping Milo with your boots on.”
John waited until Ryan had removed his boots, then he pushed the footrests up. The lights dimmed, then went out altogether.
“The generator must have gone down. I’ll go see...”
“Relax. The lights are controlled with this remote. See? Bright light... candlelight... firelight... Dave installed the setup years ago. He reckoned it was mood lighting to romance Jen by.”
“Dave?”
“Lieutenant Colonel David Hopkins. He pioneered the leadership fitness programme here at the Farliga Pass. About 35 years ago... He focused on something which you can’t teach, but a good leader must learn.”
“What’s that?”
“Leadership by example.”
“Like Professor Canney’s been doing?”
“Ah ha.”
John dimmed the lights again. Silence. Ryan cleared his throat softly.
“I learnt something else about leadership today. Not from the Professor, but from you... It’s the responsibility of a leader to shape the debate. I watched you steer the conversation when Jed mouthed off. And take the pressure off Mike so he felt free to spill his guts. And you coaxed Paul to open up...”
“...and put the pressure on you until you finally vented off!”
“I wasn’t gonna mention that.”
“Why? Are you worried about a conduct violation?”
“Nah. You’ve got broad enough shoulders to handle a pup yapping at you.”
John laughed warmly and feigned a cuff at Ryan.
“You’re a different pup at night you know...”
Silence.
John waited, sensing his patience would be rewarded.
“I didn’t want to be assigned here,” said Ryan cautiously.
“I’d gathered that... Like to tell me why?”
Ryan hesitated.
“You’re about my father’s age. And I hate him.”
“Hmmm... I can’t do anything about my age... Out of curiosity though, why do you hate your dad?”
“He’d come home drunk and bash mum all the time. Until he...”
Ryan jumped to his feet. Lips trembling and fists clenched. John wordlessly grabbed Ryan’s hands and gently unclasped his fingers.
“Sorry I didn’t live next door to you. I would have helped you both out.”
Ryan looked self-consciously towards the door like a cornered animal.
“I... I have to go.”
“You’re free to leave. But if you stay, I believe you’ll leave free.”
John pushed the couch back into sleeping position. He unrolled two sleeping bags and joined them together to make a share bag then clambered in. Ryan stared at him uncomfortably.
“It’s not what happens to a man, but what a man does with the experience that matters. You can remain bitter or get better... The choice is yours.”
Ryan drew a noisy breath and shook his head.
“I can’t do what you’re asking me to do. It’s... impossible!”
“Hey, it’s kinda fun to attempt the impossible every now and then, don’t you agree?”
“But this is breaking every rule in the book!”
“I know. That’s why we’re doing it.”
Silence. John switched off the light. Ryan stared into the flickering flames and drew another noisy breath.
“You know... every accomplishment starts with a decision to try.”
Ryan warily climbed in next to John, distancing himself as far as possible from him.
“Well that took ya long enough!” chuckled a voice from the corner. “Are you homophobic or something?”
Ryan swore softly.
“Mornin’ Charlie... Looking for me?” asked John melodiously.
“Nah. I knew where you’d be. I was looking for your sack-mate actually... He was taking so long to come back I thought he might’ve been attacked by a drop bear.”
“Nah. Just Father Bear... There’s a lot of noise over there for this time of the night. What’s cooking?”
“Dutchy’s sent two messages on our immediate attention frequency. One is a request to advise all the code-talkers currently on assignments to use the replacement terms Baas for General Luan Ain Quong and Handelaar for Carlos Stefan Tarapaca until further notice...”
“Hmmm... That’s an interesting coincidence. What was the other matter?”
“It’s for the urgent attention of Kiviuq and Helen because Dutchy can’t raise them. Two of their P & P sleepers have got entangled in the Garden Island affair and will need backup...”
“Hmmm... Two interesting coincidences.”
“We’ve already acknowledged both Dutchy’s messages and acted on them. Rod’s awaiting a response from Kiviuq. And Paul’s monitoring the H.F.”
“Paul, eh?”
“Apparently he’s a ham enthusiast... He woke up during the shift change and heard the message coming in through his window. So he jotted it down to practice his Morse. Then he came over and timidly asked me if I’d check his transcript of the exercise. I explained the message wasn’t an exercise and we were grateful ‘coz we’d missed the start of it. He looked pleased as punch. So I invited him to join us for the rest of the night...”
“Paul’s helping you?” frowned Ryan. “But he was...”
Ryan’s voice trailed off.
“Go on,” coaxed John softly.
“He was freaked out when Mike and I came back from Malmstrom. He wanted us to hike out of the Park with him. He had his things packed and everything.”
“Hmmm... Did he tell Mike or you why he wanted to do a runner?” asked John.
“He found you and the others in an Electronic Security Command photo in the mess hall... And he also spotted you and Charlie with hippy hairstyles - swimming with some other hippies from the Security Services photos... He was worried that he’d discovered something classified about you all. But Mike said he was sure you would have hidden the photos if it was too classified. And then he asked Mike what he should do and Mike said, unpack.”
Charlie broke into a huge grin.
“Yes! We’ve finally found someone with Jen’s facial recognition abilities. And to think he slipped through our radar twice because of his blood group...”
“Third time lucky. He’s gonna need mentoring until he feels comfortable around us... I wonder if Mike would be prepared to hang around and help us? Paul obviously looks up to him...”
“Mike’s one jump ahead of you!” grinned Charlie. “After tea, Paul caught us out massaging each other in Jed’s room and tore out the door. Then he came back in, dragging Mike... Mike sussed us out for a while, then started copying what we were doing on Paul.”
“Way to go Mike! Did you join in the fun Ryan?” asked John.
“It was my turn to monitor the H.F after tea.”
“Would you have joined us?” probed Charlie.
“Maybe. Since Mike’s sixth sense said what you were doing wasn’t sus.”
Soft laughter. Ryan caught Charlie’s eye.
“You didn’t freak Mike out too much, did you Charlie?”
“Is your sixth sense telling you I did?”
“I still haven’t worked out the sixth sense thing. But I’ve worked out that Mike’s good at hiding his fear... You can’t tell it from his face or his voice. But his carotid artery gives him away. It becomes prominent and you can see it beating when he’s stressed. And he got stressed big time at dinner.”
“Picking up what others are feeling is part of learning how to tune into your sixth sense. What were you all talking about when you noticed Mike was stressed anyway?”
“It seemed random,” shrugged Ryan. “Mike asked Paul whether he knew what PR1G4 meant in the subject line of an email, and Paul told him it meant it was a priority 1 message from a 4 star General. And Mike choked on his coffee.”
Charlie eyed John with feigned rebuke.
“Well if that ain’t the pot calling the kettle black!”
John chuckled deeply.
“I just tossed out some bait to see if I could get a nibble... Sorry Ryan... Go on.”
“Um... Well then Mike drew a sketch on a serviette and asked Paul and me if we knew what it was. I told him I was pretty sure it was the ISRA insignia and he rubbed his forehead like he had a headache.”
Dancing eyes.
“And then what happened?”
“Then I went and got some more ice-cream, but I could hear Mike and Paul talking.”
“What were they saying?”
“Mike thinks Farliga Pass is really a secret training centre for the ISRA. And Paul thinks he’s right because everyone here seems to have a background in Intelligence.”
“So what do you think?” asked John gently.
“I think they’re both trippin’.”
“It’s okay to say what you really feel Ryan.”
Silence.
“I don’t get any of this!” blurted out Ryan. “This place is supposed to be a fitness retreat for Airforce personnel to de-stress!”
“You sound stressed, Captain!” tormented Charlie.
John stifled his grin. Ryan eyed him astutely.
“Mike and Paul are right about this place being a training ground for the ISRA, aren’t they?”
“Well... it’s more like a proving ground.”
“But it can’t be! Everyone’s so... unmilitary!”
“I resent that! We’ve been on our best military behaviour all week!” chirped Charlie.
“Your best military behaviour?” echoed Ryan tensely.
“Well... almost. Except for one minor slip-up Mike might’ve told you about. It was just a little horseplay in the bathroom... you know...letting off steam... We ain’t queer or anythin’.”
John grinned and feigned a cuff at Charlie. Ryan eyed the door panic-stricken and tried to bolt from the sleeping bag. Both men simultaneously restrained him.
“Bad idea to go into flight mode around here at night pup,” advised Charlie solemnly. “You might fall down a cliff and break your neck.”
“You can’t make me to stay here with you!” bristled Ryan, struggling to break free.
“We can order you to stay here Captain... but we’d prefer you to choose to stay here with us,” replied John gently.
Ryan stopped struggling and drew several calming breaths.
“All previous directives rescinded Charlie. I need your help pearl harvesting.”
Charlie laughed roguishly.
“Shove over Baby Bear. Big Mama Bear’s hopping in too... Pearl harvesting you say, John?”
“Yep. A pearl is a beautiful thing that’s produced from an injured life. This particular pearl was produced by a father who kept using his kid as a football whenever he tried to defend his mother.”
“How do you know that?” blurted out Ryan.
“I looked over your medical records before you arrived and noticed evidence of nine fractures to different parts of your body. I thought that was excessive given you’d never been in active combat, so I snooped a bit and discovered there was no record of you having been treated or hospitalized for any of the fracture
s...”
Ryan’s lips trembled. Charlie raised his eyebrows.
“By this stage I was curious, so Fiona and I contacted the family doctor nominated on your enlistment documents. He told us your mother was dead following a domestic violence incident... And that you’d run away from your father as a twelve year old... Five years ago...”
Ryan’s backlog of fury and pain came out in a sudden, gut-wrenching sob.
“Well that explains a thing or two,” said Charlie compassionately.