Her appearance was deceptive. Some young men were handsome to the point of being almost pretty and she had passed for one of those. She had worn her hair as men did and she had a compact and powerful athletic frame. She wrapped her chest to conceal her breasts, took the name of Andre de la Croix. and became a mercenary knight. It was in that guise that Lucas first met her on a temporal adjustment mission in medieval England. in the lists at the tournament of Ashby. In full armor and on horseback, they had jousted with each other and it was an experience he would never forget. When he thought of it, he could still feel the incredibly jarring impact of her lance. By the time they met again, several centuries had passed.
She had become a member of the Temporal Underground and was taken from he
r native time to 17th-century France. where their paths crossed once again. She had helped Lucas and Finn defeat a group of temporal terrorists who called themselves the Timekeepers and they had brought her back with them to the 27th century. where it was determined that her temporal displacement would not have a disruptive effect on history. She was given a cerebral implant, programmed with an education, and made a member of the First Division. Since then, she had been a valued member of their team and she and Lucas had grown extremely close.
They had become as intimate as two people could be without ever physically consummating their relationship. They had never said, “I love you.” to each other, but it was not something that needed to be said. Both of them knew it. felt it deep down in their souls, and yet they had always hesitated to take that final step. It was something neither of them ever spoke about. In fact, the curious nature of their relationship was that it went largely unspoken, as if they unconsciously desired their love to be idealistically platonic, and were hesitant, even frightened, to take it any further. Instead, they cloaked their feelings for each other in military camaraderie, in awkward brotherly and sisterly affection, and in hard-drinking fellowship, not unlike two male friends who were emotionally repressed and expressed their feelings for each other in punching one another’s shoulders and hearty slaps upon the back.
Perhaps part of their problem lay in the fact that Andre never had an opportunity to be raised as a girl child. She never had a female role model and she was inexperienced in relationships, unable to express her deepest feelings.
And though Lucas would never admit it to a soul-not even to his best friend, Finn Delaney, who knew it just the same-he had been painfully shy around women all his life. He could hide it well up to a certain point and he was not sexually inexperienced. yet in almost every case, it was the woman who had taken the initiative. often in exasperation. And those sexual relationships had been just that-primarily sexual. Stated simply. Lucas Pried, a soldier who had been decorated many times for bravery, was an abject coward when it came to love, as paralyzed with shyness and indecision as a young boy sitting alone in tortured agony for hours. trying to summon up the nerve to make his first call to a girl he had a crush on.
There were times when Finn Delaney wanted to take them both and shake them, force them to come out and admit their feelings for each other, hut he was enough of a friend to both of them to know where to draw the line. There were some things that went beyond the bounds of friendship, some things people simply had to do all by themselves. Sooner or later, it would have to happen for them, because the tension was increasing. When she had thought Lucas had died. Andre had been grief-stricken beyond words. When he came back, she’d been so overjoyed to see him alive that she’d responded with her feelings before she had a chance to think and had thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Afterward. Delaney found it almost comical to see their mutual embarrassment, but a large chunk of the barrier between them had been broken through and Finn knew that It would only be a matter of time before the remainder of their inhibitions fell away. Privately. he hoped they’d hurry up and get around to it, because lately they’d been using him as a reluctant chaperone, a convenient third party to keep them from being alone together. It made him feel uncomfortable and he wished to hell they’d both grow up and act their age Two grown people, unable to express their feelings. He simply didn’t understand it. But then, being an Irishman. he wouldn’t.
They stepped through the weapons detector, then had their palm prints, voice and retinal patterns checked before being admitted into Forester’s suite of offices and, beyond them, his personal quarters. Forrester himself detested the security measures, but Steiger had insisted on them, especially after a recent assassination attempt that had cost the lives of several of the general’s personal staff. It was solely for that reason that Forrester had agreed to have the security systems installed. He felt responsible for those deaths and he didn’t want anyone else to die because he was marked for assassination by the Network. Forester’s orderly, who now always went armed, conducted them into the general’s presence.
“Come in. people,” Forrester said, as usual not standing on ceremony.
No one in the service knew his exact age-his personal dossier was classified-but Forester looked ancient. His face was deeply lined, his hands were wrinkled and liver-spotted, and he was completely bald, yet his emerald-green eyes were bright and alert and his massive, six-foot six-inch frame was packed with two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle. He worked out strenuously for two hours every day and could Curl an eighty-pound dumbbell as if it were a paperweight.
“Have a seat, he said gruffly. “Bar’s open.”
The last remark being a signal to Delaney, who usually did the honors, to help himself to Forrester’s bar and pour drinks for them all-single malt Scotch for Lucas and Andre. vodka and soda for Steiger. Irish whiskey for himself, and for the old man a horrible concoction known as “Red Eye,” a cheap, Old West rotgut whiskey Forrester had inexplicably picked up a taste for. The stuff could remove paint, but the old man tossed it back like it was water.
“Have the prisoner brought in.” said Forester to his orderly.
They all exchanged glances, but said nothing. Not until two armed I.S.D. men brought in their prisoner.
“Christ. it’s Hunter!” said Delaney.
“Okay, as you were. men,” Forester said to the two armed guards, who had snapped sharply to attention with Hunter between them, restrained in magnacuffs. The bracelets around his wrists were locked together by magnetic force and as the guards snapped to attention, one of them used the remote key to bring Hunter to attention, too. The bracelets fastened around his ankles abruptly came together with a sharp click and Hunter almost lost his balance.
“Give me a break, guys.” Hunter said. “I’ve got respect. I would’ve snapped to.”
“Shut up,” said the guard.
“I’ll take that.” said Forrester, holding his hand out. The guard gave him the remote key. “Okay, thank you. gentlemen. Dismissed.”
The two guards came to attention, saluted. about-faced, and left the room. leaving Hunter standing stiffly in the center of the room, his wrists and ankles tightly locked together.
“Permission to assume the position of parade rest, sir?” Hunter asked wryly.
“I can do better than that.’ said Forrester. pointing the small remote control box at him and releasing both sets of bracelets. “Have a seat. Delaney. get the man a drink.”
Hunter looked stunned.
“What’s your poison?” said Delaney.
“Uh.. got any beer?”
Any preference? Light, dark, imported, domestic?”
Hunter shook his head. “I don’t care. You’re buying. Hell. if I’d known you treated your prisoners like this. I might’ve surrendered sooner.”
“He surrendered?” Andre said, glancing at Forrester with disbelief.
“Clocked into base and turned himself right in.” Forrester replied. “Wouldn’t give a reason. He insisted on speaking only to you people.”