CHAPTER 33

EASY DAY WAS YESTERDAY

"Why do you look Irish?" Davis asked, looking at Dianna up and down as soon as she walked into the Command room.

"What do you mean?" Dianna wasn't even going to look down to see her outfit, she had just put it on.

"Oh my, that's cute. But Saint Patrick's Day was like, two months ago" one of the Navy interns, Timothy, came closer, with a folder, and gave an unrequested opinion about Dianna's outfit, as he always did with everyone else's outfits.

"What the hell" Dianna was now looking down, annoyed, then she looked up again. "Yesterday you Navy people kept calling me 'espionner', and I was a Russian mobster in Mongolia. And now this. Why does everyone think that I'm anything else other than Uruguayan? Or Austrian? Or American?"

Davis turned to her. She also wondered about that. "Actually you look all of those too. With the right outfit", she gestured, with her hand in a circle motion in front of her.

Nick came closer, because he loved a cluster. "Nice. France always supported James Stuart", he said, looking at Dianna. All of them turned to him, confused. "King James Stuart? King of the Scots? Read, people", Nick stated, indignant that nobody seemed to care about worldwide history.

"Oh, true", Davis looked again at Dianna. "You do look Scottish".

"Huh", Timothy sighed and shook his head. "Still Irish to me. Maybe because of the green, and the dark hair. It's kinda auburn, too, right? Different".

Dianna gave up and just sat on a chair at the Command room. She was not at her best mood, because it was early morning and she barely slept and barely ate.

She couldn't sleep after what Jason said to her, and she kept thinking about his words and how they sounded sincere. But then she remembered how terrible it was of him to just dismiss her sincere confession, and any trust he had on her words, and just assume she was having an affair with another guy. It was only yesterday that she found out about that, and it shattered her, completely. Until then, she felt hurt that, unlike Davis, Jason didn't believe her word, but she never expected that he would think that she could do something so awful to him. She never cheated on anyone, or was the mistress of any guy, and yet Jason truly believed that she was capable of it. It made her sick when she heard him saying that, as if it would make things better, but he actually made everything worse.

She rationally concluded that the explanation he gave her at the restaurant was a valid one. But it still couldn't make up for the five months that he kept hating her, and she, in return, kept thinking fondly of him. He just forgot about her completely, thinking that she was a manipulative bitch, even after all the things he knew about her, and soon after that, he started a serious relationship with a truly manipulative woman.

An insecure woman who kept teasing Dianna, with whom she had no intimacy at all, in front of others, and that kept pressing Jason to be vegetarian, because apparently she was a nutritionist now, too. Dianna couldn't understand why so many men always searched women who kept trying to completely change them. These weren't slight improvements, because they were unnecessary. He wasn't an unhealthy fat guy who had to stop eating meat, and he loved meat. Dianna knew that. Everyone did, it was his third biggest passion, after Bravo and his kids. But the worst of all, is that Natalie was a doctor that slept with a patient and saw no problem in that. And Jason also saw no problem in that. And probably he slept with her long, long before they signed any forms. And yes, he signed forms. He was serious about her. He took her camping with his kids. A role model of a woman, to his eyes. But Dianna was a two-faced cold-hearted bitch to him, for five months. That was so depressing to think.

So Dianna was not just a little, but very grumpy that day, and she really didn't need anyone commenting on her outfit. She wasn't feeling flattered, she felt like they were mocking her, because everyone in that room kept staring at her, so she told them all to just shut up, because she needed to finish analyzing that intel, that would take at least another hour, so she could finally go downstairs at the hotel restaurant and have breakfast, in peace. She even got up earlier than necessary so that she could finish doing everything first, and then take her time downstairs. And go back up only when the crew would gather again, in preparation for the event.

Dianna finally was free to make her way downstairs, and she knew that Jason probably had breakfast earlier, as usual, so she wouldn't see him that morning. She knew she had to see him eventually, but it would be best when she was able to look at him and not feel so many mixed emotions at the same time.

She was walking down the stairs of the hotel, since it was only one floor down and the stairs were circular and grand, which made her feel very chic walking them down, when she looked at her right hand. She debated, that morning, if she should use the ring that Jason gave her, but it would be weirder if she didn't use it, because a few hours ago she implied, to him, that she would. Suddenly, she realized that no, he said that she should keep it, and not use it, and she stopped in the middle of the stairs, trying to remember. Her mind went blank for a second, and she kept staring at her hand.

"Lady Di, William Wallace needs his kilt back" Sonny suddenly teased Dianna, joining all of the scottish and, apparently, british references that he could in one short sentence.

But Dianna had to admit that his teases and nicknames were definitely the best ones, so she turned to face him with a smile. He earned it.

"Well, some people told me that I look Irish" Dianna stated, cockily. She knew that if she couldn't defeat them, or at least shut them up, she had to join them.

"Well, that too, but the scottish one was better" Sonny admitted, muttering, and Dianna chuckled. He always improved her mood.

"Going for breakfast too?" she asked, excited if he could join her.

"Nah, already had it. Need to patroll around the square now for a while" he said, as he walked down the stairs with Dianna. "There was no bacon, Dianna" he stated, stern, alerting her about the terrible breakfast she was about to have.

"Going for breakfast too?" Jason appeared behind them, walking down the stairs, unknowingly repeating what Dianna had just asked Sonny. He was wearing khaki pants, an olive green shirt and brown shoes. He looked wealthy, besides hot.

"Just Lady Di here" Sonny said, pointing at Dianna, but suddenly realizing that his tease wouldn't work unless he said the whole sentence.

Jason stared at him for a second, confused, and Sonny just gave up and walked down the last few steps.

Jason then smiled at Dianna "Good. Let's go then", and walked down the last steps.

"I don't…" Dianna started, feeling awkward about how he was pretending that nothing happened the day before. Jason walked back to her, now with a serious face, looking up to her.

She finished the sentence, looking down at him. "I don't think that's a good idea".

"Why?" Jason sounded confused.

She squirmed a little. "Well… because of, you know, what happened. The fight and everything. 'Fights', actually".

He squinted at her right hand, that was on her chest. "But I thought the fight was over" he stated, still squinting, and only then Dianna realized that he was looking at her rose gold ring on her finger. She quickly brought the hand down, and he smiled at her. The cocky smile.

"Yes, I'm not fighting. But I'm still angry at you. I'm thinking about what you said" and when he continued to smirk at her, she was even angrier, because he wasn't taking her seriously. "Stop it, Jason, seriously. You said you wouldn't ask me to forgive you now. I hope you meant it, and that you won't pressure me".

Jason's smirk vanished, and he had an apologetic expression. "No, I won't. Sorry. I'm just in a good mood, that's all. It's just that I don't see why we can't hang out as friends in the meantime. I'd want to know about your training and any news you might have. I missed talking to you, that's all".

Dianna suddenly felt like a drama queen, because he was right, but she had to keep him on his toes. "You're right. After all, if I can't completely forgive you about what happened, we could still be friends, or at least good colleagues".

Jason swallowed. "Sure, there's that too. So, come on let's go. I only have like 60 mikes before I have to go back up there", he said loudly, distancing himself from her.

"Shhh" Dianna said, gesticulating for Jason to lower his voice and coming closer to him. Then she whispered "Can't you Navy weirdos just talk normal? What if there's a, you know, 'T' around here? And you are saying stuff like 'mikes'? He'd know for sure that you're a Military".

He raised his eyebrows. "Good point" he said, picking a table for them near a window, and looking outside to see if there was any visible shooter or something. It was a habit. He watched her sit down, then he had to tease, while sitting down too.

"I liked the dress".

"Oh, it was horrible. Of course, I hated it. All that water and loud music and people crying around you" Dianna stated, with a disgusted face, when Jason asked what she thought about her training to withstand torture, "But I don't really know how long I could last if I was actually tortured, like, knowing it wasn't a training. I mean, I'd like to know, so I could rationally try to buy me some time" she casually said, holding a piece of her croissant, while Jason, amused, listened, eating his omelette. He missed her unique way of rationalizing things and simplifying them. Sonny was similar to her in that aspect, making jokes about serious stuff and dismissing dramas. Although, Sonny sometimes was extra dramatic about simple things, to compensate. Dianna, on the other hand, was extra dramatic when drunk.

"But if you want to buy some time, all you have to do is keep enduring the torture until you reach your limit. I mean, that's the point of the training, right?"

"Yes, but" she raised one finger of the croissant, "what if there's an ongoing op and you're taken prisoner, then they torture you and all that crap" Jason held a laughter because she was just too casual, "but you know that the op is going to happen in, like three hours. And they'll dismantle that group. And that's pretty much all the information you have from that op. So, you know you need to withstand the three hours, or four perhaps, just to make sure. Then, as you and I know, everybody breaks under torture. So the only reason to keep enduring would be like if you had hope of being rescued. But if they take you to, I don't know, China, you know that's impossible, so isn't it just rational to tell them everything you know after the four hours mark?".

Jason listened attentively, because it was a valid point. Very rational.

"But what if" he came closer, thinking about something she didn't, and feeling really smart now, "the States are talking to your kidnapper to exchange prisoners? Then there's always hope that you could be released, no matter where you were".

She nodded, pensive. "True. But do they do that? Exchange prisoners that were tortured? Isn't it like admitting to a war crime?"

Jason pouted. "Yeah, I don't think they do that. But you should look into it, just in case" he said, hopeless. He really wanted to know that information, it could be useful someday. Hopefully never, of course.

"I will" she smiled at him, drinking her tea and looking out the charming window at the view of the city. And Jason looked at her, and grabbed his phone over the table and took a picture of her watching the view and holding the pretty cup.

"What" Dianna turned when she heard the low sound of the phone camera.

"I didn't know your phone password" he justified, showing her the picture.

"Well, it's very aesthetically pleasing, Hayes" Dianna had to admit. He could be the official photographer of the team. "You could be a war photographer, when your hips will need to be replaced" she teased, making him chuckle.

"Not such a bad idea, actually. A lot of people want me out, now more than ever" he murmured, looking at the picture, and remembering how Captain Lindell was pressing him, and even Natalie kept telling him to 'think about life after operating' and that 'she could only do so much for his health'.

She noticed his mood going down. "Who the hell are those people?", she said annoyed again.

Jason smirked, looking at her again. "Lindell. And other people. When I went to surgery, they didn't know if they would be able to fix the hip completely, and I would be out". His face was serious now.

"I'm sorry I wasn't…" Dianna started, then she stopped. She was going to apologize that she wasn't there for him, but she had nothing to apologize for. "Sorry. That must have been hard. But it's all good now, right?"

He raised his shoulders. "Yeah. I mean, my hip is 100%, but they still insist that I should be thinking about retiring from operating".

"Well, to be honest, it's always good to have a backup plan, in any age or scenario. But if thinking about retiring bothers you so much, then just don't. When the time comes, you'll have no choice and that's it. Or someday you'll get sick of operating, then you decide. There's no need to be stressing out about it now".

Jason smiled. "Yeah. True". He noticed that Natalie wasn't really forcing him so much to retire, at least not for now, but she did keep pressing him to think about that. But he preferred much more Dianna's approach to it. The 'no stress' approach. He didn't know he had that option, because he didn't really think about that. He missed her.

"So, when did you sell the house?" Dianna asked, curious.

"Hum, I put it on the market right before New Year, actually. It was sold, like January 20th I think".

"Fast". Dianna noticed he didn't tell her that he put the house for sale.

"Yes". He nodded. "I was going to tell you about that when we had our date, but that slipped my mind, really. So..." He nodded again, looking out the window.

Dianna sighed. "Well, time to go upstairs", she stood up, and Jason stood up with her, unconsciously touching her lower back to make her walk in front of him.

"Do you think I look Irish in this outfit?" Dianna asked, turning her face to see Jason.

"Yes, you do".

"Sonny and Nick said I look Scottish", she murmured, while walking between the tables.

"That, too".

"I don't understand" Dianna looked down, confused. "Maybe because of the plaid? Because I really love plaid, especially tartan".

"Well, then wear it. It suits you".

Dianna smirked. "I know. Of course I'd still wear it. I just think it's weird how they keep mocking me about my clothing choice".

"They weren't mocking you, Dianna" Jason assured her, as he followed her out of the restaurant and they started to walk up the grand stairs. A lot of people glanced at her while she distractedly made her way, in her dark green tartan fitted dress, that outlined her body and finished just above the knee, with an off-shoulder neckline and sleeves that ended in the middle of her forearms. She wore the same tall black boots as the day before. Dianna's ethereal face had traces of many nationalities and none at the same time, and made everyone wonder from which part of the planet she was from. And her charming and effortless style made her stand out anywhere, whether she liked it or not. But Jason definitely liked it.

"Bring him here" Dianna said on the CIA phone, looking at Davis, after hearing through the Navy comms that Sonny captured one of the tangos.

"Straight into the interrogation room then" The CIA Officer who was supervising the op nodded at Dianna.

"No no, I meant here. This room. Can you continue to work like, calmly, for like two or three minutes while he's here? And keep out of sight anything top secret that he could read from, let's say, this sofa?" she asked, standing next to a brown leather fancy sofa near the entrance of the big room.

"You will bring him here? To the Command room?" the CIA Officer asked, skeptic. She knew who Dianna was, so she was trying to be patient, but she couldn't help it.

"Yes. Do you need to know anything else, for now, other than where the shooters are and how many are them?" Dianna turned to Davis.

Davis was used to Dianna, and missed her way of working, so she joyfully shook her head. "No, that's it. The guys think they might have an idea of the place where one of the shooters is hiding, they have eyes on it now. I'll ask Bravo if they'd like to know something else that is more important or urgent for now.

The CIA Officer watched while Davis grabbed the comms radio.

"One, this is HAVOC. Blackbird needs confirmation if there's something more urgent now that you need to know, besides number of shooters and their location".

"HAVOC, this is One. No, if you guys can find that out for now, it'll be great. Anything else that comes up we'll let you know", Jason's monotone voice casually answered.

The Command room heard Trent on the comms right after that, letting them know that the cars of the dignitaries were approaching the parking in front of the square, so they didn't have much time. "They're approximately eleven mikes out" he said.

Dianna looked out the window, then turned to the CIA Officer. They only had a few minutes until all dignitaries would be standing next to each other in a long line, perfect targets for shooters that perhaps were somewhere CIA and Bravo couldn't cover.

"Look, just give me those three, four minutes now, to try to extract that information from the guy. After that, I'll take my time to find anything else".

Nick stood next to her, nodding to the CIA Officer, but he didn't know her, so he wasn't much help convincing her.

The CIA Officer sighed. "Sure. Come on, do as she said. Take off your screens any TS intel, or minimize it so the guy can't see from the sofa. Of course, if some intel comes up, update us" she made that clear to the interns, and Dianna nodded.

Dianna quickly grabbed the radio. "One, this is HAVOC. Please, in like one or two minutes, if you could say something like 'target acquired' or whatever, I'd appreciate it".

The CIA Officer stood in the middle of the room, confused, while Davis calmly helped the interns to hide top secret intel and Nick walked to the door of the room, opening it a little to talk to another CIA agent who was holding the prisoner, then he closed the door and gave a thumbs up to Dianna, that nodded.

"HAVOC, this is One. Are you sure? We usually say Jackpot, or 'passing something'".

"One, this is HAVOC. Yes, he has to understand what you're saying".

"HAVOC, this is Six. What about 'all targets found and captured'? In case there's more than one shooter"

"Six, this is HAVOC. Sure, great idea, I'll ask you to confirm if the target was found, then you'll say that, ok?"

"HAVOC, this is Six. So can I say it? One may say it wrong"

"Six, this is HAVOC. Yes, you'll say it. Your voice is usually clearer. Now shut up for a second"

"HAVOC, this is Four. The dignitaries are seven mikes out. Just saying. I'll shut up now".

"Four, this is HAVOC. You may update us, no problem".

Dianna looked at everyone in the room. "Ok, now continue doing your business, but like very calmly, as if you already did your job and we're just following up until the whole event is finished, so you're all happy and relaxed when this guy comes in".

They all nodded, and the CIA Officer was really curious. "Should I sit down?" she asked, because she didn't know how to properly behave.

Dianna walked until she was behind Timothy's chair, leaning on it and looking at his screen, and looked at the CIA Officer, "Just stand up next to Davis and talk to her a bit, would ya? Bring him in, Nick", she nodded.

Nick calmly opened the door, and the CIA agent handed the alarmed prisoner to him. "Boss, there's this one, still waiting" he casually said, loudly, to Dianna, who turned her face, still leaning on Timothy's chair, who didn't even turn from his screen.

"Oh, sure, I'll talk to him real quick, sit him there" she pointed at the sofa, and Nick, a bit aggressively, sat him down. The prisoner looked confused, but not really scared.

Dianna sat on the arm of the chair, crossing her legs. "English? Or french" she asked to the prisoner, then he raised his shoulder, not saying anything. She sighed and looked at Nick, both of them bored to death about these burocracies. Nick sat on the other side of the sofa.

The CIA Officer tried to disguise her interest, and watched as Dianna started to talk to the prisoner in french, and after a few seconds, he raised his shoulders again, but then answered something in french, but his french had a heavy accent. The prisoner then looked at Dianna and then to Davis and herself. She looked at Davis, not knowing how to react, because she spoke french but couldn't hear all of their conversation, because the interns kept typing on their computers. Davis just looked back at Dianna and Nick, raising her shoulders, even though the day before she said she didn't speak french.

The CIA Officer turned around, discreetly, to watch Dianna and the prisoner from the corner of her eye, she wanted to learn some tricks too. Dianna then asked something, and the prisoner gave a short answer, and Dianna stood up a bit and looked for the radio, that she left close to the sofa earlier, then she casually stretched her hand and grabbed it, sitting back down.

"Six, this is HAVOC. Can you please confirm if the target was found?" she asked, lazily looking outside the window and tapping her fingers on her leg, while the prisoner attentively heard, trying to disguise his interest.

"HAVOC, this is Six. Yes, all targets found and captured. Easy day".

Dianna nodded, looking at Nick.

"HAVOC, this is One. Confirming, all targets found and captured", Jason said in a monotone and news anchor's voice, and Dianna and Nick glanced at each other and held a laughter. One of the interns was stretching and yawning next to them, and the prisoner saw that, while Davis was joyfully talking to the CIA Officer about where they could have their afternoon coffee that day.

Dianna glanced at the prisoner, and she wasn't sure that he spoke or understood much English.

"Six" she clearly called, for One not to meddle, because Clay spoke perfect french, "this is HAVOC", then she repeated the same question, in clear french, and Clay's voice sounded more seductive and calmer than ever when he clearly repeated that all targets were found and captured, and translated the 'easy day' expression to french, too, making Dianna smile.

Dianna then saw the prisoner look a little more alarmed, and she knew that she couldn't find out, now, the location of possible shooters, but at least she could find out how many were there. The rest was up to Bravo and the CIA, who, according to the CIA Officer, were covering all the areas.

Dianna asked the prisoner again, in french, to give the names of the shooters and anyone who worked with him, because it would spare Dianna a lot of time and effort, she wasn't in a mood, and wanted to find out what each of them was responsible for doing in their group. And the prisoner could get years off his sentence, but the offer would expire the second the first new prisoner was brought in. She reiterated that they'd find out, but she knew that the others might lie about their responsibilities inside the group, and she was mostly interested in that. The prisoner finally sighed, and answered that he only had the first names of them, and knew the responsibilities of three of them, and Dianna quickly but casually asked for him to start from the top, shooters. And he said two names, and said that the other he knew was the 'surveillance guy', and then Dianna turned to Nick. "Hey, take him to the interrogation room and write it all out, film it too. In case he 'forgets' something later. Burocracy, right?" she got up, walking calmly to Davis, with the radio on her hand, and Nick quickly made the prisoner stand up and walked him to the door.

"HAVOC, this is Four. Three mikes until they leave their cars".

Nick shoved the prisoner outside, quickly shutting the door behind him, and immediately Dianna brought the radio to her mouth.

"Bravo, this is HAVOC, there's a second shooter, at least. I repeat, there's a second shooter".

"HAVOC, this is One. Copy", Jason answered, and everyone in the room waited, because probably there was mayhem where the guys were, so they needed to find the second shooter and communicate between themselves.

"HAVOC, this is Four. Two mikes until the dignitaries leave their cars"

"HAVOC, this is One. We got eyes on one shooter".

A few seconds later, Ray's voice appeared.

"HAVOC, this is Two, one shooter is down".

"HAVOC, this is One. Five and Three are making their way to an apartment that faces the square, and Six and Four are changing shooting angles to have sight of a possible location for the second shooter. A window was opened". Everyone looked at each other in the Command room, because the fact that a window was opened didn't really mean much to them, but obviously for the team guys, it did.

The CIA Officer uncovered the map with the location of all CIA agents and Bravo Team operators, and turned to Davis. "That'll leave the south side of the square exposed".

Davis looked back. "He made an executive decision. You'll need to trust him".

"HAVOC, this is One. I'm covering for Six on the south side".

The CIA Officer sighed. All she did so far was trust Bravo Team and all their crew so far. And she had no choice now. She could see from the window the cars of the dignitaries all in a line, and one of the doors of the first car opened. In a matter of two to three minutes, the dignitaries would all be in line, one next to the other, perfect targets for shooters, if they couldn't find the second one.

"HAVOC, this is Six. Second shooter is down".

"HAVOC, this is Three. Confirmed, second shooter is down. We'll check the rest of the building now".

The CIA Officer exhaled, smiling at Davis and Dianna. They would need to wait to see if any other shooter appeared, but apparently these were the only ones, and the entire area was covered now. She could be enjoying a great afternoon tea later on.

"I asked for the best, and they told me it was you guys. They didn't lie, huh" the CIA Officer said, glancing and Davis and Dianna, who were looking proud.

"Yes, we are" Timothy cockily stated, from his chair.

.