| Subject: Redemption 5 |
Author:
Rox
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Date Posted: 04:54:52 12/17/01 Mon
In reply to:
Rox
's message, "Redemption (Sequel to Mea Culpa)" on 20:54:56 12/13/01 Thu
Brandon told Section every meeting place of the Aryan Brotherhood that he had access to as fast as he could get the words out. When he had exhausted every bit of knowledge he had, he turned to Operations.
“Sir, I want you to know I’m sorry about my brother -- and all of this. I’d like to go with one of the teams to Colorado. If we find Ross, I might be able to talk to him -- make him listen to reason.”
When Operation’s face remained hard, Brandon asked again, “Please? I want to help.”
Operations looked over at Madeline, who nodded, then at Nikita, who echoed Madeline’s gesture, and finally at Brandon. “All right. Nikita, you are personally responsible for him. Three teams have assembled and are ready to depart -- go with one of them.”
Nikita gave Operations a rare smile of thanks before grabbing Brandon by the arm and bolting for the assembly area.
They found Walter scurrying around, passing out equipment and weapons.
“Suit us up, Walter,” Nikita said upon their arrival.
“Where you going?” Walter growled at Brandon.
“To stop my brother, if I can,” Brandon replied firmly.
Taken aback, Walter looked to Nikita for verification. She gave him a faint smile and nodded.
“Hmmm. Turns out, you’re not such a bad guy after all.” He grinned and rubbed his knuckles atop Brandon’s head affectionately. “Here’s some more advice -- grow some hair!” he growled. Then switching gears, Walter became more serious. “Get your uniform over there --they’re broken out by sizes -- come back here for your weapon and ammo.”Brandon rushed off to get dressed, and Walter turned to Nikita. “You too, Sugar?”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“Guess you were right about him,” he commented, pointing a thumb in Brandon’s direction.
“And know what? He didn’t even kill the cop that got him sent to Section.”
Walter gave her a sad smile. “Sounds like you two have a lot in common.”
“What do you mean?” Nikita asked, unsure of his meaning.
“Hell, Sugar, you didn’t kill anybody to get in Section either.”
His words earned him a quick hug from a misty-eyed Nikita. “Thanks, Walter.”
* * *
Somewhere near Colorado Springs, Colorado
“And that, gentlemen, is what the Aryan Brotherhood stands for!” The speaker paused for applause before turning the podium over to two men in khaki uniforms.
As Michael applauded from his position in the rear of the tent, he nodded to Mowen, who was stationed near the tent opening. Mowen returned the nod and left the tent. Michael lingered briefly, then followed.
“How many have we sold so far?” Michael asked, as he and Mowen strode back to where Phillips and Garrison sat at their table, selling Walter’s prototype-rifles.
Mowen grinned. “All of them, to some guy named Eastman.” Then he chuckled. “You think Operations will let us keep the cash?”
Michael smiled faintly before asking, “What about orders for more?”
“About 23 so far.”
“Make sure you download the names and addresses to Birkoff. Meyer could be hiding out with any of these men. We’ll need to check everyone.”
“Already done,” Mowen answered briskly. “Birky should be sending out teams as we speak.”
Michael nodded, and both men disappeared into their tent.
* * *
“Try and sleep. It might be your only chance for a while,” Nikita said, leaning over to speak in Brandon’s ear as they sat side by side inside a Blackhawk helicopter.
“Can’t,” he replied, “too nervous. Besides, I’ve never been in a helicopter before. This is fantastic!” Both of them had to shout over the noise of the rotors.
Nikita grinned at him with the indulgence of an older sister and shook her head. “Suit yourself.” Then she shivered and folded her arms. “It’s always so cold on these things.”
“Here, take my jacket.” Brandon unzipped his parka and slipped his arms out of the sleeves.
“Aren’t you cold?” She asked with some hesitation.
“Naw, take it. I’ll let you know if I need it back.” He wrapped it loosely about her shoulders.
“Well, don’t be shy about asking for it if you get cold.” She smiled and snuggled happily against the lingering warmth from Brandon’s body.
Watching Brandon as he stared out of the helicopter’s window, Nikita thought how much a boy he seemed one moment -- excited over a helicopter ride -- and how much a man he proved himself to be the next. Although she was only two years his senior, she felt so much older. Brandon was still innocent, as innocent as Nikita herself had been only a couple of years ago. It saddened her to think that he would lose that innocence -- and if things happened as Section hoped, he might have to lose it that very day. The thought wearied her, and she closed her eyes to sleep.
Brandon slipped an arm around Nikita and carefully repositioned her until her head came to rest against his shoulder. At first he feared she’d awaken, but Nikita had long since learned to nap whenever and wherever she could. He watched her sleep for nearly an hour, his heart beating like a drum in a rock band. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t believe she was actually asleep in his arms! He examined her minutely, taking in each feature and savoring it. He’d been 14 when he’d been arrested. He’d never had the chance to hold a girl, much less kiss one, and he wondered, with some excitement, if Nikita could ever feel for him what he was feeling for her.
Looking at the others on board the helicopter with them, Brandon saw that they were all occupied. He looked back at Nikita, her mouth pink and sweet and only inches away. The desire to kiss her, to know what she tasted like, became a magnet drawing him closer. Just once, he thought and hoped, just once.
Nikita awoke as Brandon’s mouth covered hers ever so gently. She’d been dreaming, dreaming of Michael. The kiss brought her to tears and Brandon, seeing them, pulled back embarrassed and started to apologize.
Nikita stopped him by finishing the kiss that he started, wondering as she did so, who needed it more -- Brandon or herself. When she finished, she smiled at him.
“Thanks, you can have your jacket back now.” She moved away to have enough room to slip it off her shoulders and return it to him.
Brandon could only nod mutely, wide-eyed with the intoxicating realization that Nikita had kissed him back!
Neither of them had time to contemplate what had occurred. Immediately afterwards, the pilot shouted over his shoulder that they were landing.
* * *
“Ken, this is Brandon.” Nikita made the quick introductions as they climbed into the back of an awaiting HumVee.
Ken Stillman held out his hand to Brandon, who after a microsecond’s hesitation, took it and shook it firmly.
“Glad to meet you,” Brandon added politely. Ken returned his words with a smile and a nod. It was a big step, Nikita thought to herself, knowing that Stillman’s race was once an issue with Brandon.
“Where are we in the sequencing?” Nikita asked as she donned her flack jacket.
“Michael and his team are in place, awaiting our arrival. So far we haven’t had hard contact with the target, but Birkoff has some leads.”
Nikita looked to see if Brandon was upset at having his brother referred to as the “target,” but Brandon’s mind seemed to be elsewhere. He smiled wistfully at her, and Nikita blushed at what she saw in his eyes.
Stillman saw the exchange and pressed his lips together to hide a smile. Nikita had yet another conquest!
* * *
Brandon lay on his belly next to Nikita and Stillman and cautiously peered over the hill through a pair of night-vision binoculars. The ground was cold and damp, and a thin layer of frost crunched beneath his elbows as he shifted to look in another direction.
“There,” Brandon said quietly, pointing off to the far left, “see it? The smoke?” He flexed his numb fingers on his left hand before looking through the glasses again.
Nikita looked through her glasses at where Brandon had indicated. “Yes, I see it. But how do we know they aren’t just campers?”
“We don’t, not for sure, but this area is off limits for camping after Labor Day, and it’s awfully cold -- not much fun to be camping out in this mess,” Brandon commented soberly.
“He’s right, Nikita. But if you want me to, I could go down and knock on their door and ask for directions,” Stillman offered blandly.
Both Nikita and Brandon looked at him with wide-eyed, are-you-nuts expressions on their faces. It took a moment for Stillman to get the point.
“Oh, yeah,” he said sheepishly. “I forgot. I’m black.” He tossed his braided dreadlocks over his shoulder for effect.
To trap their laughter, Nikita and Brandon had to slap hands across their mouths. Stillman bit his lips to keep from joining them.
* * *
“Shouldn’t I go and see if my brother’s down there?” Brandon asked as they got back to the Section base camp.
“Not tonight. It’s too dangerous,” Nikita answered.
“If Ross is down there, he wouldn’t hurt me.”
“But what if he isn’t? And how are you going to explain coming back from the dead?”
“Another bureaucratic mistake?” Brandon quipped, knowing how both he and Nikita had been victims of such errors in the past.
“Funny,” she said dryly. “Besides, we have to wait until all our teams are in place and we’ve got the go-ahead from Section.”
“Well, what do we do in the meantime?” Brandon asked with the impatience of youth.
“We’ll find something, I’m sure,” she said taking him by the hand.
“We will?” He answered with a quirky grin of anticipation.
“Are you hungry?” She asked, leading him in the direction of one of the command and control vans.
“Ah, a little.” He sounded disappointed.
“A little? Don’t forget, I’ve seen you eat!” Nikita joked as she pulled him along.
“Nikita, hang on a second.”
“What for?”
“I… uh…” Brandon stopped in his tracks so suddenly, Nikita grew wary.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking around them.
“Nothing. I’d just like it if we could talk for a minute.”
She looked up at him. It surprised her for a moment to realize that he was taller than she was. She hadn’t noticed that before.
“About what?”
“Not over there -- here,” he said cryptically, pulling her behind a nearby tree.
“Why here?” Nikita managed to get out before Brandon pressed her against the tree.
“Because I don’t believe in kissing in public,” Brandon murmured before pressing his mouth to hers.
His kiss was gentle, almost timid at first. Realizing that, Nikita didn’t push him away. He was in the throes of his first crush, and Nikita didn’t have the heart to hurt him. Instead she looped her arms around his neck and held him.
“I… I think I love you, Nikita,” he mumbled against her neck.
Nikita could hear the red in his face, even if it was too dark to see it. “Brandon, you hardly know me.” His admission upset her because she knew that sooner or later she’d hurt him because she didn’t feel the same.
“I know enough,” he said. His voice sounded strange -- like someone suddenly older. “It’s okay. I know you don’t love me back.”
Nikita felt tears prick her eyes -- damn! What was it about him that made her so emotional? She felt his fingers comb through her hair and braced herself for another kiss -- this one, however, fell lightly against her forehead. “It doesn’t matter,” he said with a sigh. “I just had to tell someone how I felt. Are we still friends?”
Nikita buried him with a hug. “Always. Always.”
Michael watched from the shadows in silence before a voice over his com-set called him away.
* * *
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