Edward Crichton - The Last Roman

I frowned. I knew where she was going with that thought as she trailed off. It’s exactly like being in a relationship or a family. Most sniper pairs were men, and therefore, brothers. Trust had to pass equally and unequivocally between them, because each relied on the other for everything. A business company may do team building exercises where individuals fall backwards off a ladder in the blind hopes of being caught by their peers. They did this to build trust and cooperation to create a more efficient work environment. The equivalent exercise for a sniper pair was to perform such an exercise while blindfolded in a monsoon, during an artillery barrage, with a nuke going off in the background and zombies closing in on all sides. You think Joe Blow from human resources is going to stick around and catch you during that?

It wasn’t likely.

Helena and I needed to trust each other. She needed to be my brother. My sister. I had to know she wasn’t going to buck under pressure and run away when I needed her support, and I couldn’t have her lying to me. I couldn’t trust her if she did. Santino had said she’d just ended a relationship so serious she threatened to kill the next guy who pissed her off, yet here she was talking like she doesn’t even know what the word relationship even means.

“Helena, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

She hesitated, but nodded. “We need to be honest with each other, of course.”

My thoughts exactly. “Your experience not having a spotter is understandable, but the way you speak of not having someone to rely on, well, sniper pairs utilizes the same kind of trust as relationships do. You should know that. Yet, you say you’ve never had anyone to rely on almost like you’ve never had anyone at all, but that’s not the story I got from the guys…”

I let my last statement trail off, hoping the point would sink in before things got more awkward than they already were. Her silence only confirmed my suspicions that the story I got from Santino wasn’t the whole one. I decided to go easy on her.

“Look. I’ll understand if you don’t tell me what’s going on now. We have time to get to know each other more before…”

She rolled onto her back and took a deep breath. “No, you’re right. You’ve obviously heard the story from one of the other guys about why I reacted to your arrival, but what I told them wasn’t completely true. I was betrothed, yes, but it wasn’t out of love. It was an arranged marriage agreed upon before I was born forced upon me by my father, as my fiance’s father did upon him.”

As far as I was concerned, arranged marriages were all but extinct, but I did know in some societies they were still common. I had no idea the Germans practiced it, but in the high class society I assumed Helena was from, it was probably more prevalent than most thought.

She took another deep breath before continuing.

“He was a nice,” she continued, a small smile tugging at her lips before it just as quickly vanished, “and as children we were rather close, but there was never anything between us deeper than friendship. I was trapped by an agreement, and Papa watched me like a hawk. We tried being intimate with each other but it didn’t work. It just didn’t feel right. It felt forced and unnatural. It’s why I eventually joined the military. I thought that I could just run away from my problems without ever having to face them.”

She paused, but I didn’t interrupt.

“He was killed in a car accident not too long ago. He was drinking, and wasn’t paying attention, and ran off the Autobahn colliding with a tree. He and his passenger were killed instantly.” She sniffled, before her voice rose angrily. “He was with another woman! A prostitute. Meanwhile, there I was, a perfect little angel, while he was off doing whatever the fuck he wanted while no one said a thing about it!”

I noticed her eyes were moistening with tears of sadness and rage. I could feel the anger in her voice.

“If you two were so distant, why are you so sad and angry, and why did you tell the guys that story about being cheated on, and nothing more?”

She stayed silent awhile as she pondered her answer, and I thought she was about to clam up completely. I suddenly felt like an ass pressuring her to tell me something that I guess wasn’t exactly relevant to our professional relationship. It was something we would need to talk about sooner or later, but I shouldn’t have pushed her. Even so, I put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

“Helena, you can trust me.”

“God damn it, Hunter, I’ve known you all of an hour and it’s scary I’m telling you anything. Trust me. I’m not used to that.”

I looked at her with a neutral expression. I didn’t want to offer her a reason to give up more than she was ready for, but I didn’t want her to stop either.

She took another breath and continued, releasing years of pent up frustration. “He didn’t deserve to die, and we were still, if anything, friends. He may have been cheating on our relationship, but there wasn’t much of one anyway. I told the guys the story about being cheating on because I wanted to fit in. Everybody has a story like that, except me, and what were the chances that the next guy who walked in would look even remotely like him and immediately do something to make me feel like I did with him?”

“Pretty good I guess.”

“Yeah, pretty good.”

“I am sorry for that.”

She sighed. “It’s okay.”

“So, do I really remind you that much of him?”

She looked away before answering. “Yes and no. I was so focused on shooting that when I saw you, I didn’t even think. I just saw a tall man, and I immediately thought of him. I thought of what he represented. A lie. A life of loneliness and years of anger, frustration and pain. He represented the life I had but didn’t want. One I shouldn’t have had. A life wasted. It’s all I could think about while we were in the armory and your asinine comment did not help.”

I felt a small smile tug at my lips. “Sorry.”

“I said it was okay. I’m free now, but I suppose I still need some time to put my life in order. I guess I should be thankful that I actually like the military.”

I nodded in agreement and waited for her to make eye contact again. “You know I’m not him, right? You don’t have to be reminded of him when you see me anymore.”

“I know,” she said slowly. “Thank you.”

I gave her a reassuring smile. “No problem. Besides, I’m sure I’m way better…”

I was cut off as a shadow loomed over us. Together, we looked up to see Santino standing there. He hesitated before saying anything, probably deciding whether or not to tell a joke or not, remembering the last time he tried to say something funny. Deciding on tact over humor, he held out his hands to help us off the ground. Each of us gripping a hand, he hauled us to our feet.

“Briefing,” was all he needed to say.

***

The team assembled in the small briefing room for the second time since our inception. This time, Helena and I were the first to arrive and took the same seats we originally occupied. McDougal noticed our newfound friendship and looked back down at his notes. I saw him barely shake his head, obviously relieved that the kids were able to settle down and play nice. It wasn’t long before the rest of the team filed into the room and took their seats. Once everyone was comfortable, McDougal started his presentation.

“I know we haven’t had much time together, none really, but you’re all highly trained operatives, elite, familiar to confusing situations, and it’s time to get to work. American intelligence has information confirming a direct threat against the Pope. Some kind of biological concoction cooked up and readied for use.”