Waters of Lethe, Book 2

24. Pillar of Stone

So it was becoming the norm; Alex had briefing when I had briefing. I had briefing when Alex had briefing. We were stuck together. When I thought of it, I wouldn't have it any other way. I liked Alex's drive.

I came back to the present, nodding at Alex. "She's gotta learn sometime, right? She can't just sit in this building until she's our age before Scott allows her to go out."

Alex stopped just before we reached the gym doors and faced me. He looked like he wanted to say something, but ended up nodding.

"What?"

He pursed his lips, looked at my shoes.

"What?" I asked, more insistently.

"She's just a little kid." he said, his voice so quiet I could barely hear him.

"Are you that worried about her going out?" I remembered when I was told as soon as I got here that Alex had taken Piper under his wing, so to speak, training her, protecting her.

"Oh my God," I said in a rushed manner, catching Alex off guard.

He went into a small panic, not knowing what I was going on about. "What? What?"

I placed a hand on his shoulder, my other hand over his heart. I looked him in the eyes. "You.. You have a heart! Everybody!" I yelled, knowing no one was on the floor yet.

Alex grabbed my hand that was on his chest and squeezed, clamping his other hand over my mouth. "What are you doing?" he hissed. He tried holding his smile back, but couldn't. Eventually, he let me go.

"So what if I don't want a little girl to die in a cruel, harsh, unfair way?" he asked as we walked to the elevators. "No big deal. I'm no hero."

"You are to her," I pointed out. "I don't know why no one wants anything to do with her. It's like she's the black sheep around here."

Alex nodded. "The black sheep in the midst of black sheep who have flocked together."

"Oh. Wow. That's deep."

"Try to keep up, Ellie Eileen. I understand if you can't."

I popped him on the arm, realizing that I wanted to touch him again, then pressed the elevator button.

We walked into the briefing room in silence as Scott stacked papers here and there on the large table, organizing and arranging.

"Welcome, welcome," he greeted us, though he didn't have to. After the first couple of times, this was becoming the norm. "Let's jump right into this," he said, folding his hands in front of him on the desk. "I'm sending you two into the States. Your target is a twenty-two year old named Alex Whitman. Albuquerque, New Mexico." With a click of the remote in his hand, the picture of a broad shouldered, all star quarterback, homecoming king popped up.

"He kind of looks like you," I whispered to Alex beside me. This other Alex had brownish-blonde hair cut short with a scruffy beard.

"This guy's name is Alex?" Alex asked. "And he looks like me? This will never work."

Scott smiled. "Call him Whitman. Or we can call him Alex and you Martin."

"I was here first," Alex jokingly complained, but dropped it as Scott continued.

"You leave in the morning. Shouldn't be a long trip."

"What's the deal?" I asked. "I mean, why exactly are we getting him?"

Scott looked at me, somewhat condescending. "He's a member of a local college football team—"

It wasn't often that I was right about calling people out, guessing correctly what they did for a living or if they were a straight A student or if they were a stuck up spoiled rotten jock, but I was on a roll lately.