A Start, Duty Calls, A Job & Day 17
Twelve Days After Rescue – Gulfstream Private Jet Inflight to Ottawa – 1930 (7:30 pm)
They had been in the air for nearly four hours now. Winds was resetting his watch to Ottawa time. It currently read 1930 "Hey Mason, 1930 Afghan time is 1100 Ottawa right?"
Mason laughed, Winds sucked at time conversions "Yeah. Gonna be a long day huh. But you need to reset to Yellow Knife time not Ottawa since we are staying with Blondie. It's two hours earlier than Ottawa, or is that later? Anyways I get the wording confused. But either way by the time we get to Yellow Knife it will be 0430 where we started the day but only 1800 at our destination."
Winds did the mental calculations, he would be up for near on thirty-six hours since he had taken the night shift with Blondie last night. And it would only be 6:00 pm when they got there. He groaned "Guess it's no rest for the wicked so to speak."
Mike called back "No worries. Craig and Jack will take first watch at the cabin. You guys look shot to hell. I know you've been waiting for Sam to wake. But Drake says he's still sleeping like a baby and from the looks of him Sam could use all he can get right now. No harm can come to him here. Why don't you all rest a bit?"
Drake immediately kicked back and closed his eyes knowing he should rest while he could. Winds and Mason conferred. The agreed Mike was right. Blondie was safe for the moment. This was a great place and time to get a bit of shut eye. They reclined the soft chairs and closed their eyes.
Winds kept shifting around trying to get into a comfortable position. Mason had grabbed the only available pillow. They had used the others for Blondie. Mason told him to quit groaning about not having the pillow and be happy they weren't lying on the hard metal benches. Winds shot back at him an off color remark but found a comfy position and quit making noise.
Sam thought shit not again, waking up and being confused was really wearing on him. All his instincts told him he was flying but there was no way in hell he could be flying. Things didn't add up.
He was on a soft very comfortable bed. How could he be in a bed and flying? The last he recalled the doctor shone a light into his eyes and it sent him over the edge.
Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. But then he heard the soft drone of a jet engine. He was definitely flying.
As he woke more fully his mind recalled the discussion with the doctor. He must have been travel ready. They must be taking him home.
Then urgent bodily functions made themselves known to him. His bladder was too full, he needed to piss. He shifted on the bed trying to sit up. It hurt. He groaned and settled back a moment to get it under control.
Drake had fallen asleep quickly. Winds and Mason were on the cusp of sleep when they heard a groan. "Winds, shut up already and just go to sleep man" Mason said and he threw a pillow at him.
"Wasn't me, must be Drake" Winds said catching the pillow and putting it behind his head. Mason just lost his pillow Winds smirked; teach him to throw it at me.
Sam heard the exchange between Winds and Mason. He felt a sense of relief and safety hearing their voices. Those two were always near and he had come to rely on that. It was still disconcerting not being able to see and knowing they were near helped calm him.
But right now he really, really had to relieve himself. Sam tried to raise himself up again. The bed was comfy but it was flat and pushing himself upright from a completely prone position hurt a lot. Damned ribs he thought as pain rippled across his chest as he only raised himself half way. He groaned in pain again and lay back down.
Winds heard a groan again. His mind registered who it was. Winds shot out of the chair and was at Blondie's side in a flash. Mason close on his heels.
"Hey Blondie. You okay? Are you in pain?" Winds asked.
Sam opened his eyes. It was completely pitch black. He started to panic until his mind recognized something soft was over his eyes. He reached up and touched it; a sleeping mask. He thought much nicer than the cloth; he could sit up with this on.
His bladder screamed at him and he could not hold out much longer. He didn't want to ask for help but he also didn't want to pee his pants that would be mortifying. Ill at ease asking for help with something so private Sam faintly muttered "Gotta take a leak."
They laughed at him. Great I'm a source of amusement he thought. But in no time they had assisted him to sit and provided him the necessary items to take care of business himself. He would have preferred the bathroom but it was too small for Mason to maneuver him into.
When he was done and resituated on the edge of the bed Mason asked "You Hungry?"
Sam responded "Starving, got anything better than crappy hospital food?"
"Much better. Got several choices for you" Drake listed off all Sam's choices.
Sam heard the new voice. He wondered if Zach was here. He had not heard him yet. But he held off asking to respond to the new voice that he'd like the turkey sandwich option.
"Coming up" Drake said and moved to the galley.
Then Sam asked "Is it dark in here? Can I take the mask off?"
Winds answered "The plane is as dark as we can make it but it's small and some light is coming through the open cockpit making it brighter than your room. Want to chance it?"
Sam nodded and closed his eyes before removing the mask. He slowly opened his eyes bit by bit. It was bearable. Not great but not like it had been. He tried to focus on the face right in front of him. Blurry.
Well at least there was less sensitivity. The doctor would say progress. His ankle started throbbing from hanging down. But he didn't want to lie down. The ribs felt better upright at the moment.
Knowing he was in a small private jet now he asked "Is there a chair I could sit in where I could prop my foot up? Feels better sitting right now except the ankle."
Before he could react he was scooped up and transferred gently to a chair. Christ Mason was huge and strong he thought.
They settled him in and brought him food and drink. Two new men were introduced to him. One of them took his vitals as he scarfed down the sandwich. He asked for another and one was brought to him. He asked for coffee and was flatly denied they brought him orange juice instead.
"Is Zach here?" Sam finally asked.
"No his leave was up and he had to return to base. Wasn't at all happy about having to go. Said to tell you the family, all your cousins are pulling for you to recover quickly. Said he would talk to Laura if you needed help to recover again" Winds told him.
Finishing the last bite of the second sandwich he asked "Who is Laura?"
Winds explained to him that she was his twin cousin Scott's wife and the Commander-in-Chief's daughter. Sam asked what he meant by twin cousin and why Zach would talk to her. Winds laughed as he explained about Scott's and Sam's moms and what Laura had initiated when his lungs were badly damaged. The more he heard about the family and friends of Sam/Blondie the more he wished he could remember them.
More food appeared in front of him and he continued to eat. It was so much better than the hospital crap. Polishing off a third sandwich and a ginger ale he realized his mood was contented and happy. He chalked it up to a full stomach and anticipation that going home would trigger his memory.
And for some reason he felt a great deal of relief just being out of the hospital. He hadn't realized how twisted in knots he had been just being there. But knowing he was not in it felt so good. Sam closed his eyes, leaned his head back and sighed.
Winds and Mason had watched as Blondie downed three sandwiches, an apple, a bag of chips, two orange juices and a ginger ale. It was damned good to see him eat; he had lost so much weight. He always recovered so much better outside of a hospital.
They gave each other a knowing look when they heard Blondie's contented sigh. Each leaned back in their chairs and quietly relaxed a little bit. Hope surged that their little brother was still in there and he would come back to them soon.
Quiet didn't last long, it actually got rather loud and boisterous as the five men laughed and joked around. Conversation started when Sam asked why they were in a private jet instead of a military plane. They told him why and then how they got him out of the hospital and through airport security. He laughed at the description of Mason in the suit.
Sam still didn't recall anything they said about his life. He was glad when conversation shifted away from him and they started to share about their lives. When the talk wasn't all about the Blondie/Sam guy it took the pressure off trying to remember. That alone lifted his spirits.
They conversed, argued good-naturedly and joked about sports, guns, hunting, fishing, race cars, women, movies, the latest news, and old funny stories. It felt good to simply talk and hear about normal things. A few minutes ago he heard the pilot inform someone that they were ninety minutes from their destination.
After what felt like hours the talk finally died down. From the steady, slow, soft breath sounds around him and his fuzzy view of the cabin Sam deduced that the three guys in chairs near him settled back and went to sleep.
In the quiet a little anxiety started to creep in but he quashed it. He was going home. From what they told him he had lots of people that cared. So going home would be a good thing. He was tired now too. It had taken a lot out of him just sitting up for so long.
He tried to push the chair into the reclining position to rest. It took too much effort and pain lanced his ribs again. A strong desire not to admit pain to anyone kept him quiet as he shifted trying to ease the pain and get comfortable sitting upright in the chair. No position was comfortable so he stopped moving and breathed slow and deep to gain control over the pain.
Sam nearly jumped out of his skin when felt someone fiddle with his IV. He hadn't heard anyone approach. The clear but quiet voice of Drake said "Sorry didn't mean to startle you. Just needed to attach the portable pain med pump so you can dose yourself if the pain gets too much to handle."
When Drake was done he put the control button in his hand.
Sam knew Drake moved away but he heard absolutely nothing again. That man had stealth down pat Sam thought. A bit scary he hadn't heard him move, he always heard everything. Somehow he knew, just knew that that was true. He always heard.
It felt good to know a concrete fact about himself. Successive thoughts flashed in his mind. A dark haired man in a room full of blue lockers tried to sneak up on a blonde haired man. The tables were turned and the blonde man scared the shit out of the dark haired man instead. The thoughts stayed. It felt like it might be a real memory but he could not place it.
He wondered if he was the dark haired man or the blonde. Wait, he was the blonde, they kept calling him Blondie. They wouldn't do that if he was dark haired, would they? No probably not. So he was blonde. They felt right somehow. Just like his previous revelation that he always heard.
Two facts he now knew about himself. Sam smiled slightly and sighed. It wasn't much, but it was a start he thought tiredly.
Maybe relaxing and thinking about other things had opened his mind allowing something to filter back. He yawned and yawned again. He silently wished he could lie down again on that comfortable bed but he did not want to wake the others.
Sam hated being dependent and a burden he wanted to be in control and do for himself. When they woke up he might ask but for now he would just deal with it. He smiled again, another fact about himself; he needed to be in control of his life.
A while later he was seriously contemplating crawling back to the bed. That way he wouldn't have to bother anyone. Unable to recline the chair his head kept nodding to his chest.
Each jerky drop of his head elicited pain in his ribs. Sam shifted trying to find a more comfortable position one that did not ache so much. He was not successful. He twisted the wrong way and pain sliced across his chest again. Eyes squeezed tight, jaw clenched to stay quiet he inhaled and exhaled fast and shallow through his nose. He pushed the button.
Quiet rustling and the sound of a leg rest being retracted alerted Sam one of the guys got up from a chair. Breathing still a bit rapid but calming and eyes still shut Sam heard the hushed bass voice of Mason close to his ear.
Mason whispered softly as his huge hand lightly ruffled his hair "Time to go back to bed Sunshine. You should've asked me for help when the pain started. But you've always been a bit too stubborn for your own good. Ready?"
Sam realized Mason must have been watching him instead of sleeping. It sucked not seeing clearly. Sam nodded assent and Mason carefully lifted him.
Mason carried him to the back and effortlessly lowered him to bed. He deftly assisted in positioning him comfortably. It felt good to lie down. Sam opened his eyes and really tried to focus on the face the man. He so wanted to see clearly but there was no change.
Tiredly Sam murmured "Thanks Mason."
Softly again Mason said "No thanks needed Sunshine. We've got your back like you have always had ours."
Sam felt something being pulled across his legs.
Mason continued in the kind, hushed voice "We'll be landing in about forty minutes. Just gonna attach these straps across you to keep you safely in the bed when we land. That way you don't have to move to the chair again." He finished then said "Here, put the mask on too. We have to open the shades for landing."
Mason held out the mask. Sam reached for it and missed. The huge hands clasped around his hand engulfing it as he passed off the mask.
As Sam put it on he thought that this mountain of a man was so gentle, kind and protective. He wondered what he had done to deserve such care from him and Winds. As the pain meds relaxed him and he slipped into sleep he had an image of large and small hands holding.
But the large hands, the protective, caring hands were holding small delicate ones that belonged to a small girl with sparkling eyes and a lovely smile like a little princess. For some reason the image made him feel strong, protective, warm and happy.
The image melted into a backdrop of a swirl of many colors. He was sad when the image of the little girl fluttered away. But the feelings did not fade away. Was another real memory? If so he wondered who the girl was.
Connelly Airport Gate 2 – 1500 (3:00 pm)
Pacing back and forth at gate two General Braddock was in civilian clothes. When he arrived at his office his staff had given him two packages delivered by the courier. He hadn't looked in either package yet but he could tell there was a huge sombrero in one. He chuckled lightly wondered just what memory that one was associated with. God he hoped Sam remembered things soon.
He couldn't wait to see his son. They should be here within the next five minutes. Winds had called to tell them they were on approach about ten minutes ago. He had asked about Samuel and was told he was asleep now but had his appetite back and seemed to be in good humor earlier. That was good news.
His phone rang "Braddock."
["William got your message about the committee member hold out. Sorry to hear she was uncooperative and unswayable. Sorry again, but you are not going to like this call one bit either."
"I got the final results from JAG. That avenue is a no go also, contract stands solid. I also got your request for leave. Normally it wouldn't be a problem. I really hate to do this to you but I have to deny it."
I need you in London for the next week or so. Lieutenant General Hammond was going to attend the conference but I was just informed he's in the hospital. Poor man had a heart attack"
"Sorry but you're the only one with the right knowledge for the conference" the Commander-in-Chief stated.]
General Braddock slumped into a chair. Absolutely nothing was going his way today. Three blows to the gut. All he wanted to do was be with Samuel but duty called.
He sat up his back ram-rod straight and confidently responded "Sir I understand. I spoke with Hammond just yesterday. I'm fully briefed on the issues and conference agenda. When was he scheduled to leave?"
[McFergus truly hated to do this to Braddock. But he had no other options. He liked Sam a lot and he knew he was not doing well from what Braddock had told him. He knew he wanted to be there for his son but he also knew the man had a strong sense of duty and could always be counted on to do what was necessary.
"Hammond's flight is scheduled to leave in three hours. It can be pushed back by two if necessary but any more than that and you will be late to the conference" James replied.]
"No need to push I'll be ready in three. When I'm back from the conference I assume if no other pressing issues arise you will grant the leave" the General stated.
["Absolutely" McFergus answered.]
The General saw the plane pulling up to the gate as he hung up with the Commander-in-Chief. Dammit, just dammit. He just had enough time to go to the plane and check on Samuel.
He needed to go pack his dress uniforms and gather the appropriate files. Security. He needed a security team. He would leave Samuel in the care of his, they were the best and he trusted them implicitly.
He dialed.
["Sutton" Tom answered.]
"Tom, need a security detail of four to accompany me to London. Who do we have available that can be ready to leave in two?"
[He knew about Hammond but he was wondering why Braddock was requesting someone other than Mike so he asked "Sir. What about Mike and his unit?"]
"Currently engaged on a higher priority. Unable to pull him off for the London trip" he responded.
[Higher priority must have something to do with Sam. Unable actually meant unwilling in this case.
"Understood. In country and not assigned at present I have three members of Blaze's unit, Warrant Officer Oscar Halverson (Hal), Master Corporal Russell Kostopoulos (Russ) and Corporal Daniel Weber (Daniel). I also have two rookies from Mason's unit Corporal Stefano Xenos (Apollo) and Corporal Levi Melton (Pawn)."
Sutton went on to describe each soldier's unit roles and skillsets.]
"Assign Hal, Russ, Daniel and Pawn" the General directed. He picked them to give him a well-rounded unit. Hal had pilot and leadership skills. Russ was a marksman. Daniel was a recon specialist. Pawn was medic and tactician.
The General saw the plane door open the Mike and Winds head down the steps. "Tom I have to take care of something before I leave. Need a favor. Would you notify my head of staff to pull the files for the conference, assign two analysts for travel and have him pack my dress uniform, it's in my office at present. I have everything else I need already with me. I'll meet the unit at the airfield."
["Wilco. And Will, Mike will keep Sam safe until you can return" Tom stated.]
"Thanks Tom" he hung up and walked out to meet Mike and Winds on the tarmac.
General Braddock explained the situation, neither was happy but they understood the General would always put duty before personal cares. He handed off Samuel's bag, the sombrero package and two other bags. Mike was so thorough, enroute he had arranged for bags to be packed for Winds and Mason with their civilian clothes and necessary items. He boarded the plane and greeted the other men. They left the plane to give the General privacy using the excuse they needed to stretch their legs.
William sat on the edge of the bed and watched his son sleep. His face looked much better. All the swelling was gone. Only faint bruising still showed.
Samuel looked peaceful sleeping. He didn't want to wake him so refrained from touching him. He saw the duck was still with him, the head was peeking out from under the pillow. He smiled as he remembered watching Samuel sleep as a very little boy clutching his stuffed blue dog.
The General checked his watch, he had to go soon. He said "Get well son. I'll be back as soon as I can. Leaving you in good hands until then. You're gonna have to tell me about that sombrero."
He opened the smaller envelope he had retained. He saw all the small items in it and smiled. That team cared so much for his son.
Shifting things around he found what he was looking for in another small envelope inside. He wasn't sure how it worked for him or if it worked while he was sleeping. But carefully inserted the ear buds and turned on Beauty. Maybe it would help him subconsciously.
He lightly patted Samuel's shoulder "Love you son. Can't wait to have morning coffee with you. Brought the special mugs you got us. See you soon son."
William looked at his watch. He was running late now. He set the envelope on the bed, stood and left the plane.
Fifteen Days After Rescue – London Hotel Room – 2300 (11:00 pm)
Sitting with his feet kicked up on the small table and a computer in his lap General Braddock was waiting for his phone call to be answered. He had just reviewed the latest information on the committee member his analysts had uncovered. Knowing her MO they were beginning to uncover a few things. But he needed more and fast.
["Bonjour."
(Hello) the man on the phone answered.]
"Bonsoir Dom . Il est Will."
(Good evening Dom. It is Will) the General responded.
["Mon ami si bon d'entendre ta voix. Êtes-vous en France à nouveau?"
(My friend so good to hear your voice again. Are you in France again?) Dominique Savoy asked.]
"Pas à Londres. Je me demandais si vous pouviez me répondre demain. Je ai un travail que je pourrais utiliser votre aide."
(No in London. I was wondering if you could meet me tomorrow. I have a job that I could use your help with) William stated.
["Je suis désolé mon ami, je ne peux pas répondre demain. Mais si vous pouviez me donner une idée de ce que vous avez besoin maintenant, je pouvais voir ce que je pouvais organiser."
(I'm sorry my friend I cannot meet tomorrow. But if you could give me an inkling of what you need now I could see what I could arrange) Savoy answered.
Dom was truly interested. It wasn't often but Braddock always had the most interesting things for him to do.]
"Je dois un petit projet qui nécessite votre ensemble de compétences. Besoin d'engager une cible féminine, attirer la cible et recueillir des preuves tangibles des affaires de corruption. Besoin d'identifier le réseau et de déterminer comment profonde ou large de la corruption va. Il est une situation délicate et mon nom ne peut pas être associé d'aucune façon."
(I have a little project that requires your skill set. Need to engage a female target, lure the target in and gather tangible evidence of corrupt dealings. Need to identify the network and determine how deep or wide the corruption goes. It is a delicate situation and my name cannot be associated in any way) William loosely outlined.
["Sonne juste mon truc. Je pourrais prendre des dispositions pour vous rencontrer en trois jours . Serez-vous toujours à Londres, alors?"
(Sounds right up my alley. I could arrange to meet you in three days. Will you still be in London then?) Savoy asked with eagerness in his voice.
The General engaged him when something needed to be off the books. He wished he could get started today but he needed to wrap up his current assignment.]
"Je serai encore à Londres. Nous pouvons répondre à la même pub comme d'habitude. Dites 22h00."
(I'll still be in London. We can meet at the same pub as usual. Say 2200 hours) Braddock suggested.
["Bien bien. Jusque-là, au revoir."
(Good, good. Until then goodbye) Savoy hung up the phone and returned to his current target.
He sauntered over, sat down and poured the wine. She would be an easy target to extract information from. Just a little bit of alcohol and wooing and he would get all he needed from her.]
Seventeen Days After Rescue – Yellow Knife Safe House – 2300 (11:00 pm)
Sam was sitting alone on the porch swing wearing a large sombrero and a hockey jersey. In his right hand he held a plane, a cat, a snake, a spider, a shovel, a boat and a bullet. In his ears was a pair of raggedy earbuds.
The sound was set to a very low volume and he was listening to some pretty strange music. The playlist was eclectic and he could tell who ever put it together put a lot of effort into it. In a small box next to him were several more items. He spent hours each day alternating holding the items hoping for a memory to break through.
"Hey Blondie, it's pretty cold out here and getting kind of late. Sure you don't want to head in?" Mason called from the cabin doorway.
Sam gave him a sullen look that said 'go away and leave me alone'. He snapped out curtly "No" and turned his gaze back to the darkness of the trees in front of the cabin.
He heard the door close. Sam was in a foul, disagreeable and defiant mood today. He needed the quiet of the night, the feel of the cool breeze, the smell of the pines and to be left the hell alone.
When he woke up here five days ago it felt somewhat familiar, but it wasn't home. They explained to him where he was and why. He could understand the reasons but he really wanted to go home and he really wanted coffee.
Physically he was feeling much better. Drake had fitted him with an ankle brace yesterday afternoon and he was now allowed to walk short distances without the crutches. The light sensitivity had lessened significantly. As long as he wore dark wrap-around sunglasses he could handle being in full sunlight. But the blurriness had not really improved. His ribs still hurt but every day they got a bit better.
He was happy to have the IV out. After dinner tonight he had insisted Drake remove it. Drake only agreed when Sam told him he would rip the god damned thing out himself if Drake didn't remove it. Drake agreed but made Sam promise to go two days on scheduled doses of oral pain meds. After that it would be as needed.
Sam reached down and grabbed the bottle of beer he had nicked tonight without his keepers knowing about it. There was something about the sombrero that made him think about beers and scrubbing floors. He opened the beer and took a small sip then placed it out of view again. He really didn't want it; he wished it was coffee instead. Damn Drake.
If he could find the coffee he would make some. But he couldn't find it. They hid it on him after the second time he had tried to make it himself in the middle of the night. He pleaded his case every day. Drake would not budge and the others deferred to Drake's decision. Drake told him caffeine can disrupt sleep and promote anxiety and depression. That Sam needed his sleep and given his current conditions would not risk the other two. Damn Drake.
Determined to find the coffee, late last night he searched again. In his searching he found the beer and considered taking one but his mission was to find coffee. So he left the beer alone and continued searching. It sucked searching essentially blind.
As he was checking the last cabinet Drake scared the crap out of him again. The man was catlike and he never heard him approach. From right behind him Drake chuckled 'just give up, you're not gonna find it until I approve you can have it'.
Drake laughed harder as he spun and struck out at him. He missed him by a mile, not only was Drake silent he was fast, god damned ninja-like. Disgusted with Drake and himself he had hobbled back to bed thoroughly pissed off.
After another night filled with nightmares he woke in a belligerent mood. All day today he chaffed about the situation. He hated feeling like he was being treated like a child.
If he wanted coffee, he damn well should be able to have coffee.
Tonight when all the guys left to do a perimeter check he briefly searched for the coffee again. He had no luck again so he decided to take the beer instead. He didn't really want a beer but it was a form of rebellion against his keepers.
Damn Drake and for that matter damn Mike, Mason, Winds, Craig and Jack. They all sucked for not letting him have coffee. What real harm could one cup do?
Beer hidden in his pocket of his cargo pants he had grabbed the sombrero and his box of items and limped to the porch. When the guys returned from the check he churlishly told them he wanted some time alone.
They all knew he was still in a bad mood so went into the cabin and left him alone on the porch swing. They had checked on him several times in the past two hours but he just kept telling him he wasn't ready to come in. He reached down grabbed the beer again and took a second sip and put it back again.
Drake was sitting quietly near the door. He had come out when Mason opened the door asking if Sam wanted to come in yet. He watched as Sam took a sip of the beer; only his second in two hours. Clearly he really didn't want it. He had seen him covertly take it earlier.
Sam didn't realize he was never left alone; one of the guys always had a visual on him. Sam didn't know he was here now and he had not known he was sitting on the kitchen counter when Sam entered the kitchen earlier. Drake refused to say anything both times because he was tired of scaring the crap out of him.
The last time he did was part of the reason for Sam's surly mood today. Drake was kicking himself mentally all day long. He really shouldn't have laughed when Sam swung at him and missed.
Winds, Mason and Mike made his life hell today because of it. But he figured he fully deserved whatever they meted out to him. Drake felt bad about laughing and tried to apologize multiple times but Sam ignored him completely until he wanted the IV out tonight.
However a larger part of the bad attitude today was that he constantly denied Sam coffee. He had found out just how resourceful Sam was as he tried to fulfill his desire for coffee. Finding a good hiding place had been a real challenge.
Drake hated denying him that but it was more important that he recover. He was not sleeping at night. Sam was plagued by nightmares and nothing seemed to relieve them. The duck did help calm him after but they didn't stop them.
In an effort to restore Sam's mood tonight he decided to let Sam have a few swigs of the beer but not much. He had watched the last few hours and seen him only take two drinks. He didn't really seem to want it. So he finally decided to take it away. He rose from his place on the porch. Instead of speaking he opened the door to alert Sam.
Sam reached for the beer for a third time and was about to take a drink but stopped midway when the door opened again. Crap, can't they just leave him the fuck alone tonight? He waited for the request for him to come inside again.
"So Sam, I see you found the beer. Not allowed to have that either. Hand it over" Drake ordered.
Sam glared in his direction but held out the beer for Drake to take. He didn't really want it anyways. He took off the sombrero and placed it on the ground beside him.
On his way into the cabin Drake said apologetically "Sam I'm truly sorry for laughing last night. I shouldn't have. I promise, when you are sleeping through the night you can have coffee and when you are off the pain meds you can have beer."
Sam completely ignored him.
Drake went inside and closed the door. Inside he dumped the beer down the sink. Then he told Winds that he was on watch now. Drake headed for the surveillance room to check in with Mike.
Sam realized he needed to change his attitude. Mostly he knew Drake was only acting out of concern for his health. He really wasn't sleeping well. The nightmares had changed. It was no longer just eyes. Full images of god awful things, death and pain invaded his sleep.
He saw images of many heads blown apart. Lots of buildings exploding. Men blown to bits stepping on landmines. Red hot needles jabbing into a stomach. A woman shot and bleeding on a roof. A small boy curled in a corner as a grenade rolled towards him. A little girl lying dead with no shoes on. An older man unconscious and bleeding lying on top of a younger man.
None of the images connected. They were just horrible. He woke drenched in sweat and screaming at least once every night. It sucked. He could only guess they were his memories somehow but it was like he was an outside observer as this happened to people unknown. He shivered. He didn't want to think about any of that right now. They would attack his thoughts soon enough.
He forced himself to think of something different. His gaze shifted to his box. His left hand felt around in the box and landed on the zipper bag the cookies came in. Picking it up and unzipping it he inhaled the lingering scent of the cookies. He smiled despite his bad mood. They were delicious. The cookies only lasted a day. He shared them with all the guys, didn't want to but it was the right thing to do. He inhaled again then closed the bag and set it back into the box.
Feeling a bit less truculent his mind wandered to the perfumed card. Wow that one was powerful; it stirred deep emotions of passion and hurt at the same time. The perfumed card elicited feelings and did things to his body that would be embarrassing in front of the others. So it was now tucked under his pillow and only pulled out at night when all was dark. He wished it would evoke an image to go with the feelings but it only brought the feelings.
His mood was improving thinking about the items. So he thought about how Winds had read him the notes and described all the people and details in the pictures. He concentrated very hard trying, craving, begging for something to connect and be a real memory not just something the guys had told him about. To feel and know it was him that remembered. But it never came no matter how many times Winds and Mason described the people in the pictures.
Sam lightly held the items in his hand. Maybe if he narrowed his focus and concentrated on a single item.
He switched the bullet to his left hand and placed the other items in the box. Closing his eyes he fixated on the feel of it in his hand. Long, about two and a half inches. Smooth, cool metal that tapered to a point. In his head it clicked, ammo for a Remi 700. Sam lightly caressed the bullet with his thumb as he thought, deadly in the right hands.
He continued to concentrate on it as Another One Bites The Dust by Queen played in his ears. His mind was assaulted with image after image of a bullet fired hitting a human head. So very many faces then it stuck on one.
Just one face. It did not retreat to the background like the others. It stared at him with blank green eyes. When the song finished he yanked out the ear buds and squeezed the bullet tightly in his left hand.
"Winds" he called out low with a tremor in his voice. "Winds" he said a little louder as his heart started to beat rapidly. Tears blurred his vision even more as he yelled in horror "WINDS."
Winds heard the alarm in Blondie's voice and raced out the door. The kid was shaking. He moved close "Blondie?"
He saw the tight fist. He looked at his face and sucked in a breath. He knew that intense shattered pain. He remembered.
Why did it have to be this one he remembered first? Tears clouded Winds eyes as he shoved the box out of his way and sat next to Blondie then pulled him close wrapping his arms tightly around him. "It's okay Blondie. Let it out. Let it all out kid. I'm here, it's okay."
Gut wrenching anguish saturated his words "It's not okay. I killed him. I killed Matt. I blew him away. There was nothing left of his chest. I killed my brother. I obliterated his heart."
The cries of agony from Sam as he completely broke down experiencing the loss like it was the first time brought the other men running from several directions to the porch.
Mason went to them and knelt in front of Blondie. He wrapped his long arms around both of them.
Mike watched saddened. It was distressing to see someone in that much pain. He knew only two memories would be that dreadful for Sam, he wished the General was here. His men watched worried but unaware of the reason other than Sam had likely remembered something terrible. They all had at least one terrible memory. Mike just looked at them and they knew to head back to their positions and give Sam some privacy.
It was a long time before Sam finally calmed. When Winds felt it was appropriate he queried Sam to see if he remembered more than shooting Matt. Sam only remembered Matt was his best friend, his brother. Matt had created the playlist and that he had killed Matt. No other memories had returned.
Sam sat with his head down completely drained emotionally and physically. His gaze locked on his clenched left hand. This hand had pulled the trigger that killed his best friend. How could he live with himself? Drowning in guilt and grief he said nothing and did not resist as Mason gently picked him up and carried him inside and laid him on the bed.
Winds pulled the duck out from under the pillow and put it in Sam's right hand because he had not released his death grip on the bullet in his left. "Try to sleep Blondie. If you need us we will be right here. We're not going anywhere."
Sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, Winds bowed his head. He let tears slip silently. He would be here for Blondie this time as he came to terms with the pain and guilt of killing Matt. He would be here unlike last time when they all had failed to be there for him.
Mason joined Winds on the floor after turning out the lights, leaving only a small dim lamp on. He had not been there when it happened. Tonight ripped his heart to shreds. He couldn't stand seeing Blondie in pain, emotional or physical. That kid had saved his life more times then he could count.
He leaned his head back on the wall and his hand traced the scars on his face. Then his hand landed on his chest where one large scar was hidden. There were things this kid had done for him he could never repay.
There was one thing he had done to Blondie he would spend a lifetime trying to make amends for. Disturbing memories of when he got these scars sifted into his mind.
It happened seven months after Blondie joined their unit; only three months after Blondie had been injured saving the unit from the booby-trapped building. He nearly killed Blondie that day as the kid saved his life again.
They were heading out for a combined mission with another unit and were in the last Humvee of five. The driver of their Humvee veered slightly more left than all the ones in front of them going down a hill. They hit an IED. Their Humvee flipped and rolled several times finally landing upside down. Some shrapnel had blown through the vehicle. The driver who was from the other unit died instantly.
When he first woke in the hospital his memory was only vague bits and pieces. But he remembered Blondie had crawled to him and tended to the deep gashed wounds to his face. Holding pressure bandages to stem the bleeding. He remembered Blondie pushing his hands away and trying to stop him from yanking out the large piece of metal sticking out from his chest.
He had so much adrenaline pumping through him he didn't feel the pain and just wanted it out. He dimly recalled being pissed Blondie kept stopping him. Adrenaline made him stronger than he already was and it took a lot of effort for Blondie to stop him. Later in the hospital the doctors told him that if he had pulled it out he would have bled out in minutes. He would be dead, his mate saved his life.
Blaze, Winds and Patch were the only ones that visited him the first four days. He kept asking about Blondie but no one would look him in the eyes when they said he would be here when he could.
On the fifth day Matt finally came to see him. He asked Matt where Blondie was. Matt told him he was here but before he came in he wanted Matt to tell him that Blondie didn't hold it against him. Blondie understood it was just the adrenaline and confusion of shock. That bewildered him. What did Blondie not hold against him?
Matt then opened the door and Blondie entered. His arm was in a sling and his face looked like he had gone ten rounds with a heavy-weight boxer with his hands tied behind his back. His face was covered in bruises and his right eye was nearly swollen shut. The white of the left eye was now blood-red. There were deep purple marks on his throat too.
Blondie refused to talk about his injuries when he asked him about them. In fact he refused to talk at all, just patted him on the shoulder and gave him a lopsided grin before he left.
After Blondie left he finally got Matt to tell him all. Blondie had dislocated his shoulder when the Humvee flipped but luckily was not hit by shrapnel. Mason had hit Blondie many times as he tried to keep him from pulling out the metal. Mason had slugged Blondie so hard he had a hairline fracture of the orbital socket of the swollen eye in addition to all the contusions.
Matt hemmed and hawed when he asked about the bruising on Blondie's throat and why Blondie didn't say anything. But he finally told him. Mason had choked Blondie unconscious before finally losing consciousness himself.
The reason Blondie didn't speak was because he had a mild fractured larynx. Blondie had come to visit as soon as they had released him from observation and bedrest. The doctor advised Blondie not speak for several more days in order to calm down the inflammation.
Mason's gaze landed on his huge hands. These hands nearly choked the life right out of Blondie. These hands had beaten the holy living crap out Blondie. All while Blondie saved his life. The occasional gravelly and hoarse sound of Blondie's voice even today was a direct result of these hands.
He owed Blondie more than he could ever repay. Mason looked back to Blondie in the bed. He would do all in his power to help him and care for him. Mason watched as Blondie's eyes finally closed. Please God let him rest, please no nightmares tonight. Please let him find peace quickly.
His prayers went unanswered. That night Mason, Winds and Sam got little rest. Every time Blondie would fall asleep he would wake a short time later from the same nightmare over and over. Mason was considering giving him a sedative but by dawn Blondie was so worn out his body was finally pulled into an exhausted sleep.
Mike had come in the room and told Winds and Mason to go sleep. Both refused to leave the room in case Blondie had another nightmare. Mike spoke to Drake. Drake administered a sedative to Sam then told Mason and Winds to go sleep. Sam would not wake up for hours. Both still refused. Mike returned and tossed the guys pillows and blankets. They laid down on the floor and fell into a light sleep.
When Drake and Mike closed the door to the room Drake asked "Should we contact the General?"
Mike shook his head no "There's nothing the General could do differently than those two. Mason and Winds have it covered. We let them handle Sam. We watch their six. Remove them from the rotation schedule, set it to the same as we had before."
Drake nodded and went to inform Craig and Jack.