Chapter One: To the Station
Disclaimer: Same as before...
Somewhere over the Pacific
June 7, 2003,1450
Enroute to Honolulu, HI
United States
By some odd coincidence Lindsay Moretti found herself seated beside Henry Tresckow. Henry had the window seat and she had the aisle seat, and with all the attendant hazards of an aisle seat, such as beverage carts.
"Ouch," Lindsay said as for the second time in this flight a beverage cart banged into her left arm.
"Are you alright?" Henry asked as he looked up from the Nook e-reader he was holding in his hands.
"I'm fine," Lindsay replied, rubbing her elbow, before turning back to her own book. He noticed she was quite tucked into A Room With A View by E.M. Forster, and so he tucked into his own reading.
It was another half hour later the attendant hazard of beverage cart struck once more. "Ow."
"I do think we should switch seats," Henry replied, "If I hear you go like that again I'm likely to think the lady pushing the cart broke your arm."
"That really isn't necessary," Lindsay replied.
"Look, if you think this is some bloody ploy to get in your pants I assure you, it isn't," Henry replied.
"Oh, so if trying to sleep with me isn't why you're being such a nice guy, what are your motives, exactly?" Lindsay replied.
"Do I have to go into detail about such minutiae? After all, couldn't it be in the distinct realm of possibility that I am in fact a gentleman and a nice sort of bloke to boot," Henry countered.
"Based on what I've seen you are a gentleman, but I also noticed you didn't answer my question," Lindsay replied.
"Well, it is a complex answer," Henry replied as he closed his Nook, noting that Lindsay put a bookmark into her book, "And since we're basically a captive audience of each other for the duration of this flight, I'm assuming you'd like the complex answer."
"Try me," Lindsay said.
"Well, first off, I was raised to be a gentleman by my father. Any time I failed to open a door for a lady I'd get a whack in the back of the head with the flat of a hand," Henry replied, "And second, and an obviously less altruistic reason, I'd rather not have you yelping in pain whenever the woman with the beverage cart comes past, tends to disturb both of our reading."
"Point taken," Lindsay said, and undid her seatbelt, standing up and stepping into the aisle, taking a step back.
Henry scooped up his e-reader and stepped into the aisle and with a flourish of the hand and a smile said, "Ladies first."
"Thank you," Lindsay said, before taking a window seat she stole a glance out at the featureless blue waters of the Pacific Ocean before going back to her book.
Henry took his own seat, reading from his own e-Reader. Presently he had to get up to use the restroom. As he did so the flight attendant that had been pushing the cart and had accidentally hit Lindsay's arm three times walked over.
"Oh I'm so sorry about that," she said as she knelt beside the seat.
"It's ok. No harm was done," Lindsay said with a small smile.
"I don't mean to be nosy," the flight attendant, whose nametag read Cathy, asked, "But that was really sweet of your husband to switch seats. How long have you guys been married?"
"Oh, we're not married," Lindsay replied.
Cathy's face took a somewhat awkward expression, "Engaged? Dating? Casual..."
"We're not involved at all," Lindsay replied, "We literally just met yesterday, we're going to be working together."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Cathy said, "I could have sworn you two were married by the way you two were just bantering back and forth."
Cathy stood up and said, "Well, have a good flight."
"Thanks," Lindsay replied, and then breathed to herself, "Awkward."
Henry returned from the lavatory just then and took his seat, "What was that all about?"
"Evidently the flight attendant who liked hitting me in the arm with the baggage cart seems to think we're married," Lindsay replied.
"Huh, what gave her that idea?" Henry asked, buckling his seatbelt.
"To her we sound like a married couple when we talk," Lindsay replied. Not to mention the fact that you let me switch seats with you, in fact insisting on the matter. That was awfully kind.
"Well I could go through how she arrived at that conclusion," Henry offered.
"Please don't," Lindsay replied.
"Right," Henry replied, "However Lindsay Tresckow has a nice ring to it."
With a wry smile Lindsay replied, "I think hyphenation is the way to go, personally."
"Although I do think Lindsay Tresckow-Moretti has a nice ring to it."
Lindsay countered, "Henry Moretti-Tresckow sounds even better."
"Touché," Henry replied, before going back to his own book. Presently he yawned and shut his eyes.
Cranborne Barracks
29 September 1991, 0600
Outside of Salisbury, Rhodesia
Trooper Henry Tresckow held the AK-47 to his shoulder as he moved at the forefront of his four man patrol, or brick as it was called in SAS slang. The early morning chill scarcely felt due to having been moving.
Grateful for the olive green headband across his forehead, always good to keep sweat from stinging his eyes. Flicking the safety downward slowly so that the safety catch disengaging wouldn't be too loud. Sound would give them away. Stepping slowly and carefully so as not to make too much noise. Breathing slowly.
A plastic human silhouette target popped up about ten meters in front.
"Contact front! Contact front!" Henry shouted as he fired a short burst from the AK, about 5 rounds, then turned and ran. He expected to hear his mate, Corporal Colin Frith, firing another short burst and then follow on the run, a drill called shoot-and-scoot.
What the Hell? He thought while glancing over his shoulder as Colin emptied an entire magazine from his own AK into the target, reload a second magazine and start running forward.
Colin turned around and bellowed, "What the hell are you doing?"
"We weren't taught to do it like that in Selection," Henry replied, jogging back towards Colin.
Meanwhile Lance Corporal Pete 'Pistol Pete' Cole and Trooper Eddie Baynes, the other two, more experienced men in the brick, had also put a magazine apiece into the target.
"Forget about that shit," Pistol Pete remarked as he jogged over.
"Every Squadron does it differently, so does every Troop," Colin explained, "And in B-Troop we move forward, take the fight to the enemy. It's the last thing he expects from a small patrol and his surprise can be exploited."
"Plus you don't know if any of these terrs is hopped up on anything," Pistol Pete added. Many of the Rhodesian soldiers called the terrorists 'terrs' for short.
Eddie interjected, "Best to sort him out with a long burst."
Henry nodded and Colin continued, "Right, let's do that again."
After the second run through that course Henry, like his mates, was decimating targets and running forward and reloading. He didn't know that action would save his life not even a month later just across the Mozambican border.
Suspected ZANLA Camp
29 October 1991, 0550
Near Chioco, Mozambique
"Contact Front! Contact Front!" Henry shouted as a Zimbabwe African National Liberation Army insurgent, or ZANLA for short, stood up. The insurgent's AK at the ready as the sound of the Rhodesian fighter-bomber flying overhead had awakened him. The insurgent didn't even get a chance to level his weapon as Henry reflexively emptied his magazine into him, before unloading the empty magazine, tucking down his shirt and reloading another one.
More shooting as the surprised ZANLA men reacted to the sudden SAS raid on their encampment that had been preceded by the fighter-bomber overhead dropping two bombs into the small compound.
Almost as soon as it had happened the attack had concluded. Surprise had quickly overtaken the ZANLA, who hadn't expected to encounter any Rhodesian forces within Mozambique's safety.
The unit moved amongst the shattered remains of the camp, looking for documents, communications equipment, or anything else of intelligence value. Henry stepped over the corpse of the man he had killed earlier in the battle.
Man? No, a bloody boy just like him, not even out his teens probably younger than his own nineteen years. The youth's eyes were still wide and open, face frozen in that same surprise he had when he had raised his own rifle. Bullet holes riddled the lad's torso and neck, with even two rounds having shattered the jaw. He'd just killed someone possibly younger than he. He noticed the rubber band around the lad's arm, and the syringe full of God knows what he had shot into his veins. Soberly realizing that Pistol Pete had been right, had he not given the insurgent damn near the entire magazine the hopped up ZANLA bloke might have offed him.
Best not think of it now. Henry thought. God help me, I was only nineteen.
Somewhere Over the Pacific Ocean
7 June 2003, 1600
Enroute to Honolulu, HI
United States
Henry sat up to a start, remembering that eleven year old memory, feeling a tap on the shoulder.
"Jumpy much?" Lindsay said, "We've got a form to fill out from customs for Hawaii."
"Thanks," Henry said, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and reaching into his shirt pocket for a pen, one of two he kept there.
"Why someone, if they were hypothetically carrying anything illegal, would admit something on these things I don't know," Lindsay commented.
"Well gives the bureaucrats something to do," Henry quipped, "Or might catch the odd wanker every now and again. There are honest to God idiots out there."
"That's also true," Lindsay said with a smile as she filled out her own form. She had noticed that Henry had woken up suddenly and mentally filed that jumpy reaction away.
No wonder he's so jumpy. Lindsay thought. He survived the Battle of the Line, one of the largest battles on the African continent. And before that he fought in Rhodesia's counterinsurgency against the ZIRPA, ZANLA, and ZANU organizations who Cobra decided to help some years later.
She noticed the South African passport he was referring to for his passport number and mulled to herself. I can't imagine what it's like to fight for a country, have it invaded, and then some treaty says your nation no longer exists.
Lindsay knew that Treaty of London declared that Rhodesia was now Zimbabwe which meant a lot of former Rhodesian nationals now reside in South Africa.
Henry did notice the glance his way regarding his passport. From his impressions since the previous evening's meeting he was damned certain that Lindsay was one of the three CIA types ACME Headquarters at San Francisco had briefed him he would be working with. She was friendly, but there was something guarded about her, and the fact that she had commented on his poor tradecraft over the SAS lapel pin definitely were giveaways to him that she was one of the three CIA officers he would be working alongside for the duration of this assignment.
The rest of the flight passed uneventfully, both of them tucked in their respective reads, with Lindsay lightly napping near the end of the flight. Presently it was time to land in Honolulu. Henry gently nudged her and found himself yet again looking into those blue-green eyes of hers as she stirred awake.
"Landing soon. Best return the seat upright and all," Henry said.
"Just getting comfortable too," Lindsay ruefully replied.
Lihue International Airport
June 7, 2003, 1930
Lihue, HI
United States
Wendy Pleakley and Cobra Bubbles stood at the baggage claim with Pleakley holding a piece of cardboard with the words: Lindsay and Henry Tresckow.
"I think you might want to change that sign, Pleakley," Cobra remarked.
"Why, aren't their names Lindsay and Henry?"
"They are," Cobra said, "But the fact that you put Lindsay and Henry Tresckow on the sign says that they're married when they're not."
"Oh...heh heh. My mistake," Pleakley said, "Anyone can make that. What was Lindsay's last name again?"
"Moretti," Cobra said, "Spell that M-O-R-E-T-T-I."
"Oh, ok, thanks," Pleakley said and turned the sign around and started writing, saying, "M-O-R-E-T-T-I...there."
Pleakley held up the sign and Cobra said, "That still says that they're married. And the sign is upside down."
"What?" Pleakley said, staring at the sign which now read Lindsay and Henry Tresckow-Moretti.
"Couples here sometimes hyphenate their names as a sign of both husband and wife being equal partners," Cobra explained and out of the corner of his eyes he saw Lindsay Moretti and Henry Tresckow around the same time that they saw him and Pleakley.
He could hear snippets of their conversation as they walked closer.
"That must be our reception," Lindsay began.
"Hah, told you that Tresckow-Moretti had a nicer ring to it," Henry quipped at the sign Pleakley had hastily turned upright.
"Did I miss something?" Cobra asked, "Did you two get married in transit to Hawaii?"
Lindsay looked up at the massive African American in a black suit, with the gold earrings, black sunglasses and the black tie with a blue streak at a diagonal in the middle of it. She briefly gave Henry an 'I'll get you for this later' look. After all the Agency didn't quite take kindly to its officers marrying foreigners without vetting.
"No, we didn't," Lindsay said, looking into the dark sunglasses of her fellow officer, "That was just a running joke we had on the flight."
"About married names?" Cobra replied, looking straight at both of them.
"Funny story behind that," Henry interjected, "Evidently we got mistaken for a married couple on the flight."
"Could be a useful thing if I ever have to send you two undercover," Cobra said, "Sorry about Pleakley's confusion, but he's not from around here, you understand."
"Right," Henry replied. The CIA had in fact sent ACME some information about the assignment here in Hawaii and its entailing visitors from well out of town.
Both Henry and Lindsay glanced at one another, the same thought on their minds: Some expert on planet Earth.
Henry and Lindsay headed back for the baggage carousel, with Henry having grabbed a baggage cart and presently they had their bags and taking them back to the car parked outside.
"It will be almost an hour to get to Kokaua Town," Cobra remarked, "I do hope you're both hungry. Dinner should be ready by the time we get to the Pelekai household."
"Should?" Lindsay asked.
"Let's just say Nani is many things but a contender for Gordon Ramsey's job she isn't," Cobra remarked.
"She invited David over and he volunteered to help cook," Pleakley supplied from the front seat.
"Good," Cobra remarked, "And Jumba?"
"He volunteered to help," Pleakley replied.
"Oh no," Cobra groaned, resisting the urge to shove the accelerator into the floorboards of the car, "I hope the house is still standing."
"How much trouble could cooking for a dinner party be?" Henry asked.
"With some families you never know," Lindsay said, with a wry grin, glancing over at him.
Pelekai Residence
June 7, 2003, 2035
Kokaua Town, HI
United States
"Hmm, that smells good...yeah," Nani said as she walked into the kitchen and gave David a light kiss on the lips.
David smiled back and kissed his girlfriend lightly.
"Ahem…" Stitch could be heard behind them.
"Uhm, there are kids here," Lilo quipped as she walked into the room as well.
Quickly Nani and David let go of each other, embarrassed smiles on their faces. "Uh, caught red handed?" David said.
"You could say that," Lilo replied, holding up the phone, "Cobra should be here soon...which is good, because I'm hungry."
"I know, Lilo, but we have guests and they flew a long way," Nani replied.
"From the mainland?" Lilo asked.
"That's right," Nani replied, smiling and walking over to her baby sister and kissing her forehead.
"Yuck," Lilo said.
"Didn't one of them come from South Africa?" David asked, "The blond guy, Chuckles, said that."
"Oh yeah," Nani replied.
"I hope they get here soon. I'm hungry," Lilo remarked.
Stitch said, "Me too…"
"When are you not hungry, Stitch?" David joked.
"Where's Jumba?" Nani asked, changing the subject.
"He's in the garage dismantling the RoboTarantula," Lilo said.
"And you left him over there?" Nani asked, an eyebrow raised and her heart racing,"You know what insane things Jumba is capable of creating..."
"He did create Stitch," Lilo protested.
"My point exactly," Nani replied.
David, lightly stirring his beef stew and adding a light pinch of black pepper after giving it a small taste.
Nani's cell phone chimed just then with a text message and she checked it, "Cobra is on his way with our guests."
"Good, I'm hungry," Lilo replied.
"Yeah, me too..." Stitch replied.
"Guys, please keep an eye on Jumba to make sure he doesn't set the garage on fire or something," Nani said.
"Ok," Lilo sighed, "Come on Stitch."
The pair of them headed to the garage that also doubled as Jumba's lab. They of course found Jumba amongst an array of machine parts, wires, and diagrams. On his workbench was RoboTarantula.
"Hmm, it appears that RoboTarantula has software that helps it recognize threats, and thus engage its defense. The 'Wocka. Wocka. Wocka' is a warning in the language of Pleakley's people..." Jumba said, and then went for a soldering iron, "There...one or two connections and..."
"Uhm Jumba," Lilo said.
"Ahem..." Stitch added as the pair walked into the garage, "Nani says dinner is in forty-five minutes when our guests get here."
"Guests? Oh yes, the other two working with Cobra..." Jumba said, "One more adjustment..."
"You didn't take Scrump out of my room and experiment on her again, did you?" Lilo said, pointing to a doll that looked exactly like Scrump.
"No, I didn't. I just made my own version of it, and it actually plays music," Jumba said and flicked a three position switch.
The first switch caused the doll's head to sway side to side like a metronome and an instrumental version of It's a Small World After All began to play.
Stitch started to go nuts and began howling and growling angrily at Jumba.
"Ok, ok, I get your point," Jumba said and flicked the switch to the off position.
"Lilo! Stitch! Jumba! Dinner's ready, our guests are here," Nani shouted from the kitchen.
Jumba and Lilo walked out of the room. Stitch stayed behind long enough to kick the Scrump lookalike, unaware the three position switch had gotten stuck into the third position.
Lilo, Jumba, and Stitch arrived just in time to see Pleakley and Cobra arrive with Henry and Lindsay.
"I hope you two brought your appetites," David said, "Because there's plenty of food for everyone."
"Everyone," Cobra said, "This is Henry Tresckow and Lindsay Moretti."
"Uhm," Lilo said, "But Pleakley's holding up a sign that says Henry and Lindsay Tresckow-Moretti."
"Eh-heheh-heh. Apparently I don't know Earth marital customs the way I think I do..." Pleakley replied.
"You guys are married?" Lilo asked.
"Lilo!" Nani admonished.
"We're not married," Henry began.
"It was a joke that someone carried too far," Lindsay added, blushing as well as glaring at Tresckow.
"As I recall, someone else didn't mind said joke until Pleakley held up the sign," Henry replied.
"And you both have been arguing about that sign all throughout this trip, which makes me want to say the following: Save that for when you actually are married," Cobra Bubbles remarked.
"Wow, you both managed to annoy Cobra in less than a day," Lilo said, "I'm impressed."
"Lilo!" Nani exclaimed with irritation.
"Anyway," Cobra said, "Before I was interrupted, this is Nani Pelekai, David Kawena, Dr. Jumba Jookiba, Lilo, and Stitch."
Lindsay knew about Nani, the young Hawaiian woman of twenty years, from her dossiers, had known about David Kawena, a handsome looking Hawaiian, Dr. Jookiba, the four eyed alien scientist, Lilo the seven year old girl and Stitch, the blue furred alien.
David said, "It's dinnertime, everyone. I made my famous beef stew for everyone to enjoy. I hope you enjoy it."
"Sounds lovely, actually," Henry said, "I'm starving."
"Sounds like you, Lilo and Stitch have bottomless pits for stomachs," Nani observed.
"That would be you as well," Henry remarked to Lindsay.
"I made one complaint after Seattle about airline food. That was mostly about taste," Lindsay countered.
"More like taste and quantity," Henry observed.
"Very funny," Lindsay remarked as they sat down to eat.
As they were eating the Scrump-Clone doll climbed up onto the table and began disco dancing in the center of it.
"Everybody. Come on sound your funky horn," From its internal loudspeaker the music of KC and the Sunshine Band's Funky Horn blared loudly as the doll began John Travolta dancing around the dinner table.
"Chagga, wagga..." Stitch warned, glaring at the doll.
"What is that thing?" Lindsay asked.
"One of Dr. Jookiba's inventions," Chuckles remarked as he walked into the room from outside the house, scanning around and above him.
"Oh, sorry, where are my manners," Chuckles said, "I'm Phillip Provost, but everyone calls me Chuckles."
"Pleased to meet you, Chuckles," Henry replied.
"What are you looking around for?" Lindsay said, grateful that there was something else to pay attention to other than the disco dancing rag doll in the center of the table that was currently singing Shake Your Booty.
"This is gonna sound weird, but y'all ain't seen a mechanical tarantula creeping around here that sings Itsy Bitsy Spider and chants 'Wocka. Wocka. Wocka.' have you?" Chuckles replied.
"No, I haven't," Lindsay said, a quizzical look on her face.
"I can't say that I have," Henry added, equally curious.
"RoboTarantula is currently disassembled on my workbench," Jumba said.
"Jumba tends to invent things a lot," Cobra explained.
"To include disco dancing and singing rag dolls that..." Lindsay began.
Stitch chimed in, "Annoying..."
Then Stitch climbed onto the table and grabbed the rag doll before hurling it into the wall.
"Stitch!" Nani admonished.
"Ha ha ha ha, staying alive, staying alive. Ha ha ha ha Staying aliive..." the rag doll sang and Stitch charged after it and threw it on the ground jumping up and down on it.
As he did so, more disco hits began to play one after another as Stitch was angrily trying to tear the rag doll to pieces.
"Is this normal?" Lindsay asked.
"Yep," Lilo quipped from beside her.
What have I gotten myself into? Lindsay thought.
TBC
A/N: The line: 'God help me I was only nineteen' comes from the 1970s song by the Australian band Redgum.