CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

Three hours later

February 7 — 1:45 A.M. MDT

Saturday early morning

Denver, Colorado

 

Alex closed the clothes dryer door and returned to sorting clothing. Since she was injured, her household job was laundry. For the first two years, laundry was the only household task she could manage in a wheelchair, on crutches, and finally with a cane. Over time, she enjoyed the concrete accomplishment of clean clothes.

They’d set the new laundry room up for her with two washers, two dryers and a myriad of laundry bins. Alex still liked to pile all the clothes on the floor. Right now, the laundry room was filled with piles of dirty clothes, towels, and bedding. Her first load rhythmically thumped in the dryer.

Alex smiled. Nothing felt like home more than the laundry room’s warm moist air and the thump of the dryers. Knowing no one could hear her in the laundry room, she turned up the Breaking Benjamin CD playing on her laundry boom box.

She had one firm laundry rule: don’t expect me to go through your clothing. Of course, she still went through it. Raz’s clothing was always free of personal items. Max and John were pretty good at remembering. Cian’s work clothing had its own bin. He left the bakery covered in yeast, flour, and whatever else. At least he didn’t arrive that way. Troy always forgot to check his clothing. She regularly found his wallet, keys, money, and whatever else.

After starting a washer full of bedding, she tossed the jeans one at a time into the second washer. Reaching into the stack, she felt something hard. She growled. Troy must have left his wallet again. She dug through the jeans until she found the offending pair. Sticking her hand in the jeans back pocket, she found a small one inch by two inch handmade notebook. The outside cover was cut from a Playboy magazine. Alex flipped open the notebook to find…

She wasn’t sure what.

Even to Alex’s expert eyes, the letters were in some kind of gibberish. She was about to toss the jeans in the washer when she realized they were her jeans.

Where had this book come from?

Reaching into the offending pocket, she found a white plastic card. Credit card sized, there was a series of letters and numbers written on the plastic in black sharpie. Picking up the notebook, Alex checked the card against the notebook. The plastic card was some kind of key for the cipher used in the notebook. The card had the world ‘Rosetta’ written down one side of it.

Alex set the plastic Rosetta card and the notebook on her folding table. Where did she wear these last? She noticed the dirt stains on the knees. She’d worn these jeans to Jeb Scully’s farm. Jeb must have stuck these in her back pocket when she fell.

She shoved the rest of the jeans in the washer and turned it on. Grabbing the card and notebook, she jogged barefoot across the basement to her secure office. She glanced down the basement hall to the room where Colin was sleeping. Hoping not to wake him, she worked her way through the office’s security. The sound recognition couldn’t hear her whisper singing. She had to belt out her favorite song, ‘When you wish upon a star,’ to get the lock to open.

She slipped into her office. As silently as she could, she went through the security to open the antique armoire which held her computers. She grimaced when her computer beeped and echoed a transmission to Buckley.

“Sir?” the relief Sergeant asked.

“Fey,” Alex said softly. She waited for voice and facial recognition to confirm her identity.

“Yes sir,” the Sergeant said.

Unlike Alex’s Sergeant Dusty, this young man was an Air Force Sergeant. He worked backup for all the officers at Buckley. He liked the job because he could take care of his four children during the day while his wife worked. Or that’s what he told brass. Alex knew he used the cool quiet nights to work on his first novel.

“How’s the book coming?” Alex asked.

“I’m stuck,” he said. “I’ve been playing spider solitaire. I was happy when you came online. Working with you jogs my creative juices.”

“I inspire you?” Alex asked.

“The weird crap you do does,” the Sergeant said. “Sir, I mean…”

Alex laughed. Embarrassed, the Sergeant coughed into his hand.

“What can I do for you, sir?” the Sergeant asked.

“I need all of Private Margaret Peaches’s files,” Alex said. “She’s been working on some translations for me.”

“Sir, Private Peaches is a Marine,” the Sergeant said. “I’m unable to access their system.”

Alex grimaced. She’d forgotten.

“Anyway around that?” Alex asked.

“Not without waking brass, which you usually don’t want to do,” he said. “I thought you had admin privileges at the Intelligence Center.”

“I do,” Alex said.

“I bet it’s up at the Intelligence Center,” the Sergeant said. “That’s where most soldiers store their confidential stuff. I mean, most regular soldiers. I mean…”

Alex laughed.

“Check the Intelligence Center,” the Sergeant said. “I bet you’ll find it there.”

“I’ll do it,” Alex said.

“Lieutenant Colonel?” the Sergeant asked.

“Yes?”

“Thanks,” the Sergeant said.

“For?”

“You’ve inspired me again.”

Alex laughed.

“Shall I leave the com open?” the Sergeant asked.

“No. Thank you, Sergeant,” Alex said. “Type fast.”

“Yes sir.”

The screen went black.

“That’s weird,” Colin said.

Startled, Alex spun in her chair. Her hand went to her handgun at her sacrum.

“Sorry,” Colin said. “Surprise you?”

“Scared the crap out of me,” Alex stood to hug him. “What are you doing awake?”

“I have to be at work in a bit,” Colin said. “I was doing my morning devotional when I heard you open the office.”

“Where are you working?” Alex asked.

“I work for Cian and Eoin.” Embarrassed, Colin shifted back and forth on his feet. “I bake bread. Yeast bread.”

“You? Really?” Alex asked.

“Why not me?” Colin’s defensive response made her smile.

“I don’t remember you ever cooking anything,” Alex said. “I thought you were like me – kitchen challenged.”

“I happen to know you can cook,” Colin said.

“I…”

“No need to lie, Alex,” Colin said. “I won’t tell anyone. I just won’t eat anything you cook.”

Alex wiggled her eyebrows. Colin’s mouth dropped open.

“I’ve already eaten stuff you’ve made?” Colin asked. “When?”

Laughing, Alex shrugged. He play punched her. Alex batted back at him. They laughed.

“Coffee?” Alex asked.

“Nice set up,” Colin said.

He looked around her office before he plopped down in one of the leather chairs next to the gas fireplace. He flicked on the fireplace.

“Yeah, they did a nice job,” Alex said. “Don’t you need to get to work?”

“I have about a half hour before my cab comes,” Colin said.

“You were talking about bread,” she said.

She gave him the pot to fill with water from the filter near him. She filled the machine with beans and a coffee filter. He poured the water in the machine and gave her the pot.

“They’ve wanted to make bread for a while,” Colin said. “They also wanted to open a café with tables and stuff. Instead of getting a loan, they took me on as a partner. I’m starting my own line of breads and they get their café. The construction starts in a week or so.”

“I bet you had to run that by the advisors,” Alex said.

“Of the trust?” Colin asked. “Yeah. They have no love for the drunk, but they saw the bakery’s investment potential. You probably know this, but Cian and Eoin are doing really well.”

Alex nodded.

“I feel great investing in something so… real. We don’t make a lot of loaves yet and it’s only been a week. But we’ve sold out every day.”

“Yea!” Alex cheered.

“I’ll tell you though,” Colin said. “It’s going to be hard for me when you leave for a mission.”

Alex nodded.

“I miss the life, Alex,” Colin said.

“What’s your discharge?” Alex asked.

“Technically, I’m not discharged,” Colin said. “I’m on leave.”

“How does that work?” Alex asked.

“It’s a volunteer Army,” Colin said. “Unless you really, really want out, you stay in. I file papers every six months or so. I probably have a few more rounds before they’ll force me to retire.”

Colin shrugged. Alex poured two cups of coffee.

“Where’s your milk?” Colin asked.

Alex pointed to the small refrigerator on the shelf below the coffee pot. He took out a quart of milk. Opening it, he smelled and grimaced.

“I guess we’ve been in Washington DC a long time,” Alex said.

“I’ll get some,” Colin said.

Before she could respond, he ran up the stairs. She barely had time to sit down again when he reappeared.

“You’ve been working out,” Alex said.

“I run every day,” Colin said. “Trece told me last night that we’re lifting today.”

She stood to take the milk from him. “Thanks.”

“I do the grocery shopping,” Colin said. “I bought this for you. It’s the right kind, isn’t it?”

“Thanks,” Alex nodded. “It’s perfect!”

“I’ve never been grocery shopping before living here.” Blushing, Colin shrugged. “I like it.”

He returned to the leather chair. Alex sat in the chair next to him.

“How’s filling your team going?” Colin asked.

“We’re close,” Alex said. “We need another medic and a Homeland Security agent. Wanna sign on?”

Colin laughed.

“How’s sobriety?” Alex asked. “How long has it been now?”

“Thirty-eight days,” Colin said. “Counting today, which I’m not supposed to do. In a couple days, I’ll have been sober longer than since I started drinking at twelve years old.”

“How do you feel?”

“Good,” Colin said. “And sad most days. I work from three to eight in the morning. Julie drops Paddie off around eight-thirty. I spend the days with my baby boy. I go to a meeting with childcare then we play and have lunch and nap and…”

Colin shrugged.

“Cian said Julie comes over after work,” Alex said.

Colin nodded.

“Eoin or Cian take care of Paddie while we talk,” Colin said.

“Talk? That’s not quite what Cian said,” Alex laughed.

“Trying for polite,” Colin shrugged. “She comes, but she always leaves, Alex. She hasn’t stopped the divorce. I just hang on. I know I should do something but…”

Alex held her hand out to her brother. He smiled and took her hand.

“You feel too guilty,” Alex said.

“I feel really guilty,” Colin said. “And, I know this is what’s best for me. I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I know I have to get sober. I’m going to meetings. I go to therapy once a week and that group three times a week. I… It’s what I need.”

“Give it some time, Col,” Alex said. “I know thirty-eight days seems like a long time, but it’s really not that long.”

“I know,” Colin said. “Thanks.”

“While you’re feeling all grateful and stuff? Max and I found a supplement routine that’s supposed to support your sobriety,” Alex said.

“How disgusting is it?” Colin asked.

“Fairly,” Alex laughed. “But the research is significant.”

“I’ll try it,” Colin said. “Anything to support my sobriety.”

Colin drained his coffee cup.

“You aren’t up in the middle of the night in your super secret office to hear my woes or talk about my sobriety,” Colin said. “Plus, I have to get to work. I’ll see you around eight.”

Colin walked out of the office.

“Col?” Alex got up to follow him.

Colin turned toward her voice.

“I’m really proud of you,” Alex said.

She held her arms out and he held her tight. There were tears in his eyes when he pulled back.

“Good luck at work,” Alex said.

He raised a hand in goodbye and ran up the stairs. Alex refilled her coffee cup and sat down at her computer. Tilting her head to the side, Alex realized she knew where Margaret kept her translations. Margaret had translated all of the Fey Special Forces Team journals and kept them in a location on the Intelligence Center server. The relief Sergeant was right. A quick trip through the mainframe and she found what she was looking for.

Alex pulled the plastic Rosetta card from her pocket. Sure enough, the card translated Mike Scully’s gibberish into language. She worked on the first line of the Playboy covered notebook. Nothing, but more gibberish.

Drinking her cup of coffee, Alex stared at the plastic card. With her mind on the card, she got up and refilled her cup and made another pot. She stared at the card so long that the letters and numbers seemed to vibrate. Then, unbidden, the letters and numbers appeared to move around the card. Each letter rotated two or three positions. Alex blinked and the letters and numbers returned to their original positions. If she stared long enough, her mind reordered the card again.

Alex took out a yellow leaded pencil and wrote out the new decipher key. She smiled. This was it.

She translated the first line of the Playboy covered notebook.

This is a letter from Mike to… She felt goose bumps form on her arms and back. Mike wrote this notebook to his dear friend and teammate, Alex. To her. Letting out a breath, she turned her entire focus to the notebook.

FF

Dear Alex,

If you’re reading this, I’m dead. Either that or Jeb is an asshole. And we know Jeb is an asshole. But it sure is dramatic to write: if you’re reading this I’m dead. Ha ha.

If I’m dead, it’s not your fault. If the guys are dead, it’s not your fault. We made a choice. We were asked individually. And each one of us made a choice. It was an easy choice - stay together and risk being killed, or split up. What choice would you make? Right. Easy choice. Jesse wasn’t involved because he would tell you.

I can hear your voice: “But when did you make a choice, Mike?”, “Why would you do that?” “Why wasn’t I asked?!” “Why didn’t you save yourself, Mike?” Typical Alex questions. That’s why we didn’t ask you.

O’Brien asked me to write everything in my journals because who would expect me to have anything to say. No one. They are written in a cipher Jeb and I discovered in that barn of his. I modified it so he can’t read this either. I figured those idiot military translators would be lost. I hope I was right.

I never once doubted that my Alex could figure it out.

I’m writing this particular note to you because I love you. Because you restored my faith in people. Because you made me a better person. And more than anything, if I’m dead, there’s no one but you to tell my kids that I’m not such a bad guy. Please tell them that. When you’re done with the journals, will you let them read them? Maybe they’ll finally understand that their Dad loved them.

After all this melodrama, I better get to the point. You always thought we just did extraction. And we did a lot of extraction. But what you never knew was that the team had a side mission. If we’re dead, it’s because of our side mission.

I’m sorry for lying to you for all those years. I only fucked about half the chicks I said I did. Ha ha, you probably knew that. What you didn’t know was the rest of the time, I was working for O’Brien.

I bet you think the worst. You think we were doing something illegal, something horrible or even evil. You’re probably even crying right now. Aren’t you? If it wasn’t bad, why would we keep it from you?

But think, Alex, you know us better than anyone. What could we possibly be up to?

Somewhere inside, you always knew what we were doing. I’m sure of it. You’re too smart to have been fooled by us for so long.

NEVER forget or doubt how much we love you. Every one of us worships you, I know I do. I hope someday you can forgive us for not telling you. In the meantime, enjoy figuring the puzzle out. I know you will.

MScully

FF

Alex dropped her head on her arms and wept.

F