And so begins chapter two. This chapter reintroduces a pivotal character from the last story and also introduces two new ones who will play an important role in the coming plot. I therefore recommend that you not skim the beginning to get to the lovin. I will also give my everlasting respect and admiration to anyone who can tell me where I borrowed the beginning of the last chapter from (it was originally a play and was later made into a movie several decades ago). Joy and goodwill to y'all, and please pretty please review to tell me how I'm doing (constructive criticism gladly accepted, please just don't make me cry).
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"Checkmate." I glare disbelievingly at the fine chessboard sitting on the table in front of me. Made of aged cedar wood and inlaid with squares of abalone and obsidian it had been handed down to me from my great-grandfather. Like me, he had been a senator for the great state of Washington. Unlike my humble self he had been a legislator at the very height of the Unites States' power, back during the 1950's when the war to end all wars had fattened the economy like a lamb to the slaughter and women wore pearls when they vacuumed and prepared their carcinogenic tv dinners. I turn my baleful glaze on my apparently worthy opponent. Her own sparklingly blue eyes laugh reproachfully in return. She is truly her father's daughter.
"Really Mum no need to get tidgy, I won fair and square and you know it." Her father's daughter indeed, she smiles brilliantly at me and the likeness between them causes an unbearable lump in my throat. I immediately focus my mind on other matters, long ago I'd learned that fussing over spilled milk is quite a useless pastime.
"Elbows off the table Elizabeth, and really must you slouch so? I really must wonder Liz, what they are teaching you at that boarding school. One would think that the British at least could instill manners in such an imp as you." My own lips tug up slightly at the corners as she archly raises one dark eyebrow and adjusts her chin to what those in our set would call the "proper height".
"Well now mother, I must protest that St. Catherine's is a first rate institution. I could quote you Shakespeare or Wordsworth with equal ease, and my derivative calculus is progressing quite satisfactorily, and the Surrey countryside really is lovely at this time of year. Besides, there's this all boys school just a few miles away and some of the lads there are just…" I clear my throat ostentatiously and she stops her too pat recitation. Andrew used to talk like that, blather on just to annoy me, just to get a laugh out of me when I was down.
A sharp knock at study door kindly cut me off from further introspection. Flinging herself across the room in that particularly ungainly way that most fifteen year olds possess, Liz yanks the heavy walnut door open and is almost hit in the face by my assistant's raised fist as he maneuvers to knock again. Eyes bugging out slightly Jonathan quickly drops his hand to his side and attempts a posture of nonchalance.
"Hallo Jonathan! How are you today old boy?" Beaming suspiciously Liz grabs up his recently dropped hand and pumps it vigorously. "Come in, come in won't you and have a spot of tea." Still holding the poor young man firmly by the hand she drags him forward into the study and dumps him unceremoniously onto the couch. I wince slightly at her treatment of my grandmother's china as she roughly catches up one of the teacups. Her sugary smile glazes slightly as she realizes that we'd polished off the tea a good hour ago, and instead thrusts a gooey bun from the salver tray into his immaculate hands. If possible his pale hazel eyes jump further out of their sockets as he gapes open mouthed at my young progeny.
"Yes, well uhm. Thank you Miss." Jonathan's words come out oddly strangled. "If young Miss would perhaps excuse us I have some rather sensitive information which craves attention from the Senator." I wince slightly at Jon's pomposity and rather begin to regret having sent Liz off to England to try to mold her into this stodgy, formal behavior.
"Please Liz, go down to the kitchen and ask Maria when dinner shall be ready." Something about Jonathan's stiffer than usual, and that's really saying something, posture was setting off little alarms in my head.
"But Mum." Her forehead frumps together making her look rather like a hedgehog but I get the distinct feeling that the news coming is not suitable for young ears.
"Now Elizabeth Rose!" Glaring balefully at me she stalks to the door and bangs it shut on her way out. My hand darts out instinctually to catch the black bishop as it teeters from its precarious position at the edge of the table and makes a dive for the floor.
"My apologies Jonathan, teenagers can be so trying can they not. Now what is it that you had to tell me?"
"It's about Senator Bradley ma'am. The private detective you hired last summer has at last dug up some interesting information." A small thud and a hiss of pain directly outside the door cause Jonathan to start and me to roll my eyes. I mouth my daughters name at him and roll my eyes deprecatorily. Twitching nervously the thin boy leans towards me.
"It's just we've finally found a connection Senator Burnhart, between Mr. Bradley and certain criminal elements. It would appear that he has had contact with Them."
The black bishop shatters as it crashes against the wall.
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The glaring whiteness of the walls is the first thing which strikes me on waking, the cleanliness is notable in a world were dirt and grime cover just about everything. The second is that my pillow is shaking with violent spasms. Rolling over carefully I lift my head from Alec's well articulated chest. His eyes are still closed in sleep but his brow is puckered in an expression of worry and his head jerks lightly as though he's trying to escape from some night terror. Shifting onto my knees I cup his head in my hands steadying him and lower my lips to his fretted brow. As though the physical contact has broken some magical spell his eyes snap open and his body stills.
"Bad dreams my love?" With seeming difficulty he focuses his stormy hazel eyes on my face and takes in a shuddering breath. "Alec? Are you in there? That must have been one hell of a dream." I feel rather than see his muscles relaxing one by one, and I maneuver my body slightly so that his head is cushioned on my lap. A slow and tentative smile lights up his features as he takes in my face, as though he takes steadiness from my presence.
"Just a stupid dream. A mission that I went on years ago for Manticore. Me and some other soldiers were sent out to one of those rinky dink islands in the Pacific to take out a little band of smugglers that had stolen some sensitive information. To make a long story short, the small band of smugglers was a little larger than Intel indicated and we took a few losses. Honestly I can't say what triggered the dream, but I'm sure it's all just stupid." He grimaces self deprecatingly and shifts his body to a sitting position.
"Are you sure that's all it was? You seemed awfully upset." His long arms snake out to wrap around me and he pulls forward until we sit nose to nose.
"Now I really think that you have enough to be worrying about without borrowing trouble." And with that he kisses me so thoroughly that the dream slips my mind completely.
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It's an hour later, when we're curled together again on the blanket on the floor, that the Alec's cell phone rings out insistently. The slow torpor of our extracurricular activities slides off of me like a robe and I'm filled with a sense of deep foreboding. Hands shaking lightly again he picks up the phone and unfolds it. The conversation is brief and he replies in raspy monosyllables to the person on the other end. Refolding the small phone his hazel eyes lock on mine.
"It was her, she's expecting us at noon."