“Uh-uh,” she said. “You can’t kiss me whenever you feel like it.”
“What? You kissed me. I was just sitting here.”
She turned and checked the door to the lab, locking it, then turned back and pulled her scrub top off and dropped it to the floor. She was wearing a simple white bra, which she unclasped in the front and removed.
“What’s going on?” he asked. She knew about the Red Cross bombing. While they had dated, he never expected to consummate their relationship, given that she knew he was a monster.
Her naked breasts, full and firm, spoke otherwise.
She came to him and kissed him passionately. His body responded, even though he was self-conscious of his missing foot and scars. She was breathing harder, and soon she was naked, pulling his briefs down around his ankles.
Their lovemaking was short-lived. She was still kissing him as he struggled to speak. “Sorry. It’s been a long time.”
She giggled and rolled off him, then stood and began dressing. “Don’t apologize. You don’t ever have to apologize to me.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that about?”
She stared at him critically. “You don’t know, do you? You’ve almost died numerous times in the field. It finally hit me when I read the medical reports from Turkey. You could die at any moment. I guess… I guess I never thought about it before. I realized I liked you.”
“You like me? I never noticed.”
She laughed. “You know what I mean.”
He wasn’t actually sure what she meant. Somewhere along the line, after countless injuries and tests, her feelings had changed. Maybe it was because she saw the man he had become, or maybe she saw how hard he tried to make up for what he had done. “Do you believe in second chances?”
She stopped fastening her bra. “What do you mean?”
He had to tread lightly. “I was just a grunt in Iraq. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to make the US safe. Then my Humvee got hit. Everything fell apart after that. It felt like I failed. Then Eric and Deion recruited me. I was given a second chance.”
A mix of emotions played across her face, from concern to suspicion, before finally settling on calm resignation. “You have been given a second chance, John. You are making a difference. It’s what I love about you. Now put your underwear back on so I can give you that shot. Then we can eat and go back to your quarters.”
He nodded, still confused.
Sounds good to me.
Dewey’s IM popped on Karen’s monitor.
HEY, GOT A SEC?
Just like Dewey to bother her when she was working. She gulped down the last of her coffee and answered.
BUSY, DEWEY.
I KNOW. I NEED TO TALK TO YOU.
I’M BUSY, CAN’T IT WAIT?
PLEASE.
She stared at the monitor. Dewey rarely said please.
WHAT.
NOT OVER IM. COME TO MY OFFICE.
She heard someone growling in frustration and realized it was her. She glanced around the War Room, but nobody noticed. She stood and saluted Sergeant Clark, who acknowledged her with a tip of his head, then exited through the man trap and took the nearest stairs through the bowels of the base until she found herself in front of Dewey’s office.
She rapped her knuckles lightly against the door and counted to five before the door cracked open and Dewey peeked out. His pale skin was almost ghostly white and he looked sweaty, strands of hair plastered against his head.
“Come in,” he said, ushering her through the clutter.
She noticed that much of the junk had been pushed to the corner and nine flat screen monitors formed a grid behind his main desk. “What are you working on?”
Dewey shook his head. “Not yet. I have to tell you something.”
She sucked in her breath. “What’s wrong, Dewey? You look like crap.”
He slumped into his chair and stared mournfully at her. “I think I made a big mistake.”
“Start from the beginning,” she urged. “Just take a deep breath and tell me.”
He nodded and took a gasping breath, then exhaled slowly. “I did some research for Fulton Smith.”
“Okay. What kind of research.”
“I hacked Doctor Elliot’s files and found something he invented but never actually built.”
Her jaw dropped. “You did what?”
“I broke—”
“No,” she said. “I heard you. I just can’t believe it.” He started to speak but she stopped him with a withering glare. “No, I believe you did it, but you shouldn’t have.”
“Will you let me finish?”
“Fine. What device?”
“It’s a deep-brain stimulator. I don’t think he had the time to finish it, but the Old Man asked me to research it, to see if it could help.”
Baffled, she said, “Help what?”
Dewey took another deep breath. “The Old Man has Alzheimer’s.”
“What?”
He pulled his legs up, his heels resting on the edge of his seat, then wrapped his arms around his knees. “I guess he’s getting worse. Doctor Barnwell has been treating him with an experimental drug, but it’s not working anymore. They’re going to implant the device in the Old Man’s head.”
She rocked back in her chair, staring at her friend. “That’s crazy. Why did you ever think to do such a thing? How did you even know how to do such a thing?”
“It was the Old Man,” Dewey said. “He asked me to break into Elliot’s files. When I found it, the Old Man asked if it could help someone with Alzheimer’s. I broke into a researcher’s database at Harvard and… appropriated their work. The initial trials looked promising. With Elliot’s device and some of the tech here, I figured out how to make it work.”
“Appropriated?” Dewey was a dear friend, but he lacked boundaries. If Eric knew all the things Dewey had broken into and “appropriated” over the years, Dewey would probably be locked up in a box. And, that box would be locked inside another box.
And, they would lose the key. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“I didn’t want to worry you. I knew you would say I shouldn’t have done it.”
“You shouldn’t have done it.”
“But the Old Man asked. I couldn’t turn him down. He might get angry. Or, Nancy. I don’t want to make her angry. But, now I think maybe she doesn’t know about it.”
“You can’t base all your decisions off angering your girlfriend. You don’t have to do things just to keep her happy.”
He squinted at her. “Are you sure? That doesn’t sound right.”
“Damn it, Dewey! Will the device work?”
His eyes darted around his office before settling back on her. “I don’t know. It should. The theories are sound.”
“You don’t have the background to judge that,” she said. “I know you’re smart, but you’re not an expert. Did you tell Nathan about this?”
Dewey nodded. “He was mad. Real mad. Of course, he didn’t say it wouldn’t work, and he agreed to do the surgery….”
“I can’t believe this. They’re going to put this in Smith’s head? When?”