The Girl With Six Marks The Battle of New York City Chapter Three
Stark Tower- Three months later
The rain taps gently against the glass; the morning was a dark cloudy one. The rest of Alyanna's leave was about to expire and to say both Tony and Alyanna were disappointment would be an understatement. They laid in Tony's big bed together, Alyanna pressed into his side and his arms wrapped around her protectively.
The billionaire stares up at the ceiling, his mind racing a mile a minute. "You must be crazy if you think I'm going to allow you to return to the army. You deserve much better than that," he tells her, playing with his mark.
Alyanna was silent for a minute, looking at the window and watching the rain slam against it. Ironically the weather reflected both of their moods. She flicks her eyes up to his face and she reaches up to tickle his facial hair. Sighing, she speaks quietly, "I know baby, but what else am I going to do? It's my job and I love serving."
Tony suddenly sits up and scoffs, "I understand loving to serve, but really Aly? You're my mate, you don't need a job. I can give you everything you need. I'll take care of you."
She bites her lip and sits up with him. "You can't expect me to stay here for the rest of my life do you? What do you want me to be? A housewife?"
Tony gives her a stern look. "You know I don't." He reaches up and lifts a finger under her chin. "I admire your skills, but I rather you not be in the line of danger."
She moves away from him and off the bed. She stands and grabs her robe that was discarded on the floor. Pulling it over her shoulders she walks up to the window, peering down into the streets below. She watches as the raindrops run down the tinted glass, holding up her hand she gently places on the glass. Closing her eyes, she remembers the days out in the desert.
Flashback
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The air was thickly dry and the wind burned as it blew sand and dust into the sky. Not a single cloud was in sight, and the sun felt extra blistering today. Chap-lips, burnt flaky skin, and a wind burn that felt like it had cut through to the bone was the basic description of how Alyanna felt right now. She had been walking for what felt like miles, her squad trailing behind her in no better shape than her.
"Sgt, how much longer?" A young private questioned, his voice raw from lack of water.
"About another mile now," she responds, the saliva in her mouth had long been dried up.
She heard the small groan come him and she found herself turning to him. Pulling out her cantine she tossed it him. He looked at her grateful. "Thanks Sgt."
She nodded and they tracked on. They were sent to retrieve a box of supplies that had been knocked off course and landed miles away from base. She volunteered to lead the squad and she was expected back by that evening. It was currently around 1500 (3pm) and she was making great time.
