WAIGING WAR - CHAPTER 6
AN: Sorry this has taken so long to update. I was in LA LA land for a few days last week and I'm just now catching up in real life. (No, I didn't get to tour CBS studios or go by the garage, much to my disappointment) Thank you for your patience. I just want to tell you all how much I appreciate everyone who's reading and especially my faithful reviewers. Your words mean the world!
DISCLAIMER: I'm taking many liberties with history with the case portion of this story. Forgive me.
A 'firecracker'. Or a 'pistol'. That's what Paige's father would've called Happy if he'd ever had the dubious pleasure of crossing swords with her.
The female genius was five feet two inches of feisty bravado wrapped in filthy coveralls. The strike first before being stricken kind. Even though the diminutive dynamo wasn't much older than Sly, she was not only fighting the rampant distrust of anyone of Asian decent, but she was a woman with superior skills in an almost exclusively male profession. Paige couldn't help completely admiring her. And being a little bit in awe.
When Happy was standing in the Dineen's postage stamp living room rattling on about how she synthesized a polymer using palm sap and some other chemical goop she found around the motor pool to patch the leaks in the roof, Paige told her so. It effectively stopped the incomprehensible explanation mid-synthesis.
The mechanic stood there blinking for a full minute before she finally formulated a reply, "Oh… Uh, I guess you're okay too. For a normal."
Paige bit her lip to keep from laughing at the backhanded compliment. "I really appreciate you fixing stuff around my house too."
Happy shrugged, "It's the least I could do. You have a kid and all that. Plus, I've noticed Sylvester seems a little less scared of his shadow and Toby's been less of an annoying pain in my..." She cut her eyes in Ralph's direction, "…backside lately. And besides, Walter wouldn't shut up about it. Oh, and at least the food is edible when we're here. Better than army rations. I figure I owe ya."
It was only the second time the two women had met. Toby was absolutely correct when he said the machinist always got stuck with the shifts no one else wanted.
Every one of the geniuses was stuck with the very last ship out date too, apparently because of all the incidents of insubordination. None of them had much left to do relating to their specific areas of expertise. Instead, they were being forced to help dismantle equipment, inventory supplies and clean up the base for the projected reduction in personnel. As a result, they all spent every minute they weren't required to spend on base either at Stu's Bar and Grill or Paige's house.
The upshot for the waitress was free babysitting and home repairs. The downsides included the total lack of privacy, the utter dismissal of any sort of boundaries, and her grocery bill was going through her newly leak-free roof.
Not that she truly minded. Because Ralph was thriving under their attention. She had never seen her son more animated and engaged in his entire life. The constant care and intellectual stimulation from others like himself was rapidly drawing him out of his shell.
She adamantly refused to worry about what would happen when the geniuses returned to the United States. Particularly Walter. Ralph's attachment was growing daily and it was both endearing as well as terrifying.
A few days before, her son had tried on Walter's uniform garrison cap. Then the boy snapped an enthusiastic salute and said, "Look at me, Mommy! Corporal O'Brien reporting for duty!" She and Walter chuckled indulgently a few moments later as the hat sank down, bending Ralph's ears and covering his eyes.
The very next time they were together, Walter brought Ralph a smaller garrison cap of his very own. It was as if he'd bestowed the untold treasures of El Dorado on the boy. The hat was still too big, but her son wore it everywhere he went. Even to bed. And he thought his mother was being 'wholly unreasonable' when she insisted he couldn't wear it in the bathtub.
On this particular day, the whole gang was hanging around the Dineen house, filling it up beyond maximum capacity. Toby was being a distraction doing card tricks that were failing to impress both Paige's four year old and Sylvester. The three of them sat at the rickety, wooden picnic table in the tiny front garden. Sly kept waving his hand at Toby's face as if he was shooing away a pesky fly. The teen was attempting to show Ralph the basics of chess, his own well-loved board set up between them. Happy and Walter were busy patching up the roof and shoring up floorboards with supplies they'd commandeered while dismantling temporary structures at the military base.
Paige mostly left them to their own devices while she occupied herself frying chicken and making hot water biscuits for their dinner. August was morphing rapidly into early September, and the late summer heat left the kitchen miserably steamy. Even with all the newly repaired windows open and with her few fans running at full speed, the air felt still and sticky, warning her an afternoon thunderstorm was brewing.
She peered out the kitchen window above the sink and spied Walter replacing a sagging porch step. His khaki button down shirt, long since a forgotten casualty of the sultry weather, hung damp and limp over the porch rail, occasionally flailing in surrender to the sluggish breeze. As a result, Paige was enjoying the best view she'd ever had out that particular window. He was clad from the waist up in only a thin, army issue sleeveless t-shirt that stuck to his body like a second skin. The man was lanky, but his sinewy arm and chest muscles were well defined and slick with the sheen of perspiration. Oh, my.
Paige delivered herself a harsh lecture. They hadn't been alone since the night she'd almost kissed him after he helped her put Ralph to bed. He'd given no indication he was interested in her in that regard. And he'd been so kind. Of course she was attracted. But she shouldn't be covertly drooling over his body no matter how marvelously fit he was. It had just been so long since she'd felt anything remotely romantic or… sexual toward a man. The intensity of her reaction to him was a little shocking.
Thunder was a far distant rumble as Paige took the biscuits out of the oven. By the time she had the table set, lightening was ripping the bottom out of the clouds and rain gushed down sending the drenched geniuses running headlong for the shelter of the house.
Paige fussed over them, plying them with towels and hanging their wet clothes to drip dry by the open oven door. Ralph thought it was highly amusing to sit at the dinner table in his underwear with his male friends, all of them stripped to t-shirts and boxers.
In an attempt to keep her eyes from wandering over every deliciously exposed inch of Walter, Paige looked at everyone else around the table. In the process, she noticed Happy appeared to be having the exact same struggle keeping her gaze from lingering on a certain doctor. Well, well. That development was certainly interesting.
When they were just starting to pass around the food after thoroughly poking fun at each other's pale legs and lack of proper dinner attire, there was a loud knock at the door.
At first Paige thought it was the screen door banging in a gust of wind. But the noise came again, louder and accompanied by a curt voice saying, "Open up! US Army."
"Tell them we gave at the office," Toby quipped when Paige got up to answer the summons. Walter followed behind her protectively, a frown of concern on his face.
She peeked around the door at the older man on her porch. His gray crew cut matched his posture, both standing at rigid attention and he was wearing aviator sunglasses in spite of the dark clouds and the downpour. "I need to speak to Walter O'Brien," he barked.
Paige stepped back as Walter pulled the door open further in order to see around it, "What's this about…? Oh, it's you."
"You are a hard man to track down, O'Brien. Can I come in?" He addressed the question to Paige and she gestured for him to enter. The man extended his hand for her to shake as he peered over his glasses, eyeing Walter's state of undress up and down with an air of disbelieving censure. "Sergeant Cabe Gallo, ma'am."
"Oh…uh, it's not what you th-think, sir. There was a sudden cloudburst. They-they got wet." She was tripping over her tongue trying to explain why a half dressed soldier was in her house, when Walter interrupted. "You don't owe him an explanation, Paige. You don't owe him anything."
Walter's jaw was set and although his tone could seem cold and clipped at times, his voice sounded downright frigid. Rude and short were also not unusual, but the hate filled contempt was certainly new.
"Put it aside, O'Brien. Your country needs you. Trust me. I wouldn't be here asking if the situation wasn't dire or I had any other options," the sergeant ground out.
Trying to smooth over the obvious tension, Paige indicated the dining table crowded with gawking, eavesdropping geniuses. "Um, right this way. We were just sitting down to a meal. Would you like for me to set you a place?"
"Thank you. That won't be necessary, but I wouldn't say no to a cold drink."
Walter caught Paige by the elbow as she was turning to fetch Sergeant Gallo a glass of iced tea. "Don't bother. He won't be staying."
Glaring at the superior officer, he added, "Trust you? Is that a joke? I won't be doing any more of your dirty work. The outcome of our last venture was... less than favorable." His fingertips briefly bit into Paige's arm before he released her.
"That last op didn't go how either of us wanted it to go. But we have a situation that needs to be addressed. Everyone on this island could be in danger."
Walter clenched his jaw, then spat, "Let's have it. What corner has the army painted us all into now?"
"I need to read you in on this mission in private, son."
"Don't call me that. And whatever you came here to say to me, you can say in front of Paige or anyone else in this house. Or you can keep your secrets to yourself elsewhere."
Ignoring the belligerent tone, Cabe sighed and reluctantly elaborated, "This information doesn't leave this house. Clear? We've known for some time about the smuggling on this island and we've mostly turned a blind eye. We had bigger fish to fry, so to speak. But now that the war is more or less over, the brass has been cracking down and they've been sniffing around the base looking to tie up loose ends before the majority of us leave this rock for good. In looking over the inventory, they discovered the supplies being trafficked weren't just bacon and beans, medical supplies and building materials. Someone managed to get their hands on quite the cache of munitions... Included in that collection is an undetonated H bomb."
"How does the military lose track of a weapon like that?!" Paige exclaimed, eyes going wide and mouth dropping open in astonishment.
"Too many hands, too many forms. Too much chaos after we dropped the other two. Everyone thought everyone else secured the remaining ones. No one remembers laying eyes on it after the attack on Nagasaki. It was last seen on an aircraft carrier not far from here. We've had some intel it's going to be moved tomorrow night. It's just chatter. Nothing concrete. We've narrowed the suspect list down to four or five individuals. At least one of them is an inside man. We've been monitoring his activities, but so far he's been real slippery. We haven't been able to catch them at it or outsmart them. But I know a group of people who are smarter. Sylvester can look over the inventory and suspicious manifests to see if he picks up any anomalies. See if he spots any codes within the lists themselves or if he can track their movements using the numbers. It would back up our suspicions if Toby can get a bead on which ones are acting cagey. We need Happy to pick locks and help search the place. We need the both of you to help dismantle or disarm the bomb once it's found. I don't need to tell you what it means if this gets into the wrong hands. What's worse and what makes our time short? Our source told us their Plan B if they're caught or can't find a buyer is to detonate it to eliminate any witnesses, destroy all the evidence and cover their tracks."
Paige gasped, "And kill everyone on the island in the process?"
Cabe expression was grave. "These people are ruthless. They would consider civilian casualties collateral damage. It wouldn't faze them in the slightest."
"Sounds familiar," Walter's lips thinned as he glared at the other man.
Paige touched the genius' tense shoulder. "What does that mean? Walter? What do you mean by that? We can't sit by and let innocent people die."
The hard look in Walter's eyes softened as his gaze met hers. "Don't worry, Paige. I'm going to help. You and Ralph will be safe. I will not let anything happen to you. I promise."
The sergeant's eyebrow lifted at the uncharacteristic show of sympathetic affection. "There's a party to celebrate VJ Day at the Dusit Thani Hotel tomorrow night. All the suspects will there for one reason or other. Our source will make sure you're all on the guest list." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully on Paige. "It would look less suspicious if you attended as couples. How do you feel about being a plus one, Miss Dineen?"
"Not a chance. I won't have her in such dangerous company," Walter growled.
"She's in dangerous company every day she goes to work. Her boss is actually one of the possible perpetrators," Cabe answered.
"I have nothing to wear," Paige blurted. When they flashed her uncanny identical incredulous looks, she added, "I'm not being a diva. I mean it. I'm a broke waitress. I don't have anything to wear to a fancy party."
"I'm sure the army can furnish you with whatever you need," Cabe reassured her, shaking his head.