Lucid

Chapter 36

POV: Y/N
I see Liz walk to the door, and she knocks. It doesn't take long for someone to open it, and embrace her tightly, before yelling behind that that Liz has arrived. This is the hard part- families. Traveling is easy. Evading missiles and commanding military interceptors? Nothing. But a family is a struggle for me.

Maybe I just miss my own. Maybe mine was a little odd and it makes normal ones confusing. But either way, I know every time I've seen a family together it hurts a little, and when I'm talking with one, I can never quite understand how they stay so close. My father and I were close, but we didn't talk. I knew I could trust him, and he knew he could trust me. We shared good news, and bad news. We ate the same food at the same table, if possible. But we didn't exactly talk. Anyways, not a good time for that.

I see Liz, hugging a boy a little younger than her, her brother. Her mom and dad are behind him, clearly happy to see her. Pulling out the bags, I swing mine over my shoulder and carry hers in my hand. It's much lighter than mine, thankfully. I'm too used to having everything on me at all times, so I tend to overpack. Walking up behind her, they're taking about how she arrived earlier than expected. She turns to point at me, then notices I'm walking up onto their porch.
"So, Appa, Eomma, this is-" She pauses. "This is Fixer." I nod my head in greeting, then realize I should say something.
"Hello." Her mom bows, and her dad puts his hand out. He knows about different cultures, interesting. I trade Liz's bag to the other hand, and shake his. He's firm, but not tense or aggressive. Probably just shaping me up, I'm a new person who's around his beloved daughter.
"Welcome." He says.
"Welcome." Mrs. Kim also says. Her Brother just says,
"Hi."
"Let's go inside! It's so good that you're back." Says her mother, wrapping her arm around Liz affectionately. The family turns their focus from me to her, and walks inside. I set the bags down in the front room, as they walk off. It's a simple layout, so I know where they went, off through the kitchen and into the living room. It's a peaceful place, fairly standard for a farmhouse. Comfortable though, and spacious. Liz is talking to her family, telling them about her time as an idol and what it's like. They seem enraptured. Stepping out the front door again, I take a look around. One entry road, but you could cross a field if needed. Visual cover but no defensive cover. No aerial obstructions. Only a few places to land a helicopter because of the orange trees. And... it's pretty. Smells amazing too. The trees provide a lot of shade between the walkways. There's orange fields in every direction, with roads to every path and paths between each row of trees. It's pretty much as far as you can see through the trees, entirely just oranges. It's not harvest season yet, it should have just ended. But I think there's a few orange specs on the trees that I can see. I'm sure I'll have one or two, I've heard they're unavoidable. But enough surveying. I head back inside and see her brother picking up her back. He looks at me closely, and I do the same. He seems like not much out of the norm honestly. Not that that's bad.
"You don't seem like a normal manager." He says. I shrug.
"I'm not. I work for the company on a side job, and Liz just needed help. So I brought her." There's a pause.
"That's nice of you. I'm Kim Han Bin, by the way." He bows, and I return it. While he's bent over, he grabs something off the ground and hands it to me. "This fell out of your bag." Looking at it, it's an RE-45 automatic pistol, one I kept in a side pocket of my bag. His eyes are unreadable as he hands it, but I understand his feelings when he says, "Just... use it for her. Not against her." I nod silently, hoping to reassure him. He doesn't seem entirely reassured. I slot the pistol into my pocket, and shoulder my bag.
"Is there a place for me to sleep?"
"Follow me." He walks into the living room, and waives a hand to his parents.
"I'm putting him in the guest room."
"That's perfect, thank you." Says Mrs. Kim. He turns and walks down a hallway, and stops a a further door.
"Here." He opens it, and it's a basic looking room. I step in, and it's nothing impressive but it fits me nicely. I set my bag down, and slide the pistol back into its pocket.
"Thank you." I say, and he nods. We share that, as a communication form. He leaves, and I take my jacket off and put it on the bed. My bag simply has clothes, gear, and a few essentials, so I don't need to unpack. The rest of my gear I'll keep with me, in case. I unzip it, pull the clothes to the top instead of the gear, tuck a few smaller pieces into their spots after they'd slipped during transit, and rezip the bag. Her brother has left, so I take a seat on the bed. I don't actually have anything to do here, after all. I came to deliver Liz and take her home in a few days, but aside from that, there's nothing else. I have my various daily chores, small contracts for information from various global sources. I pull out my computer, activating the holographic display and starting to connect to my network. A long time ago, I would have had to get information myself, but nowadays, I can rely on people I've previously worked with to share information relying on promise of rewards or favors. It's broker work, but it furthers my reputation. There's two combat requests, but neither worth my time. i connect them to other operatives who can get their requests done, and move on. The last orders aren't ones I need to reply to, instead just follow ups and other information drops. A message from the JPMC chairman's office, something from Petrobas, a completely empty email from Rheinmetal? Odd. Cadillac is contacting me again, looking for more sabotage. Once again, something I'll give to a secondary. In the beginning, companies would give me groups of people to back me up. Usually other teams of bounty hunters, assassins, espionage artists, and mercenaries. I never needed them, but they became contacts to have later. Now, I give them jobs I don't feel worth my personal investment. It's a good relationship, and helps me keep allies and make money on the side. Some of them are unreliable, but I've managed to prune those ones out, and cleaned up their messes. Now, my list is like a well-trained army, who I can disperse, and hire if I need. But I don't trust others with my personal problems, and business issues, are contracts.

Shutting down, I put the computer away and head back outside. Liz is sitting on a couch taking with her family about her life, and in turn they give her updates about things happening here at her homestead. I listen in for a minute, leaning one or two things. I've never worked on an Orange farm, so what they explain is new to me. Liz's stories make more sense, as I've spent time with idols, and I know enough about them. I can realize now the one flaw with my plan- I'll have to stay here for the whole time she's here, and in truth, I have nothing to do. But then again, I can always train. Turning back to my room, I flip open my bag and put on a better athletic outfit, then swap to some running shoes. Walking back to the main room, I waive a hand.
"Since you have all this land, I'll go for a run. Let me know if you need anything, Liz." The father looks up at me, noticing my change of outfit.
"Be careful of the dogs around the south fence." He says, and turns back to Liz. She glances at me, seeming slightly uncertain, and I give her a small smile, hoping to reassure her. She nods, and I turn.

Heading out the door, I move into a moderate jog, towards the front gate. I'll make a lap of the farm to check it out, then make a few more for exercise. It's been a while since I've had a good, simple jog, without awkward flips or maneuvers during it. It's always helped me think, just running. Higher heart rate, faster muscle response, the constant motion seems to accelerate your thoughts and reflexes. As I work across the front fence, I start to get into my mental place of solace. The thump of the ground, the synchronized rhythm of the legs, the arms, and the breathing. The smell of oranges is new, but dismissible. Everything else takes me to a relaxing, calming, and familiar cadence of my own separate reality. I've been very reflective recently, deeper into thought of my own life and my emotions. Opening that safe is risky, but something I've always needed to do. And one day I will, just... not yet. I can only handle so many issues at a time, and my past is one issue I can't handle right now. Hell, I'm not always sure I can handle the present. Then again, it's not as if I have a choice. Have I ever? More philosophy. I have choices and I don't. Make them, don't make them. Avoid them. A whirlwind of ethics and no-win games, of calamities, tragedies, and catastrophes, of victories, epiphanies, and contingencies. But that's not me. I may doubt a lot of things, but I have certainties. I'm a soldier. I'm not who I once was, but I always will be a soldier. They couldn't take that from me.