~ Lifeline ~
|
Winner in The Jeds, West Wing Fanfic Awards, 2003, in the following category: Outstanding Angst - 3rd place Title: Lifeline Author: Xanthe
Category: Slash.
Posted: 30th August, 2003 WARNING: This story features graphic scenes of torture and rape.
Lifeline Monday Afternoon
"Sir, do
you have a few moments? I really need to brief you on your meeting with
the Vietnamese ambassador which is in…" Leo glanced at his watch. "Two
minutes," he sighed.
Leo gazed
at him impassively, used to his friend's minor explosions as his way of
blowing off steam. "The problem is that the drugs are being smuggled in in
containers carrying shipments to legitimate US companies," he said when
Jed paused for breath. "But the Vietnamese *are* talking tough on this –
they genuinely want to crack down on it and they're asking for our help."
"Feeling
the pressure a bit today, huh?" Leo gave him a smile that Jed was sure he
reserved solely for him – it went straight to his heart via his groin and
he melted in response, as he always did. He and Leo had been playing this
little scenario for years; he'd get upset and vocal about something and
Leo would absorb his bad mood, and throw him a smile or make some comment
that would calm him down. It was a kind of shorthand they had, and he knew
he'd be lost without it. "Don't worry about it," Leo told him firmly.
"We'll see what Thuan wants, and then figure out where to go from there."
"Sir…"
Charlie poked his head around the door. "The Vietnamese ambassador is
here." Trahn Duc Thuan was taller than many of his compatriots – he had half a head on Leo, and a fraction more on Jed. His expression was affable enough as he shook Jed's hand, but the President sensed that the man in front of him was smart, and not afraid to stand up for his own agenda - which made him all the more aware of how inadequately briefed he was for this meeting. He did his best to hide that though, easily slipping into his usual Presidential mode of breezing bonhomie. The Ambassador shook Leo's hand and Jed offered the man a drink, which he refused. Jed sat down and looked expectantly at Leo, waiting for him to start the meeting, but his Chief of Staff, unusually for him, seemed preoccupied. He was still standing, gazing at his own hands, apparently lost in thought. Jed felt another wave of annoyance, his already bad mood worsening. "Leo?" He prompted. Leo seemed to come to, and his gaze travelled slowly from his hands over to where Jed and the Ambassador were seated, ready to conduct the meeting, but he made no move to join them. "Leo!" Jed bellowed, none too subtly. "Sir?" Leo looked blank, almost confused. Jed frowned and gestured with his head in the ambassador's direction. "Uh, yes…Ambassador Thuan, you're here to, uh…discuss your narcotics problem…I think," Leo said, sounding as if he wasn't entirely sure why any of them were here. He finally came over and sat down on the couch, facing the Ambassador. Jed shot him a glare as he sat down, to let him know that he hadn't appreciated being left hanging but Leo didn't even seem to be aware that Jed was in the room. His gaze was fixed on the Ambassador, and he was studying the man intently. Ah well, better late than never, Jed thought, glad he had finally got Leo's attention turned to the meeting. "Our problem in this area is your problem too, I think," Thuan pointed out, his eyes narrowing. "The heroin smuggled out of Vietnam ends up being sold to your children after all." Thuan gave a cold, hard kind of smile. "We face certain challenges in building a 21st century economy in a business culture rife with corruption. The will is there – but I'm sure you understand that that is often not enough," he said smoothly. Jed gazed at him thoughtfully. He'd been right; this guy clearly knew what he was talking about and what he wanted from this meeting – which was more than Jed felt he could say right now. "It would benefit both our countries if we could address this issue together," the Ambassador finished with another of those cool, charmless smiles. "Agreed," Jed said, glancing at Leo, but his Chief of Staff didn’t say a word. Usually Leo guided meetings such as this in his own discreet, subtle, inimitable way, especially when he knew that Jed hadn't been properly briefed, but right now Jed felt as if he was on his own. ""What did you have in mind?" Jed continued. "Excuse me, sir," Leo murmured. Jed looked at him, expecting him to cut into the discussion with some comment or other, but instead, much to his surprise, Leo got to his feet, and with a muttered, "Excuse me, Ambassador," in Thuan's direction, he left the room without another word. Jed gazed after him, absolutely dumbstruck. First he'd been shunted into this meeting without having the facts and figures at his fingertips, and now Leo was just abandoning him? Jed glanced back at the Ambassador and gestured to him to continue. He could at least find out what the man wanted. He didn't have to commit himself to agreeing to anything on this initial meeting – and later…later he'd give his Chief of Staff a damn good piece of his mind. Jed continued with the meeting for the next ten minutes, asking questions which he knew made it clear how inadequate his briefing had been, but without Leo he didn't have anyone to steer him away from the obvious pitfalls. He kept expecting his Chief of Staff to reappear at any second but when that didn't happen, Jed brought the meeting to a premature end and promised the Ambassador that he'd get back to him and schedule another meeting to discuss the matter further and in more depth in a couple of days. As soon as the Ambassador was out of the door, Jed strode into Leo's office, a thunderous expression on his face. He had a ton of questions he wanted answered and he wanted them answered *now*. He felt even more enraged when he found Leo sitting at his desk, gazing at some documents as if nothing had happened. "Leo!" He snapped, hurling himself into the room like a minor hurricane, propelled forward by the force of his own indignation. Leo jumped, as if had been miles away, and looked up, a dazed expression on his face. "What the hell was that about?" Jed demanded, coming into the room. "I wasn't even briefed, god damn it, Leo. I felt like a complete idiot! Where the hell did you go? What the hell did...?" He stopped in mid-tirade, his expression, manner and mood changing abruptly as he realized something was very wrong. "Leo, are you okay?" he asked; Leo was as white as a sheet, his hands were shaking, and he looked almost dazed.
"Yes…I'm
fine," Leo replied, pulling himself visibly together, but Jed wasn't
convinced for a second. "I'm sorry, sir. It was inexcusable of me to leave
the meeting like that." "He's sick," a voice piped up from the doorway. "Margaret!" Leo snapped, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "He just threw up in the bathroom. He shouldn't be here at all," Margaret said in a reproving tone. "He should go home."
"Margaret
has her spies everywhere," Leo growled. "Even, it would appear, the
bathroom; she had Josh follow me in there." "There's no need. I'm fine now. It must have been something I ate. I feel a lot better," Leo protested. "Well you look terrible," Jed told him frankly, his anger totally forgotten in the face of his worry about his friend's health. "Yes. You do," Margaret added pointedly from her vantage point by the door. "You almost knocked me over sprinting from the Oval Office to the bathroom. I was just worried – that's why I sent Josh after you." Leo shot Margaret what Jed could only describe as a vicious glare and she backed away from the doorway and disappeared into her own office. "I'm really fine," Leo said to Jed.
"Sure –
that's why your face is the same colour as your shirt," Jed told him in
the same reproving tone that Margaret had just used. Leo glanced down at
his white shirt, as if he couldn't remember what colour it was, and then
glanced back at Jed again, that slightly dazed expression returning to his
face. "Go, Leo. I've told the ambassador that we'll get back to him on
this. I'm sure Debbie can squeeze him into my schedule somewhere in the
next few days." "Oh god…you're going to throw up again, aren't you?" Jed got up, grabbed Leo's wastepaper basket, and thrust it under Leo's face just in time as Leo retched into it. Jed rubbed soothing circles on his friend's back, murmuring meaningless words of comfort as Leo heaved his guts out into the basket. He finished, finally, and rested there, breathing heavily, clutching the basket in his hands. "So, you're going to go home now, right?" Jed queried when Leo finally sat up again. "Yeah. I guess." Leo nodded weakly. "Good." Jed's hand came to rest, briefly, on Leo's hair, and he stroked gently. "Get some rest, Leo – and don't come back to work until you're feeling better. I'll call you later. Margaret!" Leo's secretary appeared in the doorway at the speed of light, leading Jed to believe that she had in fact been standing just outside it the entire time. "Call a car for Leo – he's not driving in this condition," Jed told her. She nodded quickly and hurried off, shooting a concerned glance at Leo as she went. Jed walked over to Leo's coat stand and retrieved his friend's coat. "Can you stand?" He asked, returning to where Leo was sitting, still hunched over the basket, his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat. "Sure," Leo said – over optimistically as it turned out. As soon as he got to his feet he began to sway; Jed threw the coat on the desk and grabbed his friend, holding him up firmly until Leo got his bearings, then bundled him into his coat and buttoned it up for him as if he were a small child. It was a measure of how ill Leo had to be feeling that he didn't protest and knock his hands away, Jed thought to himself. Instead Leo leaned on his friend and accepted his help, his face almost deathly white in colour. Jed was seriously worried now, but Leo assured him it was just food poisoning and in the end there was nothing Jed could do except escort Leo to the door of the building and hover uselessly as Leo climbed inside the waiting car. Leo gave him a wan smile as he settled in his seat, and Jed watched the car go, an anxious frown creasing his forehead. Leo was rarely sick – the man had the constitution of an ox, and even several years of alcohol and substance abuse hadn't damaged the iron lining of his stomach. Jed could only remember a few occasions over the years when Leo had thrown up, and they had all been related to alcohol. Jed watched until the car was out of sight, and then turned and wandered back into the building again, still frowning. Sure, it probably *was* just food poisoning and yet…he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with his friend – something felt very wrong indeed. ***** February 1970 January 6, 1970
Dear Leo, Leo, I'm on a little cloud of happiness right now, as you can probably tell, but I'm worried about you. I haven't seen you since last June and I dunno if there's a problem with the post but I don't hear from you very often. It's been weeks since I last got a letter from you. Mainly I just hope you're okay. I know your mom would let me know if anything had happened, but I worry, Leo, as you well know, so for god's sake put me out of my misery and drop me a goddamn line! "Hey, what are you reading?" Leo glanced up to see Franco Morelli, a tall, dark-haired, good looking pilot looming over him. "Get out of my light will you, Morelli," he groused amiably. "You're too fucking tall. Are they sending us freakin' giants or something these days?" "Yeah, when they realized you short assed guys don't fight so good they sent us tall guys on over here to bail you fuckers out," Morelli grinned at him. "Oh yeah?" Leo raised an amused eyebrow. He liked Morelli – the kid was only a few years younger than him but he made Leo feel old and god knows he was only 25. He liked the younger man's relaxed, laid back attitude though; hell, he envied it. He wasn't laid back; Jed often teased him that he'd been born old, and the plain truth was that he felt older than a lot of the men out here. He'd been used to taking responsibility from a young age – he figured he became a man the day his father blew his brains out with a shotgun, leaving Leo to take care of his mom and sisters, and that innate sense of responsibility had only gotten more pronounced during his time in the Air Force. Most of the new guys they sent out here were cocky and full of themselves, and Morelli was no exception, but he wasn't very good at hiding how shit scared he was sometimes too – hell, they were all shit scared sometimes – and Leo had taken him under his wing. He liked the fact that Morelli bantered with him in a way that reminded him a little of Jed. Some of the new guys were too over-awed by his reputation to answer him back but Morelli gave as good as he got. Leo knew his reputation preceded him; he was one of the old hands, and he had a formidable record as a fighter pilot. Mainly though, Leo knew he was legendary among the new pilots for still being alive. It was a harsh truth that the most dangerous time was the first few months – if you made it through that then you got enough fighting experience to improve your chances of getting out of the war alive. If you didn't…well, Leo knew the statistics, and he'd seen more green young officers die than he cared to think about. He sincerely hoped Morelli wouldn't be one of them; the young man had only been out here a couple of weeks but Leo liked him.
"Your
girlfriend write you, Captain?" Morelli peered over his shoulder but Leo
folded the letter and showed the young Lieutenant the photo Jed had sent
instead. "Who's this? Your brother?" Morelli asked, looking at the picture
of Jed cradling the tiny baby in his arms. Leo shook his head, grinning.
"A boy or
a girl?" Morelli asked, smiling goofily as he looked at the photo. "She's gorgeous. Your friend is a lucky man," Morelli told him sincerely. "Yeah. She is gorgeous isn't she? It isn't surprising – her mom and her dad are both pretty good looking." Leo took back the photo and gazed at it again, unable to tear his eyes away. Jed looked so happy – his dark hair was flopping into his eyes, and he had this ridiculously ecstatic expression on his face as he tenderly held his first born child. "Yeah," Leo repeated again, savouring the picture. He had needed this right now, needed to be reminded of normal, everyday life, and how good it could be. It gave him something to strive for, something to look forward to. One day, he'd wear that same expression on his face – he was sure of it. One day he'd have a kid or two of his own and experience all the emotions Jed must be feeling right now. God, how he had needed to get this letter; the mail had been screwed up since Christmas, and anyway, he knew he hadn't been a very good correspondent of late. He could hardly expect Jed to write him if he rarely replied, and yet Jed did, every week, without fail, more often sometimes if he had the time or some piece of news he particularly wanted to share with his friend. Leo wished he knew how to reply to these letters – he treasured each and every single one of them and devoured them immediately when they arrived but his moods had become dark these past few months as this war had made him soul sick and weary to the core. Maybe it was partly his own fault; he'd completed his 100 missions but had chosen to stay on for another 100, not because he relished the battle, or even because he believed in what they were doing out here, but because he knew how valuable his experience was. He'd struggled with himself over it, but in the end he'd viewed it as his duty – he had the experience to survive where a green young pilot wouldn't, and he could impart all he'd learned to the younger pilots in an attempt to help them stay alive. However the longer he was out here, fighting this war, the more he sensed a gulf opening up between himself and Jed. Their lives were taking them in such different directions. He was mired out in this hellhole while Jed was moving forward, getting married, having a kid, and taking on all the new responsibilities of parenthood. Leo worried that their different life experiences would make them strangers to each other, and they'd lose the connection that Leo valued above all others in his life. "You ready to go, old man?" Morelli asked, cutting through his morose musings, and Leo reluctantly put the photo away in his pocket, and fastened his flight suit at the neck. "Yeah, little boy, I'm ready," Leo teased back, and they strode out to the waiting planes together. It was a routine enough bombing mission. Leo still found it hard to believe that actually taking a F-105 Thunderchief out into the air and dropping bombs could ever be called routine, but as far as it went, this was it. There were plenty of things Leo had grown to dislike about his job, but climbing into the Thud wasn't one of them. He loved the machine like he had loved the old Chevy he'd driven back during his college days. He loved being enclosed in the cockpit, feeling the hard metal and plastic of the instruments under his hands, and hearing the low thrumming of the healthily turning engine. Leo had become familiar with his plane and relied on it to save his life every time he flew. He felt at one with the machine – when the canopy closed, it was just him and the Thud, and the machine became an extension of his body. He knew every single thing it was capable of, and it responded, unerringly, to his every command. He thought that was maybe why he was still alive when so many weren't – he had a feel for the Thud that so many young pilots never had a chance to acquire before they were shot down. He had a gift for flying this machine, and had picked it up a feel for it fast enough to survive when so many others hadn’t, and, even though he was weary of this war, and his part in fighting it, Leo could never suppress the thrill he felt whenever he climbed into the cockpit. Leo was mission commander of the four planes in his flight and he'd appointed himself as Morelli's wingman, the old hand keeping an eye out for the green pilot. They refuelled over northern Laos and then started their runs into North Vietnam. Leo got an adrenalin rush every time – the Thud was the fastest low-level fighter plane in the world, able to break the sound barrier in a straight line run, and however much he hated this war, he loved flying this plane. They went into Hanoi over Thud Ridge, going in low to drop their bombs, and then pulled up to regroup for the trip home. Leo checked that his flight was all safe – they were being hit hard by anti-aircraft fire and it hadn't been an easy run. If a plane got loose from its flight then the enemy would go after that single plane and pick it off so joining back up with the group was crucial, but he only counted two other Thuds – Morelli hadn't got back. Leo glanced around the skies anxiously for the missing Thud, and was relieved when he saw Morelli's plane limping back to join the flight. "You okay, Morelli?" he yelled.
"Yeah…I
took a few hits…I'm okay though," the younger man replied. "I'm not going to get the altitude to refuel. What the fuck am I going to do, Captain?" Morelli yelled, panicking. "Hold on," Leo replied, as calmly as he could. He ordered the other planes to return without them, and wheeled back to keep pace with Morelli. They were in serious trouble now and Leo knew it. His own plane was undamaged, and he had enough fuel to get safely back but he wasn't going to leave Morelli. If he stayed with the other pilot then he could protect him from attack from anti- aircraft fire, surface to air missiles and the MiGs that had been chasing them from Hanoi. If he left Morelli then he was a sitting duck – as good as dead. "You're buying the drinks when we get back, Morelli," Leo said as they flew, trying to ease the tension. "Yeah, yeah. The way you drink, Captain, I'll need to get a fucking loan," Morelli groused. "Aw, can't you keep up with the big boys?" Leo teased, checking the skies around them all the time. They were doing fine until they ran into some anti-aircraft fire over the border between North and South Vietnam. Leo took his plane into a spin, avoiding the triple-A as it peppered the air around him. Yet again, his sharp hand/eye co-ordination and the bond he had with the machine that was protecting him saved his ass, and he emerged from a sky full of shrapnel to see clear daylight on the other side. He glanced around, just in time to see Morelli's plane slowly disintegrating behind him. Leo turned his plane and frantically searched the skies – and was relieved when he saw a tiny figure parachuting down to the ground; Morelli had ejected in time before his plane went down…but he was going to land somewhere in the South, which, while better than ending up in the North, still put him in danger from the people who had been firing on them in the first place. Leo called for a mid-air refuel and decided on a RESCAP mission. He called for a helicopter to go down and retrieve Morelli and set about turning his own plane into a target to draw the anti-aircraft fire away from the rescue chopper. It was a risky tactic, but Leo had done it a couple of times before; in his experience the young pilots they sent out here didn't get to be old men of 25 like himself unless you looked out for them, and besides, he liked Morelli, so he felt this was personal. There was a spate of heavy firing from the surface and Leo's heart sank as he saw the rescue chopper go down, in a mass of blazing fire. He barely had time to register his dilemma of what to do next when something exploded against the side of his plane and the healthily chugging engine gave a wail of distress and began plummeting towards the ground. Leo reacted instantly, knowing he only had a few seconds to get out before he went down with his Thud. He triggered the ejection mechanism and almost lost consciousness as he was flung out of the plane at great speed. Next thing he knew he was parachuting through the air, away from the burning remnants of his plane as it disintegrated beneath him. Before he knew it, the ground was rushing up to meet him; he got tangled in some trees on the way down, leaving him with no choice but to cut his way out of his badly ripped parachute with his knife, and he fell the last ten or twelve feet onto the ground, landing awkwardly. He gasped in agony as he thudded onto the hard earth, and realized, just before he lost consciousness, that there was blood seeping from a shrapnel wound in his left shoulder that burned like hell, and he'd twisted his back during his forcible ejection from the plane. He came to a few minutes later, groggy and disoriented. This was the first time he'd been shot down, and he felt a momentary pang for the loss of the plane that had kept him safe for so long before reality kicked in. There was a fierce battle being waged in the skies overhead, and Leo doubted they'd send another rescue chopper into that. The other Thuds up there were desperately trying to draw enemy fire to enable their grounded friends to get moving into safe territory but even so, he had a long walk ahead of him. Leo stowed the remnants of his chute and his helmet and began doing just that, trying to ignore both the pain in his shoulder and the deep, agonizing ache in his back. His heart sank as he saw the planes overhead slowly turn and make their way back to base, leaving him alone out here. He wondered where Morelli was but there was no point in looking for him – they'd both have to try and make their own way to one of the US patrols on the ground and hope they didn't run into the VC or the North Vietnamese army on the way. He didn't have a clue where he was, but he was essentially an optimist – he knew what he was doing, and he could think on his feet. All he needed was a big chunk of luck and he'd make it back to base safely. He thought about Jed as he trudged through the jungle, the night falling around him. When he got home, the first thing he'd do was take out that letter Jed had sent him and read it through from beginning to end, before penning a reply – it had been too long since he'd last written, and, having so closely escaped death, Leo made a resolution to be a better correspondent in future. That thought kept him going as darkness fell around him. His survival training had taught him to move at night and stay under cover during the day and he continued for as long as he could, trying to ignore the agonizing shooting pains in his back and the burning pain in his shoulder, but finally he knew he had to stop and rest. He was in shock, both from the battle and the constant pain, and he knew he needed to get his breath back before continuing through the inhospitable terrain. He found some cover, and lay down, giving a hiss of pain as his back protested. He stared up through the trees, into the dark night sky, stunned, trying to take in the enormity of what had happened to him. He had been expecting – well, not quite a milk run, but another mark on his hat and a couple of rounds of boilermakers back at base; he hadn't been expecting to see Morelli go down, and he sure as hell hadn't been expecting to go down himself. His job had been the adrenaline highs of flying his plane on missions ranging from the routine to the dangerous – he'd never had to deal with this kind of physical hardship before, to say nothing of the sheer terror that the change in his circumstances induced. Leo thought of Jed, taking care of his new baby many miles away, with no idea of what had happened to his old friend and lover, and he closed his eyes, wanting desperately to be home. He wasn't sure how long he slept, but he woke suddenly, just before dawn, to find a gun pressed against his forehead - and realised that the luck he had been counting on had just run out. ***** Tuesday Morning "Leo – I thought you weren't coming in this morning," Jed said with a frown as he poked his head around Leo's office door to find his Chief of Staff seated at his desk, working. "No, you told me I wasn't coming in this morning – I said I was and I did," Leo replied. He looked a lot better than he had the day before at least, Jed thought. He had called Leo the previous evening and had been assured that his friend was recovering but he remained unconvinced; he still felt that something wasn't quite right, but he was unable to put his finger on it. His friend seemed guarded and their telephone conversation the previous evening had been short and brusque. Jed shook off the feeling – Leo was sitting here, right in front of him, looking as right as rain, so his Leo-radar was probably just off. "Hey – are you busy this evening?" Jed asked, plunking himself down on Leo's couch. It was early, and even Margaret wasn't in yet; Jed liked it when they had the place to themselves – he felt they could be *them*, and relax a little. "I don't think so. Why?" Leo removed his glasses and glanced at Jed questioningly.
"I've
been stood up." Jed grimaced. Leo raised an eyebrow and Jed gave a heavy
sigh and began to elaborate. "I had this surprise meal planned for Abbey,"
he said. "I've been…well, kind of short tempered lately…"
"So, I
organized this special meal for her to smooth things over – I discussed
the menu with Rene in some detail…"
Jed fixed
him with a firm glare. "Will you let me finish?"
"I made
sure he'd be serving all her favourite foods, set aside an entire evening
in my schedule for some uninterrupted downtime, and…" "How did you know?" Jed asked in an astonished tone. "And don't you dare give me that 'I know everything' line. It may be true but it's *annoying*, Leo." "It was just a wild guess," Leo told him, that grin tugging at the corners of his mouth again. "Sometimes you are just so smug," Jed complained. "And you're very predictable," Leo retorted. "Hmm, well, as it turns out she's not only not free but she isn't even going to be in town so I'm stuck with a massive feast, carefully selected for its more, uh, aphrodisiac properties," Jed grinned, "and nobody to eat it with." He did his best to look mournful, rejected and abandoned in the hope that it would soften Leo's notoriously hard heart. "So, what will we be eating then?" Leo said with a resigned sigh. "You'll come?" Jed gave a delighted grin. "Sure. I don't mind being second on your list of people to lavish exotic meals on," Leo said, with a wolfish grin.
"Exotic,
*romantic* meals, Leo," Jed corrected him. "There'll be candles and
everything – and I'll instruct Rene to set up the table in one of the
guest bedrooms so you might as well plan on staying the night." "Yeah, well, I'll just say, 'pot, kettle and black' and leave it at that," Leo replied, putting on his glasses and glancing back at his work. "Are you sure you'll be up to an exotic meal after yesterday?" Jed asked, getting up. "Sure. It was nothing. I'm over it." Leo waved a nonchalant hand in the air.
"Okay –
oh, I spoke to Debbie and she re-scheduled the Vietnamese ambassador for
Friday at 4 – she'll get Margaret to put it in your diary."
Jed gazed
at him. "Sure you're okay?" "No – just…nothing." Leo shrugged, slipping it into his pocket. "Okay." Jed nodded and went back to his office. At least Leo hadn't figured out that the meal thing had been a ruse. He wanted to spend some time alone with his old friend – Leo's health scare a few months previously had been a big wake up call to the President, and Jed had decided that from now on he wasn't going to take any chances where Leo's welfare was concerned. He had Abbey to look out for him but Leo didn't have anyone; Jordan was too new in his life for her to have assumed that role, so Jed figured it was down to him to make sure that his old friend and lover was okay. Maybe if they were alone together, and had a chance to really talk, he'd find out why Leo had that shadowed look in his eyes. ***** 1970 Leo lay on the ground, trying hard to remember to breathe, as the VC surrounded him. He put his hands slowly on his head, making it clear he wasn't attempting to reach for a weapon, and then waited, his heart in his mouth. It would be so easy for them to just pull that trigger and then he'd die out here, in the jungle, alone save for these strangers. They'd probably just leave his body here – strip his uniform and boots and anything valuable, and dump his corpse to rot. He might never be found. He knew guys that had happened to; guys who just disappeared after being shot down. Maybe he'd be one of those guys whose personal effects were boxed up and sent back home, who were never spoken about again because everyone was scared the bad luck would rub off on them. The VC officer was shouting at him but Leo couldn't understand what he was saying. He was nudged to his feet and stood up straight, telling them his name, rank, and serial number in what he hoped were calm tones, designed to defuse the situation. The man glared at him and spoke again. Leo shook his head, and repeated what he'd said. He was half way through reciting his serial number when his captor punched him hard on the jaw without warning. Leo sagged to the ground, and tried to protect himself as best he could as his captors kicked him several times. They stripped off his survival vest, watch, and the small, gold St Christopher medallion which had been a gift from his Mom and which he wore around his neck – these items were seized like bounty and handed around, and then his arms were bound tightly behind his back. He was dazed by the time they dragged him to his feet, and he lost track of the time as he was half marched, half dragged through the jungle. Next thing he knew he was thrown into the back of a truck with hands still tied behind him, his jaw streaked with his own dried blood. He tried to roll over in order to relieve the knifing pain in his back, but one of his captors misinterpreted his movement and shoved the butt of his rifle at him. He felt his head snap back and heard a sharp cracking sound…and after that everything went black. Leo regained consciousness only briefly during the next few hours. Whenever he woke, the various aches in his body combined to send him back into a fitful, half-dazed slumber. Then the first tendrils of light began to heat the truck and he woke again to find his cheek crushed up against someone's boot and a rifle pointed perilously close to his head. He closed his eyes and tried to remember his training, tried not to think about the reality of having been captured by the VC. He knew the prison camps around here were likely to be makeshift and brutal. The only good thing about landing in the South was that if he wasn't marched immediately over the border he might stand some small chance of escaping and being picked up by friendly forces. A little while later the truck came to a rumbling halt and Leo was dragged out of the back, pulled into a rundown complex of small buildings, hauled along a filthy, rancid smelling hallway, and thrown into a dark room at the end of it. Someone bent over him and cut the ropes on his arms, and then the door clanged shut behind him and he breathed a sigh of relief that for now, at least, they were going to leave him alone. He lay face down on the cold floor for a few moments, winded from the journey and the various blows that had been landed on him since his capture. He thought he was alone, so he jumped, startled, when he heard someone clear his throat. He glanced up, blearily, trying to focus as the room swam around him, and a tall, lanky figure came into view. "Captain?" A voice whispered. "Mo…" His throat was too dry to say the name so he swallowed and tried again. "Morelli?" He managed to croak, still trying to focus on the hazy figure beside him. Morelli was lying on his back, his shoulders resting against the wall. "Yeah. It's me. You look like shit, man," Morelli told him.
"Believe
me, that's nothing to how I fucking feel," Leo replied. "Could you help me
up?" "Did they…?" Leo began but Morelli stopped him, shaking his head. "It was my own fucking dumbass fault – I did it on landing. I blacked out when I bailed from the plane and still wasn't with it when I hit the ground – hell, I misjudged where the fucking ground was." Morelli gave a grimace. "It didn't take them long to find me – I could barely move." "Shit." Leo gazed at the broken leg bleakly. Morelli had to be a lot of pain, but he didn't think asking about it would help so he just took a deep breath and dragged himself up by his arms, hissing as the movement sent a wave of pain through his shoulder and back. "How about you, Captain? Are you okay?" Morelli nodded in the direction of Leo's shoulder and he glanced down to see that his flight suit had been ripped open and was soaked with dried, encrusted blood. "Shrapnel wound," he grunted, glancing around. They were in a small, dank cell, with no windows and no lighting, although some light managed to creep in through cracks in the walls, doors and ceiling so it was just bright enough to see. The place stank of urine, and there wasn't any bedding either – not so much as a blanket. Leo hoped this would only be temporary accommodation. Having taken his bearings, he crawled over to Morelli's leg to inspect it further. His head ached so much that he thought it might fall off his shoulders but he knew that his own condition was far less serious than the younger man's. He crouched beside Morelli and gazed at the leg; it was a bad, open fracture – he could see part of the bone sticking out of the skin - and in conditions like this, and without urgent medical treatment, Leo thought it was likely that the Lieutenant would lose it. "Is there a doctor in this place?" Leo asked. "I have no idea. They sure as hell haven't sent him along if there is." Morelli shrugged, his face sickly green in hue. "Have you seen anyone?" "No. Only the guys who brought me here." Morelli shook his head. "Captain…please…is there anything you can do…?" He gestured with his head in the direction of his leg. "It hurts so fucking much." Leo took a deep breath. "Okay…look, I'm no doctor, Franco - I've had the same basic first aid training that you have - but I can try and pull your leg out so that the bone pulls back into the skin." "Please – just do it, Captain," Morelli begged. "Please." Leo nodded, and examined the leg thoughtfully. The only thing he could do was to reset the bone as close to where it was as possible. It wasn't the best solution, but it was a stop gap. He wished he had some water to wash the area but he didn't and he doubted they'd be given any in the near future either, so he'd just have to go ahead without. He put his hands on the leg, and gazed at Morelli.
"Ready?"
He said. "On the count of three. One…" He didn't wait until he reached
three and pulled the leg out on the count of two instead – a trick his
father had taught him when he was a small boy with plasters that needed
tearing off grazed knees. Morelli gave a low yowl of pain, but Leo had
managed to reset the bone and, while it still had to hurt, Leo knew it
would be a little less agonising now. He used his handkerchief to tie a
makeshift bandage around the wound, but it wasn't anything more than a
temporary measure. Morelli's face was white as a sheet, and his eyes were
closed, sweat beading his forehead. Leo wasn't sure if he'd passed out or
was just coping with the aftermath of his none too gentle first aid
treatment but he decided to leave the other pilot alone. He glanced down instead
at the shrapnel wound in his own shoulder, and gently probed it with his
fingers, wincing slightly as he did so. It was painful, but there was
nothing left in there now that he could find. There wasn't anything he
could do so he decided to just try and forget about it. Then he slowly
crawled over to the wall and came to rest against it with a grateful sigh,
glad not to be moving any more. "Are you okay, Lieutenant?" Leo asked. "You said three," Morelli whispered.
Leo gave
a faint smile. "I lied," he replied. "How you doing?" They were silent for a moment, and then Morelli spoke again. "Captain, what will they do to us?" He asked. "I've heard stories…seen the guys they've paraded…y'know, for propaganda." Morelli turned to face him, and Leo was reminded again that even though the Lieutenant was only a few of years younger than him, he hadn't been fighting this particular war for very long. He looked like such a kid and those two or three years made all the difference. Leo knew he'd grown up these past few years, had gone through experiences that had changed him radically from the idealistic, enthusiastic young man he'd been when he'd first arrived out here to fight this war. Now, he felt cynical, world weary and infinitely old compared to this 22 year old kid sitting beside him. "Yeah," he agreed. "I've seen those pictures too." He had received the same training in survival, evasion, resistance and escape that Morelli had, and they had both been briefed on what to expect if captured, but he figured that in his semi-delirious state Morelli might well not remember some of the details of those briefings. "Those guys didn't give their confessions willingly. They were tortured," Morelli added, shivering. Leo didn't reply. "Do you think they'll torture us?" Morelli asked. Leo shrugged. "I think they'll interrogate us," he replied. "Is there a difference?" Morelli asked. Leo shook his head. "I don't know, Morelli, but it sure as fuck doesn't do us any good thinking about it."
"No."
Morelli shivered again and Leo knew the kid had to be in shock from his
broken leg. "Well that's okay because I don't know a damn thing," Morelli muttered.
"Sure you
do," Leo grunted. "And if they ask, you should tell 'em," he said. They'd
been given instructions on this subject too, but he doubted Morelli
remembered that either in his current state.
"Franco –
that leg of yours isn't going to mend itself. You might have already lost
it," Leo told him, as gently as he could. "If they offer you medical
treatment as a price for information then you should take it…don't tell
them anything important – just give away the small, stupid stuff." "Where are you from?" He asked, trying to change the subject.
"New
York." "Yeah. They have their own restaurant. I used to wait tables there." "Bet they're proud of you," Leo commented. He wasn't entirely sure his own Mom and sisters were proud of him. Mostly, like Jed, he suspected they'd have preferred it if he hadn't come out here to do this, and recently he had been thinking they were right.
"Yeah."
Morelli grinned. "You?" "And that friend of yours? The one with the baby?" Morelli asked. That reminded Leo of Jed's letter and he reached into his pocket and fished it out, delighted that it had survived intact.
"He lives
in New Hampshire." Leo shrugged. Leo gave a faint grin, and caressed Jed's letter with his fingers. "Oh yeah, Lieutenant. Too many to fucking count," he replied.
The day wore on and there was nothing to do except sleep, talk – and worry about what was going to happen to them. Morelli's dark head fell against Leo's shoulder, although whether the younger man was sleeping from shock or exhaustion Leo wasn't sure. He sat there, trying to come to terms with this sudden reversal in his fortunes. Like Morelli, he'd heard all the stories about what the VC did to captured American soldiers, and he knew their situation wasn't good. He wondered whether this was it – whether he'd die out here, so far away from home. What would his Mom say when she was told he was dead, he wondered, unable to stop himself imagining the worst. And his sisters. And Jed? Leo shivered, easily able to imagine Jed's reaction…and yet, and yet…his friend had a wife, and a new baby – how big a dent would his death seriously have on him? Sure, he'd be upset for awhile, but he'd get over it. Leo didn't kid himself that he meant as much to Jed as Jed meant to him. Glancing at Morelli to make sure he was asleep, Leo opened Jed's letter and began to read. I'm working on a research grant right now. There's a chance of a job in London at the LSE but I don't want to talk about it too much in case it doesn't happen. It wouldn't be for awhile yet anyway – not until next year – but it's pretty much my dream job as it'd give me the opportunity to do my doctorate and get some real research work done – maybe even work towards a book. To be honest, we could do with the money. Abbey can't work right now for obvious reasons and I need to do something or we'll be in trouble. I lied earlier about the heating. It didn't break down - we just couldn't afford to pay the last bill. Abbey's threatened to wheedle some money out of Dad but I refuse to let her so we had a pretty big argument about it. But damnit, Leo, I feel I should be able to provide for my own family and I'll be damned if I go running to him. I'm sure he'd give us the money but there would be strings attached, and I don't want to have to deal with any of that shit. Leo sighed and shifted slightly, trying to lose himself in the contents of the letter so that he could forget about his current predicament. He wished Jed didn't have to worry about money - Leo had always had a way of making money stretch - Jed called it a gift and Leo didn't think he was accusing him of being tight, just very good at managing his finances. Since he'd been in 'Nam there had been little enough to spend his salary on except liquor, and while he'd done his fair share of drinking, he'd saved up a good deal of his salary. He always sent a generous amount home to his Mom and sisters every month, but there was enough for him to send some to Jed too – if he'd accept it, which Leo knew he wouldn't. I wish you could have been here at Christmas. Abbey was as big as a house by then (she just leaned over my shoulder and slapped me around the head for that comment – something for which I'm blaming you, my friend) and I refused to allow her in the kitchen. She thinks I was being gallant but really it's just that I think my cooking is better than hers. It was just the two of us on Christmas day – Mom got snowed in and Jon is busy with some girl he's found. We asked Dad but he refused – I gotta admit I was relieved about that – I always feel on the outside of his and Abbey's mutual admiration society and I know the money issue would've come up. The one thing really missing was you – d'you remember Christmas last year? You brought that huge turkey and we didn't realize until Christmas morning that it wouldn't fit in the oven? We spent an hour hacking it down to a manageable size while you kept pouring eggnog down our throats? I swear we were all drunk off our asses by the time we ate the damn thing – Abbey keeps telling everyone who'll listen that I'm allergic to eggnog but I think she just doesn't like how drunk I get on it. Anyway, Abbey and I had a quiet Christmas this year preparing for Lizzie's arrival, but we both missed you and the fun we had last year. I hope that wherever you spent Christmas you had a great time and raised a glass of eggnog for us as we did for you. I thought you might call – I'm guessing it's pretty hard for you out there right now but I want you to know we missed you. Leo gave a guilty sigh as he read that. He could have called – but he hadn't wanted to remember the previous year so he'd spent most of Christmas day in a bar getting completely plastered and would have been too incoherent to have called Jed in any case. Leo, there's some sappy stuff coming up, so you might want to have a drink before reading on. At the risk of upsetting that unsentimental, unromantic heart of yours, I want you to know that I think about you every day. It's particularly hard at the moment – having Lizzie and wanting desperately to show her off you. I think about you flying those damn planes. It still freaks me out that you can do that y'know! Maybe one day you'll take me out flying? I'd love that – and you'd love showing off how cool you are behind the controls. Leo grinned. There was something so quintessentially Jed about that statement – always reaching for the sky even though Leo knew for a fact that the reality of being up in the air in a small plane would freak his friend out. Jed was big hearted, kind, and smarter than most people he'd ever met put together, but he was secretly afraid of speed, enclosed spaces, and anything that looked like it might be even vaguely capable of whisking him off into outer space. Leo doubted he'd be able to get Jed to even sit in the cockpit of a Thud, let alone go for a flight in one. "Hey…" Morelli murmured sleepily beside him, and Leo folded the letter and slipped it back into his pocket. "Did I miss anything?" Morelli asked. "Nah. They haven't even looked in on us to see how we like the accommodations," Leo told him with a wry grin. "Which is a shame because I'd like to complain about the lack of bedding and a sea-view. Maybe we could ask them to move us to another room?" Morelli gave a snort of amusement. "How long's it been?" He said. Leo sighed. "Not nearly as long as it seemed – probably no longer than an hour." "Is that all?" Morelli bit down hard on his lip. "You were reading your friend's letter?" He asked. "Yeah." Leo nodded.
"He
sounds like a good friend. You miss him?" "I write to my mom but not very often – she complains but what can you do?" Morelli said, spreading his hands in a very Italian gesture. Leo grinned. "Yeah. I don't write so much either," he said. "Jed…he writes every week." He shook his head. "I used to write back about the same…but not lately." "Why?" Leo turned to find Morelli's brown eyes shining feverishly in the semi-dark of their dank, unlit cell. "I don't know what to say to him any more," he murmured. "Me and Jed – we never had any trouble talking – hell, he's the kind of person who never shuts up." He grinned, promising himself that he would never again roll his eyes at one of Jed's long-winded trivia-fests. If he got out here alive, he'd gladly spend the rest of his life listening to Jed talk - if it meant he'd get to see his friend again, to be with him, and talk to him, and make love to him. "If you get out of here…" Morelli gazed at him, his forehead glistening with sweat. "Would you tell him about this?" Leo stared at him for a long time, wondering what Jed's reaction would be to learning he'd been shot down and captured, not wanting to even think about the look that he knew he'd see in Jed's expressive blue eyes. "I don't know," he murmured. "I really don't know." ***** Tuesday Evening
Jed left
the office at 7.30 to make sure that everything was in place for the
evening, giving Leo stern instructions not to be late. The bedroom looked
beautiful when he arrived – the table was set up and there were a few
discreet candles burning. Jed had waited until the last minute to tell the
chef that Abbey had been called away and therefore he was dining with Leo
instead – it wasn't the first time this had happened and nobody thought
anything of it. Jed lifted the lid on one of the bright silver platters to
inspect the contents and took a little taste – chicken in an oyster sauce,
perfectly cooked, with a consistency that melted in the mouth; he couldn't
have done better himself he thought with a satisfied smile – well, maybe
that wasn't *quite* true as he always thought he could do better himself,
but even so, it was pretty good. He was interrupted in this food reverie
by a pair of hands sneaking around his waist, and he straightened,
startled. "You were too busy trying to find something wrong with the dinner so you could tell me how much better you'd have cooked it," Leo pointed out, not removing his hands from Jed's waist. Jed grinned at him over his shoulder. "You know me far too well," he grinned. "Is it my imagination or are you actually early? Usually I have to bribe you to attend anything approaching a romantic meal and where…" He disengaged himself from Leo's grasp and gazed at his friend enquiringly, "…is your cell phone? The cell phone that's usually stuck to your hand so you can receive all those last minute but incredibly urgent calls and to pander to your constant need to be updated by Margaret every 2 seconds?"
"My
cellphone's in my pocket," Leo told him, rolling his eyes. "That joke is SO old. Anyway, you'll be pleased to know that my cell is switched off." He grinned at Jed, then reached out, pulled the President close, and delivered a firm kiss to his friend's mouth. Jed went, willing but utterly startled. This wasn't usual Leo-like behaviour. Usually Leo liked to make a huge fuss about having to leave the office early, the over-abundance of candles, and anything else he could gripe about, before they settled into a nice meal, some civilized conversation, and, finally, bed. Bed didn't usually come first – they were a long way past the need to jump on each other the moment they were alone.
"What was
that for?" Jed asked as the kiss ended. "Not that I'm complaining but…" "Hmm." Jed gazed at Leo, puzzled. "Okay," he said uncertainly, thinking it had been a long time since Leo had spoken to him like this. There was a distinct twinkle in his friend's blue eyes that made him tingle all over like he was 17 years old again.
"C'mere."
Leo said, and he pulled Jed back for another kiss, his hands exploring
Jed's body thoroughly as he opened his friend's lips with his tongue and
plundered his mouth with considerable enthusiasm. Jed found himself
holding onto Leo's hips for dear life as his friend's energetic probing
continued. He finally managed to haul himself back from the brink as Leo's
hands began to urgently insinuate themselves down the back of his pants. "Leo – we have all night. Let's eat first, okay?" Leo gazed at him for a moment, and then nodded. "Okay," he said with a shrug. He sat down at the table and Jed served up the meal, chatting away as he did so. It was only when he sat down and started to eat that he realized that Leo had barely said a word. His friend's eyes were following his every move though, in a way that was almost disconcerting – and strangely familiar. Jed tried to remember when he had last seen Leo behave this way; something about Leo's behaviour tonight was jogging a memory, he just couldn't place it. Jed continued talking but it was clear that Leo wasn't interested either in the conversation or in the food. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on Jed, and the President felt that all he had to do was say the word and Leo would leap on him and make love to him. A part of him thrilled to the knowledge that they still had the power to do this to each other after all these years; it reminded him of the early days of their relationship when they'd had to snatch their pleasure wherever and whenever they could, which had lead to some interesting encounters in places that made Jed blush now he looked back on it. That had been decades ago though – now they were a little too old for such behaviour and anyway, they had a nice comfortable bed and the knowledge that they wouldn't be disturbed all night. There was no need for any urgency. "So you're sure you're okay?" Jed asked, in an attempt to entice some chat out of his friend. Leo was always the quieter one of the two of them but he was a good conversationalist and whenever they were alone together the conversation flowed like water. It had always been this way; the fact that they always had so much to say to each other was one of the reasons why they had connected so strongly in the first place. Whenever Jed was away from the White House, he'd make frequent phone calls to Leo, or Leo would call him. Neither of them ever mentioned to the other that they could barely get through a day without talking on the phone; it was just a fact of their relationship. "I'm fine." Leo sat back in his chair, gazing at Jed as if he wanted to devour him. Jed noticed that he'd only pushed his food around his plate.
"Because…you know, after what happened when you had the flu a couple of
months ago, I wanted to be sure…" Leo had moves of his own he wanted to make – and the minute they finished their coffee he got up, went over to Jed's chair, and placed his hands on his friend's shoulders. Jed experienced that familiar Leo tingle as his friend began to run his hands down his arms, and he felt Leo's warm breath on the back of his neck, and then a familiar wetness as Leo licked him there, sending arousal shooting through every nerve in Jed's body. Jed couldn't help it – it always turned him on when Leo was this enthusiastic about sex and he loved how arousing Leo still found his body. It was one of those things that he'd been embarrassed about for many years, and, while he was long since over that sense of shyness, when Leo was this insistent Jed was still a little freaked out by how much he enjoyed it. He made a little sound and began to move away from the table but Leo grasped his arms firmly in his hands.
"Stay
there," he whispered in Jed's ear. "I want to undress you."
"Yeah. I
want to get you out of that suit, out of being the President, and make you
squeal."
Jed did a half-turn, and glanced at his friend over his shoulder, but Leo didn't seem to be there. He looked like he did when he'd been drinking – back in the days when he used to drink. There was almost a mask in place, and the usual calm, good natured Leo that Jed knew so well was hidden behind it. Jed was turned on and startled in equal measure. He knew Leo, his Leo, wouldn't do anything to hurt him, but all the same there was something edgy about the situation. "Leo…" he began, but he didn't get a chance to say anything else as Leo grabbed his face and subjected him to a long, passionate kiss. His hands wandered urgently over Jed's body as he kissed him, and when he finished Jed didn't have time to draw breath as Leo pulled him to his feet, his fingers ripping at the buttons on Jed's shirt while his lips went back in for another steamy kiss. Jed kissed him back this time; it was impossible to resist Leo when he was this focused on sex, and Jed was finding it too thrilling to want to stop his friend, although the nagging thought remained, at the back of his mind, that this was unusual behaviour for Leo, and that memory tantalized him again, just out of reach.
Leo had
Jed undressed in microseconds, and then he bundled him physically over to
the bed. Jed wasn't any lightweight, but Leo was sinewy and his strength,
when he chose to display it, always took Jed by surprise. He pushed Jed
onto the bed and then climbed on top of him and began making love to Jed,
passionately and urgently. Jed sighed, loving every second. He wrapped his
arms around Leo's back and returned his friend's kisses with passionate
ones of his own, but Leo wanted more. He raged over Jed's body like a
tempest, kissing, licking, biting and sucking until Jed did exactly what
Leo had predicted and started squealing and mewling with pleasure. Their
frenzied love making seemed to go on for hours – Jed wasn't sure he had
the stamina to keep up with the pace his friend was setting but Leo was
relentless. At some point, and Jed wasn't sure when as everything seemed
to pass in a blur of hazy pleasure, Leo found the condoms and lube that
were kept stowed in the nightstand, and then he was kneeling between Jed's
thighs and the next thing Jed knew his legs were over Leo's shoulders and
Leo was entering him, urgently, his movements fast and needy. Jed lay back
and gave into the utter bliss of the sensation. He didn't think he'd ever
tire of this; from the very first time they'd ever made love, leaving his
entire body boneless with pleasure, he had loved it. Jed gazed up at Leo
as his friend thrust into him, and it struck him that Leo was still
wearing that mask. His friend's eyes were glazed over, and he wasn't
looking at him the way he usually did; usually he gazed down on Jed with a
look of fond affection in his eyes, but tonight – tonight he looked…lost.
There was no other word for it. He looked as if he wasn't even there, as
if he was miles away, and yet at the same time he seemed oddly vulnerable
and desperate. "Going too fast for you, old man?" He teased. "No, I'm just saying – we can take our time. What's the rush?" Jed pointed out as Leo thrust back into him with another fast movement of his hips. "No rush…just that we might want to do this all over again later," Leo said with a wolfish smile. Jed gazed at him in surprise; usually once in a night was all they managed these days but Leo clearly had other ideas. "Okay, you're really putting me through my paces," he grumbled amiably. "Can't keep up?" Leo panted. "Wondering what the headlines would look like if you collapsed of a heart attack and died on me at this precise moment in time," Jed pointed out. "Leo…you usually like to take things slow…" He was panting himself throughout this speech but Leo ignored him. His hand was wrapped urgently around Jed's cock, and he pumped away until neither of them was able to hang on any longer and they both came. Leo collapsed on top of him, and they lay there for a very long time, getting their breath back. Then Leo shifted and withdrew from him, before wrapping his arms around Jed's body. He rested his face on Jed's chest, and, with a little sigh, closed his eyes. Jed's hands came to rest on Leo's back, and he gazed down at his friend, still surprised. Leo was clinging onto him like a drowning man clutching a rock, as if he was genuinely scared that Jed might disappear. What on earth had tonight's frenzied love making been about, Jed wondered? He stroked Leo's back gently, picking up a feeling of intense vulnerability from his friend that he couldn't help but respond to, although Leo didn't say a word. Something was bothering him though, judging by the way he had his arms wrapped so tightly around Jed's body. "Hey, we should talk," Jed murmured softly. "I'm too tired to talk. That was great wasn't it? It was great," Leo replied in one of his typical avoidance strategies that Jed was familiar with after 40 years of intimacy. He wondered for a moment whether Leo had been drinking again; was that why he had been sick the previous day? He hadn't smelled any alcohol on his friend's breath, either yesterday or today, but was that it?
"Leo," he
said softly. "Did you fall off the wagon?" "You can tell me," he said encouragingly.
"I
haven't been drinking, Jed. I just wanted to make love to you tonight –
what the hell is wrong with that?" Leo snapped. "You didn’t seem to have
any objections ten minutes ago." ***** 1970 A couple of hours after Leo's arrival, the door finally opened and a small group of VC entered the room, led by a man wearing an NVA uniform. He also wore a pair of round, iron rimmed glasses with almost comically thick lenses, making him look more like a bureaucrat than a soldier. "Your names please," he said in almost perfect English, glancing at his prisoners. "I'm Captain McGarry and this is Lieutenant Morelli." Leo got to his feet, ignoring the sharp stabbing pain in his back. This man looked as if he was in charge – maybe he could be reasoned with. "Lieutenant Morelli has a broken leg – he's in urgent need of medical attention…" he began but he didn't get any further as the bespectacled man barked an order and one of the guards accompanying him stepped forward and hit Leo hard across the jaw. Leo went flying backwards, and landed on the hard floor with a resounding thud. "You will not speak except to answer the questions I ask you," the man said in clipped tones. There was a kind of cold, controlled fury about him. Leo put his hand up to his jaw, and tried to massage the ache out of it. "He's got a broken leg," he said quietly. "He needs a doctor." That comment earned him a kick in the ribs, and then the bespectacled man stood over him, studying Leo from behind the thick lenses covering his eyes, assessing him coldly. "You should listen. When I say something I mean it. You'll have your chance to talk to me later during your interrogation," he said with a chilling smile. "For now – I think Lieutenant Morelli might have something he wishes to say to us." He motioned to the guards accompanying him, and they grabbed Morelli and dragged him roughly out of the room. The Lieutenant was trying to be brave but he gave a yelp of pure agony as his injured leg was jostled. Leo watched him go in silent despair; he had a pretty good idea what they would do to Morelli, and it sure as hell didn't involve having a doctor take look at his leg. There was nothing he could do about it, but his stomach crawled in sympathy for the young man, and in fear of what might happen to him next. His body ached all over, from the new blows and the ones he'd already received, and there was nothing to do but curl up against the wall again. He remembered Jed's letter and pulled it out, needing something besides what Morelli was likely going through to focus on right now. Politically, I'm really uneasy with the Nixon administration. After those secret bombings in Cambodia I wonder what other stuff he might be hiding – or what he might be capable of doing. I won't deny that I'm in favour of his policy of withdrawing us from Vietnam, if only for the entirely selfish reason that I'd get you back again. "I'm with you there, Jed," he murmured, wondering whether, if they did withdraw from this war, it would be too late for him. Last night, lying there in the dark with Lizzie on my chest, I kept myself awake by thinking of you. I wondered if it was possible that you could hear me, wherever you are. I know - it was probably day time in 'Nam and you were out fighting but I felt very close to you. I think about you a lot because of where you are and what you're doing. I wish you were here with us, back home and safe. We hear such terrible stories, and sometimes I lie awake at night worrying about the fact that you're out there, so far away from your home and the people who love you. Abbey just leaned over and agreed with me there, so it's not just me being incurably sentimental, old friend. Leo gave a little snort. Jed *was* incurably sentimental, and even more so in his letters than in person. He wasn't pleased that Jed was having sleepless nights over him, but a little part of his heart did glow at the fact that he was so obviously missed – and would be so clearly welcomed on his return. If he returned. I've been thinking about that vacation we spent touring around in your old beater of a car. I've led a sheltered life and that Summer you showed me an America I didn't even know existed. It was great meeting your mom and sisters too – speaking of which, your mom sent us a trunk-load of clothes for Lizzie – which, frankly, was a godsend. "Good old mom," Leo murmured out loud. He could imagine her seizing on any piece of good news, even one as tenuous as the birth of his god-daughter. She loved helping people out and he could imagine her delight on being able to send clothes for little Lizzie Bartlet. He smiled as he remembered the vacation Jed was talking about. How he wished, more than anything, that he could turn the clock back to that vacation, before Jed had married and he'd left to fight in this war. He could still remember beer soaked kisses with Jed as they'd camped out in a field in the middle of nowhere, and the feel of Jed's thick, dark hair under his hand as he made love to him. The thought was a good one, but so entirely at odds with his current desperate predicament that it brought him up short. He wrapped his arms around his knees in the cold, dank cell, and just sat there, staring into space. He didn't know how much time passed but next thing he knew there was a rattling sound outside, and then the door opened and Morelli was thrown back into the room, moaning incoherently with pain. Leo got up and felt sick when he saw that the handkerchief wrapped around the wound on Morelli's leg was soaked with new blood.
"You
fucking bastards," he hissed. "You can see the kind of pain he's in -
don't you have any humanity?" There was nothing Leo could do for Morelli except try and make him more comfortable. The kid was half delirious anyway, and his forehead was slick with sweat. Leo sat back against the wall, and cradled Morelli's head on his lap, which was the only available pillow in the place. "Franco – listen to me," he said urgently. "Tell them something next time – make something up – they won't know if it's true or not - but tell them something." Morelli shook his head, his eyes shining too brightly.
"That's
an order, Lieutenant," Leo said briskly. "It isn't just me saying it –
it's our orders, remember?" Morelli moved his head and gazed at Leo
blankly, and Leo doubted the young man remembered anything very much of
his training right now. "The new code of conduct, Lieutenant," he said
briskly, "instructs us that our first duty is to stay alive, so long as
doing so does not directly harm US troops. So I'm ordering you to stay
alive, Lieutenant." "The men were brave - they did their damndest to obey, went through all kinds of torture…but inevitably some of them cracked – and when that happened, they cracked badly." He squinted down at Morelli, whose breathing was becoming a little calmer. "So, they amended the rules. Lieutenant, you don't have to hold out forever – the expectation is that a prisoner will hold out as long as possible, and that's made easier if you give out small bits of information, so long as it doesn't directly compromise the health and safety of American forces. You hearing me, Morelli? This is what they're telling us to do. It's an order." Morelli managed a faded grin. "Yessir," he said softly. "What did they ask you?" Leo pressed gently. "Stuff about the squadron…where we were flying from…whether we had any new weapons they didn't know about. They kept whaling on my leg…" He shuddered, and the sweat poured slickly off his face. "Christ it hurt. Mr. Magoo kept on and on, asking me the same fucking stuff over and over again, but mostly I was screaming too much to reply. " "Mr. Magoo?" Leo frowned. "Guy with the glasses…" Morelli gestured to his face. "Such cold fucking eyes…didn't even blink when I screamed." "Mr. Magoo." Leo chuckled. "Suits the bastard."
They were
quiet for a long time. Morelli slipped in and out of consciousness and Leo
watched over him, but all too soon he heard clanging in the corridor, the
door was opened, and the newly christened Mr. Magoo entered. Leo
disengaged himself from Morelli and stood up. "With pleasure, Captain McGarry." ***** Tuesday Night They must have dozed off because next thing Jed knew, Leo was snuggled up behind him, his hands gently wandering over Jed's body, and Jed could feel a familiar hardness pressing against his ass.
"Hey,
you're awake," Leo murmured. "Ready for dessert?" "Who said we can't have second helpings?" Leo lowered his face to Jed's shoulder and nipped a series of little kisses along his skin. "Okay…but slowly this time," Jed chided him.
"Ah, I
knew it – you can't keep up, old man," Leo teased, his hands wandering
over Jed's body, arousing him. "I'm sorry. We don't have to if you don't want…" Leo began.
"I'm fine
to go again – I can keep up with *you* any time, old friend," Jed told him
tartly, "but I'm just saying go slow, that's all." "Good?" Leo whispered, bestowing a kiss on Jed's shoulder. "Mmmm," Jed sighed. He glanced back over his shoulder and found that the mask Leo had worn earlier was gone, to be replaced by an honesty of expression that took Jed by surprise. Leo was making love to him as if he thought Jed was a feast that might be snatched away, as if he wanted to be joined with Jed forever, to be as close to him as it was humanly possible to be. Jed turned his head back, startled by what he had just seen written so clearly on Leo's face. He surrendered himself to the sensation of his friend making love to him with exquisite tenderness, savouring every slow, measured thrust, every gentle caress of Leo's questing fingers on his skin, every loving kiss bestowed on the back of his neck and, after they both came, Leo didn't withdraw but stayed there, his arms wrapped tightly around Jed's body again. "I love you, Jed," Leo murmured as they lay there hazily, enjoying the moment, worn out and sated, tingling with contentment. Jed placed his hands on Leo's, where they were wrapped around his waist, frowning as he did so. He had no objection to being told he was loved but again, it wasn't a very Leo thing to do. Not that his friend had never said those words to him because he had, but they knew they loved each other and had done for a very long time, and it wasn't something they said all that often, except in passing, or as a joke.
|
