#carpet cleaning companies in Virginia

[examtask-blog]

Carpets are an essential part of any home's interior decor. Not only do they provide warmth and comfort, but they also enhance the beauty and ambiance of your living space. However, with regular use, carpets can become dirty, stained, and full of allergens that can adversely affect the air quality in your home.

[greatdaycommercialllc]

Residential Cleaning in Woodbridge, VA

Maintaining a clean and organized home is essential for creating a serene and comfortable living environment. In Woodbridge, Virginia, residents can rely on professional cleaning services to keep their homes spotless and inviting. Let's explore the benefits of residential cleaning in Woodbridge, VA, and the range of services available to ensure a pristine living space.

The Importance of Residential Cleaning:

A clean home not only promotes physical well-being but also contributes to mental clarity and overall happiness. Regular cleaning routines help reduce allergens, dust, and pollutants, creating a healthier indoor environment for you and your family. Additionally, a tidy and organized home enhances relaxation, productivity, and peace of mind.

Key Benefits of Residential Cleaning Services in Woodbridge, VA:

Thorough Cleaning: Professional cleaners use industry-standard techniques and equipment to ensure every corner of your home is thoroughly cleaned, from high-touch surfaces to hard-to-reach areas.

Time-Saving: Outsourcing cleaning tasks to professionals frees up your time and energy, allowing you to focus on other priorities and activities.

Customized Services: Cleaning services in Woodbridge, VA, offer customizable packages tailored to your specific needs, whether it's a one-time deep clean, regular maintenance, or special occasion cleaning.

Quality Results: Trained and experienced cleaners deliver quality results, leaving your home sparkling clean and organized.

Cleaning Services Offered in Woodbridge, VA:

General House Cleaning: Includes dusting, vacuuming, mopping, surface sanitization, and bathroom cleaning to maintain overall cleanliness.

Deep Cleaning: A comprehensive cleaning service that tackles hard-to-reach areas, removes built-up grime, and provides a thorough refresh for your home.

Move-In/Move-Out Cleaning: Ideal for homeowners or tenants moving in or out of a property, ensuring a clean and welcoming space.

Specialized Cleaning: Services tailored to specific areas such as kitchens, bathrooms, windows, upholstery, carpets, and more, addressing unique cleaning needs.

Choosing the Right Cleaning Service in Woodbridge:

When selecting a cleaning service provider in Woodbridge, VA, consider the following factors:

Reputation and Reviews: Look for companies with positive reviews, testimonials, and a strong reputation for reliability and quality service.

Services Offered: Ensure the cleaning service offers the specific services you require, whether it's general cleaning, deep cleaning, or specialized tasks.

Experience and Training: Choose a company with experienced and trained cleaners who use safe and effective cleaning products and techniques.

Customization and Flexibility: Opt for a service provider that offers customizable packages and flexible scheduling options to accommodate your needs and preferences.

Conclusion

Residential cleaning services in Woodbridge, VA, play a crucial role in maintaining a clean, healthy, and welcoming home environment. Whether you need regular upkeep, deep cleaning, or specialized services, professional cleaners offer expertise, efficiency, and peace of mind.

Investing in residential cleaning not only saves you time and effort but also ensures a spotless and organized living space that promotes well-being and relaxation. With reliable and trusted cleaning services in Woodbridge, VA, you can enjoy the benefits of a clean home while focusing on what matters most in your life.

[atlantaflooring123]

Enhance Your Space with Timeless Elegance Hardwood Floors in Atlanta

In the bustling metropolis of Atlanta, where style meets sophistication, homeowners are continuously seeking ways to elevate their living spaces. Amidst the myriad of design options, one timeless choice stands out: hardwood floors. Renowned for their unparalleled beauty, durability, and versatility, hardwood floors have become a staple in Atlanta homes, adding warmth and elegance to any room.

With its rich history and diverse architectural styles, Atlanta provides the perfect backdrop for showcasing the timeless allure of hardwood floors. Whether it's a cozy bungalow in Virginia Highland, a chic loft in Midtown, or a stately mansion in Buckhead, hardwood floors seamlessly complement any aesthetic, from classic to contemporary.

When it comes to selecting hardwood floors in Atlanta, homeowners are spoilt for choice. From traditional oak and maple to exotic species like Brazilian cherry and tigerwood, there's a vast array of options to suit every taste and preference. Each type of wood boasts its own unique grain patterns, colors, and textures, allowing homeowners to create a customized look that reflects their individual style.

Beyond aesthetics, hardwood floors offer numerous practical benefits that make them an ideal choice for Atlanta homes. With proper care and maintenance, hardwood floors can last for generations, making them a wise long-term investment. Unlike carpet or laminate flooring, hardwood floors are resistant to stains, spills, and odors, making them perfect for households with children and pets.

Moreover, hardwood floors are exceptionally easy to clean, requiring only regular sweeping and occasional mopping to keep them looking their best. This low-maintenance aspect is particularly appealing to busy Atlanta residents who prefer to spend their time enjoying the city's vibrant culture and entertainment scene rather than worrying about household chores.

In addition to their durability and ease of maintenance, hardwood floors also offer health benefits. Unlike carpet, which can harbor dust, allergens, and pet dander, hardwood floors provide a cleaner and healthier indoor environment, especially for allergy sufferers. By eliminating potential allergen traps, hardwood floors contribute to better indoor air quality, promoting overall health and well-being.

Beyond their practical benefits, hardwood floors also add value to Atlanta homes. In a competitive real estate market, hardwood floors are a highly sought-after feature that can significantly increase the resale value of a property. Prospective buyers are often willing to pay a premium for homes with hardwood floors, recognizing their timeless appeal and lasting quality.

For homeowners looking to install hardwood floors in Atlanta, there are numerous reputable flooring companies and contractors to choose from. Whether you prefer the convenience of prefinished hardwood or the customization options of site-finished flooring, experienced professionals can guide you through the selection and installation process, ensuring a seamless and stress-free experience from start to finish.

hardwood floors offer a winning combination of beauty, durability, and value that make them an ideal choice for Atlanta homeowners. With their timeless elegance and practical benefits, hardwood floors have become a beloved feature in homes across the city, adding warmth and sophistication to any space. Whether you're renovating a historic property or building your dream home from scratch, hardwood floors are sure to enhance your living experience in Atlanta for years to come.

For more info:-

epoxy garage flooring near me

hardwood floor atlanta

[greensolutionscleanin]

Green Solutions: Your Go-To for Safer, Healthier Carpet and Upholstery Cleaning in Harrisonburg and Rockingham County

Title: Green Solutions: Your Go-To for Safer, Healthier Carpet and Upholstery Cleaning in Harrisonburg and Rockingham County

In the bustling communities of Harrisonburg and Rockingham County, Virginia, residents are increasingly prioritizing eco-friendly and health-conscious solutions for their homes and businesses. Enter Green Solutions – a locally owned company dedicated to revolutionizing the way we clean our carpets and upholstery while prioritizing safety and sustainability.

With a commitment to providing the best carpet and upholstery cleaning service in the area, Green Solutions sets itself apart by offering a safer, healthier alternative to traditional cleaning methods. Utilizing the power of green steam cleaning technology, we ensure that your living spaces not only look immaculate but also contribute to a cleaner and healthier environment for you and your loved ones.

Why Green Solutions?

Locally Owned: As a locally owned and operated business, we understand the unique needs and values of the Harrisonburg and Rockingham County communities. Our team is deeply rooted in the area, and we take pride in serving our neighbors with integrity and excellence.

Safer, Healthier Cleaning: Traditional cleaning methods often rely on harsh chemicals and toxins that can pose risks to both human health and the environment. At Green Solutions, we use advanced green steam cleaning technology that harnesses the power of heat and steam to effectively remove dirt, stains, and allergens without the need for harmful chemicals. This not only ensures a thorough clean but also promotes a healthier indoor environment for you and your family.

Environmentally Conscious: We recognize the importance of preserving our planet for future generations. That's why we are committed to using eco-friendly cleaning solutions and practices that minimize our environmental footprint. Our green steam cleaning process consumes less water and energy compared to traditional methods, helping to conserve valuable resources and reduce pollution.

Exceptional Service: At Green Solutions, customer satisfaction is our top priority. From the moment you contact us, our friendly and professional team is dedicated to providing you with an exceptional experience. We take the time to understand your unique needs and tailor our services to exceed your expectations. With attention to detail and a passion for excellence, we ensure that your carpets and upholstery are left looking and feeling fresh and revitalized.

Experience the Green Solutions Difference Today!

For residents and businesses in Harrisonburg and Rockingham County seeking the best carpet and upholstery cleaning service, Green Solutions is the answer. Say goodbye to harsh chemicals and hello to a cleaner, healthier home or office environment.

Whether you're preparing for a special event, dealing with stubborn stains, or simply refreshing your space, trust Green Solutions to deliver outstanding results every time. Our green steam cleaning technology combined with our dedication to exceptional service makes us the premier choice for eco-friendly cleaning solutions in the area.

To schedule your appointment or learn more about our services, give us a call today! Join us in our mission to create cleaner, safer, and healthier living spaces for our community. Experience the Green Solutions difference and discover the beauty of green steam cleaning.

[texaseliterestoration]

Property damage diminishes the beauty of your property. Get it back today by calling Texas Elite Restoration and Cleaning. We’re part water damage restoration company, part cleaning company and completely committed to improving your Harlingen, TX property. Our team has over 16 years of experience in water damage restoration after hurricanes, tornadoes and flooding incidents. You can count on us to get your home or business back to normal again. Choose our water damage restoration Harlingen TX company today by calling (956) 300–4992.

Texas Elite Restoration 601 Virginia Ave. La Feria, TX 78559 (956) 300–4992

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Service We Offer:

Biohazard Cleanup Fire Damage Restoration Odor Removal Smoke Damage Restoration Water Damage Restoration Carpet Cleaning Mold Removal Sewage Cleanup Storm Damage Restoration

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[halloweeneveryday]

Now a believer

I want to start off by saying I never believed in paranormal things until these events occurred. Everything that I am going to write I have only shared with close family and a couple of friends. I've been wanting to put it down on paper and get my story out hoping it will help ease my mind a little.

The time frame in which these events took place is from 2010-2011. Location, Portsmouth Virginia.

My Wife and I had been married roughly a year at this point and she was pregnant with our child. We had been living in a high-rise apartment complex along the river but with the new child, we knew we needed something a little more substantial. I was deployed for most of her pregnancy and I encouraged her to go find us a house we could rent with a few bedrooms and a decent yard in a safe area. She was born and raised locally, so she knew the area and had an idea of what was best. She picked out a nice little house built in the early 1960's. Roughly 1200 square feet with a garage and decently sized yard and it met our budget.

I was deployed when she signed the paperwork and set up the move. An interesting tidbit that really rattled us at the end of all this was that the landlord said since we would have small children and the carpet needed replacing he wouldn't worry about any damages that occurred if she was fine keeping the carpet currently in the house. He was going to replace it but did say he just had it cleaned. There were a couple of bad spots in the carpet which was very comparable to typical hotel carpet, you know the short stuff with funky patterns and a lot of darker browns and reds... She agreed it wasn't worth worrying about if it kept us from having to pay to replace it eventually.

Since she was pregnant a moving company was hired to handle all the heavy lifting and her family was happy to help as well. This included her uncle, a local homicide detective. When he arrived at the house he got out of his car and looked around almost confused and my wife picked up on that. She asked what was wrong and he said he's pretty sure he worked a case here at this house. Seeing the obvious look of panic set in on my wife's face he stopped and played it off and said actually he just parked here and worked one a couple of houses down, his mistake. (Spoiler alert... He did work a case at that house we rented).

So that somewhat lays a little groundwork. My wife had been living in the house trouble-free for a few months. Our child was due to be born in late May and I got really lucky to have the opportunity to fly home early from deployment to be there for the birth. This is when everything started changing. The first night I was in the house, and really for me from the time I stepped in I just felt like I didn't belong in the house. Like I was in some stranger's home using their stuff, and enjoying their hard work. It is really hard for me to describe that feeling.

That first night, at around 0255-0320 we heard impossibly real footsteps in the attic directly above our room. Now the house was a typical small ranch-style house. Long floor plan. The attic ran the entire length of the house. I only say that because it needs to be understood what we were hearing. It was 100% someone walking from one end of the attic to the other end, pacing. Somewhat rapidly almost as if they were thinking about something that had them irritated and they needed to figure out how to fix it. This went on for a solid 3-4 minutes. My wife started to panic a bit and told me I needed to go investigate. I was trying to play it off figuring it must be a raccoon or something that got in the attic. At this point, I still didn't really believe in the paranormal. I grabbed my pistol, a Glock 26 chambered in 9mm, and a light and went to the access point for the attic.

Now there is only ONE way in or out of the attic. It's the typical drop-down door you pull with a string from the ceiling. I 100% believed when I went into the garage to go up that I would see the attic door had been opened and someone was legitimately up there. I really believed I was about to have to shoot someone. When I got there, the attic was sealed. No one around. The back door to the garage closed and locked, the garage door down... Just as I had left everything. I hesitantly pulled the attic door down and somewhat to my surprise I found that the lights in the attic had been left on. Now it is entirely possible they have been on a while because she never went up there and neither had I until this point. But it did make me think I had a homeless guy camping in my attic so I proceeded with caution. I went up with my sidearm and light as carefully as I could but my search turned up nothing. There was no one in the attic, no signs of anyone having been in there, just nothing. Nothing.

I went back downstairs, told my wife the coast was clear maybe it was something like pinecones falling on the roof which is literally the biggest stretch in the world for what we heard. I knew it, she knew it.... But what the hell was I suppose to say?

This happened several more times over the course of the next year. I'm not going to go into as many details about the other events that happened but I will lay them out. If anyone has any thoughts on all this id love to know what yall think.

-Sounds of conversations in other parts of the house while watching tv. As soon as I mute the tv, I could hear the conversation still taking place but only for a split second. Almost as if whatever was talking realized I muted the tv and could hear them. It definitely was not an echo either.

-Stuff disappearing. Literally had things like bananas or batteries on a countertop. Go to get them, they are gone. Come back through the kitchen an hour later and they are right where I knew I had left them. This made me feel crazy when it happened, but I was the only one in the house so its not like my wife had moved them.

-Dishes crashing in the sink... Except we never left dishes in the sink. Everything was always cleaned, dried, and put away. But we would randomly hear what sounded like pots and pans falling over in the sink.

-Motion-activated lights in the garage would go off all the time when I was home. Eventually, my wife noticed it ONLY happened when I was home.

-My wife started to have really negative energy and anger issues in the house that started to cause issues in our marriage, at first we assumed it was postpartum depression however this changed immediately the day we moved out and she hasn't ever felt that way since and we now have 3 kids.

-Doors open and close on their own. Doors that were shut and the locking mechanism engaged in the frame. This never happened when we were at the house. It was more when we went out and came home to a door opened that wasn't when we left.

-Random sounds, smells, cold spots.

I think that pretty much sums up our experience in this house. Now, where it all comes to a head for us was when things started going south with our landlord. He started treating my wife rudely when I was gone out to sea and if she had issues she needed help with he was a complete jerk. To be clear I'm not talking about problems like a clogged toilet. I am talking about things like our AC not working and the house being 90+ inside... He was really being a dick. This set me off and we opted to move out of the house.

While packing up a moving truck our neighbors across the street who had always been friendly in passing wanted to know why we were leaving. They said the previous renters moved out after a short period of time and had complained about the house being off and something not being right. She asked if we had any experiences in the house and I shared a few of the things we had experienced. What she proceeded to tell us shocked us. She told us that there was a family of 4 that lived there for a long time. I guess several years from the early 2000's until about mid 2008. The husband was apparently a known alcoholic with anger issues and cops would be out at the house routinely. Sometime around the summer of 2008 he lost his job and the landlord was evicting his family. The dad/husband ended up taking his life in the living room. On the same carpet that my family walked across every day. The landlord never had the carpet replaced, he had it cleaned. The day we moved out her uncle came clean, he worked that case. He was at our house and made the call that it was a suicide. He also confirmed that was the same carpet. Really freaked us out.

So at the end of all this, I am now a believer. I also (thankfully) have not had any other negative experiences. We had one really small thing happen at another home but it was a one-time incident that never occurred again.

source: https://www.reddit.com/r/ParanormalEncounters/comments/sb8lvf/experience_that_made_me_a_believer_portsmouth/

[junkerboss654]

How Redbox+ Dumpsters Aims To Grow Its Roll-off Enterprise In Recession-resilient Segments Of Construction

When I call about massive gadgets or extra baggage, they are all the time pleasant and accommodating. The price is great even for particular person items which roll off company are giant. With Park’s Garbage, you'll have the ability to rest simple knowing that your trash is being managed responsibly at a local level.

If you propose on driving your roll-off truck yourself, you'll need to get a Commercial Driver’s License . The key to making a revenue on this business is to maintain your overhead low and to search out methods to differentiate yourself from the competition. At some level, you might need to hire all of these positions or just a quantity of, depending on the scale roll off dumpster company and wishes of your small business. You may also rent a number of workers for a single function or a single employee for multiple roles, again depending on need. You could need to use industry-specific software, similar to Docket, DRS, or ServiceCore, to manage your online reserving, dumpster monitoring, dispatching, and invoicing.

Household roll-off dumpsters could be crammed with varied forms of old furnishings, carpet, tables, chairs, bins, garments, toys, home equipment, attic trash, storage junk and more. Our team has years of experience roll off dumpster companies in waste administration, and a real drive to please our prospects. We are a family-owned local waste administration company in Perham, MN. We present our providers in Lakes Area, Minnesota between Lake Park, Osage, Bluffton, and Battle Lake.

Clean concrete or filth is not topic to weight limit as long as recycler accepts the fabric. We allow leases longer than seven days however junk haul with a fee—of $15 per day or $75 per week. We're proud to partner with contractors and building companies.

At Tucson Recycling & Waste Services, we provide quite a lot of roll off rentals to meet your waste and recycling needs. We have worked with individuals and companies on initiatives of all sizes and can present the best roll-off rentals on your project. No matter what sort of container you need or when you need it, give our skilled representatives a call for top-notch service and first-rate waste and recycling solutions. Contact Tucson Recycling & Waste Services today to lease your roll off container. It's a space that isn't necessarily renowned for its overwhelming customer support. That's to not knock anyone, it is simply to say that companies are busy or maybe that is not their major business.

You would possibly even think about having a couple of, at completely different locations. Whether you're seeking to clear the garbage from your home or office, the crew at J & W Roll-Off Services LLC may help junk boss you with reasonably priced rubbish removal providers. Join us in asking Apple Valley Waste for the chance to keep West Virginia #wildandwonderful by opening their doorways to our vehicles, customers, and community.

Even although we offer such a excessive degree of customer care in Cuyahoga, Geauga, Lake and Ashtabula counties, we're still capable of provide probably the most competitive pricing and the quickest delivery occasions. Get in contact with us right now in case you are prepared for us to have a dumpster sent to your home or business in Northeast Ohio. If you’re unfamiliar with creating a dumpster rental marketing strategy, you could suppose creating one will be a time-consuming and irritating course of.

[homeandofficecleaning]

House Washing Services Richmond VA

House washing services in Richmond VA are a great way to get your home in tip-top shape. These companies provide top-to-bottom cleaning, from dusting and vacuuming to cleaning your carpets and kitchen cabinets.

Prices for house washing vary depending on the size of your home, the type of materials being cleaned (vinyl siding, brick, or concrete), and the amount of dirt or mold on the surface.

CottageCare Richmond

CottageCare Richmond offers cleaning services for residential homes, apartments, condominiums, and small offices. Its professional cleaners have a proven track record of providing quality service and cleaning with safe and environmentally friendly products. This house washing services Richmond VA is licensed and bonded, and it gives a 100% satisfaction guarantee. Its services include one-time, move-in, move-out, and post-renovation cleanings and small office and spring cleanings. Its staff is background checked and trained and does not charge rescheduling fees.

In addition to house washing services, CottageCare Richmond also operates a memory care community. This facility offers a unique Cottage Care program where residents can get around-the-clock assistance with daily activities and personal care. Its team of caregivers is specially trained to help seniors with Alzheimer's disease, and dementia lives happy, fulfilling lives.

New Image Cleaning Service

New Image Cleaning Service is a Richmond-based company that offers various services, including house washing. They also provide commercial janitorial services for businesses and organizations in the area. They are known for their high-quality services and customer satisfaction. They are licensed and insured and offer a 100% satisfaction guarantee. They have a large crew of highly trained and experienced professionals who are all well-versed in the best practices for house washing. They even offer a free quote before they start their work, which is an excellent way to ensure that you get the best service possible for your money.

It's no secret that Virginia's capital city is great to live in and visit. It's got a lot to offer, from the James River to the Richmond Children's Museum. In addition, its house-washing services will keep your home pristine while you can enjoy all the other things this city has to offer.

Two Maids & A Mop

Two Maids & A Mop offers an array of one-time and recurrent services that can meet the needs of most households. It includes the company's Alternate Cleaning Package, which lets customers have a deep clean one week and a less intensive touch-up clean on another.

While the company may not have the most expensive or flashiest products, it does offer a well-thought-out Pay for Performance system that shows its dedication to providing a top-notch customer experience. As a result, Two Maids & A Mop is one of the fastest-growing companies in the country. In addition, it has the highest employee retention rate of any company in its field. The company is also a great place to work if you're looking for a challenging and rewarding job with high employee satisfaction.

MaidPro

Whether you need a one-time cleaning or recurrent services, MaidPro is an excellent choice. Their 49-Point House Cleaning Checklist is thorough and helps ensure your home is sparkling clean.

The company also takes great care of its employees through competitive pay, travel reimbursement, and thorough training. In addition, they offer a career path from service provider to trainer and manager.

Another great thing about MaidPro is its commitment to the community. In addition to providing cleaning services, they have created a 501c3 non-profit organization, MaidPro Cares, which works directly with orphanages and helps supply children with essential items like school supplies, food, and clothing.

The Maid Crew

The Maid Crew is a house washing service that has been in business since 1999. It offers various services, including one-time cleanings, move-in/out, post-renovation, and spring cleans. It also provides hourly-based cleanings that allow homeowners to fit the company's work into their schedule.

The Maid Crew is known for paying employees fair wages, plus providing them with great benefits like health insurance and 22 paid days off per year. Its employees are also eligible for free National Domestic Workers Alliance membership. Its managers conduct daily performance reviews and give ongoing feedback to their employees. Its employee handbook also includes policies and procedures. New hires also receive a New Hire Orientation. This program introduces the company's products and services and covers employment history, compensation, training, and benefits.

[nextersrestoration]

Carpet Cleaning Companies in Virginia: Why Regular Cleaning is Important for Your Home

Carpets are an essential part of any home's interior decor. Not only do they provide warmth and comfort, but they also enhance the beauty and ambiance of your living space. However, with regular use, carpets can become dirty, stained, and full of allergens that can adversely affect the air quality in your home.

[examtask-blog]

Nexters Restoration Services™ is a Water damage & Restoration Company serving local communities all round the VA, USA. We offer water damage restoration, mold detection & removal, smoke and fireplace restoration, disaster recovery, crawl space encapsulation and different services like janitorial services, air duct cleaning and carpet cleaning.

[cleanwizardsva]

Business Name: Clean Wizards Janitorial & Commercial Floor Care

Street Address: 249 Central Park Avenue

City: Virginia Beach

State: Virginia

Zip Code: 23462

Country: United States

Business Phone: (757) 237-8434

Business Email: cleanwizards@gmail.com

Website: https://norfolkjanitorial.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/norfolkjanitorial/

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ivqf8rOJSuk

Business Description: We are a Janitorial company that provides short or long term cleaning and commercial floor care services to Hampton Roads area . We were established in 1997 serving our customers for over 23 years.

Google My Business CID URL: https://www.google.com/maps?cid=5435455109576242732

Business Hours: Sunday Closed Monday 8.30AM-5PM Tuesday 8.30AM-5PM Wednesday 8.30AM-5PM Thursday 8.30AM-5PM Friday 8.30AM-5PM Saturday 8,30AM-3PM

Payment Methods: Cash Check Visa Master Discover Amex Cash App

Services: Commercial Floor Care

Keywords: commercial carpet cleaning, professional carpet cleaning, carpet cleaning service, hardwood floor refinishing, hardwood floor refinishing near me

Business/Company Establishment Date: 01-01-1997

Business Slogan: Our Results Are Magical

Number of Employees: 10+

Yearly Revenue: 100,000-500,000 USD/CAD/AUD/GBP

Owner Name: Doug Hughes

Location:

Service Areas:

[adamantiumdragonfly]

“...A time when the United States is what we fight for...” 

The occupants of the Grisham Hall boarding house were no strangers to the war effort. Brothers, cousins, old flames, and sweethearts have been wrenched from their grasp, the only contact to their stolen loved ones is military grade pencils and scraps of paper. Estelle prides herself on her mind for numbers but a usurper from her past rears his russet head and threatens to steal her thoughts every chance he gets. Bessie has been searching for a home in every patron in that cafe but she’s left seeing his face everywhere she looks. Constance hears her lover’s voice on the wind, finding quiet in the graveyard shift of the machine shop. Margaret refuses to admit defeat but the distance between her letters and her love grows wider each day. Jeannette has read many stories about tragic heroes. Her childhood friend has told tales of his plans for wealth and ending the war on his own. She just hopes she has a chance to do her part first.  

taglist: @rinadoesstuff @vintagelavenderskies @julianneday1701  @wexhappyxfew @junojelli @jamie506101-deactivated20210209 @trashgoddess600 @pilindieltheelf @sunnyshifty @rogue-sunday @easy-company-tradition  @pxpeyewynn @50svibes​

No Ordinary Time

When the doorbell rang at the Grisham Hall for Ladies, it was a house-wide thrill, shivering down the very spine of the building and sending chills into every resident. A doorbell ring, with its chime calling every girl to their feet in a downward flight, could mean one of two things: a visitor or a postman. Visitors, particularly of the sought after male variety, were scarce since the war had been put on to boil some three years previously. Now, with the residents tending home fires and not the flaming passions of suitors, a postman was more likely. A postman, or rather post-boy, were the only kindling to the fires of romance. 

But, on a dim March morning with the sky heavy and ready to bleed, the doorbell had been run and so began the usual stampede of pumps on hardwood floors. There should have been only two possibilities and yet, Jeannette Edwards wasn't a postman or anything that the anxiously awaiting faces expected. She had rung the bell and stepped back in surprise and a tiny bit of fright at the fervor and hunger that met her behind the door wrenched from it’s frame by a seemingly harmless girl. 

She shouldn���t have been so ferocious of a predator as she seemed, this little thing with short brown hair and a dickie color edged in red ribbon but Jeannette stepped back all the same. This hadn’t been what Jeannette had expected either. 

Grisham had come highly recommended, as a good, upstanding place for good, upstanding girls. Jeannette thought she had fit that description rather well and had packed her things in the carpet bag she now clutched tightly in one whitened fist. Could this carpet bag that had first belonged to her mother be used as a weapon to fend off this frightening girl and her hungry eyes? 

“You aren’t Davis,” The girl huffed and moved to shut the door. Jeannette hadn’t come all the way from Hughestown to be turned away by someone looking for a Davis but she didn’t move fast enough. 

A hand, surely one of God’s angels come down from heaven, stopped the door before the girl could shut Jeannette out from her new home. 

“Sorry about that,” The hand’s owner said. She might as well have been an angel as she pushed the door open again, giving full view of her face. Not nearly as intimidating as this little rabid creature before her but there was something in her dark eyes that didn’t set Jeannette completely at ease. 

“Oh,” Jeannette said. “That’s quite alright.” 

“It isn’t really. Bess turns into a monster when she hasn’t heard from her beau in a few days,” The girl said, tossing her long black curls over her shoulder. She wore them loose, a stark contrast to the tight pins in the other girl, Bess’s, locks of chestnut brown. “Sorry you had to be in her path.” 

“Who’s Davis?” Jeannette stammered, gripping her carpet bag tighter and trying not to wobble in her too big pumps. She had bought them before the war, when she had still been hopeful that she’d grow to fit them. But with spending frivolously unpatriotic and her shoe size stubbornly remaining, Jeannette had been left with loose pumps and aching feet. 

“THERE HE IS!” Bess leapt past Jeannette, brushing her roughly in her flight off the wooden porch and flying into the dripping rain. She wore no shoes and her bobby socks were soaked on the puddled pavers as she ran towards the approaching youth in a yellow raincoat. 

“Davis is the mail carrier.” the dark haired girl explained. “He was running late today. We get antsy when we don’t get our letters. I’m sorry I don’t think I-” 

“Jeannette.” She extended her hand. “Jeannette Edwards.” 

Those dark eyes studied her, flicking over her navy blue hat into which her frizzy tomato red hair was tucked, all the way down her too big pumps before shaking Jeannette’s outstretched hand. “Estelle Tran.” 

Behind those dark eyes lay a studious mind that wrote down every variable and equation the world threw at her, bringing up the final unfair sum and accepting it as fact. Estelle was a woman of facts, something that Jeannette rarely dealt in. 

The idea of chasing a mail carrier down flooded steps to retrieve a sought-after letter had never once crossed Jeannette’s mind but it seemed these girls found it a daily occurrence. Jeannette’s gaze was cast to the left of the doorway where the mailbox was hung, the address and the name of the establishment emblazoned on the wood in cut out letters. 

“I’m sorry, I believe I came to the wrong place,” She said, gesturing at the box where the “I” had been replaced by a mystifying “E”. “I’m looking for Grisham Hall,” 

“Oh you are in the right place,” Bess jogged back up the path, her stockings slapping against the stone pavers like webbed feet. “We knocked the ‘I’ off and had to make do. Grisham, Gresham. It’s all the same, really,” 

“Jeannette Edwards,” The redhead pushed her hand forward, offering it to the creature who had been ready to shut her out in this damp cold. Bess seemed in better spirits now, a wad of letters in her hand.

“Elizabeth Ferguson,” Her bobbed brown hair bounced against her cheeks as Elizabeth leaned forward to take Jeannette’s hand. “You can call me Bess, Beth, I really don’t mind. Crops good this week,” Bess turned to Estelle and waved the mail under her companion’s nose. 

“Stop waving and let me look,” Estelle plucked the letters from Bess’s hands, holding them out of reach as the brunette leapt for them. 

“Hang on,” Bess cried, trying in vain to reach the envelopes. “Two of them are for me.” 

When the correspondence had been returned to their rightful recipient, Bess squealed and darted back into the house, sliding across the foyer in her slick stockings. 

“Better wake Connie and Margo,”  Estelle called over her shoulder as she sorted through the last of the letters. She turned to go inside but paused, as if remembering that Jeannette was there, out in the drizzling rain and the damp air. “You are looking for Grisham Hall, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” Jeannette said. “I’m-” 

“The new tenant,” Estelle finished for her. “Mrs. G told us. Come on then,” 

Allowing herself to be waved inside, Jeannette cast her gaze around the foyer of cherry-stained wood and bright electric lights, a stark contrast to the gloom and doom of the world outside. The scent of lemon cleaner that hung in the air was the same brand that Jeannette’s mother had used in the houses she cleaned. A strange connection between the hills of Pennsylvania and the riverside of Virginia that was a comfort as much as a weight. This house was far too clean to be anything from Jeannette’s home and it fit the bill for good and upstanding. This house was the picture of American dreams and patriotism with it’s large staircase and adjoining room for a grand piano and little else. 

Jeannette hung back as Estelle pushed her way further into the house as if she wasn’t stunned by the cherry-wood and lemon cleaner. Those too big shoes looked foolish and the wish for a pair that fit was unpatriotic in this bright house with it’s star banner in the window. Shuffling her feet, Jeannette cast her gaze down. 

“Mrs G!” Estelle shouted. Deep from the belly of this house, came a faint response. 

“She’s in the kitchen,” Estelle waited for Jeannette to follow her through the side door into a back hall, past the dining room set for an army and a sunroom that was dark under the storm brewing outside, and into the even brighter kitchen. 

“Mrs. G, Ms. Edwards is here,” Estelle called and the woman at the counter turned away from the scraps of dough, her hands dusted in flour. 

“I was expecting a call from the station,” Mrs. Grisham chided, wiping her hands across a spotless apron, sending a wince through Jeannette’s frame at the destruction of such clean linen.  “We were going to send the car with Constance.” 

“I took a bus and then a cab. It was no trouble,” Jeannette said. “I didn’t want to impose,”

Mrs. Grisham blustered and waved a hand, sending flour cascading into the air, assuring Jeannette that it was no trouble at all. She was a matronly, if not clumsy, woman who’s nice house and nice clothes set the tone for the good and upstanding boarding house she ran. The girls who had been in her care were loved fiercely and looked after tenderly with a maternal, if not iron, fist. She was no stranger to hard work and saw the running of this hall for ladies as her battlefield. While the muddied stairs and the young women were not German soldiers or Pacific islands, they were a worthy opponent all the same. 

 “I saw your banner, Mrs. Grisham,” Jeannette said, gesturing back the way she had come. “Your son?” 

Stars marked windows and hearts, declaring that the ultimate show of patriotism had been brandished in that home. Their home fires were stoked a little more vigorously and their women sat in wait a little more earnestly. Jeannette had seen many on her trip down from Pennsylvania and knew still more in her hometown; there it stung to put names to the stars in windows. 

“Yes,” Mrs. Grisham said, with a thin smile. “Arthur is in the Pacific. And you?” 

“Two brothers in North Africa,” Two stars for Jeannette’s mother. “A cousin in the Navy, and a friend. Last I heard, he was in England.” 

Those names were hard to forget. Brothers. Friends. Family. Everyone knew someone who was fighting, everyone had a letter that they could send. 

Her friend had taken up space in her mind since he had waved goodbye on that train. She carried those dark eyes and that crooked smile in her carpet bag across state lines and into Norfolk, etched into her memory with the letters and the memories. Jeannette hadn’t heard from him in several weeks and she was growing steadily more concerned. They had grown up together and he had always been in her life in some form or fashion, in letters or in days under the trees. 

“Mine too!” Bessie cried. “Postmarked Aldbourne.” 

“Now, you know how Estelle feels about all this talk,” Mrs. Grisham said softly. “Did you have your address changed, dear? Letters are a big to-do around here.” 

Jeannette didn’t cling to every letter, every word at first.  She hadn’t known what a lifeline those pencil-etched papers of military issued paper, in the storm of the current world. She had begun to see how impervious the lead was to the wiles of the storms. 

“My mother will forward any letters from home,” Jeannette said. 

“Now, enough of all this letter talk,” Mrs. Grisham said. “You got a job on base, didn’t you?” 

Jeannette nodded. 

“You are in luck. Most of the girls here work on base and there is always plenty of room in the car. Dinners and breakfasts are as a home but lunches are up to you. I trust you’ll join us tonight? I’ve been saving my coupons.” 

“Mrs. G is making her apple pie,” Bessie said. “It ranks 4th best.” 

“I will win first place, mark my words,” Mrs. G teased. “You’ll find we are very relaxed here, Jeannette. I don’t care much what you get up to, just keep your wits about you. These Navy men-” Mrs. Grisham shuddered as if repelled by the thought of that branch of the US military. “Bess and Estelle will show you your room. You’ll have to share.” 

Once Jeannette had assured Mrs. G that she had shared a room her whole life and it didn’t matter to her, the landlady smiled and waved them up the back staircase. Following the damp footprints of Bess up the third floor, she let her eyes wander to the photos on the walls. Scenic views of the river that Jeannette knew was only a few miles away shared space with the portraits of a young boy and a much younger Mrs. Grisham. Beside her was the assumed Mr. Grisham, who’s dark eyes followed Jeannette up the stairs long after his face had ceased to be represented in the family photographs. It was almost poetic, to see the changes in the family as Jeannette followed Bess and Estelle up the stairs. 

Between the days by the river and the picnic blankets on the beach,  Arthur grew up and Mrs. Grisham grew grayer. Jeannette had been a girl prone to empathy often to her detriment and felt the pang of nostalgia deeper as they ascended till the final frame on the landing showed the now older and grimmer son who Jeannette had seen as a child not seven steps back, dressed up in his uniform. Bess and Estelle had passed these photos daily and knew the stories behind them, having seen Arthur in the flesh before the Navy had stolen him away. They felt the pang as Jeannette did, but sharper. They knew the shy and quiet boy wasn’t in that uniform.  

They ignored the second floor, leaving Mrs. Grisham’s shrine to how things had been before Arhtur untouched and continued to the third floor, where the photos were scarce and replaced with paintings of long forgotten relatives and odd landscapes. Bess paused to point out that the oar on the side of the boat depicted wasn’t actually an oar but a “sneaky duck. I didn’t know until Carrie told me. Looks like an oar, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it does,” Jeannette admitted. “Did a Grisham paint it?” 

Estelle turned from where she stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at the lagging Jeannette and Bess. “The previous owner of this house, a great aunt of Mrs. Grisham’s, Beverly Simmons, was an amatuer artist.” 

“Emphasis on the amatuer,” Bess muttered as she jogged up the last few steps. “Mrs. G doesn’t want to see ducks that look like boats on the main floor so we are forced to look at their sorry tails everyday.” 

“I don’t think they look that bad,” Jeannette said, wanting to defend the ducks. She tilted her head, getting a better look. “Well…” 

“They wear on you after a few weeks,” Estelle said, beckoning Jeannette up the stairs. ”You’ll see.” 

The frightening vision of these misshapen ducks waddling up the stairs after her was enough to quicken Jeannette’s pace, securing her safety on the landing where Estelle and Bess had already moved on. 

“You’ll be on the left,” Bess said, poking her head into a doorway and shouting, “Margo! Calm down, it’s just me. You’ve got a letter.” 

The landing had an overstuffed armchair, a bookcase where all the inhabitants leaned to the left, and a single window that sent slanting gray light onto the wooden floor that creaked under Jeannette’s uncertain feet. It looked like a cozy place to sit and read on a rainy day such as this if there hadn’t been a weight in the air. It wound between the branching doorways, under the floorboards, and sank into Jeannette’s bones. It was an anticipation that was as intoxicating as it was melancholy. 

The American homefront had known only one thing in the two years since they had found themselves in a simmering war and had taken it upon themselves to bring it to an unrelenting boil. In the heat of the flames of passion, love, and patriotism, the country was left with an immense shadow. The waiting. Like dolls abandoned in their beautifully crafted house, dust collected on their painted, smiling faces. 

Jeannette had known the numbing of waiting, the thrill of the letter in her hands, the way she held them so tightly. Her mother hadn’t understood, quite so deeply. Ada didn’t understand, quite so sharply. She had never felt it as strongly as she did in this house. Women in a war but not fighting for it. Women who were aching for those who did fight but putting up their own battles. It was almost poetic, the anticipation. 

This anticipation had become the drive behind her movement, the striking match to her move down to Norfolk. This fire needed to be stoked by more than just letters. Ink didn’t catch  quite like working for the war effort. Jeannette had been fond of the meter and beat of poetry, finding solace from the cole-tinged air in the yellowed pages of Maffei, and Shakespeare. Her brothers and their friends never understood her obsession, save one. He would sneak books from the library in Pittston and slide them under her window. Jeannette smiled at the memory. She had spent many summer nights poking her head out that window, looking for what literature had been left in the window box of daisies. 

“On the left, she said?” Jeannette looked at Estelle and pointed to the first door on the left. She made for the handle, palm grazing the cool metal when Estelle’s voice cut through the weight like a sharp knife. 

“Not that room!” She snapped. 

Jeannette would have stepped back if her shoes weren’t prone to wobbling so dangerously. She settled for snatching her hand back from the cold doorknob. Estelle’s fire had subsided but there was no apology, no retraction of her word. Jeannette didn’t offer an apology. She didn’t know what she had done. 

“Oh, Jeannette,” Bess said, coming to her rescue. “Not that left. That’s Carrie and...Oh never mind, I’ll show you.” 

Jeannette was ushered toward the next door and winced as Bess shouted at the inhabitant. “CONNIE! YOU’VE GOT A LETTER!” 

There was a long stretch of silence followed by the snuffling sounds of deep sleep. Jeannette’s prospective roommate seemed to be undisturbed by Bess’s screech while Jeanette’s own ears were still ringing. 

“Constance works nights with my roommate, Margaret,” Bess explained, her voice not at all strained by the scream from a moment before. “They are machinists on the aircraft for the Navy. We don’t see them very often.”

The carpet bag was suddenly quite heavy in Jeannette’s hand and tugged on her already aching shoulders. Bess noticed her wince and took pity on her new housemate. “Constance, I’m sorry but I have to turn on the light.” 

The dark, peaceful oasis was suddenly illuminated by the light overhead and the lamp on the bedside that Bess mercilessly flicked on. Jeannette glanced around the now visible furniture, that no longer looked like looming creatures from nightmares. An empty bed, a dresser opened to reveal barren drawers, and a desk with the stability of a drunken sailor fresh from sea duty.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite alarm clock,” The lump of blankets that Bess insisted was Constance, said, her voice muffled. “Morning, Beth,” 

“Very funny, Constance,”  Bess said. “Do you want your letter or not?” 

A calloused hand, scarred and rough from the late nights among the heavy machinery and scrabbling over metal carcasses of aircraft, withdrew from the quilts. Bess placed the offering in the waiting palm and, like the jaw of a predator, the hand snapped it up eagerly, drawing back to the safety of the quilts. 

“Do you need help unpacking?” Bess asked Jeannette brightly. “I’m an ace at moving. I’ve helped most everyone on the floor. Except Estelle, of course, she’s been here since before the “I” fell.” 

Bess was, indeed, an ace at packing and unpacking. This skill had been cultivated long before she had received her first letter, before she had been the smiling waitress at that destined cafe, when she was just Elizabeth Ferguson. Jeannette liked Bess. It was impossible not to. There was something about her short brown hair framing her face and the big brown eyes that made her so endearing and begged to be helpful. Jeannette couldn’t say no. 

“If you don’t mind,” She started to say. 

“I don’t!” Bess said, snatching up the carpet bag and throwing open the wardrobe on Jeannette’s side of the room.  

Jeannette had never known a great abundance of belongings. Most of her life, she had seen this as an embarrassment, to know few and to have few seemed to be a weakness. That was, until she had accepted the translator position in Norfolk and packed up what little she had into a carpet bag. The carpet bag that had housed her pieces from home, her few books, and the clothes that had been worn through all in the name of the war effort, was thrown open. Bessie Ferguson no longer stood in that room, but a whirlwind of limbs, flying clothes, and knick knacks being placed just so. 

“Where are you from, again?” Bessie asked, not waiting for a response, before plunging on with the next question. “Your brothers are in North Africa? I have a brother. He’s not fit for service, lucky bastard. Don’t tell Mrs. G that I swore-” 

“Beth,” Constance groaned, tossing back the covers. “What time is it?” 

“A quarter past four,” Jeannette supplied, glancing at her watch. 

“I was hoping to get another hour,” Constance sat up, letter still in hand. She smirked at its contents.  

“Another poem?” Bess asked, setting Jeannette’s Shakespeare and Maffei volumes on the teetering desk. “Connie’s beau is something of a poet.” 

Constance’s mussed curls bounced as she shook her head at the younger girl’s words.  “That’s generous of you, Beth,” 

Whether or not the gift of prose was possessed by her pen pal, Constance didn’t seem to mind. Her sea green eyes scanned the page, soaking up every thoughtful word and stumbling line. Her fire was stoked by the glint of steel at night and the scrabble of poems written to the “lady by the sea”. It mattered not that Norfolk was on a river, not the Atlantic, the letters were addressed like that and she would be lying if she said she didn’t like the title. 

Constance peeled back the blankets to set free the cat trapped beneath the coverlet, and chuckled at a particularly horrid, if not well meant, line. Her eyes fixed on Jeannette and extended a calloused hand to the newcomer. 

“Constance Ramos. You must be Jeannette,” 

The redhead nodded, accepting the rough hand in her own and giving it a shake. “I don’t suppose we will be seeing a lot of each other. I’m on the day shift.” 

Constance shrugged. “We’ll be like ships in the night. We keep busy around here.” 

“Passes the time,” Bess agreed. 

“Between letters?” Jeannette guessed. 

“We sound crazy about those damn letters, don’t we?” Constance said, chuckling softly. Her bare feet didn’t make a sound on the wooden floor as she stretched out her aching muscles. “They keep us going, more than a war effort ever could. I can keep bolting sheets of metal when I know my soldier is alive and when I don’t hear from him, it gets heavier. Do you understand?” 

“I do,” Jeannette murmured. 

Those letters had made a ship to steer among the waves of this new world Jeannette found herself in. Uprooted and unfamiliar, she clung to the letters signed with their scribbled J and the indiscernible followers. The thought of buying that ticket from Pennsylvania to Virginia had been encouraged by the letters in her pocket. If he could be thousands of miles from home for her, she could be transplanted to a new state for the aid of the troops.   

Connie glanced over the books on the teetering pile of poetry on the desk as Bess hummed along to some tune.  “You like to read?” 

“Yes,” Jeannette said. “My mother had mostly Italian books but I have some in English now.” 

The English volumes had been collected over the years, from the window box of daisies to the exchanges on the hill overlooking the breaker. The last book, The Grapes of Wrath, had been the final exchange on that hill. He had been given his orders and was only on leave for a few days. He had brought her a book. He had asked if he could write to her. Jeannette had said yes. Jeannette had cried. There had been no romantic declarations or bouts of infatuation. The words had been plain, just how he liked them and how Jeannette despised them. 

Bess shut the wardrobe with a snap and turned, her skirt swishing around her knees and damp socks. “You a translator on base?” 

Jeannette paused, not sure how much was allowed to be discussed. This attic seemed as safe as could be but what did those posters promise? Ships sunk by the careless whispers of loose lips. Glancing at the window, as if a German spy would be listening from the third floor windowsill, Jeannette nodded quickly. 

“Oh you’ll likely see Estelle!” Bess cried. “She’s working as a computer on base.” 

Dumbfounded at the disregard for secrecy, Jeannette sputtered. “Shouldn’t we-” 

“Who’s going to hear us?” Connie shook her head. “We all know how to keep a secret.” 

Bess nodded, setting the now empty carpet bag on the neatly made bed. She hadn’t been kidding about her skills in unpacking. Jeannette had barely had time for a single melancholy notion about the blouse she had worn to the movies with her friends or the books with the coal stained fingerprints. Jeannette hadn’t noticed this room becoming her own but in the space of a few moments, it looked like her childhood bedroom. The quilt was the same, the books were present and accounted for. It looked like home. 

“Speaking of secrets,” Bess said, snatching up the patchy tabby cat set free from Connie’s bed and cuddled it tight to her black sweater, not minding the fur shed across the yarn. “Are you going to hide that poem from us, Connie?” 

Constance blushed. “Maybe Jeannette can give it an educated read. I’m dying to know if my pen pal has a future in the arts,” 

Jeannette flushed. Her hobby of studying beat, meter, and stanza had been an asset to her application for the NIS but she was hardly a professional. Perhaps, more of an avid appreciator. Her love of poetry hadn’t been the final mark in her favor for her application. The real seal to her employment had been the native fluency that having an Italian mother and late father provided. 

“I’d be delighted to provide an opinion,” Jeannette smiled, sitting on the lumpy mattress where she would rest her weary bones for the foreseeable future. 

Constance cleared her throat, making a big show of unfolding the letter and straightening her flannel pajamas. 

“Someday I'll get back to you/ When the war is finally won/Then you know just what we'll do In the sheets-” 

The rest was cut off by Bess’s shriek of surprise and a cackling laugh from Constance. Jeannette’s cheeks flushed red but couldn’t help a bark of laughter escaping her mouth, never mind the good and upstanding standard that Grisham ladies were known to uphold. 

“Do you all get such poems?” Jeannette wheezed. 

Bess’s mouth gaped in shock at such a suggestion, only furthering Constance’s giggles. 

“I have never gotten such a thing from-” Bessie started to say but was cut off by the appearance of Estelle in the doorway. Drawn by the laughter and shrieks, her brow furrowed at the neatly put together room but the girls in various states of disarray found there. 

“What’s all this then?” 

“Another poem,” Bess said. “And no, Jeannette, I don’t get that kind of poetry from Dar-” 

“Don’t say their names, Bessie,” Estelle chided, in the same sharp tone. As if Bess had put her handle onto a door she didn’t understand what lay beyond. “You’ll get attached.” 

“I’d say it’s too late for that,” Constance said, folding up the letter and stowing it under her pillow. It wasn’t a disagreement but the statement of a fact. 

“You say their name and they can break your heart,” Estelle said. It sounded as a warning to Jeannette.

“I don’t think names hold much power over love,” Jeannette whispered, almost to herself but Estelle heard. 

Estelle’s calculations were rarely wrong. In mathematics and personal life, her calculations were quite often correct. Estelle was known to be the guardian of the third floor, taking the wandering women under her wing. While Jeannette had seen an angel, Estelle was a self described tragedy. She sought a way to shield each girl who crossed the wooden floors of Grisham Hall from such flights toward the sun. 

“We don’t tempt fate here,” Estelle said, firmly. 

A silence stretched between them. Estelle’s dark gaze and small stature didn’t lend itself to the imposing figure she truly was. Jeannette didn’t think she was afraid of Estelle. Jeannette didn’t know what she thought. There was a truth behind her words. The war bubbled and boiled around them and one couldn’t make too many plans for the future. Jeannette didn’t like to think more than one letter ahead. 

“Estelle is ever so jaded,” Bess said, chuckling softly, trying to break the tension. 

“I’m wise beyond my years,” Estelle winked at Bess but her steady gaze sent Jeannette’s skin crawling. “We don’t say their names so we don’t have to say goodbye.” 

                                       *        *       *

To the real horatio, 

I don’t suppose you can tell me where you are but know that I am safe in Norfolk. Mother will be forwarding any of your letters down to me. The girls I’m living with are quite the characters. 

Bess is a little younger than me but such a dear thing. She’s the embodiment of springtime. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as happy as she is. Estelle seems to be the ringleader around here, like Adrian was to us in our childhood. I’m still forming an opinion on her. Constance is my roommate and we’ve gotten on like a house on fire. She works night shifts at the shipyard but when we do see each other it’s always good fun. We went to the cinema last week and saw Citizen Kane on her day off. She’s making songs on the piano out of her boyfriend’s poems. It’s very entertaining and has caused our landlady to faint out of shock more than once. There’s also a girl named Margo who lives on our floor. I haven’t met her for more than a few minutes but she seems lovely. 

I’m glad to know that your CO is gone, the dreadful beast. 

I’ve started to read the book you gave me. I’d like to read it to you sometime, like we did in high school on the breaker hill. If I sent you one of my books would you read it and think of me? 

Your letters, as always, brighten my day. I know you fear that you have nothing of any interest to say but I find anything you say of interest. You say your words are not poetic but there is poetry in everything you do. You want to fly through the sky and end the war. While that’s admirable, do you know that I don’t expect this from you? 

I’ve known you without money. I’ve known you without fame or excellence. I don’t care if you have either. 

You are probably bothered by my ‘damn flowery words’. We’ve grown up together. Surely you are fluent in my own language by now. 

It’s late. I have an early shift tomorrow. Be safe. 

Love, Nettie

[carpetcleaninginrichmondva-blog]

Carpet cleaning company in Richmond VA Virginia

Boiling Water Extraction Cleaning

Usually known as steam cover cleaning, heated water extraction cleaning use high compelled boiling water to foment the cover fiber and break up soil in the cover.

Carpet cleaning in Richmond VA Virginia Heated water extraction cleaning normally includes a use of cleaning specialist on dirtied surface, disturbance of cover with brush and took after by washing. Subsequent to cleaning specialist settle in the cover for a brief length, the cover will be "washed" by a cover cleaning gear to flush the cleaning operator altogether lastly left to dry in room or cooled temperature

A normal estimated covered office of 3000 sq ft would typically take around 2 hours to clean and will take no less than 4 hours to dry. Most organizations would encourage cover to be cleaned in the late evening so that after it is done, the cover can be left to dry over night and office operation can continue back to ordinary the following morning. carpet cleaning in Richmond Virginia

Carpet cleaning in Richmond VA Virginia

Cover Shampooing

Cleanser cover cleaning was well known till exemplification innovation was presented in the 1970s. While shampooing it might appear to clean vigorously filthy cover, the innovation's inconvenience - deserting high measure of wet froth buildups in the cover that sets aside a long opportunity to dry, winds up noticeably sticky when it dries on the grounds that no flushing is done subsequent to shampooing and quick re-dirtying of cover - makes this strategy less prominent than others.

Exemplification

Froth exemplification utilize manufactured cleaners as a base that will take shape into powder frame when dries. Extricated earth particles in cover fiber will be exemplified into powder when the connected cleaning froth dies and, at long last, vacuumed or brushed when the froth dries in the wake of cleaning.

The froth exemplification cleaning procedure has overwhelmed cover shampooing innovation as the previous uses less water amid cleaning which results in shorter drying time contrasted with the cover shampooing. The froth epitome tidying has gotten thumbs up by the individuals who advocate utilizing of ecological well-disposed items on the grounds that there is less compound build up abandoned in the wake of cleaning contrasted with cover shampooing.

In spite of the fact that this system has indicated great cleaning comes about, this cleaning strategy has not possessed the capacity to altogether clean overwhelming ruining floor covering in view of the innovation's impediment. carpet cleaning in Richmond Virginia

Hood Cleaning

This cover cleaning produces great surface cleaning result as the procedure, for the most part, include cleaning the best piece of the cover fiber utilizing a substantial obligation mechanized machine with a turning cushion that has been drenched with cleaning answer for assimilating soil from the cover surface.

Carpet cleaning in Richmond VA Virginia Bonneting is mainstream in lodgings since it can give a convenient solution answer for clean cover in overwhelming movement open range that expects the cover to be cleaned without much dampness and can dry rapidly to anticipate making other in visitors.

Since bonneting does not spotless cover profoundly, earth underneath the cover would develop back to the surface inside brief time frame, making rug get grimy again rapidly. Bonneting additionally tends to cause aggregation of concoction builds up in the cover as weight from the overwhelming machine on the turning cushion push the connected synthetic and staying soil into the cover.

Dry Carpet Cleaning

Dry cover cleaning or compound cleaning is one of the most recent cleaning innovation found in the market and has increased expanding notoriety and endorsements by driving floor covering makers in light of its successful cleaning execution and comfort as it doesn't require drying time.

Since it was designed in the 1980s, there are many sorts of cleaning compound or powders that have been produced in the market. As this innovation is considered moderately new contrasted with other ordinary wet cover cleaning strategies that have been trusted and utilized for quite a long time, many still uncertainty the adequacy of this cleaning innovation.

The feature is the utilization of cleaning compound or powder into the base piece of cover utilizing a mechanized counter pivoting brush machine to open up the cover fiber and enable the compound to settle inside, bringing about exhaustive profound cover cleaning result.

Cleaning compound is ordinarily made of biodegradable material that works like smaller scale wipes, which can adequately retain broke up the earth in the cover and can be expelled altogether toward the finish of the procedure.

Diverse hardware makers separate themselves by building up their own particular cleaning compound or powders recipe and modifying their gear plan and capacity. Carpet cleaning in Richmond  Virginia

Dry cover cleaning is ok for a wide range of cover and prescribed for business workplaces that need to work 24 hours, 7 days seven days, as the operation in the workplace require not be upset amid the cover cleaning process. Carpet cleaning in Richmond VA Virginia

[wondersofdreaming]

Lost Boys - SEVEN

Characters: August Walker / Captain Syverson / Walter Marshall

Word count: 1.514

Warnings: Unloving parent. Beating. Alcoholic parent. Threats. Death. DUI. Drunk driving.

Author’s note: Everything in this story is a figment of my imagination, with inspiration and snippets from the movies ‘Mission: Impossible - Fallout’, ‘Sand Castle’, ‘Nomis/Night Hunter’. This is pure fanfiction. If something doesn’t make sense, it’s not supposed to.

I do now own any of the characters from the movies that I write about in this story. Only the OFC’s are mine.

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Feedback is appreciated.

MASTERLIST

[ONE] [TWO] [THREE] [FOUR] [FIVE] [SIX] [EIGHT] [NINE] [TEN]

Oliver felt the weight of his new foster father’s hand on his shoulder, as they walked away from his brothers, his only family, but he was hopeful that they would see each other again, knowing that his older brothers would either find him or he would search for them when the right time came.

The flight to Virginia was long, and his foster father, Arthur Walker, wasn’t a talkative person. His clean-shaven jawline was tense. Oliver could practically see how the muscles were strained. Arthur had short raven black hair, brown eyes, and an aura around him that made Oliver feel cold and wanted to keep his distance. Amanda Walker was a petite woman with shoulder-length hair the colour of coal. Her chocolate brown eyes had shown happiness when he had walked over to them after he had said goodbye to James and Trevor, but a stern look from Arthur and her smile had disappeared.

Arthur and Amanda introduced Oliver to their daughter, who was six months old. She had been at her paternal grandparents’ house, and she instantly loved Oliver. She crawled on her tiny legs and hands towards Oliver, who backed away from the baby.

“It’s okay, Oliver. That is Ashley, our daughter. I think she likes you,” Amanda picked up the little girl and took a step towards Oliver, who moved backwards, shaking his head no.

“Boy, go sit down,” Arthur commanded sternly. Oliver walked in a huge bow around Amanda and Ashley, before he sat down on the sofa. “Mandy put her down. He has to learn to be near her eventually.”

Amanda sighed softly and sat down Ashley. Oliver kept a close eye on the baby, who gurgled at him. She smiled at him, showing off a single tooth. He started calming down, warming up to the giggling baby, whose happiness was contagious. In a matter of moments, he started to smile at her, just to keep her in a good mood.

Months passed without anything happening. Arthur was distant and didn’t really want anything to do with Oliver. Amanda was a sweet and kind foster mother, who was attentive and caring, at least when her husband wasn’t around. Arthur worked as a salesman at some company that Oliver knew nothing about. He liked being with Ashley and Amanda at home.

“Look here, Ollie,” Amanda motioned for him to come closer to the telescope they had set up in the backyard. It was in the evening and the stars were starting to show on the night sky.

Oliver peeked into the scope; he saw the moon closer than he had ever seen it before. Amanda adjusted the telescope again and let Oliver see the different stars.

“The brightest star is called ‘Polaris’ or the ‘North Star’, it doesn’t move much. If you ever get lost and don’t have a compass, use the stars to guide yourself home or to your destination.”

“How do I do that?” Oliver asked. Amanda gave him a soft smile and told him that ‘Polaris’ would show him where north was, and if he couldn’t find the North Star, he should try to find Orion’s constellation. Below Orion’s belt was three stars, where the bottom star, from his shoulders, were the tip of his sword and would point towards south.

“Amanda!” Both of them whipped their heads to the back door, where Arthur stood with a beer in his hand. He stumbled across the deck and kicked the telescope. “Stop filling his mind with silly things. He needs to learn skills he can use for when he becomes a man.”

Oliver looked angrily at his foster father. Tears were slowly pouring down Amanda’s cheeks, but she didn’t say anything, nor did she defend herself.

“I can use this,” he said, squaring his shoulders, setting his jaw, looking his scary foster father in the eyes.

“Do not talk back to me, boy.”

“Or what?”

The alcohol smell was strong when Arthur slapped Oliver’s right cheek. Amanda gasped and ran inside. She couldn’t watch what was going to happen to Oliver. She had been there.

“If you ever cross me again, boy, I will hurt you worse than this,” Arthur’s voice was filled with malice and fury. Oliver collected himself and walked towards his bedroom. He closed the door softly as not to wake the sleeping Ashley next door. He leaned against the wood and sank to the carpeted floor. The salty liquid wetting his reddened cheek.

Oliver tried his best to be brave in front of Arthur, who came home often drunk and angry. If Amanda didn’t have dinner ready, when he got home, he would slap her over and over again, until she apologized. Other times he would throw things at her when she shyly gave her opinion on something. When Oliver told him off, the boy would get a beating, and it became worse as time went by.

He was even forced to tell the social services that he was happy with the Walker’s when Arthur said he wanted to adopt Oliver. Else Arthur would have punched his own flesh and blood, Ashley, which Oliver couldn’t accept.

“From today on, you’re going to be August Christopher Walker. I will teach you how to be a real man.”

As the years went by, August became smarter and grew stronger, much stronger than Arthur. At the age of 18, he was about to leave for college, when Arthur came into his bedroom, drunk off his ass as usual.

“Boy, what are you going to major in?” He asked in a slurred voice.

“Psychology.”

August kept packing his things, while Arthur was hovering over him. The usual smell of bourbon and beer hung around the old man.

“Psychology is for pussies. Change it.”

“No.”

“No?”

August stood from being bent over his suitcase, packing his astronomy books that Amanda had given him over the years.

“I’m not changing my major.”

“Do not talk back at me, boy!”

“I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow,” August moved around his adoptive father to gather his clothes. “If I hear that you’ve as much as touched mom or Ashley, I will come back and then you will be sorry.”

The last sentence came out as a whisper, but he felt that Arthur heard him, when he gasped.

“You little shit! I’ve given you everything!”

“And you’ve taken everything from me as well!”

Arthur’s nose flared, his eyes caught fire, and he was raising his fist, but August quickly shoved the old man out of the room and smacked the door right in his face. Arthur tried smashing in the door, but he was too drunk.

“Fine, you can go to hell!” He heard the drunkard yell from the other side. August sighed and continued to pack his things. A moment later he heard a soft knock.

“Gus? It’s Lee, may I come in?”

August went to let his little sister in and locked the door again. The young teen went to sit on his bed and looked into his open luggage.

“What’s going on, sis?” He asked, noticing the frown plastered on her sweet face.

“I’m scared,” her voice was barely a whisper. August knelt in front of her. He pulled her small frame into his embrace and hugged all the anxiety out of her.

“I’m not that far away. I will have my phone on me always, so don’t ever hesitate to call me.”

Ashley nodded.

“And try to stay out of his way. I promise to get you and mom out of here, when I can, okay?”

“Okay. I love you, Gus.”

“I love you too, Lee. Go back to bed, before he finds out you’re still awake. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He walked his sister back to her room, tucked her in and kissed her forehead.

“Goodnight, little sister.”

“Goodnight, big brother.”

“I’ll always watch over you.”

A line he had told her many times, and he had kept until he went away for college. A year into his studies, he got a call from a sobbing Amanda.

Arthur had picked up Ashley from school while drunk. On the way back home, he had driven them both over a bridge. Father and daughter had died instantly.

August stood over their tombstones. Crying over the death of his beloved little sister. Amanda stood next to him, clinging to his arm.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here, mom,” he said sadly.

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. It was mine. I should have left him years ago, when he started beating you too, but I was too weak, too scared, too everything to take the chance.”

“You did what you thought was best.”

“And it cost us Ashley.”

She sniffled, kissed his cheek and went to wait in the car. August’s eyes filled with hatred as he looked at his adoptive father’s tombstone.

“I will set the world on fire before I ever let someone like you have the power over me or anyone else again,” his whisper was cold and deadly, as he walked towards the waiting car.

[the-original-b]

Archangel: High Society

Format: Prose / Fiction, one-shot

Word Count: c. 8,400

Krueger and Khai embark on a rescue operation deep in enemy territory, where they come face to face with a dangerous foe.

Warning(s): blood, violence, brief nudity

Khai sat at the conference room desk buried in charts and reports, long after everyone else had left the office. She thought she would get better at it with time, but long after Simon’s passing her work as the Manhattan Branch’s controller hadn’t gotten any easier.

Somehow it seemed more difficult after the promotion was made formal just a few short weeks ago.

She leaned back in the old chair and sighed, resting her glasses on the stack of papers that never seemed to shrink. She shut her eyes and rubbed her eyelids with her thumb and first finger as she wondered how the Partners could ever think she was even remotely qualified to run the place.

The ringing phone was a welcome distraction. She straightened up and answered without putting her spectacles back on. “Elizabeth Khai’s office,” she answered. She still wasn’t used to saying that.

“Liz?” the man on the other end said. His age added a rasp to his voice. “Chuck Silvio. Congratulations again on your promotion.”

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Silvio.” She relaxed a little, leaning back in the chair again and crossing her legs. “It’s been a while, how are you these days?”

“Not bad, not bad. The Miami weather’s good for me.”

“I bet,” she said with a chuckle. In her mind’s eye she could see him leaning back in his chair at the office, mirroring her posture. She turned in her chair to watch the rain drops streak down the window overlooking Sixth Avenue. “Beats the hell out of the cold rain.”

“Oh, it gets plenty wet here too,” he commented, matching her laugh. “Trust me.”

“I’ll take your word for it… So, what can I do for you?”

“You remember my little shithead son, right?”

“CJ? Of course.” Khai reached out for her glasses and put them back on one-handed. “As I recall, Specialist Krueger and I helped him out of a mess with the Company last year.”

“And I can’t thank you two enough for that,” Silvio added. “Really… But those connections don’t wash away so easy. The Jackass is going to some kind of get-together in Williamsburg, Virginia,” he began. “A big gala on the water at the end of the week.”

“Williamsburg is Company territory,” Khai noted. “You think they’re trying him again?”

“Not a doubt in my mind,” he said, “and I need to borrow Mr. Krueger to get him out of another mess.”

“He’s cleaning up a snafu in Cape Cod,” Khai noted, consulting her desktop calendar partially obscured by a takeout container from Tillman’s in which sat a half-eaten steak sandwich and handful of fries. “He should be back tomorrow night, but I’m not certain as to what his schedule looks like afterward.”

“I talked to Isaac,” Silvio said. “He’ll be available.”

Khai offered a shrug as if he could see it. “Well, alright..! I’ll get him in the schedule and make the arrangements.”

“Perfect,” Silvio said as Khai keyed the password to her desktop computer. “One of my guys got his hands on a few tickets, we can have one overnighted to you.” She summoned Krueger’s calendar to enter his travel dates.

She paused before saving the entry and leaned back in her chair again. “Say, do you think you can send two tickets up here?”

“Thinking about attending a waterside gala, Miss Khai?” His smirk was audible.

“I did pick up this lovely gown the other day,” she jested. “I need an excuse to wear it… I can have Everett keep an eye on things while I’m away.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to cover for you while you’re out having some fun,” Silvio chuckled. “I’ll send a pair of tickets up to the Branch. Thanks again for this, Liz.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Silvio. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Khai hit the lever in the phone’s cradle to end the call with Silvio, then released it to dial his number.

He answered after a few rings. “Good evening, Miss Khai,” he said.

“Hello, there,” she charmed. “You feel like taking me someplace nice this weekend?”

~~~~

Krueger reviewed the fabric samples the tailor offered him, and after narrowing down his selection for the outer layer to a solid black and textured medium gray, revisited the options for the lining. “Do you do waistcoats as well?” he asked the tailor.

“Certainly,” he replied.

Krueger nodded. He looked over his shoulder at Khai, in the room with them with her gown folded over her arms. He picked a few fabric samples up off the table and held them out in front of him, lining them up with the portion of the gown he could see from where he stood. He shut one eye as he scrutinized each sample; each of them matched the shade of her gown almost perfectly. “What shoes will you be wearing?” he asked her.

“The black ankle strap round-toes,” she said. “With the red soles.”

Krueger knew them. That narrowed his decision down. “This one,” he said, handing it to the tailor.

“Excellent choice,” he noted. He jotted the selections down in his note pad. “What style did you want for them?”

“British.”

“And the fit?”

“Modern.”

“And that’s two buttons, yes? The same as before?”

“Two buttons, that’s right,” Krueger nodded. “I’ll need a shirt as well.”

“Of course,” the tailor said. “Give me a moment and I’ll return with the samples.” The tailor took his leave with his notes.

Shortly after he left, another person entered the room—a brown-skinned man in his early thirties with a ten day beard. “Sorry you guys,” he said. “Collision on the Belt Parkway took out the left lane.”

“No worries, Brandon. We haven’t left yet.”

Krueger arched a brow at their newcomer.

“Oh, right,” Khai noted, “you two haven’t formally met… Milo this is Brandon Desmoulins, my tech expert out of Brooklyn.”

“The one who decrypted Orham’s files?” Krueger said, offering the man a hand to shake. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“No, the honor is mine, Mr. Krueger.” Brandon shook Krueger’s hand, then reached into his jacket pocket to pull a pair of two-by-six inch slivers of card stock. Khai recognized them as the gala tickets. “They’re usually keyed to the individuals who purchased them, but our guys in the Southeast Region were able to wipe these two. Which means,” he continued as he retrieved his laptop from his backpack, “We got a pair of blank slates for you guys.” He opened the computer and took a seat at the table.

“Well,” Khai said, taking a spot beside Krueger as she looked over Brandon’s shoulder at the monitor, “I’ve never been somebody else before, so why not?”

“You can be the Queen of England if you like.”

“Sure,” Khai scoffed. “I’m the spitting image of her.”

“You know,” Krueger jested. “I think I see it. Turn your head a little…”

“Oh, like this..?” she added laughing to herself. “And you, Sebastian?”

“Not this time,” he noted. “The Company knows Sebastian Weber. They said my eyes gave me away in Miami, I’ll need a disguise as well as a new name.”

Brandon turned in his seat to look at him. “You look like a Michael to me.” He brought his hand to his lip as he considered naming him. “Michael Fff… Fuchs.”

Krueger shrugged. “That works.”

“Mike Fuchs it is,” Brandon declared. He loaded one of the tickets into a fist-sized portable printer and keyed in Krueger’s new alias. In moments, the device wrote a barcode and etched the name into the document’s face. “Hope you like it, cos it’s too late to change. As for the peepers, we should be able to get you contact lenses pretty easily.”

Krueger nodded. “The more common the color the better.”

“Can’t go wrong with brown ones… and you.” He turned over his other shoulder to look at Khai. “I’m thinking Samantha. Samantha…”

“Nguyen,” she suggested.

“Good as anything else, I guess.” He loaded Khai’s ticket into the printer and coded it to her new identity. When the printer was done he presented them their tickets. “There we go—Michael Fuchs and Samantha Nguyen. Just a pair of run-of-the-mill socialites and definitely not high ranking members of the Marlow Partners’ organization.”

Khai took the tickets and studied them before handing Krueger his. “Nice work as always.”

“For you two, nothing but the best.” He shut his laptop and returned it to his backpack. “There is one more thing—I keyed in Vizier Status to those tickets, it’ll let you carry a pistol on the premises. Probably not necessary, but if you guys are going into the lions’ den, I figured you’d prefer to be armed.”

“Good thinking,” Krueger nodded.

Khai checked the clock on the far wall. “Don’t know if we’ll have time to head to the armory today—”

“No need,” Krueger said. “I know exactly what I’ll take for this one—the Five-Seven. With hollow points.”

“Not the armor penetrators?”

“I’d like to avoid collateral damage,” he said. “Even there.”

Khai couldn’t disagree with his logic. “Fair enough. I’ll just have to swing by after hours and see what I’ll be able to conceal in this.”

The tailor returned to the room with another collection of fabrics. “Here we are,” he said. “Given what I understand about this gathering, I went ahead and narrowed down the usual selection.”

Krueger walked over to view what was offered. Immediately he was drawn to a textured sanguine red.

“Do you like that one?”

“I do,” Krueger admitted. “But that’s not what we’re here for today…” He redirected his glance to something more conservative and examined the samples. “Can you conceal the buttons?”

“I certainly can. What color do you want for them?”

“Black.”

Khai leaned against the table beside Brandon as she observed the two of them, her gown still folded over her arms. “So,” she said to him.

“So..?”

“So does he live up to your expectations?”

“Honestly?” Brandon returned with a whisper. “I thought he would be taller.”

 ~~~~~~

Krueger opened his door and stepped out of the limousine when the driver brought the vehicle to a stop. He offered Khai his hand and helped her out of the car as they walked up the red carpet to an elegant villa overlooking the James River, nestled in the heart of a luxurious resort and golf club. A black evening shawl rested on her shoulders beneath her hair and draped over her contours, drawing any onlookers’ eyes to her crimson long sleeve gown with a thigh-high slit up the right side. She traded her usual eyewear for contact lenses and colored her lips the same shade as the gown. Her shoes called attention to Krueger’s outfit—a black suit and tie over a crisp white shirt and crimson waistcoat with a subdued black print.

Together they approached the open front door of the venue, where they presented their invitations to the staffer there. He reviewed their tickets and asked if they were carrying; Krueger opened his jacket to expose the Five-Seven tucked in the holster under his left arm. The staffer cleared them for entry and directed them to the coat check a few yards into the foyer, where Khai deposited her shawl and looked up a grand stair case that split toward the top as it led to the second floor.

“No hassle so far,” she noted sotto voce.

“Don’t let your guard down,” Krueger whispered as they went deeper into the building and found their way to the main atrium. “We’re in the hornets’ nest now.”

Khai took a breath as she beheld the main atrium, an ornately decorated love letter to excess and decadence. Marble columns stretched from floor to ceiling in each of the room’s four corners, and a gargantuan crystal chandelier dangled from the center to illuminate the room. Bicolor marble tiles covered the entire floor space, and the walls were adorned with recreations of famous paintings watching over the tables and dance floor. Finally a huge pair of French doors opened up to a terrace overlooking the water and setting sun, where there were likely more food and drink stations to satisfy the patrons there.

“Remember,” he continued, “we’re here for Silvio.”

“Right,” she nodded. “I remember.” She scanned the room some more, noting the food stations along one wall ending in a carving table, and the well-appointed bar opposite them. “It’s just a shame we have to be here for work.”

“Well,” Krueger smirked, resting his hand on her hip to pull her closer, “maybe Michael Fuchs and Samantha Nguyen can return and spend a week on the resort grounds someday.”

“Don’t you go giving me ideas now…” She brushed her hand on the small of his back as she took a few steps deeper into the room. “We’ll cover more ground if we spit up to work the room.”

“I’ll start outside,” Krueger said, and they went their separate ways to look for CJ Silvio.

 ~~

They met up at the inside bar after a futile forty minutes. Khai ordered a glass of pinot noir while Krueger ordered a gin martini. “Did you fare any better than me?” he asked her, leaning against the mahogany finish.

Khai shook her head after thanking the bartender for her wine and taking a sip. “His father said he would be here.”

“Is he usually late to gatherings like this?”

“I don’t think he’s ever been to a gathering like this,” she jested, turning around and leaning against the bar top to look at the room again. “Way too classy an audience for him—” her eyes widened and jaw gaped for a moment before springing around to turn her back to the room and mouthing “shit..!”

“What is it?”

“White tux,” she responded with an almost inaudible whisper. “Don’t look.”

Krueger discreetly scanned the room to try and spot the person or thing that so completely and immediately terrified her. “I think I see him,” he said, matching her tone. “Tall, gray, handsome fellow?”

“That’s Osiris. In the flesh.”

Krueger turned back to face Khai and accept his cocktail. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

“Roland Preston,” she explained, maintaining her volume. “He controls Company operations across the entire Eastern Seaboard and as far west as Chicago. He’s every bad day Isaac and Charles ever had.” She paused to consider the implications of his presence. “If he’s here for the same reason we are…”

“Then we better find CJ first,” Krueger surmised.

Khai nodded. “Alright, new plan,” she said as she straightened herself up and took another sip of wine to collect herself. “We stick together.” She took Krueger’s hand and led him toward the French doors and the terrace beyond them. “We stay out of his sight, find someplace with good visibility to look for Silvio, then collect him and get out of here.”

“And if Osiris finds him before we do?”

Khai took a breath. “Then I hope you have more bullets than there are bodyguards in this place.”

 ~~

The two of them stayed on the terrace overlooking the water for the remainder of cocktail hour, and when the time came for them to find their seats they quietly made their way to a table near the dance floor with a good view of the bar. As Krueger understood, they would have the best chance of spotting CJ Silvio from there.

About twenty minutes into the reception, his wager paid off. He spotted CJ Silvio, dressed in a neat black suit and tie, nearly running after a blonde woman in a short dress on his way to the bar. It was obvious to Krueger that this woman wanted nothing to do with him anymore, and it appeared Young Silvio was looking to redeem himself after some unseen slight. After a short while he gave up and turned to get the bartender’s attention.

“I think we should order a drink,” he said, subtly gesturing the bar.

Khai followed his nod to the person in question. “Good idea.”

She stood up shortly after him and followed Krueger toward their target, but they were intercepted by a tall, classically handsome green eyed man with gray swept-back hair and manicured mustache. “And here I thought I was well-dressed this evening, then you two come along and show me up so elegantly.” He addressed them with a rich, honeyed voice, wearing a white tuxedo jacket and dark slacks with a crisp black bowtie. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, offering Khai his hand. “Roland Preston. This is my gala.”

Khai discreetly swallowed her terror and flashed him a warm smile. “I wondered whose party this was!” she extolled. “Samantha Nguyen,” she said, shaking his hand. “And this is my partner, Michael.”

Krueger followed her lead, keeping CJ in sight. “Michael Fuchs,” he introduced himself. “This is a lovely party,” he continued as he shook Osiris’s hand.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Fuchs,” he said. “So, tell me how it is I’ve never seen you here before, dressed like that.”

“Kind of a long story,” Khai said. “Mike, would you mind?” she said, gesturing the bar.

“Of course,” he said, making his way toward the indicated area. “You had the pinot noir, yes?”

“I did, thank you.” She redirected her attention to Osiris, guiding him away from CJ as she explained. “Michael and I run a small IT setup. We were stationed in Southern California until last December, but we found a better opportunity out here.”

“Is that so?” Osiris returned. “And how are you liking the East Coast so far?”

“Oh, we love it! It’s like we’ve lived here all our lives..!”

 ~~

Krueger made his way to the bar as Khai distracted Osiris, and stationed himself adjacent to CJ as he ordered a pinot noir and gin martini, slipping the bartender a few bills. “No frozen margaritas here, unfortunately,” he said to him.

CJ looked over his shoulder at the other man. “Huh?”

“This isn’t a poolside party. You’ll have to order smarter if you want to blend into this crowd. You can’t go wrong with one of the classics. A martini, or an Old-Fashioned if that’s more your speed.”

CJ quickly shook his head, befuddled. “Do I know you, man?”

“You do.” He finally turned to face CJ. “Also not a great idea to chase women here. Especially not when you have a baby on the way.”

CJ shut his eyes tight and opened them again as he leaned in, squinting at Krueger as he placed where he’d seen him before. “Sebastian—?”

“Not tonight. Tonight I’m accompanying your boss while she and I do your father a favor.” He gestured to his right at Osiris and Khai as they conversed. “Before you make a fool of yourself and say something you’ll regret, yes that is her in red. And she’s stopping that man from finding out who you are, because if he did, you’ll be dead by dawn or worse.”

Speechless, CJ looked over his shoulder at Khai and Osiris, then back at Krueger.

CJ’s disbelief informed Krueger he was completely unaware of the depth of the trouble he was in. “We’re trying to help you,” Krueger continued, “so let us help you. Leave,” he ordered. “Get your coat, call a taxi, and get as far away from this city as you can as quickly as you can. And then call your father to apologize.”

CJ nodded sheepishly, then retreated from the main atrium back toward the entrance.

Krueger watched Silvio exit the room as he reclaimed his drinks from the bartender, making sure he thanked him.

“Mr. Fuchs,” Osiris got Krueger’s attention. “Samantha was just telling me you head security for your company.”

He turned to face Osiris, having to turn his gaze upward slightly to establish eye contact. “That’s right,” he said, handing Khai her beverage. “I used to be a consultant in the field, but she made me a better offer,” he said with a smirk. “She still lets me freelance every now and then.”

“It keeps him happy,” Khai jested. “He would get bored otherwise.”

“Boy do I understand that,” Osiris added, laughing. “Would you mind lending me your input for a moment? I’ve been looking for ways to tighten security and upgrade networks for a few of my operations, and I can benefit from an outside opinion.”

Krueger and Khai discreetly shot each other looks. “I wouldn’t want to impose,” he said.

“Please, it won’t take much time at all,” he charmed. “Then I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” Khai said.

“Excellent,” Osiris extolled. “If you’d follow me to my office upstairs,” he gestured the hallway before them. “You can take your drinks with you.”

“Lead the way,” Krueger said. He put himself between Khai and Osiris as they followed him out the main atrium and toward the front lobby.

 ~~

“So what did you say your industry was, Mr. Preston?” Krueger asked.

“Logistics, primarily,” Osiris answered, leading Krueger and Khai up the stairs. “Transportation of goods, and occasionally providing security services for those transported goods… the yardstick to inter-state commerce.” He turned left at the split to lead them down a hallway, and Krueger kept a mental tally of the staff they passed. “But some people don’t see it that way,” he lamented. “They would see my logistics operation crumble, and have attacked me through less-than-legal means,” he explained as he turned right and led them into an elegant office space. A mahogany desk sat before a massive window, to their left was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, and to their right a coffee table and lounge area with a few cozy-looking couches. The carpet below their feet was a rich red. “So I’ll have to do the same, if I’m going to survive,” he concluded, turning to face them.

“Uh-huh… and these less-than-legal methods,” Khai put forth as Krueger went to rest his martini on the lounge table, “how do you presume we’ll be able to help you?” She turned to look over her shoulder as two more staffers closed the office doors behind them. Once again she closed the distance between Krueger and herself.

Osiris simply smirked and stepped aside, allowing them to see a shiny piece of gold-colored metal atop the mahogany desk. “Do either of you know what this is?”

They could both see it was a gun, a large hand cannon with a long, ported slide and barrel. Neither of them recognized the exact model.

Osiris picked the firearm up off the desk and held it in his hand. “This was a gift from some associates out west,” he explained. “It’s big, heavy, impossible to conceal, and poorly designed.” He reversed the gun in his hand to show them the lack of padding on the rear of the grip. “It shoots giant bullets, and has nothing to ease the recoil from those bullets, so it hurts every single time I shoot it. I don’t have the heart to tell the guys who gave this to me how much I hate it, but,” he continued as he loaded a five-round magazine into the hand cannon, “it makes a statement. Just know that every time I pull the trigger, I really want the guy or girl on the business end of this thing to understand that statement. So… to answer your question, Miss Khai,” he added as he pulled back the slide and released to chamber a round. “I think you’re opinion on what’s less than legal is well-qualified, as that is your area of expertise.”

Khai blinked and recoiled as her stomach sank when he called her by name. She backed toward the door almost subconsciously as Krueger stepped up between them to shield her.

Osiris’s lip curled into a sinister smirk as he stepped up to close the distance between them. “Yes,” he began. “I know who you are, Elizabeth Margaret Khai. Operations Controller for the Marlow Partners up north. I knew who you were the moment I laid eyes on you. Which would make you,” he directed his gaze—and cannon—to Krueger, “the specialist she hired to make sense of the organization again… Sebastian Weber? But we both know that’s not your real name. Neither is Michael Fuchs.”

“Congratulations,” Krueger commented, “you’re clairvoyant.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourselves,” he said, “you certainly would have fooled anybody else.” He took a few more steps toward them, and had them backed against the wall. “You know, you cost me a lot in Miami, Specialist—it took years to get three of my guys close to Silvio’s son… But they succeeded posthumously; he ended up here tonight after all. So while I can’t be too angry with you, holding onto any amount of anger is unhealthy. So…” He lowered the hand cannon to abdomen-level and fired, catching Krueger in the left ribs and dropping him to the floor almost instantly.

Khai stifled a scream and jumped away from them, back toward the lounge table as Osiris freed his hand. He held onto the cannon with his left as he rhythmically flexed his right and winced, groaning. She distanced herself further from him, heading toward the mahogany desk by the window as her eyes darted from Osiris in front of her to Krueger motionless on the floor. As Osiris looked back over his shoulder to face her she wished, prayed, Krueger would start moving again.

“Now there’s the matter of what punishment best suits you,” he dictated. “Maybe Young Silvio can give us some ideas. What do you think?”

“I think you’re a little late for his opinion,” Khai said, consciously slowing her speech just enough to hide her fear from him.

“Am I?” he queried. He took a conspicuous glance at the watch on his left wrist, and CJ Silvio was brought into the office by two of the staffers mere moments later, sporting a split lip and bleeding brow. Osiris dropped his hand and approached her again, carrying his cannon, and she recoiled almost immediately, but was stopped by the desk behind her. “Did you really think I would let any of you leave this place alive?”

Motion in Khai’s periphery gave her the cue she so desperately looked for earlier, giving her the boost in confidence she needed to act. “Lapse in judgement,” she said, shrugging. “Happens to the best of us.” She immediately threw her right knee into Osiris’s groin and dove to her left, hitting the floor and reaching for a subcompact Glock 26 she had holstered on the inside of her left thigh as Krueger—still on the floor—reached for his Five-Seven.

Krueger raised his handgun and fired six times in rapid succession, landing all his shots in Osiris’s back, while Khai struck each of the staffers in the room twice with well-placed shots from her handgun.

Osiris collapsed to his hands and knees, taking a labored breath as he turned to face Krueger, Khai, and CJ. He raised his hand cannon one more time, but lacked the strength to keep it at the ready; he dropped the gun to the floor and fell onto his side, coughing blood and grabbing at his chest.

Slowly, Krueger made it to his knees and holstered his weapon, then moved his hand to his side while he doubled over in pain. He propped himself up against the doorway while he tried to catch his breath.

When she was sure he wasn’t too badly hurt, Khai sat up to re-holster her handgun then stood to look down at Osiris. She crouched down to pick up his hand cannon and raised it one-handed to hold him in the sights. “The Partners send their regards,” she said. Then she squeezed the trigger, striking Osiris in the chest.

The recoil nearly wrenched the cannon from her grip. Shocked, she looked at the weapon in her hand in disbelief. She realized Osiris wasn’t lying about the weapon’s design flaws, but ultimately agreed with him about its ability to make a statement.

She rushed over to Krueger and knelt down in front of him, placing Osiris’s hand cannon on the floor to examine his wound. To her relief, she found he wasn’t bleeding. “Are you alright?”

Krueger nodded. “Armor saved my life,” he noted between shallow breaths.

This, as well as his apparent refusal to remove his right hand from his left side, worried Khai. She looked up at CJ, who was just getting back onto his feet after the violence that unfolded around him. “We have to get him out of here now,” she declared.

CJ agreed. “Say no more,” he said. “When they scooped me up they brought me back in through a side entrance. We can use it to slip away without them noticing.” He went to stand and wipe some blood from his brow.

“Do you remember where that exit is, by any chance?”

“End of the hall to the right.” CJ went toward the front door to pull a fire alarm mounted near it. “That should buy us some more time and cover.”

“Good thinking…” She turned back to address Krueger. “I’m going to help you up, Milo,” she said, taking his hand in hers and putting his arm around her shoulders. She propped him up onto his feet and stood up with him; when she was sure he could stand on his own, she retrieved her Glock from its holster once more and eyed CJ. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” CJ noted. He searched the two bodies on the floor next to him, and found a set of car keys.

 ~~

Khai peered around the doorway into the hall, and popped back behind cover after spotting half a dozen armed men and women on their way up the stairs, likely to investigate the noise in Osiris’s office. “Damn it,” she hissed. “I hope you’re a good shot, CJ.”

“He won’t have to be,” Krueger said, retrieving his Five-Seven from inside his jacket and handing it to him. “Keep their heads down with this, get them to retreat to the lobby while we find our way down.”

CJ reluctantly took the handgun and took a breath to prepare himself. Then he popped out from behind the doorway and squeezed the trigger several times in the general direction of the event staff. Khai and Krueger took the opportunity to make a break further down the hallway, and CJ scrambled to follow them as he emptied the magazine down the hall.

They made it to the emergency exit stairwell at end of the hall, just where CJ said it would be, by the time the gun was dry. Khai turned around and un-holstered her Glock, bracing herself against the doorway, and took aim. She targeted not the guards but the light fixtures above them. She fired three times at the one between them and her, and succeeded in breaking the thin chain that held it to drop the chandelier and slow the guards.

In the chaos and panic among the other guests, they snuck out the side and around the back of the villa to a parking lot. CJ led them through, tapping the unlock button on the key fob he lifted to guide them to the car it belonged to. When he found the SUV, he hopped into the driver’s seat while Khai joined Krueger in the back to nurse his wound. CJ put the car into drive and took off, passing an oncoming ambulance on his way off the resort grounds.

“Easy,” Khai said from the back seat. “We don’t need to call any attention to ourselves.” She undid Krueger’s waistcoat and shirt, then carefully opened the body armor underneath. She turned the light on above them to get a better look, noting a small cut in his side where the bullet struck the armor as well as some bruising and swelling, confirming her fears. “See if you can find a pharmacy,” she said. “Or anywhere we can pick up a first aid kit. We need to treat his rib fracture.”

“Not to question you,” he said, “but is that really for the best? We should probably get out of Williamsburg, or at least as far away from the resort as possible.”

Krueger nodded. “I agree. Call your father or Isaac. See if they can arrange to get us out of here.” He winced as he straightened up in his seat. “Then we can worry about fixing me.”

 ~~

Khai waited with Krueger in the parking lot of a CVS some twenty miles from the resort, and conferred with Charles Silvio over the phone while CJ went inside to pick up the first aid supplies she detailed for him. Upon his return with the equipment, Khai explained the situation for them all to hear.

“I spoke to your father,” she said, opening the rear door to step out and meet him outside the idling car. “He thinks the best thing for us right now is to lie low for the night while the dust settles, then he’ll send somebody in the morning for us.”

“So we’re spending the night here?” CJ confirmed. “Balls deep in hostile territory..?”

“I’m afraid so…”

“We’ll need lodging,” Krueger said from the car’s rear bench. “I spotted a discreet motel on the way here.”

“That’s perfect,” Khai said. “They shouldn’t ask questions.” She took the first aid supplies from CJ and stepped back into the car. “Take us to the motel,” she ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” CJ sighed.

 ~~

Upon their arrival at the motel, CJ stopped the engine to let Khai out and the two of them helped Krueger onto his feet. He followed them from the car to the entrance, and together they made it to the reception area and got the host’s attention.

“Welcome and good evening,” he said. “How may I help you?”

“Hi,” Khai said, fighting to filter the adrenaline from her voice as she spoke to him. “We’ll need three rooms for one night. Next to each other, if that can be helped.”

“Of course,” the receptionist said. “Can I have a name and credit card on file for your stay?”

Krueger reached into his inside jacket pocket and retrieved a stack of neatly folded $100 bills. He placed it on the countertop and slid it toward the receptionist. “Ben Franklin,” he said.

The receptionist looked up at Krueger, then down at the cash, and then back up to Krueger. Nodding, he retrieved three sets of keys from under his desk. “Rooms 203, 204, and 205,” he said. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Franklin.”

“Danke schön.” Krueger took the keys and turned to lead his companions to their rooms. On the way handed CJ one of the keys and $200. “Go to the Goodwill down the road,” he ordered. “Get some cheap clothes that won’t draw attention and deliver them to my room.”

“Y-you bet.” CJ looked at Khai, and back at Krueger. “Um, what’s her size?”

“Take a guess.” Krueger slid the key into his door and entered. Khai followed him inside with the first aid supplies, leaving CJ to walk to the car and fetch their disguises.

 ~~

Krueger rested his jacket on the back of a chair then went to the bathroom to wash his hands and splash water on his face one-handed. He worked on his shirt while Khai washed up in the bathroom behind him, peering over her shoulder every so often to check on him.

She fished her glasses out of her evening handbag and swapped her contact lenses for them just in time to watch Krueger roll his shoulder, painfully, to get out of his shirt and waistcoat and let them fall to the floor. She saw him struggle to remove the body armor and stepped in to intervene. “Let me,” she said. Gently, she peeled it off of his torso and stepped back to let him walk forward a little. Her eyes lingered on the numerous old battle wounds that were still visible on his bare back and chest.

Krueger tightened his one fist and gingerly held his side with his other hand, covering the growing purple blotch in his side as he slowly sat at the foot of the bed. He shut his eyes and exhaled a profanity before looking back at Khai. “Far from my first broken rib,” he said. “But I never did get used to the pain.”

She bent over to pick his shirt and waistcoat up off the floor and went to the chair his jacket rested over to place them with it. “Good,” she replied, stepping out of her stilettoes on her way to the first aid supplies in their bags by the door. “I’d be worried about you if you were so accident-prone.” She retrieved a bottle of isopropyl solution and a cotton ball from the first-aid kit, opened the bottle, and tilted it onto the cotton ball a few times to absorb enough antiseptic to disinfect the cut. Then, carefully, she applied the cotton ball to the shallow cut in his side. “This doesn’t get any more fun each time,” she added playfully.

“It’s a lot less fun to endure,” he returned. “Believe me.”

“I’ll take your word for it…” She retrieved a fresh cotton ball from the kit and gingerly dabbed the wound to dry it, conscientious of what was beneath the tender skin. Then she reached into the bag for a cold compress. “You know what comes next, right?”

Krueger nodded. “I’m ready for it.”

“I’m sorry in advance,” she said. Then she gently pressed the ice pack to his side, applying just enough pressure to hold it in place.

Krueger winced a little, but didn’t protest much otherwise. “Don’t be. I’m just happy to have you here fixing me. I could have been doing this alone.”

She paused a little at his remark, realizing how different things might have gone tonight if she weren’t there. She considered how far from fine it all went, and felt responsible. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Silvio,” he said.

He was probably right, but she couldn’t ignore other possibilities. “Hold that in place,” she said, then stood up to approach the door, reaching for her Glock resting on the inside of her thigh as she got closer to the peephole. When she confirmed Krueger’s assertion, she holstered the handgun and leaned against the wall to let CJ into the room, carrying bags from the Goodwill store, CVS and a fast food eatery.

“Disguises in here,” he said, laying the Goodwill bag down. “There was also change enough for some overnight stuff—you know toothbrushes, toothpaste, the like. And finally some cheeseburgers, since none of us ate dinner at the resort party... you guys don’t have any dietary restrictions, right?”

Khai shook her head.

Krueger shrugged. “It’s my cheat day.”

“Sure,” he continued, not sure whether he was joking. “Cheat day... One for you, Miss Khai,” he said, handing her one canary-yellow wrapper. “One for, well I would have said Sebastian, but—”

“Krueger.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Milo Krueger.”

Khai nodded, mid-chew. “I can confirm.”

“Right. One for Mr. Krueger…” He reached across Khai to hand him a cheeseburger. “And mine is in the bag… I split the clothes up to make it easier for everyone. Krueger and I are about the same size, so he was wasn’t a problem. For you, I got the smallest things I could find.”

Khai chuckled. “Thanks for trying to flatter me, but it’s for a day. I’m sure I’d be able to manage if you got my size wrong.”

“Well, I guess that’s true.” CJ stood up, taking his bags with him towards the door. “Is there anything else you guys need?”

“I’ll head back after I finish up here. Thank you, CJ.”

“You bet. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.” Then CJ Silvio turned and exited the room to return to his quarters for the night.

 ~~

Khai waited a few moments after CJ left, then stood up from her spot to deposit her cheeseburger wrapper in the bathroom trash bin. She quickly washed and dried her hands then reached up her back to undo her gown, pulling the zipper all the way down on her own and paring it off her slender frame, leaving only a black strapless bra and panties to cover herself. She folded the gown over itself as neatly as she could and crossed the room to place it on the chair with Krueger’s clothes, then removed her garter holster and handgun to rest them there as well. “No way I’m letting you sleep alone tonight,” she said returning to the clothing bags CJ left behind and finding hers. She threw a t-shirt on and went back to the bathroom to grab a few hand towels, then returned to Krueger’s side to take the ice pack away.  “You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Krueger said.

“I know. But your body will need the nutrients if you want to start healing.”

If Krueger protested, he didn’t show it. He laid the cheeseburger wrapper in his lap to free its contents, then took hold of and bit into it, chewing slowly.

Khai placed the hand towels against his side and had Krueger hold them there while she went to the first-aid kit. She peeled a length of medical tape from the roll and fastened it to Krueger’s sternum, crossing the soft towels and sticking the other end to his back to hold them in place. “You know, you scared the crap out of me tonight,” she admitted.

Krueger swallowed. “How so?”

“When Osiris shot you, you… just fell.” She repeated her actions with another length of tape. “And when you didn’t get up, I thought...” She paused for a bit with a third length of tape to stop her voice from wobbling. “I thought I’d lost you.” She retrieved a pressure bandage and unraveled it, starting to wrap it around his core.

Krueger chewed some more as he put his thoughts together, then swallowed. By now he knew her well enough to know she would be blaming herself for what happened somehow. “It’s not your fault, Liz,” he confided.

“I didn’t have to come with you, but I did. You heard Osiris, he spotted me first.” She secured the bandage in place with the included fasteners and looked up to make eye contact with him, her hand falling into his lap. “If I weren’t there he would never have found us, and you wouldn’t have come that close to dying.” She shut her eyes and shook her head, cursing herself.

“You don’t know that, Liz,” Krueger said. He placed the rest of the cheeseburger into its wrapper to lay his hand on hers. “He could have spotted me anyway, or gotten to Silvio before I could if you hadn’t been there to distract him. I wouldn’t have even known who he was if not for you.” He moved his hand to her cheek and she looked back up at him. “It’s impossible to tell what could have happened if things were different,” he continued. “You can’t blame yourself for something you couldn’t have foreseen. Nobody can predict everything, what’s important is that we all made it out alive. People like us aren’t always so lucky,” he finally said. “I know this.”

Khai took his words to heart and exhaled to calm herself again. Then she stood up, took his face in her hands and placed two kisses square on his mouth. “Don’t you dare get killed out there, Milo Krueger,” she appealed.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

 ~~~~

Khai kept his promise to him, spending the night by his side and treating his wound as needed. They finally drifted off to sleep after several hours, and when they awoke the next morning Khai took a phone call from Charles Silvio letting her know their transport would be there within sixty minutes.

Khai dressed herself in the pullover hoodie and jeans CJ picked out for her and gathered the rest of her belongings. “Shame about Samantha and Michael,” she jested. “It doesn’t look like they’ll be back to that resort any time soon.”

“Looks that way,” Krueger said, easing a zip-up hoodie over his left shoulder to keep the pressure off his healing ribs. “That’s why I picked up a souvenir.” He walked over to where his suit was folded and reached for the holster, revealing Osiris’s gold-plated hand cannon. “It seemed a shame to leave it behind.” He held it out for her to take.

She picked it up and held it with both hands, running her left thumb over the barrel ports and her right over the slide release. The visible engraved text read AMT AUTOMAG V 50 A.E. Irwindale, CA. “I hate shooting it,” she said with a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “But it makes a hell of a statement.”

“And what better statement to make than owning Osiris’s gun?”

“None better,” she said. She released the magazine and cleared the chamber before placing the gun in her hoodie’s kangaroo pocket, then reached one hand up to caress his cheek and give him a long, appreciative kiss. “Suppose I’d better go maintain the illusion,” she lamented after breaking contact. She returned to the bag that held her gown and shoes from the previous evening, picked it up, and stepped out of Krueger’s room.

“Ja,” he said. “Zurück an die arbeit.” He went back to his suit jacket to fish his belongings out of the jacket and place them into his cargo pants pockets.

 ~~~~

Khai woke CJ and had him get dressed to meet her and Krueger for breakfast, which they shared mostly in silence. And as promised, Charles Silvio’s driver arrived at the motel within the hour to pick them up and take them back to New York. He dropped Krueger and Khai off at his home in Rego Park for her to collect her car, and took CJ home to his apartment in Astoria.

Khai debriefed Isaac Hayden upon her return home. “Krueger can be up and working in as little as fourteen days,” she concluded, “but in a limited capacity. He should be back to full strength within six weeks.”

“I see,” Hayden said over the phone.

“Any updates from the Company?”

“My sources say Osiris was rushed to a hospital nearby. They say he’s comatose, and his prognosis isn’t good, but they weren’t able to get any other details regarding him. He ran the operation closer to the vest than we suspected, however. His generals are scrambling to keep his network at full functionality, and it’s already starting to splinter. We can expect them to back away from us on fronts across the entire Eastern Seaboard while they pull themselves together.”

“The way I see it sir, there’s no better time to push them out of the region than now.”

“You may be right,” he said. “But in so doing we may end up uniting them against us, and the advantage we’ve gained with Osiris’s removal from the field will be gone. I’ll coordinate with Charles and Dana, we’ll apply just enough pressure to keep them off-balance, and let them destroy themselves.”

“Understood, sir.” She poured fresh coffee from the stovetop pot into a mug and took it with her to her living room, setting down on the couch she got from Amelia’s barely a week ago.

“Charles asked me to thank you and Mr. Krueger again for your help with his son, and advised we keep him on a short leash.”

Khai had an idea about that. “What if we have CJ help me out at the branch? Be my assistant, the way I was to William and Simon.”

“Do you feel he’s up to the task?”

“I do. After what the three of us went through down there, I think he’s matured enough to handle the additional responsibilities. And if it doesn’t work, I’m sure his father can find something for him in Miami.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“On that we agree,” he added, almost chuckling. “I’ll have him report to the branch Monday morning for his new assignment. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Miss Khai.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hayden,” she said. “Good night.” She ended the call and put the phone down next to her, savoring her coffee as she admired Osiris’s empty AutoMag resting on the table in front of her. She picked the phone back up and dialed another number.

An older woman answered this time. “Hello? This is Gina.”

Khai leaned back into the couch. “Hey mom.”

“Liz!” she extolled. “It’s so good to hear from you again.”

“I know, it’s been a while. Sorry it took me so long to call back I’ve just been so busy at the branch lately.”

“I bet you have been, Miss Branch Controller..! Your father and I can’t tell you how proud we are of you. Running an operation at your age? That’s unheard of.”

“I did have help,” Khai said, trying to be modest. “And a great set of teachers, so you and dad can take thirty percent of the credit.”

“Is that all you’re willing to give us?” she jested.

“Okay,” Khai conceded, laughing. “Forty, but that’s as high as I’ll go..!”

“I’ll take it,” Gina laughed. “So tell me, what else is new with you?”

“Well,” she said, sinking further into the couch and letting it cradle her. “I just hired an assistant—you know Charles Silvio’s son?”

“Of course.”

“Yeah he’ll be helping me out with all the minutiae, and clear my schedule a little.” She paused briefly before continuing. “Also I met somebody.”

“Did you now?”

“I did.”

“Well, don’t leave me hanging, how’d you two meet?”

“He did some work for the branch a few months ago,” Khai began. “Isaac was so impressed he offered him a permanent position, so he’s with us full-time now. He’s a real sweetheart, too… he treats me well, spoils me… you and dad would love him.”

___(Masterlist)

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