Chapter 9

XX

In spite of the cold coming up from the Hudson this morning, Alex St. Esprit was in his RMA summer PT uniform at 0515, ready and waiting as his father came down the front steps of the Superintendent's house, wearing the standard Army summer PT uniform. The seventeen-year-old snapped to attention and saluted flawlessly.

"Good morning, sir!"

"Alex," the three-star general and war hero said, saluting with flawless, practiced ease. "Good morning. As you were."

"Yes, sir." Alex dropped the salute and barely relaxed his posture at all. "Ready to run if you are, sir."

Alex R. St. Esprit, III performed a head-to-toe inspection of his son. "It's not too much longer until you take the oath out there on the Plain."

"I'm ready for it, sir."

"Make sure you stay in control. No slip-ups, no failures. The Remington Corps of Cadets is depending on you to make the right decisions."

"Yes, sir."

"And out here," the General said, "look at all this." He waved his hand, encompassing everything immediately in view in front of the house, from Cullum Hall on the far right, to Eisenhower Hall on the far left. From where the house stood, it was all across the Plain, all stretching out into the distance and giving just the smallest sense of just how big the 16,000-acre post was. "Someday you'll be commanding a Corps of Cadets that numbers over 4,000. More than ten times your current command."

"Yes, sir."

"Make sure you're ready for that kind of responsibility," he said. "And always remember that after that, you'll first command a platoon, then a company. Eventually tens of thousands of men will follow your orders. Things will happen unexpectedly. Things will go wrong. Always be ready for whatever life and the Army throw at you."

"I will, sir."

"Let's go," General St. Esprit said. He abruptly broke into a run, heading out and turning right onto Washington Road, which curved around Daly, Clinton, and Doubleday fields and past the St. Esprit monument. At a brisk 5:30 1-mile pace the General ran onward down what became Thayer Road, passing towering Gothic structures like Thayer Hall on the left and Bartlett Hall on the right. Alex kept up with the pace his father set, knowing he had to be prepared to match it for as long as the man cared to run. Sometimes their morning runs lasted quite a while.

This time, they went all the way out to the Military Police Station and the Thayer Gate, circling the Buffalo Soldier Field. Uphill, downhill, level ground- it didn't matter. Alex maintained the pace his father was setting. Everyone on this post knew who he was, knew who his father was. Even at early hours like this, people were up and around. To fail or falter was to let down the men who had worn his name in the past, and that was unacceptable.

On and on the run went, taking Alex on a lengthy tour of the high, bluff, and thickly-wooded territory of West Point. Eventually, Dad headed for the lighthouse downhill from the St. Esprit monument. At the rocky, difficult terrain of Gee's Point, overlooking the Hudson River, General St. Esprit finally came to a halt. The sun was just beginning to come up.

"You know why your friends call you Alexander the Great, don't you?"

Alex felt his cheeks heating up in spite of the cold. "Sir?"

"They believe you have a destiny, like that famous Alexander had before him."

"Yes, sir."

"You have a destiny, Alex. Remington and West Point are just the beginnings of it. It's peacetime for now, but war will return one of these days, and you'll have the honor and privilege of testing yourself in it. This is what we do, Alex, since our ancestors stood guard as warriors of the Papal States and fought for the kings of France. Your purpose is to be a soldier. Your destiny is to become a great one." St. Esprit paused, looking closely at his son. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Fools like Anthony DiNozzo will always exist in the world, Alex. You can never be rid of them, so they have to be controlled."

"We're already doing that, sir."

"Like you did during my visit."

Alex's face flushed with embarrassment. "Sir, Christian Marshall has personally taken charge of dealing with DiNozzo. He invited him to visit at Camp Lejeune and is convincing him they are friends. It's all part of a plan the ten of us have to control DiNozzo, at least. Chris thinks we can make him shape up."

"Does he actually believe this boy can be redeemed? That Remington can make a man out of him in this short time?"

"Sir, Remington makes men," Alex replied. "If anyone in the world can do it, we can. DiNozzo is a promising basketball player and he will not be allowed to threaten the Corps no matter what he does. We are already getting him under control. Pretty soon Chris will know everything about him, and that'll make his behavior easy to predict. He'll do what Chris says, and Chris will do what I say. Marshall says we can use him to help bring home another winning season for basketball, and this thing DiNozzo thinks he's doing, trying to oppose us… by infiltrating it we're gonna make sure it never gets anywhere."

"You're playing a dangerous game by letting this go on, Alex. But you come from a line of great strategists and soldiers. You were selected as Commandant because you are a natural leader among your peers. You display all of the virtues upheld by Remington, and by West Point. You would have to make a lot of mistakes for this idiot to get the better of you."

"No, sir. Besides, sir, Golan hates him worse than anything. I think this year's just gonna be a matter of keeping Golan on his chain."

"A man much like DiNozzo died stupidly and took several good men with him," St. Esprit remarked. "Mark's pain is driving him to put all of the Anthony DiNozzos in this world in their place. He'll get there, Alex, as high as he wants to rise and as far as he wants to go. But never weaken. Never let yourself pity fools like DiNozzo. Golan won't. You can't."

"I can't help but pity him, sir," Alex said. "He thinks he can challenge the Corps."

General St. Esprit smiled. "Good. But remember what I said. Now, I can't see you back to Remington but I'll have Sergeant Lewis drive us to the airport. Your mother will come along to see you off."

"Going to Washington to tell those old bums how it's time for us to adopt the next generation of airborne troops, Dad?" Alex asked with a smile.

"The badge design I submitted in 1983 is long overdue for official status," General St. Esprit replied. "We've had high-altitude jumps and tests on and off since 1960. It's about time we made it all official and took airborne troops to the next level."

"You think all paratroopers are gonna operate like that someday, sir?"

"Maybe. But first I have to get Congress off its ass so high-altitude parachuting can get the status and recognition it deserves."

"Get Congress off its ass?" Alex laughed. "Good luck, Dad."

"Let's make that run back to the house and make breakfast for your mother."

"Yes, sir."

The General turned, then halted for a moment. "You have a destiny, Alex. Never forget that."

"No, sir, I won't."

"Say it, then. Remind yourself of who you are."

"I have a destiny."

"Again."

"I have a destiny, sir," Alex answered. He knew the phrase well. His mission in life had been drilled into him for as far back as he could remember. The Army was all he knew. Alex had no regrets over that. He just didn't know if he'd ever live up to his father's fame.

XX

Thomas Marshall saw Josh, Chris and Tony to the airport for the flight back to Rhode Island, and Tony continued to be intrigued by the gruff way that the Sergeant Major interacted with his adopted sons. Josh and Chris would openly show and express affection, and the Sergeant Major would tell them things like "Take it easy or people are gonna think I'm spoken for." He would say things that sounded harsh or even hurtful and his sons would laugh or even be visibly moved.

A rather odd bunch, but it was obvious that they all cared about each other. The Sergeant Major was also actually paying attention to his sons… as opposed to Dad, who was out there somewhere, doing whatever it was he liked to do. Pretending to be a big deal and running scams on people, probably. D'Arbanville was an arrogant prick, but his jab about Dad being a con artist… that had sunk deep.

I hate that guy, Tony thought, sitting on the plane besides Chris. But dude… what if he knows something? I don't know anything about the Old Families but it sounds like they know people and they buy a lot of art. Did Dad really try selling a fake to the D'Arbanville family? Did he know it was a fake? Maybe that's why he ignores me so much. He doesn't want me to see anything. He knows I'm smart enough that I'd figure out what he really does for a living if I was around more often.

Chris elbowed him. "Hey. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Tony said. "Why do you ask?"

"The plane feels heavy. Something's weighing it down and it's not me. The seat next to me, though…"

Tony laughed. "Okay, what do you care?"

"I care plenty," Chris replied. "I'm the Brigade Sergeant Major in the RMA Corps of Cadets. My job is to care."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Want me to slap you with some tours as an early Christmas present?"

"I'm good. I feel like guys like Golan are gonna have plenty of tours for me. He hates me. And he's gonna have Honor Corps after me no matter what you do, or I do." Tony's voice betrayed his worry, and he couldn't seem to help it. "I don't see how I can make it at that school. I gotta graduate somewhere but Honor Corps isn't just gonna- they don't care. I know they don't want me to make it."

"You heard Coach Tanner, right? Things are gonna change and Honor Corps is one of them. I'm gonna get the boys together. We're gonna unite the basketball team first off. My boys are off limits, and that includes you."

"They run the Corps of Cadets. We don't have the connections they do."

Chris shrugged. "It's not the end of the world. I still got a few tricks up my sleeve." He paused, glanced at Tony. "You believe that, don't you?"

"I'm still trying to figure you out," Tony admitted. "You're a fun guy but you act kinda crazy sometimes."

The redhead sighed. "Alright, I-I just really wanted to impress you. Okay? I really want people to like me and that was the best I could think of. I probably overdid it."

"You're fucking right you overdid it."

"Yeah, well, at least I helped you get laid."

"I can do it on my own."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Well, good, I'm glad you can perform without assistance from me, dude."

Tony laughed. "God! You know that is not what I mean!"

"I know no such thing."

"Look, so- I like you, okay? And, I trust you and stuff. So, no need to go acting crazy anymore, trying to impress me."

"Oh, I impressed you. You're in great shape, Tony, but you can't bench-press what I can."

"Jeez, how did you get in such good shape?"

"Marine brat, remember? All I do is live the way a Marine does. I'm going to join my brother in the Corps someday, and when I do, he'll understand I have it- I have it together. Yeah. He'll see it, then."

"What do you mean? Doesn't he think you have it together now?"

"Well, he'd say I drive too fast and stick my thing in too many girls for my own good."

"Oh, well, he's right about that."

"Jeez!" Chris exclaimed. "I gotta listen to this from you, too?"

"What do you think's gonna happen when we go back to RMA? Trying to take on Honor Corps and everything?"

Chris sighed. "Well, we're gonna make some enemies, obviously. And Coach Tanner is, too. I guess he understands that and he's ready for it. I hope so, because HC has influence and power like nobody's business. They've had it their way at Remington for a long time."

"You're not afraid of them, are you?"

The redhead shrugged. "I'm just saying this thing's not gonna be easy. This is a bunch of guys where either they're interested in you for really good or really bad reasons. They don't care who you are, Tony. They only care about keeping control over the school. But I said I'd stand with you, didn't I? I'm gonna be there. No matter how this plays out, I'm sticking with you."

Tony felt a rush of gratitude toward the red-haired teen, but kept his voice light as he replied, "And why would you do all that? Because you got to see what a model I am at 17?"

Chris laughed. "I like you, Tony. Once you figure out what you wanna be, you're gonna go far. Just remember me when you get there."

"Why can't you be there to see it yourself?" Tony replied, elbowing his friend.

"Maybe I will be, Tony. But the good die young."

"Oh, then you're fine," Tony said with a wry grin. "Because you're no fucking good at all."

"Jeez! You and all my ex-girlfriends're all on the same page, at least!"

XX

Mark was sitting on the wing of the Zero when Charlie Golan first got out to his hangar. By the look on his face, he was deep in thought again. He did that a lot when he was home, whenever he wasn't surrounded by his friends from school. Always on the serious side, always short-tempered and ready to wade in with both fists for whatever he thought was right, Mark had never been the same since he'd lost his father. It was a void that would probably just never be filled.

"You're up early," Charlie said in greeting.

"Hey, Grampa," Mark answered.

"Something on your mind?"

"Dad never got to see me fly," Mark said suddenly. "I could fly thousands of planes but he'll never see me do it. I can't tell him how it feels."

"What happened to your dad was not your fault," Charlie Golan told his grandson.

"I know whose it is," Mark said. "And I go to school with a guy exactly like him right now. Same attitude, same way of doing things. He's wrong and I'm gonna show him he's wrong."

"You told me you want to get some stars like your Dad was gonna get," Charlie said carefully. "Go for 'em. But keep your eyes on that."

Mark suddenly curled his right hand into a fist, slamming it on the Zero's wing. "That's not enough!"

"It's enough if you say it's enough!" Charlie answered.

"His name's Tony DiNozzo, Granddad," Mark said. "And I'm gonna set him straight or ship him out. Whatever it takes. They're all the same, those type of guys. They all think they're God."

"Mark, you can't go running down everyone who isn't living the way you think they should. Even if you're right, there's one of you. A man could spend a lifetime trying to set all the bums and jerks in this world straight and still not make a dent."

"I have to try, Granddad. I have to do what I can. Just something I gotta do."

"For Dad?"

"Yes."

"Use your rank at school to do what the regulations specify, not what you personally think. Remember no military can operate based on personal preference. Just do that and act right yourself. Do the best you can with what you have."

"Like I'd do anything else," Mark grouched.

"Mark," Charlie said, a warning in his voice.

"Yes, sir," Mark said, settling down.

Grandfather let grandson be alone with his thoughts for a few moments, then said, "Listen. I know you might not be in the mood for it, but a bunch of the local kids wanted to see one of Golan's airshows today."

Mark perked up. "Really?"

"The Banshee and the Zero. Plan was to take 'em out, give some of the kids a ride in the one that's got two seats."

"All right!" Mark exclaimed, already on his feet. "Come on, Granddad! Let's push her out and let's go!"

"You know we still have to get you on that flight back to Rhode Island."

"I already packed! Mom knows I'm here, we have time! Come on, come on! Let's get these birds ready! Let's go!"

The instant the thought of flight entered Mark's head, his spirits not only lifted, but soared. All too given to being quick-tempered and solemn on the ground, Mark was carefree and wildly enthusiastic in the air. He loved to fly, plain and simple. Nothing else made him so happy. It was a shame you couldn't talk to him easily about other things.

XX

Thanks to some lousy winter weather, the layover in Dulles International Airport wound up being much longer than expected. As the snow fell outside, Tony and Chris passed the time by chatting up some pretty flight attendants and a few good-looking girls around high school age. Josh looked on with amusement but didn't join in, and reminded the two teens that he was engaged when Tony jokingly tried to talk him into it.

"I already had my fun, guys," he said. "Couple more months, and I'm a married man."

"Oh, no more fun after that, huh?" Tony joked, grinning at Josh.

"Fuck off, Tony," Josh laughed. He shook his head. "You got a smart mouth, DiNozzo. I can see how you keep getting in trouble at my school."

"Why do you like that place so much?" Tony asked, suddenly curious.

"Why do you hate it so much?"

"I just don't like it. I'm not a big regulations guy. At all, man. Seriously."

Josh scoffed. "What, you think just because I've been wearing a uniform since '74 I like every rule in the book? I bucked the system, played pranks, got in trouble at Remington and at El Cid. I knew when it was time to watch, when it was time to build, when it was time to act. And one more thing you better learn- I knew when it was time to fuck around and when it was time to be serious."

"Thanks, Dad," Tony said, grinning again.

"He's gonna make a great poppa once him and Elizabeth hop in the sack," Chris said.

"Hey, Chris, you're my brother and I love you, but that applies to you, too. You're a great brigade sergeant major over at RMA, but you're playing with fire when you treat life like it's a big game and fuck everything that moves."

"Aw, man," Chris groaned. "Josh, c'mon, I was just having fun. Why you gotta be so serious all the time?"

"Chris, you're treating sex way too casually. And I already know Tony is, too."

"Gosh, Josh, weren't you our age once?"

Josh shrugged. "I never actually got to be a kid. Kinda had to skip it. Sorry. I know I can be too serious sometimes."

"Jeez," Tony said, "sometimes?"

"How about I go find a hotel room in case we need one, and you two take your faces somewhere so I don't gotta look at 'em?"

"Well, if you take yours somewhere, strictly speaking, we don't have to go anywhere. And you gotta go somewhere in order to-"

"Oh, fuck me in the face," Josh burst out. "You guys here and watch the fucking bags or something, I'm gonna call a guy I know and see if I can get us a room. We might need one if the snow doesn't let up."

"Maybe we'll need some extra space, if me and Tony make some 'friends'," Chris said, winking at Tony.

"Just don't get somebody pregnant again."

As Josh left, Tony stared after him for a few moments. Then he looked at Chris, suddenly curious. "Wait, did you actually-?"

"No!" Chris exclaimed, his face reddening. "No, man. Um, he just thinks I did because, you know, I fuck a lotta girls."

"What the hell does 'Fuck me in the face' mean, though?"

"It means, uh, he's really frustrated or something. I think that's what it means, you know, whenever he says that." Chris grinned suddenly. "Hey, I got an idea for some fun. You goin' with me?"

"Sure."

"All right. The bags can guard themselves. Let's go."

XX

Chris' idea was to go and find these two pretty girls he and Tony had been talking to earlier. Things went fairly well, but Chris suddenly became annoyed when he offered to buy them something to eat and drink while the four talked, and discovered the airport coffee shop was closed.

"Hey, girls, just- uh, wait here for us, okay?" Chris said. "Me and Tony're gonna figure something out."

"Sure."

"All right."

As soon as they were out of earshot, Tony said, "So what're we gonna do now? We can't get 'em anything."

"The hell we can't," Chris said. "I want some fucking coffee. And we're gonna show those girls we can get results. There's a maintenance passageway that lets you into the back of the shops. Employees use it, I think."

"So? The place is still gonna be closed."

"Josh taught me all kinds of stuff back when- back before we- you know, had a home. I can get us in there. C'mon. We'll impress the girls and talk Josh into buying us a room each so we can have some privacy."

"Yeah, seeing you naked kinda scarred me for life."

"Oh, please. It changed your life is what it did."

"Scarring me for life is changing my life."

"Jeez. C'mon," Chris said, tugging at Tony's arm. "Let's go, man. Coffee and pussy. Let's get one so we can get the other. We're snowed in, let's live a little!"

Tony hesitated. This was not really what he'd expected he'd be doing. "Well-"

"Oh, where's that fuckin' rebel Golan hates so much, huh? Where's he at right now?"

"Right here," Tony said, feeling defensive. "He's right here, dude."

Chris grinned. "Then fucking show me."

XX

It took Chris only a few seconds to pick the lock to the passageway. Creeping down it, listening to the hiss of the heating pipes and the slow drip of water from somewhere, Tony wished the whole thing wasn't lined with tiles. That drip could have been coming from clear on the other end of this corridor.

By the dim lights that remained on even when the passageway was dark, Chris found the coffee shop and carefully picked that lock, too. He swung the door open and grinned at Tony. "See? Now, all we need to do is-"

"Hands up!" someone said from behind them. "Stand up!"

Jesus! Tony's heart leaped into his chest. He and Chris threw their hands up.

"Don't kill me, I'm too young to die," Tony managed to say.

"Shut it!" the security officer, or whoever it was, ordered harshly. "Turn and face the wall."

Instead of complying, Chris turned around. "Hey, you're not too bad-looking, ma'am. Can't we just talk this out?"

"Turn around! Now!"

Tony made a nervous glance to his left and could make out a uniformed officer holding out a handgun. Shit.

"But I can explain," Chris said. "I can tell you everything about-"

Suddenly, Chris leaped forward, shoving the police officer with both hands. She cried out, stumbled, fell. The pistol clattered on the tiles and Chris kicked it away, then bolted back the way he and Tony had come.

"Run for it, Tony!" Chris yelled.

Tony sprinted after the redhead, wondering how the hell flirting with a few girls had come to this. He could hear the officer shouting into her radio, calling for backup. There was no way this was ending anytime soon, even if the teens got away here, but Tony kept running. What else was there to do?

Chris barely slowed down in time for the entrance door. He turned to hold it open for Tony when he jerked suddenly as a baton hit him. He cried out, staggered, and hit the floor. Tony had been so hot on the redhead's heels, so set on getting away from the first officer, that he ran right into Chris and sprawled next to him on the floor.

"Okay," one of the four officers standing around them said. "You guys are gonna stand up, slow. Turn around and- hey!"

Chris stood up and tried to run, only to get whacked by a baton again. He shrugged it off, tried to dodge an officer who got in his way, and ran straight into the female officer, who shot him in the face with pepper spray.

"OH, GOD!" Chris screamed. "Fucking shit! Fucking shit!" He shouted a lot more, but that was the only coherent thing he said. Tony saw with sudden horror that Josh had arrived, too. Chris' big brother was looking at the scene in shock, just standing there with eyes as big as dinner plates.

Chris, incredibly, still had more left in him. He noticed, or seemed to notice Josh, and turned towards him.

"He's still moving!" one of the officers cried.

"Stop him!"

"JOSH!" Chris wailed. He yelled a lot of gibberish, shrugged off two officers as they both tried to grab him, then went down for good as they tackled him and wrestled him to the floor.

Oh, Jesus! I gottagetthefuckouttahereIgottagetthefuckouttahere, JesusrunrunrunrunRUN!

Motivated by something very much like primal terror, Tony chose that moment to jump up and make his own desperate bid for freedom. They were waiting for that, though. Convinced by now that they had some kind of teenage commandos trying to bring down the airport, the officers had called for even more help. No fewer than three cops rushed in and tackled Tony, pinning him to the floor. One of them raised his baton high, so that for a moment Tony looked up and saw it obstruct the glare of the overhead lights.

Then the baton crashed down and Tony DiNozzo Jr. was out for the rest of the night.

XX

At seventeen years old, Tony was used to thinking he was invincible. When he opened his eyes and tried to move, though, he instantly regretted it. For one thing, he hurt like hell. How hard had that cop hit him with that frigging baton? As he regained consciousness, Tony realized sound was assaulting him, too. Josh and Chris were screaming at each other.

"I've had it!" Josh shouted. "Look at yourself! How is it that you fuck everything up?!"

"Oh, it's the same thing every time I make a mistake, isn't it? I get the same thing every time!"

"You think I've been rough with you? If I'd landed on you with both feet every time, you'd know the difference!"

"I'd sure like to find out!"

"I've always stayed out of your business, haven't I? I've let you live like you want to, because I never got to be a kid! I figured one of us should get to, and besides, I told myself you'd grow up one day, Chris, you'd mature a bit!"

"What? What, do I have to be you now?"

"You listen to me," Josh said. "You keep fucking up because Dad and I are always there to catch you when you fall, you're seventeen and you think you're invincible. Now you've got that kid DiNozzo involved. You're fucking up his life and you're fucking up yours! And by the way, wanna know about the girls you were trying to impress last night? One of 'em, her dad, you know where he works? On the staff of General Owens! The Commandant of the U.S. Marines! He just called and told me we're gonna meet soon! So now, you're messing with my job! MY LIFE!"

"I'm not trying to! I'd never-"

"It doesn't matter if you're not trying to! If something gets done by accident, it's still done!"

Tony managed to get up then, and realized as he looked around that he'd been left in the bathroom of what had to be a hotel room. He found his way to the door, opened it, and instantly regretted that as sunlight hit him full force. Instinctively raising an arm, Tony groaned and shut his eyes.

The sound made both Marshalls turn their heads towards him. Chris' eyes were red. Josh stared at Tony, then at Chris, who suddenly didn't want to look at either of them.

"Sorry," Tony said. "About yesterday."

"Me, too," Chris said, although he wouldn't look up from the floor. He sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands.

Josh looked at each of them for a few moments. "You have every reason to be. I made some calls. Lucky for you guys, I convinced Dulles security to let this go. They really didn't want to. But as stupid as both of you were, you're not getting anything on your record." He shook his head. "I don't know why I bother."

"You said you'd always look out for me," Chris said. "You promised."

"I did, and I will. But is enabling bad behavior my job? You know that it's not. One day I won't be able to stop consequences from getting to you. Reckless behavior has a price and sooner or later you'll pay it. Both of you will if you don't make better choices."

"I'm not gonna spend half my life in jail," Chris grumbled.

"You will if you keep this up!" Josh told him.

"Josh, maybe- I don't think that you should-" Tony said hesitantly, but Josh sharply cut him off.

"Don't you ever tell me what I should or shouldn't do, Tony. Nothing gives you the right. I didn't come all this way just to watch Chris fuck it all up trying to impress girls, or you."

"Who says he was trying to impress me?"

Josh sighed in exasperation. "It's obvious to anyone with eyes, Tony. What you think matters to Chris. He likes you a hell of a lot. He's always been great with people but even for him this is new."

"I see something in him," Chris muttered. "That's all."

"So do I," Josh answered. "But breaking the law like you both did is a pointless waste. You will both write letters of apology to the Dulles airport police officers, individually, and to me, when you get back to Remington. You will both use your brains instead of your teenage egos. You will thank God, every day, that He guided my hand towards mercy and not punishment. I could have let the police have you, and Tony, you know what Remington would have done once they knew about that."

"Yeah," Tony said. "I know."

"Do the both of you understand that you fucked up good?"

"Yes."

"Yes, Josh."

"Will you both do everything that I said you will?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Good." Josh sighed. "You're both full of potential. You're both brilliant students and gifted athletes. Nobody cares about your success more than me. But don't either of you ever embarrass me like this again."

Tony started to say something, but just then there was a knock at the door. Tony glanced towards it. Chris just stared at the floor. Josh headed over and answered it.

"Yes?" he said, and Tony got a glimpse of two men in identical black suits, men who, Tony was suddenly quite sure, had concealed handguns under those hand-tailored jackets.

"Captain Joshua Marshall?" one of them said.

"Yes, that's me."

"We'd like to speak with you."

Josh looked back into the hotel room. "You two stay put." Then he went into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

Tony turned to Chris, unsure of what was happening now, or about to happen. "What do you think that's about? What's going on?"

"Who knows?"

"I hope it- I hope this doesn't, you know, mess things up for your family."

Chris laughed, and he actually looked up at Tony and smiled. "Josh has survived more than either of us will ever know. He'll protect me. And you. He likes you more than he'll ever admit."

"Well, what if what we did really causes trouble for… his career and stuff? He said he got a call from that general and everything."

"Tony, let me tell you something Josh once told me: 'Life is hard, but the Marshalls endure. We always have. And we always will."

"What does that mean for me, though?"

"Don't you get it? From now until graduation, whatever it takes to get there, you're a Marshall. No matter how cold the winter gets, you'll survive. I guarantee it."

"Thanks, Chris."

"Don't thank me. Thank my brother. He's stronger, braver, better. Me, I just fuck girls and lift weights and try like hell to be whatever, I dunno, whatever I think people want me to be." He laughed. "I just keep putting on faces, acting, I guess. I haven't known who I am for years."

"You're my friend, the basketball captain, a great gym buddy. That's who you are."

Chris laughed. "You're still trying to make me like you, huh?"

"Come closer so I can kick you. Right between the legs."

Chris quickly put both hands over himself as Tony moved towards him. "No, no, man, I need those for later! How many girls are gonna go without if they haven't got me?"

"I'll take good care of 'em, man, don't worry about it!"

Somehow, the two boys found it in themselves to start a playful scuffle. They were in the middle of it when someone knocked on the door again. Chris and Tony quickly composed themselves and stood up straight as Josh re-entered the room in full dress blues. He looked at them and said tersely,

"Guys. Grab everything, do it now. We're going to the White House."

"What? Why?" Chris asked. "What's happened?"

"Those are Secret Service men outside. We're going right now. That's all. You have sixty seconds."

Without one second's hesitation, the two teens sprang into action. They grabbed anything they knew belonged to either one of them, threw it in any available bag, and were out in the hallway exactly fifty-five seconds later. Josh nodded to one of the men in black, who nodded in return.

"Follow us," one of the two men said. With no knowledge of just what he- and the Marshalls- had gotten into, Tony followed the Secret Service men down the hallway of the hotel, down some stairs, and into the black Cadillac that was waiting outside, discreetly parked on a side street.

The men in black neatly stowed all three of the young men's luggage, ushered them into the car, and joined them in the back while a third man in a dark suit started the engine and turned onto a crowded street, heading for Pennsylvania Avenue. Josh and Chris both looked equally nervous, equally tense, and Tony knew he had to look much like they did. They looked at each other but didn't say anything. No one did. Not a word.

A/N: 7-16-2019.

XX

And so, at 5,960 words, Chapter 9 is done at last! It was a long wait and I do apologize. Free time has been harder to come by than I expected, but inspiration has not. I have a great many ideas for this story and look forward to using them. Readers, whoever you are, feel free to offer comments or suggestions. The more feedback I can get about my work, the better I can do it.

Josh and Chris are extremely close. The bond between them is unbreakable. But Chris is more troubled than he wants anybody to know, and this manifests itself in sometimes-erratic, reckless, and even dangerous behavior. He has also committed himself to a mission on behalf of his brothers in Honor Corps, but he must also play the part of heroic co-conspirator against that very brotherhood when talking to Coach Gerald Tanner or Anthony DiNozzo, Jr.

Tasers were not invented and brought into service until well after 1986-1987, so any police force in the US would have had pepper spray/mace and nightsticks as their main non-lethal options.

It is not actually possible to knock someone out for more than a few minutes without causing brain damage, but many authors either unknowingly make that mistake or deliberately do for the sake of convenience. I fall into the latter category.

Thank jenny wrens if you like this chapter; it was her steady writing despite the many, many things she has demanding her time that inspired me to get back to it again with my own work.

Got the basic idea for the whole breaking-into-the-coffee-shop thing from the 2012 movie Battleship. Not a good movie, but the chicken burrito scene was fun. As was the scene after that.

Reviews are always welcome. Be as detailed as you like. If there are proofreading issues or if there is editing that I need to do, that might be better relayed over a PM. But, in the end, you are the reader and can do what you prefer.