The Great Below

The Scope Training - Part 2

It wasn't a date – it was the furthest thing from a date Alex could think of. All the same, he spent the better part of an hour getting dressed and ready. At the end of shaving, he looked close in the mirror and discovered he'd missed a spot at the corner of his lips. He tried to master applying hair pomade from the plastic jar on his bathroom counter, after rinsing a layer of dust off the lid. He changed clothes twice and then spent five minutes or so staring at various bottles of cologne. Some women liked them and some didn't; some smells were appealing and others, irritating. What was the right amount? He'd always just put it on before; why did he have to think about it so much?

The only decision he felt right about was the leather jacket; there was nothing to second-guess there. After he slid it on, feeling ready to emerge from his room, he returned to the mirror in the bathroom and considered how he could abandon the entire evening.

He dragged himself to the weapons cage on the second floor. It was called a cage because it was exactly that: a small room whose fourth wall, the one facing the hallway, was composed of chain-link fence. Inside was their store of weapons and an aging desktop computer they used to take inventory. Alex wasn't close enough to see inside, but he could hear Nick showing the room to Octavia. He nearly went in but thought better of it, pacing back the way he'd come to try again. It wasn't wise to sneak up on anyone in the weapons cage.

It's not a date. Don't be stupid.

But he hadn't seen her in a few days, and he'd spent so long getting ready, and now he couldn't quite push himself into the same room with her. This assignment could end in disappointment. Their connection might have been illusion, worn thin as the days passed. Something about spending an entire evening with her pointed to the frailty of it.

"Hey," Nick said, emerging from the cage with a long rifle case. "Were you coming to meet us, or is tonight's lesson on Strategic Lurking?"

Behind him, Octavia stepped out into the hall while fastening a too-large woolen peacoat. There was improvement. She no longer wore the clothes she'd been captured in; she'd selected the black sweatpants and hoodie he'd bought. Her long, shining cascade of hair had been washed and dried, making her pale skin glow under the hall lights, but there was color in her cheeks. One side of her lips hitched in a smile when she saw him.

"Could you run ahead and meet us upstairs?" Nick asked her. "And please don't take me literally. Running at our front door is hazardous to your health."

"I know," she said, passing Alex with a nod and vanishing into the stairwell.

"What's that about?" Alex asked.

"I just wanted a moment alone. But also, I'm a little concerned about something and I think we need to be honest about it. Get it all out on the table."

Alex rubbed his hands together, concerned about their dampness, and saw that he was found out. Too much cologne, perhaps.

Nick leaned in, patting him on the shoulder. "You see," he said, "I think you and I need to get past this sexual tension between us."

"You're funny."

Nick shook his head solemnly. "Flattery is only going to exacerbate the problem."

#

Octavia had reached the top of the stairs. When she leaned out to the security checkpoint, she could see a stout, bald-headed man playing solitaire at the desk. If Alex and Nick took her outside, it would be the farthest she'd gotten yet in her escape attempts. Would her opportunity come outdoors?

She scolded herself. Victor wouldn't have run.

Victor had done nothing but get his own way right up until the end, and he would have seen this strange opportunity through. He would have found a way to turn the tables on Dominic. Octavia imagined Victor's ghost like an invisible armor, shielding her. He would prove more useful dead than he ever was alive.