Persona Non Grata
By: MusketeerAdventure
Summary: Being Ash Spenser's son is a heavy burden; but when an opportunity comes calling its Clay's chance to get out from under his father's mistakes.
As per usual, no matter what time or part of the day – this place was packed.
Clay sighed and surveyed the large open space. Noisy and surprisingly claustrophobic, the large and cavernous mess hall held no real interest for him. Voices echoed all around, but the conversations were lost; muffled and obscured. His mind had already dismissed the animated surroundings and wandered off instead to last night's satisfyingly violent endeavors.
Picking over his half eaten Salisbury steak, and runny mash potatoes, Clay mused over his sore and bruised knuckles. Wincing, he touched the tender spot just under his left eye, and hoped no one took any serious notice of the puffy blue tinge forming there.
Frowning, he thought about last night's fight at the local bar, and wondered curiously as to how alive he felt in the midst of flying fists; blows to the body and the yells of encouragement…all for the other guy. Grabbing for his ribs, he winced in pain and let out an inaudible groan. Today he was paying the price for feeling such satisfaction.
Unfortunately, today he needed to be at his best.
Looking across the mess hall at the table just adjacent, Clay noticed a group of team mates from Green Team huddled together – laughing; talking, remarkably enjoying the meal but more so each other's company. They had made a point to not sit or socialize with him. So, as usual, he sat alone – ostracism complete.
His name – his father's tell all book, and also his prickly attitude, he supposed – made it clear that he was an outsider; and like his father, was not to be trusted.
Why did he even bother? Their perceptions should have no bearing on him.
But then his eye caught Lewis Berry sporting a fabulous shiner, and dabbing gingerly at his freshly cut lip. Inwardly he smiled, and put down his fork – rubbing his knuckles; reminiscing on the very moment his fist made contact and split that yammering lip.
That's why he bothered…to show them up. To prove he was just as good as they were. That their dreams of being a Navy SEAL were his dreams too. To show them that this apple fell far, far, from the ubiquitous tree. That he was in a whole different orchard. That he was not his father.
Right now they scorned him; turned their backs to him and left him hanging. But soon, his luck would change. He just had to keep at it…work harder; think faster – be smarter. If nothing else from his father, he learned self-preservation. He had made it this far. He would do this.
Coming back to himself, Clay saw that Brian was now seated across from him, chowing down on his lunch as if this were his last meal. Chuckling, he pushed his tray of half eaten food over for him to finish off.
"Thanks man", Brian muffled over the food stuffed full in his mouth.
Clay smiled. "You're welcome," he offered, then laughed aloud adding, "Where do you put it all?", and for the thousandth time wondered why Brian was so friendly to him. Whereas the others barely tolerated him as a team mate – Brian was eager to train with him, share notes with him, offer advice; go drinking with him – eat with him, and laugh with him.
Why?
Clay was envious. Brian was such a good guy; the best of Green Team and he didn't even have to work at it. Everything seemed to come easily; almost effortless. Everyone liked him; sought out his company; smiled when he complimented them; shared their triumphs and lows with him.
He was the ultimate leader.
Clay sighed, and knew that one day in the future, they would no longer be equals. Between them would be "sir" and a salute. Brian deserved no less.
"Look," Brian whispered in awe through squished green peas between his teeth, and pointed with his fork. "But don't look too fast," he chastised as Clay twisted in his seat to see who it was that impressed Brian so much.
Swallowing down a piece of pie with coffee, Brian continued – "That's the legendary Jason Hayes with Bravo Team." Gesturing for Clay to look just beyond them, he pointed out, "Steve Porter, with Echo Team", - his voice going ever softer, "James Tack with Alpha."
And as the Tier One elite teams walked in to find seats of their own, their aura sucking the air out of the room, Master Chief Siever called out over the noise, "Green Team, stand to!" So they all without hesitation stood to erect attention – from their seats, in the chow line, in transition from one place to another – silent; still; backs straight as arrows… waiting for the command to stand down.
Clay watched the teams intently and felt his chest swell with ambition. One day, that would be him, a full-fledged SEAL, on one of the Tier One Teams – one of the best. It was what he'd worked his whole life for.
An elbow poked his ribs; he winced and turned to see Brian smiling at him, his own ambition shining through his eyes – nodding with determination. Clay nodded back – a silent promise passing between them.
One day…that's us.
When Master Chief Siever's, "Stand down!" came; the hall once again echoed with movement and enthusiastic chatter.
"That's the kid I was telling you about." Ray said, nodding to his right.
Brow creased, Jason took notice of the serious looking young man seated with only one of his Green Team members. "Ash Spenser's kid?", he questioned.
Hearing some doubt in Jason's voice, Ray imparted, "He's not Ash Spenser." When Jason didn't respond he continued, "Adam tells me that out of them all, except for maybe one, he's positive that he has what it takes to be a Tier One Operator."
"Oh yeah?", Jason wanted to know, "Whose the other one?"
"That would be Brian Armstrong. The young fellow he's sitting with."
Jason took a gulp of his coffee and considered the complication of Ash Spenser. He had never met the man, but from what he understood Ash Spenser had been a good operator; well respected and still had friends high up in the Navy. Writing that book however, had broken an unwritten cardinal rule of the brotherhood, and had shined a light on their profession – things meant to stay in the shadows. Things not meant to be bandied about on book tours and television interviews.
No wonder the kid sat apart.
Was he like his old man? Would he spill all their secrets? Could he be trusted? Was he too arrogant for his own good? He did get a sense of a hot head – the bruise under his left eye, the grab at his ribs … a dead giveaway to some recent altercation.
"His simulation is in a few hours. I'd like you to see what he's about." Ray insisted.
After a pause, Ray took the plunge. "We need a sixth Jason. It's time to start looking." The unspoken plea that it was time for them to move on, accept that Nate was gone was heard loud and clear.
Jason nodded, Dr. Kruger's words ringing in his ears. His inability to speak of Nate, the blood on his hands was crowding out his need to accept his loss and choose a replacement. It was having an effect on his judgment.
His eyes fixed on Clay Spenser, Jason stood from his seat – waiting… waiting; and there it was – the kid, sensing his scrutiny, turned and returned his gaze, unflinching; his eyebrow arched in curiosity.
"Only for you Ray" Jason muttered, then made his way out of the mess hall. Walking slow and steady, he could feel a hole boring through his back as the kid watched him leave.
Hours later, after the kid's simulation, Jason walked out with his hands shaking. He knew exactly what Clay Spenser was about. He was talented; saw shades of gray; was cocky, confident…and wanted to be the one who was always right. He was a smartass and hoped he'd never have to work with him; because that kid was going to get himself killed.
It was Nate all over again.
When he returned from the mission in Liberia, it seemed that all of Green Team descended on him in the cage, wanting to know what it was like to be a part of a Tier One team like Bravo…no matter how brief. So insistent they were that he hadn't a chance to put away his gear; shower and change his clothes.
Being the center of attention felt uncomfortable; but if he were honest, getting accolades for his skills instead of being the son of PNG'd Ash Spenser felt great. It felt good to get from under his father's mistakes, which had somehow become his mistakes as well.
But after giving his censored account of how Bravo Team saved the hostage; the tactical genius of Master Chief Hayes; and bringing down the bad buy, he just felt exhausted. As his team mates peeled away one by one, Clay sat heavily in a chair thinking back on his experience; and admitted to himself that he still had a lot to learn.
His admiration for Master Chief Hayes had been vaulted to a whole other level.
This is who he wanted to be…brash; brave; smarter than anybody else in the room – a hero; a true leader. Mind made up, Clay set his goal. Bravo was the team he wanted to shoot for…be a part of. They were a family and he wanted to be a part of it.
If he continued to work hard; prepare better; keep his mouth under control…maybe Master Chief Hayes would no longer see Ash when he looked at him. He would see him.
A hand on his shoulder startled Clay from his reverie.
"Don't let your head get too big for your britches!" Brian laughed good naturedly; then added seriously, "Congratulations." As Brian walked away he called out over his shoulder, "Meet you at the bar for a drink later." Clay nodded back, basking under the glow of Brian's sincere compliment and praise. He hadn't felt this happy in a long time.
After a while, Clay sighed and stood wearily to his feet; tired, but eager to turn in his gear, shower and meet up with his friend.
And there at the doorway, entering with great stealth was Jason Hayes himself; who stood with arms crossed; his face set like granite. "This was not an audition." he announced gruffly; his head bowed in concentration. Clay felt his mouth go dry. "You think you know it all, but you don't. And my thought on your performance has nothing to do with that damn book."
"No sir, I mean yes sir" Clay answered back anxiously; as Jason left as quietly as he had come. Only in his heart Clay hoped he had made an impression – that he was good enough to be considered; that once and for all he could finally shed his father's failings, and live his own life beyond them.
He was hopeful.
Thank you for reading. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Also, I want to say thank you to those of you I could not respond to for my previous story. Your response to and comments for 'Conquer' were much appreciated.
A request was made to address Ash Spenser's interview regarding his new book, and the implication that Clay was his source, and to give an account of the aftermath. I was unable to do that, but instead the prompt sparked an idea and got me thinking about this very issue going back to season one episode one 'Tip of the Spear'. There's not a lot of action;just a whole lot of introspection! I hope you enjoyed it.
Thank you AZGirl.