Mark Young - Off the grid

“You saved my life, Willy.” Gerrit held out his hand in gratitude. “Think you can work some magic on those keys and tell us who is behind this?”

Willy took his hand and shook it vigorously. “Mr. B has already had me working on it.”

“Mr. B?”

“You know, Beck Malloy.”

“Ah.” Gerrit nodded. “And what did you and Mr. B find out?”

Beck came between him and Willy. “Just rest now, Gerrit. We need to move you and the others out of here soon. There’s a small lull in this war right now, while the other side regroups. We’ll need to start gearing up for a major operation. I’ll fill you in later. Once you’re on your feet, I have a lot of work for you and Joe and the others. I’m afraid you are going to need to continue to live off the grid, at least until we have a handle on this entire organization.”

“Speaking of Joe, where is he?”

“Over here, son.” The group parted so Gerrit could see his uncle seated across the room.

“What are you doing way over there, Joe?”

Joe wiped his eyes. “Just thanking the man upstairs that He sent you back to me-again.” He slowly raised himself and limped over to Gerrit’s bedside. “I’m okay. Kane and his people worked me over pretty good, so it’s going to take a while for me to recoup. I should be able to give you all kinds of grief by the time they release you from this place.”

“Enough of this chitchat. I’m starving.” Jack’s voice rang out. “Let the boy get some R amp;R. If the rest of you can stomach cafeteria food, I’m buying.” Before Thompson left, he lingered a moment, letting the others file out ahead of him. He returned to Gerrit’s bedside. “Here, I think you should have this.” The colonel held his hand open.

Inside, Gerrit saw the pocket watch his father had left him.

“Alena said you might want this,” Thompson said. “I sent a team to San Francisco to clean out everything in her shop after it was clear that part of the operation had been blown. I asked them to send this back to me.”

Gritting his teeth, Gerrit palmed the watch, feeling its smooth contours. “Thanks, sir. This watch helps me to hold on to the past when all else seems to have been destroyed. You can’t…” He couldn’t finish.

“I know, son.” Thompson moved toward the door. “Take care of yourself.”

Gerrit watched the small group wander into the hall, leaving him alone. He started to close his eyes but opened them when he heard someone enter the room.

Alena.

He smiled as she came near. “Missed me, huh?”

“Like a bad heartache.”

“You mean headache, right?” he said, pointing to his forehead.

“No, I mean heartache,” she said, patting her chest.

Gerrit smiled, “Come here.” He reached up and drew her closer. Gently and firmly, he kissed her. He closed his eyes and felt her relax in his arms.

Smiling, she pulled back, cupping his face in her hands. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Gerrit clasped her hands in his. “Did you know married guys who give their wives kisses every morning live five years longer than those jerks who never kiss ’em?”

Alena raised an eyebrow. “Is this some kind of weird proposal?”

Gerrit grinned. “Just a fact to tuck away for future consideration.”

She cocked her head to one side. “Really? Shall we practice?” She leaned over to kiss him.

He pulled back once again. “Did you know-?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Einstein.”