Chris leaned back in the rugged seat of his old military truck. With his eyes closed, he took a drag on his cigarette, breathing in the smoke, breathing out. In and out- until the slight shaking of his hands subsided. Probably it had been a rather stupid idea to wash down his sleeping pills with two or three bottles of beer before making his way home. And on empty stomach. But then again, those sleeping pills took damn long to have any effect on him. So, why wait.
Realistically, he had no reason to get drunk and try to flee from reality. On the contrary, he had a task, a new mission: he had a brand new Alpha-Team to work with Promising men, all of whom he had chosen himself. His new second in command, Piers Nivans, was told to be the man "who never missed a shot" and so far this proved to be true. He would have to teach this men on becoming a well-coordinated team. To function as a unit. They were all eager to learn, no doubt there. Still, those men were practically strangers to him. It was not like working with Jill. Not at all.
Maybe he should contact Claire. Just to talk.
"Fuck, man, pull yourself together!". Chris slammed his fist on the wheel, then turned on his radio on full noise. He put the car in reverse and stepped on the accelerator. The old truck leapt backwards- WHUMP- and collided with something. "Oh shit!" Chris whirled around in his seat just in time to see Lieutenant Piers Nivans slowly getting up grabbing for support on Chris truck.
"Damn it" groaned Chris "I just run over the best sniper of the BSAA!" Chris hurried to get out of the truck.
Piers Nivans, newly made lieutenant of Alpha team, was already back on his feet and dusting his sweatpants. He looked a little pale, but mostly unharmed.
„Wow, Nivans! I´m so sorry. Are you alright?" Chris hold out his hands in an awkward manner, not sure whether to try and support his lieutenant or not.
Piers shook his head like a confused dog, then made a quick check of his limps. "I´m ok, Captain, don´t worry. Should have seen that coming, Captain."
"You think you should have seen your Captain hitting you with his car coming?" Chris asked a little unbelieving.
"Ah, your right Captain, probably couldn´t have. You're an unpredictable man." Piers laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. "Well, I mean, it´s wasn´t your fault, Captain. It´s quite dark and I wasn't paying much attention to where I was running."
Always the model soldier, always exemplary, our lieutenant, thought Chris. He didn´t say that aloud, not wanting to insult his lieutenant.
Instead he asked „Where were running to?"
"I was on my way home to the base. Thought I would jog, you know, get a little extra exercise."
And again, the lieutenant was the perfect little soldier.
"Well, should head back, probably, Sir." Piers mumbled after some seconds of silence. "Have a pleasant evening, Captain." He waved and started to walk away, but he was limping slightly and illuminated by the headlights of his truck Chris could see his lieutenant wince in pain. Chris grimaced. "Hey, Ace, how about I drive you home. After all, I just hit you with my car." "Nah, Captain, I´m fine. Don´t want to keep you away from your …uh… appointments. "
As if Chris had any appointments.
"Get in the car, Nivans. No discussion, this is an order."
Piers glanced at the empty pack of cigarettes, crumpled fuel receipts and crumbs in the passenger seat, but refrained from comment. Instead, he just flopped into the passenger seat.
When starting the engine, the radio burst into life. It was loud, really loud.
Bruce Springsteen was practically screaming "Waitin` on a sunny day" at them.
"Sorry", Chris turned down the volume.
"That´s the Boss?" Piers asked, when the noise allowed making conversation again. "I´m the Boss", Chris said, fully knowing that Piers referred to Springsteen's nickname. Lame joke, but it actually made Piers smile.
After that, they drove in silence, Piers rubbing his ankle from time to time. Probably hurt quite a bit.
They had made about three quarters of the way when the sleeping pills hit in. Or the alcohol. Probably both. Chris could feel his eyelids getting heavy and his vision blurring. Ok, this wasn´t supposed to happen. At least, not jet. If he had been driving alone, he would probably just speed up and hope to get home before he´d fall asleep behind his wheel. Alternatively, he would just park the car somewhere and sleep in it. However, he had his lieutenant with him, ever-professional Piers Nivans, so none of this was an option. Maybe some food and water would help him to sober up a bit.
When they passed the bright yellow and green sign of a gas station, Chris made a U-turn, causing Piers to hold on the dashboard, and took the exit to the station.
"I think the tank is full, Captain." Piers observed. Chris gave him a sore look.
„I thought, I´d get you some crushed ice, for your foot. Stop the swelling, you know. We need you in top form tomorrow, Ace."
"Pff, don´t worry, Captain. Just a scratch. I´ll be fine, tomorrow."
"Damn it, soldier. Can you please do me a favor and at least pretend you're suffering so I can keep pretending to buy crushed ice and save myself the shame of having to admit I'm stopping because I need something to eat? "
On cue, Chris stomach growled. Piers looked at him, brows furrowed.
"On the other hand, Captain…" he added, "it probably will throb a lot if we won´t do anything about it. I can already feel it becoming black and blue."
So Chris went to the little shop of the gas station, bought some coke, a sandwich, new pack of cigarettes and a huge bag of crushed ice. He prepared to eat and drink in his car, but found Piers walking towards the shop, limping visibly.
"Don´t overdo it, Ace."
The limping stopped immediately. Much to his surprise, Piers flipped down on the stairs to the shop stretching out his legs. Chris handed over the bag of crushed ice and Piers pressed it against his foot, dutifully.
Chris gulped his sandwich down in two or three large bites, then downed his coke. He looked down at Piers, who was watching him carefully. A sniper through and through! "Did you want some?" he asked his lieutenant, waving with the empty can. „Nah, thanks." Nevertheless, Chris got up, bought a second sandwich and a coke and held it out to Piers, who took it without hesitation.
Sitting on the porch of the gas station, they did some small talk, mostly about weapons and cars until Piers finished his food. Chris realized that he had spoken very little to Piers before, even though it had been himself who had hired the sniper and made him second in command.
After Piers finished eating his sandwich, they walked back to the car, but Piers didn´t hop into the passenger seat when Chris opened the truck doors. Instead, he took a deep breath and held out his hand. "What?" Chris looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
Piers bit his lower lip. "I will drive now, Captain." he stated. Chris stared at him. "If you don´t mind, Sir" he added.
So his ever observant lieutenant did see the empty bottles in the back of his truck or maybe he just smelled the reek of booze coming from his Captain.
"Right, Lieutenant, would probably be wiser if I don´t drive. Don´t want anyone to get hurt. Again...hah. Just, try not to get any scratches into my baby." he forced himself to if any more bumps would matter, regarding the state his car was already in!
However, Piers just smiled contently.
"Don´t worry Captain, I´m the best driver in the BSAA."
"Sure, Nivans, is there anything you are not best in?"
"Oh, I would probably make a pretty lousy captain, Captain."
"We´ll wait and see." Chris mumbled.
On their way back, they chatted. Talked about how Alpha team was growing together as an actual team. What assault rifle was the best at distances. Things like that.
Chris started an attempt to light another cigarette, but stopped himself when catching a glimpse at the face his Ace pulled.
Instead, he threw the cigarette out of the window. Chris made a few comments on Piers driving skills and they even talked about Claire for a while.
When they arrived back at the Barracks, it was close to midnight.
Piers got out of the car after forcing Chris to promise he´d leave the car and walk home the rest of the way.
Before leaving for the Barracks, Piers leant into the open window of Chris truck „Don´t worry Captain, I won´t tell anyone."
"Tell anyone what?" Chris asked, a little nervous.
"That you tried to run me over, of course"