"We've been scouting this place for months now, why haven't we made a move yet? The snow's gone, we can attack them easily now," Ian growled at Dale, who leaned against the black granite island opposite him. The mid-May sunlight streaming through the ivy-lined kitchen window was warm and benevolent this year; it had melted all the snow already.
Dale rubbed a hand down his grizzled face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was too early in the morning to talk tactics and organize a full-scale attack. "I know, but we don't even know if it's the right place. Besides, they have that wall…even if we could confirm anything, we couldn't get through. We don't have the firepower, we'd be slaughtered before we can even get through the gate," he pointed out.
After the attack at the small ranch the previous fall, Dale had vowed revenge. Whoever those people were, they had killed his friends, and some of the children of his settlement were left fatherless. They needed to be put down. He had sent Ian, along with a few others, to do scouting trips time and time again, but by winter food was scarce and they needed to focus all efforts on surviving the bitter, cold months.
The good news was that they had found a promising town, the bad news was that they couldn't confirm if it contained their suspects. Spying efforts told them it was called Jackson, and that these people also controlled the dam a mile or so away by the Snake. It was the only large, organized town with horses they could find in the area, and it seemed the most plausible. So come spring, they had resumed their spying, but so far it had been fruitless. If they were to get anything, they needed inside information. Due to the heavily guarded gate, the well-armed inhabitants, and their impeccable sentries and snipers, efforts to take a hostage had proved impossible without raising some kind of alarm. Dale didn't want to risk a guinea pig if he wasn't absolutely sure he had the right place and the right people.
"So we're just going to sit and forget about them? What about the kids they left orphaned, and the wives these bastards left widowed? Don't they deserve some kind of consolation, to know that the men who killed their husbands had been cut down for it?" Ian hissed, trying to keep his voice down. Riley was still sleeping upstairs, and neither wanted to wake her with their arguing.
Dale gave Ian a glare, silently telling him he was getting on his nerves. Ian was intelligent and strategic, but he could be brash and stubborn when frustrated and angry enough. "If we don't want to lose any more fathers, we need to be smart about this. I know you want to go in there guns blazing, but we can't. You know that," he said.
"What are we going to do, then?" the brunet boy crossed his arms.
The black-haired man pinched the bridge of his crooked nose, deep in thought. The answer was obvious: get a hostage, or plant a mole on the inside. Both of those were very difficult things to pull off. Finally he sighed, "We need to get a hostage. Once we do that, we can find out if these are our guys. Now, we know we can't take one from anywhere near the gate without stirring things up. But I've been thinking…"
Ian laced his spidery fingers together, one brown eyebrow raised, indicating for Dale to continue.
"These guys can't survive on hunting alone, their population is too large. They have to have livestock somewhere, like cattle or sheep. If they graze their livestock outside their town, which I bet my right arm they have to, we can find our hostage there," Dale suggested, looking at the younger man for his opinion.
Ian pursed his lips, furrowing his brow. "Makes sense, but…now we have to find these livestock, and that's harder than trying to find a needle in a thousand haystacks. The only reason I can think of as to why we haven't found them before is like what we do here: leave only the ones to be used for breeding next year alive, and butcher the rest for winter," he observed. His sensible side was starting to kick in again.
Dale nodded. "I want to send you out again, and I want Jerry to come with you. He's-"
"-But you know I hate Jerry, and you know what he did! I will not-" Ian interrupted, eyes flashing with loathing.
"Let me finish, boy," Dale snapped, and Ian shut his mouth. He knew better than to get this man angry, "I know you and Jerry hate each other, but he is the second-best sniper we have. He's fast, his work is quiet like yours, and you can both smell danger from a mile away. You may not like each other, but in terms of skills, he's the closest we have to you."
Ian set his jaw, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Rats are always the first to run…" he muttered under his breath, and Dale shot another glare at him. Clearing his throat, Ian quipped through gritted teeth, "Fine. I'll do it. When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow, at dawn. You should be able to get a good day's travel in, and for God's sake, don't do anything stupid. One idiot with a gun is enough," Dale rolled his eyes at Ian's cocky smirk, and he slid off the bar stool to sneak upstairs.
Riley had installed makeshift curtains months ago in her bedroom, which were just thin blankets poked through a steel bar and bolted to the wall. Dale had even patched up the small hole in the hardwood floor by the window. Riley was curled up under the blankets, sleeping soundly in the morning quiet. The sunlight trying to peek through the curtains made them glow orange, casting dimmed, gentle light throughout the bedroom, careful not to wake the sleeping girl.
Ian hovered in the doorway, studying his girlfriend. Her shoulder-length, golden hair fanned out across the pillow, the soft light caressed her features, making her all the more beautiful. Dale had forbid them from exchanging so much as promise rings in the fall, and he hadn't tried since. He wasn't stupid enough to disobey him. As much as he hated to admit it, the man was right. They were too young to be making that type of commitment to each other, especially Riley.
Even if she was old enough, Dale made it clear he doesn't want me as a son-in-law. If he never approves, I don't have a chance in hell, Ian sighed to himself, quietly padding into the room. At least Dale had let them sleep in the same bed again, but even then he was reluctant. Ian had presumed it was because Dale thought he was too old for Riley. But then, after a while and a lot of thinking, he realized something else.
I am too much like my father.
And Ian knew how much Dale hated his father. Even when they were in the Cobras together, they hated each other. Kelly Rowland was always the better one, in skill and otherwise. Still, they worked with each other and some of their comrades, including Ian's mother, to keep the Order running, putting aside their differences for a time until Dale had enough, and left the Order to his mother, and then his father. Even though Kelly Rowland was dead, to have the only surviving member of the Rowland family in his household was almost more than Dale could bear. If his daughter wanted so much as to have one as her fiancé, Dale would probably kill him before he even got the chance to put the ring on her finger.
As much as he wanted to deny it, Dom knew that Dale saw his father in him. It didn't help he was a spitting image of Kelly when he was younger. If he wasn't careful, he would start acting like him, too. Then there would be a real problem.
Dom quietly slipped into Riley's bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he pecked a good morning kiss on her cheek. Riley stirred, smiling a little as her mind resurfaced from the depths of unconsciousness. "What'd you get out of bed so early for, Dom?" Riley asked groggily, blinking the sleep from her eyes.
"Your dad wanted to talk strategy," Ian said, implying with his deadpan voice that it was boring as hell.
Riley set her lips in a grim line, knowing what that meant. "You're going to leave on another scouting trip, aren't you?" she sighed a little, the question more like a statement.
"Yeah…we've got a good plan this time, a different one. It has a better chance of working, and it should keep us alive," Dom reassured her, and then his tone grew sarcastic, "Jerry is coming with me, of all people. Your dad wants a quiet hostage kidnapping, but I'll probably tear his throat out before we even get there."
Riley giggled, her thin frame vibrating a bit. It was short lived, though. "I hate it when you leave…You're gone for an entire week, and I always worry about what might happen to you, or if you'll come back, or-"
The other worries died on her tongue as Ian kissed her into silence, getting her to relax in his arms. She was always tense when she started stressing about things. "I'm going to come back safe and sound, I have all the other times, and I will this time. Everything's going to be fine," Ian reassured her as he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers so she had no choice but to look at him.
Riley turned away, muttering, "You don't know that…"
Ian let an audible breath out, blowing strands of Riley's blonde hair upwards in the process. She was right, there was never a guarantee that he would come back safely. It wouldn't be the first time where he had come back with a couple of gunshot wounds, or half-dead like last fall. But he was the best they had, so he was always put first in the line of fire by Dale. Riley had tried time and time again to stop her father from sending Ian out on the potentially suicidal scouting trips, but he wouldn't have it, and Ian wasn't afraid of going.
"Jerry and I leave tomorrow at dawn," Ian informed her, and he heard a tiny, sad sigh in reply.
A couple of weeks passed since Ellie and Joel arrived in Jackson, and it was peaceful for the most part. There were the odd bandit attacks at the dam, but people tended to stay away from the town's formidable wall. Ellie had even seen Jason fight on horseback once, and he looked more dangerous than anyone with a gun in his Cobra jacket and sword. She couldn't imagine how terrifying it would be to have a whole charge coming at you.
Jason was reluctant to tell Ellie anything more about the Cobras, despite her prodding. He did show her Elena, though, his cavalry sword. He even taught her a couple of moves when she snuck into the barn after dark to watch him train. Jason always seem more uneasy then, and it wasn't hard to figure out why, so Ellie made sure she didn't stay too long.
"What would you do if you ever saw that Cobra friend of yours again?" Ellie queried out of the blue one sunny May morning, helping Jason bathe the horses. She was holding Beauty, the Clydesdale mare, while Jason sprayed water over her with a hose. Shane watched them from the barn doorway.
A small smirk quirked Jason's lips up, but Ellie couldn't tell if it was genuine.
"I'd probably punch him in the face, why?" Jason answered after a moment of deliberation. He picked up a sweat scraper from a nearby bucket, removing the excess water from Beauty's coat.
"That's a nice way to greet someone…" Ellie snorted.
Jason shrugged, "He deserves it. He may have saved my ass a couple of times, but that doesn't mean I like him."
Ellie mimicked him, about to reply, but then Shane got their attention. Ellie and Jason picked their heads up to see a blonde girl about Ellie's age standing beside him. "Is that Hailey?" Ellie queried. She was wearing a gray tank top and cargo shorts, her long hair tied up in a ponytail like hers. Ellie had briefly met her before, but she was too high-energy for her liking. There seemed to be nothing she wasn't super excited about.
"Yeah…"Jason muttered, and he didn't seem happy to see her. Ellie wondered if something had gone on between them, but she kept her mouth shut as she led Beauty along behind her, putting her into a stall as Jason went to chat with Hailey.
Ellie closed the stall door behind her, leaning against it. Hailey seemed wary of Jason, but she wasn't sure if it was because he was that intimidating or because Shane was nearby. Nevertheless, she seemed like she wanted to get out of the barn as soon as possible.
"So…can my friends and I come play wine pong tonight in the hayloft? You can join if you want…" Hailey asked, clasping her hands behind her back and rocking on her toes. It was like a child asking a parent for permission to go hang out with friends.
Jason let out a tired breath, giving her a cold, hard stare that Ellie didn't think she deserved. Or maybe she did, and Ellie didn't know why yet. "As long as you don't make my horses chew broken glass, we shouldn't have a problem," he snapped. Ellie had a feeling it wasn't the first time Hailey had gotten on Jason's bad side.
"We promise not to break any bottles this time, honest! Last time Derek just got a little rowdy, that's all…" Hailey promised, making an ex over her heart. Jason rolled his eyes, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. Hailey squealed happily, and then turned to jog out of the barn. "Ellie, you can come too!" she called over her shoulder, before disappearing around the corner.
"Did they really break bottles in the hayloft?" Ellie queried in disbelief.
Jason nodded, his expression darkening. "Yeah, I spent days picking up all the glass…lucky they picked a spot with no hay, otherwise I would've been really mad," he spat, and then a thoughtful look replaced his annoyed one, "You want to come? They show up after dark, it's not so bad."
"I've never played wine pong…I don't even like wine," Ellie shrugged, remembering the wine, or liquor, or whatever it was Riley had offered her in Winston's tent back in Boston. The stuff tasted awful. It left a dull ache in her heart, and she pushed the memory away before more of them could flood back in.
Jason smirked, "I hate wine, but it feels good to take the edge off sometimes. Dad says I'm too uptight."
"You are! Introduce Ellie to your friends, she'll have a good time!" Shane chuckled, bringing the buckets and sponges back inside.
"They're not my friends, Dad…" Jason drawled, taking the buckets from his father and placing them in the tack room.
Ellie smiled a little herself, grinding the concrete with the ball of her foot. "Sure, I'll come. I have nothing else to do, anyway," she agreed, and even though Jason expertly hid it, she could tell he was glad she had accepted.
A/N: Well, things are starting to heat up now :) Let me know what your predictions are of what will happen with Ian, and what will happen at the party! And yes…wine pong, I know. I just didn't think beer could survive for twenty years, and that at least Jackson didn't have the means of making it anymore :p Wine can survive a lot better than beer in storage, though. Maybe I'll throw some whiskey and vodka in there too…Maybe ;)