CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sunday, September 24th
Sam sat on the chair in the room he’d been sharing with Lucky and waited for her to finish getting ready. Checking his phone, he saw a text from Owen updating him on the how the team was progressing with the backdoors that Lucky had given them yesterday.
So far, they had people from Interpol, the Federal Police, and the FBI slogging through Vazov’s network, digging for something that would irrevocably take him down.
According to Theo and Julia, they didn’t want to waste a metaphorical bullet and needed to ensure that when they took him into custody, he was never going to find a way out. Which meant presenting irrefutable evidence so as to avoid the option of bail.
It was a hell of a bar to reach, but all the interested parties were in agreement that’s how they wanted to proceed. He and the other agents were in a holding pattern until the intelligence techs from the various agencies produced something actionable, and that meant he and Lucky had the day off.
They had come up with a few things they wanted to see and were going to start with one of the most popular monuments in Brussels and move on from there. He lifted his coffee cup, drained it, and then refilled it. They hadn’t gotten much sleep last night and he hoped they could catch up this afternoon after they’d taken in the sights.
Running his hand over his face, he grinned and knew his desire to return to bed later had nothing to do with being rested for the work week and everything to do with being intertwined with Lucky.
“What are you plotting, Sam?”
He looked up and felt his breath hitch as he saw Lucky standing before him in a pair of fitted jeans and a cream sweater that lovingly hugged the curves he knew intimately. “Are you ready to be a tourist?”
“Yes, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m plotting nothing more than having a fun day in a beautiful city. We’re going to take in important cultural monuments, stuff our faces with frites, and find some famous Belgian chocolate to take home to your mom.” When she gave him a dazzling smile in response, he felt his heart beat steadily against his chest as if it was telling him he’d found the one. Not wanting to do anything to spook her, he stood and finished his coffee.
“Works for me.” She grabbed her jacket and looped her purse over her head and grinned. “Come on, Barton, show me a good time.”
“I thought I did that this morning when you were chanting my name like a prayer.”
Sliding her hand on her hip, she threw him a casual shrug. “I guess it was fun if floating away from your body and experiencing pleasure you never imagined possible is your sort of thing.”
He grabbed her hand, pulling her into his arms. “I’ll try and put a little more effort into it tonight and see if I can make it your thing.” Seeing her eyes close momentarily let him know he was her thing; she just wasn’t ready to admit it. “Maybe tonight when I lay you down and take you, I’ll be able to communicate that I’m not simply making love to your body, but reclaiming what’s been mine for a thousand lifetimes.”
“And what’s that?” she asked breathlessly.
“The other half of my soul.” He lifted her chin and captured her mouth in a searing kiss, sealing his words against her heart. When he released her and lifted his head, he felt her hold tighten on his arms. “Let’s go see the sights.”
“All right,” she said quietly. “Do you really think I’m your other half?”
“Absolutely.” He gave her another kiss and then led her to the door. “I wouldn’t say it otherwise.” He saw her struggle to process his confession and decided to lighten things up so she wouldn’t panic. “Let’s start with the statue of the boy.”
“Might as well,” she replied. “According to the review I read, the famous Manneken-Pis is an emblem of the rebellious spirit of the City of Brussels.”
“Let’s get going then, I’d hate to miss a rebellious emblem.”
***
Walking down a narrow street lined with shops on a beautiful fall day in the vibrant city wasn’t something Sam had ever seen himself having when he’d been lying broken in the hospital bed. After the rescue op had gone south and he’d been caught in the explosion, he’d thought his life was over and never really expected to have any kind of happiness.
And yet here he was, happier than he’d ever been, holding Lucky’s hand and listening to her chatter about where they should go to sample the famous Belgium frites. “You pick, Lucky, because it doesn’t matter to me.”
“I guess you must like me if you’re willing to trust me with a decision like that.”
“More than you know,” he replied cryptically. Spying a souvenir shop, he noticed a reproduction of the famous boy painted in blue, holding a waffle. “Do you want me to take a picture of you next to the blue boy?”
Lucky stopped and studied it and then shook her head. “I’d do it if he were holding a cone of frites, but the waffle makes it a no.”
“It’s important to have standards.” They continued along until they saw a crowd in front of a small iron gate. “Let’s see what this is all about.”
They stood side by side and Sam looped his arm over Lucky’s shoulder and stared. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“The big cultural draw is a boy pissing into a fountain?”
“Apparently, this was the first fountain that played an essential role in the distribution of water all the way back to the fifteenth century. He also has about nine hundred outfits.”
“I guess that tells us something about how important he is to the people of the city.”
“He became an image and symbol of Brussels folklore, and supposedly represents the joy of the inhabitants and their capacity for self-mockery.”
“My brothers and I did that all the time when we were playing in the area behind our house and no one ever suggested we were a symbol of anything.”
“I’m ready to try the famous fries.”
Looking around the busy square, he took her hand. “Which way are we headed?”
“Lifting her phone, she checked the map and pointed east. “The Mannekin Pis Frite shop is about a block over.”
“Onward, woman, lead us to the food.”
Sam lifted a fry out of the cone and tapped it against Lucky’s. “Hope the twenty minutes in line was worth it.”
Dipping her fry into the mayonnaise, she ate it in two bites and then smiled. “Completely worth it.”
Sam did the same thing and then grabbed another one. “Never thought I’d like the mayo, but I do.”
“The potatoes that are used for the frites have limited availability outside of Belgium and they’re called Bintje. Supposedly, that’s the secret to their deliciousness.”
“I had no idea you knew so much about this.”
“I’m a research geek and I like to discover obscure facts.”
“You must love the show How It’s Made.”
Lucky held a fry in mid-air and stared. “You know about that show?”
“Of course, my youngest brother was obsessed with it and has probably watched every episode at least a dozen times.”
“I used to watch it a lot when Grif and I were traveling because it helped with my homesickness. Somehow, seeing how tripods were made soothed my soul.”
“How long did you two work together?”
“Five years on and off. We traveled from Abu Dhabi to the Seychelles to Hong Kong. It was exciting at first and then it just became routine. The last two days have reminded me how fortunate I am to be working at SAI, having the opportunity to do something different almost every day. Sitting at a keyboard for twelve or fourteen hours writing code isn’t as much fun as it used to be.”
“Makes sense.” Looking down into the cone, he saw that they’d eaten everything. “Do you want another order, or are you good?”
Lucky wiped her mouth with a napkin, then shook her head. “I’m full. We better take a walk so I can make some room for lunch.”
“The Grand Place isn’t that far, so if you want to do some laps around the square a couple of times, then we can.”
“Might have to.”
He got rid of the trash and then took the wet wipe Lucky handed him. “You seem to have everything inside that bag.”
“I do. We could probably survive with the contents for three days if we had to.”
“So, it’s more of a bug-out bag than a purse.”
“Probably.” She took his hand and pulled him off the sidewalk. “The next adventure is waiting.”
As he followed her, his heart swelled with emotion because she was finally taking his hand, and he decided it was an indication that what he’d been working toward was within reach. Maybe what he’d said earlier had opened the door and now all they had to do was walk through it.
***
They strolled along a narrow side alley called Rue des Harengs and entered the Grand Place. “Wow, the pictures don’t do it justice,” Lucky said as she looked up at the fifteenth-century city hall.
“It feels like we're on the set of a James Bond movie.”
Looking around, she noticed the dramatic facades of the buildings with their baroque gables, gilded statues, and elaborate guilds. “It would have to be a night scene where he roars across the cobblestone streets in his…what kind of car does he drive?”
Slapping his hand on his chest, Sam took a step back. “And you call yourself an educated woman.”
“It starts with an A, I know that much.”
“Aston Martin.”
Snapping her fingers, she smiled. “Of course.”
“It’s clear I’m going to have to be responsible for your car education.”
“It won’t be necessary because I don’t find them interesting. As far as I’m concerned, all they have to do is get you from place to place.”
“I guess I won’t have to worry about keeping you in the latest car, then.”
Ignoring the comment, she started in the direction of the shops and wondered why he thought he had to keep her in anything. Maybe it was a guy thing and she should just ignore it. “Should we get a beer and see if the monks live up to their reputation?”
“Sure, is there someplace you had in mind or should walk around and find one that looks interesting?”
“Let’s look around.” As they made their way through the throng of people, Lucky felt Sam’s firm grip on her hand and decided she enjoyed the way he wanted to protect her. Maybe all the man things he wanted to do wouldn’t be so bad after all. Sighing silently, she thought about what he’d done when they’d woken up and knew his man-ways were becoming addictive.
“What about that one?” Sam said as they walked down a side alley. “It’s called Brasserie l’ Ommengang.”
“It looks lovely, but I was hoping for something a little more casual.” Looking through the windows, she saw white tablecloths and wine glasses on the tables.
“Okay, let’s keep going.” They wandered farther and he pointed to another one. “That looks like a great place, La Brouette Tavern.”
“Perfect.” Following him past the outdoor patio, they walked in and were immediately welcomed by the warm wood interior. Some kegs lined the back of the bar and they were painted with cartoonish figures of monks. Sam grabbed them a table next to the window and, before she knew it, they had glasses of beer in front of them. “What am I drinking?”
“It’s their most popular pilsner.”
“I like it.”
“Thought you might.” He looked at the menu and then took her hand. “Should we have the things the city is famous for?”
“Yes, we have to try the mussels, Flemish stew, and shrimp croquettes.”
“That’s exactly what I was going to order.”
“You seem to be good at choosing food, so I’m going to let you do it for a while and I can just be surprised.”
“Happy to,” he replied as he looked around the restaurant. “Is this what you had in mind?”
Looking around, she nodded. “Absolutely, the open fire, old chandeliers, and waiters in uniform is what I was hoping to find when we came out today.”
“What else should we try and visit?”
“I thought you might like to see the Royal Museum of the Army. It doesn’t seem like it’s very far.”
“I’m not going to drag you to see that; tell me what you want to do.”
“I don’t have any agenda other than what we’ve just done. I want to get to know you, Sam, and discover what interests you.”
“You interest me, Lucky.”
“That’s just your body talking.” Looking out the window, she watched the people pass by. “Start at the beginning. What made you decide to join the army after college?”
“I couldn’t think of anything else to do that would provide the challenge I was looking for. When I received my degree in criminology, the idea of joining the police department didn’t interest me, so when I read about the Rangers, I decided to see if I could qualify.”
“What is it that appealed to you about the armed forces other than the excitement factor?”
“The idea of protecting and serving my country had always been in the back of my mind and, when I graduated, I knew it was time.”
“Were you always a protector or did that develop later?”
“I’m the oldest brother, so I’d say through circumstances I took on the role. We’re all a year and a half apart, so the three of us were always close. My youngest brother, Seth, is on the autism spectrum, so Steve, my middle brother and I always made sure he was okay and no one was bothering him.”
“Is Seth the engineer at Boeing?”
“Yes, he’s considered high functioning on the spectrum and has an intellect that puts him in the genius range.”
“What’s the difference between someone who is high-functioning and someone who has Asperger’s?”
“According to my mom, not much. Seth had a language delay and didn’t start speaking until he was four or five and, apparently, that’s not how Asperger’s presents in early childhood.”
“I’ve worked with quite a few people who were on the spectrum and I never understood the difference.”
“It makes sense that anything to do with computers would be appealing to someone who falls on the spectrum. It offers endless puzzles, but has specific answers and rules that govern it.”
“That’s a great description. So, does your brother live independently or with your parents?”
“He’s got his own place a couple of miles from my parents and is, for the most part, a fully functioning adult. He has an aide that comes in weekly and they go over things to make sure he’s got everything under control. My mom says he likes it a lot better than having her tell him what to do, and the coach makes him feel like he’s hanging out with a peer and not being babied.”
“There are quite a few companies in Silicon Valley that hire people with special needs and have a program to support them as they move through their workday.”
“Boeing has a very small one and Seth was recruited out of college to join them. He’s incredibly intelligent and when he’s focused on something, he won’t quit until he's come up with an answer. Essentially, he’s the best employee in the world because he comes in and works and doesn’t get distracted by socializing. In fact, they are required to attend group lunches a couple times a week and he always complains because he’d rather be sitting outside eating by himself and reading or playing a game on his phone.”
“It seems your protectiveness and compassion developed as a result of your brother.”
“Absolutely. I like to say that having Seth as a brother has allowed Steve and me to become who we were supposed to be. Twenty years ago, there wasn’t the awareness or acceptance that there is today, and it wasn’t easy for him in school or life. My mom fought for him at every turn and she’s one of the most popular speakers on advocating for your special needs child. She’ll tell you that without Seth, she might not have had a career.”
The waiter approached, and Sam ordered for them and, as she listened to him speak in French, she realized her walls had crumbled entirely. He’d made his way in and now all she had to do was accept it because what he’d said earlier about her being the other half of his soul was true for her as well.
How she was going to handle it was anyone’s guess.