Chapter Thirteen
War of the (Viking) roses …
One sennight later, Madrene was sitting on the solar carpet with Pretty Boy, eating a delicacy called popcorn, and watching repeats of Sex and the City on the magic tea-vee box. A snoring Sam had wrapped herself around Madrene’s shoulders like a mantle.
The tea-vee box was enthralling. She did not care what anyone said; there were actual people inside the box, acting out parts. Some of those plays were deliciously scandalous, like this one. She was learning soooo much.
She had given Luke—that was Slick’s real name—her ten jewels to sell, and it appeared that she would gain a huge amount of coins for her mission.
Cage, bless the rascal, had told her of Mercenary magazine, and read her notices of hired soldiers willing to go anywhere.
Geek worked endlessly when he was here, teaching her to read and write, as well as map out a path she might take back to Norstead.
She and Omar had become quite the cooking experts. She taught him some Norse dishes; he taught her about spicy Arab foods.
Despite all this—the tea-vee, the jewels, the hired warriors, her reading and writing, and the cooking—Madrene was miserable. For one whole sennight, Ian had not spoken to her. Of course, she had not spoken to him, either, but that was not relevant, in her opinion.
He should have attempted to speak with her about their mutual decision to halt their lovemaking. Not that she would change her mind. Nay, regaining Norstead had to be her priority. She could not let sex with Ian distract her. He would try to change her mind, she knew he would.
Oh, my gods and goddesses! Look at that. Samantha is naked—Samantha, the naked woman, not the cat—and so is the young man. And he is swiving her in front of one and all. Loudly. And so hard the bed is moving. She put a hand to her flushed cheek and looked at Cage. He just winked at her.
Of course, Ian chose that moment to walk in.
His eyes went wide as he took in her and Cage sitting on the floor next to each other with their backs against the sofa, shook his head at Sam snoring on her shoulders, blinked several times at the program on the tea-vee— Honest to Odin! I never knew two people could do THAT?—and returned his attention to the two of them. He was wearing his brown uniform, and he looked so handsome Madrene could have swooned. Dropping his leather case to the floor, he addressed Cage. “This is how you guard her? You’re here to work, not play.”
At the sound of Ian’s voice, Sam raised her head, saw it was only her “father” and went back to sleep.
Despite Ian’s vile tone, Cage responded brightly, “Hey, I’ve got my AK-47 on the end table and a pistol in my pocket. There are motion detectors on every door and window. Sly and JAM are outside. We’ve got everything covered, man.”
Ian shook his head at Cage and said, “Come into the kitchen. I want to update you on the latest happenings.”
He walked away from them then. Without even greeting Madrene at all. The boorish oaf!
“Guess you should come, too,” Cage said to her.
She eased Sam off her shoulders and gave her a little kiss before standing. Ian hadn’t specifically invited her, but if his news involved her, she had every right to be present.
She hoped he didn’t yell at her.
She was very worried about that vein.
The two men poured themselves goblets of that bitter brew, cough-he, and she got herself a Pepsi. Ian sat at one end of the table, she at the other, and Cage in between.
Ian didn’t even acknowledge she was there.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. There was a tic going in his right jaw, and the vein emerged, too. He was aware of her, for a certainty. That gave her a strange sort of satisfaction.
She was aware of him, too. Excessively aware. She never should have made love with him. It made it that much harder to resist him now. Not that he was pursuing her.
At odd times, she noticed a sadness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“Earth to Maddie. Earth to Maddie,” Cage said.
She was jolted back to the present. “What?”
“Ian asked me if you were staying away from windows and doorways.”
“Tell him yes. Tell him that message has been drilled into me. Tell him he is being childish and immature and a boor.”
“Tell her she’s a liar if she says I was boring with her.”
“Tell the dolt I said boor … a rough clod … not boring.”
Cage’s head kept swinging back and forth between the two of them. He was grinning.
“Tell her I will be glad when this mission is over.”
Madrene’s eyes shot to Ian. Does he really mean that? Will he be happy when I am gone? I do not care. I should not care. Why does it hurt so much? “Tell him I will be out of here the instant the terrorists are caught.”
Ian looked directly at her, too. He seemed hurt, as well, but only for an instant. Then he reverted to his usual crude self. “Tell her that her nipples are showing.”
Cage made a choking sound.
“Tell him that his manpart is not all that impressive.”
“Enough already!” Ian stood, almost knocking all of his documents to the floor. “While this is great entertainment, we have business to take care of here.”
“Agreed,” Cage said.
They both looked at Maddie.
She nodded her agreement, reluctantly. Madrene had never been one to stop in the middle of an argument, and it rankled her to do so now.
“The tangos are in town,” Ian announced as he sat back down.
Everyone grew silent at that news. It had been expected, of course. But now the dangerous part of the mission would start.
“How many?” Cage asked.
“Not sure. At least a dozen. Our informant tells us they’re alternately skeptical that Maddie knows anything and outraged that a mere woman might reveal their secrets.”
“How do they know I am here?” she asked.
For once, Ian talked to her directly. “That dirtbag Dan Sullivan took a picture of us together at our so-called wedding in Baghdad. Putting two and two together, they figured the U.S. government and its Navy have you under lock and SEAL.”
“Can I see the picture?” From Ian’s and Cage’s startled looks, she could tell her question was odd, considering the more important information he’d relayed. She didn’t care what they thought. Lifting her chin, she stared them both down.
“What’s the plan?” Cage asked.
“First of all, more guards. I need to go into the base every day, to give the impression of normality. Once we get some intel on where they are and put some shadows on them … then we may or may not take her outside to draw them out for a showdown.”
“Why can’t we do it right away, and get this over with?”
Ian stiffened as if she’d just slapped him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m as anxious to have you out of here as you are to leave.”
Madrene felt as if a fist had just clenched her heart. That wasn’t at all what she’d meant. But what did she say? “The instant this is over, I will be gone.”
“Good riddance.”
They glared at each other. Ian looked as angry as she felt.
“Let me ask you a question,” she said.
“Be my guest.”
“I have asked you and I ask you again: When this is over, would you lead a small army to my homeland to recapture Norstead?”
“You are crazy!”
“And you wonder why I will not lie with you anymore.”
“Who asked you to?”
She growled.
He growled.
Cage stood and laughed as he said, “You two are so suited it’s eerie.”
Gotcha! …
It was two a.m., and Ian was still unable to fall asleep.
He sprawled out on his back, his favorite position. Didn’t work. Tried one side, then the other. Nada. Even face down proved fruitless.
Maybe he should let Sam sleep in the bed again, like she used to, instead of being banished to the living-room sofa. Maybe he slept better before because he’d been lulled by the rhythm of her cat breathing.
Nah!
He attributed his insomnia to stress over this mission. He’d never been so personally involved in an assignment before. Or it could be the infuriating, tempting woman who lay on the other side of the bed, about a mile away.
It was pitch-black in the room, but he could picture her over there. The image of her naked body was imprinted on his brain forever. Wonder if she’s sleeping nude, like she did that first night. I like to think so. No, I don’t. Who am I kidding? Shit! Disgusted with himself, and his lack of sleep, he rolled over one more time.
“Ian,” she said softly.
He froze. “What?” he barked. He hadn’t meant to be so gruff; it just came out that way.
“I hear you moving. What are you doing over there?”
Great! Now we’re going to chit-chat. Next she’ll ask me what I’m thinking. “Guess.”
She made a small sound of surprise. “Pleasuring yourself?”
Oh, my God! I didn’t mean that. “Yeah.” That ought to shut her up.
There was a loud silence before Maddie said, “Me, too.”
This I gotta see. Ian sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.
She was lying on her side facing him, both hands folded under her cheek, prayer style. And there was a big ol’ smirk on her face.
Ian got out of bed and stomped into the bathroom. He was going to take a long, cold shower.
Beware of women with plans …
Madrene had an unexpected visitor the next day.
There were not supposed to be any visitors, especially ones who had to knock before coming in. Cage was her inside guard today, and he immediately took out his piss-toll and checked it over. Then, pistol in hand, he picked up an ear piece which somehow connected him to the outside seals. After a short conversation, he put the gun down and told her, “It’s okay.”
Cage opened the door and said, “Admiral, we didn’t expect you. Ian’s not here.”
“I know he’s not here. I came to see his wife.”
“No shit? I mean, absolutely, Admiral, sir.”
Me? Why me? Madrene looked at the dignified gentleman who walked into the living room where they were sitting. He was dressed all in white, with short-clipped gray hair. There were many colored brooches on his chest and shoulders. She did not need to be told he must be an important military man.
Cage led the man in and said, “Admiral, this is Maddie Olgadottir … I mean, Maddie MacLean … oh, hell, I don’t know what I mean.”
Turning to her, his face beet red, Cage said, “Maddie, this is Admiral Thomas MacLean. Ian’s father.”
She was shocked.
He reached out a hand to shake hers. It was the custom in this country to greet each other by shaking hands.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” the man said to her.
Once they were all sitting in the living room, Cage acting as if Odin himself had come to visit, the man gave her an all-over scrutiny. And smiled. “You’ll do.”
“For what?”
“Ian’s wife.”
“I’m not really Ian’s wife.”
“Oh?”
“It’s just a temporary arrangement, as you well know,” Madrene snapped. All this false niceness was wearing thin with her. “And frankly, I am glad you have come to visit. There are a few things I would like to say to you. How dare you treat Ian the way you do?”
“I beg your pardon.”
“You should beg Ian’s pardon.”
Ian’s father looked as if he was either choking on his tongue or choking back laughter.
“A father should love his children above all else.”
“I do.”
“Hah! Not according to Ian. Nothing he does is good enough for you. Push, push, push, that is what you do. Well, someday you may push so hard you lose a son. You may have already.”
“You are a brassy miss.”
“Yea, I am, and do not forget it. Do not look down your nose at me. I carry the blood of Norse kings in my body.”
“Okay, young lady, why don’t you tell me what you think I have done.”
Madrene did just that. It was a long and nagging lecture, even for her. When she stopped to take a breath, she noticed that both the admiral and Cage were gaping at her. Her lectures often had that effect on people … mostly men. “Well, it’s the truth,” she concluded.
Ian’s father threw his head back then, slapped his knees and burst out laughing. So hard that tears filled his eyes, and he had to wipe them with a spotless linen he pulled from his pocket. “You’ll do, missy.”
Now that she’d spoken her mind, she asked, “Would you care for a beverage?”
“Actually, yes. Any beer in the house?”
“There is always mead here. Seals suck it up like air.”
The old man grinned at her. Then he stood and held out his hand to pull her up. When he did, he tugged her into a hard hug and said, “Yes, you will do.”
Madrene looked at Cage over the admiral’s shoulder, pleading for help. He just grinned and said, “I’ll go get the … mead.”
When did his life become such a mess? …
Ian was in the SEAL headquarters catching up on some paperwork. His cell phone rang. He looked at the caller i.d. and groaned.
“Hi,” Cage said in sort of a whisper.
“Hi yourself. Do not dare ask me if I know what my wife is doing now.”
There was a long silence.
“Are you there?”
“Yep. I’m in the head. Don’t wanna be overheard.” He was still talking in a whisper.
Ian exhaled with a loud whoosh. “I give in. What is my wife doing now?”
“Well, it’s not so much what she’s doing. It’s the visitor who came to see her.”
“ What? ” Ian shouted into the phone.
“Really, cher , you’ve gotta work on your phone personality. My eardrums are developing a ring.”
“Tell … me …” he gritted out.
“Your father came to visit Maddie.”
This was the absolute last thing Ian expected to hear. He was angry with Maddie, but, God, his father would make mincemeat of her. “Why did he come?”
“Not sure. Guess he wanted to look over your better half.”
Ian snorted his opinion.
“Man, you woulda been proud of her. She laid into your dad like some kinda warrior princess. She was a pit bull for you.”
For me? Why would she defend me? Interfering witch! “And what did my father do?”
“He hugged her.”
Hugged her? I think I will go slit my wrists. “Where is he … she … now?”
“They’re sharing a mead in the kitchen and exchanging family secrets. I didn’t know you peed the bed till you were three. Ha, ha, ha. What’s that noise I hear?”
“My head banging on the desk.”
Wacky or woo-woo? …
Ian was ambushed three days later as he left the mess hall. Geek, Omar and Pretty Boy stood in his path.
“We need to talk to you about Maddie. She—” Geek started to say.
“The last thing we need to talk about is Maddie,” Ian interrupted. He put up both hands to halt them. “Unless she has flown the coop again , unless her life is in danger, unless your lives are in danger from her , I don’t want to hear it.”
“You should hear this,” Omar said.
“No. My nerves are strung so tight, they could slinky me down the steps of the Washington Monument.”
“Frustration will do that to you every time,” Pretty Boy opined.
“Bite me!” Ian said succinctly. “Get back to work. All of you.”
The three of them just looked at him, said “Okay” as one, and turned to walk away into the mess hall.
“Shit!” They were actually going to leave without telling him the latest on Maddie. Forget about the fact he’d told them he didn’t want to know. They should have told him anyway. With a sigh of resignation, he called, “Wait!”
The three stooges turned and smiled at him, as if they’d known he would be curious. Soon they were sitting down to coffee.
Geek started first. “There is something really strange about Maddie.”
Ian raised his eyebrows. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Seriously, Mac, it’s not just the way she talks,” Omar said. “And believe me, some of the random words in her speech are more like the tenth or eleventh century than today. In fact, I’ve heard Icelanders speak the way she does.”
“Iceland!” he said with disgust.
“Yep. And the Icelandic language is similar to Old Norse.”
“Norse! Oh, hell! This reminds me of Magnusson and all the Viking crap he used to spout.” Max was Torolf Magnusson’s nickname. “Where is Max these days?” He directed that last question to Cage, who was usually Max’s team partner. Max had been the biggest pain in Ian’s butt three years ago when Ian had been his instructor in BUD/S training.
“Still in Afghanistan working with a combined special forces team trying to teach fighting skills to guys who ride camels.” Cage grinned. “He should be back next week or the week after.”
Actually, Ian knew Max would be back by then. His sister was married to Max’s brother, Ragnor. In fact, there was a big shindig being planned at Blue Dragon Vineyard in two weeks to celebrate some event related to grapes.
“There’s more,” Geek said, his voice too serious for Ian’s comfort. “Hordaland … that country where Maddie says Norstead is … well, I couldn’t find Norstead anywhere, but Hordaland was a region of southwest Norway about a thousand or so years ago. It wasn’t called Norway then. There was a king called Olaf … you know, the guy she says was her grandfather’s brother. Birka was a market town in Sweden, and Hedeby was a market town in Germany, though they weren’t called Sweden or Germany then.” Geek paused, not because he was done with his spiel, but because he wanted Ian’s reaction. Apparently, he’d already discussed his discoveries with Omar and Pretty Boy.
Ian was dumbfounded.
His silence gave Pretty Boy an opportunity to offer his input. “On an everyday level, she’s clueless. She honest-to-God never heard of a TV, a blender, a camera, the telephone, birth control, breast implants, things everyone knows.”
Ian homed in on one thing. “Why would you be discussing birth control with my … with Maddie?”
Pretty Boy shrugged. “She asked. Guess you must have shown her a condom. Right?” The dunce grinned.
Ian refused to answer. “And breast implants? Don’t try to tell me she asked about that?”
“Nope. I asked her.”
“What?” he yelled.
“Come on, Mac. Even you wondered in the beginning.”
“What did she say?” Cage inquired. Geek seemed even more interested.
“Get a life!” Ian advised them all before Pretty Boy could respond. After glaring at each of them in turn, he asked, “So what do you think all this means?”
“I think she’s a time-traveler,” Geek said.
Ian’s jaw dropped.
“Nah! I think she might have a slight mental problem,” Omar said. “Maybe even a split personality.”
Ian’s eyes widened.
“Uh-uh!” Pretty Boy said. “Gotta be reincarnation.”
They all looked at Ian to see what he thought.
“I think you all have lost your freakin’ minds,” he said. “And I think I need to get knee-walking drunk.”
As he walked away, he heard Cage say to the others, “Personally, I think he needs to get laid … again.”
Yep!
Beware of pre-menstrual women …
Madrene had come to several conclusions.
One, time was of the essence. Soon the seals’ mission here would be completed, and she would embark on her own mission. She could not do it alone, even if she hired mercenaries. She needed someone from this country to help her find her way back to hers. ’Twas a sorry fact.
Two, if she might die any day now, or if she didn’t die and had to go home alone, she was bloody hell going to enjoy herself in the meantime. That meant sex. With the troll. Lots of it.
Three, as unpalatable as it might be, she would use sex to gain her noble goal.
Oh, she knew she was changing her mind in mid-stream. Technically, she was the one who had called off the bedsport. But her body ached for the man, despite all her good resolutions. It was probably because it was several days before her monthly flux, and she was always different at that time … some might even say difficult. Or mayhap it was because the bedsport had been so good with him. Or it might be all that Sex and the City watching that gave her ideas.
Whatever the reason, she was now on a mission. Seduce the man to her way of thinking.
No problem!
On the other hand, there might be a small problem. She had no idea how to go about seducing a man. Perhaps she needed help. She wished there were a woman she could ask. But there was not. Should she ask Cage for advice? Or Pretty Boy? Or Slick? She was almost afraid of what he would say; he was such a dark and secretive man. But Omar probably knew unusual stuff since he came from both an Arab and Indian background. And Geek, and JAM, and Sly.
Bloody hell! I guess I’ll have to ask them all.
You want to do WHAT? …
Slick was the first seal that Madrene was able to corner about her particular problem.
Slick rarely came into the house. Usually he was one of the outside guards, or stayed back at the base. The man made her a little uncomfortable, he was so quiet, and he had these dark, piercing eyes. When he looked at you, well, you felt as if he saw too much.
But Madrene had never been one to cower when she had something to say. “What can I do to seduce Ian?” she asked as Slick was pouring himself a cup of coffee.
She knew he heard her because he stopped in the middle of pouring. But he didn’t say anything. At first. Then he turned, very slowly, and looked at her. A long time. Then he said, “Breathe.”
Hah! A lot of good that advice was. Breathe and the troll would be seduced. I … do … not … think … so. She walked huffily out of the room.
Next day, she asked Geek. The poor boy just blushed and stammered before saying, “Can’t you just ask him to … uh, make love with you?”
“Of course not. I want him to think he is the one doing the seducing.”
“Oh, I see,” Geek said. But he clearly didn’t see.
Next, Sly told her to flash him. She hesitated to ask him what he meant because of the grin on his face, but she did. I should have known better. Then he demonstrated by putting both fists at the center of his tea- shert and jerking his arms outward.
What? He expects me to expose my breasts. “There is no subtlety in that.”
“Believe me, men don’t need subtlety.”
JAM was not subtle, either. He said, “A blow job.”
At first she didn’t understand what he meant. When she did, her jaw dropped. “A priest recommends such a thing? I am … shocked.”
He grinned and said, “An almost-priest. I never took holy orders.”
“And that makes a difference. How?”
He laughed and told her, “Even St. Augustine said he wanted to be good … but not yet.”
Omar suggested she try belly dancing and actually showed her how. “The trick is to be wearing very little clothing,” he said. “Preferably, a few sheer scarves.”
“Oh, now I know what you mean. They used to do these dances in the harems.”
Omar just rolled his eyes at her. They all did when she mentioned the harems.
Pretty Boy had some of the best ideas. Tight jeans, a boosty-air and red lip rouge. He was going to bring them for her tomorrow.
Cage, the rascal, just laughed and laughed. In the end, he suggested a place called Victoria’s Secret, and said they could order some garments, delivered overnight, from the Inner-net.
So Maddie was all set. Too bad Ian was in such a bad temper when he got home. Oh, well. She needed a little time anyhow, to bolster her nerve.
But tomorrow, he’d better watch out.