The Marriage Game, page 12
A sound to his far left alerted him to the fact that someone was closer than he or she should be. He dived deeper into the shrubbery and waited, his paintball gun at the ready. He saw a head, then an arm holding a gun with red splatters all over it. He took aim and fired.
Pappy heard the muffled, “Damn!” He moved off, slithering on his belly, commando style.
The game was on, and he had the first kill. A few minutes later, a red flare could be seen. Pappy moved into what he called his power mode. He knew if he waited long enough, the other recruits would surface. Ten minutes later, in rapid succession, he fired off two more shots. Within minutes two more flares whipped up and down the tree line. All three hits were from Team One, which didn’t say much for them.
Pappy moved to the southeast quadrant, crouching low, so low that he was practically crab walking. He grinned when he saw four more flares go up, one after the other. Seven down, eight recruits remaining. If they were all recruits that had been hit. There was no way for him to know. His eight-member staff, for all he knew, could be cut in half. Team Three was on the ball, and he suspected they had a trick or two up their respective sleeves. What it could be, he had no clue.
While Pappy pondered the question, Team Three was busy stalking two members of Team Four and three members of the staff. Zoe, who had been the point leader, slithered backward and reported to Sam. “I think,” she whispered, “the five of them are trying to come up with some kind of game plan. They have to be desperate if they’re cozying up to the staff. They don’t have any idea we’re as close as we are.”
Sam nodded as she looked to see two flares hit the pine trees, the smoke like dragons’ tails. She was aware that their team was still intact, and they had the power to eliminate five players with one fell swoop.
“You ready?” Hawkins asked as he tried not to laugh.
Kayla, Sam, and Olivia stripped off their flight suits, thanks to Slick’s sewing box from her days as a model and the Velcro strips she’d sewn into the suits so they could be removed with one rip of the fabric. Kayla stood in all her belly-dancing glory while Olivia wore her Dallas Cowboy cheerleader’s outfit, complete with baton made from a stick and covered with tinfoil. Sam stood nearly naked in her bra and bikini underwear to add more skin to the event.
Sam clapped her hands over her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh. “Okay, let’s go.”
Team Three crab crawled their way through the brush to where the recruits and staff were still trying to come up with a strategy. Zoe, Slick, and Hawkins were elected to do the shooting.
Kayla moved forward, Olivia right behind her, Sam across from her. Slick, Zoe, and Hawkins spread out, their paintball guns ready to fire the moment Kayla, Sam, and Olivia stood up to display their near nakedness.
Olivia jumped up first and yelled at the top of her lungs, “Sis Boom Ba!” as she twirled the homemade baton she’d carried with her, strapped to her leg under the flight suit. Kayla started to gyrate to the tune of some unheard music as she bellowed, “Talk about your Kodak moment!” Sam removed her bra and twirled it with one finger. The startled looks on the recruits’ and staff members’ faces slowed their reflexes as paint splattered in all directions—all five were hit simultaneously.
“Gotcha!” Sam said exuberantly, as Kayla and Olivia ran back to get their flight suits while she put her bra back on.
Team Three hunkered down in the brush as they waited for the five flares to go off. Then two more flares went off.
Team Three looked at one another. “How many are left?” Slick asked.
Sam shrugged. “I lost track. Wait a minute. Listen.”
Sound sailed into the forest as one of the staff members started to recite who had been killed just as two more flares colored the pine trees. More flares went off.
“Okay, we’re down to us, Pappy, and one member of his staff. Spread out and be careful.”
Pappy grimaced as he made his way through the forest. His gaze went everywhere as he ducked, swiveled, then dropped to the ground. Team Three was still intact, which almost made him proud. He was flat on the ground in a bed of pungent pine needles. The smell was so heady he could almost taste the resin. His hands were sticky and slimy from all the resin on the pine needles around him. He inched backward when he heard a commotion to his left. He rolled to the right, the toes of his boots looking for traction. When he rolled a second time he realized his mistake. His hands grappled for a hold on the slick pine needles and viny undergrowth. Team Three passed him just as another flare went off. That meant he was the only member of the staff still in the game. With that realization, he made his second mistake, and it was a serious one.
Pappy knew exactly where he was and what would happen if he lost his grip on the thick vines he was holding on to. Half his body was over the ledge. If he fell, he would be seriously injured. If he called out, Team Three could pull him to safety. IF.
Pappy grappled with the vine he was holding, but the more weight he put on it, the more it rippled across the space where it was growing. Too much slack. He tried wrapping the thick vine around his wrists, but it just kept ripping from the ground to give him yards of slack. The slick resin from the pine needles wasn’t helping his handholds; in fact, it was making it worse. Think, don’t be stupid, call out. The hardest thing to learn in life was which bridge to cross and which bridge to burn. He opened his mouth to shout when he looked upward as a dark shadow crossed his features.
Sam stood a yard away, the paintball gun pointed at his shoulder. “I thought I heard a noise. Were you about to call out? Looks like you could use some help.”
“Hell, yes. Get Hawkins to pull me out of here!”
“Why should I call Hawkins? Why don’t you ask me? I’m standing right in front of you,” Sam asked curiously.
“Because you hate my guts. You’re happy to see me in this predicament. It’s called getting even.”
Sam kicked Pappy’s paintball gun out of the way. “Really!” She peered over the embankment. “Oooh, this isn’t lookin’ good,” Sam drawled lazily. “So, do you want me to help you or not?”
“I told you to get Hawkins. That’s a goddamn order, Rainford. You don’t have the upper-body strength to pull me up.”
“Is that a fact?” Sam aimed the paintball gun and fired. The paintball hit Pappy on the shoulder. “It doesn’t pay to lose sight of one’s mission. Just for the record, this is a pretty silly game. It’s for teenagers. Guess you don’t want my help, huh?”
Pappy clenched his teeth. “I gave you an order, Rainford. Call Hawkins.”
Sam sighed as she shrugged. “Hey, Hawkins, our fearless leader is in need of your help.” When there was no response, she looked down at the man hanging on to the vine. “Guess he can’t hear me.” She dropped to her haunches until she was eyeball-to-eyeball with Pappy. “You got a thing about women, huh. Right now, I’m all you’ve got. I’m getting kind of tired of this whole thing. I’m going to count to three, then I’m walking away. You want my help, ask for it. One. Two…”
“Okay. Help me up, Rainford.”
Sam threw her hands in the air. “I don’t have a rope. Wait a minute, I have an idea!” She ripped at the flight suit’s Velcro fastenings. She stood tall in bikini underwear and lacy bra.
Pappy stared, his eyes almost popping out of his head. “The combat boots make the outfit.” He laughed in spite of himself.
Sam twisted the flight suit into a tight, thick rope before she shoved the legs toward Pappy, who grasped them with his right hand, his left secure on the vine. Sam held on to the arms as she dug the heels of her combat boots into the damp bed of pine needles. She used every ounce of strength to pull her tormentor over the top. Twice she slipped, righted herself, and pulled harder. “Damn you, help me here. Give it some muscle, don’t make me do it all. Use both hands, you ass!” Sam commanded.
“What, so you can let go!”
“I’m not you, Havapopulas! Now, damn you, let’s do it.” Sam gave a mighty tug, her upper arms bulging with muscle, her chest rippling, and Pappy was over the top. She took one long look at the man she’d just rescued before she walked away in her underwear. “We’re even now,” she called over her shoulder.
When Sam walked into the clearing, Pappy behind her, admiring her wiggling derriere, she eyed the recruits and the staff with her head high. “Don’t ask!” she said as she clomped her way to the Omega Three building.
Alpha, who was sitting on the steps of the building, threw back his head and howled, an ungodly sound that seemed to reverberate over the mountain. Sam stopped on the top step, looked at the dog, and said, “Shut up, you…you male!” It might have been her tone or her lack of clothing. Whatever it was, the wolf-dog slunk down the steps and across the compound to where his master stood.
Pappy’s hand reached down to fondle the dog’s ears. “Yeah, I know,” he mumbled.
An hour later, Sam walked out of the shower wrapped in a ratty old robe to see her teammates carrying in a tacky, three-foot-high, silver-plated paintball gun. “It goes with our decor,” Slick giggled as she set the trophy on the mantel. “C’mon, Sam, tell us what happened out there.”
Sam told them. All of them choked with laughter as they pounded one another on the back. “Chalk one up for Team Three!”
Sam was left alone with Hawkins while the others headed for the showers. “I did it, Hawkins, I pulled him free. He’s got to weigh at least 180 pounds. If I can do that, why can’t I climb the frigging rope and scale the wall?”
“Because you had your feet working with you would be my guess. You were on solid ground. And you were using your back muscles. Hell, I don’t know, Sam. I weigh what Pappy weighs. I’m a guy, and I’m on par with you. How do you think I feel? I’m going to toss out an idea that might help you. When you’re climbing the rope and scaling the wall, pretend that your ex-husband is at the top and you get first dibs on him.”
Sam’s jaw dropped. “Sometimes, Hawkins, you are so smart you boggle my mind. I’ll give it a try. On the shooting range it’s Pappy’s face in the bull’s-eye.”
Hawkins laughed. “Yeah, I know.”
Pappy entered his quarters, Alpha at his side. He looked down at his hands and was surprised to see he was still holding Sam’s flight suit. He tossed it on the couch before heading for the shower. His thoughts were chaotic as he turned on the tap. Steaming hot, then ice-cold. Shivering, he stepped out of the glass enclosure fifteen minutes later, wrapped a towel around his middle, and walked back out to the sitting room. He was stunned to see the big dog cradling Sam’s flight suit in his paws, his monster body lying half-on and half-off it. He looked up at Pappy and whined.
Pappy dropped to his haunches. “It smells like strawberries, doesn’t it? I was this close to Sam. I could count the freckles on her nose. She saved me, Alpha. If I’d gone over that edge, I could have broken my neck or my back.” He stroked the big dog’s head for a long time as he struggled with his memories.
When Alpha finally closed his eyes, Pappy got up, his legs stiff and sore. He was getting too old for this stuff. He walked into his bedroom and straight to the bottom drawer of his dresser. He reached in and brought out a filmy Hermès scarf he’d given Adrian one year on her birthday. She wore it constantly. He brought it up to his cheek, the scent of strawberries faint and sweet. It was time to let it go. His shoulders felt a hundred pounds lighter when he burned the scarf in the fireplace.
When he was dressed, he debated taking the flight suit from Alpha but thought better of the idea. He would lie and tell Sam he’d left it in the forest. Alpha needed it more than Sam needed it. Or was he the one who needed it?
Outside in the bright sunshine, he walked to the dining hall. He needed a good strong cup of his father’s coffee. Another stupid lie. He needed his father.
In the stainless-steel kitchen, Pappy poured himself a cup of coffee. He perched on one of the stools and looked across the workstation at his father. “Aren’t you going to ask how it went, Pop?”
“I already know, son. This time around, I think you have a good team. I wasn’t sorry to see those nine go. There wasn’t one of them that appreciated the excellent food I prepare. They were hamburger and hot dog material.” That was how Kyros summed up all the recruits who’d come to the mountain over the years. Sometimes he would be more explicit by saying none of them appreciated goat cheese and most of them didn’t know a shiitake mushroom from a toadstool.
Pappy laughed. “I think you’re right, Pop. They work as a team. Today proved that. There’s no ego there, but they have some kind of agenda that’s all their own. I’d give anything to know what it is. It could interfere with our plans here on the mountain.”
“Why don’t you try asking?” Kyros said slyly. “I see the way you look at the one named Sam. Make it work for you, son. Whatever you do, stop comparing her to Adrian.”
“Did you get over Mom, just like that?”
“No. No, I didn’t, and that was a mistake on my part. I don’t want to see the same thing happen to you that happened to me. Lay it all to rest and move on. I’m thinking, if you play your cards right, you might get another chance at the brass ring.”
Pappy eyed his father over his coffee cup. “I’ll give it some thought, Pop.”
Chapter Nine
The blistering-hot, muggy days of summer had long since given way to autumn and glorious foliage on the mountain. Autumn in turn had slid away to an early winter with almost daily snow flurries.
Other changes had taken place on the mountain, too. Team Two was defunct. Team Four and Team One were referred to as Team Five. Team Five was very competitive as well as combative, with four men and two women making up its complement. The final cut had been made on Halloween, with most of the team members thinking it was some kind of Halloween prank. It wasn’t.
It was two days before Thanksgiving when Hawkins banked the fire in the huge fieldstone fireplace before turning in for the night. The last thing he did before heading back to his bed was to check the temperature gauge outside on the miniporch. He whooped and shouted to his teammates. “Hey, come look at this!” The women ran to the front window and gasped. The ground was covered with snow, and the thermometer said it was thirty degrees.
A period of squealing and moaning ensued before the group made its way back to bed. An early-morning fitness run was on their schedule. Lights out had been ten minutes ago. There was more moaning and groaning when Slick said they should get their gear ready before they turned in.
A round of good nights followed as Team Three curled up under the covers. The time was nine forty-five.
Snow fell steadily as the temperature dropped and as Team Three slept.
The compound came alive at two o’clock with floodlights, and a bullhorn demanded that all team members report to the compound in five minutes.
“What the hell…” was the general comment as Team Three pulled on their outdoor clothing, zipping and buttoning as they barreled out to the compound. Everyone thanked Slick for the suggestion to ready their clothing before crawling between the covers. They were the first to arrive in the compound. They had to wait a full seven minutes before Team Five arrived, looking like the Key-stone Kops. Team Three made no attempt to hide the smug looks on their faces.
Snow continued to fall, as did the temperature.
Pappy stood front and center, dressed in his cold weather gear. “Listen up! We’re doing a ninety-minute, ten-mile run starting in two minutes. I’m giving you an extra thirty minutes because of the inclement weather. In case you’re wondering why we’re doing this, it’s to test your stamina. Spinally is our group leader. I’ll bring up the rear. If you don’t cut it, or if you fall by the wayside, return to camp and you’ll be given another chance at five thirty. Two and a half hours from now. You will start from this point, not where you failed. Are we all clear on this? I want a show of hands.” When everyone’s hand, including Spinally’s, shot in the air, Pappy said, “Go!”
It was a torture trek, and they all knew it. Inside the forest, the snow was sparse, but what there was of it was slick on the pine-needle floor of the forest, making it almost impossible to get any kind of traction. The nightmare part of the run was going to be the incline. They were going up where it was colder and where there was more snow. Twice, Team Three ran past Spinally, who fell to his knees, losing precious seconds. He never did catch up.
Kayla and Olivia were in the lead, their well-muscled legs pumping furiously. Zoe was even with Sam, who was pacing herself and breathing evenly, a scarf tied around the lower half of her face. Hawkins brought up the rear, but he, too, was pacing himself. Sam knew he had legs like pistons, so she wasn’t worried about him, or any of the others for that matter.
“Don’t waste time talking,” Sam shouted to be heard over the wind and whirling snow. Stamina my ass, she thought as she plowed forward. She knew this was a male/female test. There was no doubt in her mind that Team Three was going to win even though Pappy had not said it was a contest. Well, she knew something the other team didn’t know. Every single member of Team Three had only 3 percent body fat, which definitely gave them the edge. Now if they could all speak six foreign languages fluently, they could conquer the world. The thought was so funny she started to laugh.
“What’s so damn funny, Sam?” Hawkins asked.
Sam broke her own order and explained. “We are so in shape it’s scary. Plus, I know something none of you know. The guy named Lukash has hemorrhoids. I was in the infirmary getting some aspirin the other day when he was talking to the nurse. Bad hemorrhoids. I can feel him chafing as we speak. The tall blonde named Kate has an abscessed tooth. A dentist is coming up today to fix it. Vandameer has flat feet, and Carpenter threw his knee out three days ago.”
“How do you know all this stuff, Sam?” Hawkins gasped as he struggled with his footing.
“I make it my business to know what the other side is up to. It’s called spying. Isn’t that why we’re here? To learn how to spy?”
