Chapter 25
Kestrel looked intently at Sam and Briggs, anguish in his heart and turmoil in his mind, making his head spin. He asked them again:
_ Do you still think I'm lucky? That I can tell myself that I've done my job and have to move on? And just tell myself that a useless leg is a small thing to cope with?
On the sofa opposite him Sam looked stunned and devastated, and next to him Briggs was sobbing in his hands, visibly terribly sorry for him. But Kestrel needed something else than pity from them. Since they had bothered to cross the country to come and see him, they had to do more than listening. So he waited for them to digest the story, reclining back on his armchair and some deep part of him, one he was ashamed of, wishing he hadn't stopped drinking five years ago.
At long last Briggs regained composure and said:
_ What can I say after that, mate? One thing is clear for me, though. Sam is right, you have a truly formidable strength. You've lived through so much that you must have steel cables instead of nerves. And I'm absolutely sure you'll find the strength.
Kestrel simply shook his head, just weary and feeling dizzy after his outburst. His thigh was aching, but it was nothing compared to the pain of his memories. Telling his close friends about it had been very difficult, and now his mind was flooded with gruesome images from the butcher shop and aching memories. His vision blurred, and he dimly wondered if his mind wasn't simply overheating and wanting to be turned off. But when he started to feel nauseous and the world spinning a little too much for his comfort, he called out, weaker than he would've wanted:
_ Briggs! Sam! I... don't feel well...
He felt himself falling sideways and blacked out as his head collided with the low table, feeling more miserable than ever and part of him wanting to cut the losses right now. But as his vision went black Elena's image surged in his mind, and he felt comforted. He would fight, and be with her again.
When he came round, he was lying on some soft surface, and he dimly heard voices around him. He focused on the sounds and soon recognized Sam and Briggs, obviously talking to somebody on the phone. As the voice resonated through the loudspeaker he thought that he knew the voice, but it took him ten more seconds to identify it. It was Dr Collins, and he was saying:
_ … and keep his legs up. He must've had a vasovagal episode. Nothing worrisome, but tell him to stay still for the rest of the day.
_ Okay, doc, Sam's voice said as he felt his legs being lifted then carefully laid on some cushions. But why has he had a vasovagal episode in the first place?
_ Has he made huge efforts since this morning? Has he eaten enough?
_ Yes, and no. He ran and collapsed, and when we had lunch he ate about half of what he usually eats.
_ Well, there you are. Don't worry, he'll be all right. But tell him to have a nap and stay on the sofa till this evening. I know he won't like it, but it's better for him.
_ Thanks a lot, doc. So, have you had your new appointment?
_ Not yet. I'm on holidays until the end of the month. I've accumulated so much leave that I must take them before going to my new post.
_ Okay. Well, thanks again, doc, and enjoy!
_ I will, Sam. And you, take care, and please tell agent Kestrel to be careful.
_ Will do, doc. Bye.
_ Goodbye, Sam.
Kestrel opened his eyes slowly, trying to focus on the wooden beams above his head, but his vision was still fuzzy. However he heard Briggs exclaiming:
_ Mate! You're awake? How are you feeling?
He saw his best friend's blurred face appear in his peripheral vision, and answered calmly:
_ I don't really know, мой друг (my friend). I can't see you very well yet.
Sam's face went right above him, and the Splinter Cell asked him grimly:
_ Mishka, is your head spinning?
_ Not anymore, he said truthfully. But my eyesight is still fuzzy.
_ Dr Collins told us that it could occur, Briggs explained seriously. It will be clear again in about half an hour, mate.
_ Good. What happened to me? I heard something like... vasovagal episode?
_ Yes, Sam confirmed. Don't worry, it's quite a minor thing. Happens to anybody.
_ I had one during college, Briggs recalled darkly. The staff thought I was arresting, they made useless CPR and broke two of my ribs.
_ Lucky you, Kestrel smiled faintly.
_ Do you feel better, sonny?
_ Yes, Sam, thanks. I feel better lying down.
He vaguely saw the two men sitting down next to him, and silence fell. He knew they were probably still thinking about what he had told them and just waited. He couldn't tell them more, it was just too painful. Finally Sam said quite sullenly:
_ I wish we could help you more, sonny. But what can we do?
_ You're here, he answered as calmly as he could. You couldn't have done better to help me. And Briggs offered me to find a job together. That would help me a lot.
_ Do you have any idea about that? Briggs asked him carefully.
_ Not yet. The thing is, I have two major problems. First, my leg, which will prevent me from having a physical job. And second, I'm quite allergic to working indoor. I just can't picture myself sitting at a desk or working with a computer. All in all, a tough mission it'll be for me indeed.
_ But what would you want to do?
_ If I could, he said after a few seconds of thinking, I'd like to stay in my area of expertise. A job with guns or combat fighting. That's what I really like.
On his left Briggs nodded thoughtfully, visibly thinking about it, and on his right Sam kept silent. He couldn't see his face clearly, but the Splinter Cell looked like he was having an idea. And he suddenly asked:
_ And you, Briggs? What would you want to do?
_ Same thing as Mishka, the ops answered calmly. If I could find a job like in Fourth Echelon, but without the missions, it would be perfect. But I'd like to add an analyst job to all that. Maybe some private security firm would hire us.
_ Maybe, Sam said with a strange voice.
He got up and left, smartphone in hand. Puzzled, Kestrel asked his best friend:
_ Where is he going?
_ Outside, Briggs answered seriously. I don't know why, though.
Kestrel shrugged and closed his eyes. He was feeling a little better, but the memories were still at the back of his mind, taunting him. Part of him wished he hadn't opened his own Pandora's box, but it was too late. And he knew that talking about it was the right thing to do, even if it was terribly painful at first. But the pain and shame would fade, and maybe disappear for good someday, who knew?
Silence fell for a few minutes, then next to him Briggs took a deep breath, and he braced himself, recognizing the sound of a coming question that would probably hurt him. And as planned, Briggs asked hesitantly:
_ Mate, what happened to your foster parents? Are they still alive?
_ For my foster mother I don't know, he said as Sam came back and sat down again. She and her husband finally divorced after I ran away. But my foster father died of lung cancer nineteen years ago. I was told he died suffering horribly. There's some justice in this world, after all.
He smiled faintly, thinking that his executioner had got what he deserved, and Briggs didn't comment. Finally, Sam said calmly:
_ I've got a job for you two, if you're interested.
_ What? Briggs exclaimed in surprise. How...? What job?
Kestrel felt better and curious, so he sat up on his sofa, oblivious to his friends' protests, and simply asked a frowning Sam:
_ What job?
_ Two quite different jobs, but in the same firm, Sam explained calmly. Vic's firm.
_ Sam..., Briggs started, visibly embarrassed.
_ Wait, sonny, Sam smiled. You'd regret not listening to me.
_ Go on, Sam, Kestrel said, trusting his old boss.
_ Vic calls on a private firm to train his men, and it costs him a fortune. So when I told him about you two, he almost wept in relief. So here is what he offers: for you, Briggs, a teaching post for data analysis, physical fitness and the use of technological stuff.
Sam paused, grinning at Briggs' startled but delighted expression, and went on, locking eyes with his other ops:
_ And for you, Mishka, a post of weapons and close combat instructor. Vic told me that you wouldn't need to use your leg too much, as it would be only improving his agents' techniques. But they do need training with weapons, apparently, and you've always been the best.
He fell silent, and Kestrel thought about the offer. It was tempting, for sure, he thought dimly, and it would fulfill all his wishes. And Victor Coste's firm, Paladin Nine Security, was now based in Baltimore, so it would be perfect.
He shot a still blurred but grateful look at Sam who grinned wider, and told him:
_ I'll think about it, and talk with Elena. But this offer is very tempting.
_ I knew it, Sam rejoiced, sounding relieved. What about you, Briggs?
_ I'm positively thrilled, Sam! That would be perfect for me. But will we be able to work for him without any problems from our old status of government agents?
_ No problem at all, Sam stated calmly.
_ And what about the salary?
_ Vic offers you and Mishka 50.000 dollars a year.
_ And we'll have our pension in addition, Briggs said, sounding impressed. That's quite generous of him!
_ If you're truly interested, Vic told me he wanted to discuss the offers with you as soon as possible. But he knows that you need holidays, so it can wait until next week.
_ Good, Briggs nodded. We'll think about it in the meantime.
_ When do you go back to Baltimore? Kestrel asked, his vision slowly blurring even more.
_ On Friday, his best friend answered him. Like you, isn't it? We take off at 10.52 am.
_ Like me, indeed, he sighed, lying back on the sofa again. That's good, we'll travel together.
_ Are you okay, sonny? Sam asked in concern.
_ Yes, I think so. Don't worry, Sam. It's just that my eyesight is getting worse, and I feel quite tired.
_ Then have a nap, mate, Briggs said.
_ I'm sorry.
_ Don't be, sonny, Sam told him kindly as he and Briggs rose. You need rest, mentally and physically. So sleep.
_ What are you going to do?
_ We'll settle down, the Splinter Cell told him, and I think I'll have a nap too before cooking dinner.
_ Good idea, Briggs yawned loudly. See you later, mate.
Kestrel, feeling himself sinking deeper into the sofa's cushions, didn't have time to answer before falling asleep.
He dreamed he was in his apartment in Baltimore, sitting on the sofa, and the doorbell rang. He went to open and was blown to see Alpha on the threshold, wearing her old fatigues and looking good. She beamed at him and said joyfully:
_ Hello, Misha! Can I come in?
Bewildered, dumbstruck and a little embarrassed, he nodded and let her pass. She sat on the sofa, beckoning at him to sit next to her, and when he had done she said calmly, still smiling:
_ I wanted to congratulate you, Misha. You've found a wonderful family. Do you have a photo to show me?
Still in utter disarray he took out his smartphone and searched for a photo of Elena and Aliosha he had taken a few days before, then showed it to her. She looked intently at it, grinning widely, then said as she handed him back his phone:
_ Elena is really beautiful and looks kind and happy. And Aliosha is so cute! I'm so happy for you, Misha!
_ Alpha, he said at last, I... I'm sorry...
_ About what? You living again at last? You finally being happy and fulfilling your dreams of a wife and children? Don't be sorry, Misha. It was high time you started to live fully at last. And if you think you betray me, then know that you're completely wrong. I know you still love me, deep in your heart, but it seems like you've finally understood – took you long enough, by the way – that having a family with a dead person wasn't possible. So stop beating yourself up about being happy, please.
_ Alpha, he murmured, his voice choked with emotion, it's true I'm really and deeply happy with them. I love them so much! But it's hard for me not thinking that I'm betraying your memory.
She took his hand and said seriously, locking eyes with him:
_ If I remember correctly, I myself gave you my blessing five years ago. So please stop being stupid! How could you be happy if you stay lonely for all your life? Having close friends is good but not enough, you know it. But I know that you're not at ease with your conscience. That's why I've decided to come and see you.
She paused, carefully looking at him, then went on:
_ Misha, you're going to make peace with yourself right away and accept to let me go.
_ What? he asked in alarm. But... how...?
_ Easy, she explained calmly. You will decide right now that you'll live your life with Elena and Aliosha, and let me go where I belong: in your memories.
_ Alpha, I... I can't do that! he protested weakly. I still love you!
_ You love a memory, she told him with a small smile. One that cannot make you happy or enlighten your life like a real family can do. So I want you to tell me farewell, Misha. You still can go and visit my grave from time to time if you want, but you'll start living fully from now on. Okay?
_ I...
_ Misha, she sighed, don't let the memories consume your will for life and your strength, like I know they do right now. What you've lived through is truly horrible, but one good thing about the shadows of the past, like Briggs said, is that they're just that: shadows. And we mustn't mistake them for the lights. If you look at the shining sun, the shadows disappear. They're behind, and it's true they'll never leave you, as they're part of your being. But you can choose to focus on the light, and let them in the background. Do you understand?
_ Yes, he admitted. I understand, Alpha.
_ Good, she beamed. We'll soon see. I'm still very real in your mind, like right now in your dream, but if you let me go I'll leave your dream and fade in your memory, where I belong. So, Misha, are you ready?
_ I really don't know, he said, turmoil swirling in his mind. I'm so much confused! The memories of my childhood and youth are so painful, everything's so heart-wrenching and confusing!
_ But you're there, she said calmly, her hand still holding his. Your mind is firmly anchored there, in Baltimore, because that's where you want to be. So chase the bad memories away, come on!
_ How?
_ Look, she pointed at the locker in the corner.
He stared at the locker and saw shapeless dark things lurking and swirling in it, things that made him anguished. He asked:
_ Are these...?
_ Yes, she confirmed. These are your worst memories. They'll always be in some part of your mind, of course, but you can choose to store them well away from you and what matters for you. And you can do it in this dream, by ordering them out of your place.
He concentrated hard, then ordered firmly:
_ Out!
And amazingly, the things obeyed! They hurriedly floated towards the door which opened by itself and exited, and the door slammed shut on them. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest, allowing him to breathe deeper. And next to him, Alpha said:
_ Very good. Now you'll be able to do the same with your problems: your leg and your forced retirement. But I know you're not quite ready for that. Don't take too much time, though. You'll soon need all your ressources for a much more important matter.
_ What do you mean? he asked in dread.
_ Not to worry, she beamed at him. But if I were you, I'd phone Elena. She didn't dare tell you about her yesterday since you felt so depressed, but the poor girl doesn't feel well.
_ And why are you rejoicing? It's...
_ Misha, she shook her head in exasperation. What would make me rejoice at her not feeling well? Think about it!
He thought about it, and a sudden possibility hit him hard. He asked, not wanting to believe it:
_ She isn't... pregnant, is she?
_ Very good, Daddy!
Completely stunned, he simply looked at her delighted expression, and soon grinned widely. A father! He would be a real father! He asked her:
_ Is it for real? We're in a dream, after all.
_ True, she nodded, but this is real, Misha. And now, I have to leave. Or rather, you have to make me leave. You don't need me anymore, and I know you'll be happy from now on.
He looked at her a long time, seeing her serious and loving expression, and inhaled deeply, gathering his courage, before saying, crying a little:
_ Alpha, thank you for everything. I'll always love you, deep in my heart, but now I have a family that I love deeply and who loves me. I'll be a caring boyfriend and father, and one day I'll ask Elena to marry me. So it's farewell, you can leave me. I'll be okay.
She beamed at him a last time, kissed him on the cheek and hugged him, then went to the front door and left, saying simply:
_ Farewell, Misha.
And he woke up, tears streaming down his cheeks but feeling that he had done a huge step towards his peace of mind, and just wanting to be with his family again.