Nightswan

NaNo - Day 28

- Alessio -

Alessio had put conversing with other Flight members face to face off long enough.  Crane called him repeatedly, and it got to the point that Alessio actually snapped at him.  He was seriously getting sick of living this second life, and the fact that Vasilisa didn't support it—for good reason—only made things harder.  Although she didn't voice it, he could tell she wasn't happy he had to go one of their safe houses in the Bronx.  That was as much information as he was willing to give her.

This particular building was the Flight's training facility of sorts.  The large, open space was divided into different sections by partitions you might come across in an office building.  One area was devoted to hand-to-hand combat without weapons.  Another, with weapons.  A few computers occupied one corner for lessons in some topic Alessio never had to study.  He proved his technical skills early on.  Plus, the Flight was far more interested in his artistic abilities at the beginning of his association.

A select few had been invited to this particular meeting: Alessio himself plus Eagle, Falcon, Crane, and a painter named Peacock.  They were the advisers whom he trusted most...and he was also trying to decide who would replace Pigeon as one of his deputies.  Peacock reminded Alessio a little too much of himself, as from what Alessio could pull from him, he likewise had a military background.  In fact, Peacock was one of the few with whom he'd shared that snippet of information.  Not even Crane knew, although the man probably suspected.  Alessio knew far too much about weaponry and combat strategy to be a "regular" civilian.

He arrived early since he wanted a few moments to himself but wasn't alone.  Falcon stood in the combat training section, practically destroying a punching bag.  The redhead had stripped of his shirt and shone with a film of sweat.  Freckles covered every inch of skin that Alessio could see.  Hiding his disappointment, Alessio walked across the room to hold the bag still as Falcon sent his fist into it until too much sweat had fallen into his eyes, and he had to wipe it away.

"Rough day?" Alessio asked.

"Yes.  Stressful.  Too many people asking too many stupid questions." The man had a distinct Southern accent that Alessio would never tire of hearing.  It was a nice change from what he heard every day.

Better to not ask more questions, Alessio knew.  He nodded sympathetically. "I know what that's like."

"Real-life or Flight-life?"

"Both." A single laugh erupted from Alessio's throat. "'Flight-life.' Were you the genius who thought up that rhyme?"

"Does it matter?" Falcon raised a brow.

Alessio shrugged.

"Would you be up for a spar?"

"I'm not exactly dressed for it." Alessio gestured to his button-down shirt and jeans.

"Hasn't stopped you before!" Falcon grinned at him. "Get out some of that aggravation I'm sure is bubbling up under your cool composure.  You know you want to.  Try against someone who might actually be a challenge for you."

Falcon was right with that one.  When he was in good health, Alessio was almost unbeatable.  He prided himself in keeping his skills fresh, but he hadn't tested himself since his injury.  Besides that one visit to the gym with Vasilisa, and his skin had screamed at him the entire time.

"You may have to take it a bit easy on me," Alessio said as he unbuttoned his shirt and hung it over a chair.  Underneath, he had on a sleeveless undershirt that wasn't thick enough to completely hide the bandages across his abdomen.

"What happened?" Falcon's brown eyes were keen.

"Pigeon tried to kill me," Alessio said.  He adjusted his stance into more of a ready position, signaling to Falcon not to broach the subject. "Let's go."