No News is Bad News #4
Simo went back into the kitchen and watched Xander, whose forehead was now resting against the wall.
He felt like giving his head a hard slam against the wall to knock some sense into it.
Everybody is too fucking emotional, too squishy inside anymore, he complained to himself.
At least this one has some balls when it comes down to it.
“Xan, come sit down.” He watched Xan pull his slumped shoulders up, turn red-faced, and take his former seat from this morning.
Simo pulled out a chair and sat down opposite him. “Take out your sidearm and field strip it.” He watched Xander pull it out and set it on the table. “I'm timing you. Go.”
Xander’s fingers stumbled around, disassembling the gun, then slowly got it back together. He checked the action and set it down in front of him.
“Again. Go,” Simo ordered.
Xander got through it quicker and a bit steadier. When he was done, he checked the action again and set it down without a word.
“Eyes closed. Go,” Simo ordered.
Xander stared at Simo in surprise.
“Do it!” Simo demanded.
Xander began; he had trouble with the barrel bushing and suddenly the recoil spring shot up and out of the gun. “Oh shit!” he yelped as it bounced off the wall behind him.
“Get it and start over,” Simo ordered.
Wordlessly, Xander did as asked. Starting again, it took him over ten minutes to get it all back together, the worst part being the reassembly. When he finally succeeded, he opened his eyes and saw Simo with his eyes shut across from him.
“Done finally?” Simo asked, slowly opening his eyes.
“Nea,” Xander replied.
“Feel better?” Simo asked.
“Yeah...”
“Good. Again, with your eyes open. I am going to tell you a story…” Simo ordered.
Xander shrugged and began the disassembly of the handgun. He listened as Simo switched to Greek and began telling his story.
“A long time ago, I knew of a man… this man was a great and fearless soldier. He was in the Sacred Brigade in World War Two; Google it. This soldier eventually trained the soldier who trained me… this man I speak of was revered with all the old Greeks. In his thirties, he was already a colonel. The military was his life and he loved Greece and was dedicated like no other. A new young king ascended the Greek throne in the sixties… along with a certain group of colonels, who all were afraid of this man’s reputation.
They feared he would get in the way of their planned coup.
He was sent to Britain as a liaison with the SAS, who originally had trained him.
There he eventually met a beautiful girl.
She was a young British aristocrat…” He paused and stared at Xander as he finished stripping the handgun.
“You ever hear this story?” Simo grumbled.
“No. I think I know a little about the Sacred Brigade from somewhere…” He watched Simo’s dark eyebrows furrow.
“Ok, I’ll finish my story then. Yes, British aristocrat… the story used to be well known. They both fell madly in love. Her family threatened to disown her over her love of this simple Greek soldier.” Simo sat back and stopped his story.
“So that’s it?” Xander cocked his head at Simo.
“You sure you don’t know this story?”
“No. Why are you telling me this story? Are you trying to tell me something about, uh… Halo?”
“Does the name Kominos or Hanworth mean anything to you?”
“No. Should it?”
“Yes,” Simo gruffly replied.
Xander squinted hard across the table at Simo, who looked lost in thought. “So why tell me this story?”
Simo shook his big head. “First, who showed you that judo throw the other night?”
“My father did. Why?”
“So your father was in the military?” Simo calmly asked.
“Yes, he said all young men had to join. He did like at thirteen, I think.”
“What did he do?”
“All he would tell me is that he was the cook…” Xander squinted hard at Simo again. “Why?”
Simo leaned his big head close to Xander and growled, “Your father was no fucking cook in the army. His fucking picture hangs at the Military Academy to this day, and he could have been General of the Army.”
Xander sat back, surprised. “Wait, are you telling me my father is that guy in your story?”
“Yes, Shit for Brains. Your mother was not born Kate Lillian Middlesex… she was born Katherine Louise Hanworth, daughter of Viscount Hanworth. Middlesex is the county she was born in…”
“What the hell?” Xander shouted. “My mother worked in their restaurant. No way could she be that person!”
Simo leaned closer and stared hard into Xander’s eyes.
“Your father was Colonel Kostas Kominos, and he left it all and gave every fucking thing up for your mother! He loved her that much. He fucking came here, changed his name, as did your mother, and started fresh, then had your sorry ass late in life.”
Xander sat back with his mouth hanging open. “He… he told me he would tell me about the army one day.”
“Your mother, she so loved your father, right?”
Xander nodded, still open-mouthed.
“So what happened to your mother after your father suddenly died?”
“She… she fell into a deep depression, hardly talked. Then… she died soon after him.”
“That’s right… Xander Kominos. Think about what broken hearts do to women like that.” Simo abruptly stood up, shook his head, and muttered in English, “I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” He shot Xander a hard look, turned, and left the room.