This morning was the clearest Alex’s mind had been
since the accident. He focused on the
girl Danielle as she brought over his breakfast. She looked like she fell right out of the
17th century. Her skin looked like cappuccino froth dusted lightly with
cinnamon. The long plain beige skirt she
was wearing looked made of cotton. The
simple white top was too big for her as the large scoop neck toyed with falling
off her creamy lightly freckled shoulders with every movement. It was held to
her form by a simple white apron cinched tight to her small waist. She had a
brown bandana tied around her gold-laced brown hair holding it out of her
face. With no makeup, and only a freshly
washed face with broad evenly placed features, golden amber eyes sparkled
mischievously with an even broader smile.
“Morning Beautiful; here’s some eats for you. Hope this day finds you blessed.”
“Who is he to you?”
Danielle gave him an odd look as she placed the
steaming plate of eggs and hash on the table near his bed. “That was a complete
sentence. This day sees you blessed indeed.”
“Answer the question.”
“My name’s Danielle by the way. He told me you were Alex, -”
“Please, answer the question.”
“My brother, now can we move on to more civilized
conversation?”
Alex merely regarded her with hooded eyes.
“I suppose that’s a no. Pity I figured you had something interesting
to say.”
“When is Glendel coming back?”
She shrugged as she turned, and started to leave the
room.
Alex stewed for a second over Danielle’s uncooperative
nature. He then took a mental detail of
his physical condition. He moved both
legs successfully, but the truth would come when he tried to put weight on
those legs. His right shoulder was
definitely wrenched. He had pain in
various places; his face, his chest, and back. It was safe to say he truly hurt
from head to toe. He was staring at his
feet dangling over the end of the bed when Glendel casually strolled into the
room.
“Done with your vacation? Talk about an inopportune
time to take a break.” His gold eyes pinned Alex where he lay as the deep
smooth voice of the man filled the room.
Glendel stood at the doorway in pretty much the same
ensemble he had been in when they had met three weeks ago, but without the
hat. His brown hair was greasy, and lay
flat to his skull as if he had been wearing a hat before he came to the
bedroom.
Alex really wasn’t in the mood for this man’s off
color sense of humor, and said so. “I can’t say that I’m in a good frame of
mind for your particular brand of wit.”
Glendel arched a brow mockingly. “Why that was
slightly British. Odd from a big slant eyed Bolshevik like you. What’s your
story Stefanov?”
Alex merely glared at the man.
“Okay, I see you woke up in a grand mood.” Glendel
commented as he went over to a chair that was by the bed. It was the perch that Danielle had maintained
during her vigil over his prone body.
“Where’s McNeil?” Alex slanted his dark blue eyes at
Glendel.
“Back to his charmed lifestyle.” His expression
appeared bland at most.
Alex stared at the ceiling as he thought about the
places Shane McNeil could hole up. “How did the rest of the IRA feel about
Shane’s statement?”
“They claim it, but I happen to know firsthand that it
leaves a sour taste in the mouth of many of them. They want Shane dead.” This was accompanied
by an even blander look on his face considering the subject.
Alex fixed Glendel with a hard look. “How do you know
so much? How long have you been working
this?”
“Since it started it seems. This is my home Alex. I
see to what’s mine.” Glendel ended fiercely, his tone defying the unresponsive
features of his face.
“Will you get in my way when I go after McNeil?”
“Not at all, I intend to help. Unfortunately if I want to maintain my inside
you’ll have to be the one to kill McNeil, and then I’ll do the right thing, and
kill you.”
“You’re breaking my cover.” Alex jerked wanting to sit
up, but flinching instead, and staying prone.
“Yes I want you out of Ireland mate,” he said deadpan.
“My orders-,” Alex started raising his voice.
“Are superseded by mine,” was said softly, but with
force.
“No fucking way will I just roll over and let you kick
me out.”
“You aren’t being given a choice in the matter. I’m offering you plenty by giving you McNeil,
and a fake death. I could give you neither.” Glendel’s eyes gleamed with
malicious intent. The most expression he had showed yet.
Alex frowned at the man that he was quickly beginning
to not like one bit. They were on the same side. Why was he being told to run
home with his tail between his legs? It
wasn’t even from his superior, but by some CIA field agent. It made no bloody
sense. Then realization dawned on
him. The man being in the right place at
the right time, his unreadable countenance, and obvious community ties.
“You’re first wave intel.”
Glendel’s answering smile was dark and cold. “Now
you’re catching on laddie; much bigger things here than the IRA.”
Alex closed his eyes in frustration, but knew
that he had to heed the man before him. 
