Our Bruised Bodies | Bradley Bradshaw

ACT FOUR - PART SEVENTEEN

Cheers! 

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There are not many people, who can stun a room into silence. Not many people, who can pull the attention of an entire room to them by just stepping inside. People, who change the atmosphere of an entire room, filled with the brass and another half a hundred officers, but then again it happened twice that night.

When Tom Kazansky, the Iceman stepped inside the room. The Commander of the Pacific Fleet, the boss of every person serving their country in the pacific, or stateside at the Westcoast. The room was filled with approximately a hundred people, well decorated officers, who have earned their reputation and made a name for themselves, but as the door swung open and Iceman stepped through, they were all stunned into silence. Not daring to move, not even allowing their eyes to dart away from the man for a single moment.

Jake had been holding a drink, he had plugged from a tray, talking to a young Lieutenant Commander, a woman not half a decade older, freshly promoted, but the conversation instantly died as the Commander of the Pacific Fleet stepped through the door.

He wasn't even one of the last people doing so, Kazansky didn't care for the grand entrance of entering last, he didn't need to force respect with such games. He just entered after he arrived, not bothered much by it all, but other than Kazansky, the people around him were bothered. By his sheer presence which seemed to make breathing just that bit harder. They were worried even, afraid they could displease him with their presence only, not that Kazansky was a tyrant, or even unkind. He had a no bullshit personality and lead by actually leading his people. He was respected because he had earned that respect. He was compassionate and knew when his men needed encouragement and when they needed a good cold scolding like children caught with the hand in the cookie jar.

Instantly, the three stars began to move, no matter where they were, pushing through the crowd to walk up to Kazansky. Paying their respect and from there on, the tension eased a bit. Kazansky's attention was on his three stars, who all sucked up to him, exchanged pleasantries and made compliments.

Jake guessed the man would have rather stayed in his office at Pearl Harbour, if he was anything like his daughter, than having no escape when surrounded by his three stars, not that he thought either of those men would ever dare to speak up again in their entire life, should Kazansky tell them to shut up, which far enough, he wouldn't either.

Watching the Commander of the Pacific fleet over the rim of his glass while holding a pleasant conversation with the woman in front of him, Jake noticed that Kazansky never smiled. Something he had in common with his daughter, who was rumoured to make an appearance too, but hasn't shown up just yet. Maybe she was prone to the big entrance. Her husband, the Admiral Simpson, who had just gotten his third star, was standing close to his father-in-law sucking up to him too, but not even he managed to make the old bastard smile. Which in return made Jake smile into his drink a little bit.

Then something changed, the relaxation that had just settled over the company Jake was in, was replaced with nervous energy Jake couldn't place but then he saw a familiar figure with old money blonde hair. She looked well enough, even though Jake thought she must have lost weight since the time at the academy, not that she was ever even close to being overweight.

It was most likely due to Bradshaw's accident. Maybe she even blamed herself. Jake found that he thought she had it coming, even thought he had aways blamed Bradshaw for what had befallen their friendship, he had to admit that Grace hadn't been innocent either. It was her doing as much as his and maybe Natasha and he had more a hand in Bradshaw's accident than Grace did, for it was them, who told him about Grace's wedding as he crossed the street. It was them, who doomed him, for the sake of Grace, he thought.