Elliott let the laughter and lively chatter of the mess hall wash over him. The mood had been lightened thanks to Junie’s antics. The story was funny but he’d lost track of it. The details weren’t important anymore. He smiled a little smile as his friend reached another high point in the tale and the hall rang with laughter. Even Roger, the sourpuss, was enjoying himself. Elliott also noticed that he was looking awfully cozy and comfortable with Aubrey. Fipps laughed extra hard at Junie’s jokes and there was a sparkle in his eyes when he looked at her.
It made Elliott happy to see his friends happy, but it did nothing to take his mind off Shavian. She was out there somewhere and despite her usual bravado she was likely very scared.
And it kept coming back to Elliott that it was all his fault. There was no point in dwelling on it now, and he knew that: what was done was done. But if something happened to her… Elliott’s mind shied away from that thought. He was getting braver, but he still wasn’t brave enough to face that.
A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. Fipps had pulled up a chair beside him and was leaning over conspiratorially. Roger, missing nothing, glanced at them out of the corner of his eye but made no move to eavesdrop.
Fipps took a deep breath and then paused. “Elliott, I’m wondering what the end game is here,” he said at last, softly.
Elliott frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
Fipps shrugged. “Well, I know why you guys came south. I can’t say I quite understand, mind you, but I know the reason.”
“Coffee and beer, but it’s bigger than that now,” Elliott said, and it was only in that moment that he’d realized it.
Fipps said, “I agree. And it’s about more than surviving too. This thing is spreading in weird ways. Up the west coast I understand. But skipping three states and resurfacing in Colorado?”
“Which is where this virologist Irons is from.” Elliott finished the thought and his heart plummeted into his stomach. Fipps clapped a hand on Elliott’s shoulder when he saw that the younger man understood what he was getting at.
“So a virologist right at the center of this whole mess. I didn’t like the idea of that girlie in his hands on general principle but now I like it even less,” Fipps said. “And I have to ask…?”
“Yeah.” Elliott sighed. “What’s the endgame?”
Roger leaned over. “So you think this Irons might be behind all this?”
Elliott grinned; maybe Rog had been eavesdropping.
“It’s possible. But why? And what does he want with Shavian?” Elliott asked.
“Good question,” Roger said.
“Right,” Fipps acknowledged. “I ain’t big on making accusations without evidence” –he shrugged eloquently in acknowledgment of his criminal past- “but I think we need to get some answers, and I think the doc probably has the ones we want.”
The three men thought in silence for a few minutes; while they’d been talking Junie had wound her story to a finish. The crowd, much cheered, was dispersing. Their conversation would no longer be disguised by noise but thanks to Junie, they were now just another group of soldiers on the base, fighting the good fight. Junie had provided them with the best cover: camaraderie. Now she joined them at the table. She’d heard the last part of their conversation.
“Higgins is only going to get Shavian back,” Elliott said. “After he does that, how are we supposed to get close to Irons?”
Junie pushed her hair behind her ears. “He’ll keep his eyes open. He’ll tell us all about his security and all that.” Everyone stared at her. “Well, he’ll do it in his own unique way of course,” she added.
Elliott agreed. “Yeah, Junie’s right. We’ll get the intel we need.”
“One word at a time, “ Junie nodded sagely. Elliott glanced down at Junie’s hands. Her tactical mug was resting in her lap. Her right hand was wrapped around it, and the index finger of the left was tracing the rim.
“Then we just… what? Storm the castle?” Roger asked. Elliott smiled and nodded to the mug.
“Junie, I think it’s way past time we trick that thing out.”