It had been weeks without word from the mercenary, whom everyone now called "Merc." Lynn's concern grew by the day; they should have crossed paths with him by now. Meanwhile, the war at the front lines was intensifying. Russia was systematically absorbing the lands just beneath its old borders. Israel and Jordan, now pressed tightly against Russia's new land partitions, standing as the last line of defense for the southern nations. To meet this existential threat, Jordan had pushed its borders outward—stretching from the northeastern corner of Israel all the way west, and swallowing parts of Iraq that had not yet fallen to the invaders. In a desperate bid for security, Jordan had even reclaimed Baghdad and seized most of the surrounding lands reaching the eastern coast.
Standing off by himself, Jimmy contemplated the conflict and the weight of life altogether. For those fighting on the front lines or shielding the defenseless, the days bled together in a grueling, repetitive blur. But for Jimmy, the violence had become deeply personal. He couldn't get enough time with Avril; lately, her new unit seemed to be the most sought-after outfit in the theater. It made sense—she led an impressive squadron, unparalleled when it came to mastering logistics on the fly. Jimmy was fiercely proud of his sweetheart as she proved herself one of the finest leaders on the field. Avril was his anchor, a sudden force who had disrupted his world and brought a fragile sense of order to this godforsaken landscape. What were the astro-spiritual energy beings thinking—or however Lynn explained the gods—to drop Avril into his path in the middle of a slaughter? All he knew was that his life was transforming, shifting completely in the most bizarre place imaginable.
Jimmy, Griff, and a handful of soldiers stood outside the underground base. Their ride—an advanced, cloaked aerotruck—had dropped them off before taking off on a solo reconnaissance flight. For a moment, the only things visible in the stark landscape were the shadows of the men, a few patrol vehicle shadows, and a lone security shack casting the largest shadow against the bare ground. Inside the shack, two guards peered through the glass, watching dust swirl violently from an invisible source, against the cast of the faint shadows of the cloaked militia on the ground. The heavy iron door of the base rolled shut just as a second, fully visible aerotruck descended from the sky, hovering exactly where the first had been.
The moment it touched down, the men deactivated their cloaking tech, appearing one by one as they rushed to board. The heavy back doors swung open, swallowing the team into the cargo bay. As the doors slammed shut, the aerotruck instantly vanished, its cloaked rotors beating the fine dirt into a thick cloud as it lifted off.
The mission was a welcome distraction for Jimmy. It kept his mind busy while Avril's unit endured the bloody front lines, recovering the wounded and the dead. But when they finally arrived at their destination, his brief sense of relief evaporated. The village they were tasked with patrolling and bugging felt entirely eerie—local villagers currently streaming down the main road, fleeing the village as fast as their feet could carry them.
"Right here is perfect," Jimmy called out, thumping his fist against the driver's headrest. He double-checked his ammo clips and leaped from the transport as soon as it settled into the ground. His mind immediately drifted to central Jordan. What he wouldn't give for an assignment out there, just to see Avril in person to say what was in his heart. For now, they were trapped behind rigid command-center frequencies, speaking in cold, coded military jargon while leaving everything that mattered unsaid. At least they had a connection. He tapped his wrist display, verifying the secondary power cells on the listening devices were fully charged.
"We'll meet here in fifteen. If you're not here, find your own way back," the driver called before taking off to distribute Griff and the others around the outskirts of the panicked town. Fifteen minutes. Plant the audio bugs and get out. Washington's geeks had really delivered this time with an undetectable, battery-operated surveillance system. Of course, ever since the French solved the Tesla coil mystery and untethered the world from the electrical grid, wireless tech had exploded. Everyone on earth had joined the internet buying frenzy for a Truman Regulation Device to power their homes. The mass consumer purchase repeatedly crashed the French website before the company settled down to sell warranty packets. But as Jimmy looked at the chaotic streets, free energy was the last thing on his mind—he just needed to survive the next fifteen minutes.
Cloaked and ready, Jimmy prowled the perimeter, dropping bugs along the paths the soldiers were bound to march. The back of his neck prickled. The oppressive sense of a gaze locked onto him grew so heavy it forced him flat against a wall to hide his shadow. He ducked into the nearest doorway, pressed hard against the frame to keep the harsh noon sun from throwing his shadow. As he crossed the threshold, the world vanished into black.
Avril pulled at the invisible body that's shadow draped across the floor, dragging it into the room and closing the door. Feeling around for a wrist, her fingers brushed against a cold, metallic watch. She tapped the interface to override the cloaking app, instantly recognizing the standard-issue ally gear. As the shimmering camouflage dissolved, Jimmy's motionless body materialized. She hadn't seen him since his mission to Istanbul, and the change in him was striking. His shirt sleeves strained against newly built, heavy muscle. A sudden, familiar warmth bloomed deep inside her at the sight of him. He looked incredible. Her fingers traced the hard line of his bicep before moving to the thick, solid curve of his neck, which felt twice the size she remembered. Biting her lip, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. She deactivated her own cloak before gently shaking him awake. Jimmy stirred, blinking away the fog as his vision cleared. Avril hovered over him, pressing a finger to her lips to signal for silence. He glanced down at his bare arm, realizing his camouflage was gone, and quietly nodded.
"Did you just kiss me?" he asked, vaguely remembering the distinct feel of lips pressing on his. "And was that you who hit me? And where's my watch?" Instantly, he realized that the room was totally unfamiliar. And for a fraction of a second he was confused.
"Ssshhh," she cautioned quietly." she whispered and smiled her sweetest smile. "Shalom, my American sweetheart." Her soft, but callous hands replaced his watch and touched his face lovingly.
"Yes," he muttered. His head still throbbed from the blow that had knocked him down, and his mind reeled. One second he was falling; the next, he was dropped by magic right into his desire—right next to his girlfriend. He scanned the room, but saw no sign of her troops. Avril was entirely alone. Part of him wanted to rage at her recklessness, but the rest was just glad she was alive. Watching her stand so brazenly defiant in the chaos captivated him. He knew right then he'd never control her, and he loved it. Her focus was always locked on the current mission or the next battle. Yet, even here in the middle of chaos, he knew he was the center of her world.
"We cannot be heard." She placed her finger on his lips as she whispered into his ear, her body draped over his.
"Yeah," he whispered back, his hands moving to pull her down. She stiffened and wrenched free from his embrace. Shadows flickered against the gap in the closed door frame. Moving instantly, she threw herself across Jimmy's chest, and turned on both of their cloaking devices. Light bent around them, erasing all but their shadows from the room. Outside, the shadows lingered. Keeping her eyes locked on the doorway, she dragged her finger through the dust on the floorboards, tracing out an attack route. Jimmy watched in fascination as geometric tactical lines sliced through the dirt, appearing to manifest out of thin air.
Avril touched his face again. He cradled his head into the phantom warmth of her hand, goosebumps rippling down his neck. She loved him—the truth of it flared raw and certain between them, matching his own desperate affection. He ached to see her with his eyes, to catch even a glimpse of her. But then she took a sharp breath and stood. The weight of her invisible body lifted. He could only listen as she pulled away, her frantic breathing cutting through the quiet as she tried to clear her thoughts. She was here for a reason, but she was keeping it entirely to herself.
Avril snapped back to reality; she had lost them. The Russian squad was gone. She couldn't afford to lose their trail—not after what they did. They were the ones who had annihilated her entire platoon weeks ago, leaving her as the sole survivor. Her mission now was simple: lock down their coordinates, call in a strike, and watch command rain hellfire upon them. An eye for an eye—the true warrior's way...wasn't it? Yet, she knew the Essenes would deeply condemn such mutual violence.
She gripped Jimmy's hand, pulling him up and guiding him out of the building under the cover of their invisibility. Clamping his hand firmly behind her back, she forced him to stay a step behind her as they emerged into a street of total chaos. Stricken villagers sprinted past, both had to return to visibility to avoid the onslaught, moving from side to side to avoid being trodden down. The Russians had torn through hours earlier, not just to brutalize the people but to torch what remained of their homes. Flames engulfed the surrounding structures, choking the air with thick, heavy smoke. Driven by instinct, Jimmy yanked his hand free and started recording the devastation on his iPad.
"Come on," she said, noticing he had started to drift away. "You must find your people." It wasn't until he finally pocketed his device that he let her guide him forward. She needed to get him to safety so she could resume tracking the soldiers.
"I'll help you get back to your unit first," Jimmy offered. His chest still tight from the sudden closeness of her body, he wasn't ready to let her go. Who knew when they would next be at the base together? He leaned into the weight of her grip on his wrist as she navigated the chaotic streets, slipping past villagers who ran oblivious to their presence as they cut against the crowd.
"You must go... I am fine," she said. Just beyond them, she was relieved to spot the flying vehicle from the base. Waving her arms frantically until she caught their attention, Avril yanked his arm to hurry him. The vehicle veered closer as the multitude of people streamed around it. It hovered and landed as the hatch slid open, lowering a set of steps. Griff jumped out to greet her the moment he recognized Avril. Behind her, Jimmy nursed the back of his head where she had struck him, grumbling as he trudged toward the airtruk.
"What happened to him?" Griff asked, noticing the goofy look on Jimmy's face as he held his head.
"We were to avoid Russians; they come." Avril nodded, then told him about their brush with the enemy without disclosing her real reason for being on the site. She answered his questions and then looked at Jimmy. "He is fine. Confused, but not what he thinks, it is not this." she quickly added, suddenly overtaken by embarrassment at the unprofessional nature of that last kiss. Griff noticed the peculiar look that crossed Avril's face. Maybe there was something to Lynn's concern over their relationship. Were either of them ready for the emotions they seemed to be heading into?
"Oh," Jimmy said with an instant grin, "what does 'it's not this' mean? What 'this' do you think is going on?"
"You would jeopardize mission. I do...that. I kiss you to keep quiet." She said flatly.
"Wait a minute! You're out here on a different recon?" Jimmy asked her, his voice tightening. "I thought you were out here to help us."
Griff stepped back up the stairs and into the vehicle, hoping the couple would follow. Turning to assist Avril into the vehicle, Jimmy stopped when she pulled away. "Aren't you coming?" he asked.
"No, not now," she answered, gently nudging him up the steps. Jimmy climbed aboard but refused to sit. He stood braced in the open doorway, leaning out against the sudden backwash of the starting rotor blades.
"Come on," he called to her, straining to stretch his hand out a second time. The driver called back for an all-clear, and the heavy vehicle began to roll, pitching forward as it prepared for a vertical lift-off. "Wait, she's coming with us!" Jimmy screamed to the front. But as the craft lurked violently into motion, his grip failed, and he fell forward out of the vehicle.
Griff's shout cut through the noise: "Stop!" He lunged out of the cabin and into the beating air of the rotors, desperate to reach Jimmy and haul him back aboard. Avril didn't look back. She pushed forward into the street, forcing her way through a sea of terrified people trying to escape the village. Her quest was the only thing that mattered now. In a heartbeat, she activated her cloaking device, vanishing from the chaotic world around her.
"Hang on, goddammit," Jimmy continued to shout as he went to run after her.
"We can't," Griff said as he grabbed his arm.
"We're not abandoning her," said Jimmy, wrenching his arm loose. Before he could protest further, the driver waved back at the two.
"We have to leave the area NOW," he called back to them. "Getting reports of more enemy soldiers coming our way."
"Hang on," Griff called back angrily, "I'm trying to get his dumbass back on board."
Back at the base, the vehicle docked in the motor pool, and Griff jumped out to grab their packs and weapons from the rear hatch. Lynn met them at the vehicle, greeting the team with familiar fist bumps before taking an armload of rifles. Jimmy slid out of the airtruk, racked his pistol's slide to catch the chambered round, and slipped the bullet into his shirt pocket. Weapon cleared, he led the group out of the garage. Behind them, Lynn handed her burden to a corporal and turned to grab the remaining pack she knew belonged to the bewildered looking man. Following Jimmy up the metal stairs, the three cut through a maze of long corridors toward their quarters in silence.
Once back in their own space, the trio began their end-of-day routine, starting with prepping for the mandatory debrief. Afterward, they transitioned to cleaning their weapons and prepping for the next patrol. The men drank beer and shot the breeze while Lynn enjoyed an iced coffee, all waiting for their turn to shower. Surprisingly, Jimmy didn't complain about the upcoming interview. He had even brought back food from the cafeteria for them to eat while they waited. Yet, when they finally sat down with the counselor, Jimmy remained on edge. He avoided the table, pacing the room and picking at his food. While he occasionally interjected to clarify his tactical decisions on the field, the worried expression never left his face.
When Generals Taylor and Sefira entered the quarters, the Holy Trio stood out of respect. Everyone in the room remained standing as the briefing began. They went over the reconnaissance step by step, the tension palpable. One by one, camera packs were surrendered to be downloaded directly onto the main server. No one dared transmit updated reports over the base's intranet or across the ethos while they were outside of the base. In this war-ravaged world, a single data leak could be fatal.
The original plan to block outside intervention seemed foolproof: Israel and its allies buried miles of cable deep beneath the earth to keep their governments securely tethered. It was a flawless strategy until China traced the lines and began working to engineer a back door into the system. With the physical cables compromised, encryption was the only remaining alternative, but even digital walls had always been fragile.
The truth was simple: everyone had a price, and the internet was the ultimate marketplace. What was once a taboo dark web reserved for the absolute worst of human existence had transformed into a mainstream free-for-all. Now, bottom-dwellers openly peddle their unseemly wares to anyone surfing with the right keywords. Hacked analytics apps constantly spilled personal and corporate data into the open. Even as U.S. legislation tightened around data privacy, the digital crackdown only strangled independent creators and legitimate online livelihoods—while the government reserved its counter-infiltration help strictly for its own corporate partners.
The global war began without warning. Launching a massive, unprovoked campaign, Russia and its allies blindsided the nations bordering the Chinese and Russian frontiers, shattering any hope for diplomatic peace talks. Humanity sat paralyzed in the wake of the initial shockwaves. Then came the panic. As northern forces targeted specific cities, citizens fled in mass, hysterical exoduses. The enemy's tactics were brazen; they deployed swift, aggressive platoons to test the outer defensive perimeters, wreaking havoc wherever they managed to breach the line.
When Avril finally made it back to the base a few days later, she was eerily silent about her absence. Jimmy didn't press for answers. He was too intoxicated by the sheer relief of her return. Still, he had to wait; her first day back was a blur of back-to-back de-briefings that kept her locked away until she collapsed into her own bed. When he finally held her the next morning, the agonizing wait vanished. She was safe, and nothing else mattered.
In the morning, after breakfast with her love, Avril ran down the last corridor that reached the quarters of the Holy Trio. She burst into the room and stood for a moment without saying a word.
"Guess who is here?" said Avril with a wide smile. "Your friend, the one you call Merc."
"Oh, finally..." Lynn said, jumping up and rushing toward the door, leaving behind everyone else in the room.
"Something happened that I missed?" Griff asked and turned to Jimmy who stood beside Avril and just shrugged his shoulders.
"Get it while you can, that's what I always say," Jimmy retorted, "how long has her husband been dead? It's about damn time."
"She's not like that," Griff said, hurt by the thought of Lynn turning to someone else instead of looking at the whole picture between the two of them. "The only other explanation is that she's going to figure out if he wants to join us... and we will no longer be referred to as the Holy Trio. I never liked that name. People should just call us Jimmy, Lynn, Griff... and Merc." Griff didn't like adding a mercenary to the roster, but he trusted Lynn's judgment if that was what she had been thinking for the past few weeks. He just wanted to know exactly what skillset Merc brought to the table that Lynn felt was so important. Hopefully, it wasn't a love interest.
"Hey, I'm not splitting the shares any thinner. The money better come out of someone else's pocket."
"She'll probably do the same thing she did with you, cut it out of her own shares." Griff sneered.
"Fuck you. She saw skills in me she ain't gettin' anywhere else—skills you yourself can't match."
Griff gave him a sideways glance. Instead of arguing, he decided to focus on finding out where Lynn was meeting Merc. He stood without a word and headed for the door, with Jimmy and Avril following close behind.
Avril kept her mouth shut as a cold knot formed in her stomach. Was she just a fling to him? If so, she needed to pull back immediately. Hearing Jimmy boast twisted the knife, shattering her confidence. How had she misread him so completely? The vibration had felt undeniable. Now, everything they shared was open to question.
As they walked down the hall, Jimmy noticed Avril's heavy silence. She hadn't said a word since she came in to announce that Merc was back. The tension radiating off her told him this was about much more than just a standard mission update.
"Something wrong?" he asked Avril under his breath. Surely there wasn't trouble in paradise already?
"When you leave," she said in a small voice. "When you are home, what happens with us?"
"Why don't you come to Denver and find out for yourself," the words just spilled out of his mouth, and yet, he had no regrets.
Anyone close to Jimmy knew those would be the last words he'd ever say to a woman unfamiliar with his lifestyle. Dumbfounded, Griff paused, glancing back at the pair in surprise at the invitation. Without a word, he spun around and continued down the corridor toward the motor pool.
Lynn found the mercenary and the American general huddled over a 3D map, reviewing the chaos at Jordan's northwestern border. The buildup of enemy forces was staggering. Russia was priming a brutal opening salvo: a sudden airstrike followed by a rain of ballistic missiles. Then would come the land invasion, a sweeping tide designed to swallow the border whole. If the report was right, the Kremlin intended to leave no one alive who refused to bow to Mother Russia.
"This isn't necessarily a setback," General Taylor said, his eyes scanning the glowing tactical map before them. "If they exhaust the bulk of their firepower in their barrage, we can flank them. We'll swing around from Baghdad through northern Jordan and punch right through their lines. The objective isn't total annihilation—it's to reclaim enough territory to force a retreat. We'll coordinate allied airstrikes to hit them just before our ground troops cross the perimeter. Once we barrage their positions with our own missiles, let's see how eager they are to hold their ground."
"They're pretty ruthless," Merc said as he and the General heard a knock at the conference room door. "Hello," he nodded at Lynn as she stuck her head in the door, and then returned his attention to General Taylor.
"Okay," the general said as he finalized the conversation between the two of them and shut down the map, "we'll talk about this more after I've briefed everyone else." He left the room abruptly, leaving him with the militia leader.
"Sure," Merc half smiled. He wouldn't be waiting on them. These people had until he left the base to get with him, after that he had other places to be. He was answerable to no one but himself. His strict values would not allow him to sway from his original goal: getting survivors to safety. He had already saved a handful of Jordan military personnel, but it was the family tribe from Turkey that had hired him for protection that tore at his heart. Every damn one of them was dead. Merc shook the thought out of his head and turned to Lynn. It was what it was.
"Hey," he said with a nod. "I have something for the kids."
"What's that?" Lynn asked and met his nod with a smile.
He patted his leg, and the sharp click-clack of tiny nails echoed against the floor. A wire-haired terrier trotted out from behind the console, looking up at the mercenary with boundless optimism.
"This dog," he muttered, shaking his head. "He's been on my tail since I left Jordan headquarters. I can't shake him, and in my line of work, he'll get me killed if I don't find him a home."
"Yeah..." Lynn hesitated. "I don't think we need a dog underground."
"Well, it beats me having to shoot him if he keeps following me."
"You wouldn't...shoot a dog...would you?" Lynn asked in total disbelief. He won't shoot people, but he would shoot a dog. A dog that obviously liked him.
"Well, if I tranquilized him, I would have to leave him there and I've seen many of these Russian soldiers kill and eat dogs." Merc said flatly. "Either way, if he doesn't find a home, he'll end up dead. I'm just not going to prolong his suffering."
"Shalom," one of the Essene elders said, appearing near the two, causing both Lynn and Merc to jump. "You have a dog for the children?"
"Where did you come from?" asked Merc. He swore there was no one but Lynn and himself in the room after the general left. He would have seen the man come in through the only entrance to the room, just as Griff, Jimmy and Avril were doing right then.
Merc turned away from the rest of the team as they came through the Conference Center entrance, his attention caught by the older, bearded man in desert gear. The man's fatigues weren't military, but rather one-piece jumpsuits that remarkably managed to fit everyone who wore them. They reminded Merc of the desert-camouflaged Bedouin uniforms used by the French Foreign Legion in the late fifties and early sixties. The families around them were dressed in a similar style to the elders.
"I was in meditation when I was summoned to discuss the dog that was here for the children."
"Oh?" Merc asked, suspicion thick in his voice. "Who summoned you? I just got here and no one but the general knew about this dog."
"I summon him," Avril said, picking up her pace to join the elder and the mercenary. "We return from above ground, we saw you and dog. You to give to children, I thought perfect—children should have dog. I have one at my home." She offered the Essene elder a nervous smile, desperately trying to keep Merc from pressing the issue of how her teacher had managed to appear out of thin air without a cloaking device.
"Coming from the girl who made a pet of one pissed off scorpion," said Lynn, teasing her Israeli friend.
"You're going to have to stay here," Merc whispered, kneeling until he was eye-to-eye with the dog. "Guard the children for me." The dog held his gaze obediently—until a pack of children came clamoring down the metal stairs. The racket echoed through the garage and past the command center, straight into the conference room. Instantly breaking his stay, the dog bolted out of the room, past the soldiers in the command center and through the steel doors, barking frantically. The motor pool erupted into a chaotic mix of joyous yaps and childhood squeals, drawing amused smiles from the mechanics nearby.
Griff didn't say a word as he watched the exchange of communication between his partner and Merc. Avril and Jimmy had already followed the dog out of the room. Slowly, Griff walked closer to Lynn as she sadly smiled at him..
The Essenes and their family members were deeply sparing with their emotions, so it pleased Lynn to hear the children laugh. Most attempts to communicate with them were met with total silence. Even the children, after their first real bath, seemed to fall into a perpetual state of melancholy. Seeing them play felt so much more natural to her.
"You were never going to shoot the dog," Lynn said in a huff as they walked out through the command center together, Griff behind them. Stopping just for a moment to watch the dog and children play.
"You don't know that," Merc teased.
"I do, I know you would never hurt anything if you didn't have to." Lynn challenged him.
She grinned, holding the Essene elder's gaze. Merc looked between them, catching the tail end of a silent exchange—a mutual understanding that he wasn't a threat to the dog. Both stayed quiet as the Essene leader gave a final nod, turned, and headed back toward the base's sleeping quarters. Griff walked up past the bearded man, to stand with Lynn and Merc.
He didn't say a word as he watched the exchange of communication between his partner and Merc. Avril and Jimmy had already gone over to play with the dog. Slowly, Griff walked closer to Lynn as she sadly smiled at him.
"Are you sure we can even keep this dog?" Lynn asked, she seemed to be having difficulty accepting the care of a dog. "We can't walk him down here, not really. We probably don't even have healthy food for the little fella."
"We have table scraps," Griff interjected, "but the poop may be an issue."
"I was given a message that the dog will save your life," the elder said as he approached Jimmy and stopped, "he may be your lucky charm." And with that, the elder walked on to the steps and up and out of sight.
"Well, that settles it then," Jimmy said as he walked up to Merc and slapped him on the back. "The dog stays with me...and Mozel...and Avril." An instant smile on Avril's face let him know she was pretty happy to be included in his little world. "The civilians want us to keep the dog and the children can play with him after their studies."
"Do you think it's wise to have that much interaction with your charge?" Merc asked. He knew the cost of getting close. The family he'd joined in Turkey had been blown to literal bits, curing him of intense emotions. Or so he'd thought. This militia team was already taking up too much of his time, drawing him in against his better judgment. He was digging for roots that were better left unburied. It was time to move on. The dog was safe. There was nothing keeping him here.
"Come up and eat something," Lynn offered, noticing that he fell into an uneasy silence. "I really think it would be a good idea for you to just rest here, get something to eat and take advantage of a shower, some clean clothes...we do have extra clothes?" Lynn turned to Avril for a response who nodded her head yes and smiled at Lynn.
"Please eat. They are serving meal now," said Avril as she grabbed Jimmy's hand, motioning everyone to the dining room. They would steal kisses in the hall as they made their way to the commissary. "We get you clothes. You go to eat."
Merc had forgotten to eat while at the Jordan consulate. He knew the only way to report what he saw was to reach the war government on the front lines. Immediately following his debriefing, the Jordan military transported him to the underground base. He turned down a chance to share rations with the soldiers who escorted him. His only concerns at that time were delivering his reports and finding his new friends to present them with the friendly little dog.
"Come with me!" Lynn called out, jumping into action and steering the group toward the cafeteria. She linked her arm through Merc's, guiding him along while raving about the buffet. It was a massive step up from the mystery-meat lockers at her last base, and she couldn't stop talking about how nice the new living quarters were. Her partner kept up with the conversation, but Merc went quiet, staring ahead as he retreated entirely into his own thoughts.
Griff found Lynn's sudden friendliness jarring; being so talkative on a contract wasn't like her. Usually, she was consumed by strategy, always planning how to make their company the best in its field. She only vocalized those softer thoughts at home. When they volunteered at the food kitchen, she'd chatter about her nieces and trivial daily updates. And the barbecues—God, she loved to talk outside. It was a good thing she'd quit drinking, though. Alcohol never suited her, transforming her into a drunken 'Chatty Cathy.'
Karaoke was another pastime that vanished from their get-togethers. Lynn used to need liquid courage just to step up to the mic, never quite realizing she was tone-deaf, drunk or sober. Besides, she was much better company now that she was sober. The dark days of hangovers and volatile recovery moods were gone. It was a wise move—a path Griff knew she would have taken eventually, so long as she wasn't dwelling on her husband's death. Or perhaps it was the life she had shared with him that triggered the sour moods and deep, contemplative silences that drove her to drink in the first place. Either way, Griff wanted to help her leave the past behind. He wanted her to stop drinking, stop mourning her husband, and start imagining a future with him.
From the moment they began building their business, Griff felt a deep pull toward the unstoppable force he called his partner. She was a master negotiator, easily matching the sharp instincts he prided himself on. Yet, for all her warmth, she always remained stubbornly out of reach. Over the years, Griff had dropped countless subtle hints, hoping she might give him the slightest chance to fill the void in her life and prove they could be a great team outside the office. He had always imagined that once she sobered, she would finally take him seriously. Instead, the years slipped by without her ever considering him. In fact, her sobriety introduced a new obstacle: when she chose to shut down, she did so faster than anyone he knew, leaving absolutely no room for discussion. It was the only drawback to her recovery that he found truly daunting.
What was happening? Griff watched Lynn closely. This wasn't her usual demeanor. He had become less of a talker himself these days, but now he wondered if his silence had backfired. Had he waited too long to make his move? He'd wanted to give her time to heal, to be ready—but maybe she was ready, just for someone else. The realization stung. He was right here by her side. Why didn't she want him?
"So, you were brought here by the Jordan consulate?" Lynn decided it was her turn to tease Merc. "Must be nice to be able to pull strings to get what you want."
"I ran with the Jordan army when I was in the military. Made some friends and then decided to stay in Jordan when I got out. My Jordan friends and I were in Turkey when they hooked me up with a nomad tribe trying to get to Egypt. They paid me, but I don't feel like I deserved it."
"I'm sorry about that," Lynn said gently, the memory of the bodies strewn across the ground invading her mind. Her head jerked as she reacted to the thought, trying to throw the scene out of memory.
As their party filed into the mess hall, Griff chafed at feeling like a third wheel. He watched Lynn smoothly slip vital questions into the conversation, probing the mercenary's character. He already knew she intended to offer the man a job; it was uncanny how easily she could draw a person out. She always knew exactly what she wanted. Griff just wished, bitterly, that her desires included giving him a chance instead of some stranger from nowhere.
Avril and Jimmy met the threesome in the cafeteria line and let them know that they had left clothing for Merc in their room. Avril informed him that he would be staying in his own room down the hall from the Holy Trio.
"What?" Jimmy blurted out, suddenly annoyed at the idea of not using the comfort of a private room for their 'escapes', "you have empty rooms?" He gave Avril an intense stare. It was odd enough to him that Avril wouldn't allow the use of her own room. Their hiding places were fun, but he was ready for a moment they could just lie together afterwards.
"Are you well? Do you have seizures?" Avril asked him, knowing damn well what he meant. Griff and Lynn turned sharply, their eyes darting between Avril and Jimmy, while Merc, completely famished, simply kept moving down the food line. Noticing their intense, curious stares, Avril looked back at them with annoyance.
"What?" Avril asked, waving her hands in exaggerated motions around her own head. "He have crazy head." Griff glanced at Lynn, who offered only a helpless shrug before turning her attention back to the line cook behind the counter. Griff followed her lead, though he just stared blankly at the food behind the glass, both of them actively ignoring the couple's antics.
Lynn thanked the server, took a bite of her pastry, and looked up at him. "Are you going to eat?"
"No, I lost my appetite earlier," he answered, "still not hungry."
"Well, we should keep our energy levels up," Jimmy interjected, "these runs they're putting us on are getting more and more extreme."
"I'll feel hungry later, I'm sure," Griff said. He just wanted to kill the conversation about his well-being and maybe everyone would all just shut up. He needed to make sense of whatever the hell was happening with Lynn. Why look for someone else when he had already made it perfectly clear, in so many words, that he wanted her? What was wrong with him? He had to figure it out.
Avril watched Griff, the psychic static rolling off him so violently made her own empathic senses reel. Something was deeply wrong. She wanted to intervene—or get help from Jimmy—but she froze, caught in the emotions bleeding into the room. Was Griff tracking a threat from Merc? No, her radar would have flagged an outsider instantly. Years of Essene training had taught her to trust her intuition, but this dynamic made no sense. Visually, Lynn's attention was locked amorously on Merc. Emotionally, the energy felt entirely counterfeit. Instead, the true energetic currents screamed a heavy, magnetic pull between Griff and Lynn. Confused by the conflicting signals, Avril realized she couldn't untangle this web alone. She needed Emanuel. The Essene elder had a gift for reading people, proven when he'd confronted Merc about the dog. Emanuel would know if her instincts were broken, or if she was just blind to the truth.
This mystery was going to cost her a night of sleep. She needed Jimmy by her side, tucked into the bed they should have been sharing all along. He loved her—she knew it, felt it in the quiet spaces between them—and the doubts trailing behind her were nothing but her own mental clutter. If she could just lean into her instincts, she would see his heart clearly. After dinner, she led Jimmy to her room, stepping across the threshold to a completely new chapter in their life together.
The next morning, Jimmy brought the happy dog into the dining room. Ignoring whether the cafeteria actually allowed animals, he pulled down two trays. For himself, he grabbed an assortment of plates; for his new companion, he set a small plate and a bowl on the second tray. As he pursued the choices, Jimmy's mind was still whirling. He had never known a night of passion like the one he just shared with Avril. Other women had pleasured him, but he had never felt such deep, mutual satisfaction before her.
"Does he have a name?" the dessert server asked, bringing Jimmy back down to earth. He scooped up the prettiest custard dessert for the man's companion. The excited pup jumped up against Jimmy's leg to get a better view of the delicacies being added to the trays.
"No, that's my girlfriend's job," he answered. And for a moment he mused the situation. "I have a dog and a girlfriend," he said with a slight laugh. "I'll have chocolate cake for breakfast, I'm celebrating."
"Hey," Avril said as she came up to join Jimmy and the canine in the line.
"Oh, this is my girlfriend," Jimmy almost boasted as he introduced her to the server. She looked at her lover with a sideways glance and gave a slight chuckle. She already had a rapport with the man. Yeah, she really liked his dumb ass. She gave him a peck on the cheek as he continued to speak. "Hey baby, I'm gonna scout out with the dog. You can come if you want."
"I must to return to Jordan. We move hospital," she answered with a hint of disappointment.
"No problem, I'll go with you," he insisted.
"No, you stay here; guard Essenes," she said softly. "In time, you and whole world to know Essene secrets. Protect them." Jimmy stopped listening the moment she said no. She was always dropping cryptic remarks about the Essenes—secrets he never really understood.
"How long do you think that's going to take...this trip to Jordan?" Jimmy asked, upset with yet another separation between them. His voice came out in almost a whine.
"We are done when we are done," Avril sighed, "is this what American children sound like?"
"Naw," Jimmy suddenly smiled, he liked where her mind had gone. "American babies, especially with Jewish princesses, take after their mother's side of the family." He pressed himself against her back, his attitude softening as he kissed the top of her head. "When are you leaving?"
"At the darkest hour next week on new moon," she answered and then looked at the happy little dog that cocked his head at her. "I think, Shamshon for name."
"A what?" Jimmy asked. He had no idea what she was saying.
"You know, strongest man in Writings."
"Oh, Sampson," Jimmy laughed. "Yeah, he does look like Sampson." He turned back to the dessert server, "his name is Sampson,"
"Good name," the man smiled and placed the pastry Avril had pointed to on a plate and handed it to her.
It seemed everyone loved Sampson, though when a few select soldiers made him uneasy in their presence. He would press himself against Jimmy or Merc's legs, staring obsessively at the soldiers. It wasn't an aggressive posture, but a protective one. The targeted men or women weren't bothered by his intense scrutiny; they simply ignored the dog and went about their business, and life went on as usual.
Within a few days of strict training, Avril had Sampson fetching pastry baskets prepared from the cafeteria and delivering them straight to the early shift in the carpool. She had a mechanic tool a custom leather collar for Sampson, transforming him into a furry courier for her notes to Jimmy. Facing an uncertain upcoming absence, she clung to every possible connection with him. Especially when they were apart, she had his thoughts scrawled on paper—treasures she hoarded with tender nostalgia.
Sampson began the morning with his usual procedure of getting the pastry basket to the soldiers. Who, at the time, were setting up the convoy for the next trip out. Little did anyone suspect that the dog was taking out two pastries from the basket and putting them on the dashboard of the electric jeep that Jimmy used to scout around the area. The carpool crew had already set up Jimmy's vehicle first thing. From there Sampson would hurry back to his friend's side and follow him until they headed out to scout.
The start of each day was like every morning before with Sampson, Jimmy would call the dog into the passenger seat and say, "Sampson, look what Avril left us." He would give one pastry to Sampson after feeling them both and taking the less wet treat for himself and the other for his four legged passenger. Jimmy held the pastry in his mouth as he started the vehicle, set it to drive mode and headed up the exit road to the outside. The man and his companion would stop and sit at the entrance just outside the iron door, covering his pet with a small jumper to make him invisible, which looked incredibly ridiculous in shadow form with Sampson wriggling out of the head gear and causing his head to be the only thing visible. By the time they set off for patrol, they were just a dog's head levitating in the air and a mismatched shadow in the sand that kicked up dirt from nowhere.
A month at the base was far longer than Merc had ever planned to stay. The creeping sense of familiarity disturbed him; this place was starting to feel like home. Even the local hound, Sampson, had grown attached. The dog ran reconnaissance with Jimmy by day, but at night, he claimed the corner of Merc's mattress, seeking a bunkmate who slept like the dead. Every morning followed the same, domestic routine. Merc would open the door, watch Sampson trot off to the dining room for Avril's kitchen spoils, and then shave in front of the mirror. He often joined the scouting runs, but a persistent restlessness told him he needed to be doing something bigger. After talking over his feelings of discontent with the team about his daily life at the base, Merc began taking more patrols without Jimmy. Taking Sampson out alone. He found himself talking to Sampson as if he were a person. Wondering if he was finally getting a little unhinged from the domestic life he was settling into, wishing he felt more like he truly needed to be there. A purpose that balanced the comfort of his life on the base.
One day after breakfast, Lynn and Jimmy met with General Taylor in the command room to receive their next patrol assignment. Evidence suggested enemy troops were nearby tormenting the villagers, and they needed to be tracked and stopped. Sampson was already out on a regular sweep with Merc. When the two militia members reached the reported incident site and found no hostiles, they drove farther out to inspect another desolated village, walking the perimeter and checking the buildings. Strolling through the deserted streets, both let down their guard, assuming the infiltrators had moved on. Losing track of their own shadows as they moved in their usual cloaked fashion, they were suddenly surprised by a sudden shot that rang out that was quickly followed by many more. Under heavy fire, they ran for cover, realizing they were too far from their vehicle to escape. The adversary, cloaked and locked onto their positions, fired erratically. Lynn and Jimmy dashed back and forth, desperate to keep eyes on each other's shadow as they fled down a dirt road. Finally, they dove into a roadside ditch and returned fire.
"Hey," Jimmy cried out when Lynn fired off shots right next to his face. "I'm trying to shoot here, you're too close."
"We're going to have to turn off our apps before we hurt each other," she called out to him.
"I'm right here," said Jimmy and made himself visible. "You don't have to yell in my ear." Lynn turned off her app as well. Both fired out from the ditch at the enemy, spraying anything that looked suspicious with a fan of bullets.
In an instant, two enemy soldiers appeared on the opposite side of the ditch. They stood over the hole, rifles aimed squarely at the cornered Americans. Moving with extreme caution, both slowly lowered their weapons and raised their hands above their heads as they stood up. Seconds later, two more pursuers emerged on the other side of the ditch. With four rifles trained on them, escape was impossible.
"Like shooting fish in barrel," one of the men said in broken English. His thick Russian accent made his grin look even more menacing as he stared down at the two militia. He raised his rifle higher, locking Jimmy in his sights. Then, without warning, the soldier collapsed into the ditch, landing motionless in the dirt before the feet of his prisoners. A second later, the remaining three enemies dropped where they stood, one at a time. For a moment, Lynn and Jimmy froze in confusion, their hands still raised in the sudden silence.
"Merc?" Lynn called out happily when she saw a blue feathered dart in the neck of one of the unconscious men.
"And me," Griff said, phasing into view at the mouth of the ditch just above Lynn.
"Wait," said Lynn after she thought for a moment. "How did you know how to find us?"
"The same way the Russians found you," Griff answered and jumped into the hole. "Jimmy's beacon is on." He checked the vitals of the unconscious man as he pulled the dart from his body and stripped him of his watch and weapons. Merc faded into view and did the same with the others that lay unconscious.
"Huh?" Jimmy muttered as he quickly checked his watch to see the beacon app flashing. He hadn't noticed it when he turned off his cloaking app. How could he have missed it, he thought in a panic, it was flashing?
"Why is that, Jimmy?" Griff asked with a scowl. He bagged the items he had taken from the prisoner, tying him up with zip ties and then looked squarely at his partner. He tossed the bag up to Merc who zip tied the three outside the ditch and rolled them into the hole with the first captured soldier.
"Shit," Jimmy responded, turning off the beacon. "I must have hit my watch just right or something."
"Come on," Merc said looking down into the ditch and then disappeared from view again. His voice called out, "Let's get out of here before more come."
"Keep a check on your shit!" Griff said sternly to Jimmy as he helped Lynn out of the hole.
Returning to the base, Jimmy knew a severe disciplinary action was waiting for him. A hundred different excuses raced through his mind, but he ultimately abandoned them all. There was no defense. He would face the music, take the punishment, and accept whatever fallout came his way—even if it cost him his career. He thought back to the firefight, remembering the exact moment disaster struck: he had opened his app to deactivate his cloaking device and, amid the chaos of being pinned down under fire, forgot to close the connection. Bracing himself for the morning, Jimmy slipped into Avril's quarters and sat down on the bed beside his sweetheart.
"I hear what happen," Avril said with kind reassurance. "It will all be good. You never worry." And just as she put her hand on his, Griff walked into the room without knocking
"About today's fiasco," Griff said sternly. Jimmy sat silent, waiting for the repercussions of the beacon event. Avril kept her hand on his.
"It's my fault," Jimmy muttered. "I forgot to exit my apps when I set my visibility."
"Okay," Griff said hesitantly. "I was ready for excuse after excuse."
"I don't have any excuse," Jimmy added.
"Well, don't do it again," Griff said and turned on his heel, leaving the room. It was apparent to him that Jimmy had matured, or was maturing and accepting responsibility for his actions. Something both he and Lynn had been hoping would happen since he joined their crew.
"Did you know he was going to be lenient?" Jimmy asked her when he thought about how easily he got off. "You can't see into the future...can you?" He made light of the conversation when he finally began to relax.
"No," Avril laughed. "Your vibration, it is this room. A positive. Positive vibration call to positive vibration."
"That's okay," Jimmy said as he stood. "I'm not going to understand what you're saying. I'm just glad that it went so well."
"Then you thank Universe," Avril suggested.
"Thank you, Universe," Jimmy said aloud. One thing he had learned since he met Avril was that she was always right about everything when it came to reading a room. People gave her a little problem, but the atmosphere of a situation was something she could read clearly and easily.
"You make love to me?" Avril said playfully as she began to unbutton his shirt.
"Okay," Jimmy said enthusiastically, quickly pulling her to him and kissing her passionately. This was turning out to be an all around great day after all, regardless of his blunder. Before the lovers could undress, the frenzied couple, wrapped in the throws of passion, found themselves interrupted by the sound of scratching on the door. Jimmy stood up just as a sharp bark caused the door to spring open. Sampson trotted into the room and sat down near the bed. Before closing the door, Jimmy checked the hall. Seeing no one, he shut the door and hurried back to Avril. Pushing her down flat on the bed, he let his hands roam her body after he pulled her shirt out of the tuck in her pants and ran his hands across her warm, soft, olive skin. Sampson began to bark. When Jimmy pulled his hands from beneath her clothes, he stopped. As Jimmy tried a second time to touch her, the dog barked again.
"Goddammit, Sampson," Jimmy muttered, his frustration peaking. "Shut the fuck up." He slid his hands back under her shirt, but the dog immediately renewed his barking. Annoyed, Jimmy pulled away from Avril again. "Let's try the bathroom." He stood, hauling Avril up with him, and they ducked inside the next room. The moment the latch clicked, Sampson was at the door, scratching incessantly before letting out a sharp bark. Jimmy yanked the door back open, blocking the dog's snout with his foot as Sampson tried to squeeze through. "Go away," Jimmy snapped, slamming the door shut again.
After their tryst, Jimmy and Avril emerged from the bathroom, adjusting their clothes with matching grins. Sampson, who had been waiting patiently on the mattress, hopped down and trotted over to greet them. A comfortable warmth settled over the couple as they made their way back to Avril's bunk. They sank onto the mattress together, and Avril rolled over to rest her head against Jimmy's shoulder. When Sampson leaped up to join them, Jimmy stroked the dog's head, watching his canine companion melt into a relaxed heap. If only things could stay just like this, Jimmy thought, looking down at the woman in his arms. In that quiet moment, the world felt entirely complete.
"Thank you, Universe," he sighed aloud. Avril reached around with her arm and held him tightly. She felt his energy of peace, and delighted in its vibration of warmth.
Not even Sampson moved from where he lay with the couple when there was a knock at the door and Lynn entered.
"Hi," she said smiling as she noticed everyone piled on Avril's bed. "You guys taking a nap?"
"Maybe," Jimmy said in a slow sleepy voice.
"I've got some surveillance to pull and I need your computer, Griff is using ours," said Lynn as she walked to where the computer sat on a far table that protruded from the wall. "Is that going to bother you?"
"Not at all," Jimmy grinned down at Avril, who responded by holding him even tighter. Beside them, Sampson raised his head briefly before settling it back down on Jimmy's leg. Avril—looking completely at peace—leaned up to press a quick kiss to Jimmy's lips before sitting up.
"Oh, lay with me," he begged softly, pulling at her.
"Tonight," she whispered back. "In same place here." And then added with a whisper, "maybe not in bathroom."
"That sounds really nice," Jimmy moaned sleepily.
"You nap now," she said, kissing him again. "I talk with Lynn." She rose from the bed and walked across the room to join her friend. Before she could speak, Jimmy had already begun to snore. Both women giggled.
"Let us eat," Avril smiled. Those were the words that always made Sampson come to life. He quickly hopped off the bed and joined the two women as they strolled out of the room to head for the cafeteria.