Three Alpha Romeo

The three of them dropped to the dirt in unison, like their legs had been taken from them. Then they began the familiar, military-style belly crawl I’d seen only in war movies and little plastic action figures.

“Really?” I asked. “Are you serious?”

“No chatter either,” Marcus called back, his voice low. “The canyon echoes. Every tiny sound carries.”

I was tired and cold, and it wasn’t even fully dark yet. It was only just past dusk. Our shopping trip into town had been a success, at least. Randall and I had picked up what we considered ‘the essentials’, and had even splurged a bit on some luxury items. Candy for one. A metric shit-ton of pretzels and potato chips for another.

Not to mention a very unauthorized side trip to the liquor store…

“We might have to be up there a while,” Randall pointed out. “No use in skimping.”

I had to admire how the two SEALs complimented each other. Randall was the fun, goofy partner who courted trouble. Holden, the smart, serious leader who knew when to rein him in. Differences aside, they’d make the perfect sitcom together. Anyone and everyone would watch it.

But there was a distinct business end to their relationship as well. Like now for instance, as they crawled their way silently around the ridge. I didn’t even have to imagine what enlisted life had been like for them. That when the shit hit the fan, the two of them had no doubt fallen instantly in synch with whatever needed to be done.

And what about you? the sing-songy voice in my head teased. What about your feelings?

Slowly I knelt in the dirt and got down on my belly. I honestly didn’t know what my feelings were. Everything had happened so fast! And yet…

And yet there had definitely been some sort of instant connection between the three of us. What began on the boat and culminated in that boxing gym went beyond just sex. I could feel the pull of their camaraderie. The allure of being enveloped and protected by them — not just physically either, but emotionally too.

The SEALs had been on their own for a while now, trying to pull off the same difficult task I was. It made sense that we’d click. That we’d come together like magnets, drawn to the same—

“Psssst!”

I looked up, and saw the three of them motioning me forward. One by one they rounded the curve, and I had no choice but to follow.

The clearing was there, and beyond it, a slight rise. Above it, Marcus had already installed a stretch of camo netting. It was made up of all browns and beiges; colors that perfectly matched the terrain.

I hung back a little as Marcus crawled slowly to the edge of the rise. Holden and Randall inched up along either side of him.

“There,” the Ranger whispered. “See it? The abbey’s courtyard?”

He passed a pair of binoculars to Holden. Eventually he passed them to Randall, while I crawled my way to the edge…

Holy SHIT!

I almost gasped the words out loud, but stopped myself. The ‘rise’ I was lying on was nothing more than the lip of a rocky cliff, staring hundreds of feet straight down into nothing. For a few terrifying moments I imagined it just giving away beneath our combined weight. Breaking apart, to send the four of us cartwheeling down the open mountainside…

“Here…” Randall whispered.

I took the binoculars and squinted through them. The abbey — or citadel, or whatever it was — was built directly into the side of the opposite mountain. The curved stone turrets and arched windows and doorways were incredibly ancient. Breathtakingly beautiful.

“Look there,” Randall’s lips tickled my ear. “Back right side.”

Sure enough, the upper level of the structure opened into a sprawling green garden. A row of tall, feathery Cyprus trees stood sentinel just behind low, stacked-stone walls. Even so, the courtyard was open enough. I could see clear into the center, where a large, elaborate fountain gurgled.

“Alright,” breathed Marcus. “Starting tomorrow one of us is stationed here, always. Manning the M107.”

He pulled back another section of camouflage, this one on the ground beside him. A lethal-looking sniper rifle was revealed, all grey and black and corrugated. Its big scope was capped at both ends.

“You get the shot, you take the shot. Don’t hesitate.”

Another minute went by, the only sound being the howl of the wind whipping between the two jagged peaks. Finally, Holden inched back down from the rise and the rest of us followed.

“So…” he said, turning toward Marcus. “You wanna finally tell us what Kyrkos looks like? Or should we just shoot everyone we see?”

“You’ll know him when you see him. The way he walks. The way he carries himself. There’s an aura about him that makes him different.”