Chapter 28 #2
“He got a famous Rex Clade throat punch.”
Leon rubs his throat with widened eyes. “Oh, yeah… That oughtta do it.”
There’s a knock at the door, and he hops up to answer it.
“Oh, sir. Hi, come in.”
I crane my neck to see Malcolm walk in, undoing the top buttons on his white shirt.
“Hey!” I shout from the sofa, wincing at the singe of my muscles as I lift myself to sit.
“I saw you had a free evening. I was wondering if you might be available for a meditation session?”
“I always have time for meditation with Malcolm.” I climb to my feet with a grin.
Malcolm points to my lip. “Oh, dear. What happened here?”
“I got caught in combat. But don’t worry, I’ll get the asshole back tomorrow,” I say, following him towards the door, but turn back to Leon, sticking up a middle finger with a childish taunting face, leaving him to chuckle.
We sit beneath the fruit trees of the orchard, shielded by the shade, with the sweet scent of fruit warming in the sun.
The trees’ white blossoms leave confetti along the grass, still green and unbleached by the summer sun.
We sit across from each other, cross-legged with straightened backs, a nostalgic pose that reminds me how lucky I am to be home.
I pull air into my lungs and slowly exhale with the clearing of my mind, thinking of all the times I meditated in the city, and now I’m now back with my dad.
I peek over, and he’s sitting there, his closed eyes resting behind his glasses.
My concentration wanders, trying to gather my thoughts like water in cupped palms, but they slip through my fingers, wreaking havoc.
I breathe deeply, attempting to smother my fears for our future, the weight of the Eve Project, and the hopelessness of Joey.
But they don’t go quiet. Instead, they ricochet through my mind, and I roll my neck in circles as I struggle to silence the carnival.
“How long has it been since you last meditated?” Malcolm asks.
I peek to find him peeking back. “Hmm, the last time? … Probably the morning of my incident in the city. What is it—a month now?”
“I bet you know exactly how long it is.”
With a sigh, I say, “Fifty-three days.”
“How are you doing with that?”
“With what?”
“With Joseph, of course. No man is perfect, but it sounded like you were perfect for each other. Smith was very fond of him.”
Our gazes meet while I fidget in my spot, perhaps reacting to the bucking sensation within my chest. “Yeah. You would have liked him. He’s a hard worker, a farm boy. And he is… He was … just … the best friend.” I struggle to finish the sentence as my voice wobbles.
“I can only imagine, my little sparrow. I hope there comes a day when you stop punishing yourself.” He leans forward to hold my hand, his thumb stroking Joey’s ring, which I have been twisting.
“Yeah… I hate myself for thinking about it, but then I feel guilty when I don’t.”
“Well, that will get better with time. You are not at fault. He made his own decisions.”
“I know, but it doesn’t make me miss him any less.”
“Your heart’s bigger than this world will let it be. You’ve got to trust that we can change that.”
And I do trust it. With only a week to go until this mission, I cannot wait to take our first swing at Beckett.
“Hey… I’ve been meaning to ask, but … I hate how indulgent it sounds.” I shuffle towards him, so our crossed knees meet, knowing we have completely given up on the meditation part as I tuck my hair behind my ears. “With how much you found out about Miko, do you…”
“Do we have that kind of reach in the drudgery droves?”
I nod, blushing at my selfish request.
He tilts his head, those sympathetic eyes answering before his words do.
“Sparrow… There are tens of thousands of men in these camps. We could not and would not spare the resources to break out one man from a government detention centre. No matter how great he is,” he says, tucking his glasses into his shirt pocket.
“No… I know… I just wanted to ask, so I knew it was a definite no.” My mouth falls into a frown, quivering and dimpling as I hold back from crying.
“But how about this? I will invest my best efforts in finding him, to ensure he is safe and well. Then, hopefully, you can settle better. Although I’m certain they will look after him in there.
He’s clearly a talented asset, a valuable resource.
I can imagine they have him tinkering with machinery, a much more comfortable position than most.”
My cheeks lift, pushing a single tear off balance as it escapes down my face. I appreciate his opinion, whether or not it’s true; it’s a believable story that I will gladly tell myself from now on.
With three days before the mission, the teams are called into the church to discuss the details.
Ren, Kris, Roscoe, and Malcolm will be in our group as we infiltrate the largest R&R compound.
A second team will infiltrate another compound simultaneously.
As I sit among them, I think about how small a group we are and how daunting the prospect of it all is.
But when Rex talks—wow—he commands the room like a true leader, meticulously detailing without a wasted moment.
He makes me believe that we can do this––that I can do this.
And this is why he leads: he can give a speech with no revision.
This all comes so naturally to him. I feel myself leaning in as he reiterates the importance of detaining all the rangers we encounter and keeping it non-lethal, even with the sergeant on base, the only armed ranger within those walls.
After subduing the rangers, we only have to help evacuate the women to a larger extraction team, who will bring them back to base before moving them to The Haven.
The next few nights come and go in a flash.
On the day of the mission, I wake with an uneasiness.
The blurred lines of my buzzing mind make it difficult to differentiate between nerves and excitement.
Although we have one of the biggest extractions, we are lucky to be within an hour of the compound, so we aren’t due to depart until sundown, while other teams have been setting off since sunrise, leaving the camp eerily quiet.
A lot of them have emptied their trailers, bunking in with one another as we free up space for the women and children who will return.
They’ll be resting at the camp before we move them onto The Haven in smaller groups.
Atlas prepares our supper, a polenta with a creamy tomato sauce.
Each mouthful zings against my taste-buds, reminding me that I am hungrier than I believed while I devour my serving.
I savour the tartness of the sauce as it grazes over my tongue, the sweetness of the polenta, the peppery snap of basil.
I leave for my room to prepare my hair and have been practising how to wear it.
With the edge of my comb, I perfectly part my hair down the centre and fumble my fingers like Mama Cooper taught me, plaiting a tight French braid on either side of my head, with the pair falling down the back of my neck.
I sit for a long while, staring into the mirror.
The woman in the reflection looks healthy.
No more bruises, she’s regained some weight …
but there’s something about her eyes. The smile doesn’t quite meet them yet.
The weight on her mind keeps her jaw tight.
A sadness is there if you look for it, and I wonder if it will ever heal, like those injuries she once had.
And if she never finds her love, will her heart ever mend? Or is she destined to live a half-life?
There’s a knock at my door, and Leon steps into the doorway. His company is much more welcome than my own.
“How you doing, kid? Ohhh. Fancy hair!” He strolls in and bounces onto my bed while I apply lotion to my face.
“I’m okay. Well, I’m not okay. I’m so nervous, I could puke. What are you doing with your hair?” I lift the length of his thick locks between my fingers.
He tucks it behind his ears as he hovers his nose over my tub of lotion. “Well, I don’t know. Shall I tie it back? It’s never been this long while I can’t wear my cap.”
“Here. Let me.”
This broad biker boy flinches and whimpers like a child as my brush pulls through his hair, pinching strands into order, and while I’m busy, he clears his throat. “Hey, kid… I wanted to let you know, we’re glad you’re with us. You know that, right?”
I make a small groan as I continue to weave his hair. “I know, but I can’t help but think I’m holding you all back sometimes.”
“Well, that’s wrong. Your fathers wouldn’t let you work infiltration if you weren’t capable. You’re far too high a prize for the world if you were going to get yourself hurt.”
“I know. I think it’s the nerves. I’ve never done this before, like you guys.”
“Pfft. I was literally sick with nerves the night I came to fetch you.”
“Shut up! You were not.”
“I was! Those first few nights, I came by the bar, and you weren’t there. And when I did find you, I couldn’t stop thinking, ‘What if she doesn’t come? What if she can’t swim? What if she drowns? What if I drown?’” he says in a mocking, high-pitched voice.
“Pfft. I can’t imagine you ever struggling.”
“Yeah, we all do, and I bet the legendary Clade brothers even doubt themselves. You’re going to be fine,” he says, and I weirdly feel better, knowing he’s less confident than I thought.
“Ta-da!” I say, pulling him up from the bed and pushing him before my mirror. A French braid runs down the centre of his hair, bundling the remains into a small bun.
His face grimaces initially, but then he tilts his head, checking it from different angles. “You know what? I think I like it!” he says, rushing out of my room to show the other guys.
The time comes for us to leave for the church.
Kris and Ren are already inside, and Rex looks particularly stretched.
I can’t imagine he’s had much rest all day, and he won’t get any until the mission is over.
Roscoe and Malcolm step in, injecting encouragement throughout the group, and within minutes, they pump us up, getting ready to go, with one last task: dressing in our mission attire.
Rex grins as he passes me mine. “Ready to suit up, Miss Clade?”
I feel the Kevlar suit before I recognise it, with red stripes running down the arms. It is confirmed with a clunk of the helmet atop the pile, my freckled skin mirrored in the full-face visor.
For one night only, we’re going to be rangers.