And jumped overboard.
Swimming hard, she grasped hold of the bobbing mass and heaved it around, trying to make sense of it. A face swiveled around.
“Dahl. Are you all right? Where’s Drake?”
“Hanging on to my coat tails. As always.”
As the current shifted Dahl around in the water a second face became visible, resting against the back of the other’s jacket.
“Well, you two look bloody comfy together,” Alicia mock-protested. “No wonder you didn’t shout out for rescue. Shall we give you another ten minutes or so?”
Drake’s shaking hand rose from the waters. “Not even one. I think I swallowed half the bloody ocean.”
“And I think we’re about to go under,” Dahl gasped a moment before the pilot’s seat drifted away and his head disappeared below the waters.
The Coastguard boat came as close as it dared. “Are they okay?” voices hollered.
Alicia waved. “They’re fine. Bastards are just messing about.”
Then Drake slipped under too.
“Umm,” Alicia stared. “Actually…”
CHAPTER FORTY NINE
In the aftermath the world adjusted, shocked by the near-miss horror of what had occurred, but sadly inured to it too. As the United States detailed back in the 1960s, it was only a matter of time before some terrorist detonated a nuclear bomb in one of the world’s major cities. They had even developed a document and reaction to it — National Response Scenario Number One.
If a more wounded, bruised, sore and complaining group of people assembled to debate the consequences and gloss over the near-misses of New York, then it was never acknowledged. This team, however, SPEAR and a few others, were contacted by the President, the Director of Homeland Security, and the Mayor of New York.
Alicia was always going to complain about it. “And all I really wanted was a call from Lawrence.”
“Fishburne?” Drake asked.
“Don’t be silly. Jennifer, of course.”
“Could she steal you away from me?”
Alicia ginned. “In a heartbeat.”
“Well, it’s always nice to know where you stand.”
“If you like I could write you a list of principal suitors.”
Drake waved a hand, still trying to come to terms with the kiss they had shared. It had happened right after a moment of great stress, a celebration of life, but it had stirred emotions, old emotions, inside him that he thought were long dead. As everything stood right now there were many other things to consider — Mai and Beau chief among them.
But life didn’t decelerate just for you, he thought. Though many expected it to, and great chances mostly came along but once. To miss them usually meant a lifetime of regret, of never knowing. A chance taken was never a chance lost.
Better to try and fail than to never try at all.
Alicia was as complex as a solar system, but even that was navigable. He switched his thoughts off for a moment, still physically and mentally weak from all the exertions of the day and, indeed, the last few weeks. Around him sat his friends, enjoying a sit-down meal inside one of New York’s best Italian restaurants. Agent Moore had rented the entire place out at Homeland’s expense, as a thank you to the team, and locked them inside.
“No matter what happens,” he said. “I don’t want you people rushing off to prevent it.”
Drake appreciated that.
And the team appreciated the fine food, the relaxed atmosphere, and the long break from such intense stress. The seats were plush, the room warm, the staff barely noticeable. Dahl had dressed in white shirt and black trousers, almost unrecognizable to Drake who was used to seeing him in combat gear. But then he had dressed similar, substituting the trousers for trusty Levis.
“That’s not the Bond look,” Dahl had pointed out.
“I’m not James Bond.”
“Then stop poncing about and trying to sound more sophisticated every time Alicia walks by. She already knows you’re just a Yorkshire tw—”
“I think it’s time you pissed off on vacation, pal. If you can’t decide where to go I’d be happy to knock you into next week.” He held up a fist.
“And there’s my thanks for saving your life.”
“Don’t remember it. And if I don’t remember it, it never happened.”
“Much like the time you matured.”
Beau and Mai sat next to each other, the Frenchman enjoying the food and speaking when spoken to; the Japanese woman looking out of place, caught between two worlds. Drake wondered what she really wanted and where she truly belonged. In some moments he saw a fire in her that prompted her to fight for him, in others a doubt that sent her silent, introspective. Certainly, the four of them couldn’t resolve anything in a day, but he saw something coming, clouding the horizon ahead.
Much like the nuclear explosion he witnessed yesterday.
Smyth and Lauren were now an item. Maybe the kiss between Drake and Alicia prompted them, or maybe the brush with annihilation. Either way, they weren’t wasting another day wondering. Hayden and Kinimaka sat together, and Drake wondered if he saw more than the meter gap between them, something with more significance. It had more to do with body language than anything, but then he was mentally fizzled out and put it down to weariness.
“To tomorrow,” he raised a glass, “and the next battle.”
Drinks were drained and the meal continued. It was after the main course had been devoured, and most sat back draped beneath a contented drowsiness, that Kenzie made a point of speaking in front of the entire group.
“And what of me?” she asked. “Is my fate so uncertain?”
Hayden shifted, the mantle of leadership coating her once more. “Well, I’ll be blunt with you, which I’m sure you’ll appreciate. There is nothing I’d like better than to keep you out of a jail cell, Kenzie, but I have to say — I can’t see it happening.”
“I could walk away.”
“I couldn’t stop you,” Hayden acknowledged. “And wouldn’t want to. But the crimes you have committed in the Middle East—” she made a face “—at the very least upset a great many powerful people. Some of them American.”
“Most likely the same men and women I procured other items for.”
“A good point. But not helpful.”
“Then I will join your team. Turn over a new leaf. Run alongside the blond gazelle that is Torsten Dahl. I am now yours, Hayden, if you will give me chance to work off my debt.”
The SPEAR team leader blinked rapidly as she took in Kenzie’s heartfelt statement. Drake choked on his water, for the second time in two days. “I never thought of Dahl as a gazelle. More a—”
“Don’t say it,” the Swede warned, looking slightly embarrassed.
Alicia watched the Israeli closely. “I’m not sure I want to work with this bitch.”
“Oh, I will be good for you, Myles. Keep you on those toes. I could teach you how to throw a punch that actually hurts.”
“I may also have to stick with you for now,” Beau spoke up. “With Tyler Webb in the wind and playing Tomb Raider, I have no other place to be.”
“Thanks,” Drake grunted. “We’ll think about it and mail you a very short letter of response.”
“Good people are always welcomed to this team,” Hayden told him. “So long as they play nicely with the rest of us. I’m sure Beau will be a great asset.”
“Well, I for one know he has a great asset,” Alicia said reflectively. “Though I’m not sure it would play nicely with the team.”
Some laughed and some didn’t. The night waxed and then waned and still, the soldiers who saved New York depressurized themselves among good company and good stories. The city itself celebrated with them, though the majority of its inhabitants never knew why. A sense of carnival saturated the air. In darkness, and then the rising dawn, life went on.