(Author's note- thanks again for feedback! Sorry I'm slow to update, but I do promise to finish this sucker! And someone recognized the biblical reference- and didn't get pissed. LOL- yea!)
Chapter 5"Damn good day for a barbeque, Bobby! Springtime in D.C. is not always so kind." Stepping through the French doors, Frank grabbed a Becks from the cooler and popped the top.
"You're early. Big surprise," Robert replied as he stared intently at the gray slate roof of his house. "Where's Li?"
"In the kitchen with Susan, probably mixing up some horrid fruit punch." Flopping down on the warm flagstones surrounding the pool, Frank followed his boss' fixed gaze. A dark silhouette crouched motionless atop the apex of the roof. "What's your pet psychopath doing now?"
"He's going to put in a new security system," Robert replied with a shrug.
"Good! I've been after you for years to do that. How come you listen to him and not to me?" Lying back on his towel, Frank feigned an offended pout.
"He never really asked. Just showed up and started explaining the system specs. I figured it was easier not to argue with him. Of course, I've been watching him for almost an hour, and all he's done is hunker down on top of my roof. He this productive at work, Frank? He's been there a week, and every time I walk out the door, he's leaving the building. What kind of lame schedule do you have him working, anyway?"
Frank waived a negligent hand. "Lay off, Bobby. Ian's busting his ass. Shows up before I do and half the time I think he stays at his desk all night. He ain't getting off work whenever you leave, he's following you. Thought you'd have picked up on it by now!"
"He's what?!" Robert sat up, a glare on his face.
"Oh, yea. He trails you from your house to the office, every morning and every night. You don't leave the building without a tail."
"You SOB," Robert muttered, shaking his head. "I can't believe you ordered him to follow me around!"
"Don't look at me!" Opening watery blue eyes, Frank was the picture of wounded innocence. "I don't give Ian orders anymore. Not since the little incident at the firing range."
Chugging down the last of his beer, Robert ground his teeth together and muttered, "Do I want to know what happened at the firing range?"
"Oh yea, this was a classic!" Frank replied, grinning broadly as he propped himself up on his elbows. "You know the kid carries a pair of Glocks, right? So I told him he had to qualify at the range or I wasn't going to let him in the building with a loaded weapon. Wednesday morning, he shows up at the range, pulls out two modified Mac-10's and starts blasting away at the targets. Full auto, Bobby. There was more confetti in the air than there is at a Thanksgiving Day parade. I damn near wet myself."
"Joyous. My stalker is well armed."
Frank chuckled. "Sneaky, too. Guess how he always knows when you leave?"
"No clue, though the smart money says it involves lurking."
"Nope. He's a flirt. He actually convinced Mrs. Hansbulger to page him whenever you go out. The guy knows your schedule before you do."
"Impossible," Robert said, his gaze drifting back to the shadowy figure on his rooftop. "Ingrid won't even tell my wife where I am without checking with me first."
"Bet your barracuda of a secretary doesn't bake Susan pies, either."
"She baked him a pie? Mrs. Hansbulger baked Ian a pie?"
"Mm hm." Frank nodded happily. "We've been getting lots of baked goods sent down to security lately. Pies, cookies, cakes. I think every woman in the building has brought in some shining example of her domestic prowess. And by the way, you were right about Jim Avery. Guy's as gay as track lighting."
Robert took his eyes off of Ian long enough to smirk. "Dare I ask how you come by this oh so intimate knowledge of Jim's sexual preference?"
"He sent down muffins. Blueberry muffins. Very tasty."
"Well as long as your pastry needs are being met, guess I'll stop worrying," Robert replied, once more looking up at the object of their conversation.
"Jeesh, Bobby! What's got a bee up your butt? The kid's doing okay. Hell, he's doing things I should have done years ago. You need the beefed up security. You're a 50 year old man who has more money than God and a beautiful wife and two young kids to protect. You should have a driver. You should have a decent security system. I'm glad Ian's here. Why aren't you?"
Robert slipped from the chair and went to grab another beer. Keeping his back to Frank, he stared up into the clear blue skies for a moment and allowed himself a deep sigh. "I'm glad he's here too. He just... he makes me uneasy. Somebody kept him on a very short leash for a very long time. I keep wondering why."
"Maybe you're wondering if that somebody is going to want him back."
Taking a long swallow of beer, Robert nodded. "Maybe."
"You worry too much, Bobby." Cupping his hands around his mouth, Frank bellowed toward the roof using his best drill instructor voice. "Yo, Ian! Get your ass down here. It's time to party!"
Smoothly, Ian stood. A dark shadow backlit by the sun, he looked down on the two men beside the pool. It was only when Robert nodded to him that he began to lope across the pitched roof.
"Guy's gonna break his fuck'n neck," Frank muttered.
"Frank, can you please keep the cursing to a minimum for once? There are going to be kids all over the place... Shit! God damn it, Ian!"
Robert was out of his chair in an instance, but it was too late to make any difference. Ian hit the edge of the roof and launched himself into space. His arms spread for balance, he dropped like a rock toward the hard ground three-and-a-half stories below. Knees flexing slightly as he landed, Ian glanced over with an inquisitive look and started jogging toward them.
"Jesus," Frank hissed, falling quickly in behind Robert as the man stormed over to meet Ian.
"What the fuck were you thinking?!" Rounding on Ian, Robert grabbed him by the front of his shirt. Ian immediately dropped his head and locked his arms behind his back, frozen in place.
"Bobby..."
"Shut up, Frank." With his free hand, Robert grabbed Ian's jaw, forcing the taller man's head up. "Damn it, Ian. Are you crazy or merely suicidal?"
Confused hazel eyes met his, but Ian didn't answer. Taking a deep breath, Robert slowly released the now wrinkled shirt. "No more jumping off of buildings, Ian. You got that?"
"Yes sir," was the soft reply.
"Kid, you are going to be the death of me," Robert said, giving Ian's head a hard shake before letting him go. "Get your ass into the pool-house and find a swimsuit. I want you to spend the rest of the day lounging in the sun, drinking beer, and flirting with pretty girls. No drawn weapons, no freefalls, and no fucking black turtlenecks and leather gloves in 75 degree weather. That's an order, Ian."
Nodding once, Ian spun on his heel. The two men watched him go. "Damn, maybe the kid needs to be leashed, Bobby. And what the hell is up with that weird-assed head thing he does around you?"
Groaning, Robert rolled his eyes. "The way he's always looking at the ground? Doesn't he do it around you?"
Frank snorted, half-choking on his beer. "Fuck no. The guy normally stalks through the office like he's the alpha wolf and the rest of us are a bunch of bitches in heat. I keep waiting for him to piss in the corners, start marking his territory. Hell, half the guys in the building snap to attention when he walks in the door, and every one of the snot-nosed mother-fuckers calls him 'sir'."
Robert shot him a hard look. "Frank, they don't even call me 'sir'!"
"Yea, well you're not a big, scary, freak, now are you?"
"Um, no. I suppose not."
"So... What's up with the weird-assed head thing?"
"Hell if I know. I thought he was shy."
This time when Frank laughed, Robert had to duck the spray of beer from his nose.
*****************
"I hope you boys have been behaving yourselves," Susan called cheerily as she walked outside, her hands laden with chips and salsa. Mai Li was a step behind her bearing glass pitchers, one filled with pink punch, the other with smurf-blue.
"Uncle Frank! When are you gonna take me on your Harley again?" Bobby and Jenny sprinted by their mom's legs, the dogs trailing after them with lolling tongues.
"According to your father, not until you're 18," Frank said, giving the boy a loose hug as he plopped down on the towel next to him.
"Dad!" Bobby shot his father a venomous look.
"We'll see," Robert placated, pulling Jenny up to sit in his lap and shooing the dogs away from his open beer.
"Well can I at least show Ian my katana? I bet he knows how to use it?"
"Where is Ian?" Susan asked over Frank's rumbling laughter. "You don't still have him working, Robert? It's Sunday!"
"Hey, that was his idea, not mine. He's in the pool-house changing. And no swords today, Bobby. I think I've had all the ninja sh...." Robert caught a glare from his wife and rephrased. "I've had all of the ninja stuff I can handle today."
"Oh, come on, Bobby. This, I want to see," Frank said.
"Me too," Frank's wife chimed in, her almond-shaped eyes twinkling impishly as she took a chair opposite Susan and poured herself a drink. "I want to see what all of the fuss is about."
"Fine. You can ask him for a demo, but be careful..."
Robert's words were lost as Bobby tore off in the direction of the pool-house, dodging around a group of young men and women as they strolled out onto the patio.
"Hey boss! The door was open so we let ourselves in. We brought Coronas!"
"Oh look, dear. Your Neanderthals have arrived."
Ignoring his wife, Robert waved the group over. "Good man, Jesse. Throw 'em in the cooler."
Aside from the proliferation of crew cuts and military tattoos, the men who roughhoused their way toward him looked no different than any other gathering of 30-something yuppies. Robert knew better. They were some of the best the U.S. military had to offer, and now they worked for him. With an unaccustomed flush of pride, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, feeling like the king of the world.
"Bloody hell, he's carrying a Glock under his swimsuit! See the bulge?"
Frank's voice, not for the first time, jarred him from his pleasant thoughts. Cracking his eyes open, he saw Ian standing beside the pool, Bobby tugging on his arm.
"Oh yes, I see the bulge," Susan replied, amused appreciation in her tone.
"Definitely," Li chimed in.
"Yummy," Katy, a young blond who worked in accounting added, in case any clarification were needed. "Do you guys know if he liked the chocolate chip cookies I made?"
"I liked your cookies," Jesse replied, a hopeful look on his face.
As Robert watched, Bobby demonstrated a flying kick that almost landed him on his butt. Ian shook his head and muttered something, his attention fixed on the boy. With one explosive movement, he leapt into the air, his right leg snapping out and up, easily extending to ten feet above the ground. Bobby's awed gaze was quickly followed by an attempt to mimic Ian's form. The effort ended with his head descending straight for the stone floor. Robert was halfway to his feet when Ian caught Bobby in a strong grip and swung him up to perch on his shoulder.
Completely unfazed, Bobby grabbed the top of Ian's head with one grubby hand, using the other to strike at unseen enemies as Ian began striding rapidly toward his crowd of onlookers.
Unbound hair swung loose about his shoulders, framing his face in a dark mane of unruly curls. The close cropped goatee Ian now sported gave him a demonic look, the effect enhanced by the way he moved. Every muscle stood out in sharp relief beneath pale skin, the smooth play of tendon and sinew hypnotic and deadly. Robert decided that if a snake could swagger, it would look like that.
Conversation ceased, the young men who stood at pool-side drawing themselves up, their backs going stiff, their chins rising. Coming to a halt before them, Ian's eyes flickered over each face. With a slight nod that screamed 'at ease', his assessment ended.
As the younger crowd began drifting off, half of them diving into the heated waters of the pool, Ian deposited Bobby on the ground and turned to Robert. Standing at the end of the chaise lounge, he bowed his head, clearly awaiting orders.
It was ludicrous. There was a half-naked man wearing a pair of low-slung black trunks paying him homage like it was the most natural thing in the world. With a sudden start, Robert recognized that this was what it was really like to be a king. He also realized he didn't like it. "Go get a beer, Ian."
A muscle twitched in his jaw, but Ian made no other protest. As he turned to go, Li called softly to him in Taiwanese. Robert saw the ghost of a smile in his eyes as Ian gave her a half-bow and then walked away.
"Hey Frank, what did Li say to him?" Robert whispered.
"Rough translation- 'Your grace is wasted on these dumbass white boys.'. Of course, it sounds more polite in Taiwanese. Most things do."
*****************
"You still cook a mean steak," Frank said, slapping an arm to Robert's shoulder. "Gonna come watch the fun? Bobby brought the sword out."
"How do I let you talk me into these things," Robert moaned as they walked toward the treeline at the back of his property.
"Admit it, you're curious too."
"Yea, well you know what they say about curiosity."
"Fortunately, we ain't cats." Lowering his voice, Frank continued. "You notice the scars?"
"Hard to miss," Robert replied. "Looks like he got cut a time or two in Ninja 101."
"I meant the scars on his back, Bobby," Frank chided.
Robert avoided his eyes. "Probably shrapnel."
"Bullshit. Someone did that to him. Purposefully. Deliberately. That wasn't a war wound, Bobby. It was a punishment."
Halting in the middle of the field, Robert grabbed Frank by the arm. "You want to ask him about it?"
"No!"
"Well neither do I. We're gonna leave this one alone, Frank. Ian's past is dead and buried. The smart thing to do is leave it be."
Frank nodded his agreement. "It does make sense of a few things, though."
"Nothing about that man makes sense. I doubt that's likely to change," Robert said, resuming his pace.
Ian's low voice drifted over to them. He knelt beside Bobby, a sheathed katana held horizontally in his hands. "The length is too short for me, but it will be a good practice blade when you're older. It's not a work of art, but it is serviceable."
"Show me something I can practice?" Bobby asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet in his eagerness.
Ian shook his head, slowly pulling the weapon from its sheath. "No. You might cut yourself," he said as he began twirling the blade in a lazy figure eight pattern. "Train with a kendo stick. You're sensei will know when you are ready for a sharpened blade."
"Is that what happened to your back? Training?"
Robert flinched at the question, and the blade in Ian's hand seemed to hesitate.
"The scars are from training, yes," Ian replied, his voice still calm and gentle.
"How long before I'm as good as you?"
Ian debated a moment, his hands picking up speed. The air around him began to hum, the breeze kicked up by the twisting metal ruffling his hair. Finally, he shrugged and cocked his head to the side. "Never."
The darkening sky screamed and the slender blade turned to gold as it ripped through the ether too fast to see. It was a deadly dance, a whirlwind of metal, flesh and bone. One movement flowed into the next, divine order and perfect discipline yielding utter chaos and total destruction. His eyes shining and his teeth bared, Ian exalted in the bloodlust as it sang through his veins. An instance before blood was drawn, he stopped the dance. The flat of his sword pressed lightly against the boy's throat, and Ian could feel the rapid pulse of his heart carried to him by the gleaming steel. Slowly, he let out a deep sigh and allowed the point of his blade to drop.
"Wow!" Wide-eyed and flushed, Bobby stared at him with a reverence generally reserved for gods. "Do it again!"
*****************
"That was quite a show you put on," Robert said, halting Ian with a raised hand as the others made their way back to the house.
Ian kept his eyes on the now sheathed weapon. Almost reluctantly, he offered it up to Robert. "I haven't held a blade since.... It's been a long time. I had managed to forget the beauty of it."
Taking the katana, Robert merely nodded. "Are you planning to follow me in to work tomorrow? Frank gave up your little secret."
Ian ducked his head further, his hair falling forward and shielding his eyes. "I'm a bodyguard, Mr. Jameson. It's what I do. It's what I've always done."
"Guess I'll take that as a 'yes'," Robert muttered. "I'll be leaving at 7:30. You insist on doing this, we might as well ride in together. Show up early, and you can grab breakfast with the family."
Ian glanced over, his eyes widening. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. One more thing, Ian. Don't you ever, I mean fucking ever, bring a sharpened blade that close to my son again."
Half-a-step behind his boss, Ian simply nodded.