The Game He Lost

The Drop

The Knapsack hadn't felt this heavy the last time. It hadn't been light, but it hadn't weighed on Abe's shoulder like this. It wasn't simply because there was more money inside. It was because now, he knew what was in it.

Thirty million dollars. It was incredible. It was the stuff of fantasies, the dream of every soul who had purchased a lottery ticket. It was more money than Abe could possibly use in a lifetime.

It was the price that had been put on a child's life.

Abe swung the pack from his shoulder to his lap and locked his arms around it. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply a few times, just as Sandra had shown him. He had to stay calm. He needed to think clearly and oxygen was supposed to help.

The bus jerked forward. Abe inhaled the tang of diesel fumes. It was probably only his imagination that made him think he also caught the scent of Finn, but tension was sharpening his senses. Even if Finn's leg hadn't been pressed firmly against his thigh, Abe was sure he would have felt Finn's presence.

They were using public transport to get to the Mall so that no one could trace the vehicle he arrived in. most of the team had been in position since before dawn. The rest were arriving at the target zone gradually to blend in with the civilians.

Target zone. Civilians. After only a few days with the Nighthawks, he was starting to think the way the commander talked.

Finn laid his palm lightly on Abe's knee. "We get off at the next stop. How are you doing?"

Abe opened his eyes and turned to look at Finn. He was sitting beside him on the seat that ran across the back of the bus. Abe suspected Finn hadn't gotten any more sleep than he had after Ghost had finished his briefing last night. The lines beside his mouth seemed deeper, and there was a hint of shadow beneath his eyes. Yet his gaze was clearer and more focused than he had seen before.

Finn thrived on this. Abe could see it in his body language, in the way he was leaning forward as if he wanted the bus to move faster. Finn was eager to go into action, to face whatever challenge and danger that might arise.

Abe just wanted this to be over.

Oh, God, how could Finn do it? How could any of the Nighthawks do this? Abe felt his stomach contract with panic.

Finn squeezed his leg. "Deep breaths, Abe," he said quietly. "You will be fine."

"Yes," Abe said. "Of course. It isn't complicated. Up the steps, past the statue, sixth column on the right and drop the pack."

"Good. And then?"

"And then I keep going."

"Where?"

"Around the corner and over to Twenty-Third Street where I hail a cab that Rafe will be driving."

"There. You see? Piece of cake," Finn said.

"If it's such a piece of cake, then why do I need this bullet proof vest under my shirt?"

Finn gave his knees a light pat. "It's just a precaution, Abe. We are not anticipating trouble, but we want you to be as safe as possible."

Abe reached for Finn's hand before he could withdraw it. He needed this physical contact with Finn. He had been prepared for the communication and tracking device but when Finn had produced the Kevlar vest, everything had suddenly become far too real.

It was Sunday morning. For him it should have been like a slower version of a Saturday morning. It should have started with a second cup of coffee, a leisurely perusal of the paper and then a trip to church instead of the library and a visit to his parents later or maybe a quick trip to Martha's to take his nephews to a movie or...

"Abe?"

Abe nodded quickly.

Finn curled their joined hands against his chest. "You won't be alone, Abe. I'm not going to be more than fifty feet away from you from the time we leave this bus. You might not see me, but I'm there."

"Yes, I know."

"The team is going to be watching everything. At the first hint that you could be at risk, we are aborting the mission."

"No!" Abe turned his hand over and grasped Finn's wrist. "No, you can't. This is Matthew's last chance. If they don't get the ransom this time, they might not let him go."

Finn dipped his head closer to Abe's and looked at him carefully. "We went through this at the briefing, Abe."

"I remember."

Finn continued to study his face. "Even Ibru understands."

Abe nodded. He hoped Finn would assume it meant compliance. It didn't. No matter what happened, he was going to deliver the money to the spot Boko Haram had specified.

Matthew had been held by those terrorists for almost a week now. Children were resilient, but the longer this took the deeper the emotional scars would be. Not only for Matthew, but for the entire family.

Someone near the front of the bus pulled the signal cord. It began to slow. Abe felt his heart thud. He released Finn's wrist and clutched the straps of the green backpack with both hands.

"We're coming to the stop," Finn said.

"I can see that..." Abe bit his lip. Finn wasn't stating the obvious, he was reporting their progress.

The receiver in his ear clicked. "All right, Abe. We are patching you in to the team's frequency now." It was Commander Anson's voice. His words were low and clipped. "You are almost done."

Abe cleared his throat. "Okay. Uh, roger."

"You don't need to acknowledge transmission."

Finn had already told him that when they had gone over the mission plan yesterday, Abe realized. He felt his fingers cramp on the backpack and he flexed his hands.

"You've got fifteen minutes to get there, so you are right on schedule."

Abe glanced at his watch. It was exactly 9:45. He should be able to cover the distance in ten minutes easily. He moved to the edge of the seat, preparing to stand the moment the bus stopped moving.

"Hang on a minute, Abe." Finn said. "There's one more thing."

Abe looked at him. "What?"

"This." Finn caught his chin in his hand, leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss on his mouth.

For a moment Abe couldn't breathe. It wasn't anything like the other time Finn had kissed him. They weren't alone. There were other passengers near the front of the bus, and there was a team of Nighthawk commandos on the other end of the radio equipment. Some of the other passengers didn't notice the kiss, but two did, and one of them was looking at them like spawns of the devil.

And yet the sense of...connection with Finn was the same. He felt as if Finn was focused completely on his needs. And he needed this. He drank in Finn's strength and confidence. Even as his pulse soared, Abe felt his thought settle. He could do this.

So he leaned into Finn and kissed him back. A soft shift of his lips, a quick dip of his tongue and a silent message that was part thanks and part goodbye.

Because, his duty in the mission was almost over. Once Abe dropped the pack and walked to the taxi that would be waiting for him, he would probably never see Finn O'Brian again.

It shouldn't matter. He had known Finn for three days. And he didn't really know him – he had only given him glimpses of the man he was inside. Teasing, fascinating glimpses.

Finn lifted his head. His eyes were dark. He didn't smile. He looked at Abe for a breathless instant, then tightened his hold on Abe's chin and kissed him again.

This time it wasn't gentle. It was swift and hard, a bold possession that sent a shock wave all the way to Abe's heart. Then it was over. Finn dropped his hand and pulled back.

The bus rolled to a stop. The doors slipped open and without another word, Finn got to his feet and stepped aside so that Abe could move into the aisle.

Oh, God. What had just happened?

There was not time to think about it. No time for anything but playing out his role in this deadly game. Abe hitched one strap of the backpack over his shoulder and got off the bus.

"Heads up, people." It was Ghost's voice again. "Abe's on the way."

"I've got a visual," Sandra said. "Finn, hang back. You are following too closely."

The classic lines of the Lincoln Memorial rose on the far side of the Reflecting Pool. Abe fixed his gaze on the columned building and restrained himself from turning around to look for Finn. He couldn't do anything to give away the team's presence; otherwise they wouldn't be able to follow when Boko Haram retrieved the ransom.

"Any activity around the target zone?" Ghost asked.

"Just a few tourists." Jack's soft drawl was instantly identifiable. "A group of sightseers on a walking tour is heading in this direction. By the way, O'Brian, are you chewing bubble gum?"

"No." Finn said.

"Oh? I was sure I heard smacking noises a minute ago."

There were a few snickers.

Abe realized Jack had to be referring to that kiss. He was too nervous to be embarrassed. As always was the case, there were far more important issues going on than his relationship with Finn.

"Cut the chatter," Ghost ordered. "Abe, you can slow down. You have plenty of time."

Abe realized he was almost running. With an effort, he slowed his pace as he neared the bottom of the steps that led up to the monument. He had been here before, countless times. He usually enjoyed the sense of grandeur that emanated from the historic buildings that were situated around the Mall. It gave him a feeling of roots, of being part of something far greater than himself.

In a way that is what was happening now. He was swept up in something that made his own concerns insignificant. He reached the first step and started to climb.

"There's a male Caucasian standing beside Lincoln's right foot," Finn said. "Five-eight, 150 pounds, salt and pepper hair. Anyone else see him?"

"Wire rimmed glasses and tweed sport coat." Sandra said. "Is that the one?"

"Affirmative," Finn said. "He's watching Abe."

"Who's on him?" Ghost asked. "He could be a MEND lookout."

"Got him," Jack said.

Abe kept his gaze on the steps and concentrated on breathing. Oh, God. He didn't want to look up. He just had to get to the top of these stairs and then walk to the sixth column on his right...

"Two vans just pulled up at the curb." It was Wildman's voice. "Three occupants visible in the first, at least three in the second."

"Captain Fox, can you get line of sight for the mike?" Ghost asked.

"Adjusting my position now, sir,"

"Are the chase vehicles in place?"

More voices responded. Abe kept climbing. He knew all these soldiers. He knew the plan, too. They had gone over it yesterday until everyone could repeat it by memory. He would do his part, and then the Nighthawks would do theirs. He was supposed to be long gone before the chances of a confrontation arose.

But what if the terrorists didn't want to wait for the money to be dropped this time? What if they were coming for him?

"Two men exited the first van," Wildman said. "One man got out of the second. They are heading toward the memorial."

"Male in tweed jacket is starting to move," Finn said. "Coming this way."

"Don't approach unless he threatens Abe," Ghost ordered.

"I don't want to risk it," Finn said. "I say we abort."

"Negative. Play this out."

"Commander..."

"You have your orders, Braveheart."

Abe stumbled on the next step. The pack on his shoulder wobbled. He swallowed a sob and tightened his grip.

"Abe?"

He didn't acknowledge the voice. He waited for whoever it was to state their instructions.

"Abe?"

It took Abe a minute to realize that the voice wasn't coming through his ear piece. He took a deep breath and turned around.

A man was coming down the steps toward him. He wore glasses and a dull brown coat. This had to be the man Finn and Jack had been watching; the Boko Haram lookout seemed oddly familiar.

Abe staggered to a stop as recognition washed over him. "Paul?"

"Abe, it is you." Paul Hedgeworth came to a stop in front of him, pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled shyly. "What an unexpected pleasure. I'm glad to see you recovered from your bout of the flu."

Oh, God. His brain scrambled to switch tracks. Paul Hedgeworth. He had asked him to dinner. He had told him the he would be spending the weekend in bed. Now what? Oh, God. "What are you doing here, Paul?"

"Don't you remember? I told you Bradley and I were doing a walking tour this morning, since he was so enthusiastic after your trip to the museum." He glanced around. "He should be here somewhere...Oh, good. There he is. Bradley!"

Ghost's voice came over the radio. It was so low it was close to a growl. "Hold your positions, people. He appears to be a civilian."

"I've got the parabolic mike on the men from the vans, Commander," Sandra said. "They are speaking Hausa. They are talking about the money. I'd say they are not here to sightsee."

"Chase team, do you have your targets?" Ghost asked.

More voices responded, reporting positions. Abe felt his head start to spin.

"Mr. Locke! Hi, Mr. Locke!"

Abe pivoted to see Bradley Hedgeworth waving as he skipped along a step toward him. Abe looked at Paul. He was smiling and saying something about lunch.

Abe wanted to scream. It should have been so simple, but it was all falling apart. How long had he been standing here? How much time was left? He had to get away from them. Or he had to get them away from the money. He had a bullet proof vest, but Paul only had a tweed jacket and a bull cap. If those Nigerians were anything like the men who had broken into his apartment, they wouldn't care who got in the way. Instead of saving a child, he must put another one in danger.

Before he could move forward, Bradley skipped down the steps and stopped in front of him. He grinned. "Mr. Locke! Did you know there are thirty-six columns on the memorial? That's the number of states there were in the Union when President Lincoln was killed."

"That's right, Bradley." He put his free hand on Brad's shoulder to hold him in place as he started to step around him. "Excuse me," he said. "I'm sorry but I don't have time to chat."

Paul brushed his fingers over the back of Abe's hand where he touched Bradley. "Can I call you tonight, Abe?"

The scream was rising in his throat now. He pursed his lips together and made a non-committal sound.

There was a blur of movement at the edge of Abe's vision. He jumped, prepared to run when he heard a familiar voice.

"Abe, sweetheart!" Finn was suddenly at his side, bending down to give him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry I'm so late. Were you giving up on me?"

Abe shook his head and exhaled hard. He wasn't sure he could speak.

Finn flashed a smile at Paul and Bradley as he slipped his arm around Abe's waist and smoothly propelled him up the stairs. "I hate to steal you away from your friends, darling, but we'd better go."

Abe took a few steps before he glanced behind him. Bradley's grin had faltered. Paul was staring after him with an expression of hurt disappointment. He wanted to explain, to apologize for lies and his rudeness, but he couldn't. He realized he'd never be able to. He had taken an oath of secrecy.

Jack moved down the steps to intercept Paul. He made a show of fumbling with a map. "Excuse me, sir," he said drawing Paul's attention away from Abe. "Could you show me how to get to Grant's Tomb from here?"

Abe hurried to keep up with Finn. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"You said you didn't have a boyfriend," Finn muttered.

"I don't. Paul isn't. I mean..."

"The Nigerians are holding at sixty yards from your position," Sandra said sharply. "They observed Abe's meeting with the civilians and they are arguing whether to proceed."

"Jack, keep running interference with Abe's friends," Ghost ordered. "Braveheart, deliver the pack and get out of here ASAP."

Finn's fingers dug into Abe's hip below the Kevlar vest. "Let's go, Abe."

"But I'm supposed to do this alone."

"Not anymore."

Abe didn't know how they reached the top of the steps. He barely had time to catch his breath before they were passing by the marble statue of the seated Abraham Lincoln and striding down the shadowed colonnade. He focused on the sixth column.

"Now," Finn said.

He swung the pack from his shoulder and dropped it at the base of the column as they passed by.

"They saw the drop," Sandra said. "They are still debating."

Abe's step faltered. He started to twist around to look back but Finn didn't slacken his pace.

"It's over, Abe," he said "Your part's done."

"But I want to make sure they get the money even if I have to put it in their hands," he said. "It's my fault this happened. I should have remembered that Paul might be around here. I should have..."

"Mr. Locke!"

At Bradley's loud cry, Abe jerked away from Finn and spun around.

"Mr. Locke!" The boy was waving and racing up the steps toward him. "Mr. Locke, you dropped your pack!"

The scene unfolded with the slow-motion horror of a nightmare. Paul stepped around Jack to follow his son. Bradley's ball cap fell off as he ran around Lincoln's statue. Abe held up his palms as he told him to stop. Other tourists who were scattered around the monument turned to observe the commotion.

"Bradley, no!" Abe cried.

The child skidded to a stop beside the sixth column and scooped up the green backpack that held the cost of another child's life. He brought it to Abe and smiled proudly.

Abe blinked back a surge of tears and took the pack from Bradley's hand. He was beyond screaming, beyond disbelief. He watched helplessly as Bradley picked up his hat and ran back to his father.

"The Nigerians are leaving," Sandra reported.

"All right," Ghost said. "Chase teams, move out."

Time snapped into its headlong rush forward. Abe hugged the pack to his chest. "No. Please. This can't be happening. Give me another chance."

Finn put his arm around his shoulder. "Come on, Abe. Let's go."

His lungs heaved with a sob. "No. let me try again. Please!"

Finn pressed a kiss to the top of his head and guided his away from the building. "Wildman, are you in position?"

"I'm at the curb with the meter running, O'Brian."

"We are heading your way," Finn said. "Ghost, I think it would be best if you took Abe off the air now."

"It's done, Sergeant."

The voice in Abe's earpiece suddenly stopped. He rubbed his forehead and glanced at his watch, but he couldn't see the numbers through his tears