“Geez, you guys are a couple of over-achievers.
You’ve been doing this while working as soldiers?”
“We had a lot of downtime when we were stationed
overseas,” David explained. “In between testing the drones, which
worked very well on a couple of the real missions we were involved
in, and interpreting satellite data, we did a lot of development on
our personal PreClan projects.”
“Wouldn’t Uncle Sam automatically own the software
you developed while working on their payroll? You mentioned you
sold the program to them, so I’m a bit confused.”
“The program the Navy already had in place when I
started working for naval intelligence is completely different from
the one I developed. I did a few things in my capacity as a warrant
officer that helped to streamline what was already in place; but on
my down time, I started developing a program that was so dissimilar
to what the Navy was using, with a different platform and
algorithm, it couldn’t have been integrated with the military’s
systems.” David paused and topped off our wine.
“When I had enough of my program developed, I tapped
Bas to help me with the interface. He wasn’t working with me yet,
we’d never even met, but I’d heard about him and knew he had the
skills. We arranged everything thru emails and Skype. It took him
over a year, as he was actively on the ground in some of the
globe’s sandier climates, so he worked on the program in his
off-time.
“He and I arranged to meet for the first time to do a
complete system run, and it went flawlessly. As much as our brains
work differently, they meshed perfectly. I had an outside attorney,
we didn’t want to go through the military JAG office, write up our
incorporation paperwork, and we made an appointment with my boss to
try and sell the program.”
“So you two worked together, for over a year, without
having met each other?” I asked.
“Almost two years, by the time we could arrange to be
in the same place at the same time. It took a few meetings with
progressively more people, and higher up the food chain, but Uncle
Sam eventually bought the program and exclusive rights to first
choice of anything else we developed as PreClan, outside of the
video games, of course. When it was time to integrate our software,
Bas was given an assignment to my unit, and he stayed there the
last four years of our tours.
“The Navy put more pressure on him to test for his
E-7, which would take him out of the field. He finally conceded,
although he regularly snuck off with ground troops, under the
pretense of needing to be there for drone field testing. He hated
being behind a desk, but still tested later for his E-8, and left
the service as a senior chief.”
“You’re telling me, then, Bas would have been content
as an E-6 for the full twenty years he was in the service?”
“Yeah. Bas’ heart was on the ground, with his unit,
getting his hands dirty. He loved when we needed to do drone tests.
We had a pre-selected unit which did the simulations as well as the
real time tests with us. Bastian was in his element. I will admit,
his soldiering skills combined with his knowledge of the program,
helped us make some huge leaps in the way the software was
developed and utilized.”
Our conversation covered a little more on the
challenges they faced, without getting into any real detail. I
suppose it was a matter of “if I tell you, I’ll have to kill you,”
or something along those lines. David also touched on a few of the
more promising locations they’d looked at, but none were quite
right for the clandestine work they would be doing.
We finished dinner and worked side-by-side to clean
and dry the dishes, saving Ken from having to clean up after us
tomorrow. I wasn’t much of a cook, but I did okay with clean-up, as
long as I was methodical about where I placed things.
When we snuggled up together on the couch, I caught a
faint hint of sandalwood and lime clinging to his t-shirt. “Mmmm,”
I sniffed appreciatively. “You tried on the scent Janey gave me for
spritzing my pillows and window seat cushions.”
“I saw it on the dresser and recognized the scent
from Janey’s house. It has a nice cologne spiciness to it. I’ll
have to get her to order some for me, too.”
I inhaled a deep breath, loving the scent of the
sandalwood mixed with David. On impulse, I mock-pounced and started
raining kisses, alternated with exaggerated sniffing noises, over
his neck and shoulders. “You smell like my bed. That is so friggin’
hot!” Laughing, he let me roll him under me as I slowed the kisses
to soft and drugging.
Much later, we were in bed, breathing hard, sweat
cooling on our skin, with our bodies still linked. David stroked
his knuckles over my cheek and told me, “I love you, Teresa.”
I smiled, “And, I love you, David.”
I wasn't surprised to get a call from Detective
Stephens last night, asking me to drop by the police department.
While I was on my cell with the detective, David called Bas. We
were able to coordinate a ten o'clock meeting time for all of us,
in Lieutenant Faber's office, on Monday morning.
Bas agreed to meet us at my house, and we would
travel together to the station. He arrived at eight so we could sit
together over coffee and decide what we would, and would not, agree
to do in our efforts to assist the police. While I was concerned
about Officer Blair's actions, I wasn't convinced it would prevent
us from trying to help if Red and I could make a difference with
the task force.
When David got up to call Red in from outside, Bas
asked me, “How are you doing?”
“I'm fine, Bas, more than fine,” I assured him.
“Thanks for giving us some space.”
I received a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Be happy.
If you can't be with me, then I'm glad you found David. He's a good
man.” David must have returned to the room because Bas said over my
head, “Don't screw this up. She's probably the best thing that will
ever happen to you.”
“Yeah,” David agreed. He stood behind my chair and
raked his fingers through my hair from temple to ends; it was
longer now, already tickling my shoulders. He placed a soft kiss on
the crown of my head (I guess he couldn't reach my nose from that
angle). “I am well aware of how lucky I am.”
“
Is it time to go yet?”
Red asked.
“Almost,” I told him. “David is going to get you
harnessed up this morning. And, we're taking Bastian's SUV, so
you'll have some room in the back to move around.”
To the room in general, I inquired, “How are we doing
for time guys?”
“It’s 9:15,” Bas replied. “If we leave now, we'll
have plenty of time to find parking.”
“Alright, pal! Quit spinning in circles or I'll never
get this harness buckled. You'd be in the car already, with your
head out the window, if you'd simmer down.” David joked.
“
But we get to go for a drive!”
Red whined
dramatically. What a ham. I relayed his passion-filled enthusiasm
to Bas and David who laughed at the dog's excitement.
****************
Fifteen minutes into the drive, drama dog had changed
his tune.
“Are we almost there? How much farther? We have been
driving forever!”
“Oh for goodness sakes, Red! Twenty minutes ago you
couldn't wait to go for a car ride, now you can't wait to get
out.”
“
Well, now I have to pee! And we're passing all
these places which would be perfect.”
“You peed before we left the house. We are not going
to stop at every tree so you can mark territory. I know, for a
fact, you can hold your bladder for hours, so don't try to con me
you scoundrel.” I'm not sure how much of the conversation the guys
were following in the front seat, but I'm sure they were catching
the gist of Red's complaints from my end of the discussion. “You
can wait another ten minutes for us to get there, then we'll let
you sniff around before we go inside.”
“
Ten minutes?”
I heard him drop dramatically
to the folded down seatback beside me. Who knew he had such a sense
of theatrics?
“But... hey, what's that smell?”
Our Oscar
contender soon had his head back out the window again as he
absorbed new scents with joyful glee.
“Who knew Red was such an actor?” I asked anyone who
was listening.
Bas laughed, “It was a great tantrum until the part
when he smelled us driving past half-a-dozen fast food
restaurants.”
“Oooh, shiny,” David mocked. “Our boy is easily
distracted.”
“So true,” I agreed, secretly happy he had referred
to Red as “our boy.” I was glad my place in his thoughts included
Red.
“
Hey, are we close yet? It’s been hours,”
Red
sighed, mournfully.
David must have noticed Red had his head back inside.
“We're passing close by the park. I think I smell hotdogs,” he
lied—or at least I'm sure he was stretching the truth.
“
Hotdogs? Oh, I loooooove hotdogs! Can we get
one?”
I felt the air pressure change again, as Red thrust his
head out the window once more.
“Almost there,” Bas said, for my benefit.
“Thank goodness! He's driving me nuts back here.”
Bas slowed the vehicle and made a series of turns
until he found a parking spot. He volunteered to take Red on his
leash to a nearby weeded area so my boy could mark all the dead
bushes, and dried grass, to his heart’s content.
David helped me out of the car, a courtesy, rather
than a necessity. He told me a few weeks back he realized I could
do things for myself, but he liked making life a little easier for
me. It seemed churlish to refuse his small kindnesses in an
unnecessary bid for independence. He wasn't trying to make me
dependent on him. He simply enjoyed holding my hand when he helped
me out of the car. Truth be known, I liked it too.
“Do you need anything from Red's backpack?” he
asked.
“No, he should be fine for a couple of hours without
his water bowl. I'd rather have less stuff going through the
security screening.”
“Are we ready?” Bas asked, joining us. “I can hang
onto the leash for you, Teresa. Time check is one minute to
ten.”
“Thanks Bas.” Red nudged my left thigh to let me know
he was in position. Right then, a nearby clock started to chime out
the first of ten bells.
“It appears my watch is a minute slow,” Bas joked.
“Let's get a move on.”
We had barely made it through security when David
called out from beside me, “Hello, Detective Stephens. Hope you
haven't been waiting too long?”
“No, no. I only arrived as you were approaching the
front doors. We are ready for you upstairs. You must be Sebastian
Declan, nice to meet you sir. I'm Detective Stephens.”
I'm sure there were the appropriate handshakes and
measuring stares all around, testosterone was thick in the air; or
maybe it was purely my imagination. The five of us had an elevator
to ourselves as we rode up to the lieutenant's office.
“
Boy, everyone wants to be top dog,”
Red said.
“The detective is very aggressive toward Bas.”
Okay then, maybe it wasn't all in my head. “It’s
common when you get three alpha males in close quarters, Red. Growl
a warning if it looks like one of them is going to lift a leg and
pee on something. I don't want to get splashed.”
Red snickered, and gave me a status report:
“The
detective is embarrassed, David is really amused, and Bas is
combative. I think he would happily bitch slap the
detective.”
“And who do I have to thank for adding
that
little gem to your vocabulary?” I snipped, “Janey, right?”
“
Actually, I think it was Ken,”
he
answered.
“I'm going to have to have a long talk with Ken,” I
promised.
“
Will it involve taking away cookies and no more
doggie bags?”
Red clearly was feeling frisky with all the
tension.
“Ignore them,” David suggested to the detective,
“after a while the noise doesn’t even register. It’s like listening
to an old married couple when these two get started.”
The doors swished open, effectively cutting off any
comment I might have come up with. In truth, we probably did sound
that way. I thought I hid my contented grin, but David leaned over
and whispered in my ear, “I saw that.”
Red was back to work as we entered the lieutenant's
office.
“Marks, Faber, Jackson, Willman, and Blair are here.
There are also two men, not in uniforms, next to Blair and a
different man at a computer in the corner.”
As we had agreed this morning, Bas and David stood at
my back, one on each side of me. I was to be the spokesperson
unless Blair's actions represented a threat to us. Red's job was to
position me so I was facing Lt. Faber.
“Gentlemen, Officer Marks, Lt. Faber, Good morning.”
I said to the room in greeting. “Since Officer Blair is no longer
at the computer, I will assume he was acting without your
authority, Lt. Faber?”
“Please, have a seat,” Lt. Faber, offered,
momentarily avoiding the question.