Chapter 203

3:30 A.M.

Art slid out of bed, and a moment later snapped a lamp on at the other end of the room.

"What's wrong?" Sandra asked, sleepily.

As he sat in a chair to pull on his pants, "Going running with Jeff, remember?"

"What's happening?" Bobby mumbled a second later. "Who turned on the light?"

"I did, Baby, but just the one lamp. I didn't mean to wake you two."

Sandra glanced toward her sister. "He's going running, remember?"

"But the weather people said it was going to snow," Bobby groused, half-asleep. Turning over, she pulled the sheet over her head and mumbled, barely audibly, "It's nuts to run in the snow on a mountaintop. It's..." Whatever she was going to say faded away as she drifted back to dreamland.

A few moments later, Art came over to kiss Sandra, then reached to touch Bobby's sheet-covered shoulder for a second.

"Don't bust your butt," Sandra quietly said as she spooned with her sister-wife, closed her eyes, and joined Bobby in sleep.

In the bathroom, Art splashed cold water on his face. I can't believe I'm doing this. And I tend to agree with Bobby. What was I thinking when I told Jeff I would run with him this morning? Oh, well, I did pretty well in Quantico on our five mile runs. Surely I haven't lost all of my conditioning.

As he left their suite and started down the hall, These shoes feel odd with the screws in the soles. I hope I haven't ruined a good pair of running shoes. But Jeff and Kayla both say the screws work fine. We'll see.

When Jeff and Kayla came down the back hall at four, Art was sitting near the door waiting for them. "It's still snowing," he said as he stood, zipped his jacket and pulled the hood over his head. "This feels awfully light for fifteen degree weather. Maybe I'm just not as acclimated to the temperature as you two are."

Jeff, having advised Art on what to buy to run on the mountain, let out a chuckle. "You'll freeze your butt off the first little while with that light Gore-Tex outfit, but as soon as your body starts warming up, the suit will hold your body heat in for you. A mile down the road, you'll have to unzip the jacket to keep from overheating."

As they stepped out onto the back stoop, Jeff commented, "The weather man seems to have hit it again; looks like about four inches of new snow already, and it's still coming down pretty hard."

"We still good to go?" Art asked, more than a bit skeptical of running with it snowing.

"Sure. We've only had to abort once. About a mile down the road, it began snowing so hard that security was having difficulty seeing us. The lead driver was afraid he would run over us, should one of us take a tumble, so we came back and ran on the treadmills. If need be, Security makes a pass on the road with the plow, then does the driveway. The shoes with the screws in them take care of what snowpack is left, and visibility is still decent this morning, so, yeah, we're still good."

Security's snowplow had just finished its turn and started back down the driveway as the three negotiated the snow-covered back steps, the tread heaters having fallen behind for the moment. Jeff let out a chuckle as he waved to the driver. "Arlene bitches because they plow out the drive for Kayla and me so early that she doesn't get to do it much. I keep telling her that all she has to do is get up at three-thirty and she'll beat them to it, but she isn't that interested in driving the pickup."

As Kayla giggled softly, Art kidded, "Must be nice to be a Colonel."

The three started off at a slow jog to warm up as Jeff responded. "It has its good points, and its bad points. Every time I start to do something, there tends to be someone who runs up and tries to do it for me. Sometimes I wish I were still a Lieutenant. Since we came back with the Ship, the General won't even let me lead a mission – well, at least, not off-world."

"And what does Diana have to say about your going off-world?" Art asked, already guessing the answer.

Before Jeff could respond, Kayla injected, "Suffice it to say she isn't pleased with our husband leaving this world – period."

Art grinned behind his ski mask. "So, if you don't mind my asking, how can you be in the military on occasion, and be a civilian, at other times?" he probed. "You darn sure looked military when you and your team came to rescue us."

Before Jeff could answer, Kayla spoke up for him again. "Our Prime is a special case. He's still military when he needs to be, or the General needs him to be."

"Well, that's clear as mud," Art laughed. "But whatever, I'm darn glad you pulled us out of that crap in Georgia. Well, I guess that's an understatement. We would all be dead if you hadn't shown up with your team. And ... in addition, I wound up with two beautiful wives out of the deal."

"And maybe another in the near future," Kayla added.

Art looked over at Kayla as they turned into the second curve of the drive. "You know about that?"

But Jeff answered, instead. "I don't have any secrets from my wives."

"We're all rooting for you," Kayla added.

Art shook his head, a grin spreading across his face.

They jogged on, but just before they reached the bottom of the drive, Art glanced at Kayla. "So, you're going to train me to use a helmet?"

"No way," she quickly responded. "The Sergeant will train you. I'll be there to assist. Just to assist. I don't want the Training Sergeant pissed at me, so please don't say anything about my training you. And besides, I'm barely ahead of you on the combat helmet's functions. It takes a while to learn – trust me on that."

"But..." Jeff injected, "under combat conditions, the mental aspects, though hard to learn, save time and free up your hands when time might very well save your life or that of others. And about the training. When you're in the Training Sergeant's class, whether it's classroom or the range – anywhere he's training you – he outranks anyone in the class. And that includes me, or even the General, for that matter. Outside of training, rank is rank, but if he's training, he's boss. I know you would never be disrespectful, but I just thought you should know.

"In addition, some of the things you've learned about shooting a rifle will transfer to the pulse rifle. Some things won't. Listen carefully to the Sergeant. Do whatever he says and do it his way – precisely his way. What seems logical in a classroom, or even on the range, might not work nearly as well under combat conditions. So, again, learn things his way. It might save your life. You don't have to be an expert with the rifle – that takes a while. But I want you to be, at least, proficient with it. Shit happens. Pay attention, and ... practice. We may go after this shithead tomorrow, day after, next month – day, night; I don't know. But when we go, it could well be in a hurry."

Glancing at Kayla, the Prime went on, "Tell the Sergeant to let Art bring a camouflage suit back with him so he can practice getting it on and off." Then back to Art, "We might well use them when we go after the diplomat, and you might not have a lot of time to get your outfit on, and ... they're a bitch the first few times you try."

"And the hundredth," Kayla said, dryly.

Jeff let out a chuckle. "That, too."

As they reached the bottom of the drive, they stopped as they met Carter standing in the middle of the road waiting for them, "Morning, Colonel, Lieutenant, Mr. Haynes."

"Morning, Trooper," Jeff and Kayla said in unison.

"How did you know past the mask?" Art questioned Carter who was now pulling his own mask on.

Carter chuckled. "You put your mask on standing on the back stoop. Security had already identified you and told us who was coming this morning."

"Well, I guess that explains that, but how about calling me Art, like I said when we were introduced at the wedding."

"Okay, Art. I'll try to remember. Everybody mostly just calls me Carter."

"Let's hit it," Kayla said, "I'm freezing my butt off just standing here."

Art lasted three miles before exhaustion forced him to stop. Embarrassed, he got into the lead SUV, expecting to be teased about dropping out so early. He needn't have worried. As he was pulling his mask off, he was welcomed and given a bottle of water.

Kayla, Carter and Jeff picked up the pace. Carter dropped out a little past the five mile marker, but Kayla hung in until mile seven before joining Art and Carter in the lead vehicle. As Kayla unzipped her jacket and took her mask off, she took a swig from the bottle of water given to her by one of the Security troopers. Art sat staring out the front. "How does he do that?" he almost whispered as Jeff brought his pace up to his normal running speed.

Hearing him, Carter responded. "Bad enough his going downhill at that pace, but he does it going back uphill. On his short day, he runs ten down and ten back for a total of twenty. On his longer days, he runs fifteen down and fifteen back. The only time he slows down is the first five or so when we're with him, and his cool down when he's almost back to the Retreat."

Turning to Kayla, Carter went on. "I need to start running at a different time. You're already well beyond me. I know that you're holding back so we three can run together for those first five. I saw how you picked up your pace when I dropped out. It's not fair for you to have to hold back for me."

But Kayla was shaking her head, "No you're not, Carter. When you quit after the first five, I put everything I had into it for the next two miles, and Jeff was just easily running ... almost loping, effortlessly, along beside me. As soon as I quit, he took off. Don't you dare quit running with us. If you do, it will be just me holding Jeff back, and I'll start feeling way too guilty. I mean it, Carter. Don't you dare quit."

"But I'll never be any better. I'm too damn big to run fast – or far. And the Colonel..."

"Wants you with us, so big or not, don't you dare quit."

"Is that an order, Lieutenant?"

"What? Of course not. But I don't want you to quit."

After a moment of silence, "Okay ... if you're sure, I'll hang in there for a while."

"I am."

Carter continued with, "I do pretty well with the rest of the team. Well mostly," he admitted, "but..."

Kayla reached over to tap him on the shoulder so he would look at her. "Jeff is a Prime. Nobody else can do what he does. Have you heard either of us say one derogatory thing about your running?"

"Well, no. Actually, both of you have encouraged me, but..."

"And you won't ever hear anything bad. Jeff won't compete with us. He doesn't have to. Surely you've run with him before."

"Oh, he used to run with the team back when he was a Lieutenant, and even then, he held back. We all knew that, but watching him run down this road at his own pace is ... damn near demoralizing. He runs like a ... deer," he finished, deleting the adjective he almost used, "and I can't seem to get any better."