Battle Wounds (Code Red Original Fiction)
Feb. 18th, 2018 01:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Battle Wounds
Fandom: Code Red original fiction
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,356
Summary: Bryan and Caleb drag in a suspicious person and need Ali to translate for them. Their prisoner is not who she expects it to be.
Author’s Note: This is set long before Ali meets Blake. One day, I’ll rewrite this series and make it readable. :D
“Lieutenant?”
Allyson looked up from the memo she’d been reading and frowned at the soldier standing in her doorway. She’d read the note six times and it still didn’t make any sense and this interruption wasn’t helping her any. Sighing, she made a mental note to have to have a word with Caleb later. His grammar, for an officer, was atrocious. “Yes?”
“General Stone wants to see you,” her visitor said. The soldier gave a quick look over his shoulder before finishing. “He’s in the brig.”
She tamped down a moment of panic, realizing that, if he was looking to toss her in a holding cell, he would have come himself. Never mind the fact he would have brought at least six others with him. The general knew all too well that she did not go quietly when she didn’t want to. “He’s in the brig? Waiting for me?”
“Yes ma’am,” he said, dipping his head in deference.
“Well alrighty then,” she said, rolling her chair backward and standing. “He didn’t say why he wanted to speak with him, did he?” The soldier shook his head and she fought back a sigh. “Of course not. As you were, O’Donnell. I can find my own way.”
“Indeed, ma’am,” he said, saluting and striding off to whatever duty needed attending.
As she moved down the hallway leading from her office to where the general was waiting for her, Allyson shot off a group text to her brother, Albert, and his partner in crime, David.
Stone wants to see me. In the brig. What did you two assholes do that I need to know about?
Albie and Dave were two of her very favorite people, but they had a tendency to be giant children when left unattended. Actual children were better behaved than these two idiots. But she couldn’t help it – she loved them both anyway.
Nada, sis, Albert texted back. Maybe he wants to get you alone. Wink wink.
“God, that’s gross,” she muttered before texting exactly that in response.
I’m behavin’ Ali, swear, Dave added a moment later.
Okay, she texted. I’m holding you both to that.
Tucking her phone into her pocket, Allyson entered the criminal holding area. Scanning the area, she spotted Stone standing by one of the cells, speaking with Caleb Lockhart, the general’s second in command. “You were looking for me, General?”
“Yes,” he said, stepping away from Caleb and focusing on her. “Lockhart and Tracey apprehended a suspicious person on their mission.”
“Okay?” She was confused because that was their job, all of their jobs, honestly. Put the bad guys away, bring in the sketchy ones and go from there. “And I’m here why?”
“He refuses to speak English,” Lockhart spat. “I know the bastard speaks it though. I heard him.”
She managed to not roll her eyes at her commanding officer. Lockhart didn’t like that much, she knew. “Again, why am I here?” There were a million more important things she could be doing right now.
“Because you’re our linguist, last I checked,” Bryan Tracy commented, appearing from an empty cell.
“What the hell were you doing in there,” she snorted. “Testing out the bed on the off chance you wind up in there?”
Tracey frowned and shook his head. “I was trying to see if I could catch him speaking English when he thought no one was looking.”
Allyson closed her eyes and took three long, deep breaths. “He’s in there alone, why would he be talking at all? I really do not understand how you three got to be the heads of this operation some days.”
“That’s enough,” Stone growled. “You’re fluent in several languages, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “I’m fluent in English, Spanish, French, Irish, and Italian, to name a few, with a passing vocabulary and understanding in most Eastern European languages as well as Arabic. What is our suspect speaking?”
The three officers looked at each other. Tracey finally spoke. “That’s the thing – we don’t know. It sounds like Spanish, but it also kind of sounds like Italian.”
He shrugged and she figured out the rest – that he only had the most basic idea of what either language sounded like because they’d dated for a short period of time. When she got angry or frustrated – and, if she were honest, drunk – then she tended to speak in her own weird version of Spanglish, a multi-lingual mishmash of every language she knew. One of these days, she was going to get pissed enough to start speaking Klingon and freak them all out. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at that thought.
“Something amusing you, Lieutenant?”
Clearing her throat, she shook her head. “No, sir.” Glancing towards the holding cell, she frowned. “You want me to go in and see if I can get anything out of him?”
“That was the plan.”
They stripped her of anything that could be taken and used against her – weapons, pens, nail file, anything sharp and/or pointy went into a pile on a nearby desk. Thankfully, she was more nerdy than girly so all that was confiscated were a pen, two colored pencils, and her eraser. Oh, and her cell phone. That was definitely a no go. She stood in front of the cell while she waited for Tracey to unlock the door. Hearing the metallic clang and thunk, she pushed the door open and stopped, dead in her tracks.
“Olá, pequeno pássaro. Faz muito tempo.”
She blinked, trying to reconcile his image before her. “What are you doing here,” she asked in his native Portuguese. “Why did they think you were a suspicious person?”
Honestly, she didn’t need him to answer that second part due to the fact he was a suspicious person. An arms dealer, a ruffian, her dead ex-husband’s best friend. When she’d been younger, he’d been her self-appointed protector. Hell, he still watched out for her in his own way. Paulo Castelli wasn’t exactly a good person, but he’d always been kind to her. And she’d loved him for it.
“I am sorry, little bird,” he replied. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, it seems.” He shrugged.
“Paulo…”
He held up a hand. “Don’t. I’m fine.”
One corner of her mouth quirked up. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Tormenting them by not speaking English?”
“Maybe.”
His handsome face broke into a wide grin, the smile that she’d fallen in love with so many years ago. He looked tired, worn down by the life he’d chosen to live. There was a slowness to his movements, a dullness to his eyes, that concerned her.
“Are you okay?”
He shook his head. “When they caught me,” his eyes drifted towards the door of his holding cell and she knew he was meaning Lockhart and Tracey, “they threw me to the ground and injected me with something. A drug, I’m sure, one to keep me docile.”
There was no doubt he was right. Lockhart and Tracey might be her superiors, but they were the candiest asses she’d ever met. Reaching out, she brushed dark hair out of his eyes. “Can I get you something to eat?” He shook his head, but she’d already stood, moving towards the exit, giving the door two, sharp raps.
“You want out,” Stone’s voice came over the intercom.
“Not yet,” she replied. “Our prisoner needs food. Your two underlings injected him with a sedative to keep him pliable during transport.”
“So what,” Tracey shot back.
“You remember what this shit does to you on an empty stomach, right Bryan?” It made him violently ill, but he’d never admit that to anyone. “All I’m saying is, if he pukes, I’m not cleaning it up.”
Silence.
“Did you figure out what language he was speaking,” Stone asked.
“Portuguese,” she replied.
“Who the fuck speaks Portuguese,” Lockhart snorted.
“I don’t know,” Allyson spat back. “The Portuguese?” She looked at Paulo and felt a tug at her heart. “The Brazilians, too.”
“You can understand him then?” Stone again.
“Yes, General.”
“Getting any information out of him,” Lockhart interjected.
“Not while he feels queasy, I’m not. Can I please get some food?”
The intercom shut off but she could hear the three men squabbling through the thick doors all the same. Paulo caught her eye and shook his head, a slight smile on his lips. He’d had very few interactions with the officers and even he knew how ridiculous they were.
“Fine,” Stone’s voice answered after too long of a time. “I’ll have some soup sent down.”
“Soup?”
“No knives, no forks,” Lockhart reminded her.
“Okay, okay,” she said. “Just hurry, okay? And give him some damn bread, too.”
Paulo waited until the intercom clicked off again and laughed. “They do know I could kill you with a spoon if I wanted to, right?”
“I have no idea what they know,” she said. “Sometimes, I feel like it isn’t very much.”
The door to the cell opened sometime later and a private brought a tray into the cell. He sat it on the tray built into one wall and left. Paulo glanced at the bowl and made a face.
“Mmm,” she said. “It smells like Evan’s gumbo.”
“Is it good,” he asked, spoon hovering over the bowl.
“It’s delicious,” she said. “But be careful – he’s a Louisiana native and doesn’t always pull back on the spices. Definitely not for the faint of heart.”
Paulo chuckled and dug in. “This is different, but it’s excellent.”
“Damn good food for a military base,” she agreed. “He always brings me a bowl when I’m down or not feeling well. Even if it’s not on the daily menu.”
He nodded and continued to shovel the gumbo into his mouth.
“I have to know what you were doing in that area, Paulie,” she said when he was halfway through the bowl.
He stalled long enough to finish the gumbo and put the bowl aside. Picking up the side of cornbread that had come with it, he tore off a corner and shoved it into his mouth. She watched him chewing, knowing that there was a lot going on behind those chocolate colored eyes.
“Paulo?”
He held up a hand and she sat, quiet.
“For once, I was doing no wrong,” he said. “I was coming out of a house occupied by a friend.” Catching her eye, he held it so that she understood. “A man that had been friends with Timothé many years ago.”
An ache clutched her heart. She’d loved Thé with all her heard, even despite his treachery and deceit. But she knew Paulo wasn’t trying to mislead her with this information. No one would ever believe her, but she knew he was being honest. She had to try, however. “I might be able to get you out of here.”
One dark, thick eyebrow quirked upwards. “How?”
“Talk to my superiors and be nice to them,” she added when he frowned at her. “Caleb heard you speaking English and your refusal is the biggest part of why they’re not letting you go.”
Paulo scratched at the dusky stubble dotting his cheek. “And you think they will free me if I do this?”
“I don’t know for certain but I will do my best to convince them that you’re not a threat.”
That sweet smile turned feral. “Are you sure about that, little bird?”
No, she knew better than to think he was anything but dangerous.
By the time the interrogation had ended, the sedative had worked its way out of Paulo’s system enough that he could stand on his own two feet again. Stone, Lockhart, and Tracey had grilled him for nearly two hours, but Paulo never wavered. He was visiting an old friend. He’d meant no harm. Bad timing, that was all. Allyson wasn’t one hundred percent positive she believed him, but he hadn’t been the target Tracy and Lockhart had gone after either. It was a sticky situation.
“Adeus pássaro pequeno,” he said as they let him out of the cell, preparing to escort him out of the building. “Até a próxima vez...”.
Until next time, she thought, a chill running down her spine. Half praying there wouldn’t be a next time, she waved goodbye.
“What did he say to you,” Bryan Tracey asked.
Allyson waved a hand in the direction of her departing friend. “Nothing, just goodbye.”
“That was a lot of words for ‘goodbye’, Ali.”
“Wanna know what it sounds like in Irish, Bryan?” She grinned at him and held out her hand. “It’s much longer than the Portuguese.”
“No,” he said, stopping her before she could get started. “I think I’ll pass this time.”
She couldn’t hide her smile at his discomfort. The man needed to get over his insecurities. Anytime anyone said something he didn’t understand, he immediately thought they were talking about him. He wasn’t always that far off base, but she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that. “Orice ai spune,” she replied.
“God damn it,” he shouted. “Stop that!”
“I’m sorry,” she snorted, unable to keep her amusement under wraps any longer.
“What did you say to him,” Stone asked, watching Tracey storm off.
“It’s not so much what I said,” she explained. “But more of how I said it.”
Stone grinned. “You’d think he’d be used to you speaking in tongues by now.”
“You’d think,” she agreed.
“Good work with this guy,” he said, patting her on the shoulder. “Now, get back to whatever it was you were doing.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, leaving out the fact that she had been about to take a red pen to his second in command’s memo. “Back to work for me.”
Stone walked off, leaving her standing alone. She gave the empty cell one last glance and let the sadness wash over her. Paulo was the only connection she had to her old life and, good or bad, they were inexorably tied together forever. One of these days, she needed to find herself a new boyfriend. Someone, anyone to get that Brazilian devil out of her system.
Someday.
Fandom: Code Red original fiction
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,356
Summary: Bryan and Caleb drag in a suspicious person and need Ali to translate for them. Their prisoner is not who she expects it to be.
Author’s Note: This is set long before Ali meets Blake. One day, I’ll rewrite this series and make it readable. :D
“Lieutenant?”
Allyson looked up from the memo she’d been reading and frowned at the soldier standing in her doorway. She’d read the note six times and it still didn’t make any sense and this interruption wasn’t helping her any. Sighing, she made a mental note to have to have a word with Caleb later. His grammar, for an officer, was atrocious. “Yes?”
“General Stone wants to see you,” her visitor said. The soldier gave a quick look over his shoulder before finishing. “He’s in the brig.”
She tamped down a moment of panic, realizing that, if he was looking to toss her in a holding cell, he would have come himself. Never mind the fact he would have brought at least six others with him. The general knew all too well that she did not go quietly when she didn’t want to. “He’s in the brig? Waiting for me?”
“Yes ma’am,” he said, dipping his head in deference.
“Well alrighty then,” she said, rolling her chair backward and standing. “He didn’t say why he wanted to speak with him, did he?” The soldier shook his head and she fought back a sigh. “Of course not. As you were, O’Donnell. I can find my own way.”
“Indeed, ma’am,” he said, saluting and striding off to whatever duty needed attending.
As she moved down the hallway leading from her office to where the general was waiting for her, Allyson shot off a group text to her brother, Albert, and his partner in crime, David.
Stone wants to see me. In the brig. What did you two assholes do that I need to know about?
Albie and Dave were two of her very favorite people, but they had a tendency to be giant children when left unattended. Actual children were better behaved than these two idiots. But she couldn’t help it – she loved them both anyway.
Nada, sis, Albert texted back. Maybe he wants to get you alone. Wink wink.
“God, that’s gross,” she muttered before texting exactly that in response.
I’m behavin’ Ali, swear, Dave added a moment later.
Okay, she texted. I’m holding you both to that.
Tucking her phone into her pocket, Allyson entered the criminal holding area. Scanning the area, she spotted Stone standing by one of the cells, speaking with Caleb Lockhart, the general’s second in command. “You were looking for me, General?”
“Yes,” he said, stepping away from Caleb and focusing on her. “Lockhart and Tracey apprehended a suspicious person on their mission.”
“Okay?” She was confused because that was their job, all of their jobs, honestly. Put the bad guys away, bring in the sketchy ones and go from there. “And I’m here why?”
“He refuses to speak English,” Lockhart spat. “I know the bastard speaks it though. I heard him.”
She managed to not roll her eyes at her commanding officer. Lockhart didn’t like that much, she knew. “Again, why am I here?” There were a million more important things she could be doing right now.
“Because you’re our linguist, last I checked,” Bryan Tracy commented, appearing from an empty cell.
“What the hell were you doing in there,” she snorted. “Testing out the bed on the off chance you wind up in there?”
Tracey frowned and shook his head. “I was trying to see if I could catch him speaking English when he thought no one was looking.”
Allyson closed her eyes and took three long, deep breaths. “He’s in there alone, why would he be talking at all? I really do not understand how you three got to be the heads of this operation some days.”
“That’s enough,” Stone growled. “You’re fluent in several languages, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “I’m fluent in English, Spanish, French, Irish, and Italian, to name a few, with a passing vocabulary and understanding in most Eastern European languages as well as Arabic. What is our suspect speaking?”
The three officers looked at each other. Tracey finally spoke. “That’s the thing – we don’t know. It sounds like Spanish, but it also kind of sounds like Italian.”
He shrugged and she figured out the rest – that he only had the most basic idea of what either language sounded like because they’d dated for a short period of time. When she got angry or frustrated – and, if she were honest, drunk – then she tended to speak in her own weird version of Spanglish, a multi-lingual mishmash of every language she knew. One of these days, she was going to get pissed enough to start speaking Klingon and freak them all out. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at that thought.
“Something amusing you, Lieutenant?”
Clearing her throat, she shook her head. “No, sir.” Glancing towards the holding cell, she frowned. “You want me to go in and see if I can get anything out of him?”
“That was the plan.”
They stripped her of anything that could be taken and used against her – weapons, pens, nail file, anything sharp and/or pointy went into a pile on a nearby desk. Thankfully, she was more nerdy than girly so all that was confiscated were a pen, two colored pencils, and her eraser. Oh, and her cell phone. That was definitely a no go. She stood in front of the cell while she waited for Tracey to unlock the door. Hearing the metallic clang and thunk, she pushed the door open and stopped, dead in her tracks.
“Olá, pequeno pássaro. Faz muito tempo.”
She blinked, trying to reconcile his image before her. “What are you doing here,” she asked in his native Portuguese. “Why did they think you were a suspicious person?”
Honestly, she didn’t need him to answer that second part due to the fact he was a suspicious person. An arms dealer, a ruffian, her dead ex-husband’s best friend. When she’d been younger, he’d been her self-appointed protector. Hell, he still watched out for her in his own way. Paulo Castelli wasn’t exactly a good person, but he’d always been kind to her. And she’d loved him for it.
“I am sorry, little bird,” he replied. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, it seems.” He shrugged.
“Paulo…”
He held up a hand. “Don’t. I’m fine.”
One corner of her mouth quirked up. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Tormenting them by not speaking English?”
“Maybe.”
His handsome face broke into a wide grin, the smile that she’d fallen in love with so many years ago. He looked tired, worn down by the life he’d chosen to live. There was a slowness to his movements, a dullness to his eyes, that concerned her.
“Are you okay?”
He shook his head. “When they caught me,” his eyes drifted towards the door of his holding cell and she knew he was meaning Lockhart and Tracey, “they threw me to the ground and injected me with something. A drug, I’m sure, one to keep me docile.”
There was no doubt he was right. Lockhart and Tracey might be her superiors, but they were the candiest asses she’d ever met. Reaching out, she brushed dark hair out of his eyes. “Can I get you something to eat?” He shook his head, but she’d already stood, moving towards the exit, giving the door two, sharp raps.
“You want out,” Stone’s voice came over the intercom.
“Not yet,” she replied. “Our prisoner needs food. Your two underlings injected him with a sedative to keep him pliable during transport.”
“So what,” Tracey shot back.
“You remember what this shit does to you on an empty stomach, right Bryan?” It made him violently ill, but he’d never admit that to anyone. “All I’m saying is, if he pukes, I’m not cleaning it up.”
Silence.
“Did you figure out what language he was speaking,” Stone asked.
“Portuguese,” she replied.
“Who the fuck speaks Portuguese,” Lockhart snorted.
“I don’t know,” Allyson spat back. “The Portuguese?” She looked at Paulo and felt a tug at her heart. “The Brazilians, too.”
“You can understand him then?” Stone again.
“Yes, General.”
“Getting any information out of him,” Lockhart interjected.
“Not while he feels queasy, I’m not. Can I please get some food?”
The intercom shut off but she could hear the three men squabbling through the thick doors all the same. Paulo caught her eye and shook his head, a slight smile on his lips. He’d had very few interactions with the officers and even he knew how ridiculous they were.
“Fine,” Stone’s voice answered after too long of a time. “I’ll have some soup sent down.”
“Soup?”
“No knives, no forks,” Lockhart reminded her.
“Okay, okay,” she said. “Just hurry, okay? And give him some damn bread, too.”
Paulo waited until the intercom clicked off again and laughed. “They do know I could kill you with a spoon if I wanted to, right?”
“I have no idea what they know,” she said. “Sometimes, I feel like it isn’t very much.”
The door to the cell opened sometime later and a private brought a tray into the cell. He sat it on the tray built into one wall and left. Paulo glanced at the bowl and made a face.
“Mmm,” she said. “It smells like Evan’s gumbo.”
“Is it good,” he asked, spoon hovering over the bowl.
“It’s delicious,” she said. “But be careful – he’s a Louisiana native and doesn’t always pull back on the spices. Definitely not for the faint of heart.”
Paulo chuckled and dug in. “This is different, but it’s excellent.”
“Damn good food for a military base,” she agreed. “He always brings me a bowl when I’m down or not feeling well. Even if it’s not on the daily menu.”
He nodded and continued to shovel the gumbo into his mouth.
“I have to know what you were doing in that area, Paulie,” she said when he was halfway through the bowl.
He stalled long enough to finish the gumbo and put the bowl aside. Picking up the side of cornbread that had come with it, he tore off a corner and shoved it into his mouth. She watched him chewing, knowing that there was a lot going on behind those chocolate colored eyes.
“Paulo?”
He held up a hand and she sat, quiet.
“For once, I was doing no wrong,” he said. “I was coming out of a house occupied by a friend.” Catching her eye, he held it so that she understood. “A man that had been friends with Timothé many years ago.”
An ache clutched her heart. She’d loved Thé with all her heard, even despite his treachery and deceit. But she knew Paulo wasn’t trying to mislead her with this information. No one would ever believe her, but she knew he was being honest. She had to try, however. “I might be able to get you out of here.”
One dark, thick eyebrow quirked upwards. “How?”
“Talk to my superiors and be nice to them,” she added when he frowned at her. “Caleb heard you speaking English and your refusal is the biggest part of why they’re not letting you go.”
Paulo scratched at the dusky stubble dotting his cheek. “And you think they will free me if I do this?”
“I don’t know for certain but I will do my best to convince them that you’re not a threat.”
That sweet smile turned feral. “Are you sure about that, little bird?”
No, she knew better than to think he was anything but dangerous.
By the time the interrogation had ended, the sedative had worked its way out of Paulo’s system enough that he could stand on his own two feet again. Stone, Lockhart, and Tracey had grilled him for nearly two hours, but Paulo never wavered. He was visiting an old friend. He’d meant no harm. Bad timing, that was all. Allyson wasn’t one hundred percent positive she believed him, but he hadn’t been the target Tracy and Lockhart had gone after either. It was a sticky situation.
“Adeus pássaro pequeno,” he said as they let him out of the cell, preparing to escort him out of the building. “Até a próxima vez...”.
Until next time, she thought, a chill running down her spine. Half praying there wouldn’t be a next time, she waved goodbye.
“What did he say to you,” Bryan Tracey asked.
Allyson waved a hand in the direction of her departing friend. “Nothing, just goodbye.”
“That was a lot of words for ‘goodbye’, Ali.”
“Wanna know what it sounds like in Irish, Bryan?” She grinned at him and held out her hand. “It’s much longer than the Portuguese.”
“No,” he said, stopping her before she could get started. “I think I’ll pass this time.”
She couldn’t hide her smile at his discomfort. The man needed to get over his insecurities. Anytime anyone said something he didn’t understand, he immediately thought they were talking about him. He wasn’t always that far off base, but she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that. “Orice ai spune,” she replied.
“God damn it,” he shouted. “Stop that!”
“I’m sorry,” she snorted, unable to keep her amusement under wraps any longer.
“What did you say to him,” Stone asked, watching Tracey storm off.
“It’s not so much what I said,” she explained. “But more of how I said it.”
Stone grinned. “You’d think he’d be used to you speaking in tongues by now.”
“You’d think,” she agreed.
“Good work with this guy,” he said, patting her on the shoulder. “Now, get back to whatever it was you were doing.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, leaving out the fact that she had been about to take a red pen to his second in command’s memo. “Back to work for me.”
Stone walked off, leaving her standing alone. She gave the empty cell one last glance and let the sadness wash over her. Paulo was the only connection she had to her old life and, good or bad, they were inexorably tied together forever. One of these days, she needed to find herself a new boyfriend. Someone, anyone to get that Brazilian devil out of her system.
Someday.
