GLASS BAY PART 7
7 LIFE ON THE FARM
Aloysius Hayes was alone in the gym. The former Army Ranger and, later, of the CIA Special Operations Division used most down time at something useful. Not saying he didn’t have a social life between missions. Far from it. Lately there wasn’t much in the way of ‘between missions’. The world was already running hot. Add on top of all that a spreading virus, there wasn’t going to be any of that kind of down time in the near future. But downtime still happens. Like now. Mission downtime. That period of time that crawls along, tearing at you mentally, trying to get under one’s skin. Some people called it mission creep and it was the worst for when you knew action was around the corner. Aloysius knew that his time for action was drawing near. But he had to wait. Had to wait for Nathaniel Greene to sift through all the data so the General could point him in the right direction. Since he was the type of person that had to keep busy—for a multitude of reasons—and busy was the best way to combat mission creep, might as well stay in shape.
Aloysius went around the bar and put on another twenty-five pounds. Increasing it to 275. His training regiment was more like that of an olympic cross country skier than body builder—bigger wasn’t always better—working out arms, legs and chest. To stay lean as well as strong. But most importantly for stamina. Stamina was what kept you in the game. Strength fades. And if you could not outlast your opponent who most likely has the same set skills what was the point? The half inch of cushion on the weight bench sank underneath him as Aloysius settled below the bar that now crossed over him. He adjusted his grip along the bar and when he felt he had a good hold upon pulled the bar and the 275 pounds of weight off the holders and let fall slowly towards his chest. Most people used a spotter when lifting. In case one couldn’t bring it all the way back up. Aloysius, however, almost never did. Figuring it was usually him against the world. And in the real world the only person he could only rely on was himself in most situations. When it was about an inch from his body Aloysius pushed hard up in quick but measured successions. The bar clanked on the holders after completing a five set of five reps. He sat up and shook out his arms. He had been at this, with fluctuating weight, for more than an hour. The arms were finally beginning to feel like jelly. Aloysius got off the weight bench, grabbing his gatorade as he did and walked over to the full length mirror that made up the wall just behind the knee high rack where the dumbbells and kettle bells were kept. Sweat glistened his chest and face, his hair wet. Naked from the waist up. Wearing only a pair of long loose fitting combat shorts. His eyes roamed over the scars that covered parts of his body. A road map to the sometimes violent life he led. Thankfully with all the combat experience he had he was still relatively normal looking. Not a Frankenstein of patch work. Like a few he had known over the years. At thirty eight, how long could he continue to do what he did and still be human both mentally and physically? He shook the thought from his mind. Now was not the time to ponder the future.
Aloysius closed up the bottle. Tossing it back on the floor next to the weight bench as he turned from the mirror and started to make his way over to the Steelflex PL2300 for his squats routine when he was interrupted by one of Nathaniel Greene’s tech analysts. The slim athletic form of Lexi Palmer entered the gym. Nerdy to the core but undeniably attractive. While she could explain the latest in AI software or an in-depth reasoning for a SQL query crash, Lexi Palmer could also explain the deep hidden meanings of a Stanley Kubrick film. And if one looked hard enough, find a well thumbed trashy novel. Dressed as she was—brown hair pulled back into a ponytail; tailored black jeans and a vintage Rolling Stones band t-shirt underneath a black waist length blazer—Lexi Palmer wasn’t there for a work out. “Sorry to disturb you, Agent Hayes.” Her voice is calm and measured.
Aloysius squatted and grabbed the towel that was on the floor near the gatorade bottle. “You know, you don’t have to call me ‘agent’,” he said, wiping the sweat off his face. “I know you came from the rigid world of Langley. But if you haven’t figured it out, we’re a little more loose here. Well, at least I am anyway.”
Lexi smiled, and Aloysius could see the dry sense of humor she tried to keep hidden show its face. “Sorry. You know. Old habits tend to die hard.”
“That they do. What can I do for you, Lexi?”
The smile vanished and Lexi Palmer was once again all business. “I am here to let you know that you have a meeting with Mr. Greene and the General at eighteen hundred in the main conference.”
Aloysius gazed up at the clock on the wall. “Well. It seems I have a couple of hours. Let’s say I shower and dress and you and I find someplace quiet to eat.”
The smile was back. “That sounds like fun. But...”
“But?”
“I don’t think that’s allowed.”
“Allowed?”
“Isn’t it against the rules for us to fraternize with co-workers?”
Aloysius flipped the towel around his neck as he stood. “Against the rules?” he said, making his way to where Lexi Palmer stood. “What are rules for if not for breaking?” He paused in front of her. Then said, “You are right. We should skip the formalities—” Aloysius flipped the towel from around his neck to around hers and pulled Lexi close to him, “—and go straight to the fraternization part.”
UP NEXT: INFO DUMP
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