Game of Secrets and Shadows (Book One in the Covert Operations series)

Seven

                   

I woke up feeling utterly disoriented.  I attributed most of this feeling to the fact that I didn't remember falling asleep.  It was as if one second I was standing stoically against a dirty cave wall and the next I was waking up on a plush bed in the middle of a navy-blue colored room.

But the thing that disoriented me the most wasn't the fact that I was in the bed or the room.  It was the fact that I knew this room.  This was a room I was all-too familiar with.  I'd spent hours upon hours of my childhood here, more time than I probably spent in my own room if I was being honest.  Because, this room, this navy-blue painted room decorated with sports trophies and school awards and photographs of friends room, belonged to Daniel Ortiz.

I shot up out of the bed, wincing as pain coursed through me.  But the pain was less intense than I expected it to be and I found that, while my side was extremely tender and sore, which made it hard to breath, it wasn't the stabbing sort of pain I'd been enduring only hours before.

I was also wearing a shirt that didn't belong to me.  It was several sizes too large and draped across my body like a tent but it was clean and not covered with blood and dirt and sweat so it was an improvement from my previous garment of choice from the night before.  I pulled the hem up and saw, with shock, that my bullet would was covered in a thick pad of gauze and wrapped tightly with a bandage.  I wasn't quite sure who had fixed me up, though if the room was any indication I'd have to assume Daniel or his parents, but I was grateful.

I was also extremely worried about what this meant and so I maneuvered my way quickly towards the closed door that led to the main hallway off of Daniel's room.  Before I had the chance to turn the doorknob, the door itself swung open revealing an eighteen-year-old boy standing before me. 

Daniel looked the exact same as he had the past few times I'd seen him, same black hair and bold green eyes, except there was a weariness and a wariness about him that hadn't been there before. 

"Good," he said to me and seemed to exhale in relief.  His tone was distant, not unfriendly, but not necessarily warm either.  There was dim recognition in his eyes.  I was almost certain that he knew who I was but it seemed as if he didn't want to admit it.  Maybe he couldn't.  "You're awake.  Follow me."

He turned on his heel without another word and headed down the hallway.  I trailed after him, following his steps down the stairs.  He had a quiet tread, not quite as soft as mine but close.  When we reached the landing, I was able to get a glimpse out the window.  It was early in the morning, probably somewhere around five-thirty, if the pale pink and orange sky was any indication.  There were long shadows cast across the hardwood floor. 

We descended the last few steps and then he led me through an open doorway into the kitchen.  Wes was sitting there at the kitchen table, his hands wrapped around what seemed to be a mug of coffee.  He looked up as we entered, blue eyes bright and sorrowful.  His gaze turned apprehensive when he saw me trailing behind Daniel. 

Daniel looked at me and nodded towards the extra chairs at the table.  "You can sit."

"I'll stand."  My tone didn't give much room for argument but he narrowed his eyes. 

He'd always been stubborn.  Growing up, he'd been hard to dissuade from whatever crazy idea it was that he'd set his sights on.  He opened his mouth as if to say something and I quirked an eyebrow, waiting.  Then, he sighed and went to the other side of the kitchen where he pulled out two mugs and filled them up with rich caffeine.  I watched as he dumped sugar and cream in one while the other remained carefully untouched.  He picked up the black coffee and handed it to me while he took the other and went to sit across from my brother.