Six hours later he was sweaty, exhausted, and covered in grease from his fingernails to his elbows, but the BMW was purring like it was brand new, and he was almost ridiculously happy. The work had been hard, but it had been wonderful therapy for his wrist and hands. Even Bonham was looking particularly smug.
He knew he needed a shower, but he went to the shop’s deep sink first and scrubbed his hands and arms with pumice soap to get off most of the oil and engine grease, then he whistled to himself all the way back to his room with its ensuite bath to wash off the rest.
Dorian was lounging in the bedroom’s reading nook – a cushioned window seat that faced the sea – when he walked into the room. The Earl had changed out of the white and green short set he’d been wearing earlier into a billowy, red kaftan with wide sleeves, and he had a book in his hand. He looked up as Klaus came in, an odd gleam in his eyes.
“What? No lewd comments about men and grease or some such perverted nonsense?” he teased when the man remained silent.
The Earl smiled, but the sadness was back, only now Klaus recognized it as longing – the look of a man who has seen the heavens and been denied. He hid the discomfort he felt looking into those eyes by rummaging in the dresser to pull out fresh clothes. Since he intended to take an evening run, he selected a soft, blue tracksuit and left off the undershirt.
“Oh, I assure you that there is quite a litany in my head. I’m just refraining from commenting aloud since I know such remarks would not be appreciated. But if you’d like to hear a few, I am sure I could oblige…” Dorian replied airily, waving a hand.
“Pah! I’m going to go take a shower and no thinking indecent thoughts about me naked in the bath!” he warned, glaring.
“Too late,” the Earl countered with glee.
He scowled and stomped into the bathroom, locking the door behind him, but there was no true anger in his actions. It was just a bit of joking between them. Both men knew Dorian had seen him naked numerous times over the past two months. As his primary caregiver during his convalescence, the Earl had had to perform any number of personal tasks that Klaus had been unable to do for himself, and he’d done them with a very high level of professionalism and respect.
In the beginning, Klaus hadn’t been able to object to Dorian touching him. He’d been so sick and injured that he hadn’t had the strength to fight the man with any more than a few grunts of protest. He hadn’t even been able to speak enough to yell at the thief and tell him to get his hands off, and by the time he could, the Earl had already proven himself to be a capable nurse. With both hands unusable, and his body wracked with fever and infection, he’d needed someone to help him, and he’d rather have had Dorian than strange man, or worse, a strange woman touching him.
He remembered from his stay in the hospital after the grenade explosion that consideration for modesty from the medical staff was in short supply. Nurses barged in at all hours, doctors brought in interns without his consent, aides thought they had every right to manhandle him every which way because they were medical “professionals.” Strange women touched him in intimate places with no regard for his sense of propriety, and his modesty was ridiculed as almost antiquated. He’d hated every minute of it until he was well enough to do his own washing and personal care.
Dorian, on the other hand, had gone to great lengths to accommodate his modesty. He’d undressed him only as much as necessary and only for the bare minimum of time. Baths were drawn with a profusion of bubbles, and Dorian had averted his eyes whenever bare flesh was exposed. He’d encouraged Klaus to do as much as he could for himself, even if the task took twice as long, and he’d never made Klaus feel pressured or rushed. He would never have guessed that the flighty, spoiled Earl had it in him to be such an attentive caregiver, but he’d been pleasantly surprised. He’d even enjoyed some of the things the man had done, finding him an unexpectedly talented masseur.
The Earl was still reading when he emerged from the shower, and Klaus noticed that the man reached up to brush the side of his neck while he was immersed in the pages, perhaps searching for an errant curl that was no longer there. He felt a pang of guilt for being responsible for Dorian’s short hair, but the Earl had never lamented the loss directly to him. He did notice that the hair was damp, a sure sign that Dorian had showered a short time ago, probably to wash off saltwater from a swim.
“I see the sharks did not eat you,” he said, drying his hair with a towel.
“They spit me back. Complained I was too skinny. I told them I’d give them you once I put more meat on your bones,” the Earl quipped, not missing a beat.
“Gut. I’ve never beaten up a shark before. It’d be good practice. I hear you have to punch them in the nose.”
The Earl’s answering giggle made him smile.
“Dinner will be ready soon. My lack of appetite was noted this afternoon. I have had no fewer than three inquiries about my health, and the cook has decided to make something that will be easy on my delicate constitution,” Dorian informed him with a hint of a amusement.
He chuckled and returned to the bathroom to comb his hair. When he stepped out again, he noticed a long wooden case on the bed. Casting a glance over at the still “reading” Earl, who was looking very intent on his book in an “I’m really just reading here and oh so innocent” way, he opened the box to reveal a universal gun cleaning kit.
“Ah!” he exclaimed with delight. “Where did you get this?”
“Benino has hunting rifles,” Dorian replied. “He let me borrow that for your Magnum.”
Klaus grinned as he inspected the case, making sure everything he needed to clean his gun was there. In his peripheral vision, he saw the thief preening and shook his head, still smiling.
“Thank you. I shall use this after dinner.”
“You are most welcome. You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you smile like that, even if it is over a piece of metal. But then, I have long known of your appreciation of the beauty of steel.”
“Ja.”
“Dinner should be ready. Shall we?” Dorian asked.
“Ja,” he agreed, carefully placing everything back in the cleaning kit the way it belonged and closing the case.
The Earl stowed his book and rose gracefully to his feet, the ridiculous, billowy robe fluttering around him, and they left the bedroom together. He knew the choice of foppish clothing was a defense mechanism, a way for the thief to express his uncertainty and disquiet by choosing garments that were deliberately meant to attract attention.
Klaus found it irritating, but he was willing to forgive it. When he was unhappy, he screamed and threatened his agents with Alaska. When Dorian was unhappy, he wore loud clothes that were designed to have people fawning and cooing over him. Each of them dealt with stress in their own way. He looked over at the Earl, noting the thoughtful expression on the other man’s face, and stepped a little closer. Dorian noticed the move and gave him a small smile.
It was twilight on the terrace so the sail awning had been retracted, allowing the subdued light to fall on the paving stones. The table had been set for two in much the same way it had been for lunch, except that it was more formal and had a lit candle on it. The staff was aware that the two of them were not lovers – although defining what they actually were was more complicated – but for some reason they always set the dinner table up for an intimate meal. Klaus had suggested having Bonham and the Bug join them for dinner to negate the waitstaff’s romantic notions until the horror of actually sharing a meal with Mr. James set in. After that, he couldn’t have cared less if someone had serenaded him and Dorian from the beach.
He waited while the Earl chose his usual seat before sitting down himself and placing his napkin on his lap. Shortly after, the waitstaff served the first course – a broth-based soup with herb bread. The wine was another white, but lighter and not as dry as the one they’d had at lunch. When the first course was over, the staff brought out a dish of grilled boneless chicken in wine sauce tossed over penne pasta and a selection of blanched vegetables. The food and drink were very good, but he noticed that the Earl kept looking up nervously.
“What is it?” he finally asked impatiently.
“We’re being watched, aren’t we?” the thief replied.
“Ja,” he confirmed.
Dorian shivered and frowned. “I can feel it. Thieves’ sixth sense. We can always tell when we’re being observed. Makes me nervous. It almost makes me wish they would come storming in because then at least it would be over with.”
Klaus calmly took a sip of his wine, wondering how much he should say and deciding that honesty was the best policy. “They won’t come here.”
“How do you know?”
He cleared his throat and looked down at his plate. “Because I told them to stay away.”
Dorian’s eyes opened wide. “Y… you told them? You’ve been in contact with them?”
“Not the way you think! I haven’t seen anyone, but I signed a message that everything was fine and they should stay away.”
“You… signed?” the Earl repeated, confused.
“Ja. It’s a kind of semaphore. All field agents learn it. I guessed the location where they were watching from and signed in that direction,” he explained.
“And did you get a response?”
“Ja. They’ll do as I ask.”
“So then what? You’ll go to them?”
He took another sip of his wine. “Ja.”
“Oh,” Dorian said, his expression falling and his eyes downcast. “When?”
“Not tonight. And probably not tomorrow either.”
“Why not? I would have thought you’d be eager to get back to work,” the thief stated coolly.
For some reason the Earl’s comment made him irrationally angry, and his whole body tensed.
“For what? So I can almost die trying to get back some harlot’s client list because a NATO General is on it? So some anti-government asshole can rape me because a rich businessman doesn’t want his wife finding out he’s fucking prostitutes? No. I’m too old for this bullshit,” he growled, stabbing his pasta forcefully.
“Major? Are you thinking of retiring?”
The Earl seemed shocked, aghast even.
“Why the fuck not?” he snapped. “I’ve been a military man for over thirty years. I’ve served faithfully. I never failed my duty or shirked a mission. No one has my record. No one. And this is how they repay me for all my years of service? Sending me to play retriever for a cheating bastard? You still have that flash drive, don’t you?”
“Of course, Major. It’s in a very safe place.”
“Gut, because if the Chief thinks I’m going to be quiet about this, he’s dead wrong. Fucking pervert bastard,” he snarled.
He wasn’t sure where all the anger had suddenly come from, but he was practically vibrating with it. Maybe it was because it was all coming to roost now or because it meant that he would have to face everything that had happened to him. Or maybe it was because he felt that his sanctuary had been violated and he was getting territorial. He’d been safe. He’d been happy, and now it was all going to go to shit. Regardless of the reasons, he was fuming with rage.
“I’ll help you, Major. You know I will. I’ll leak the list to the press if you want me to. You only have to say the word.”
“Not if you don’t want to end up dead,” he warned. “No, you let me handle this. They’ll learn not to fuck with Iron Klaus.”
He heard Dorian snort delicately and glared at the fop. “Not like that, you pervert!”
His indignation only made the Earl snicker more. “You have to admit, you walked right into that one, Major.”
He sighed and conceded the point. “Ja. I suppose you’re right.”
The little tête-à-tête worked to calm him down some and he resumed his meal.
“Though I must say, it’s the first time I’ve seen you so worked up about something since I found you. It’s nice to know that your temper is still there. I was beginning to worry because you’ve been so mellow recently,” Dorian admitted.
The Earl was right. He had been mellow. He’d been mellow because he’d been safe and protected, and no bullshit had bothered him. Now all of his feelings of security and peace had been popped like a bubble, and he felt like he was the crying child who had suddenly realized that his shiny, floating ball was nothing more than a drop of inflated soap.
Damn A! And damn his Alphabets for being good agents for once. He hadn’t wanted to be found. He wasn’t ready to go back. He’d half a mind to take Dorian up on his offer to run, but he knew he couldn’t. If he left now, he’d be declared AWOL, brought up on desertion charges, and forced to resign his post in disgrace. He hadn’t spent the last thirty-two years of his life serving NATO and his country to have them humiliate him that way, even if that meant his safe place had been invaded.
“Pah! Don’t spout bullshit. I’m still Iron Klaus,” he grumbled sullenly.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it, it’s just that it’s been so long since I’ve seen him. It’s a relief, actually, but might I ask you to please refrain from hitting me from now on? I really don’t fancy being struck,” Dorian replied.
“Gah. I won’t hit you… unless you really piss me off!” he agreed with a glare.
He’d expected the Earl to flinch, but Dorian just grinned at him, joy shining in his blue eyes.
“What are you smiling at, you pervert?” he demanded.
“You’ve always been your most magnificent when you’re angry, Major. You take my breath away,” Dorian cooed, his face ecstatic.
“Take your breath… Stop spouting foppish nonsense! You’re a man! Act like one! Idiot!” he fumed, clenching his fists.
The Earl just shivered with delight. “Oh, how I’ve missed your verbal abuse, Major. Please, call me a degenerate pervert again. I love to watch how your lips curl to form the words.”
“Watch my lips…” he repeated, taking a deep breath in preparation for a tirade the likes of which he hadn’t screamed in three months when he noticed a gleam of amusement in the Earl’s eyes and caught a clue. “You’re provoking me on purpose, you idiot.”
The thief gave him an innocent, sly look and took a drink from his wine glass. “Now why would I do that, Major? To provoke Iron Klaus is inherently dangerous.”
He groaned and relaxed. “To distract me from my unhappiness. You really are suicidal.”
“Not suicidal. I just thought your having a good scream might make you feel better.”
He scowled and sat back in his seat, taking a piece of herb bread and ripping it into small pieces and tossing them at the Earl.
“Stop that. Jamesie will come out here crying about your wasting food and make us both sick when he eats the crumbs off the ground.”
“If he does, can I kill the Stingy Bug?” he asked gleefully.
The Earl gave him a disdainful look. “No. You may not kill him. You may not even maim him.”
“Spoilsport.”
Dorian snickered, and that made him snicker, and soon he was laughing softly.
“You are…” he sighed, then stopped, shaking his head and resuming his meal.
Storm passed, the waitstaff whisked out to clear away the plates and bring out the salad course. This time they brought a simple spinach salad with mushrooms and grated Parmesan cheese accompanied by a light vinaigrette dressing. Dessert was a fabulous Limoncello Zabaglione with raspberries that was a perfect blend of sweet and tartness, and both he and the Earl gobbled up every last bit.
“There,” Dorian stated, wiping the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “I think I have redeemed myself in the eyes of the cook.”
“Ja. She is dancing with joy because you ate all your dinner, and I am a bloated mess because I ate too much again,” he sighed, patting his full belly.
“That’s because the cook always gives you double portions, and you always eat all of it because you don’t want to upset her,” the Earl pointed out.
“Fattening me up for the sharks?” he teased.
Dorian gave him a coy smile and pulled out a cigarette. “Precisely.”
Klaus motioned for one even though he didn’t care for the Earl’s brand. He’d all but stopped smoking, but he still enjoyed a cigarette after a good meal. A few nights ago, Dorian had joked that the Major smoked after eating because he’d substituted food for sex. He’d snorted and deadpanned that he smoked after sex too, and that shut the other man up.
Dorian smiled and offered him the slim cigarette, and he accepted, as well as the offer of a light. He drew deep on the filter and sat back, enjoying the act of smoking if not the taste.
“Danke,” he said.
“Kein problem.”
He snorted and smoked his cigarette as the two of them sat in companionable silence. It was full sunset now and the sky was a blaze of colors. He sighed, trying not to think about what was to come.
Finally, after about a half hour of digesting the meal, he finished off his wine and stood.
“Well, I fear I must thwart your evil plan by taking my evening run,” he announced.
“But I thought you wanted to practice punching sharks in the nose,” the thief countered, looking up at him innocently.
“True, but not tonight.”
“All right, but don’t overdo it,” Dorian cautioned. “I wouldn’t want the sharks to complain that you were too wiry and tough.”
He gave the Earl a soft smile. “I won’t. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“That long? Is that wise with them… out there?” Dorian asked, concerned.
He frowned. “They won’t take me. I won’t let them.”
The Earl gazed at him, his eyes serious and measuring, then turned away. “Okay. Good luck.”
He grunted and headed off the terrace to the path that led down to the beach. Once there, he did his warm-up stretches and began with a slow jog, steadily increasing his pace until he was at his ideal speed. Forty-five minutes later he spied the black clad figure standing on the shore. The man was a blacker hole against the already dark horizon, but Klaus saw him immediately, probably because he wanted to be seen. He breezed past the figure and was not surprised when the man fell in behind him, matching his pace. They jogged together for another twenty minutes or so before he slowed down and finally came to a halt.
Turning to face the man, he wasn’t surprised when the agent pulled back his hood to reveal Agent Z looking back at him.
“Z,” he stated calmly, wondering why he had a sudden, desperate need for a smoke. Come to think of it, dealing with his men had always made him crave cigarettes. He filed that little tidbit away for later examination.
“Major, I’m disobeying orders by making contact, but I had to speak with you,” Z said in a rush.
“Why? I signed that I would come to you. Do you have any…?” He motioned for a smoke.
Z’s hands shook as he pulled the pack out of the front pocket of his black jacket and offered it to the Major.
“Danke,” he said, taking one and leaning forward so Z could light it for him.
“We have orders to bring you in, but not to engage you until you’ve been debriefed by someone from NATO central command,” the agent explained.
Klaus gritted his teeth. “Until the higher-ups have figured out what I know, you mean,” he growled. That meant General Bayden knew he was alive and suspected that he was in possession of the flash drive. This could not be good. ‘Use my own men against me, will you? You bastard.’
“Sir?” Agent Z said cautiously.
“Yes?” he replied, trying to think his way through this mess. He motioned for a second cigarette as he ground what was left of the first into the sand, and Z readily handed one over.
“Sir, if I may say, it’s wonderful to see you. A told us you were… badly injured when he found you in Zurich. I am glad that it appears you have… recovered well.”
He snorted, now even more glad that Eroica had whisked him out of Switzerland. If he’d been turned over to a NATO hospital while he was still so weak and helpless, he’d probably be dead.
“I am mending,” he replied, taking a deep hit off the cigarette. He would reek of tobacco smoke when he got back to the villa, but he didn’t care.
“When G saw you having lunch with the Earl this afternoon, he nearly cried with joy.”
He frowned, clenching his jaw. “G is an idiot. I am fine.”
“Yes, Sir,” Z whispered meekly.
Klaus frowned, thinking. If Bayden was using NATO to try to get the flash drive and silence him, his men were in danger. He and the Earl could easily disappear again, but hiding twenty-six agents would be tricky.
“Listen Z, this is going to get ugly before it’s over. I advise you to steer clear of me, otherwise you and the Alphabets will get dragged into it with me,” he warned.
“Sir, we are loyal to you, all of us. We don’t understand what is happening, but we have all decided to stand with you,” Z replied, standing tall.
“And risk your careers? No, I can’t let you do that. I have the Earl with me. We can use his resources if need be,” he refused, sucking deep on the cigarette.
“We have orders to capture and detain the Earl as well. We’re to bring him to NATO headquarters. Rumor has it that NATO intends to hand him over to INTERPOL.”
‘Over my dead body.’ Which was probably the intention. It would be a clever way of getting rid of two loose ends, and General Bayden was probably eager to eliminate the two people who most likely knew his secret.
Z looked disconcerted by his silence, but he was considering his options. If General Bayden was against him, things would get very unpleasant very quickly, but the General obviously didn’t know who he was dealing with, nor did he know anything about Eroica.
“Sir, your orders? What do you want us to do?”
Scenarios were running through his head, plans and avenues of attack. The only way to save himself was to expose the General’s involvement with the Madam and his attempts to use NATO resources against a fellow officer.
“General Bayden is a Yank, is he not?” he asked suddenly.
“Yes, Sir, I do believe he is,” Z confirmed.
“Gut. That will work in our favor. Has NATO sent any other teams other than the Alphabets?”
“Not that I know of, Sir, and I can’t say I’ve seen anyone that I recognize who isn’t one of us, but, of course, I can’t be certain.”
‘Bayden probably thinks my men aren’t loyal because they are terrified of me, and he probably thinks they won’t help a known thief and pervert. Asshole.’
He grunted, thinking quickly. If he could somehow get the flash drive with the General’s name to a JAG lawyer, he could be brought up on charges for conduct unbecoming an officer, and it wouldn’t even have to be a high-ranking JAG lawyer. In a JAG investigation, even a Lieutenant would out-rank a General.
‘Come to think of it, there is a JAG rep stationed in Germany…’
A plan began to form and he smiled. “Okay, this is what I want you to do…”