Cabin fever had set in on Lynn. At the small table in the center of her quarters, she sat alone, half-heartedly scrolling through a file on her iPad. She was mapping out the next scout patrol, but as she flicked through the week's reports, the air in the room felt entirely stagnant. With a heavy sigh, she tossed her device onto the table. The novelty of this pristine base—once a luxury—had completely worn off. She was grateful for the safety, but the subterranean walls now felt like a gilded cage. No matter how many corridors she explored, she couldn't shake the feeling of being a prisoner. Envy pricked at her whenever she thought of Avril, who frequently left for lengthy above-ground assignments while Lynn remained trapped below with only the mercy of short stints above ground. Still, relief cut through her frustration; Avril was due back today. If nothing else, she could live vicariously through her friend's stories and briefly forget the weight pressing in on her from her underground existence.
Every minute between patrols dragged like an anchor; only the prospect of the open air kept Lynn sane. Even while scanning a secure, uneventful grid, she let herself daydream about life above ground—of warm sunlight and wind in her hair. Desperate to escape the subterranean confinement, she wished she could just let her team handle the surveillance while she let her mind drift as she enjoyed the sunshine, even if only for a moment.
"Hey," Griff greeted her as he walked into their room with Merc. "Did you map a route for us?"
"I wanna go too," said Lynn, holding up the iPad that Griff would use. "If I stay here another minute in this mole hole I'm going to lose my mind."
"Sure," Griff nodded and walked over to Lynn to take the media pad. He gave his teammate a curious glance before turning to the screen and pulling up the directives for their next run. "Looks like a pretty simple plan. Avril should be back today. Jimmy's got the Essenes. Although he will be anxiously waiting for his sweetheart. He'll be impossible to be around until she's back." He half laughed.
"Yeah," said Lynn. She stood, walked over to the door and began to check her pack, weapons and ammo. "Just getting out of this place for a while is my main objective today."
"Getting a little claustrophobic?" Merc asked, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
Lynn returned the look. Their new teammate was finally warming up to them. Soon enough, she hoped, he'd fit in entirely and let his guard down. As it was, her questions about him were mounting—chief among them, why he refused to return stateside once their contract was up. It completely baffled her. At least he'd made it clear how to reach him for their next operation, even if his instructions were bizarre: Call the Prince of Jordan. How was that supposed to work?
Jimmy burst through the door, dropped to his knees, and yanked a metal box from under his bed before sprinting back into the hallway. Silence settled over the room. The remaining three looked at one another, a mutual, unspoken certainty passing between them: Avril was back.
"He's like some crazy puppy that's lost its mind, sometimes," Lynn sighed when she broke the silence between them.
"Do you think it wise to allow fraternization between those two?" Merc asked, his strict sense of wartime protocol chafing against the Holy Trio's lax oversight. He had long wondered why the high leaders didn't stamp out such reckless behavior. To him, an environment as brutal as war demanded absolute discipline; a single compromised soldier could compromise the safety of them all. A concept already proven in his eyes.
"We've seen a lot of shit, Merc. We've decided it's best that we all just live in the here and now. Whether we're here in the war or back home helping people deal with the chaos around them, we try to keep some semblance of empathy for each other," Lynn said solemnly, her voice firm with conviction. Then, completely derailing her own train of thought, she blurted out, "Chihuahua, not puppy. I meant Chihuahua. My mother had a pack of those crazy little dogs; none of them could be confined to any kind of order. But they served an important purpose—they were better guard dogs than the damn pit bull that ran with that pack of rats."
Merc sat in silence. He couldn't argue with her logic, mostly because he didn't understand it. Beside him, Griff's eyebrows flicked upward as a grin spread across his face. Nothing that came out of Lynn's mouth could surprise him anymore, and watching her completely floor Merc filled him with quiet satisfaction. It was just another thing that separated Griff from everyone else: he understood Lynn, a privilege very few people could claim.
Eventually, the room drifted back to reality. They went over their patrol route one last time, with Lynn lightly tossing out her usual hope for a day free of enemy trouble. Finally, setting their shop talk aside, the crew began the day's real debate: whether it was smarter to eat before the patrol or after.
"Guess what?" said Jimmy hastily as he burst into the room again.
"Avril's back," Lynn answered without a thought. Everyone already knew that that particular look on his face meant only one thing, Avril was back with him.
"No. Uh, I mean, yeah," he said happily. "And she has a present for you."
"For whom?" Lynn asked evenly, her tone remaining nonchalant. She was just happy to see her friend again. Even so, she needed to get out of the underground base and regain a better attitude.
"For you," he said, trying to sound mysterious. "It's what you like to do at Cheyenne State Park when we're at home."
"Hiking?" She took a guess, curious about what Jimmy was talking about and what it would have to do with anything there in the desert.
"No, you liked going to the archery range there," he said, turning back to call outside the door. "Bring them in, babe." Avril walked in with a box nearly as tall as she was, and a second box not as tall but much thicker and wider. Lynn stood slowly as Jimmy helped Avril lay the boxes before her on the table.
"Open them," Jimmy insisted, his smile infectious. Lynn couldn't help but beam back, her eyes widening in excitement. She tore into the first package and pulled out a beautifully crafted longbow and a matching quiver of arrows. She hadn't fired a shot in so long that she'd forgotten how much she missed it until this exact moment. In the second box lay an equally ornate crossbow, nested neatly above rows of sharp bolts.
"Where did you get these?" Lynn asked in an euphoric gasp.
"My brother," Avril answered with a slight giggle. "He is kashat, like you."
"These look new," said Lynn, still enraptured by the look and feel of the awesome weapon. Her hands stroked the wood lovingly.
"She had her brother buy you these after I told her how much you love to shoot shit with arrows. Although, I did tell her you weren't as good with the crossbow." He smiled triumphantly as he laid his arm around Avril's shoulder.
"Are you kidding?" Lynn's smile widened when she set the bow aside and picked up the crossbow. "I will get better now that I don't have to rent one of these."
"I have to admit," Griff began as he picked up the longbow and inspected the intricate designs painted on the belly and back of the bow. "This one's a hell-of-a lot nicer than any in the collection you have at your house."
"It most certainly is," Lynn said, laughing. She hoisted the crossbow, settling the heavy stock firmly against her shoulder. She aimed down the length of the wall, peering closely through the target sight.
"Figures," Jimmy said, joining her laughter. He remembered the walls in her house and the fact that there was hardly any room to hang another picture, let alone a crossbow.
"Take them out with us on patrol," Griff suggested as he laid the bow back on the table. "We could use a relaxing day out. It could be fun."
"I'm gonna do just that," Lynn said, a sudden spark of energy lifting her voice. She gathered the bow and its quiver of arrows, leaning them carefully against the wall near the rifles. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!" Returning to the table, she packed the crossbow and bolts into their case, then lined it up near the exit with the rest of the gear they had ready to go.
"We're not going," Jimmy said privately to Griff, watching Lynn and Merc pack up. Lynn held her new gifts like treasures, a visible skip in her step as she headed for the door. Merc trailed her, weighed down by his own gear and her rifle. Jimmy watched them go, his voice dropping to a low hiss. "We have... our..."
"I didn't think you would be joining us. Besides, you and Avril have the Essenes to look after." Griff smiled and collected his own pack and weapons. "Have fun," he said to the couple before he also disappeared out the door.
"Finally," Jimmy said as he pulled Avril close and nuzzled her neck. She laughed and pushed away from him.
"I must bathe," she said with a teasing grin.
"Oh, sure baby," he said, continuing to grab at her and pull her close. "I'll go with you."
"And if children come?" She asked, trying to allow him to see the lack of sense that made.
"We can lock the doors," he insisted. He pressed his body flush against hers, leaving her with no room to doubt his intentions—and no way to ignore the rigid proof of his desire straining against his pants.
"Shower doors not to lock," Avril giggled when he kissed her neck again. When she spoke, her voice lowered to a sultry tone. "Doors open to outside."
"We can put the broomhandle in the door pulls. No one will get in then." Jimmy mumbled as he began to beg silently with his eyes.
"No," she laughed, a sharp thrill rippling through her. The desire between them was mutual and heavy. She slid her hand down his pants, her palm finding the hard contour of him through the cloth. She rubbed against him firmly, tracking the heat of his reaction. "Come to my room," she murmured, anchoring him with a deep, breathless kiss. He gave in completely, letting her take the lead as she pulled him toward the door.
They hurried down the hallway, aiming straight for Avril's room, but a sudden encounter with the Israeli commander blocked their path. Avril immediately stepped into the general's line of sight, desperate to hide the growing problem her sweetheart was struggling to conceal. The General addressed her in sharp Hebrew, thrusting his iPad toward her. Avril took it smoothly, her eyes darting across the screen before she offered a calm response. When she returned the device, the General muttered something about Jimmy. Avril smiled and nodded as Jimmy locked eyes with the commander, who offered a slow, knowing nod before leaving them alone in the corridor.
"What did he say?" Jimmy asked in a whisper when they were back on track to her room.
"He say, carry on," Avril smiled and pulled him after her. She was more than ready to get down to business as soon as possible.
"He's your boss, right?" asked Jimmy
"He everybody's boss," she answered pointedly.
"Well, I like him," he said happily, "he knows a desperate situation when he sees one." Avril turned and looked at him squarely, shaking her head. As they slipped into her room and closed the door, Avril gently pushed him towards her bed as they began to kiss passionately. Gently guiding him down onto the bed, she stood above him, smiling seductively. He shivered with pleasure at the idea she was about to take full advantage of him. She laid her hands on his shoulders to have him lay down completely before she straddled him, unbuttoning his outer shirt and yanking it off him. She used her whole body to pull his t-shirt up and remove it from his body as well. Ever so slowly she trailed her fingers to his pants to undo the button and open the zipper.
"My boots?" He whispered.
"You can stay with boots," Avril said as she slid off of him and knelt beside the bed, "boots not in way." Jimmy groaned softly, lifting his hips so she could slide his pants down to his ankles. In that moment, he was incredibly grateful he never wore underwear—it made things so much easier for her.
With precision, she freed him. His shaft sprang to attention, and she smiled, delighted. Jimmy rested one arm above his head and slid the other beneath the pillow, leaving her to take full charge of the matter at hand. His whole body tensed as her lips brushed his inner thighs, her tongue tracing a path toward his core. She had never explored him like this before, and the novelty sent sharp tingles of pleasure through his groin. She kissed his skin tenderly, trailing her lips over his upper thighs until his balls tightened, before gently taking each one into her mouth. The sensation drew a sharp cry from his lips. When she ran her tongue up the length of his shaft to swirl around the crown, he reacted without thinking—bringing his hands to her face, caressing her cheeks, his thumbs resting near her lips as she sank down to take in as much of him as she could.
"Oh God," he cried out when he felt the nearly uncontrollable urge to release. "Be careful, love. I don't want to end this just yet." Avril pulled her lips off of him slowly and looked into his deep, dark eyes.
"There to be plenty more," she said and licked the top of his penis again. "With this done now, we play again later," she whispered teasingly.
"Okay," he responded breathlessly. Once again she placed her mouth on him and he allowed her to pursue his rapture. With every downward motion he matched her caressing tongue with slight movements of his hips until the pulses of his orgasm overtook him. His outward breath, joined by low sultry noises that escaped him, echoing the release of his impetuous passion. She never lost the rhythm of his pulses as she drank in every drop of his essence. Afterwards, he lay reeling in repose before she pulled his pants back up and kissed his belly.
"I will shower and afterwards..." she began.
"We will do it again," he muttered happily as his chest heaved for air.
"If you feel for it," she answered affirmatively, just as breathlessly. Before heading for the showers, she thought she would mention their need for sustenance. "Food will give energy for this day."
"Later," he said, his breathing slowing as he regained control. "Let's just make love until we both can't move anymore." Avril chuckled softly, gathering her clean clothes and shower kit from the bathroom. Armed with her gear and a back brush, she stepped out into the hall and headed toward the showers.
After stripping down, she stepped beneath the hot inviting water, only to freeze. Jimmy was right behind her, clutching a large push broom. Before she realized it, he slammed the door shut, jammed the broom handle through the push bars, giving her a smug smile as he quickly removed his boots and then his pants.
"I keep thinking about what you did to me," he said as he approached her. "I'm ready to go again."
"If you make quickly," she said, playfully splashing water on him. "But not too long."
"Baby," he said, grinning from ear to ear, "my second wind will be a whole lot longer than the first."
"You are bad boy," Avril said as Jimmy joined her in the shower, his erection at full attention again.
"Keep saying that," he moaned. The water glistened as it streamed over his body, defining every muscle. "Tell me what a bad boy I am. It's getting things started." He grabbed her loofah, pumped a generous amount of soap onto it, and began to work up a lather over Avril's skin. After coating her back, he turned her around to do the front, slicking down his own body. He pressed against her, slick and warm skin. "Let's see how bubbly we can get." Before he could wrap his arms around her, a sharp thumping echoed at the door. The handle rattled violently, but the broom jammed beneath it held fast.
"Who is it?" Jimmy called out in a high pitched voice, almost sounding female.
"General Beckett," came a booming voice with a thick British accent from the other side of the door.
"Fuck," Jimmy said in nearly a whisper, he jumped into the next shower and turned on the water. "Can I help you?" He called out in his normal voice as he quickly rinsed all the soap from his body.
"Who's in there?"
"It is me, Kisselberg and Westphal," Avril called back. She was under no illusion that everyone did not already know of their relationship.
"Oh," came a softer, yet deep and commanding tone through the door. "Carry on." Jimmy listened as the footsteps trailed away.
"Was that wise?" he asked Avril, wondering if British generals had any power to report them, or worse, punish them.
"He is, how do you say, Mensch? Good man," Avril said as she looked over the deep, dark, wonderfully glistening body of her love. She really liked what she saw, and it was beginning to feel like he was too far away. She turned off her shower and moved with Jimmy into his.
"Let's try more like this," she said after joining him in the second stall and began to soap his torso, "we start again?"
"I'm not feeling it anymore," Jimmy said, pulling away from her. "I'm gonna get dressed and meet you back in the room. Maybe we can try again there. You were right about this place being too... busy." He grabbed a towel and began to dry off, letting out a long, ragged sigh. He couldn't shake the image of the British general standing over the shower, watching her bathe. It burned behind his eyelids, a stubborn, intrusive thought that he knew would paralyze him if they tried for intimacy now. The silence between them grew heavy, thick with his sudden withdrawal. Under the streaming water, Avril just watched him go, her expression guarded and unreadable. Although many people knew that the British general was gay, Avril did not feel she had the right to discuss someone else's preferred lifestyle with anyone, even her sweetheart. He would have to find that out for himself.
"Are you sure we shouldn't have taken an aircar?" Merc leaned forward, clamping a hand over his hat to keep it from whipping away. The open-air back seat of the jeep offered zero protection from the rushing wind. Every few seconds, the tires kicked up a gritty wake, sending a stinging spray of sand across his face. At least his assignments with the Jordanian soldiers usually involved a flying vehicle.
"For my own piece of mind," Lynn called back to him over the sound of rushing air, "I really didn't want to be confined inside anything else today. I really need the feeling of this freedom right now." Merc nodded, relenting to Lynn's need to be in the open air. But still, he didn't like it.
Before wrapping up their patrol, the three scouted an ideal clearing for some target practice. Lynn singled out a massive tree backed by a sandy ridge—a perfect setup for recovering her spent shafts. The group launched into a friendly competition, but the rivalry was short-lived; both men quickly found themselves thoroughly outmatched by Lynn's more precise hits.
"Now give me a six shooter that shoots true," Merc said after he fired off another bolt and missed the target again, "and I'll outshoot anyone."
"No doubt," Griff laughed and took his turn with the crossbow. He fired three shots and only hit the target once. "This is a lot harder than it looks."
"You know," Lynn laughed with him, watching her companions fire the weapon at the tree, "I for one, do not feel bad about trying to gain accuracy with the crossbow. After watching you guys, I don't feel so inadequate any longer."
"Well, none of us will be shooting apples off each other's heads anytime soon," Griff said, shooting his last bolt. Lynn didn't answer. She grabbed her longbow, plucked an arrow from her quiver, and planted her feet. In one fluid motion, she notched the shaft and drew the string tight against her cheek. She paused, feeling the air current, then tilted her aim a fraction to the right to fight the breeze. She released the arrow as it hissed through the air and slammed straight into the makeshift target on the tree.
"Can you do that twice?" Merc asked, impressed with her shot, "...in a row." Griff watched Merc and smiled to himself. He had accompanied her many times to the state park where she liked to practice at the archery range. He knew she would impress him every time she took a shot. He stood silent and watched his teammates' response. She pulled another arrow, placed it on the string, raised her arms and made a steady aim. The arrow landed just beneath the first, well within the intended target.
"You are good," Merc said, studying the two arrows. "I'll give you that."
She fired off her remaining shots. But before anyone could move to retrieve them, a strange sound from above brought the squad to full attention. The last time Griff had heard that noise, it was an enemy drone. There was something cloaked directly above them on recon, and its shadow shifted subtly across the surrounding palm trees.
"Holy shit!" Griff yelled. "Everyone back to the jeep, FAST!"
They bolted for the vehicle. Lynn sprinted with her bow and quiver slung over her arm as it beat against her pack, Griff right beside her clutching the crossbow. Behind them, Merc ripped his rifle off his shoulder and sprayed the sky. A lucky round clipped the drone. It spiraled toward the earth, its skin fading in and out of visibility before it crashed, totally visible.
"We are in a world of hurt," Griff yelled over the chaos. "We've got to get the hell out of here, fast!" They scrambled into the jeep, the engine sprang to life as he slammed on the accelerator. They tore down the road toward the safety checkpoint, praying the Jordan guards were in position to intercept their pursuers that would surely follow.
Just as they feared, an enemy truck rounded the bend, its mounted machine gun trained directly on them. Flanking it were shifting shadows—cloaked aircars, Lynn counted four shadows. The team's jeep bounced violently over the unmarked road, its occupants gripping anything anchored to keep from being thrown clear. Griff zigzagged wildly across the dirt to throw off the gunner's aim. Lynn lunged to fire, but a sudden jolt slammed her into the back seat, knocking the pistol from her grip and leaving it lost in the dust behind them.
Seeing the mishap in his rearview, Griff passed his own sidearm back. Lynn hauled herself up, grabbed it, and opened fire. Beside her, Merc emptied his rifle into the dust, while Lynn burned through Griff's pistol, then his chest-holster backup. When those clicked empty, she clawed her way into the front seat and snatched her rifle from the floorboards.
Nearby, Merc's blind fire clipped one of the shadows. The wounded aircar spiraled into a second vessel; both slammed into the earth, their cloaking devices flickering out upon impact. Panic spooked the remaining escorts. The final two aircars deactivated their cloaks, materializing in full view to avoid another mid-air collision. Now that they could see their targets, Merc took aim. Two impossible rifle shots later, the aerial threats erupted into downward spins, leaving only the lone ground truck in hot pursuit.
"Shoot the tires!" Merc yelled out, hoping that the ammo left in Lynn's rifle would help dislodge the hostile pursuit. He handed Lynn the last full clip between them. The empty ammo container slid back and forth on the back floor and hit Merc's shins as he pushed it back out of the way. The vehicle fishtailed while Lynn tried to change to the last clip.
"FUCK!" she screamed when she realized her gun had jammed.
"Just get down!" Griff yelled back at her. They had no way to fire back once Merc's sidearm was empty. At the same time, she and Merc spied the crossbow slide from under the back seat. Looking at each other, both nodded and smiled.
"Go for it," Merc shouted, laughing at the possibility they were dependent on Lynn's hobby for salvation. And the fact that she wasn't very proficient with the crossbow as she was with her longbow did give him doubts. He continued to fire what bullets he had left in his weapon as Lynn secured the bolt.
"Shoot the tires," Merc yelled again just as three shots hit the back of their vehicle, causing shards of metal and dust to fly up. Lynn tried aiming but found herself tossed about before she felt she could get off a successful shot. She climbed back up from her side. Maybe if she stood, she thought. Merc braced himself against the back of the driver's seat, getting the gist of her idea, he yanked her by the collar and quickly grabbed her waist to help steady her aim.
"Shoot...just shoot," Merc and Griff yelled at the same time. She let off the shot and the bolt hit the driver's side fender, not piercing the tire as hoped.
"Shoot again," Griff yelled back to her. Lynn scrambled for another bolt but there were none. She didn't get a chance to retrieve any arrows during her practice session before they were discovered. She grabbed a thick metal tube that was slightly bigger than a regular bolt and secured it onto the crossbow.
"No, no, no. That won't work," Merc responded, "it will just bounce off the tire."
"Just shoot the goddamn thing!" Griff yelled back. "try to knock someone off the truck." Lynn had fallen to her side again, and as she rose to her knees, Merc grabbed her collar and bracing against the passenger seat again while she quickly stood. She fired the makeshift round and it headed straight for the gunbarrel of the mounted machine gun, lodging deep within. The enemy gunner had been firing at the same time and it caused the gun to explode against the tube. Smoke billowed from the gun as the gunner in the vehicle flew off the mount and onto the ground, rolling at top speed when he landed.
"Or that!" Merc laughed. He had truly doubted shooting a hollow tube, blunt at both ends, would be of any help at all. "That was a hell-of-a-shot." he said respectfully.
Just then, two allied aircar patrols flew past them, heading for the vehicle that pursued them. Merc and Lynn watched as the challenging vehicle spun around, spilling two more of its occupants out and raced off into the opposite direction.
"How the hell did you know the piece would fit the barrel?" Griff asked, impressed by the success of such a long shot. With the military assistance, they were able to slow down some. Another allied vehicle whizzed past them in the air to aid in the capture of the fleeing infantry squad vehicle that had pursued them
"I was aiming for the driver," said Lynn curtly as she pulled herself into the passenger seat. Merc gave a hearty laugh, as he dropped onto the back bench seat.