Field of Blackbirds by Clayton Jeppsen & Lindsey Jeppsen (e reader manga txt) đ
Book online «Field of Blackbirds by Clayton Jeppsen & Lindsey Jeppsen (e reader manga txt) đ». Author Clayton Jeppsen & Lindsey Jeppsen
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Marcielli was the last to hop out of the cab, which meant he was left to pay the fare. He handed over fifteen dollars. The driver seemed pleased. Marcielli watched as the cab drove away and disappeared into a cloud of exhaust. They were standing on a crowded sidewalk. Hundreds of people following each other toward the Ancient Colosseum like a trail of ants. Every year, one of the Balkan countries hosts the mini winter games. This year they were in Macedonia. This specific day was chosen during the planning of the mission. The foreign traffic that invaded the city would be a great cover. No one would seem out of the ordinary. The Colosseum stood in front of them, waiting to host some of the greatest games ever played. The smell of competition permeated, and for the first time in his life, Marcielli wasnât interested in the game. He couldnât believe he was feeling this way. He didnât want the distraction. He felt the importance of the mission; why they were there. He didnât want anything to take that away.
The three of them stood aside as the crowd moved hastily by. Angelo checked his watch. âWe have almost an hour. Itâs enough time to catch a few good plays at least. Should we go in?â
Marcielli looked over at Florentine, who was tugging on the zipper of his jacket, trying to force it through a snag. âWhat do you think Flo? Do you think weâll be able to handle ourselves like gentlemen in there?â
Florentine knew where Marcielli was going with this. âIâm not sure it would be a good idea to get Marcielli all worked up like that and then pull the plug on him after one hour. Have you ever witnessed a Marcielli-meltdown before Angelo? I have. And itâs not pretty.â
Angelo laughed, âLook at us. Weâre like a bunch of recovering alcoholics standing around a beer bottle. Weâve been sober too long to give in now, right. I get the point guys. You want to stay focused. I think itâs best. The Alexander monument is a thirty minute walk from here. Letâs go.â
Marcielli was glad to find out everyone felt the same way; that the game would only be a tease and a distraction to the mission.
âWell boys, I have to say Iâm impressed. You know when to work and when to play. Thatâs the definition of a soldier. If I could, I would salute you both, but for now, youâll just have to take this,â Angelo quickly elbowed Florentine in the ribs and then punched Marcielli in the shoulder.
This caused some laughter and a minor street fight between the guys. After a short moment, their better judgment came into play and they composed themselves. The three walked for a while, side by side on the cobblestone of Macedonia. Marcielli, Florentine and Angelo were all three standing for something greater than themselves. All three walking into a mission of unknown risks and possibilities, and all three . . . . . volunteers.
Florentine brought his right arm in front of him as if to lead a symphony. He began singing the words to the Italian National Anthem, âLâInno di Mameliâ. It didnât take Marcielli or Angelo long to join in and execute a tenorâs trio.
Chapter 19 â Love & Rain
Los Angeles, California 1992
11334 Burbank Bvld. Lindsey put her car in park and waited to see if the rain would subside. It had been pouring down all morning. She could only work part time now that sheâd been going to school. Between the two, she managed to pass time.
As Lindsey watched the water bead up and roll down the windshield, she began thinking about recent decisions sheâd made. She planned on getting her own apartment, one downtown maybe, a little closer to work and school. But she decided to stay at home with her mom. For two reasons: it allowed her to put away more money for the future, for her and Reedâs future. And second, Mr. Love was gone most of the time. Even Lindsey only saw him in the office about once a week when he wasnât traveling on business. She knew her mom would get lonely if she left. Lindsey knew she needed the attention. It was something she had to live without most of her marriage. Lindsey loved her mom and right now, the opportunity to lean on each other couldnât have been more sublime.
Her mom was there in times of strength or in times of weakness. She was there for laughs or there for cries. Anna and Gracie were there for her too, like when she wanted to feel close to Reed, Gracie was a wonderful sister to have. But Lindsey always felt like she had to show how strong she was. She felt like if she was having a bad day, they might see it as weakness. But Lindsey could be herself with her mother. She could harbor her ship for repair and not be judged as though she were defeated. She could make believe and plan for their future without feeling silly about sharing her ideas. And well, sometimes she just wanted someone to stay up late with, eat ice cream and fall asleep shoulder-to-shoulder during âSteel Magnolias.â The two of them had emotional accountability to each other, as any mother and daughter would have.
Lindsey was convinced the rain wasnât going to stop anytime soon. The song, âWith or Without Youâ by U2 was playing on the radio. She told herself when it was over she would extend her umbrella and make a run for it. The business complex where her dad worked was so big that the parking lot seemed half a mile away and then she had to make it through the atrium between the buildings.
Halfway there, Lindsey gave up trying to beat the rain. She was already completely soaked. She couldnât help but smile. It reminded her of when she was a little girl, trying to find every reason to stay out in the rain. She closed her umbrella and tucked it under her arm. She would dry off once she got inside. Lindsey looked up and the rain seemed to slow. She watched as it came down between the buildings. It was wonderful, she thought. The beauty of it made her think that Reed was seeing the same thing; that they were in some way, sharing a moment together. Today was a good day for Lindsey. She wished Reed the best and blew a kiss toward the sky.
Lindsey barely caught the elevator and pressed the button that lit up number 44. She looked at the man next to her in his business suit. He was also soaked. When Lindsey made eye contact with him he just shrugged his shoulders. They both laughed at the awkwardness of the moment. She could see her reflection in the elevator doors, could see her eye make-up heading south for the winter. Something Reed always told her was sexy. By now, most of Lindseyâ friends were either married or well on their way to some sort of degree. Lindsey felt like she was stuck somewhere in between. But every once in a while, when she was up for âgirls night outâ she got a kick out of reminding her friends that she worked for the CIA. She even had a badge and a top-secret clearance card.
When Lindsey got to her dadâs office, she wasnât sure whether he was going to be there or not. It didnât surprise her to see that he wasnât there. And if he wasnât there to give her a special assignment, there was always filing to be done. After changing into a dry sweater that she left in the office and a visit to the break room for a cup of hot chocolate, she walked down the hall where the files were kept.
Last week Lindsey came across a file that spurred her curiosity. It was marked; âAmerican National Bank â Kosovo funding / Lt. Samuel Clayâ. Lindsey had heard Reed talk about a Lt. Samuel Clay. American National Bank was her dadâs bank. Inside the folder was a receipt of a $250,000.00 transfer to a local bank in Belgium. Thatâs where Reed was stationed. It wasnât uncommon for Mr. Love to keep classified information from Lindsey. But when Lindsey asked him about the folder, Mr. Love fumbled in his explanation and then acted as though that folder wasnât supposed to be with the rest of the files. On the following day, the folder was gone.
What did the folder mean, Lindsey asked herself? What did her dad know about Belgium, about Lt. Clay? Did her dad know something about Reed? Questions were plaguing her imagination.
Something that always bothered Lindsey was the fact that her dad rarely took time to get to know Reed. Occasionally, he would ask a question or two like; âHowâs Reed doing?â or âNow, what is it that Reed wants to do after he finishes school?â confirming that he did plan on finishing school. But it seemed to Lindsey that the attempts were only made in small talk or to fill a void in conversation. Lindsey watched Reed make so many attempts to get to know her dad. She even thought they had a lot in common. If only they could have arranged more time together. Mr. Love had taken on so many responsibilities in his job over the last year. He was an advisor to the head of the CIA and now he had also been given the tasks of Political Liaison and CIA Spokesman. It was a mountain of responsibility, considering the Gulf War had just come to an end and questions needed answers. Lindsey loved her dad and was proud of his achievements. She didnât want to pressure him at the peak of his career. She only wished the timing of it all was a little better.
Lindsey couldnât stop thinking about the folder. It was too much of a coincidence. She had to find out what her dad knew, what he was up to. Just before noon when she was about to leave for the day, she heard her dad greet a few people as he entered the office. She knew she would be late for class but she needed to talk to him. If Mr. Love knew anything at all about Reed, then Lindsey was entitled to that information. When she reached his office, she could see he was in a rush, late for a meeting or something. She hoped he would able to spare a few minutes.
âMiss, do you have an appointment? Iâm a busy man you know.â Mr. Love
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