Summary: Ada Bennett is an anti-war journalist who too often makes impulsive decisions that don't always work out in her favor. Not taking the TIME piece is one. Trusting James Conrad is another.
AN: A shameless OC-insert for an underrated movie. While I actually did like Mason Weaver as a character overall, I didn't always buy her stoicism and not being fazed by the crazy bat-shit stuff that was happening to her and around her. I get that's her thing, but it didn't feel real to me.
Extraordinary
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"Men go to war in search of something, Mr. Conrad. If you'd found it, you'd be home by now."
Is that why he was here on this behemoth of a ship?
Those words filtered back into Conrad's mind every now and then as he surveyed the many different characters swarming the deck. The crew, military personnel, scientists, and even a rogue journalist he caught sight of by the auburn of her hair and the camera around her neck as she poked around.
It was curious for an expedition like this, but he supposed he had enough curiosity of his own. Enough to pull him out of the slums of Bangkok for a while at least.
The Athena was slow to take off, and it'd be days before they got to the uncharted island in the Pacific. As he made his way belowdecks for the briefing meeting, he stood in the corner of the room, near Randa and his team who hired him, and took in how the scientists and the soldiers naturally congregated on opposite sides of the room. Like oil and water.
But the journalist, she stood dead center—all the way in the back. She was following the presentation of the island, making notes in her journal.
"As our satellites show, the island is surrounded by a perpetual storm system, allowing it to remain hidden from the outside world…"
Ada was well practiced at taking notes on the fly. Her editor used to say he could see sparks coming off her pen. Unfortunately, the habit carried whether she was taking down an off-the-cuff interview, routine meetings, or daydreaming with her coffee.
Always with her coffee. She couldn't live without the jolt like a hippie couldn't live without a bump of their high of choice.
But even though her hand was on autopilot during the presentation, her eyes weren't just following the slides. She observed every interaction she could, between the Landsat scientists and Colonel Packard's men, to Mr. Randa's team and their hired jungle tracker.
That one cut a tall, lean form standing off to the side of the room. The way he stood said military, though she remembered in the brief—he was former S.A.S., a captain. He certainly looked the part.
"We'll use explosives to shake the earth and create vibrations, helping us to map the subsurface of the island," said Houston Brooks. He was one of Randa's guys, a homey academic type who'd probably never been anywhere close to a field mission.
"We'll fly over the south shore and then strategically drop the seismic charges to better help us understand the density of the earth."
Seismic charges. Sounds more like bombs to me, Ada thought dryly.
"You're dropping bombs."
Ada's head lifted towards the tracker. His arms were crossed as he stared up at Brooks with some rather focused blue eyes. Ada could appreciate his directness, especially when he'd just voiced what she (and the rest of them, she was sure) were thinking.
"Scientific instruments," Brooks' smile because a tad nervous.
And this was why Ada put a safety pin in the TIME piece to fight for this assignment. The cover story for their mission was tenuous at best, and she was determined to see through Landsat's admittedly thorough smoke screen.
Or maybe it wasn't Landsat. According to the brief notes, Randa and his team were U.S. government geologists, not part of the privately-owned Landsat. Maybe it was Uncle Sam pulling the strings on this little initiative after all.
"We'll then land on the island and make basecamp for ground excursions, led by Mr. Conrad," Nieves, one of the scientists, gestured to Captain Blue Eyes. The captain's expression was hard to read, but considering his background, Ada had a feeling he was just as wary about what they were getting into. Particularly if they weren't being given the whole story.
Major Chapman went ahead and detailed their plans for getting through the island once they were on foot. They would have three days to get to the north of the island and rendezvous to signal the ship. If they missed that window, then as Ada understood it, they were pretty much fucked.
Delightful, she mused.
After the briefing, she pocketed her pen and notebook and let most of the men leave before her, heading upstairs to the left while she headed off to the right. Being that she was the only woman on the ship, she figured that would either make her stand out like a sore thumb, or virtually invisible. Just now, she was thankful for the latter.
With her camera in hand, she tried not to let the brick heels of her shoes tap too loudly on the floor as she went down another short flight of stairs into the cargo area. There she found those "scientific instruments" they were talking about. Lots and lots of explosives, guns and ammo.
God, she hated guns.
Ada peeked around the corner and found a familiar face, good old Blue Eyes with a lighter in hand, reading the labels on a Landsat crate of goodies. He noticed her all too quickly, closing and pocketing the lighter.
"What are you doing down here?" His voice was deep and stern. An admittedly attractive voice, but she kept her professional mask in place. The last thing she wanted was for any of the men on this ship to get the idea she was here for anything but the job. In her experience, men with ideas often got handsy.
"Same as you, I'd imagine," she returned. "Why does a geological mapping mission need explosives?"
Instead of telling her to get back upstairs where she belonged, James Conrad surprised her by sliding his hands into his pockets and walking with her down the line of crates.
"You weren't paying attention in class," he said. His British accent made the words lilt a bit with his wry humor, and she suddenly got the feeling they were kindred spirits. "They're seismic charges for the geological survey."
"Sure," she agreed. "What else could they be?"
He shot her something of an amused glance. Ada knew then that he didn't believe a word Brooks said either.
"Have you met Colonel Packard?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yeah."
"Hmm. The guy's wound pretty tight."
Packard had in no subtle terms blamed "her kind"—meaning journalists—for losing them the war in Vietnam. She was no doubt an advocate for the power of a well-placed word combined with an equally persuasive picture, but to say she was the reason the fight became pointless was something else entirely.
"Well, the man's a decorated war hero," Conrad remarked. "That's the package they come in."
Ada smiled. At the very least, his sense of humor definitely aligned with hers.
"And you?" he asked. "Isn't a mapping mission a step down for an accomplished journalist?"
They stopped at the end of the cargo bay, and finally she faced him fully. Ada wasn't surprised that he'd looked into her. She'd done as much on him, and all the other major players here. She was a little surprised that he was interested in what she might have to say. Woodward, that Landsat scientist, barely gave her a second glance after he realized she wasn't a man. She'd had to point out that the M in Adam was actually the initial M.
Ada Marie Bennett.
A better scientist would've confirmed his sources if he was that concerned.
"Stories, pictures, movies—they all accomplish the same thing," Ada replied. "They can shape opinions."
"And win you a Pulitzer," Conrad returned. His small grin was charming as it was perceptive.
"All right," she'd give him that, "Captain Conrad. How did British Special Forces get dragged into this circus act?"
"Just Conrad. I'm decommissioned," he corrected. When she only stared at him expectantly, he gave a brief nod in concession.
"They offered me money."
Ada hummed at that. "You don't strike me as the mercenary type."
"You don't strike me as a war journalist," Conrad countered, tilting his head just so. She smiled back at him a little tightly. It was her turn to correct him.
"Anti-war journalist."
From what she could tell, the soldiers in Packard's unit were good men. Rowdy and obnoxious at times, but good men who probably served their country honorably. Chapman, Cole, Mills, Kebbell, and young Slivko. They nearly made her gut burst and tears stream down her eyes with their terrible, inappropriate jokes and just generally giving each other shit.
She just couldn't erase the knowledge from her mind that every single one of these men—even James Conrad—had killed in the name of duty.
Ada was under no illusions. She'd paid her dues in the field for her job, and she knew what war was. She'd seen the evidence of its horrors, saw it every day in her father's eyes growing up.
Two days later, she woke that morning from a very fitful sleep. The ships slow, but constant teetering and tottering wasn't exactly helping her feel grounded out in the open sea, and the intermittent nausea had kept her from eating much more than dry bread and even drier crackers with water.
With yet another large mug of coffee in hand, she went out on the deck and went up the stairs to the highest platform on the ship. Maybe after surrounding herself with the fresh air, the fog in her brain and the churning in her stomach would give her a moment's peace.
Conrad was already there, looking out at the calm open ocean ahead of them. Unlike her, with her tangled mess of hair and wrinkled shirt and cargo pants, he looked…well, the only word she could find to describe it was immaculate. His thin long-sleeved shirt was rolled to the elbows, but it fit him well, along with the watch, belt, pants and shoes.
She felt like a recluse that had just seen the sun after weeks of seclusion.
"How many does that make this morning?" he asked, nodding at her coffee.
"Three," Ada admitted. "Every writer has a vice."
"I don't think that's limited to writers," he remarked, smiling slightly.
"Oh really? You always look bright and shiny in the morning," she accused. His smile became a bit more genuine.
"Force of habit."
"Sure," her sarcasm was evident. "Getting used to sea travel was not in my training."
"You did sign on for this," he pointed out.
She held up a hand. "I'm not complaining. I just wish we'd get there sooner."
Conrad slid her a glance that she couldn't very well read.
"You may not be saying that once we do."
She didn't fully understand what he meant until they were in range of the storm system surrounding the island. It was immense, meaning the ship couldn't make it through. They'd all have to go in individual helicopters to even have a prayer of making it, and who knows what they would find on the other side.
She found it strange that they'd equipped the helicopters with machine guns, but despite her normal aversion to weapons, better to be safe than sorry. Her fear of heights was already making her stomach roll uncomfortably at the thought of riding through turbulent weather.
Packard pointed her in the direction of which helicopter she was going to be riding in, piloted by Slivko, though she didn't expect to find James Conrad. He'd taken the nearest seat, which meant she'd have to climb over him if she wanted to get over to a seatbelt as soon as possible.
She sighed, though just as she was about to do just that, he held up a hand to her and moved over himself. Ada stared at him a moment in surprise, then snapped herself out of it and took the open seat he'd left for her. Usually she didn't take kindly to politeness just because she was a woman, but somehow from him, it didn't feel like that.
"Thank you," she muttered to him quietly. She fastened her seatbelt, cursing the mild tremble in her hands.
"Don't tell me you're also scared to fly?" Conrad said dryly. She shot him a glare that had little heat, thanks to her nerves.
"I'm still on board, aren't I?"
Conrad shook his head, but he was smirking. Ada rolled her eyes, fighting her own amusement.
It wasn't long until they took off into the full force of the storm. In short, it was everything she was afraid it would be.
The wind and rain slapped them around like the hand of God, and the only thing Ada could do was grit her teeth and hold onto the rail above her. The helicopter didn't even have closed doors, letting in the rain to whip across her face, chest, and in her eyes. Without armrests at her seat, every large bump and dip the aircraft made caused her other hand to lose her grip on her knee. Once she slapped Conrad in the face by accident, but she didn't have the time to say sorry before the clouds parted to blinding sunshine.
She tried in vain to slow her breathing, finding even the smell of the air was different. The must and exhaust from the ships and aircrafts were replaced with the crispness of nature. And it was a natural wonder, the island, made of great sloping mountains, flat white beaches, and wide expanses of forest trees. Large rocks poked out of the water below them, and she was grateful they hadn't gone down on one of those.
But she did finally remember to grab her camera and snap nearly a dozen pictures, grateful that her lens and extra film hadn't gotten wet.
Scores of white birds flew past them with an updraft of wind, and Ada gained her courage enough to peer slightly out of the helicopter to take in a deep breath of the air.
Ada couldn't know that Conrad was smiling a bit, seeing her relax and actually enjoying herself despite the complete and utter fear she'd clearly been experiencing only minutes ago. His cheek still smarted from her hand.
He could admit, the island was beautiful. And that was about how it always started.
As anxieties died down, he heard Creedence Clearwater Revival's Fortunate Son playing on a record player two helicopters down. The unit split up into thirds, while the Landsat team and Randa's people landed.
Then they started dropping the seismic charges, scattering birds and, he was sure, other wildlife below. He was also sure they may have to contend with some of that wildlife once they landed.
They weren't just disturbing the ground, they were disturbing an ecosystem that had little no human interference before today. There was no way to predict the outcome of that, but it was his job to find the solutions once the effects became clear.
One more glance at Ada Bennett told him she was thinking along the same lines, as she watched another explosive ravage the earth below. She turned around and they shared a look.
Then the first helicopter went down.
Ada felt concussed.
That was the best way to describe the utter clusterfuck that left her scrambling out of a wrecked, burning helicopter onto a blessedly solid patch of grass. She struggled to catch her breath, knowing she should keep moving if the goddamn plane was on fire.
She dimly felt someone (or something) grab her arm and help her to her feet. She was dragged a safe distance away before she all but fell into a heap on the ground. Slivko was alive, if bleeding and covered in grime. She was sure she wasn't much better off.
Then Conrad stood in front of her, talking to her she was sure. Finally what he was saying cut through the hazy ringing in her ears.
"Are you okay?" he asked. His tone suggested he'd asked that question a couple of times already, so she nodded.
"I don't know…God, I don't know," she replied. Her voice didn't sound as steady as she'd meant. "Can you tell me what I just saw was real?"
The corner of his lips lifted slightly.
"I can confirm that, yes," he nodded. She managed to smile back, if weakly.
"Then I might be okay."
"All right. Just sit tight for a bit."
That was perfectly fine with her. It was quiet in the valley, which hopefully meant they were safe. Nieves, Brooks, and Sans had been with the first ground team and had found them by a stroke of luck.
Conrad and Slivko started checking the helicopter for what was left of their supplies. Slivko found his lucky red headband, using it to stem a bleeding cut on his forehead. He also unearthed the only passable radio they had left to contact the other units, while Conrad dug out some rations, weapons, and some other things they'd need to survive trekking through the jungle.
He came back to her with her camera in hand. The moment she took it from him, she realized it was time to snap out of her daze. She still had her journal and pen zipped up inside her jacket pocket. She was alive and whole.
But what they'd seen was real.
That giant fucking ape the size of Empire State was real, and in her mind, so too were other monsters that go bump in the night. Probably.
Where the hell are we?
After checking that her camera was still working, she got to her feet (shaking though they were) and started helping gather a backpack with the supplies Conrad had collected while he scouted ahead. Slivko was on the radio, trying to get in contact with Packard, or anyone that happened to be listening to the frequency.
"They're all down," Conrad said. He came back with his binoculars in hand, sweating and panting for breath a bit. Just how far had he gone to scout?
Wherever he'd gone, he wore a grave expression that didn't inspire much confidence. "Every one of them. We're on the south side of the island. There's a river a couple of clicks from here, if we stick to its banks we'll make it to the intended rendezvous point on the north shore."
"And then what?" Nieves shot back. "All the choppers are down!"
"We'll find a way to signal the ship. They'll send a search party…we just have to make it by the axel window."
"I, uh…I should be sitting at a desk," Nieves turned from him to stew in his panic for a bit. Ada didn't fault him for it. But when she shifted her gaze back to Conrad, the solid look he gave her was enough to steady her. She could put her trust in him.
"So wait, are we just not gunna talk about this?" exclaimed Slivko.
Sweat poured off him too, and even as a young soldier, Ada knew he was just as scared as her. Unlike him, she'd internalized her fear until it stopped her from moving. Fight or flight response was clear for both of them, but this is what someone like Conrad was trained in and had already lived through. That gave her courage enough to follow him.
He gave each of them a weapon, though Ada chose to stick with her camera. She didn't know the first thing about wielding a gun, despite her father's efforts. But she knew from his half a dozen lessons that a gun in novice hands could be just as dangerous as a master's, so she chose not to get someone killed.
They started making their way through the depths of the jungle landscape. It was hot, the mosquitos were huge, the terrain was tough, but this much Ada could deal with. It was the massive, man-eating animals she had a problem with.
It wasn't long before Conrad demanded the truth from Brooks on what this mission had actually been about. Brooks was so nervous with an S.A.S. captain staring him down that he spilled his guts.
"Our organization, if you can call it that, is Monarch. What we're investigating…it's called the Hollow Earth theory," Brooks tried to explain. "Randa hired me because I wrote a paper, substantiating what most people think is a crackpot idea. That there are these massive underground spaces, isolated from the surface world."
Ada sighed. This was why she didn't get into academia.
"Passageways," Sans supplied, "Randa believe this island may be one of those."
"An emergence point," Brooks added. "For whatever lives below, ancient species like what we just saw…I thought he was out of his mind."
That was certainly ominous. Ada and Slivko shared a worrying look.
Eventually they made it to the river, which broke out of the forest into a beautiful, picturesque flatlands. Ada snapped a couple of pictures.
"This is Slivko, do you read?" the soldier tried his radio again. "If there's anybody out there, we're headed to the north shore…everyone here seems way too calm right now."
"If I look calm, I'll take that as a compliment," Ada remarked.
"Do you copy? Anybody?"
"We're out of range, Slivko. Try again when we're closer," Conrad said. He was probably getting as irritated with the sound of the radio's feedback as she was.
Suddenly there was a deep groaning from the river, startling them as a great bison rose out from the depths. It was easy five times as big as any cow she'd ever seen, with large, dangerous-looking horns that forked out into three points on each side. It was incredible as it was terrifying, and Slivko was about to shoot it in his fear.
Or try to, at least. She wasn't sure the bullet would make it under all that mass of fur.
"Don't shoot," Conrad said calmly. "Steady…"
Ada didn't move a muscle in her body. Slivko's twitching was making her nervous, and she could see that same energy in the animal's eyes. It stared him down in almost a glare, if giant water bison had expressions.
"Slivko," Conrad said.
"What?"
"Put it down."
Conrad slowly reached out a hand and finally grasped Slivko's gun, lowering it nice and slow.
The bison gave another low groan and seemed to relax then, allowing Ada to breathe. Unconsciously, she brought her camera up to her face and snapped a picture before it turned back to the river, gradually swimming away from them.
"National Geographic would eat this place alive," she murmured. Conrad shot her a glance.
"They'd certainly pay a fortune for that picture."
Her lips quirked at a dry smile. She knew he was right, but why didn't that thought excite her like it would under any other circumstance?
Ada would've liked to say seeing creatures the size of dinosaurs was the extent of her strange and terrifying day, but that wasn't even the short of it. Though what their little group encountered next ended up being a blessing in disguise; just as she thought they'd have to spend the night in the middle of yet another forest, they'd been surrounded by a group of painted tribal inhabitants that seemed intent on killing them for trespassing.
Until, that is, they met Lt. Hank Marlowe. He'd been stranded there for 28 years, since World War II. He'd apparently crash-landed on the island, and had been trying to get back to the world ever since. He seemed the hermit type, complete with a long grey beard and crazy eyes. But he interceded the natives on their behalf, welcoming them in after the tribe's leaders seemed to allow their presence in the hidden community.
"You've probably noticed a lot of weird stuff on this island. As long as we stay here where the people live, we'll be all right," Marlow said. He guided them through the primitive lakeside town, and Ada was captured by the sight of it all. She took pictures, of course, and later (if she had the energy) she would write some notes in her journal. Then she noticed the huge wall made up of sharpened tree trunks and dotted by literal red flags.
"Is that wall meant to keep out that…thing?" she asked.
"Nah. He's not the one they're tryna keep out," Marlowe said.
The people of the village stared at them as they passed by. Most of their faces were painted in yellow and white with symbols, some even marked their arms and backs. Marlowe explained that while they seemed primitive, they had "moved past" personal property, acts of crime, and even speaking. They shared everything they had, and some of them didn't even seem to age.
He took them to see the Wanderer, a naval ship that had crashed onto the island maybe ten years before Marlowe himself had. The natives had made it part of their sacred ground, creating a sculpture of stories from various images painted on rocks like hieroglyphics.
Ada could barely believe her eyes. It told the story of Kong, the ape who protected them from the more unsavory creatures of the island.
"The way they tell it, for thousands of years the people of this island lived in fear. That's a hell of a long time to be scared," Marlowe said. "And then one day, the damnedest thing happened. Some of the things they were afraid of started protecting them from the things that were eatin' 'em…and this is where they honor the last of their saviors."
From the looks of the giant stone bearing the image of Kong, he was like a god for the native Iwi people. And he'd apparently taken issue with the scientific instruments they'd used to blow up parts of the land on their way in.
Ada sighed. Of course.
"You woke up something deadly. The Iwis won't speak their name, but I call 'em Skull Crawlers."
"Why?" Conrad asked.
"'Cause it sounds neat," Marlowe said, as if that shouldn't be obvious. Conrad nodded, sharing a slight look with Ada.
"Okay," he agreed.
"Look, I just made the name up. I'm tryna scare ya."
"I mean, I'm fine with calling them that," Ada said. The last thing they wanted to do was make a guy like this feel on edge. She looked over at Conrad. "You okay with that?"
Luckily, he caught her drift.
"Y-Yeah. Seems like a…a great name," Conrad supplied. It was the first time she'd seen him struggle for words in a situation, and for some reason that made her smile. Although it was definitely an odd situation, so she'd grant him that.
"I've never said that name out loud before. It sounds stupid now that I—just…" Marlowe sighed. "You call 'em whatever you want. They're big lizard things, and they ate my friend."
When Marlowe had crash landed, he'd been locked in a battle with a Japanese soldier. Once they'd found themselves stranded, stripped of the war and their responsibilities, they'd become fast friends united by their goal of survival and leaving the island. That plan got derailed when Gunpei was taken by one of the Skull Crawlers.
Their explosives had shaken up their dwelling places, giant vents in the ground like burrows for archaic lizards that typically slept in the daytime. But they'd woken up, causing Kong to locate the source of the disturbance.
"Tell you what, you're lucky he's out there or you wouldn't have made it this far," Marlowe added. "They're crafty bastards, mean as hell. He can handle 'em as long as they're small, but you don't wanna wake up the Big One."
He pointed a finger at Conrad, punctuating his point.
"How big is it?" Sans asked, echoing Ada's thoughts.
"Bigger," said Marlowe. "It wiped out Kong's whole family."
Ada could see from the vignette images on the rocks that there were once families of apes who ruled over the island. But now there was only one.
Marlowe continued his grim tale, and all the while Ada could feel her anxiety rising.
"They say Kong's still growin' and you better hope he does, 'cause if he goes, then the Big One comes up. Then it's goodnight, Irene."
Perhaps Conrad saw her starting to lose it. She had a feeling he did, because after a short glance at her, he cut in with Marlowe to explain their plan of escaping the island. By getting to the north shore in three days. While at first Marlowe seemed to think that was impossible, he did end up with an idea.
He took them to a boat barely floating on the edge of the bank. Though it wasn't so much a boat as it was two different styles of plane assembled together like Huckleberry Finn's raft. It had been Marlowe and Gunpei's plan to sail off with it, but for Gunpei, that plan had been cut short.
"There she is," Marlowe grinned. Just as proud. Conrad was less impressed.
"Well that's lovely," he deadpanned. Ada shook her head.
Marlowe's grin widened. "Damn right."
Nieves shook his head. "That thing looks like it's made out of pure tetanus."
They spent the rest of the daylight hours trying to fix the Great Fox it into passable condition. Luckily Slivko's father was a mechanic. If he couldn't get the engine running, his dad would disown him, according to Slivko anyway.
Ada's knowledge of anything electrical didn't extend much past her microwave. But she held things in place while Slivko worked, and generally filled in as much as she could. Even Nieves, Brooks and Sans' combined knowledge of scientific equipment, aerodynamics, and physics gave them something helpful to contribute. But Ada felt like the most useless person in the group.
"I got this, Ada," Slivko wiped at his sweaty brow as he held a pair of cogs in his hand. "Why don't you see if Conrad needs help."
She highly doubted it. Captain Blue Eyes was nothing if not sure of himself at all times. But she got the hint that she was getting in his way more than she was helping. So Ada nodded with a smile, patting Slivko's shoulder before she moved down to the opposite end of the boat.
Conrad was dealing with the makeshift throttle. Or what she assumed was…honestly, she had no idea what he was doing. Whatever it was, he was lying on his back on the floor, looking like a stereotypical beefy handyman. Ada found her eyes drifting to his straining pecks and muscles in his arms, but quickly shifted back to his face when he noticed her.
"Can I help?" she asked. "I think I was just getting in Slivko's way over there."
He smiled slightly, but shook his head. "I'm good actually."
When he didn't offer anything else, she nodded, feeling rather stupid as well as useless.
"Okay. I'll let you get back to it then."
She eyed her camera sitting on the side of the boat. Grabbing it, she stepped back onto the shore. With one last glance at everyone working together, she sighed and returned to the village. If nothing else, she could try and get to know the people and take a few pictures to remember them, if they let her.
Conrad watched her back as she left. Having seen the look of helplessness on her face, at once he understood where he'd gone wrong and felt a bit badly. He reminded himself to keep working. The faster they got this done, the sooner they could all get the hell out of here.
Around an hour later, the sun started dipping into the late afternoon. He smelled food in the air, stirring his hunger. He knew he hadn't eaten for several hours and hadn't expected to. But it was a relief knowing they wouldn't go hungry tonight.
Conrad got up from the floor of the boat and looked over at the busy village. It wasn't too far that he couldn't see Ada, smiling and laughing as she interacted with the Iwis. One of them had her camera, having figured out how it worked, and she was posing with a group of them. Her smile was bright an infectious.
Conrad didn't realize he was smiling himself until he heard a chuckle from Marlowe. Upon glancing over at him sharply, the older man simply raised his brows, all too obviously jerking a thumb in Ada's direction and back to Conrad.
He shook his head imperceptibly and went back to his work on the steering throttle, ignoring Marlowe's full on belly laugh.
They decided to stop for the day when night finally fell and the smell of a warm meal became too tempting of a proposition. Returning to the village though, Conrad didn't catch sight of Ada anywhere. He frowned.
"Where's Ada?" Slivko said, unknowingly vocalizing his thoughts.
But just as he was about to call out for her, she appeared hastily making it through a small person-sized gap in the large protective wall.
"What the hell were you doing out there alone?" It came out of his mouth before he could stop himself, or at least reign it in. Ada's brown eyes widened as she stopped, looking a bit startled by his stern tone. But she seemed too wound up to let that fully distract her.
"I saw him," she said quickly.
"Saw who?" Slivko asked in worry.
"Kong," she replied. "I saw Kong."
Ada told her story over dinner. How she'd slipped through the wall and found a bison trapped under the weight of a fallen helicopter. She hadn't been strong enough to lift it, no matter how she tried. But she hadn't needed to. Kong lifted it for her.
"Our eyes met, Conrad," she told him. While the others had filtered off to rest, only they remained sitting at the warm fire in the midst of a surprisingly chilly night. The weather here was undoubtedly ruled by extremes.
"It was like…like we were connecting." Ada's eyes were honey brown by the light, alive with wonder and fear and excitement all at once. He couldn't help but be drawn in by her animated expression.
"You think he was assessing you?" he asked.
"Definitely," she nodded. "I'm just lucky he determined I wasn't a threat."
He snorted at that. "You are."
A grin curved her lips.
"I am a threat, or I'm lucky?"
Shaking his head, Conrad played along.
"I haven't decided," he replied, making her guffaw with a fake laugh that soon dissolved into a real one. Like her smile, that too was infectious. And he laughed for a long time before he realized he hadn't done that truly in years.
She looked up at the sky, noticing for the first time the aurora borealis that painted it with illuminating colors.
"Isn't it odd, the most dangerous places are always the most beautiful," Conrad mused.
"I'd love to take a long exposure photo," she sighed. "But my flashlight broke after we crash landed."
He fished his lighter out of his pocket and offered it to her. Her eyes widening, she thanked him before setting up her camera on the log they were sitting on. When she couldn't quite get it right, he helped her stack a couple stones underneath the camera so that it could stay at the right angle.
She then glanced at the engraving on the lighter in her hand. "Royal Airforce?"
"My father's," he supplied. "He threw it to me from the train as he rolled off to fight the Nazis."
Ada stopped what she was doing with her camera then, giving him her full attention. He noticed she did that often. When someone spoke to her, she knew how to listen.
"He was like John Wayne to me. Like some kind of mythic hero," he admitted.
"Did he get back?" she asked predictably.
"His plane went down near Hamburg. They searched for him for months, but…I suppose no one comes home from war."
Ada nodded. She wondered if that was why she'd heard that Randa recruited him from a dive bar in Bangkok before all this started.
"I believe that," she said solemnly. Maybe he read something in her tone, because he looked over at her instead of watching the beautiful sky.
"Is there a story there?" he asked.
She had to hand it to him, he was more perceptive than most.
"My dad did come back," she confessed, "from Japan. I didn't understand that look in his eyes growing up. God knows my mom wasn't going to talk about it. Until one day I pieced it together looking through a few pictures of his old army buddies I'd never seen or met, nor would meet."
She turned her head and found Conrad looking at her more closely now. Those focused blue eyes of his. "Is that why you write?"
She smiled, though it felt a bit forced.
"Started out that way," she acknowledged. "But you were right the first time. A Pulitzer becomes one hell of a motivator."
She sighed deeply, looking over at that wall. She'd seen stale blood coating the other side of it and realized what a savage world they'd entered here, almost untouched by time or civilization, and definitely untouched by war.
Ada pulled out her notebook at let it rest between them.
"This story here, it's more than groundbreaking," she said. "This is my entire career. My New York apartment paid for life, steak and potatoes every day kind of coverage. So why do I feel guilty?"
Conrad's expression told her he knew what she was saying, though he wasn't sure of the answer either.
"If we get back," she started, then corrected herself. "When we get back, what's waiting for you back home?"
Conrad scoffed a little. "You mean an empty apartment in London?"
That was rather honest of him. Though she supposed they'd been doing honesty pretty well tonight.
"Yeah, that does sound grim. No family? Girlfriend? String of girlfriends?" she laughed. "Surely a captain's broken a lot of hearts."
He rolled his eyes. But something made him hesitate. She wondered why she suddenly felt a bit anxious. Did he have a string of girlfriends? Somehow he didn't seem the type to have relationships at all.
"I should see my mother," he said. They way he said it sounded like a confession. Ada had a feeling he hadn't been home in a very long time.
She smiled shoved him lightly on the shoulder. "That, you should."
The next morning, Marlowe paid tribute to his friend Gunpei Akari, who couldn't live to see the day they escaped this island. For all she'd thought this man was a psycho, she now understood that he'd lived a solitary life. Had lost immeasurably, while still managing to hold onto hope. A few tears shed from her eyes when Marlowe became choked with emotion for the friend he was forced to leave behind.
But he took up the man's sword, and they piled onto the boat. It took a few tries, but the boat finally ran. The Iwis congregated along to bank, and Ada could tell they'd come to see them off. Marlowe shared a grateful goodbye with them that almost struck her to tears again, but she managed to hold it at bay as they started floating down the river.
About an hour in, Ada was able to let go of the fear that they'd sink.
"I got a wife. Had a wife? Guess I don't know anymore," Marlowe said. He had a picture from his pocket of a beautiful woman. They'd gotten married right before he deployed, and gave birth to a son a year before he went missing. That was 28 years ago.
That baby was a full-grown man he'd never met, and Ada's heart broke for him.
"Yeah, she definitely thinks you're dead, man," Slivko commented. He was sitting above them on top of the boat's overhang, and Ada glared up as Conrad knocked sharply at the metal underneath the younger man with a sound of reproach.
"I'm just sayin'…"
"You don't know that," Conrad said. He looked back at Marlowe with compassion. "You'd be surprised how long people will wait."
Marlowe shook his head. "Eh, truth is I don't expect them to be waitin'. I'll be fine either way…I just want one last chance to see them. That'd be good enough for me."
Ada didn't know if that was true, but now more than ever, she was determined to make sure his wish came true.
"We're going to get you home," she said. She only realized afterwards that she had no business promising him anything. But maybe hope was what they all needed right now.
No sooner than she'd thought that, Slivko was within range with Packard's unit to communicate with the remaining soldiers. They sent up a flare to see if they really were close by, and lo and behold, they could see the flare go up a few miles away.
So distracted they were celebrating that they didn't see Nieves being carted off by a flying animal until they were too late. Conrad and Slivko took up their guns and aimed, but by now there was a pack of them surrounding Nieves, lifting him far and high into the sun. Ada held her hands over her mouth, and then her eyes as the creatures ripped him apart. His screams echoed in her ears.
"He's gone," Conrad said firmly. "Grab your gear, we have to keep moving. We'll go to shore and meet up with Packard."
"No. Wait, wait, wait!" Brooks exclaimed. "Isn't anyone gunna say anything about—"
"He's gone," Marlowe said. He wore a grim look that reminded Ada that he was a soldier. "He ain't coming back. There's nothing to say."
Ada was still a bit shaken by the time they went ashore and finally met up with Packard and his men. She couldn't even offer a smile to see Slivko reuniting with his brothers in arms. Randa and Brooks shook hands, while Conrad was already convening with Packard to compare notes. Marlowe made a significantly better impression on Packard than Ada had when they'd first met, but even his sunny disposition couldn't be maintained when Packard said he still had a man out waiting for them.
"Wait a second, you've got someone out there?" Conrad asked incredulously.
"Chapman. He's with the down sea stallion, just west of here."
"West?!" Marlowe exclaimed. "We can't go west. That's where those Skull things live!"
Ada perked up at this, dread replacing whatever hopeful feelings she'd woken up with this morning and whatever remnants of terror she'd experienced watching a man literally ripped apart.
"Hey, you're job is finding lost men right?" Packard asked Conrad. Ada watched him mull it over, though she had a feeling of what he was going to decide, and she already didn't like it. Much as she didn't want to leave anyone behind, she very much didn't want to be eaten.
"Okay, sir," Conrad relented. "But if we reach that position and he is not there, we don't send out a search party. We're back here by nightfall, understood? In twenty-four hours we have to be on the other side of this island."
"Roger that. Here you loud and clear," Packard said. Thought Ada watched him with suspicion. He seemed far too peppy, even at the prospect of finding his lost man.
Ada sat heavy on a nearby rock, resting herself for at least a minute before they had to start hiking through the jungle again. Conrad came up next to her and laid down his gun, going to refill his canteen in the river.
"Don't forget to tell me this is a bad idea," he sighed.
"This is a bad fucking idea," she told him.
They were forced to trek over a large, rolling hill that might as well have been a mountain. Then an hour later, they reached a lower valley that plateaued into a noxious arena of death. Bones and larger skeletons marked the graved of Kong's parents, where the Skull Crawlers had killed and devoured them.
Ada knew what mass gravesites looked like, and this surely was one of them. Packard wasn't willing to heed Marlowe's warnings and some of the scientists wary grumbles at the cost of Jack Chapman.
"We can make it," Conrad said. Ada looked over at him and knew he really felt that, and by God she wanted to trust him because at this moment he was the only one she believed in.
They stepped through quietly, slowly, every soldier on high-alert. Ada took one picture before settling it back in her inside jacket pocket along with her notebook. She didn't want it to get damaged…though it probably wouldn't matter if the worst occurred.
Not that she wanted to thing about that too closely.
They were about halfway through the valley when it happened. One flicked cigarette lit up the flammable chemicals of death in the air, creating an explosion that echoed through the valley. Ada froze, hearing unmistakable clicking, animalistic sounds.
"Run!" Marlowe shouted.
Ada shot forward, but Conrad grabbed her arm and led her behind a raised, flat bone sticking out of the ground. Marlowe and Slivko were only a few feet away, hiding behind a similar structure. But there was no time to escape the valley. They'd have to wait them out and hope the Skull Crawlers went back into their hole. She tried to steady her breathing.
Its reptile vocalizations came closer, and Ada dug her nails into the earth when its scream raised the hairs on the back of her arms and brought tears to her eyes with fear.
"I told you this damn place was a no-no," Marlowe muttered.
Then Ada heard a horrible yacking sound, and suddenly vile smelling liquid and partially bloody human skull escaped from what she assumed was the creature's mouth. The skull had a soldier's dog tag hanging from the eye socket.
Jack Chapman.
Ada covered her mouth before she could scream. She shared a look with Conrad, who looked both distressed and solemn.
The creature seemed to move away. That's when both Marlowe and Conrad peeked around the side, the former with his sword, the latter with his gun. When it was quiet enough, they all came out of their hiding places and attempted to move forward.
But they should've given those "crafty bastards" more credit.
Those few of them that managed to survive limped their way to the relative safety of the trees. Ada walked with Conrad, who was supporting a still zoned out Slivko with an arm around him.
"I'm sorry I lost your lighter," Ada whispered coarsely. She'd thrown it to set that bastard Skull Crawler on fire before it could turn its sights on the pair of men.
Conrad glanced at her.
"It's okay. Slivko and I are alive, that's what matters."
Still, she felt guilty nonetheless.
"Now look, Colonel. You may outrank me, but I've been here a hell of a lot longer," Marlowe was up ahead. He sounded like he was about to lose his temper, and it was the same anger Conrad seemed to carry.
"I'm tellin' you, that thing that just shredded us was only the first of 'em. Now we're on their turf, and we need to turn back. Tout suite!"
"Not as long as Chapman's still out there," Packard said stubbornly.
Conrad let go of Slivko long enough to pull a dog chain from his pocket, gravely giving him the news that Chapman was dead. But as Ada suspected, Packard was still hellbent on getting to that crash site. What was on it, he revealed, was weapons. Heavy duty explosives—enough to kill Kong in revenge for the men he'd lost entering this island.
Brooks rightly brought up that taking out Kong would only help the Skull Crawlers flourish, destroying everything in their path. Packard was crazy enough to think they could take them on too, after killing Kong.
"I can't let you do that, Colonel!" Marlowe unsheathed his sword, but he was met by several poised guns in response by Packard's men. Packard didn't need them though. He knocked Marlowe's sword aside with his gun and quite literally kicked him to the ground.
Ada cringed and almost reached to help him, but she stilled at Packard's glare. He refused to listen to Marlowe, and distrusted Brooks and Sans for their hand in lying to them about the island.
"You're going to get us all killed," Ada said, flinching only when Packard aimed his gun at her next. Conrad grabbed her arm and forced her a step back, placing himself in the line of fire instead.
"Not our fight," he said.
"Whose side are you on, Captain?" Packard demanded.
"Okay, Colonel. You'll find your C-Stallion three clicks up that ridge," Conrad said. He held up his hands in surrender. "Now I'm going to take these civilians back to the boat, and we'll wait for you there. All right?"
Ada stared back at Packard's hard eyes. She was sure he hated her. Maybe not who she was as a person, but the idea of her as a journalist. She realized that he was a leader of men who only knew war, and believed in the necessity of war as the end-all-be-all. He couldn't see another way.
She could breathe again when he lifted his gun away from her, turning on his heel as his men followed. Slivko looked back at them with regret, but she didn't fault him for his loyalty to his brothers, or even to Packard.
She followed Conrad away from that deplorable spot, helping up Marlowe as they went.
After a while they stopped while Conrad tracked their route to the river. Outside of the miserable state of their expedition, it was fascinating to watch him work. He'd concluded they were close to the river just by spotting a patch of mushrooms on a fallen log. But he needed to get to higher ground.
Ada was glad he didn't begrudge her instinct to accompany him. She'd decided to trust him, and that meant sticking with him.
Night fell quickly on their way. They found an uphill rockface, and Conrad had claimed it was exactly what they needed. She followed him in climbing it, though at a more sedate pace.
"Don't tell me your fear of heights is kicking in," he called down to her. She smiled wryly, even though she secretly wanted to die.
"No, no," she said lightly. "I'm having a great time."
His voice was calm and encouraging, "Don't look down. Focus on what's in front of you."
She looked up and saw his boot, then the rest of the backside of him. He couldn't see it, but she was smirking.
"What, your ass?"
He laughed in earnest, despite the effort he was making to climb that made it sound a bit breathless.
"That'll do, I suppose."
"How very gentile," she remarked.
"What am I if I don't maintain my British sensibilities?" he retorted.
"What, you're British?" she questioned sarcastically. "Since when?"
Just then, he reached the top before her. He turned around reached out a hand to her, even as sweat poured down from his temples. She smirked at him and slapped her hand in his.
"Keep laughing. We're going to have to climb back down eventually," he said, effectively wiping the smirk off her face.
She peered over the edge of the small cliff they'd just climbed. It had to be at least fifteen feet down, but probably much more. Conrad tugged her along by the hand he still held.
"Come on, don't think about it. Remember why we're here."
Right. That she could do. Though marginally less now that he'd pointed that out.
Even so, they could spot the river from down below. It wound around a collection of tall rock formations, and Conrad said as much that their target was probably around that bend.
Ada snuck out her camera and took a couple shots, pausing only when a great silhouette appeared in her lens. She lowered the camera slowly, her hands shaking, letting it fall to her waist as the strap was around her shoulder.
Kong emerged from the fog, his head just within range on them as they stood on the cliff. Ada stepped back and grabbed Conrad's wrist instinctively. He twisted his hand to grab hers, to steady her. She didn't need to see him to know he was probably freaking out just like she was. He was just a lot better at handling it.
Kong looked down at them with almost curious eyes. She stared right back at him, feeling that connection once more. This time she saw familiarity.
Even as her heart hammered in her chest, she stepped forward. Conrad tensed, but eventually he released her. She raised up a shaking hand and gently touched the ape's nose. His breathing was deep and loud, and steady. Ada didn't realize she was crying silently until she wiped away a tear from her cheek.
Kong eventually backed away and turned from them, moving toward the direction of an explosion just a few short miles away. Packard and his men had definitely reached the crash site.
Conrad grabbed her wrist.
"We have to go."
Once they reached Marlowe and the rest, it didn't take much convincing to have the scientists go back to the boat and wait for them until dawn, while the rest of them decided to try and save Kong.
With Conrad leading the way, they nearly ran the mile or so it took to reach the bay where Packard's explosives already lit the water on fire, bringing Kong down in the process. He had yet to complete the killing blow, Marlowe and Conrad's weapons put them at a stalemate.
"We don't want to fight you, Packard," Conrad said. It was obvious that Slivko didn't want to raise his gun at them, anymore than Conrad wanted to shoot him.
"This thing brought us down, he killed my men!"
"Kong was just defending his territory."
"We are soldiers. We do the dirty work, so our families and our countrymen don't have to be afraid," Packard yelled. "They shouldn't even know a thing like this exists."
"You've lost your mind," Conrad maintained levelly. "Put that detonator down."
"Please!" Ada pleaded. She had tears in her eyes, as she stared back at the colonel. He looked mildly surprised by her outburst, but then he rolled his eyes.
"Bitch, please!" he said dismissively. "Slivko, take her out of there!"
Ada shifted her gaze to Slivko. He looked conflicted as he held his gun. She did her best to smile at him. She didn't think he would kill her, but Packard would, if given the chance.
Slivko's hand tensed, then he shifted his aim at Packard.
"Put it down, sir!"
Ada breathed deeply in relief, especially as the rest of his men's guns lowered.
"Come on," Conrad said. "It's over."
Then the ground shook.
A deep vent appeared in the middle of the bay, where some of the fire from the explosion still raged. The largest monster Ada had ever seen emerged, hissing like a snake and vocalizing with other unearthly sounds, like some archaic alligator with sockets for eyes. She'd seen a version of it before.
"That's the Big One," Marlowe pointed.
"Fall back!" Conrad ordered. "Now!"
Ada didn't need to be told twice. She ran with Slivko and the rest into the cover of the trees. But when a great impact hit the ground, Ada turned and used her camera's zoom lens to see what was happening. She watched Kong rise up from the bank, but he was still weakened. The creature wrestled him to the ground with a clawed foot wedged firmly over Kong's face.
Then she felt a strong arm wrap around her middle and haul her backwards as she yelped.
"Kong's down, let's move!" Conrad said, making sure she was on her feet and had balance before he let her go.
Eventually the seven of them that survived, without Packard, made their way to a break in the forest. They came upon the wide river that led into the sea. There were wrecks of naval and cargo ships, broken and half-emerged from the water. It was a beautiful landscape, as it had clearly been deadly for those who hadn't survived the storm surrounding the island.
"This is the edge of the island," Conrad said. "Ada, get up on those rocks and fire a flare. Dawn is breaking so Brooks should see it. We'll buy you time."
Ada looked up at him in surprise. He was trusting her with a task this big? He nodded at her, so she did the same. Slivko gave her the flare, and she took off running. She could hear the Skull Crawler coming and couldn't help but feel dread, not just for her own sake, but for the others. Cole, Slivko, Mills, Reles, Marlowe, and Conrad.
She managed to find the rock formation he'd been talking about, but it was a hell of a time getting up there. She nearly fell twice, cutting her leg and scraping her hands.
The creature then broke out of the trees, scaring the shit out of her. One misplaced hand then nearly cost her life, but she'd had just enough upper body strength to recover, holding on with the other hand long enough to get purchase on a better crevice.
She would never go rock climbing again.
Looking over her shoulder, Ada watched the Skull Crawler gaining on the men as her heart leapt out of her chest.
But Kong's fist came barreling through, pouncing on it with all the strength of his forefathers. Ada sighed in relief. Tears fell from her cheeks as she kept climbing.
When her hands couldn't grab any more rock, she felt the high-altitude air push her against the rockface. She got to her feet slowly, making her way onto the cliff. She took the flare gun into her shaking hands, pulled back the trigger and shot it straight into the air.
It went up, then sprayed out into red pieces like fireworks. She watched them fall onto the battle raging below.
Kong was amazing. His brawn met the serpent's slippery attacks at almost every turn, but even when he was waylaid by the old metal chains from the decaying ships' anchors, his strength was already starting to break them.
The men below were already reuniting with Brooks and Sans, who thank God had seen the flare. They shot at the creature with the boat's equipped machine gun, courtesy of Marlowe. And it gave Kong enough time to pull free from the chains, and actually use the anchor to slice right into the creature.
He used it like a battering ram. Ada could hardly believe what she was seeing, until that incredible fist swung right into the cliff she was standing on. A scream tore through her throat as she was thrown from the rock and what felt like miles below, into the water.
Conrad watched it as if in slow motion, hearing her scream as she fell. He screamed her name and barely heard his own voice over the thrashing battle, but before he could reach her, Kong scooped her up out of the water and held her in a closed fist.
Conrad's eyes widened, heart falling into his stomach. Could she survive in there?!
He hadn't the time to think on it. He moved to a safer place on the water bank and felt entirely helpless. He could only watch the Skull Crawler advance on Kong, trying to claim what was in his closed hand. Eventually, Kong ripped out its tongue, esophagus, brain an all.
The captain didn't breathe in relief until Kong set down his hand on the shore, not far ahead of him, and gently let Ada slide out onto the sand. He raced to meet them, but Kong was already walking away.
Conrad fell to his knees at the bank and shook her shoulders gently, then held her face in his hands. "Hey, wake up now. Ada—"
She woke suddenly, shooting up to push at his arm, then hold onto him like a lifeline as she threw up droves of briny water. He held her, stroking the back of her neck and supported around her back.
Kong paused before he left, glancing over his shoulder at them both. But Conrad had a feeling he was looking at Ada. She had tears in her eyes, along with the words thank you, and goodbye.
Kong seemed to understand. He turned around and continued on his way, leaving Ada to reach out and slide her arms around Conrad's neck. He embraced her, running a soothing hand along her back as she cried. It felt good to hold her close. It felt right.
The boat came to collect them all too soon, but it didn't take them long to float around the bend. That flair must have caught more than just their own boats attention, because helicopters were coming to meet them.
When they were finally up in the air on a route headed back to civilization, Ada held her notebook in hand. She'd started trying to write notes as soon as they got buckled in, even though the sheets of paper were soaked. After a while she stopped.
"They're going to find out this place," he said. "They always do."
She looked up at him with a ghost of a smile. "Not from us."
With a final, mournful look at her notebook, filled with all the notes she'd already written about this place and this ridiculous story, she held it out the side of the helicopter ready to drop it below.
"Wait!" Conrad reached out and took her wrist, pulling her hand back inside. She looked at him curiously.
"You may want to remember," he said. "In the future."
After a moment, she smiled and let her notebook fall, but on the floor. It landed in the pile her jacket made there, along with her camera that he'd fished out of the sand for her. It left her to air-dry in her gray tank top and pants.
Instead of closing her eyes to sleep, like he thought she would, Ada leaned over and laid her head on his shoulder.
"I'm happy you were here," she said with a sigh. "Ever had New York pizza? You should come try it."
Conrad raised his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, letting her rest against him more comfortably. She sighed again at his warmth.
"I'm still here," he said. Ada smiled, cracking her eyes open to look at him. He touched her chin, raising it to him enough so he could press a kiss to her lips. She responded in kind, moving against his own slowly.
"Wup, here we go," Marlowe commented from the next seat over. Slivko laughed from his seat across from him.
Each new kiss grew a bit deeper, until Conrad finally pulled away to watch her face. It was a bit flushed, but her smile was only slightly cheeky at Marlowe's excessive cheering.
He could get used to that.
Ada didn't see James Conrad again for three months.
Upon getting back to New York, she'd spent days giving her editor Jerry the runaround.
"There was no island, Jerry. We just went around in circles for three days and found next to nothing."
As a result, she'd nearly lost the TIME piece. She'd saved it at the last minute with a piece about soldiers coming home from the war in Vietnam, but without her real creative outlet of getting that piece written, she decided to do just that.
After developing every picture she'd taken, Ada sat down and wrote the entire story, from beginning to end. Even to her, it sounded insane. But it was the truth.
She'd locked it in her desk afterwards, including the pictures. She placed the key next to the only two photos she'd framed: one of all the soldiers on deck of the Athena when they'd just departed (those men deserved to be remembered). And one of their group when it was all over—worse for wear and changed, but alive.
Conrad had the longest arms, so he agreed to take it. Without her stand it was a bit unfocused and off-center, but she didn't care. All of them were in it, and that was enough.
Sipping on a fresh mug of coffee with her sweats on, auburn hair a wild mess of waves around her face, for the first time in a while Ada felt a bit lonely in her one-bedroom apartment. Most of those people in the photo had already called her every once in a while to check in, see how she was doing. Even Marlowe had sent the news that him and his wife had remarried, since he'd been officially proclaimed dead and all. He was even starting to develop a relationship with his son.
But she didn't know anything about the one she wondered about most, with his blue eyes and his sensibilities.
"Damn, Brit," she muttered.
She was almost startled by the knock on her door.
With a hand on her chest to still her beating heart, she set down her mug of coffee. Waited.
Surely only murderers came knocking at eleven at night. That especially felt true when the knock came again, more insistently.
Against her better judgment, she padded over to the door and looked in the peephole. You've gotta be fucking kidding.
She opened the door quickly, and James Conrad was there in all his glory. Fashionable as always in a long black coat, jeans and a blue shirt. He smiled.
"Want to get some pizza?" he asked.
Laughing madly, she pulled him into her apartment and didn't bother with the formalities. She leapt up at him with her embrace, and he caught her, immediately grabbing her thighs to support her wrapping them around his waist.
She grabbed his face and kissed him until they were both breathless, dimly registering that he'd shut and locked the door behind her.
"You couldn't have come when I had real pants on? Or brushed my hair?" she asked against his lips. He chuckled, and his rich voice reverberated in her chest.
"I think I prefer you without pants."
The promise in that made her shiver a bit, and the way he grabbed at her hips on his way to her room.
"You taste like coffee," he admonished. "At nearly midnight?"
"Kiss me first, judge me later."
He did so, aggressively while managing to carry her into her room.
"You could've called," she still reasoned. Even as he dropped her onto the bed and removed said sweatpants. Conrad paused though. He stared down at her with apology and more tender affection.
"I am sorry," he said, holding her cheek and smoothing his thumb across it. She smiled and leaned into his touch. She kept his hand there.
"I went home," Conrad added. She brightened.
"Really? To see your mom?"
He nodded, his smile warming further. "She said I should come see you."
"You told your mom about me?" Ada grinned cheekily. He smirked.
"I told her I had already planned to, but she saw me to the airport herself. Quite adamant, she was."
"I can't imagine why."
"I told her I met someone extraordinary," Conrad said. Looked deep into her eyes as he did. There was so much encompassed in that look, Ada lost her words. She just reached for him, and he held her even closer than before.
"I read your TIME article."
Ada traced patterns across his naked chest, down to his sternum. She giggled when he flinched with ticklishness. It was the last thing she expected from Captain Conrad, but he managed to keep surprising her with everything he said and did.
"Didn't get the cover," she shrugged. "My editor called it a fluff piece."
"You gave soldiers returning from war the respect they deserved," he said. His hand drifted down her lower back as they rested in each other's arms, finally sated and content.
"I'm sure your father was proud," he added. "I know I was."
Ada smiled, even as tears burned her eyes. "He was. Is. And…that's really what matters."
She leaned up and kissed him, both as a thank you and because she could. Conrad stroked her back and bare sides, and lower still.
"James. Do you think we'll ever hear from Monarch again?" she asked. His hands calmed on her for a moment as he considered her question.
Eventually, he shrugged.
"I doubt it."