LIfe After War #5-Brady, Brady, Brady

First Sergeant Marcus Brady

Age: 35

Height: 6’

12/13/77

Weight: 225 lbs

Broad shoulders

Loner/slightly bitter

Forced to go into the service

Black feathered hair

Colt .45’s-matching ivory handles

Full, pouty lips

Quote: “It’s okay to be scared, but you have to think too.”

Strengths

-There are few problems he can’t handle if given the time or materials.

-Once his loyalty is given, it is unshakable.

Weaknesses

-Knows how to be a team player but his misery often makes him a loner.

-beyond at having another chance with Angie, he has no other goals, no vision for his future.

FBI notes

-DNA marker came back inconclusive. Subject shows no signs of mental abilities; however, termination has been recommended due to above average strategy skills. Considered Dangerous. Location: New Mexico-See case manager for map.

How does Marc feel about Angie becoming an Eagle? Here’s a clip that should help explain it.

“Can I sit here?”

Angela looked up from her tray with an unguarded smile that made Marc’s heart thump.

“You know it.”

Her response, however, made his anger flare higher. She sounded more like these people every day. “I’d like to talk to you about something that’s bothering me.”

Angela answered distractedly, glad to feel the pill finally starting to calm the heat in her shoulder. “What’s up?”

Marc sat across from her and braced himself, suddenly sure it would go badly. “I don’t think you should be an Eagle.”

A breathless sort of shock slid over her face and Marc dropped his head, but didn’t stop. “I’d like you to resign, find something else. There has to be a safer way for you to help him.”

“I see.” There was only ice now. “And your reasons?”

Marc felt the ambush coming, tried to head it off. “There’s a lot you’re not seeing and it might get you hurt. These people don’t want you to do it, not even the women here. Just you and Adrian.”

There was a sneer in his tone that had her frowning. He still didn’t trust or even like Adrian.

“That’s not true,” she argued, thinking of her shower visit from Hilda and Peggy. “There are a few.”

Marc shook his head. “Trained lapdogs don’t count.” His voice gentled, became almost patronizing to her wounded ears. “And none of them really think you can either. When the first cage match comes and no one hits you, everyone will see the flaw in his plans.”

Angela knew she should be furious with his lack of support, but she’d already noticed those things hadn’t she? Marc’s beef wasn’t the Eagles at the moment, but Adrian. “You’re jealous.”

It was a fact being stated. Marc couldn’t, wouldn’t deny it.

Sadness hit Angela in waves. “Why can’t I have both, Brady?”

“What?” Marc had been bracing for her anger, not a compromise.

“Both. You and the Eagles.”

Marc didn’t know what to say to that and she leaned forward. “I have the room and I’ve been working on it from the moment we got here. I want both.”

Angela’s voice lowered to a plea. “I need both. Please don’t make me pick one or the other.”

Marc hated it that he could feel himself turning into Kenn. “How does that work?”

“You have to let me do what I am meant to. If I get hurt in the process, that’s life now. I’ve been held back for so long!”

She noticed the nearest perimeter guards changing, made contact with the shadows. “And there’s so much I can do, so many ways I can help if I’m an Eagle.”

Angela turned back to him with flecks of steel shimmering. “I will be one of them, in every way, Brady. I’m almost free of the past, but this can’t hang between us. You’ll have to decide if you can let me live my life the way I see fit. If you can, I’ll share it with you, openly.”

Her tone went back to ice. “But that means accepting me as an Eagle.”

“And that’s firm? No room to bend?”

Angela sighed at the stiffness in his voice. “What if I said okay, Marc? I’ll move my stuff into your tent today and resign, go back to just being a doctor. Is that what you want?”

She had tried hard for casual, but the pain clear and Marc shook his head. “Yes.”

Angela’s face tightened. He wouldn’t force her, would he? “I’ll go pack. You tell Adrian.”

Marc’s eyes flashed and she gave him a hard stare, pushing away from the table. “I owe you, right? It’s time to start paying off that debt.”

Was she bluffing? Did it matter? He could never follow through. “I’m leaving soon. Get ready for it.”

Angela stood up, voice scornful as she struck back. “I was ready for it when you found me in Indiana.   Surprised you’ve stuck around this long.”

As you can see, he’s against it and things are getting ugly. What’s his biggest issue with it?

Her getting hurt or killed? Her becoming important in Safe Haven’s chain of command? All the time she’ll spend with the Eagles and not him?

No. He’s really afraid of not being needed. If she can stand on her own, he sees his own value to her as non-existent. Will he be able to adjust? I believe so.

Next week- Kenn-Why wasn’t he banished?

"This is Safe Haven Refugee Camp. Can anyone hear me?

Hello? Is anyone out there?"

The Survivors

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Life After War Wednesday-#4- Adrian + a Sneak Peak



Adrian's Eagles



This week, we’ll have a sneak peak at Adrian’s Eagles, but we’ll also be examining a little of the multi-layered onion that’s Adrian Mitchel. Let’s start with his profile.

Adrian Mitchel

Age: 48

Hair: Blond

Eyes: Blue

Height: 6’

Weight: 230 lb

Birthday: 7/4/64

Holsters on both hips

Sun streaked brows

Light goatee

Adrian has never known love beyond his bond with his mother. He instinctively knows how to be in a relationship, but has never felt the need to try. Until now. From the instant their eyes met, he recognized Angela as a kindred, but the strength of the feelings he has for Brady’s woman came as a surprise.

Sneak Peak: Adrian’s Eagles

April 25th, 2013

Fate just isn’t something you can plan for. Sometimes, all you can do is hold on and steer toward the shallows.

I was expecting all men. My help is only half that and I’m struggling to be careful with them and the camp. Samantha needs time to adjust before I can pull her in openly. Angie has to be trained, taught. The workload has increased but so have the benefits. Not one Seer, but three!

Fate blessed me and cursed me. Somewhere, laughter is spilling on my account, mostly because I can’t complain. I now have what I need. Where to begin! What to push the hardest or even first?

We’re spending the next two days here and I hope to get further in my head and with them. These women need to be accepted and I have total faith that fate will put us in just the right place, at just the right time.

And if one of them flinches, the camp won’t give them a second chance.

Adrian wasn’t entirely sure on that. It would depend on how bad the flinch was and what it cost…

“Got a minute?”

Adrian steadied himself against the vivid feel of her suddenly being in his head. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I need a schedule switch.”

Instantly alert, he closed the newest journal that now held a single entry. He had already filled ten others since the War of 2012.

“You’re having trouble?”

He felt her hesitate.

“Not exactly. Kyle said you changed shifts to mid morning when I came. Please, put them back?”

Adrian’s mind raced. Why would she want to be awake so early? Part of proving herself?

“Mostly to avoid… the morning sets.”

Adrian scowled furiously. Hiding from Kenn. No, he was out of camp with Zack and his team on a Slaver recon right now and usually had point at that time. The level one Eagles trained on that shift. She was avoiding Brady.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks.”

There was a pause where he felt her need for something else but didn’t respond. If it was important, she would ask. Without looking into those expressive eyes, he would only be guessing at her thoughts.

Angela let the connection open further, giving him what he wouldn’t ask for as she moved through tents. Another view of his camp.

The camp glowed with life through her eyes and it made Adrian’s heart fill with pride and satisfaction. These people were happy considering all that had happened, and obviously well cared for. Their leader was a good man.

“Thank you.”

“It’s my honor.”

Adrian closed his eyes, the peace she’d given him allowing for a rare extra few minutes to snooze and think. And what did his mind consider most important right at this very moment?
The woman now on her way to give a final class to two levels of Eagles.

Adrian’s bonding with Angela is both sweet and brutal. Through total freedom and trust, he shows her a life she’s never dreamed of, a way of living that fulfils her need to atone as much as her sense of duty. He made her more than she’s ever been and their time together will not be easy to forgotten. Adrian wants to fight for her but knows she need to figure it out for herself and steps back to let her.

Determined to do the right thing, Adrian concentrates on getting his people toward Arkansas, where a dangerous personal reunion waits for him. Have the choices he’s made cost him a son? Even Angela can’t be sure.

 And how does Marc feel about all this?

Next Week: Brady, Brady, Brady!

"This is Safe Haven Refugee Camp. Can anyone hear me?

Hello? Is anyone out there?"

The Survivors

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A Cranberry Thanksgiving (Story Sunday)

As a young bride, I often tried, without success, to impress my new in-laws by hosting family gatherings and cooking for everyone. Their respect was very important to me and out of lovefor my husband, they always showed up. A year after we were wed, I sent out the invitations, declaring the whole clan must come for a Thanksgiving Feast like no other. I had a wonderful menu planned that included many dishes I had never made before and I set about it with my Betty crocker Cookbook and determination to make them remember the meal forever.

I spent 14 hours straight in the kitchen, placing each dish into a tightly sealed tupperware bowl the day before. I had planned to reheat the courses as we wanted them, spreading the meal out over hours, where I had various forms of entertainment planned. The house smelled like a buffet and all day long, I kept having to sweep my husband from the room to keep him out of the blue and green bowls growing higher and higher in the refrigerator.

Finally, it was time for the gathering and I hurried to get everything ready for the first course, which included a vegetable tray, pineapple shrimp tenders, and a homemade cranberry sauce salad. During this time, my in-laws were arriving, being greeted by my husband and settling in to enjoy all the great odors in the air. I served them a light wine and the first course right on time and my pride was evident in how I hovered and offered seconds.

Then it came time for the main course. Turkey giblet gravy over homemade stuffing and slabs of smoked turkey and russet potatoes with green beans and ham chunks. I reheated and brought it out on trays, watching anxiously as the first bites were taken. And there was silence.

Now, my husbands family liked me very much and would not hurt my feelings but my young husband, with half a bite still in his mouth, calmly asked if I had used cranberries in all of the meals. Everything tasted like the sharp berries and when I looked closer, I could see every dish had that vivid swirl of red. Somehow, the cranberry salad had bled into my other dishes.

I hurried to the kitchen to serve another course and was horrified to find that all the lids on my Tupperware bowls had come loose and a simple spill had ruined every dish I made. I immediately burst into tears and locked myself in the bathroom. When my husband and his snickering family pried me out, we went out to a Perkins restaurant for our Thanksgiving Feast. It tasted nothing like cranberries.

A few years later, I took my Betty crocker cookbook and Tupperware bowls back out of storage and tried again, with much more success but everyone in the family still laughs when someone mentions cranberries.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

"This is Safe Haven Refugee Camp. Can anyone hear me?

Hello? Is anyone out there?"

The Survivors

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Justice (Story Sunday)

Dedicated to all the animals suffering from mankind's indifference.

 "How much?"

"Almost 60,000 barrels a day."
"Worst in history."
"Won't matter. It's what insurance is for."
"It's what we're for."

 The voices carried easily in gusting shore winds and those listening unseen, felt the hate grow deeper in their hearts.

 
"We report it's not that bad, that it's breaking up, people start to relax. Stocks go back up."
"And then its business as usual, right?"
"Yep. Ain't nothing money won't buy."

Their snickers and indifference marked them as the enemy, even if the yellow vests and clipboards had not, and the investigators moved toward the narrow sea cave like foreign invaders surveying their loot.

"How much you think the insurance will cover?"

"Most. It's cheaper to pay premiums than to develop the technology to handle spills. British Petroleum is paid up for the next decade."
"Wish they'd pay those coastal fishermen so the reports would stop winding people back up."
"Me too."

The oil inspectors reached the cave as the next swell rushed in and their boots were covered in a thick layer of rainbow sludge.

"It's still coming in."

"It will for a long time. Remember to wipe those off before you head back."
"You too."
"Yeah. Don't want any proof it's gotten this far yet."

The men moved into the dim, sludge lined cave with uneasy glances and the sound of the water rushing in grew louder, hungry. They began to measure and collect samples and neither of them noticed the shadows getting closer as they talked.

"Guess the new cap’s holding."
"Pictures look good. You think they're real?"
"I doubt it. The government only shows people what it wants them to see. Once we say it's staying out there, the news will grow bored with it and find another story."
"Hard to hide all those bodies, though."
"It's just fish. The birds'll clean it up."
"But won't it be another big story?"
"No. In case you haven't noticed, there's no one on these beaches now. Tourism here is gone for a long time."
"Still, the residents have taken pictures and the camera crews fly over all the time."
"Won't matter. Money shuts people up. Just have to find the right price."
"Can't argue with that."

Between tides, the rising water levels in the narrow cave were unusual but the inspectors were trained in oil, not the ocean and the tugging, rainbow sludge was up to their knees before either of them noticed.

"Water's up. Let's hurry."
"Wonder if that has anything to do with the methane. Put it in the report."

Well paid, the two men stayed to finish their observations and collections and the water continued to slowly rise, rolling in but not going back out.

"Did you feel that?"

"What?"
"I’m not sure. Sort of like a vibration under my feet."
"Probably just the water. It's still coming up."
"Maybe but I'd swear..there it was again!"
"I didn't feel anything."
"Something moved by my foot!"
"Stop it."
"Really, I... what was that?"

Both men turned to see a shape under the hip high water, one that caused their mouths to dry and their hearts to thump. A shark fin.

"Back off, nice and easy."
"Don't move!"
"Look out!'
"Behind you!"
"Ahhh!"

The oil covered shark tossed his head viciously, reveling in the gush of fresh food, and then he was being pulled back by the stingray.

"Stop. There must be proof." Denied a much needed meal, the angry shark snapped at the ray and then whined in pain as the manta stung him brutally.

"Enough!' They both looked to the old, jellyfish floating in the oil stained water.

"Man is our enemy, not each other. Drag them out and the crabs will bring them to the shore so they can be found beside the black poison they unleashed." The huge Jelly was obeyed without argument and the water in the cave slowly lowered, allowing them to wash out with the wave.

"What comes next?" The Manta Ray asked the Jelly and neon lights of concentration flashed under the waves as the centuries old keeper of the water struggled to form thoughts through the rage.

"Call the whales, the orcas. Any that are left will come. We have to gather an army and drive man out of the oceans. After that, we’ll talk to those on land, make a deal if we can. Surely the air breathers are dying as fast as us."

"Can we fight so many?" The Jelly flashed uneasily.

"I don't know. Until now, our world has been unreachable but every day brings them closer to our homes, our families. If we don't fight back now, we may not be able to later and I would have justice!”