A/N: I don't own anyone but Alex aka The Major...
Cardinala, Aubrey1207, and nightsinshadow – Welcome aboard!
Sabrialthazar – Yes, who doesn't love the dynamic between Slattery and The Major?!
Wicthbaby300 – Climb aboard!
Mid Atlantic...Present Day...
"The sun's setting," Master Chief approached Alex as she stood on the deck. It was warmer where they sat, still in the line shot of the Vyerni. Goddamn Russians didn't know when to quit. It was a quality both to be admired and reviled.
"Yep," she sighed, refusing to let the Russian vessel slip for her eyeline. "Bressler's getting the .50 caliber ready."
"You didn't tell me you were handy with a sniper's rifle." Hints of amusement crossed his tone. While a splinter of surprise stabbed his mind, it wasn't a total shock.
The narrow smile played along her lips like a ghost; disappearing as fast as it had appeared.
"There was a little prick that had to be put in his place. I'm certain you crossed paths with a few in your time."
"Indeed I have." His way of saying Amen. "Far more than I can recall Major."
She gently chuckled at his testament, finding it hard to imagine such a man as Master Chief getting vulgar or worked up over a lesser ranked service member. But his reserved persona could easily mask similar ideologies.
"I should go see if he has it ready. Wanted to make sure it was in immaculate condition. Who am I to argue with a Marine?"
"They have been a godsend Major. I told you, God has a plan for all of us. They were meant to survive and be there in Nicaragua. Just as you had survived your trials and stand here now."
"Yeah, so you say." She glanced at the railing, absently running a finger over the smooth metallic luster. Her eyes clouded over as she stared blankly over the waters. They had calmed to a glass like quality. "Bastard had it coming. We both agree on that."
"Major," a third voice interrupted. Speaking of the devil. Second Lieutenant Cody Bressler had succeeded in coming up behind the pair. He was clad in standard Marpat fatigues, green of course, with olive drab vest and knee pads. The standard cut hard to see given the darkness of his hair. The light farmer's tan veiled by the twilight. They were an odd looking trio standing along the rail.
"Lieutenant," Master Chief greeted him warmly.
"Master Chief," he reciprocated the greeting. "Major; It's ready." He added a half smile.
"A little payback to our friends. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this." Her lips curved up into a full smile. Not a common sight these days.
"I can only imagine," the older Marine joined them at the railing, coming to stop between the Master Chief and Major. "So let me get this straight: You and the Captain are going to swim ashore to the tiny island, set up shop, take the system out, then take a moonlight swim back."
"Yep," she grinned like a cat that had caught the canary. "But I wouldn't call it anything pleasurable."
"Compared to what you two have in store for Ruskov? There is an element of pleasure being derived from this."
Master Chief chuckled but the smile collapsed from the Major's lips.
"I can't thank you enough for what you did." She awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck keeping her eyes downward. "I-I still don't remember parts of that night. It eludes me. It's like a fog that I can't navigate no matter where I go or how fast I travel."
Master Chief and Bressler shivered at her admission. Perhaps it was best she didn't. Both having the sickening honor of being the few to bear witness to the drug lord's handiwork. Master Chief prayed to God she would never have to relive any second of it. He prayed for her despite her objections. Bressler had taken a more realistic approach. He simply watched. Watched for the signs and behaviors. Eckert too would take silent sentinel when needed; slipping updates to Tom or Bressler if something would arise.
"When an officer is down, it doesn't matter if they're Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Coast Guard, or Air Force. Leave no fallen comrade behind. That son of a bitch was an animal. No, I take that back; an animal doesn't do that."
"Yeah well we're here and he's not." Her eyes narrowed to a set of dangerous slits. "One less asshole the world has to deal with. Now we can focus on the asshole over there," her finger jutted out, directed at the Vyerni. "He's like a cockroach; somehow surviving and reappearing. I wish they had taken him out the first time. But the Captain wanted to try diplomacy which didn't end well. Cost the James two good men."
"Almost five," Master Chief chimed in. "Remember, you and Lieutenants Foster and Green almost didn't make it back." The inclusion of her into the crew made the anxieties alleviate slightly.
"Right," she answered flatly then met the patient gaze of the Marine. "Let's get moving."
Tom watched as Alex slipped into the flotation device. The standard cargo pants and slightly baggy Nathan James shirt clung to her frame which drew attention from more than one person on the ship. The loose sleeves masked the multitude of burns that marred the upper arms and shoulders. She had lost some weight since Nicaragua which inwardly concerned him. If had made an insistence to eat, she would dismiss his worries and resume working in the lab. Even Tex had made a few comments regarding her gaunt face.
"Commodore, I'm no expert but Alex doesn't look too healthy. She looks kind of like a skeleton. You know, sunken cheeks and vacant expression. The Callista Flockhart look does not suit her."
"So, what's the plan?" She finished adjusting the straps and looked expectantly towards him. Indigo crescents aged her features; perhaps as much as 10 years! She continued refusing any pharmaceutical intervention, instead allowing her mind to torment her upon a whim. It was killing him to see her suffer. Why did she continue to insist on this damned penance?
"We swim towards the island, set up the gun, and you take the shot."
"Sounds easy enough." She dropped on the bench. "Hopefully Ruskov won't be smart enough to anticipate our plan of attack. But given our track record..." Head dropped unceremoniously into waiting hands.
"You heard Mike," he dropped alongside her. "He's got us covered." His reassurance was welcome but she couldn't shake the shadow of uncertainty.
"You're, you're right," she shook head faster than she wanted. "Maybe they're liquored up on vodka. You know how Russians LOVE their drink."
"Well let's hope so."
Neither one spoke as an awkward silence settled between them. Alex took a deep breath and heaved a heavy sigh then looked to Tom with heavy eyes.
"I'm sorry," she felt the need to apologize.
"For what?" Tom tilted his head, confused at this sudden and unexpected confession.
"That we haven't found a vaccine yet; that we don't have that Holy Grail in our hands." She parted her hands revealing identical calloused palms. "I can see the disappointment in some. They don't want to say it but it's there."
"Alex," he shook his head. "I put too much on yours and Rachel's shoulders. I expected miracles from you both. It was wrong of me to place such expectations upon either one of you. If anyone it should be me apologizing to you."
"At least we have a lead," she lifted her head up, showing off the glimmer of light shimmering in the fathomless pools. "It's more than what we started with at Gitmo: Nothing. You know, Rachel wasn't too happy about you pulling me away from work. I guess Mike will find a way to placate her."
Tom chuckled at this. Alex felt a burden lifting off her chest. It was rare to see him smile, let alone laugh. The specter of Death had stalked them the entire way; darkening their path in the manifestations of walking dead. He knew about the bottle concealed in the cabin she shared with Rachel. Tom couldn't and wouldn't pass judgment upon her for it as he too divulged in the burning golden amber alongside her in more than one instance.
"Gator said the current will deliver us parallel to shore so we don't have to swim as hard. Coming back is a different matter."
"Hmmm," she nodded thoughtfully. "Good thing we're both strong swimmers. I think our little adventure highlighted that."
"I think you're right," he acquiesced.
"Well, I think Bressler's waiting on us. Better not keep him waiting."
Alex was quietly thankful they were in warmer waters now. Gator had reassured her at least five times the temperature was 75 degrees which meant she wouldn't freeze to death. Mike had shook his head at her but remained tight lipped. After their last expedition he could understand why she would harbor such a distinct reservation.
"Alright," Bressler loaded the gun onto a flat piece of metal they recovered from their last supply run. "Rounds are in the magazine." The case was watertight with a firm but accommodating lining which encased the precious firearm in comfort. Hopefully it would stay. The last thing Alex wanted was to incur any wrath or at the very least a parent style lecture covering the care of a high powered weapon. It would simply exit the opposite ear any phrases or sentences entered.
Bressler issued a final glance over before giving the thumbs up to Miller. "Remember, go slow."
"Got it," the enlisted man, along with Burk, slowly eased the rope over the side. Alex was making her way down the Jacob ladder with Tom following suit. It swayed and smacked the steel hull but it didn't waver their resolve as they trekked further down. The Captain caught a fleeting glimpse of Alex as she held fast, grappling each rung with ease. She was nimble, he would give her that; compared to his larger heavier frame she possessed the grace of a coryphee.
The water was warm; bathtub warm once it saturated the sand cargo pants and cobalt shirt. She estimated it to be about 80 degrees. Her hand palmed the hull, retaining her body close to the James. Tom slipped in, exhaling loudly.
"It's not cold." Alex shook her head teasingly. The slab cut between them, quietly resting upon the water. Tom looked up to see Mike giving the thumbs up.
"After you make the shot, get your asses back in the water. A RHIB will be on standby."
"Roger that," Tom responded and tipped back with the loop curled comfortably in his grasp. Alex waited until he hooked it around his boot and returned forward. "Ready?"
"I've been ready for a long time." He could hear the smile in her voice. It was contagious.
It was a pleasant silence shared between them. The constant slap then splash as the two figures cut through the water played out like a beautiful tune. Tom remembered in his early days of the Navy how he would spend hours swimming; sometimes in the security of a lap pool and others on days when the Atlantic would tolerate the very presence of humans in her berth. Alex kept her focus; suppressing any urge to hold a conversation. Energy was precious; to be reserved for the mission at hand. Her stomach rumbled and she thanked the merciful seas for masking the thunderous roar. While she had been hungry, she couldn't tolerate any food. There was no medical explanation necessary for she knew the reason. Perhaps some nice hot coffee or tea when she returned would quell it; among other things.
"You think the Russians suspect anything?"
Tex questioned Mike who was back on the bridge. The XO had the binoculars glued to his eyes as he observed the larger ship. So far, nothing.
"Ruskov will be on guard. He isn't stupid."
"But he's one arrogant son of a bitch," the former contractor snorted. "He may think he has us in a corner. Probably on another binge with the rest of them. Vodka probably flows more freely than water over there."
"I think they learned their lesson after Gitmo. They'll be watching us."
Bressler remained tense as he stood on the opposite side. His jaw clenched then relaxed as steely gaze darted across the length of the Vyerni.
"We don't have any viable options Cody. It was the Captain who devised the plan. I just happened to be skilled in the fine art of sniping so I volunteered. Look, I've been in worse situations; you know this."
"Yeah I'm painfully aware of this."
"Then trust me on this okay? We have darkness on our side."
"You damn well know that isn't enough."
"I'm one of the few who can use the Barrett. I'm not getting talked out of this."
"Hey LT you alright over there?" The Marine blinked and looked to Tex. An eyebrow was quirked up. "You look about as pissed as a dog shitting tacks over there."
"I'm fine Tex," he realized his posture was rigid which he quickly softened. "I'm just concerned about this whole thing. Last time those two went venturing off the James..."
"Ruskov thought he had the prize." Mike finished.
"Well you know Alex boys: She is one of the most stubborn human beings on this ship." Tex kept rolling. "She's like a Pit Bull, won't let go of the bone or in this case the gun."
"Don't remind me," Mike shook his head. "Don't remind me."
"Well that stubbornness is what kept her and the hope alive. After the lab ordeal, it showed the everyone there was a chance and still is."
Tom was the first to feel the kiss of sand beneath his boots. Alex smiled through the lapping waves and dragged her body upon the shore. The dull roar was a blessing; a congratulations in a salutatory manner. A small grunt followed up with an abrupt thud alerted Tom to Alex having collapsed to her knees. Her hands were gripping the tops of her thighs as she took in a long deep breath. The silvery light of the moon was blocked by his impressive form giving her pause to look up. While she couldn't see the growing worry, Alex could feel its very presence.
"I forgot my land legs," she shrugged. "Oops."
She started to rise but was greeted halfway with a powerful arm encircling her waist. Her own arm wrapped around his narrow one, clutching it precariously until she was able to stand on her own.
"Thanks," she kicked the soft damp grains with the toe of her boot as he released her. "We need to dig a foxhole; one deep enough for me to kneel in. May be best to dig a shallower trench so I can have better aim. We can cover the gun with the metal."
"On it," Tom passed the case over before commandeering the shard. Using it as a makeshift shovel, he found the ground slightly difficult to plow; on account of the water saturating every inch of sand. His body pushed, muscle expanding then contracting as mound after mound of heavy earth was hoisted behind and to the side. Alex busied herself with fetching the two sets of earplugs before taking the pen light out and clenching it firmly between her teeth. With a faint click, the case was highlighted allowing her to flip the case snaps open.
Tom heard the sigh of relief and paused to see her inspecting the three parts. Scope in left hand, barrel in right. Snap, click. The magazine slid into place.
"Come here and see if this will work," Tom hopped out of the pit he had carved. He watched as Alex took his place, inspecting the hole with the tiny beacon. She knelt down then made a box with her right and left hands; the Vyerni centered in her sight.
"Perfect," she nodded. Tom started on the shallower longer trench which he found easier to construct than the main component. The Barrett would fit down in the chasm, covered with the metal as to muffle the muzzle flash and report.
Alex gently placed the Barrett in the trench while he shielded it with the metal.
"Here," she presented a set of ear plugs. "You might want to use these. It's going to get a little loud down here."
He hastily collected and shoved them in each ear. Alex was already dropping back into the hole, adjusting the scope. Wait, which one was the target?! Too many possibilities. Too many wrong targets.
The sudden clasp of a hand caused her heart to halt but her feet shot up beneath her. The brief shot of adrenaline kick started her heart and muscles. Alex didn't hear Tom closing in behind her as her senses were narrowed; trained on the Vyerni and dulling outside interference.
"Jesus," she leaned against the wall and clutched a hand over her chest.
"Sorry," he responded quietly. "Do you know which one?"
Alex shook her head, briefly forgetting they were in the dark. "No, I don't." Chagrin settled in and she was thankful he couldn't see her face starting to burn up from her ignorance.
"Look back through the scope."
Alex resumed her position in the hole.
"Alright."
"Now, see where the bridge and wheel house is?"
"Yep," both were in sight.
"Now, look above the bridge. There should be two large slab looking components."
"I see them." She adjusted the sharpness of the scope, placing the targets in the crosshairs.
"One shot, dead center to each."
"Put your earplugs in," she slammed hers back in. Tom pressed his back in and watched.
"до свидания," she muttered as her finger curled around the trigger and squeezed.
The eruption of flame, electronics, and metal brightened the scope and her eye. How she wished she could've heard the beautiful sound of round into plate. Better than any Rolling Stone track at that instant. She attempted to conjure an image of what it could sound like. Perhaps like it played out in the movies. Where steel whined and screeched as it was bent or contorted into oblong shapes or designs.
Tom was already flipping the sheet off and grabbing her by the shoulders.
"Come on!"
Ruskov was seated in his private quarters; still seething over the loss of the ace he had.
"Damn that Chandler."
He snorted angrily into his drink. Ever since the last time they crossed paths with the James, they lost not only Chandler and Koch, but Doctor Tophet's wife and daughter as well! It would be too soon when they saw that aging decrepit American vessel. Ever since Brazil, it had taken months to make the necessary repairs, which included landing and venturing into dangerous, no HOT, parts of the South American continent in order to hunt and exterminate those damned parasites! This wasn't the Old World any longer. No, it was a NEW one! One that he and those like him would govern. Like the Black Death which erased the established system of feudalism and created a new enlightened age, the Ramses strain was doing just that in this century. The Russian Empire would rise like a phoenix but he would not allow the same mistakes his forefathers had committed to transpire.
He wondered, if the Pushkin was still out there. It had been months since they communicated with the sub and it had been somewhere off the coast of Spain, hoping to replenish supplies and maintain surveillance on the Continent.
"Captain!" One of the officers barged through the door. He was panting hard; sweat glistening his brow as she leaned heavily upon the door for support. Ruskov snapped up, violently jerked from his wanton daydreams and fantasies.
"это лучше иметь важное значение!" His face twisted into a dark deadly snarl.
"Радар и наведения ракет была уничтожена."
It didn't take him any time to come to one conclusion.
"Chandler..."
Alex snapped the case shut, loading it onto the slab with Tom keeping watch for any activity from the Vyerni. Together they sprinted for the breakers with the metal and case between them. It tilted at an angle due to the gross difference in height but the case kept centered, bouncing slight once their bodies collided with the wall of foam.
"How's your shoulder?"
"Fine. But I suspect I may have a bruise tomorrow." Alex waded deeper into the waves, feeling the strength of the water pushing back. Tom lassoed the rope back around his ankle and together they started back for the James. "I'm pretty sure Mike's getting the RHIB deployed right about now."
They padded hard and fast but the currents were against them this time.
To their left, the sparks and glow of the shredded metal, wires, and steel lit up the immediate vicinity like a macabre torch. Alex didn't get any time to take in the results of her calm but deadly aim. By now, Ruskov was on the bridge, ordering one of the Zodiacs out.
Their progress minute, painful as they struggled to keep at an angle towards the James. Tom could hear the increasing pants from his left as his companion's energy depleted faster than they could put distance between them and shoreline. The Atlantic carried on with its tormenting jerks and pulls beneath the surface, invisible hands which hindered them.
To the direction of the Vyerni, a dull roar rapidly dominated the air.
"We have company."
"Imagine that." Alex spat another mouthful of tepid seawater, grimacing at the ridiculous amount of salt that invaded her tongue and throat. It burned against them but that was minor compared to what was speeding their way.
"Where's my RHIB?! Is she in the water?! Please tell me she is!"
Mike paced across the bridge waiting for word. The Marines, led by Bressler, were first to sign up and lend a hand in retrieving the Captain and Major. The instant the sky turned orange and yellow, he was making the call. XO was grateful for the additional hands. The Marines had been nothing short of a miracle from where he stood. Extra eyes, ears, and more importantly fighting power.
"Sir," Granderson hollered over her shoulder. "The Russians have deployed one of their Zodiacs! It's headed straight for the Captain and Major."
"Shit," he cursed loud enough for everyone in the immediate area to hear.
"RHIB is in the water! I repeat, RHIB is in the water!" Foster was the voice of relief. Those words were what he needed for his stressed mind and soul. Now all he could do was stand and watch; watch with bated breath as the blip on the radar zipped across the screen and pray.
"Cavalry's on the way!" Tom spotted the RHIB slicing across the water. His body ached, screaming with the flames of agony as they burned harder with each stroke or kick. He could feel the fibers straining then teeter on the verge of breaking before drawing back and reigniting in a fury.
"Great! Because I'd like to make a complaint to the Captain about this cruise! The recreational activities suck!"
Leave it to Alex to crack a smart ass remark right as the Russians were bearing down on them. But he knew why she did it. Her peripheral vision picked up the Zodiac as it came into the very edge of her left. Suddenly, an explosion of salt, foam and bullets created a water storm around them.
"Shit!" Tom froze and clutched his right arm but didn't waver in his will.
"How bad?!" Alex hollered but continued moving.
"I think it grazed my arm."
"Fucking Ruskov!" Her arm shot out from the water with middle finger jutting proudly from the center. "Up yours you prick!"
Now her anger superseded any initial or lingering fears or anxieties. Adrenaline was pumping hard and fast through their veins as they focused on overriding the undercurrent. The second wind blessed them both as they found strength from the depths.
"SHIT!" Several bullets whizzed by them; one millimeters from Alex's throat. The ripple of air was the only indication. "That was close!"
Green steered the RHIB as Sterling aimed the gun.
"FIRE!" He hollered as loud as he could. His lungs burned with the roar of his command and spray of the seas. The Marine automatically responded with a hail of return fire upon their foe, training the parade of shells on the men determined to eliminate the threat. Green maneuvered the RHIB so it was blocking the Captain and Major from the metallic rain. Sterling never let up on his barrage as the Zodiac had backed off but refused to back down. It turned sharp right, circumventing the RHIB as Sterling swung his body and weapon as one.
"Oh Hell no!" He snarled and resumed fire. "You are NOT getting away that easily!"
Green shifted around, closing in on the pair in the water. He could see through the shimmering light of the moon that the Captain was putting his effort into one arm. The Major was fighting hard for them both.
"Miller!"
Miller was leaning over the side, collecting Alex first. "Major," he grabbed her by the seat of her pants and hoisted her over in one throw. She landed with a groan and thud before panting hard and gulping every breath.
"Captain...bullet..." she spat out. Miller threw the case over then grabbed the Captain's hands. "Sir! You've been hit!"
"I'm fine!" Tom shouted back as Green grabbed his CO by the belt and helped him climb over onto the deck. "It just grazed me."
Alex couldn't move save for the arm collapsed across her eyes. Her heart continued his fevered dance against the sternum, threatening to pummel it at any second. Her mind had disconnected from the situation. The sounds of the RHIB and shouts of the men had blurred and dulled across her ears.
"Major!" Miller was tugging at her torso, leaning her upright against the side. "Major are you alright?!"
She blinked twice. Reality crashed like a train into her senses.
"Fuckers!" Her lips crafted.
"The Major is alright," Tom reassured the trio as her hand shot back up with middle finger displayed once again. "Disregard her actions."
"Aye aye," Miller nodded as Sterling and Green nodded and kept watch for the Russians.
"I think I may have disabled the Zodiac, Sir," Sterling pointed starboard. The acrid stench of smoke wafted across the water, perverting the crisp scent of the sea.
"I think you're right Sterling," Tom grinned. "Good work!"
"Thank you Sir," the younger Marine couldn't but help to grin at his victory. Bressler was gonna love hearing this.
"How's your arm?" Alex pieced a coherent sentence together. She slid across the slick surface of the RHIB until she was seated beside Tom. It was difficult, to say the least, to assess how bad or deep the wound was.
"It's just a flesh wound," he countered.
"Bullshit! You're gonna have Doc Rios get that fixed up. You know what can happen out here to an untreated tissue wound? This coming from a man who spent most of his life on the water and in some of the least sanitary corners of the world."
"You're pulling that card?"
"Damn right I am," he heard the grin cutting in her tone. He felt her hands running over the shredded bits of fabric, ripping them away as to clear the area. Her fingers were careful, calculated as they ran slowly over the unaffected areas. "It's not large thankfully." It didn't hurt, having her touching or messing with the injury. It had to be the adrenaline numbing any pain which otherwise would have surfaced by now. "Probably need a stitch or two."
He was grateful they were in the dark as his good hand had enclosed around hers. Tom needed to feel her, even if it was a discreet but powerful gesture.
"Are you gonna reprimand me for giving the Russians the finger twice? Because I'll argue it was warranted."
Green, Miller, and Sterling attempted to suppress any laugh but failed miserably as their lips expressed what sounded like raspberries.
"No, Major, I didn't see anything." The pressure around her hand tightened.
They remained that way until the burning lights of the James embraced them back.
Translations: до свидания - Goodbye
это лучше иметь важное значение – This better be important
Радар и наведения ракет была уничтожена – The radar and missile guidance has been destroyed