THE GUARDIAN
BY: DIANA M.

Chapter Three

 
  Scarlett had locked herself away in her duties to wait her lunchtime meeting with Duke. She couldn’t let her mind wander back to last night without feeling sick. Besides, she told herself, training manuals require complete concentration.

  She had been working for almost a year on a manual of stealth infiltration techniques, The Way In. It was nearly finished, and she was very proud of herself for dedicating do much time to it. All that was left was to edit it a few times over, and send it off to the department of Military publishing to be printed and applied in the specialist academies across the country. Scarlett owed a lot to her academy, and felt she was repaying the time and effort her own training had entailed.

  She knew Duke had already reserved a few copies in advance. He had always complained of the need for a good stealth manual. Although she could never see him as the covert type, sneakiness ranked high on Duke’s important-things-to-master-as-a -Joe list. Perhaps that was what had inspired Scarlett to take on so daunting a task; manual writing was usually left to soldiers of higher rank.

  Scarlett finished chapter 3 and glanced up at the clock to see that she was already late for her lunch date. She jumped from her seat and was out the door before the manuscript’s cover had shut itself. In truth, the wolf matter frightened her more than she would admit to herself. She had to talk to Duke.

  He’ll freak out, she thought with a smile, That man worries if I don’t tie my shoes properly. The idea of Duke’s fanatic over-protection was comforting to Scarlett, rather than smothering. He’d pulled her out of quite a few scrapes in the past. She could expect that base security would become very tight for the next few days. He won’t stop till that wolf’s head is on his wall.

  The commissary was crowded. It was well past 1:30, and most of the Joes who were able had packed themselves into the small dining area. Scarlett caught a glimpse of Roadblock in the kitchen, and understood. Dining a-la Roadblock were always a break from the typical hum-drum lunches usually provided. It was a shame that he only cooked once a month, but the recent doubling of the Joe roster proved too much for even him. Gourmet fare had once again become a myth.

  Duke grabbed her before she could get in line. "I had Roadblock save you a plate of the good stuff. It went pretty fast."

  "Duke, after breakfast, anything that Roadblock makes will be ‘good stuff’," he had already pulled her over to the table he’d saved by the window. Roadblock came to their table balancing plates on his arms. Roadblock was a large man; there were a lot of plates. Scarlett thought she couldn’t possibly finish the entire meal.

  "Presenting...carne asada fajitas con chile reillenos de Señor Roadblock!" Scarlett’s stomach changed its mind when a fragrant plume of steam filled her nostrils. "This recipe might have helped us win the Alamo; no true blood from south of the border could resist." He loomed over them to get the reaction from their first bite.

  "Mmmmm...," Scarlett filled her mouth with a forkful of the savory, salty meat, ignoring the tortillas and sour cream, "absolutely breathtaking!"

  Duke inhaled deeply. "Smells tasty, all right," he loaded up a tortilla with the works and took a large bite, "Delicious!" Juice dribbled down the corner of his mouth to his chin, like a thin trickle of blood. "Juicy, just like I like it."

  Roadblock beamed at them and went back to the kitchen.

  "Duke, how do you get Roadblock to do you such culinary favors?"

  "Hmmmm?" He was already polishing off his first fajita.

  " No one else here has a spread quite like ours, and you’re the only one he ever gives table service to. Why are you so special?"

  "I seem like a pretty important guy, huh?," Duke wiped the juices away with a napkin and grinned. "It goes back to when I was top kick at a special forces school down south. Roadblock was one of my last graduates, along with Flint."

  "That requires he serve you hand and foot now?" Scarlett was puzzled. She couldn’t remember ever longing to make her own drill sergeants’ lives any easier.

  "Man, I was a mean son of a bitch back then! I remember their first day. I came out and put the fear of God into them. ‘You sniveling little ass-wipes are on my time now!’ They almost peed in their pants!" Duke demonstrated a malicious snarl. "There’s nothing like a healthy dose of intimidation to put trainees in line," He loaded up another tortilla, and hefted it mouth wards. It was interesting to watch Duke eat. His big hands somehow managed food in an elegant, almost reverent manner, and he always smelled each and every bite before it was consumed.

  "I still don’t see how that would inspire Roadblock to worship you with gourmet cooking." Scarlett made a dainty package of meat, sour cream and tortilla and took a bite. Duke watched, amused.

  "How do you ever get filled up on such small portions, Red? I could never survive, eating the way you do."

  "I’m surprised there’s any beef cows left around here, the way YOU eat. Tell me Duke, how does squashing a man’s ego make him want to do you favors?"

  "Those guys all came into special forces training thinking they were the downy hair on God’s butt. They took ‘special’ seriously. Thought no one could touch ‘em.. How the Hell can you teach someone like that? They won’t listen. They’d gotten set into bad habits, most of them. I had to break them down and build them properly," Duke dumped the last of his meat and cream on a final gargantuan fajita. "So I MADE them rely on me. Wouldn’t let them pee without my permission. When they screwed up, I made their lives worse than damnation itself," He gulped down a massive chunk of beef. "A lot of them dropped out. Those that made it were the best. They were lean, and could tough out anything," Duke finished his last bite, and eyed Scarlett’s left overs hungrily. She pushed her plate over to him without a word.

  Duke joyfully started in on the remains of her lunch and went on. "I keep tabs on my trainees. Of those that remained in the military, 98% have made it through the past several wars, insurrections, or police actions. Somalia, Panama, Colombia. You name it, they’ve made it through. Flint and Roadblock are two of the toughest Joes on base."

  Besides you, thought Scarlett.

  "Survival is a nice talent to have. I guess they’re grateful," Duke soaked the last of the juices up with a shred of tortilla, "A little pudding would finish this off well. Want some?"

  "God no, I’m stuffed"

  "Hang on, I’ll be back," He made his way through the maze of tables to the dessert bar.

  He came back with a soup bowl full of chocolate pudding.

  "Why aren’t you a ‘mean son of a bitch’ to us, Duke?" She dipped her fork in his dessert.

  "I thought you didn’t want any!" Duke moved the bowl to where she could get at it more easily, "Well, that’s simple. You guys already know what you’re doing. I’m not supposed to train you, I’m here to help you beat up the bad guys. No one would trust their lives to a complete dickhead. Still, I don’t let you walk all over me. Well, maybe just you."

  "Well, since you’re such a pussycat, sergeant Hauser, maybe you can help me out."

  Duke raised an eyebrow curiously. "What’s up?"

*****************************************************


  She told him about the Fireflies, and how it seemed her past was leaking all over the present. About the warm milk appearing next to the jar mysteriously, in a completely secure apartment. About the wolf who wasn’t Timber. Finally, she told him about her talk with Dial-Tone, and about him seeing the wolf slip in to her apartment after her.

  "He watched you walk home on the security cameras? I need to have a talk with that boy." Duke looked irritated.

  "Duke, that isn’t the point! A large strange wolf was following me home! He snuck into my apartment. I never knew he was there!"

  "And he made you warm milk, too. I wish I knew a wolf like that."

  "Duke, I’m serious. This is creepy! That wolf could be rabid!"

  Duke looked offended. "Rabid? I doubt it. If it were rabid, I don’t think you’d be here right now."

  "Doesn’t a rogue wolf and impossible fireflies worry just a bit?" Scarlett had never expected a response like this. "Spirit says they were an omen!"

  "An omen of nighttime treats? I wouldn’t call them ‘impossible’. Weird things happen all the time. Like those stories about it raining frogs. And by the way, no wolf is a rogue. I happen to think of a white wolf as a very elegant creature." Duke leaned back in his chair and folded his arms on his chest.

  "How’d you know it was white?" Scarlett felt fluttery in the chest.

  "Huh?"

  "I never said it was a white wolf, Duke, how did you know?" 

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