Disclaimer: Everything in the Twilight universe belongs to Stephenie Meyer.
AN: As usual, I am indebted to edward-bella-harry-ginny for pre-reading, suggesting, and betaing this chapter. Happy Independence Day in the U.S.!
Recap: After returning from Afghanistan, Bella has barely had time to breathe, much less sleep, as she has had a whirlwind of meetings with her boss Col. Brown, an old friend Danny Bradford, Senator James, Col. McCarty and Edward. She's been chosen to be the "poster girl" for the upcoming defense bill, which may include the veteran's package Bella is currently helping to shape.
When I finally stood at my apartment door turning the key in the lock, I noted I was home about four hours later than I had wanted. I was exhausted. Edward, Col. Brown, Col. McCarty, Mike, and the good senator from South Carolina had conspired to kill me. They were all in on it.
I opened my door, and one step into the hallway the scent of cigarette smoke and cologne surrounded me. Perfect.
Ch. 11. Half-truths
I flicked the light in my hallway, but it did not come on. The only illumination in my apartment was from the hallway behind me and the filtered street light through my living room curtains. I fought the urge to run away. I closed the door behind me and felt the pulsing of my accelerating heartbeat. I could taste the adrenaline. I set down my bag by the door and walked slowly down the hall.
"Major Swan." I recognized Mystery Man's voice at once.
"Yes. It's me."
"We were pleased to see you accepted the position you were offered. What are your new duties?"
"I'm working in a DARPA facility." I didn't like the breathless sound of my voice, but it was hard to get enough air. I realized that I was standing at attention, and I relaxed my stance. This man was not my superior.
"Of course, that's the cover they've given you. What are your actual duties?" I was surprised. He didn't know what I was doing? I had assumed I was chosen to meet Edward and the team specifically. If he didn't know, could I keep him from finding out the truth?
"I'm doing psychiatric evaluations on a team." Surely he knew or could safely guess that much.
"And what have you found out about this team?"
"I don't think anyone poses a threat." This was true.
"Have you evaluated everyone yet?"
"No." In fact, none of my evaluations were complete. I'd had a little distraction known as Afghanistan.
"Who is left that you haven't seen?" Interesting. He seemed to assume that I would label someone as unstable; hence he assumed I hadn't yet met his target. This conclusion strengthened my belief that they were looking for Edward, or someone like him. But they didn't seem to know exactly who or what they were looking for. Danny's conversation came back to me, and I guessed that I wasn't the only one sent fishing. How big was this?
"I haven't seen a list of people." This was also true since there was no written documentation of the team or its activities. I waited for the next question, but the room remained silent. My eyes had adjusted to the low light, and I could barely make out MM's outline against the living room blinds. A stray thought crossed my mind that I needed to have the sofa steam cleaned since he was soaking it in cigarette odor and his putrid cologne.
"Keep your eyes open, Major Swan," Mystery Man finally said. "We are investigating a rogue black ops unit, one with very disturbing capabilities. The person who helps us bring down the unit will be handsomely rewarded."
"Who are you? Who is running this investigation?" I knew it was a long shot that he would answer, but I needed to know. His description of the team hit a little too close to reality, and I was beginning to doubt my gut feelings about McCarty and his motivations. The off-hand manner that Edward had ordered the execution of a foreign national with no trial bubbled up in my head.
"I can't allow you to have that information, Major Swan, but I assure you that it is a matter of utmost importance to our nation's security. We will check in again with you shortly. Now, please retire to your room."
I sat on my bed in the dark and waited until I heard my own front door shut. Then I continued to sit there, tears rolling down my face. Anger and frustration always triggered my tear ducts, and the events of the day had definitely raised my ire. My home had been violated again. And…I was starving. The glow of my iHome clock radio let me know ten minutes had passed. I stumbled to the kitchen and ended up grazing in front of the open refrigerator. Guacamole, chips, carrot sticks, leftover Thai and leftover naan combined for a reflux-inducing repast. I washed dinner down with a diet cola, wedged the front door shut with a chair, took a long hot shower, and resolved that tomorrow would be a better day. It wasn't likely to get worse, right?
Thursday was thankfully better than Wednesday. There was no staff meeting as Col. Brown had been called to a sudden meeting of his own superiors. Mike was more subdued than normal, and Angela and I went for lunch together with no immediate crisis hanging over our heads. Well, as long as I could ignore the crisis hanging over my head.
"What are you having?" Angela asked, settling into our booth and perusing the menu.
"I think I'll have a salad. Last night's dinner seems to be with me still." I patted my stomach tenderly. "I should know better than to eat late on an empty stomach and then go to bed immediately."
"How did the meeting yesterday go?" Angela whispered, leaning across the table. My eyes popped open. How did she know? Then I abruptly realized she wasn't talking about MM or McCarty or Edward.
"Great for Col. Brown, bad for me. Apparently, I'm going to be the poster girl for the defense bill Brown and Sen. James are planning," I whispered back. You never knew who was listening to conversations in this town.
"Don't you mean poster woman? Or poster Major?" asked Angela with fervor.
"I can't explain how…trivialized…I felt after the meeting," I admitted. "They like me, apparently, because I'm young, attractive, and I don't stutter. And I've been commanded, more or less, to attend a party at Senator James' next weekend. He offered up his son for my escort."
"That is disgusting." Angela grimaced. She glanced down at her menu. "I think I'll have a salad, too, but only if you split a basket of fries with me."
"Deal." At that opportune moment, the waiter arrived and took our orders. After he left, Angela dropped the $64,000 question.
"So, if you're not going with the senator's son, who are you going to take with you?" I sighed. It's not like I had much choice.
"I have this friend from back home. He and I always cover for each other in these situations, starting back in our junior year of high school." I hadn't called him yet, but I knew he'd come through for me.
"He'll fly from Washington state to DC just to take you out? That sounds serious," Angela commented.
"We tried that once, but it was weird for both of us," I told her. Angela looked at me with raised eyebrows. Reluctantly, I added to my summary. "We did the relationship thing for about three months in college, and then gave up. There really isn't much more to say. We care about each other, but we're not cut out to love each other. I'll try to get him to come to lunch with us if he can fit it in his schedule."
"What's his name?"
"Ben Cheney. He writes code or manages code-writers for one of those multi-player online game thingies. He tried to get me involved, but it never worked for me. I was using real guns in ROTC, and I didn't feel like doing the fake thing in my time off, you know? Oh, and now he's like mega-rich. Stock options or something."
That night at home, I spent an hour on the treadmill and ate a balanced dinner. After my shower, I sat on my bed staring at Ben's number on my phone. If this didn't work, I didn't know what I was going to do. I hit send.
"Hello? Bell-leia?" Ben's voice was bright with enthusiasm.
"Hi, Obi-Wan!"
"Now that's a name I haven't heard since, oh, before you were born," he responded. I could see his face-splitting grin.
"Help me, you're my only hope. And I really mean it this time."
"What's up, Major Problem?" I really missed him.
"I'm required to attend a party sponsored by a senator, and I have to have a date. Please tell me you can visit next weekend," I begged.
"Really? A senator? No problem! The company will totally give me time off. They can't pay, but they'd love to have me there. It's like I'm stuck on Tatooine but I'm headed for Corusant."
"Thanks, Ben. You're my hero," I teased, but with sincerity.
"Yeah. So, how are things?" he asked.
"Okay. You?"
"Eh. You remember Marla?"
"The redheaded one?"
"Right. The redhead who didn't recognize 'Face it tiger, you just hit the jackpot.'"
"How could I forget," I laughed. Last time we had talked, Ben had been outraged that any redhead would be ignorant of MaryJane's famous line to Peter Parker. That had been just before my move to DC. I had guessed then that she wasn't going to be "the one."
"We've had the full life-cycle of dating. She dumped me about a week ago," he stated.
"You don't sound upset?" I probed.
"Nah. If she hadn't done it, I would have gotten around to it eventually," he said. "It's that inertia thing I have. I wanted her gone, but I kept hoping she'd just vanish on her own. And that's sorta how it happened, just with more yelling."
"Bummer," I commiserated. "No news here," or at least none I could share. "Can I email you details about the party? Do you need me to make the travel arrangements?"
"No way. I've got an administrative assistant who can do that with both hands tied behind her back and a blindfold."
"Geez, Obi-wan. I didn't know how kinky you were."
"Shut it, Princess Bell-leia. Don't think I've forgotten your golden, metallic bikini." He'd bought it for me one Halloween, in the middle of our attempt to be a couple. I'd ended up wearing the full-body flowing white robes instead, but the tiny metal costume was still in my closet for some reason.
"Um, I never wore that, if you'll recall. You're mixing me up with the real Princess Leia. Seriously, thanks for this, Ben."
"I'm looking forward to it. Don't forget to email me. And you could come visit here every once in a while."
"You know why I don't," I told him.
"Yeah, I know. I miss you, that's all."
"You're the only one," I told him honestly.
"What? You don't think Lauren misses you? I actually ran into her the other day. She was with Conner, or she probably wouldn't have said hello. She is exactly the same, except I think she has more plastic parts."
"Nice. Don't send her my love, okay?"
"Okay," he chuckled. "See you soon."
"Bye."
I put up my phone and lay down on the bed. Talking to Ben had been just what I needed. Now all I had to do was spend my weekend working with an undocumented special ops team. No problem.
Okay. Minor problem. I was in Col. McCarty's office, sitting in a chair, while McCarty and Edward both loomed over me. Edward was between me and the firmly shut office door, and McCarty was leaning over his desk.
"You didn't think this was important?" McCarty fumed. He glanced at Edward with a black look, and Edward's return look oozed annoyance.
"Of course I knew it was important that some stranger was breaking into my house and intimidating me," I shot back. "I knew it was important that I was given a secret assignment to work with a special ops team. I had no idea which one of you was 'good guys' and which one was 'bad guys.'" I waved wildly at McCarty when I said "good guys" and at the wall opposite Edward when I said "bad guys."
"You went on a mission with us and didn't know whether you trusted us?" asked Edward. Well, it was more like he was spitting words at me. For some reason, it really hurt that he was this disgusted with me.
"What was I supposed to do? There was no one I could talk to. I had signed a nondisclosure agreement to work with the team, but this mystery guy was telling me you were a rogue outfit, and a good patriot would feed the information about you back to good forces in the government. I still can't prove that he's wrong and you're right, but I know I find him distasteful and I…I don't know…I believe in your motivations." The end of my impromptu speech trailed away, and I felt the heat of embarrassment flush my cheeks.
"Thank you for your confidence," Col. McCarty responded with sarcasm. "Unfortunately, it is likely that your residence is compromised. We don't know if they've been monitoring your activities. What have you said or done in your apartment which may have tipped them off to our team?"
"Nothing I can think of," I answered slowly, trying to remember any recent conversations. "I've only been on the phone with my mom, my old roommate, and a friend from Washington state, and I didn't say anything of real consequence to any of them. I don't talk to myself, at least, not out loud. I may have talked in my sleep, but I don't know what I would have said then, do I?"
"Enough, Major," Col. McCarty said in a warning tone.
"I get that you're both angry, but what would have had me do?" I demanded with a slap on the desk. "And it's pretty clear that neither one of you is surprised by this development." I didn't mean for that last sentence to slip out, although it was definitely true. Sudden realization sparked in my brain, and I whipped my gaze from McCarty's face to Edward's, and back again. They both looked slightly guilty. "You knew this was a possibility, that someone would target me to spy on you." I went from defensive to angry in 0.3 seconds. I could feel the tears starting to prick my eyes – I really did not want to lose it now in front of these two. "Thanks for the warning. I've been living with this hanging over me, and you knew all about it."
"No, we didn't know. We just suspected," Edward cut in. "The unilateral request for special ops team psych evaluations seemed a little fishy." He backed away from me a bit, leaning back into the corner of the small office, and Col. McCarty sat down behind his desk. The colonel looked stressed, and I imagined I was red-faced and sweaty. Edward looked like he was a lounging male model dressed as a soldier. He even had that pouty look that male models usually seem to have. Why aren't they allowed to smile in magazine photos? We all took a moment to calm down.
"I interviewed twelve candidates for the psychologist. We couldn't be sure if you were a plant or if we were being paranoid," Col. McCarty admitted.
"So. Am I really here for evaluations, or were you just testing me?" I thought of all my abandoned patients in Hampton.
"Testing isn't the right word," hedged McCarty. "We were suspicious. You're squeaky clean with no attachments outside the military."
"You're perfect for recruitment," agreed Edward.
"Why isn't Major Heinz in this meeting?" I asked. "He's on the command team." I watched as the two men gave each other questioning glances, and I had the distinct impression they were communicating silently.
"Jason's a straight arrow. He doesn't do well with the cloak and dagger politicking that is part and parcel of running this team," McCarty finally answered. "It was my decision to limit knowledge about possible attacks on the team. You're only the third one privy to this discussion, and it's only because you're already mixed up in it. Edward, I want her apartment swept, ASAP. Get into civvies and take a car and the major."
"Yes, sir." Edward ushered me out of the colonel's office.
Within the hour, the car with opaque windows dropped us off in a corner of the parking garage. I was wearing some of Shannon's clothes since I had nothing civilian at the facility, and Edward was in jeans, a black t-shirt, denim jacket, Ray-bans, and a baseball cap. I couldn't deny that he was stunning. Edward grasped my hand and led me on an odd circuit, apparently avoiding the surveillance cameras, to reach the elevator area. When we arrived, he fiddled with his baseball cap, and urged me into the stairwell. He pulled out a phone.
"Entering the stairwell now," he said quietly into the phone. He glanced at me as he put it away, although I couldn't see his eyes through the dark glasses. "Shannon's disabling the security cameras. They might be surveilling your building."
When we reached the third floor, Edward alerted Shannon again. I hadn't realized the building security was so extensive. We had walked about halfway to my door when he stopped me.
"Someone's in your apartment," he murmured, his head leaning in toward my ear. He appeared to be listening. "It's a woman." I shook my head in confusion. "Go ahead and open the door." He took off his sunglasses. I unlocked the door, and when I opened it, Jessica was standing on the other side.
"Oh my god! I didn't expect you were here! I figured you were doing that new weekend thing. I–" Jessica cut off abruptly, I presumed when she caught sight of Edward. "Oh, um, hi." Her face broke out into her "I'm a cute girl" smile.
"Yeah, Jessica Stanley, this is Edward, uh, Masen." I sensed Edward freezing beside me, and a sideways glance showed he was clenching his jaw. "Edward, Jessica is my roommate from Hampton." What was his problem?
"Jessica, very nice to meet you." Another glance showed Edward had regained control, and he was charming Jessica's socks off with a wide grin and his intense eyes. I wondered if her socks were all that was going to come off.
"Okay, um, can we come all the way in, Jess?" We were still stuck in the hallway, as Jessica appeared to have lost her sense of reality. And I thought I'd had it bad when I met Edward. At least he wasn't roaring at her like he'd done to me.
"Oh! Of course, come in. I didn't call because it was such a spur of the moment thing, but I thought I'd surprise Mike with a night out, and you'd left me a key in case I wanted to do an evening in DC, so here I am." Jessica's monologue cut off.
"How much longer are you going to be here? Are you picking Mike up?" I noted that Jessica was already dressed to go out. She looked great, actually, and I mentioned that.
"Actually, I've got to go. Call me, okay?" Jessica gave a head gesture toward Edward, who was currently looking at one of my bookshelves. She made a pantomime of dialing a phone and wiggled her eyebrows. "Nice to meet you, Edward." He turned around and gave her a wide grin, and Jessica's eyes glazed over.
"Nice to meet you as well." I half expected him to approach and kiss her hand or something, but he stayed where he was. Jessica's face fell a bit, but she waved and exited the apartment.
I shook my head at Jessica's antics, and turned to face Edward, but before I could move, I found myself pressed against the wall. Edward had one cold hand on my throat, and the other around my wrists. He was completely enraged. I was so surprised that I didn't have time to be afraid.
"What made you call me Edward Masen?" he hissed between gritted teeth. I watched in shock as his eyes darkened from pale butterscotch to a harsh black. His nostrils flared. I knew he hated my smell – every time we were in close proximity his disgust was quite evident. My surprise was replaced by a towering anger.
"Let me go, dammit. What are you doing?" I wasn't yelling yet, but I would be soon. His body was pressed hard enough against me that I couldn't even fight back with a groin kick. His powerful physicality was intoxicating, as was his scent, and I got madder as a consequence of having noticed it.
"Tell me, now!" he demanded again. I wasn't afraid. Even in rage, I could tell he was controlled. I was restrained, but not in pain. I pulled my arms against his restraining hold and found his grip was immovable.
"First, you let me go. You have no right to manhandle me this way." I yanked harder, and he reluctantly let me go. I glared at him for a moment. It did not escape me that Jessica got the charm and a smile and I got yelling and the kung fu grip. "It was the first name that came to mind. Dr. Masen was the emergency room doctor when I was in high school. I saw him a lot, actually. I went to school with his kids, too." I did not mention that the name "Masen" came to mind so quickly because, until I met Edward, I thought Dr. Masen was the handsomest man I had ever seen in person. He sure was a lot nicer than Edward. I renewed my glare.
"What makes you associate me with your ER doctor?" asked Edward. I thought I detected a note of suspicion in his voice.
"I don't know," I fibbed. I was not about to tell God's gift to Jessica that I thought he was hot. "Maybe because we spent the better part of a day in an ambulance together?"
"I usually use Rogers for a surname. I thought you knew that." He glanced down to see me chafing my wrists. "Did I...did I hurt you?"
"Not exactly. I'll be fine." I'd probably bruise a little, but that wasn't unusual for me. "I forgot about using Rogers. That's what you used at the nursing home," I said in an apologetic tone. Something was really wrong with his reaction to the name "Masen," but I doubted I would get a straight answer out of him.
"I'm sorry if I hurt you. I have to work very hard to protect my identity. I think you understand why, especially now," he capitulated.
"Wait, aren't you worried?" I waved my hands around the apartment and tried to mime "listening" to indicate the possibility of bugs. Edward watched me with a raised eyebrow, which morphed into an amused smirk when he realized the meaning behind my gesticulations.
"I already scanned," he answered, pulling a device out of his pocket. "There's nothing in this room. I can usually sense them, too. The chips have a slight odor, and the electrical use makes a faint vibration."
"Faint vibration?" I asked.
"Faint for me. I don't think you could hear it. Let's scan the rest of the apartment." He fiddled with the device in his hand and headed down the hallway. "What room is this?" he asked, his hand hovering over a door knob.
"That's the linen closet. The next door is the bathroom, and the last door is my bedroom." Edward briefly scanned the closet, and then moved on to the bathroom. I noticed he took several deep breaths there.
"Wait here in the hall, please," he instructed as he headed into my bedroom. I suddenly couldn't remember what state I'd left it in, but I flushed a bit as I remembered the unmade bed and that the tank and shorts I'd worn last night were on the floor between the bed and my door to the bathroom. And my panties. I disregarded Edward's request and followed him quickly into my bedroom hoping I could kick the clothes under the bed before he noticed. Edward stopped suddenly, and turned to face me. "In the hall, please."
"Why?" I asked with some defiance. Edward grabbed my arm and dragged me back out of the bedroom. He glared at me for a moment in the hall then looked down at the floor.
"You know I have heightened senses, and your room smells very strongly of your scent," he answered softly but so quickly I had to strain to catch every word. "It will be…simpler if you wait here."
"I'm sorry," I responded sadly, and he looked up at me in surprise. "I know you find my smell unpleasant." Edward's appearance of surprise turned to wild disbelief.
"Unpleasant? Quite the contrary. But in either case, it is very distracting." He looked at me sternly. "Stay here. Please." He stepped around me into my room. My mind reeled. He didn't find me unpleasant? I could find no other explanation for his violent reactions toward me. You don't respond to a pleasant odor by screaming at someone. In the end, I decided he was sparing my feelings, or else he was mildly bipolar. I'd have to look into that.
After a minute or two, Edward returned with a shrug. "Nothing on the scanner, and nothing I could sense. I'm actually surprised there wasn't anything here. Now, I think I caught an odd scent in the living room, and I'd like to get a fix on your mystery visitor."
"Mystery Man," I said under my breath.
"Mystery Man, eh? Very catchy," he smiled, turning back to look at me. He stood in the center of the living room, and I hovered in the hall entrance. Edward wandered to the couch. "He sits here, is that right?"
"Yes."
"I'm surprised you can't smell this. It's very strong."
"Cigarettes and an odd cologne," I answered. "I want to steam clean. The smell makes me feel dirty." I was shocked yet again, when Edward materialized in a puff of air in front of me.
"What do you mean? Has he done anything to you?" He was angry again, or perhaps just fierce. His emotional turmoil was giving me mental whiplash.
"You mean beyond violating my home multiple times?" I asked, my voice rising. "It's upsetting. I should be able to believe I'm safe here. Now I know there isn't anywhere safe. I mean, he's left me things in my Pentagon office." I started shaking. Some of it was the fear, some of it the frustration, and a bit was edging toward anger that I was showing any weakness in front of Edward.
"Shh. Stop," Edward said, his voice slightly panicked. He pushed me over to the smelly couch. "Sit. I'll get you some water." I could tell he was completely out of his element, despite his medical training.
I settled onto the couch, absently picking up the newspaper from the seat beside me. I noticed it fluttered since my hands were still shaking, and I forced them to hold it steady. I hadn't had time to read it before heading out in the morning, but a shoe sale ad was circled on the back of the local section. I guessed Jessica had looked over the paper while she had waited for her date. Just above the ad, a tiny briefs headline caught my eye. "Virginia Professor Dies in Hit and Run" was the headline. The paragraph was about Dr. Daniel Bradford, psychologist.
AN2: ebhg and I auctioned off a one-shot in the Masen and Swan series to belli486 for the Fandom Gives Back, so we'll be working on that in the near future. Congrats belli486! I hope we can make it worth your while!
The Cold War has been nominated in the Vampies (twificpics dot com slash vampawards) for "Evil Always Wins…Because Good is Dumb" (Best Volturi/Nomads). There are a few other stories in that category which I would vote for before TCW (i.e., philadelphic's La Canzone della Bella Cigna), so definitely a case where it's an honor to be in that company. Voting begins July 11. In other categories, Justine Lark and Elise Shaw are up for awards they surely deserve.
I made a blog, originally to record some of the Soldier X facts in one place, although I threw some TCW/AoA and Masen and Swan on there as well, along with teasers). It's at gleena34 dot blogspot dot com (listed as my homepage on the ff profile). Someone told me you need to register to see it, but I think I fixed that? I also made a twitter account, but I'm really not sure why. I'm gleena34 there as well.