Date: Mon, 15 Aug 2011 11:18:39 +0100
From: Micheal Chukwu <michealwitluv@gmail.com>
Subject: The Game 21

			  On The Way To Dilsemla

   Jake hadn't spoken a word. Not in the hour since he had said those
words.

   Jake stood in the velvety purple of the evening; he stood in the shadows
of the veranda, a frozen wrath that held up his hand when McCall tried to
talk to him, or make some half-assed explanation even he knew was
lame. Jake shrugged on the jacket McCall put on him when he couldn't stand
watching Jake shiver anymore, but Jake didn't give him a word of thanks, or
even acknowledge that he was there.

   And McCall just kept standing in the fuzzy light behind the door leaning
against the doorjamb, watching Jake. Hating himself for not having the
strength to walk away.

   Anson and the team arrived right on time. As they spilled out of the
choppers, the lethal force, Jake didn't move, didn't speak, didn't
acknowledge anyone -- not even Heidi, who shot a half-apologetic glance
Jake's way as the two stood parallel.

   But when Anson passed him, not bothering to speak to him, Jake spoke
seven quiet, bitter words. "Congratulate McCall. You've got what you want."
He stepped off the veranda and walked into the night, letting it enfold him
like a cold lover's touch.

   Yeah. Nice irony, McCall.

   Anson's face was so close to jubilant as it would ever be. "He gave you
what we need?"

   McCall nodded, pushing past him. "Tape recorder is in the bedroom." He
ran down the stairs.

   "Flipper don't do it." Anson said quietly. "He doesn't want you,
obviously. I'll send Braveheart. He's always good with women in
distress. He might work a magic on him."

   "Maybe, but this is my man." McCall snapped. "And I caused his distress
by putting duty first and getting the evidence. Go listen to it, boss. It's
all you care about. I'll clean up the mess my brilliant plan left behind."

   "Best to end this now, Flipper, before it goes any further. There's
always collateral damage in a war."

   McCall stalked back up the stairs and shoved his face right in front of
his regional commander, the man he had admired beyond any other -- until
tonight. And for once he didn't give a damn if his career went up in
smoke. "No man knows about collateral damage better than me -- but this
`damage' happens to be my man and the boy who is now my son. Did you think
of that when I set up this scam? I did -- I knew I'd be committing myself
to them today. I'm responsible for their lives and happiness from this
day. I want to be there for them when they need help, or when their safety
and security are in question. They are my family now."

   Anson sighed. "I guess I don't know you as well as I thought I did. This
is the job, Flipper. Whatever gets the job done is worth the cost. Give
them a safe place to live, enough money to be comfortable and a certificate
of divorce when he's ready to move on. You did your duty. No -- more,
you've done a top class job today, and I'll be recommending you for a..."

   McCall let Anson know what he thought of his recommendation with a few
words. "You know, I didn't believe Heidi when she said you'd let Jake and
Danny drop as soon as you got the evidence. I didn't believe Skydancer when
he said saving the world means more to you than the life of a real living
child in front of you. But they were right -- about me as well as you. Too
long on the job has made us inhuman. Do you care about anyone, Anson? Do
you love anyone, or do you hide behind your desk every day, go home to an
empty house and pretend that saving the world is enough to make you a
better man than the snot-nosed punk you were on the streets of New
Orleans?"

   His boss flinched -- literally flinched. "Go." The word was harsh, flint
like. "If it makes you feel better, find your man, make things. Get
involved, McCall -- and then you'll see how damn far it gets you." His face
was white and strained, his eyes dark with ancient pain, buried deep and
rotting from within. "Love him; give him and that kid all you've got, and
watch as it all explodes in your face like one of Falcone's bombs."

   McCall didn't even hesitate. He turned and vanished into the cold night,
calling, "Jake! Jake!" Too late, he knew hoe wrong he had been choosing
duty over love. He hadn't realized until he had looked at how inhuman he
had become in the past ten years, living only for the job. He had treated
individual people as pawns, as unfortunate victims, acts of avenge or
criminals to capture -- or that dirty term he hated now, collateral damage.

   Jake had made him care again. Danny had made him see just who it was
that he was fighting for. They had brought him back to life, made him a
better man. Jake had given him back his heart -- because he had always had
it, from the day they had met, and having Jake's heart in return made him
complete. Without Jake, he would return to the silent, isolated half
barbarian he had been all his life.

   Tonight, looking in Anson's hollow, bitter eyes, he acknowledged a
simple truth -- he wasn't meant to be alone, as he had always thought. He
needed that one special, wonderful man wandering in this darkness
somewhere, the man he loved with all his heart and soul and body and mind.

   McCall didn't want to end up soulless and alone, like Anson. He didn't
want to be a hero, with only the satisfaction of a job well done, memories
and a pension when he grew old. He wanted to be an ordinary guy with a home
and a dog and people to love, who loved him. He needed Jake, to become that
man. He needed Danny in his life, to keep reminding him of what he fought
for everyday, to remind him that he was neither human refuse, nor the
center of a save-the-world universe. He loved them -- both of them -- with
an awe-inspiring protective ferocity he wouldn't have believed just two
weeks ago. Jake was his man and Danny, his son. He really would fight the
whole damn world... even kill whoever he had to -- to keep them by his
side.

   Now he just had to convince Jake of that.

                                      ****************

    How did he face McCall?

   Jake stood shivering near the boundary fence by the McCrery farm,
fighting the temptation to get Danny and run. To find somewhere quiet --
preferably without spies -- and lick his wounds.

   How far would we get anyway? Morgan and Leslie would report it before I
got Danny out of bed and McCall would be here blocking my way.

   No, staying here was better.

   Yes, standing shivering in the dark makes a lot of sense, he mocked
himself. Making a fool of myself one way or the other, but at least this
way he doesn't see me cry.

   It really was sad -- pitiful, actually. But it was the ugly truth. He
had taken on another identity and crossed the world to escape the life he
wanted to leave behind, but the voice of yesterday had overtaken him
anyway. Jacob de Souza, the sexiest man alive had Brendan at his
feet... had tasted his first sexual rejection, the first rejection of his
heart at the ripe old age of twenty-eight... and maybe he wasn't as mature
or humble as he had though.

   Realizing that he had bought into the Jacob legend as much as people
like Falcone wasn't an epiphany he relished. Maybe he hadn't enjoyed
modeling, but it had sheltered him from some of life's harsher
realities. In his glittering world, he was the one who had rejected men. He
was the one who had kept his distance. He was probably the one who had hurt
countless people the way Brendan had hurt him today.

   Have I always been this self-centered?

   "Jake! Jake!"

   McCall had been calling him for the past few minutes, and every time he
had moved somewhere else. Childish and stupid, considering all they had
been through today, but he hadn't been ready to see McCall. Jacob, the
egoistic, immature child, strikes again.

   Jake lifted his chin and walked toward where he had heard McCall's voice
last. "Is it time to go?" he asked in as calm a voice as he could manage.

   "Jake." The growl was low, predatory -- ragged. McCall appeared from the
darkness, snatching Jake into his arms so fast Jake stumbled into. "I
thought you'd gone." He whispered in Jake's ear, sending hot shiver down
her spine.

   "Where would I go?" Jake's voice amazed him, cool and controlled, the
exact opposite to the heated need and gladness he felt at being so close to
McCall again, his passion for him driving the cold away. "This is a
Nighthawk training facility, so I presume the whole perimeter's covered. I
can't take Danny without you knowing. You told me I wouldn't get a mile if
I ran. I believe you. Until you have the tapes, at least." As the sweet
agony of being pressed against McCall's body threatened to overwhelm him --
reminding him of how he wanted to press his lips to McCall's -- Jake moved
against him. "I told you, I won't run. You can let me go."

   "No, I can't" McCall muttered, rough and hot. "I need you." His hand
tipped up Jake's chin and his mouth was on Jake's, conquering, demanding it
all. He walked Jake backward until he was up against a tree, McCall's hands
hard on his body, claiming, branding, with a searing iron.

   McCall's man.

   Somewhere in Jake's hazy passion, he made an unconscious decision: this
is the last time. But the pounding excitement took over. This was going to
be wild -- no bed, no gentle play. They were going to do it standing up in
the cold night, in a padlock against a tree...

   My man. Mine. If McCall was going to leave him tonight, Jake would make
absolutely sure that he didn't forget him.

   He claimed McCall with every hot, dragging touch over his skin, with
nipping kisses on his throat and shoulders, pulling at McCall's
jeans. "Now, McCall. Now." He demanded. Their pants were gone in a second,
their underwear followed a mili-second later.

   "Wrap your legs around me." McCall muttered against his ear, breathing
harshly.

   Jake did as he said and lean against the tree. McCall backed enough to
give him space to stretch. He was soon holding against the tree with his
back to the ground as McCall entered him as he spread his hips.

   The excitement was unbearable, the loving fast and raw, slaking violent
need. Jake climaxed within seconds and to his shock, the taut spiral
started again. He writhed and sighed and moaned, desperate for more and
McCall responded with guttural sounds and moving in him even harder, deeper
and Jake's body shook with the pleasure-pain gripping his entire body.

   "That's it, let go." McCall whispered in his ear, gravel edged, lush and
dark and hot.

   His words drove Jake over the edge, again.  He gave a somewhat animal
growl and let go, in beautiful, mind-integrating release. McCall followed
him with a louder growl. He then helped Jake up and kisses seemed to have
no end in sight. McCall cradled him close against his own body, his hands
protecting Jake from the roughness of the tree. He held him as if he was
more than just a mission subject or a one-night stand, and though Jake
tried so hard to remember why it was a bad idea, he couldn't fight his need
to lay his head on McCall's shoulder and whisper words of love in his
native tongue.

   "Flipper! Return stat!"

   The call snapped Jake out of floating euphoria. He gasped. "They have
flashlights. They'll see us!" McCall let go and Jake slid to the ground and
scrabbled around in the dark, trying to find their clothes.

   "Here!" McCall whispered.

   Jake grabbed his jeans from him and pulled them on fast. He was still
fumbling with the top button when a high-powered flashlight beam hit them
and he realized that it wasn't his jeans after all- it was McCall's.

   A woman's voice spoke. "Scarecrow cracked after interrogation -- it was
Scarecrow who attacked you in the hangar. Falcone bought him four months
ago."

   "Not long enough to be the rogue -- and he's too new. He doesn't know
enough." McCall muttered, sounding frustrated. "And how the hell did he get
into the facility?"

   "We don't know." The woman confirmed. "But we don't have time to
investigate. Something's going down. He told us a shipment of arms is less
than twelve hours from landing in Dilsemla, Commander. Suspected Iglas on
board. We've been told to intercept the shipment. There are two navy ships
ready to take control once we secure the ship, but the government wants us
to confirm the reality of the arms on board before they get official."

   "Let's go" McCall said briskly, heading for the house while Jake
listened in. "What's the ETA?"

   "Skydancer has a 35A Learjet in the hangar. ETA six hours if we push
it."

   "Who's piloting?"

   "Skydancer, sir -- you know he's magic with any kind of plane -- with
Panther copilot. You're needed to protect your subjects until you take
point in the underwater mission."

   Jake blinked, startled. "Am I going to this Dilsemla?"

   "No." McCall's voice was sharp as honed knife. "I refuse to take a
civilian -- not to mention a child -- into a damn war zone!"

   "You have no choice, Flipper. Orders are direct from Virginia this
time." McCall's boss stepped into the circle of light illuminating them as
they headed for the house. "We're the closest team -- there are two full
teams here, including PJ and SEAL-capable operatives. We can't leave him
here. We need him if we can't get a direct link from these weapons to
Falcone."

   "They can use Malaysian SEAL team." McCall argued.

   "They have been deployed on a critical mission. We are the only team
close enough to handle this without government interference."

   "Then we leave Jake and Danny with Countrygirl." McCall sounded so
fierce, so protective.

   "Yeah, that will work." His boss retorted witheringly. "A man who has
outrun the CIA and the Nighthawks in two continents -- not to mention
Falcone -- will still be here in a week if we leave him with a woman with
four kids, including a newborn baby."

   McCall snapped. "I'm not taking my husband and my son into
Dilsemla. It's not happening!"

   My husband. My son. He was claiming them publicly -- he and Danny
both. What had changed his mind in the last hour? "Where's Dislemla, and
what's Igla?" Jake asked to diffuse the fight.

   They both turned to him, McCall scowling ferociously, his boss
hesitating, his face closed. Yeah, he was a control freak, all right."I
think I have the right to know where I'm going, since it seems I am going."
Jake argued with a small, ironic smile. "I won't risk my son's life on your
say-so, um `boss'. No offense but I can't see you putting our welfare
before your objective."

   The man's face softened with a grin, bringing forth dimples -- things a
man as hard-ass as he was shouldn't have. "None taken, Mr. Silver, and call
me Ghost. Dilsemla is the capital Tumah-ra, an island in the Arafura Sea,
near Timor."

   "Ah." Jake nodded. "The oil fight? I gather Falcone sells his illegal
arms to rebel forces and warlords who are after control of the oil shelf?
You have to stop a shipment why?"

   "Yeah. Guns and bombs and Iglas." McCall said grimly before his boss
could speak. "Which are Russian-made portable one-man launch missiles,
favored by terrorists to attack planes or army bases up to four miles
away. It's too dangerous for civilians, Jake. It's no place for you and
Danny."

   Jake turned on him in a flash, so appalled and offended that McCall
still saw him as the prince; he forgot his own fears and obsessive need to
stay safe. "Oh? I can risk my life and safety for the sake of these people,
but it's no place for me? How do you figure that, Team Commander?"

   "You are great at stealth and hiding." McCall shot back, "not point
blank shooting at a kid holding a damn MP-5 in your face."

   "Excuse me," McCall's boss broke in tersely. "But since the shipment's
less than twelve hours from Dilsemla, I think you two can keep the argument
for the jet."

   "He's not going, boss. I won't let it happen."

   "He and the boy are going to Makanra, Flipper. It's been a safe zone the
past two months, held by the Australian SAS and the Tumah-ra government. A
full team will be in situ to protect them while you are on point, as well
as an SAS team within a ten-minute radius. We need you to take point on
this -- it has to be a SEAL-type mission and the Malaysian based SEALs
can't do it. Damn it, Flipper." He growled as McCall planted his feet, his
face dark. "Think about it. If the rebels get their hands on some Iglas..."

   Jake saw the tiny shudder rock McCall's frame. "A full team to protect
Jake and Danny?"

   "Eight, fully armed and right near the jet if they need it." Slowly,
McCall nodded. "We'll leave the puppy with Countrygirl."

   As if it were a signal, the Nighthawks dispersed, including
Ghost. McCall put his hands on Jake's shoulders. For Jake's comfort or his
own? Jake didn't know -- he had no idea what was going on in McCall's
mind. But one thing he had no doubt about now: however McCall denied it,
whatever he said or did to push Jake away, McCall cared about him.

   "You might as well say it." Jake said quietly. "You can't do any more
damage to my illusions of self-determination after that display of control
over my life."

   McCall sighed and pulled him close. "I'm not trying to control you,
Jake. I'm worried about yours and Danny's safety on the island. And the
worry will transfer to my concentration on the job and that will put the
entire team at risk."

   The bald, stark words stopped Jake mid-stride. "Oh."

   "It's a war zone, with the full show -- soldiers, rebels, snipers and
bombs. Men who'd sell their grandmothers for another bullet to pump into
the enemy. There's no guarantee of your safety, or of Danny's, even in
Makanra." McCall said quietly.

   Jake looked up at him. His bronzed face was pale in the ring of light
from the veranda, his eyes black as onyx. Resisting the need to wrap his
arms around McCall, Jake said what needed to be said. "Can you give me an
ironclad guarantee that'll be safe here, that nothing can happen to me if I
stay here with Leslie, or if I go home to New Zealand? Tell me Falcone's
men can't find us here, and I'll stay behind, and promise to be here when
you come back."

   McCall's eyes burned into his for a full minute, blazing hot with fury;
then his shoulders slumped. "I hate this whole situation. I just need you
to be safe." He muttered, pushing a lock of hair back from his face.

   Jake couldn't weaken now; too much hinged on this. So he stood straight
and still, watching him. "I need Danny to be safe and free. And I believe
our best chance of achieving that is with you and your team rather than
alone here. They know too much, and I couldn't put Leslie and her kids at
risk." Jake sighed. "The truth is, I can't do this alone anymore. I'm
exhausted. I have nothing left. I need you."

   McCall's head snapped up at Jake's words. His eyes searched Jake's with
intense question.

   Jake shrugged. "Whatever you've done to me personally, our best chance
of safety is with you. Your people will protect us with their lives -- at
least until they have the tapes. And a war zone is the last place Falcone
will expect us to go." He held out a hand to him. "So, can we compromise?"

   Before Jake could react, McCall pulled his flush against him. "Meeting
halfway." He murmured against Jake's mouth and in front of the entire team
now existing the house, he kissed Jake, long and hard, leaving no one in
doubt that they were together.

   "Flipper. To the van. Stat." Ghost tossed him a bag, which McCall turned
and caught with ease. "Heidi has your bag, Jake. Danny's at the jet with
Skydancer."

   The pretty woman tossed Jake his backpack. "There's a change of clothes,
and a shower on the jet." She whispered as she passed Jake, moving on so
that she missed Jake's vivid blush.

   "What's going on?" Jake asked quietly as he and McCall ran for the
jet. "You said that we can't be together only hours ago, yet now you are
claiming us, as if we really are married."

   "I am. We are."

   Jake's head spun with all that had happened to him today. He couldn't
work any of this out. "Why did you change your mind?"

   "Isn't it enough to know that I did?" McCall led him down the stairs,
toward the van that would take them to the local runway.

   Jake wanted to scream, to hit him. And he had accused him of playing
games? "No, it's not enough. You are controlling my life again, and I won't
let you without knowing why."

   McCall shrugged and kept walking, holding his hand as they walked over
the divots in the long dirt driveway. "You told me you love me, Jake. You
want to be with me."

   Jake bit his lip, but refused to lie to him; he'd done with lying. "Yes,
I do love you. But so does Danny, and he's an innocent little boy who has
already started thinking that he is getting another dad who will be with
him forever. And I'm not willing to risk you disappearing again, and
breaking his heart. Mine I can cope with. But not my son's."

   McCall led him over the cattle grid to the road. "I wouldn't hurt
Danny." He sounded amazed he'd even think it. "I'm crazy about that kid. Do
you think I'd leave him to the life I went through?"

   "Not intentionally." Jake stumbled along beside him, speaking without
rancor. He was too tired for anything but bald facts. "But a child needs
the stability of parents who also love each other and while I love you, you
don't love me."

   They reached the dark, oversized van. Jake climbed in, finding a space
beside Heidi, but one click of his fingers and Heidi, with an apologetic
smile, moved to the back. Jake sighed and looked out the window as McCall
moved in beside him, close but not crowding him.

   Not physically, anyway, Jake thought, scrubbing at his burning eyes with
a fist.

   "No, baby. I didn't make my feelings clear. I didn't tell you the
truth." McCall's voice was a gentle growl in Jake's ear. "I did set up the
op -- the escape, and the marriage, even telling you I'd let you disappear
-- to make you tell us who you are and get the tape. But I didn't tell you
how I feel about you."

   "Then don't know." Jake said wearily. "I don't know what's lie or truth
with you anymore." When McCall moved his mouth to Jake's ear, Jake held up
a hand. "People can hear us, I'm too tired for an argument, and I have to
explain to Danny yet again why he isn't getting this sleepover with his
friends."

   Jake felt McCall move away, but the reluctance hit him in waves. "This
isn't over."

   Tell me something I don't know, he wanted to retort. If he knew one
thing, it was that it wasn't over with McCall. It never would be, until he
could forget him. And from his experience in the past decade, that wasn't
going to be an option.