Under Normal Circumstances

Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

After the meeting, Jack had led me to the store room before I had time to talk to Houston, San or Mr Randa. He set me up with a huge spreadsheet pad, a pencil, and two flashlights, one for me and one for whoever he sent to help me.

"Jack, why does this mission seem a lot less happy-go-map an island and a lot more scary-don't miss the boat?" I asked him.

"It's all just precautionary, how hard could it really be?" He tried to reassure me.
"I have to go attend to my duties but we can talk more later, one of the boys'll come soon."

I sighed and got to work, thoroughly aggravated with it within a few moments. I had to hold the flashlight to look at the crates and tickets on things, then had to put it in my mouth so it would shine on the pad I carried in one hand and used the other to mark things off. I really needed a third arm to do this by myself. I soon started mumbling to myself out of irritation, aggravation and to keep myself from getting scared because I was alone in this dark creepy room. At least I thought I was alone. I rounded a corner to the next row and saw James Conrad.

"Are you holding fire next to a box of explosives?"

He was in front of a box which, from where I stood I could see, was labeled "Seismic Charges" with the warning of them being explosive made just as clear. He had been closely inspecting it, using a lighter for illumination, which he almost dropped from me startling him.

His blue eyes shown even in the darkness as he looked at me, one brow raised.

"I was careful," he smirked. "What are you doing down here?"

"Inventory," I sighed holding up the pad. "Want a flashlight?"

"You're not upset with me for looking at this?" He questioned, surprised.

I shrugged.
"I didn't like the sound of these either," I told him, handing him my spare flashlight.

"I thought you were with Randa's team?" He asked, brows now knit in curiosity as he crossed his arms and leaned on the crate.

"I came with them but I'm not really with them. My brother in law, Chapman, got them to let me tag along. I'm an accountant and extremely unqualified to be here," I explained, completely defenseless to his charms.

He was about to reply, something witty I'm sure due to the look on his face, when something over my shoulder caught his attention.

"And what are you doing down here?"

I turned to see who he was talking to, expecting to see one of the soldiers sent to help me, but it was a woman. And she was holding a camera.

"Maybelle, this is Mason Weaver,  the war photographer," James introduced with a tone of indifference.

"Anti war photographer," she corrected him without looking at me.

I found it odd that the first thought that came to my mind was that her face was shaped like a gumdrop.

"What are you doing down here?" She asked him.

Seeing that I was no longer part of this conversation because those two were eyeing each other intensely, I side stepped James and got back to work. The two of them stepped out of ear shot to continue their conversation. I could tell that Conrad was both too old to be interested in someone like me, and that I could not keep up with someone like him. However, I was well within my rights to appreciate his good looks and charm. I barely registered the sound of approaching footsteps and was half startled by my next guest.