Chapter 11

There comes a moment in everyone's life where action or inaction fall into a focus so clear and precise that there is no gray space between them.

For some it is a once in a lifetime occurrence, an instant frozen in time that they look back on as years put distance and wisdom between themselves and the moment and still, there were only two options, no gray.

For others, the calling of their lives dictates that there be very little gray at all, that many times over the days, weeks, months and years of their lives they are faced with the binary, 0 or 1, yes or no, act ... or do not.

The latter is true of Tera

Tera keyed the microphone on the headset again. "Recon this is roost, do you copy my message, fox's in the henhouse, over" Sitting there at the window, feeling the sweat slowly slide down the small of her back, the skin raising in goose flesh as it passed, she knew, as she always did, that something bad was happening. And as always, she was right.

The thing good so often forgets about evil, is that evil has no conscience. There is never a moment when true evil hesitates. Good will take a winding path to its goal; evil prefers a straight line.

Nicolas stared out the window of the Hawker 800X as it flew through the silent starless night. The plane was headed for Paris; from there Nicolas would then travel to the coast and be taken on into England by boat. The British had ... little tolerance for Nicolas.

It had taken a few hours to get operators into position to take down Mr. Dane, 'the man is luckier than Midas' Nicolas thought absently as the geography of central Europe passed beneath the jet as it moved through the thin air, taking Nicolas closer to his perceived destiny.

'Should never have sent the weak fools, ' Nicolas thought to himself mulling over the deaths of his acolytes. 'They had some talent but obviously I overestimated their abilities, ah well, better now than in a battle when I really needed them. It must be that old fool Ian, he has always been the strongest of the others, ah well, it's no matter, his mental protections of Mr. Dane will prove useless against a bullet."

The intercom buzzed, the pilot making the announcement that they would be landing in Paris in about 10 minutes.

"Good, a bit of cleaning up to do here and then Ian will understand what it means to get on my bad side" Nicolas smiled as the plane went into a steep turn heading towards Charles De Gaul.

...

"Trouble" the word brought Tera from a deep sleep to fully awake in less time than it took the word to slip across her consciousness.

It was still dark out, perhaps just the briefest hint of the gray dawn beginning but still ... night. Tera had slept in her clothes; the long shift and constant need to be "on" had drained her. Now sitting on the edge of the small bed lacing up her Haix Airpower boots she had never felt more energetic or felt more of need to be somewhere other than where she was.

"Nigel, it's Tera" she said, taking the stairs three at a time as she descended to the ground level of the four story building.

"Damnit, do you know what time it is" Nigel knew exactly what time it was but it was his standard answer after midnight to allow the moment he would need to be fully ... there.

"05:13 and something is wrong, check the team around the mark, I am on my way there now, eta 4 min, call me back." Tera snapped the phone shut and slid it into the pocket of her vest as she breached the side door of the small hotel the team was using as a base.

A light mist fell from the black sky as Tera turned the key and the engine of the Ducati 696 rumbled to life. Tera gunned the engine producing a squealing back tire and a front tire that was nowhere near the pavement.

After a controlled slide onto N. Hinksey Ln. she accelerated fast, the sound of the high rev'ing Italian motor reverberating off the fronts of the darkened buildings; the sound following in her wake like a wave, heralding the brief passage of something ... dangerous.

The ear bud crackled to life, "Tera, we can't raise anyone on the team", for the first time since she met him, Nigel sounded scared and this did nothing to assuage the feelings of foreboding that had consumed Tera since she was pulled from sleep only moments before.

"I am on my way, will be onsite in 2 min, send back up Nigel, lots of it, I think we may have lost the mark." Tera said as she closed the connection.

Lost the mark, it was rare that she said this phrase; losing was not something that Tera allowed. 'Hang on Michael' she thought as she switched the ignition off and coasted into Roger Dudman Way.

...

Michael stood at the window looking out at the deep black of the canal, the light is what had convinced his mind to lease this place, the canal is what had called to his heart.

Michael turned from the window and grabbed his keys, stepping down the stairs in the dark and opening the door he was brought back to other mornings in the dark, walking out into her, having her envelope and welcome him into her opaque and forgiving arms.

The love affair with the water started early. Michael's parent had a small boat and their home was located on a canal that fed out onto the intercostal waterway.

From his earliest recollections the water had always been his friend. Whether it was swimming in the pool behind the house, learning to dive off the seawall of the canal or feeling the salty spray sting his face when his father would open up the throttle on their Donzi Criterion, Michael always felt at home in the water.

"Just a few more minutes" Michael thought to himself, it was late August, junior high had started a few weeks before and the water in the canal was just too warm and comforting to leave. The sky was beginning to show the strong pinks and reds of another hot Florida morning as he treaded water in the canal before starting his final lap.

It had become his habit over the summer to swim four or five long laps of the canal in the early dawn, his parents didn't know, as they both got up later than he. These times in the dark water always seemed to help him feel centered ... connected and he was not looking forward to being off the water when in a few months the temperature would end this ritual.

Finishing his fifth lap of the canal which was about 500 feet from one end to the mouth which opened onto the natural canal beyond he was not paying attention to anything other than his strokes and the feel of the water when he ran into ... something.

Startled but not scared Michael stopped and reached out a tentative hand. The object felt like wet leather but warm to the touch, and then it moved. It was a soft motion, seemingly not caused by his touch but more the natural movement of whatever he had encountered.

'Alligator' Michael thought as the adrenaline started to pump full force into his system.

Looking around, the dock behind his house and the stairs down to the water were about 30ft away. 'Not fast enough' he thought. Then in the growing pink light he saw a reflection in the water, it was an eye that was looking at him with a curiosity that projected ... intelligence.

The manatee moved slowly around Michael, its nose breaching the water now and then giving off a small spray as the 800lb animal breathed. Michael breathed as well, manatee's are herbivores and not known for a propensity to drown small boys in canals.

Michael's hand played over the warm back of the creature as it moved in a slow circle but maintained a distance that would not break the connection. Closing his eyes Michael saw the animal with his fingertips. It was an odd sensation, sometimes smooth, a hard barnacle, the deep soft crater of a scar, probably from a propeller.

As the light increased the two stayed there, different creatures joined in an instant of communion.

And that is how Michael's mother found him, as she walked out of the house in her robe holding a warm cup of coffee, swimming in the canal with a manatee.

For Michael the moment was ... evolutionary. The recognition that while not human, another animal could communicate feeling and emotion that could be recognized and appreciated by another.

The morning swims in the canal however, came to an end. Michael's mother was furious, his father thought it amusing, which did not bode well for his sleeping arrangements in the near future. However there was a firm new rule in the household, no swimming in the canal.

It was a few weeks later as Michael turned onto his street and saw his grandfather's truck parked outside his house that the river once again became a refuge and a place of simple wonder.

"Michael, come out back" his father called as he closed the garage door and entered the kitchen. Looking out through the sliding glass doors at the rear of the house Michael could see his father and grandfather standing on the dock beyond the pool.

"Oh you should have seen her face, I didn't get laid for 2 weeks" Michael heard the whispered end to his fathers conversation with his grandfather.

"Your grandfather found something you may be interested in Michael" his father said as Michael moved between the two men to see what they were looking at.

There in the water was perhaps the most beautiful thing Michael had seen in his young life

If floated lightly on the water, close to the surface but appearing to hover just above it at the same time. One long oar was extended into the water, the other lay along the boats chine allowing for entry from the dock.

"It's called a single scull" his grandfather said, smiling at the look of wonder in his grandson's eyes.

"I told your grandfather about the ... episode ... in the canal, he did a bit of searching and thought this might be a good middle ground between you and your mom" Michael's father said as he lightly put his hand on his shoulder.

"It's beautiful" Michael said as he moved down to the dock. His hand slipping over the smooth curved wood, feeling the boat more than seeing it.

"It will be fast, once you get the hang of it, your dad and I talked to your mom, she said as long as you're careful and TELL someone when you go out, you can use it as you will." The smile on Michael's face took weeks to wear off.

Michael and Talon, the name he chose for the small craft and lovingly inscribed on her stern, became daily companions.

Early mornings were his favorite, an hour of rowing down the quiet canals, or a hard fast push out in the intercostal, every morning that he could, rain, shine, cold, heat, Michael and Talon could almost always be found on the river discovering her mysteries and reveling in the connection with her.

It was seeing the three-man scull the day before that had sealed the deal. Michael was looking forward to getting back on the water. He had rowed through college, always making time between the deadlines, headaches and his one other passion to find some peaceful moments on the water.

With graduation and starting his professional life the trips to the river had become more and more infrequent and then finally stopped. This would be a perfect opportunity to pick it back up again and hopefully find the peace and balance that being alone on the water had always provided him.

The water was a different creature here than what she was back in Florida all those years ago. At home the river could turn on you quickly, go from calm and serene to a beast that was trying to kill you in an instant. Here she was more staid, still to be respected but not as quickly changeable as her red headed sister back home. Yes the water here different but a similar creature to that which seduced him all those years ago and her call today pulled him with just as much energy.

Stepping out the door Michael slipped his keys in his pocket and set off for an early morning run, making a mental note to ask Valerie if she knew of some place close by that he might be able to rent a scull.