CHAPTER THIRTY-eight

 

Troy turned his back to the approaching woman. Facing Alex, he squeezed his eyes in an attempt to become invisible.

“Homer? What the hell are you doing here?”

Troy turned around to his sister. Feigning a smile, he held his arms out and the siblings attempted a hug.

“Alex, you remember my sister, Helen Olivas?”

“Jasper. God damn it Homer, our father’s last name is Jasper. Your last name is JASPER. You’re not here two minutes and you’re already starting something.”

“Helen, how delightful to see you!” Alex exclaimed. “Gosh, it’s been years. Do you know Bestat Behur? This is her boyfriend Zack Jakkman and my friend Andy Ramirez.”

Helen’s eyes went from Bestat to Zack to Trece then riveted back to Troy.

“I thought you were in Iraq.”

“You also think my name is Homer.”

“Your name IS Homer,” Helen said. “What are you and your… friends doing here?”

“I am on the diplomatic corps of Egypt, my home country,” Bestat purred. “I was invited to attend your father’s award ceremony.”

Helen sniffed at Bestat.

“I was invited to attend by my parents,” Alex said. “I happened to be in town and we thought we’d get together.”

“What happened to your arm?”

“Someone broke it for her,” Troy said. “Listen Helen...”

“There you are, Pumpkin! Your mother and I have been looking for you.” Patrick Hargreaves came across the terrace to them. “Troy, Trece, Zack.”

Patrick bent to kiss Bestat on the cheek.

“It’s always a pleasure, Ms. Behur.” Patrick blushed.

“Please call me Bestat, Patrick. It is always my pleasure to see you, General.”

Patrick slipped his arm around Alex in an open hug. She put her arm around his waist under his jacket. Her hand patted until she felt his handgun. Patrick kissed Alex’s cheek.

Troy stepped forward to shake Patrick’s hand. He stumbled and his hand pressed against Patrick’s chest. Body Armor. Patrick nodded.

“If you think you can come in here and mess things up...” Helen’s shrill voice jerked their attention to her.

“I came to celebrate my father’s accomplishment and see the family,” Troy managed.

“Why are you even in the country?” Helen asked. “Isn’t there a war going on?”

“The war? In Iraq? Why would Troy be involved in the war?” Patrick asked. “Have you ever been to Iraq? Afghanistan?”

Shaking his head, Troy shrugged.

“My brother is in the Army, Senator. He patrols the streets of Bagdad,” Helen said. Sneering at Troy, she added, “You can admit it, Homer. No one is embarrassed about it anymore.”

Patrick furrowed his eyebrows at Helen.

“Forget it, sir,” Troy said.

“Dahlia,” Alex said in Troy’s ear. She nudged Trece. “Twenty feet, dead center, across the terrace.”

“At the very least you could say, hello to your father,” Helen said. “Mom has a table over there. I guess you’ll have to sit with us.”

“Oh, Helen, I’m so sorry,” Patrick said. “I know you want to catch up, but we hoped they would sit with us. Troy is a good friend of our family.”

Helen visibly relaxed at the idea that Troy wouldn’t sit at the same table with the rest of the family.

“How is your research going?” Patrick asked Helen. Taking her elbow, he led her away from the group.

Alex watched Dahlia move across the terrace toward Troy. Her hips wagged and her artificially elevated breasts bounced under her silk shirt. Dahlia’s eyes flicked back and forth as if she hoped Troy would notice her. In spite of herself, Alex felt a wave of sympathy for this unhappy woman.

Slipping her hand into his, Alex squeezed Troy’s hand. He looked into Alex’s face then noticed Dahlia. He flushed. His dark eyes burned with desire.

Trece cleared his throat. “Guy coming fast, across terrace, nine o’clock.”

Troy jerked his head toward the person Trece mention. He groaned.

“What are you doing here?” the man asked. “Haven’t you hurt Mom and Dad enough?”

“Hi Hector, how are you?” Troy asked.

“I’m wonderful. My boys are smart and beautiful. I have a gorgeous wife and my research in aeronautics continues to gain international attention. What more could I want? How is the toilet cleaning, genius?”

“Still not getting laid?” Troy asked

Hector’s face screwed up with anger. He pushed Troy then noticed Dahlia. Hector held his arm out and Dahlia tucked herself under his arm.

“I enjoy my wife on a regular basis, Homer.”

Dahlia’s face flashed with surprise. She kissed her husband’s cheek to cover her surprise.

“Isn’t that right, dear?” Hector asked.

Dahlia gave a saccharine sweet smile.

“I heard you finally graduated from college,” Hector said. “NYU? I would think someone of your intelligence could at least get into a better school.”

Alex squeezed Troy’s hand. Raising his eyebrows, Troy nodded. His family hadn’t learned about his graduate degree… yet.

“Father was quite hurt by your actions, again. Did you honestly think you could keep your physics degree from him?”

Troy opened his mouth to say something, but Alex squeezed his hand again. He cleared his throat and looked away.

“Dr. Jasper,” Bestat said to Homer. “Pardon me. I heard you say you research aeronautics. Zack and I are passionate enthusiasts of flight. What is your research about?”

Like every man, Hector flushed at the exotic Bestat’s attentions.

“Are you pilots?” he asked. He shifted away from Dahlia.

“We like to think so,” Zack said.

“Well, my work is complicated...” Homer launched in to an animated conversation about his latest research project while Bestat and Zack listened patiently.

“General coming, three o’clock,” Trece said.

“I hope you’re sitting with us,” Dahlia whispered.

Dahlia stepped close to Troy. Her hands moved like airplanes looking for a place to land on his taut body. She finally clasped her hands in front of her.

“My book club is reading The Kite Runner,” Dahlia said. “I thought you could tell me about your experience in Iraq. It’s always great to have real life stories to share at book club.”

The blood drained from his head, Troy’s face blanched white. She fingered a button on his shirt. His eyes gleamed at Dahlia.

“Isn’t the Kite Runner about Afghanistan?” Alex asked.

“Afghanistan is a part of Iraq, Alex.” The woman looked Alex up and down with distain. “I would think you would know that.”

Alex opened her mouth then closed it. Dahlia’s hand moved to Troy’s chest.

“I’m sure Troy can teach me anything I need to know,” Dahlia said.

“Olivas, no way. I saw you standing over here and I thought to myself, ‘Damn that looks like Olivas.’ I had to come over to see if it was really you.”

Troy’s head jerked away from Dahlia. Seeing the General, he laughed.

“General Robinson,” Troy said and saluted.

“Whatcha doing here, man? This is pretty sedate for your taste.”

“My father is receiving an award today sir,” Troy said.

“That’s right. You’re Jasper’s youngest. I always forget that.”

The General’s eyes looked Dahlia up and down, and then saw Alex. He stepped back.

“Don’t hit me!”

“General.” Alex saluted.

“Hot damn, Alexandra. Did you have to go all MMA in the middle of downtown Denver? You’re every girl’s hero and every boy’s wet dream.”

“That was you?” Dahlia lip curled in disgust.

“Holy Crap, and Ramirez too. Good God, where’s the Jakker?” General Robinson looked around. Zack raised his hand in hello to the General. “Man, Olivas, the company you keep has improved since you started at MI.”

“What is MI?” an older woman asked as she drew near.

Troy kissed his mother’s cheek.

“Alexandra, it’s nice to see you again. How is Iraq?”

“Mrs. Jasper,” Alex said, “Iraq is a big place. It’s hard to say how a country with over twenty-eight million people is doing.”

Troy’s mother nodded then turned to Troy.

“I didn’t realize you were back in the country, Homer,” his mother said. “Dahlia, dear, would you get me a glass of wine?”

Dahlia raised her eyebrow at her mother-in-law. Turning to Troy, a desperate longing flashed across her face. Then as if it was never there, Dahlia’s face shifted to neutral.

“Yes mother,” Dahlia said turning to leave.

“You’re still screwing her?” Troy’s mother asked.

“No mother, I’m not. It’s nice to see you too.”

“Homer. I know things are uncomfortable between us but you don’t have to treat us like we have the plague. Some day, you are going to have to accept what you are and do something with your life.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Troy said.

He groped for Alex’s hand. Alex held his hand in silent support.

“What’s Troy supposed to do with his life?” General Robinson said. “I’d be damn proud of my son if he had done half of what Olivas has accomplished.”

“What is this MI, General?”

“Military Intelligence, Elizabeth.”

“General, we have come to terms with Homer’s decision to join the Army.” Troy’s mother laughed. “You don’t have to cover for him.”

General Robinson’s eyebrows shot up. He glanced at Alex then Troy.

“Elizabeth!” Rebecca Hargreaves came across the lawn to Troy’s mother. “I’ve been looking for you. How are you, dear?”

Rebecca hugged Troy’s mother. Over his mother’s shoulder, she crossed her eyes at Troy. Troy was so surprised he almost burst out laughing. Breaking off from the hug, Rebecca flipped her shirt a tiny bit showing Alex her Dragon body armor underneath.

“This is a lovely outfit, Elizabeth,” Rebecca said. “Now tell me, my son Colin, is about to have his first child. What do you think we should look for in a hospital?”

Rebecca took Troy’s mother’s arm and led her away from them. Alex watched her mother pretend to listen to Elizabeth Jasper’s hospital administration nonsense.

“That was close,” General Robinson said. “Hey, I heard you were building a team, Alex. Can I apply?”

“Brass says we have too many Army already.” Alex laughed.

“Crap. All the good spots are always taken. Olivas, call me before you leave town. Let’s get a drink. Alex.”

The General moved off the terrace and into the amphitheater.

“I hate to break up the happy dance,” Trece said. “But Alex, check out who’s over there.”

Alex followed Trece’s eyes to see her mother hug a pregnant woman. She was about to ask Trece what was going on when her mother bent to hug a man in a wheelchair... Ah fuck.

Wearing full dress Marine uniform, Heath Wheeler hugged Alex’s mother. Alex closed her eyes at the flood of pain and rage which washed over her. Heath, feeling their eyes on him, looked over at them.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Trece asked.

“That’s him,” Alex replied.

“Good that we came to this party, Olivas,” Trece said. “Yeah, real good.”

FFFFF

2 hours later

Tuesday afternoon

April 1 – 4:00 P.M. MDT

Red Rocks Amphitheater, Morrison, CO

 

“Why should I give a shit that your wife is pregnant?” Alex asked. “You know, they make pills to prevent pregnancy.”

“Alex,” Heath said. He moved his electric chair closer to her.

After the award ceremony, and lunch, Heath asked if he could speak with Alex in private. She refused but was brow beaten by her mother’s pleas of ‘He deserved a second chance, Alex,’ ‘Just talk to him, Alex,’ and ‘What have you got to lose, Alex?’

Watching Zack and Bestat wander away from the party, Alex agreed to listen. They moved to an area of the terrace near the parking lot. She had been ‘just listening’ for the last ten minutes. She looked at her watch and wondered how much time she had to give this before she could tell her mother she ‘tried.’

She sneered at her mother’s oldest friend’s son. Moving further from the party’s perimeter, she hoped he wouldn’t follow.

He did.

“What do you want?” Alex asked.

“I need a job, Alex. I can’t find work. I need to work. No one hires vets especially disabled vets. I can help you. I’m good at maps and intelligence. Plus, you need a Marine. You need me.”

“Like I need a knife in the back. Oh that’s right, that’s your specialty.”

“Alex… can’t we at least talk about this?”

“Ok, jerk-off. Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Forget it,” Alex said. She moved to return to the party. Heath rolled into her path.

“I meant which part,” Heath said.

“I searched for you, worked twenty-four hours a day for two weeks, finally found you, negotiated for your release, rescued you, and even held you when you cried. Dean saved your miserable life. And what did you do?”

“I told everyone I was saved by a Marine team.”

“Then you told your mother I left you in Iraq! I left you? Explain that.”

“I have no explanation, Alex,” Heath said. “None. I’ve talked to other guys who have spine injuries. They say the same thing. You’re so angry, so terrified, you…”

“Blame the people who saved your life??” She cut in. “Did you ever even consider your comments might have repercussions??”

“Not until I was subpoenaed to the Senate Hearing,” Heath said.

“I heard you had the nerve to get the tattoo. How dare you?”

“I’m trying to set it straight. I was rescued by the Fey Special Forces Team. The Fey saved my life. I say that to anyone who will listen. That’s what I said in the Senate Hearing. You would know that if you bothered to attend.”

“Oh. Sorry, Heath. I was in a coma. I couldn’t take a trip to Washington DC to defend my name.”

Heath blushed. He always forgot she was injured. In his mind, she was heroic and strong - strong enough to save him; strong enough to blame for not saving him sooner; strong enough to handle his tortured projections of shame and self-importance.

He was in surgery when the Marine information department announced his release, including his fabricated Marine saviors. Alex and her team guarded him until they saw the news report. When he awoke from surgery, they were long gone. He never saw the team again. They died before he let go of his pride, and the lie his pride insisted was truth.

“You wearing body armor, scumbag?” Alex asked.

“No, why would I...” He stopped talking in response to Alex’s hardened face. “What?”

Alex jerked as if he had grabbed her ass. Swinging her arm to slap him, she planted a kiss on the befuddled Heath’s mouth. Heath grabbed her arms in an effort to stabilize them but the wheelchair fell over backward to the concrete. They rolled into the parking lot.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” a male voice said. “We are asking people to return to the party.”

Using her right hand to press Heath against the pavement, Alex looked up at the man. He was tall and muscular. A black T-shirt with SECURITY written in white block letters stretched across his chest. He had an ear piece and a microphone. The machine gun in his hands was loaded with the safety off.

This was no Secret Service agent.

F