Date: Thu, 8 Mar 2012 05:51:00 -0800
From: Micheal Mikey <michealwitluv@gmail.com>
Subject: The Game He Lost 7

The Shower

     Finn wasn't often blindsided. When he was in enemy territory, he
relied on his teammates to watch his back. He had developed a sixth sense
about trip wires. He could isolate the sound of a gun being cocked above
the noise of a force five gale. But he hadn't been ready for this.

     It was supposed to have been a straightforward courtesy
meeting. Instead, it had turned into a touching tableau that could have
been made into a photo with blurred edges and put on the front of a
greeting card. Devoted father, loving mother, innocent child, all united in
their concern for the missing member of their team.

     Finn felt as out of place as a starving man staring through a window
at a banquet table. And for the second time in two days he wanted to stay.

     It hurt. Damn, it gnawed at the empty place inside him that he did his
best not to acknowledge or analyze. Out of habit, he searched for something
cynical or witty that would push these feelings away.

     Why would he want to stay? Why would he want to be part of this?
Family scenes gave him hives.

     "Finn?"

     He looked down. Abe was studying his face; really scrutinizing him for
a change. Why did Abe have to choose this moment for his sudden interest?
Finn summoned one of his best smiles to distract Abe. "Do you want to pick
up some tourist brochures while we are here? You might want to do a class
project on Nigeria for real."

     Abe continued to regard him. "Alright."

     "We'll get them on the way out. Looks like this meeting is over," he
added, tipping his head toward Ibru's family. The kid was sucking on his
thumb while his mother spoke to him quietly in Igbo. The ambassador seemed
to have temporarily forgotten the presence of his guests.

     For a man as steeped in diplomacy as Ibru, it was unusual. So was the
emotional way he had greeted Abe. He was in rough shape. Obviously, he was
completely focused on the fate of his oldest son.

     Yet another point against the family love thing, Finn told
himself. Freedom. No baggage that wouldn't fit in a duffel bag. That's what
he wanted.

     Abe put his hand on Finn's arm and leaned closer. "Finn, are you
okay?"

     He must be slipping – the smile hadn't worked. He dipped his head
towards Abe's. "No."

     Abe's eyes warmed. "What's wrong?"

     "I have an ache." Finn tapped his finger to his lips. "Right
here. Want to kiss it away and make it better?"

     Abe frowned and looked away, just as Finn had hoped he would.

~~~~~~~~~~

     "You'll be wearing this microphone on your clothes and this receiver
in your ear when you do the ransom drop." Finn held out his hand.

     Abe stared at the pair of tiny gadgets in the center of Finn's broad
palm. They were assembling his gear now so he would be ready to move when
they got the word. It was making everything more real...and yet strangely
unreal. The microphone was a fraction of the size of a watch battery and
the receiver was no larger than the size of a pea. "They are so small."

     "That's the idea. No one will know they are there, but you will be in
constant two way communication with us the entire time."

     "That's reassuring."

     Finn placed the devices into a Ziploc bag, sealed the top and put it
in his shirt pocket. He turned to call over his shoulder. "Where's Abe's
GPS transmitter, Chief?"

     Esposito looked up from where he was sitting in front of the radio
equipment. He tipped his chair on its back legs and stretched his arm
behind him to point at a crate near the far corner of the tent.

     Abe followed Finn around a stack of metal boxes and waited while he
sorted through the equipment in the crate. He came up with a slim black
box. "You'll conceal this under your clothes," he said. "It uses a
satellite signal to keep track of where you are."

     "Okay."

     "We'll be watching you every step of the way. It's just in case
something unexpected happens and you get separated from us, but that's very
unlikely."

     "I understand."

     "There are similar monitoring devices in the backpack. The last time,
Ibru was instructed to drop the money and leave, that's all. We are hoping
the next set up will be similar."

     "As long as someone else doesn't step in to mess it up again."

     Finn slipped the transmitter into the same shirt pocket as the bag
with the microphone and ear piece, then closed the crate and sat down on
the lid. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Abe."

     Abe hung on to the deep certainty in Finn's voice. As Finn had told
him before, whatever else he might think of him, he was a soldier.

     Finn had been all business since they had returned from the
embassy. For the remainder of the day, he had treated Abe with polite
respect. He hadn't given him any more compliments and he hadn't made any
more teasing comments about kissing.

     Only, that comment about kissing him hadn't simply been to tease, had
it? It had been more complicated than that.

     There was more to Finn O'Brian than met the eye. Abe might not have
realized it if he hadn't glimpsed that flash of genuine emotion this
morning...and if he hadn't tried so hard to cover it up. What was going on
behind that pretty face? He wondered.

     "Do you have any questions?"

     Abe wiped his palms on his pants and sat beside Finn on the crate. He
had been the one to draw the line in their relationship. Yet for all of
Finn's seemingly casual attitude, he had the feeling that Finn was
accustomed to setting limits of his own. "How will Matthew be released?
Will he be at the place where I have the ransom?"

     "That wasn't the deal the last time. They said they would tell Ibru
where the kid was after they had the money."

     "But that means there's no guarantee they will let him go. What if
they change their minds and ask for more?"

     "Then we adapt to the situation and go from there."

     "How?"

     "We are monitoring the men we followed from your apartment, we are
monitoring the Nigerian Embassy and we are tapping into every law
enforcement and intelligence network available. Boko Haram cells are well
organized, but so are we. When the next call comes in, there is a good
chance we will be able to narrow down the search. Best case scenario, we'll
discover where the kid is stashed and get him out before you have to do
anything."

     "And the worst case scenario?"

     "Forget it. I wouldn't want to give Murphy any ideas."

     "Who is Murphy?"

     "Anything that can go wrong..."

     "...will go wrong," Abe finished. "Murphy's Law."

     "I see you have made his acquaintance."

     "I teach seven year olds. I deal with him every day."

     Abe pulled his feet onto the crate lid and looped his arms around his
shins. "Matthew was taken five days ago. He must be terrified."

     Finn ran his knuckle along Abe's forearm. "Don't think about it, Abe."

     "How can I help it?"

     "We all have to maintain some distance to keep our focus on the
mission."

     "Sandra mentioned that yesterday."

     "She's a good officer."

     "Yes, she appears to be good at what she does. It's just that..."
Moisture pooled in Abe's eyes. He blinked to clear them. "I love children,
and I want so much to save him."

     "Trust us, Abe. We are trained professionals."

     Abe exhaled shakily. "You said that before, when you were pretending
to be an electrician."

     "Yeah, but I'm telling the truth this time."

     Abe looked across the tent. The activity had fallen off after the
evening tasks. "What are your missions usually like, Finn?"

     "There is no usual," he replied. "We go wherever we are needed. A few
months ago we stormed a hijacked passenger plane in the Caribbean. Before
that we caught a notorious drug lord – Falcone – got enough evidence
to send him to the electric chair."

     "It sounds exciting."

     "It's not like the movies. We spend most of our time planning and
training. The technical term for it is `hurry up and wait'."

     "Where do you live when you are not in a tent?"

     Finn arched an eyebrow. "Believe it or not, I have an apartment just
like real people."

     "Where?"

     "In Fayetteville in North Carolina. The Nighthawks is based at Fort
Braggs."

     "Is that where you are from originally?"

     "No, I'm from the West Coast."

     "You must miss your family."

     "You've already met them," Finn said, nodding toward the other men.

     "What about your real family? Your parents, your sisters and
brothers?"

     "We don't keep in touch."

     "I'm sorry."

     "Don't be. The arrangement suits everyone just fine. We move around a
lot." He laced his fingers together and stretched his arms over his head,
his jaw working as if he were suppressing a yawn. "Why all the questions,
Abe?"

     Abe watched the play of muscle beneath Finn's shirt as he moved,
although he still felt a twinge of guilt for enjoying it. "You know
everything about me because of the background check Sandra did. I thought
it would be fair if I learned a bit about you."

     "It sounds to me as if you consider us off duty."

     Abe gestured toward the electronic devices Finn had stored in his
pocket. "Unless there is some more equipment you needed to show me?"

     Finn grinned. "I've got plenty of equipment I'd like to show you, but
if you want to appreciate it properly we'll need more privacy."

     Abe felt his checks heat. "Very funny."

     "Making you laugh isn't what I had in mind."

     Abe focused on Finn's smile. It was attractive and charming with just
a hint of good-natured naughtiness. It was the same as the one he had given
Abe this morning. It might not be genuine, but as a distraction, it was
very effective. Was Finn using it to change the subject? "Why don't you
want to talk about yourself, Finn?"

     "There's not much to talk about. Why are you so interested?"

     "As I already said, it would be fair if I knew more about you."

     Finn slid off the crate and held out his hand. "Come with me. I have a
better idea."

     "What?"

     "It's getting late. I'll help you take a shower."

     "Finn..."

     "Relax, Abe. I meant I'll stand outside the door to make sure no one
intrudes."

    It was a practical offer that Finn knew sounded stupid. While the
warehouses toilets were private, there was only one communal shower. Abe
hadn't considered the difficulties of using it, but it wasn't that hard.

     Abe bypassed Finn's hand and got to his feet. "Thanks," he
said. "That's a good idea."

~~~~~~~~~~

     Good idea, my ass, Finn thought, gritting his teeth. He crossed his
arms and leaned his back against the bathroom door frame. He had mentioned
the shower in order to put an end to their conversation, but the interior
walls of the warehouse were thin. He could hear every drop of water that
hit the tile. Worse, he could hear when the water drops didn't hit the
tile. That meant they were hitting Abe's skin.

     Abe was using that apple-and-strawberry soap. The scent had wafted
under the gap in the door and was curling around him like a shy caress. It
was wholesome and sensual at the same time, just like Abe.

     There was a soft thud. The tone of the drops changed briefly, and then
resumed the muted patter of water on skin. Abe must have dropped the soap
and had leaned over to pick it up...

     Finn let his head fall back against the door and tried to think of
something else. He concentrated on a patch of starlight he could see
through a broken pane in one of the windows on the far side of the
roof. Was that bright one Aldebaran? He couldn't see enough to identify the
constellation that contained the star, but for this latitude and this time
of the year, it could be Aldebaran.

     Ibru said that Matthew wanted to be an astronaut. Has he taught him
about the stars and the constellations? Or had the kid found a book and
taught himself the way Finn had?

     Finn had been around Matthew's age when he had learned the map of the
heavens. It had started out as something to do when the arguing he could
hear through the walls would keep him awake at night. He remembered the
first time he had crawled out of his bedroom window onto the roof. He had
been cold and the pebbly surface of the shingles had scraped the soles of
his bare feet, but he had stretched out on his back, anyway, and had
watched the stars until the dawn had swallowed them.

     He had never wanted to be an astronaut when he was a kid. He had never
wanted to reach the stars, because their distance made them safe.

     There wouldn't be any starlight in the shower room. The windows there
had been blackened over when the team had set up in the warehouse. The
ceiling lights would be gleaming from Abe's wet body. The lather would be
sliding over his shoulders and down the groove of his spine and past the
curve of his buttocks and between his thighs.

     Finn muttered an oath and squinted at the star. No, Aldebaran would be
closer to the horizon. It was probably Capella.

     "What are you doing here, Braveheart?"

     Finn straightened up. "I'm guarding the door."

     Sandra tilted her head to the side and studied Finn. "Why? Are you
expecting trouble from that quarter?"

     "No, ma'am. I'm just ensuring our civilian guest gets some privacy."

     Sandra shifted the towel she was carrying to one arm and pointed to
the hand lettered card board sign that hung by a piece of string from the
door handle. It said Men's Shower – a clear invitation for some other to
walk in and do his business. Sandra flipped it over, the other side read
Women's Shower – this way, no one would come in while Abe was in there.

     They had used variations of this arrangement before, when Sandra had
accompanied them into the field. It had worked well, although no one had
made a big deal out of it when it hadn't. Modesty wasn't high on the
priority list for any of them. They were usually too focused on the mission
to get excited over an accidental glimpse of bare butt.

     Not that Sandra wasn't attractive. She was. She had an athletes' body,
a husky voice and the kind of delicate beauty that could have been painted
by Rembrandt. But it was more than her rank and army policy that put her
off limits. She had been up front about the fact that her heart still
belonged to the dead Special Forces soldier who had been her fiancι, and
the men respected that. Over the course of the past few years, she had
become like a sister to the soldiers of the Nighthawks.

     "Since when has anyone complained about the communal shower?"

     "Abe is not a soldier. He is not used to this type of place."

     "Uh-huh."

     "He is under enough stress. I don't want him to be nervous."

     "The only person who seems to be making him nervous is you, Finn."
Sandra crossed her arms and leaned one shoulder against the opposite side
of the door frame. "I don't think I've ever seen a gay man actually run
away from you before. It's refreshing."

     "Don't you start, too. I've already heard this from the guys."

     "Is that why you volunteered to be his baby-sitter?"

     "Someone had to do it."

     Sandra's eyes gleamed in the dimness. "Abe's a nice man."

     "Seems so." The sound of the water shut off. There was the soft splash
of bare feet in a shallow puddle and Finn pictured Abe walking across the
floor to the bench against the wall across from the shower heads. He had
been reaching for the towel now, his skin all rosy and damp.

     A snatch of melody drifted through the door. Abe was humming quietly
to himself, an old Beatles tune. Finn ran through the words in his mind. It
was something about still needing Abe and still feeding him when he was
sixty-four.

     "Abe's not your usual type, Finn. I thought you preferred tall
muscular blondes, like that model you dated last year who was into yoga."

     Finn turned his attention back to Sandra. "Yeah, and you probably
heard that I am not Abe's type either. It's unanimous all around. Works out
well, doesn't it?"

     "I don't know about that. You must find it tedious, with so much time
to kill while we wait."

     "We manage."

     "I heard that Jack and Wildman are trying to get a poker game going."

     "I can't afford to play cards with Jack. He's a shark."

     "Maybe Abe would like to play. I will ask him."

     "He's tired," Finn said immediately. "He wouldn't want to."

     "I'll ask him anyway. I'm sure Jack would be pleased to have him join
them." She watched Finn thoughtfully. "They have many interests in
common. Did you know that Jack's an expert on the Civil War? His great
grandfather on his mother's side fought for the Confederacy." Sandra's
right eyebrow arched teasingly. "Maybe Jack can show Abe his saber."

     Yes, Sandra was just like a sister, Finn thought. He hadn't had much
personal experience with any – none of his step-sisters had stuck around
long enough to bother to learn how to needle him – but Sandra was doing
a good job. "I heard his great grandfather was a riverboat gambler." Finn
muttered.

     "That too," Sandra said. "Abe would probably find that fascinating,
don't you think?"

     "Braveheart?"

     At the sound of the commander's voice, Finn twisted to look over his
shoulder. "Over here, sir," he replied.

     Ghost strode forward. He nodded to Sandra. "Captain, you will have to
postpone your shower."

     Sandra straightened up from the doorframe. "What's going on,
commander?"

     "Boko Haram has just made contact with Ibru."

     Finn felt his pulse pick up. "Have they set up another ransom drop?"

     Ghost nodded. "Ten tomorrow morning at the Lincoln Memorial. They have
upped the ante to thirty million. We are assembling for a briefing in
fifteen minutes. Where is Mr. Locke?"

     Sandra indicated the door to the shower room. "In there."

     "Get him. We couldn't get a fix on where the call came from, so this
is our best shot at locating Boko Haram base. We can't afford any mistakes
this time."

     Finn had already put his palm against the door to push it open when
Sandra's rasp on his arm stopped him. She gave him a quelling look, and
then used her free hand to rap on the door. "Abe?"

     A minute later the door swung open. Abe stood on the threshold, a
pale-peach jogging suit covering his body and a towel clutched in his
hand. His face was scrubbed clean. His eyes were wide, filled with a
mixture of apprehension and eagerness as he tilted his head to look up at
Finn.

     It was the same way he had looked at Finn two nights ago when he had
first opened the door to his apartment. It was ironic that it was about to
end the same way it had started. By ten tomorrow, Abe's role in this
mission would be over. He would go home. Finn would go on to the next
mission, the next man and the next goodbye.

     And as always he would make damn sure that he had been the one to
leave first.