“Okay, now it sounds like you’re making excuses for him.”
Will shook his head. “No, only empathizing. Friends close, enemies closer, you know.”
Lauren’s eyes shimmered. “Do I. Dave would rattle that off every time he heard I was having an issue with someone in school. Worked every time, almost.”
“But that’s life, isn’t it?” Will pondered. “Look, how about this? Postpone your op and let me figure a way to get back at him for you. I’ll run it by the guys, and we’ll come up with something, reach a consensus, and present it to you before any action is taken. Sound acceptable?”
Lauren nodded and shrugged. “Acceptable? I suppose. But not the least bit gratifying.”
Will dropped the fully spent cigarette to the ground and smothered it. “But it’s safer for you, and it’ll keep your spotless record intact.”
“There is that. So what will you guys do to him?”
“Don’t know just yet. The unit has its own internal ways of dealing with bad apples. But you will appreciate the results.” Will paused to switch gears. “By the way, got anything planned for later this morning, say 0800?”
Lauren about-faced and adjusted her pack, preparing for her return trip home. “No…I mean, nothing other than the usual mundane daily routine.”
Will examined his freshly opened pack of smokes, gauging his desire for another. “You should come to the range with us,” he said. “We’ll be running drills there for a few hours, like old times.”
“Range?” Lauren prompted. “You mean Fred’s field?”
“I take it no one’s told you,” Will began. “We fixed it up a bit. Plowed the snow, added some steel silhouettes, a shitload of obstacles and such. Remember the Gauntlet?”
“The Gauntlet? Sure, how could I forget?”
“I know, right? I think we did a halfway decent job of cloning it,” Will said. “From what I recall, you were a force to be reckoned with in the original. Broke a few records.”
“Not all of them.” Lauren’s expression turned curious. “I’ve been running again, almost every morning. I’ve seen all the trucks parked there, but I never knew what you guys were up to.”
Will cracked a smile. “Why didn’t you stop and ask?”
“I don’t know.” Lauren shrugged. “Too many other things on my mind, I guess.”
“Well, consider this your official invitation,” said Will. “We’re training every day now. Like old times. Bet it’s been a long time since you’ve hit the range.”
“It has.”
“Then you’re way overdue.”
“Will Richie be there?”
“He might, unless he’s otherwise detained.”
Lauren smirked. “Do I want to know what that means?”
“Nope. Plausible deniability, remember? Don’t worry about Richie, we won’t let him bother you. I’ll be there, as will Neo, the chief, and a few other usual suspects.” He nudged her shoulder. “You should come. Show us you still got what it takes.”
Lauren exhaled, feeling empowered. “Okay, it’s a date. This is surreal—five minutes ago I was hell-bent on going in there and fucking him up…and you turned me. Are you a magician or a hypnotist?”
“Neither. I’ve just always been good with women.” Will smiled uncomfortably. “Talking to women, that is. Never did so well dating them…that’s another story. I’ve always been more of a…” He trailed off. “By the way, I’m puzzled. What were you going to do with the warm water?”
Lauren looked somewhat shameful. “Nothing…it’s not a big deal.”
“If it’s not a big deal, then just tell me.”
She delayed, feeling almost silly now. “I was going to put his hand in it…while he slept.”
“Why?”
“To make him pee himself.”
“What?” Will snorted. “You’re kidding me.”
Lauren shook her head in the negative.
“That really works?”
“It has every time I’ve tried it.”
“Interesting. Good to know,” said Will, now grinning mischievously. “Okay, practical joker, get out of here before someone sees you. See you at the range at 0800.”
Chapter 9
Alan Russell stirred, opened his eyes, and stared at the ceiling through blurry vision, the minute resonance of morning daylight entering the room. He blinked a few times to clear his sight, and the texture of the stippling became noticeable. Alan noted how new it was to him. It was only just beginning to become familiar, but so were many other things. The give of the pillowtop mattress springs beneath him, the softness of the bedsheets against his skin. The weight of the blankets covering them. The plushness of his pillow, and the electric warmth of the body curled next to him.
Alan rolled to his side. A head of glossy brunette hair belonging to his wife covered the pillow beside him. He ran a finger through it to emphasize its authenticity, prove to himself again that he was truly home and this wasn’t some dream. He was finally back with his family, his wife, and all he had lost and forsaken. It was difficult to believe and even more difficult for him to put into words.
Doing his best not to wake Michelle, Alan slid off the bed and rose. He rubbed his eyes and stumbled to their bathroom, placing his hands into a bowl of tepid water and splashing it on his face. He reached for a hand towel, dried his skin, and rubbed the matter from his eyes. Then, he looked upon himself in the mirror contemplatively for a moment and frowned. “You still look like hell. But you are a lucky man, Alan Russell. Maybe one of these days you’ll find a way to repay all the help you’ve received.”
Leaving the bathroom, he guided himself about the dimly lit bedroom to eventually find the closet. He dug through what few clothing options he had, dressed, then headed for the door leading to the hallway.
“Alan,” Michelle called to him, her voice a raspy purr, “where are you going?” She yawned. “What time is it?”
Alan halted and turned
