Awakenings #3
“I thought I was ready for that,” Brady said softly, feeling the need to apologize.
“Why? Why would you be?”
Brady turned his head and squinted a little in the sun. “Because you all saved my life twice,” he said with a laugh. “I’m guessing there was a reason Eric was there with the handy cans of olives.”
Ace grinned. “Well, that was all Ernie and Eric, but yes. I can see how that would be ‘us’ to you.”
Brady grunted and shook his head. “What are you?” he asked.
Ace stared at him, visibly nonplussed. “An auto mechanic and small business owner,” he said, with such absolute sincerity that Brady laughed.
“Well, yes, but….” He waved his hands. “You’re also a crime syndicate?”
Ace frowned. “Well, I don’t know about that. I mean, some of us have made a living criming, there’s no doubt about that, but a syndicate?” He gazed thoughtfully at the garage. “Sounds awfully organized for what we do.”
And that caught Brady unaware. “What do you do?”
Ace glanced at him. “Well, it varies. Say, maybe, we see an RV with a bunch of terrified kids in the back. We might run that thing down and make sure the greasy buttcrack driving that thing has claim to them kids. And if he doesn’t, well, we’ll see they get returned to the city they were stolen from. ”
Brady felt his eyes bulge as something very similar to that tickled his lizard brain from the news. “True story?” he said, gasping.
Ace grinned. “True story.”
“What happened to the greasy buttcrack?”
Ace grimaced. “It was not my fault he grabbed my hand while I had a gun pointed to his head. I’d been planning to turn him over to Jason, but I’m guessing the desert sort of ate him.” He shuddered with distaste. “And probably threw him up again.”
Brady let out a bark of surprise. “Why Jason?” he asked, suddenly very curious about Burton and his CO.
“’Cause they’re military.” Ace shrugged. “I don’t rightly know which branch, but me and Burton go back to the desert. He was Marines, but he got recruited into Jason’s unit. Very hush-hush and shit. I’m just a mechanic—I got nothing to do with that shit.”
Brady blinked. It had not occurred to him that Ace and Sonny had seen action, and he realized that this was a sign of his own myopia. “What were you doing in the desert?” he asked.
“I was Master Sergeant in my second tour,” he said matter-of-factly. “Sonny was a new recruit. After he got out, we came out here to start our own place. He wanted to build me a race car,” he said, almost nostalgically, “and I … well, wanted him.”
It was the first really personal thing Ace had said about himself and the little termagant probably beating the hell out of a chassis in the mechanic’s pit.
And Brady felt a sudden emptiness when he thought about his dreamy weekend with Eric. I wanted him. Was that enough? Given the enormity of what sat behind him in this tiny house, was wanting somebody enough to change your entire world view?
But Master Sergeant in the Army….
“That’s the training officer, isn’t it?” Brady asked.
“I mustered new recruits,” Ace acknowledged. “Helped them get their bearings. Made sure they knew which end of the gun went in which direction.”
Just like he had with Brady, Brady realized. Just like he had with Eric.
Brady took a deep breath then, and Ace spoke up, sounding surprisingly diffident.
“If it helps to know, I killed them men,” he said.
“If you gotta call someone and tell them—say it was me. Give the others a chance to bug out. Give me a chance to get Sonny settled. But please don’t let that phone sit there,” he all but begged.
“We—I—did it to keep kids safe. Don’t let more of ’em get used like that. ”
Brady heard the note of begging in his voice and turned toward him. “Why?” he asked, needing it.
Ace’s handsome, proud face grew stark and bleak.
“I know someone who was put in a box like that,” he rasped.
“And part of him ain’t never coming out.
Every one of them kids lost something they can’t get back.
And some of ’em’ll deal with it. But some of ’em…
.” Without meaning to, Brady was sure, his hazel eyes flickered to the garage.
“Some of ’em’ll spend their whole lives climbing out of that well. ”
*Plink.* There went that last piece, falling into place.
“I won’t say anything,” Brady murmured, thinking it wouldn’t matter if he did.
Ace may want to take responsibility for it, but if Brady had ever seen an opportunity for “I am Spartacus,” it was in that living room back there.
“Who would I tell?” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.
” He looked Ace in the eye, all of the dreaminess, the denial of the last two days slipping away.
“I went into law enforcement wanting to help people. I came out here because I felt like it was the only place I belonged. You’re right.
We can’t let the phone—and all its implications—just float out here in the desert like a bomb in a bottle.
If I want to help people, I can’t depend on my uniform to do it for me.
” He let out a little sigh, and Ace’s hand on his shoulder was reassuring.
“It’s hard,” he said softly, “to let go of the gods you had as a kid. To drop the rails you thought hold the world on track. We all got a few of those. You want to talk about rails, talk to Jason Constance. You know those kids I was talking about?”
Brady nodded dumbly.
“His own people tried to kill him because he couldn’t just let that shipment of trafficked kids go get sold.
You want advice on how to let go of your old gods, he’s the one to ask.
But all of us, in one way or another, had to freefall to this spot out here in the desert.
We’ll do what we can to make your landing soft, but…
.” He shrugged again, and Brady saw that haunting vulnerability cross his face.
“Just let us know if you’re gonna turn on us.
We can shelter the innocent if we need to. ”
Brady’s mouth twisted. “Looks like you’ve been doing that for a long time already,” he said. “Don’t worry, Ace. No matter how this falls out, I won’t do you all dirty.” He took a deep breath of sun-warmed dust. “And I’ve gotten about all the air I’m gonna get. Let’s go make a plan.”