Chapter 14: Marinah

It's only a half-ball on a flat surface, but it's kicking my butt. I actually feel sorry that Boot is forced to train me because it's a losing proposition. Without King's guarantee Boot won't kill me, I'd be worrying non-stop. Besides grumbling one-word commands, the man hasn't spoken.

"One foot," he barks.

Wow, two actual words.

I'm standing close to the wall so I can use it for balance. My palm hasn't left the smooth surface because I fall as soon as I try to stay upright on my own. "One foot is impossible. I can't even do two."

I wobble and spill the other way, where the wall can't stop my downward progress. At least it's only to my knees. "You've been given a hopeless job," I tell Boot while gaining my feet.

Yeah, he growls at me for that.

I stand and Boot steps closer so I can use his shoulder and the wall to climb the entire six inches onto the squishy plastic. "I'm not even sure what you're trying to accomplish. We've been at it for two hours."

"Four more hours to go." Less of a grunt this time even though impatience drips from each word. "I didn't realize you had such an extensive vocabulary," I reply sarcastically. I lift my hand from his shoulder and teeter back and forth. The toe of his boot hits the side of the ball and I topple. This time I go completely down on my side. "You did that on purpose."

"Grunt."

I stand up and place my hand back on his shoulder wondering if I have any chance at throttling him. I release my hand and then use my other hand against the wall to hold my balance. I'm at about a minute, which is progress though small. At this rate I'll be able to stand on this ball when I'm eighty.

"Is this all we're doing today? It's always possible I could be an ace shot lying prone on the ground, so maybe we should work on firearms." That's a joke. I can't shoot worth a crap, but he doesn't know that.

"Ball first."

"Stubborn man," I say under my breath.

"Boot," a feminine voice sounds from the doorway. I almost lose my balance when I turn my head. It's a woman. I'll take a guess from her dark hair and eyes that she's Cuban. Some survived.

"Dammit," Boot mutters as he walks over to her. "You want to get me killed, woman?" he says sternly.

"Che is missing. I was hoping he came here." There's real fear in her voice.

"He's not here." Boot glances at me over his shoulder and leans in to whisper something in her ear so I can't hear. Too bad. I might be lousy at standing on this stupid half ball, but I have exceptional hearing.

"If King finds out she saw you, she's dead not just me."

The woman looks at me with resentment. I guess I'm not to know that people from Cuba survived the hellhounds. "I've seen her, Boot. Who is Che?" I ask from across the room.

Boot covers his eyes for a moment. The woman has no problem answering me in her accented English. "Che is our son."

"How old is he?"

"Five."

"Then finding him immediately is more of a priority than me standing on this thing." What's surprising is I've had no trouble keeping my balance since she called Boot over. Using the wall, I step down. "I'll go back to my room while you look for your son. Once he's found, we can start this mess all over again. I need a break anyway."

"You have no idea what will happen when King knows you've seen my wife."

I wave his statement away. "I know, I know. He'll kill me, scatter my ashes to the four winds, and hold a celebration. Find your son."

For the first time I see something besides resentment in Boot's eyes. "Wait for me in my room," he tells his wife.

She gives me an assessing glance with maybe a touch of guilt before she turns from the doorway and heads down the hallway.

"Follow me back to your room," Boot commands.

He leads and I keep my mouth shut until he drops me with my babysitters, who are holding up the wall by my door. "Good luck," I tell him. I close said door behind me and collapse onto the bed spread eagle on my back. Who would think standing on a ball would be this exhausting? I stare at the ceiling wondering about the Cuban woman. She was young, somewhere in her mid-twenties. She appeared more distraught about her son than my impending death or her husband's. As it should be. She'll get over the guilt of my death quickly if they manage to find her son alive. We don't need more dead children.

I should be worried. I should be cowering in fear trying to find some place to hide. It's so strange that my fear is all but gone. It could possibly be that I'm on an island with a group of men who helped save us. I just don't think it's the only reason. Maybe I'm facing death like a true military leader. It will be my only heroic act but that's okay. Death will also keep me from standing on that ball again.

Somewhere in my thoughts of impending doom, I fall asleep.

***

The loud knock at the door wakes me much as it did this morning. No one enters this time, so I roll off the bed and throw open the door. "We need to get back to your training," Boot says.

I glance at the guard before following Boot down the long corridor. He gives me a "keep your mouth shut" look. I'm not stupid. The guards will hear if I ask about his son and I figure I'm not to know he has a son either. We remain silent while we navigate the endless hallways and find our way to the training room.

"Your son?" I ask as soon as the door closes behind us.

"Fell asleep in the barn under some hay. He's fine. The kid has no fear and endless curiosity."

Relief swamps me. "Thank God."

"Thank you for letting me look for him. My wife doesn't understand what's at stake. She's also pregnant and her hormones are causing all kinds of problems."

I guess a missing son breaks the ice. "Congratulations on the new baby. I've heard all about hormone problems when pregnant but never experienced it."

"When you mate with one of our kind, they're even worse. Her body is adjusting to the baby's rapid growth."

No, he shouldn't be telling me this. I also have no plans to tell the Federation. They'll start some diabolical child-making factory if I do.

"Your secret's safe with me, promise." The hard frown I receive for that statement shows exactly how Boot feels about it.

"We've heard those promises before."

"Not from me." I receive the required grunt. Boot walks toward the ball. "Please no," I beg.