Color Blind (Team Red) (8 page)

That brought me to attention. Married? David and Me? Not that David had asked, but I suppose I hadn’t really thought through where this relationship was going. I loved him; he was ‘it’ for me, but I had no real desire to get married. Having been raised in the State’s foster care program, I never really gave much credence to marriage after some of the dysfunctional households I’d been raised in. When we had a few minutes together, I would explain to Red that I didn’t know if marriage would ever be in my future. I wondered, briefly, what David’s expectations were. It seemed like forever, but, in actuality, we had only met four months ago. Wow, had it only been four?

Another dramatic sigh brought me back to Red’s dialogue,
“Oh, puh-leeze, save me from gushy brides,”
Red’s tone was disgusted.
“Now she’s going on about how cute the little flower girl, Jillian, was in her pink dress and Mary Janes. What the hell are Mary Janes?”

I laughed softly at Red’s commentary.

“What?” David asked, placing a kiss to my temple. “Our dog being snarky again?”

“Yeah,” I grinned. “The lieutenant is filling his ears with the wedding details. You know how he gripes when women get all mushy and sentimental.”

“Oh man, has he started swearing yet,” Bas asked. I heard the grin in his voice, and could picture a huge smile on his face.

“So far, just ‘hell’, but she is only up to what the flower girl was wearing. I’m sure I’ll hear something more colorful if she…”

“Crap!”
I hear from my dog.

“Ah, there he goes.” I tilted my head; a habit, I’m sure, as Red was talking in my head, not my ears.

“Ring bearer, yada yada. Dropped ring, blah blah. Oh, for Pete’s sake woman…”
Red’s voice trailed off in frustration.
“Teresa, I can’t stand anymore. Call me inside, please.”

I raised my voice just enough to be heard by the two on the deck outside, “Time to come in, Red.”

Red didn’t wait for the slider to open, I heard the plop, and swinging brush of the dog door barrier as he squeezed inside. He rushed past the dining table into the pantry.

“I guess he thinks he deserves a dog cookie,” I said to no one in particular. Moments later, the tapping of his claws came directly back to the table and David, Bas, and Gil started laughing uncontrollably.

“What?” I asked. I heard the sliding door open as Lt. Mercer came back into the house.

“Thanks for saving me,”
Red said. Snuggling his head up under my arm.

“Red, just brought YOU a cookie,” David told me. Raising my knuckles to his mouth for a kiss and laying my hand on my dog’s offering.

“Peanut butter, your favorite. I raided Ken’s stash.”

The cookie was one of the extra-large ones that were too wide for the mouth of the cookie jar; sealed in a little lunch baggie that Ken started using after the first time I protested dog cooties on an unwrapped present from my dog. Nothing like dog drool on the baked goods to spoil the pleasure in receiving a gift. “Wow, thanks Pal.” I unsealed my treat and broke off a section for David, who snagged up the offering immediately.

Kiss to my cheek. “Thanks, babe.”

I broke off a second piece to hold out for Bastian, “Thanks, Loser,” he teased, snagging it from my fingers before I could withdraw my hand at his insult.

I snapped off a smaller bite for myself and chased it with a long gulp of coffee. Perfect!

“… and you told him about Jillian’s pink dress and Mary Janes.” I took a sip of the newly refilled coffee mug, and to Red I said, “Mary Janes are a style of shoe with a flat heel and a strap across the top. They make them for adult women now, but it’s an old-fashioned design based on a children’s shoe. I have a pair, I can show them to you later if you really want to know.”

“Shoe is enough explanation for me,”
Red said.

“Then you told him you and your husband want a baby girl…”

“No,”
Red interrupted,
“I said Greg wants a baby girl. The lieutenant wants a boy.”

“I stand corrected,” I grinned. “Greg wants a girl, but Red is pretty sure that you are opting for a male-child. I can recite the name choices if you still need convincing.”

“No, thanks,” she replied, “You convinced me when you mentioned my flower girl by name. But how did the dog know I want a boy?”

“Body language and tone of voice,” I repeated, as Red answered in my head.

“Red, you are simply amazing,” Lt. Mercer acknowledged. “It’s so strange to think a dog can comprehend to such an extent. He got all the details correct. He even picked up on the fact I want a boy, though I don’t dare say anything to Greg; he has it in his head he wants a little mini Me.”

“After that demonstration, it seems like overkill to do the guessing game,” Lt. Osborn said, ruefully.

“Go ahead anyway,” Bas said. “It will get rid of any lingering doubts you might have.”

The items were pretty straight-forward: a salt shaker from the stove top, the container of betta fish food from the kitchen counter, a paper napkin, and a can of food. “Red can’t read, so, unless there’s an identifiable picture on the label, he won’t be able to tell me what’s in it.”

“David just whispered in my ear, it’s a can of Sloppy Joe sauce,”
Red said.

“What! Ken, you told me you made the Sloppy Joes from scratch.”

“Oh, like you can’t hear me use the can opener every time you tell me you want Joes for lunch?” Ken snarked back at me. “Besides, I add my own secret ingredients when I cook up the meat; I only use the canned stuff for a base sauce.”

“I have to say, I’m convinced,” Lt. Mercer admitted.

“Yeah, I am too. I fully understand you could have the dog wired, or be using some elaborate microphone system set up to relay the answers to the guessing game; but the unexpectedness of our arrival and the colonel’s prior working relationship with you guys are my key reasons for suspending disbelief.” I’m not sure who Lt. Osborne was directing his statement to, but I suspected he was speaking to David. “What you have here, with the whole Team Red dynamic, is an unprecedented opportunity to infiltrate places we couldn’t even begin to imagine.”

“I have to agree,” Colonel Spencer added. “I’m a believer simply because we have worked together so long, and I am more able to believe this fantastic tale, than I am to believe you and Sebastian would lie to me. Quite frankly, your and Bas’ reputations are spotless, and both of you are known for your integrity and forthright manner.” He chuckled, almost sounding giddy, “I am thrilled to be included in your circle of confidants. I can already think of a couple of things I’d like to run by your team to see if you think you can help with some tricky intel gathering.

“We are happy to discuss anything you think we can assist with, colonel, but keep in mind that Teresa is a civilian, and she is very important to me…”

“To us,” Bas inserted.

“To us,” David amended. “Her safety is our main priority. We hope we can help you, but we decide our projects as a team. Bas and I insist that one or both of us accompany Teresa whenever she is working. Gil is one of our valued resources, so please be aware that he is often part of our discussions and strategy sessions. He’s a detective with the police department, and he’s earned our trust. He’s an ex-Marine, although, we have forgiven him for that one misguided decision. If he chooses to be, he will be privy to our assignments so we can take advantage of his military service experience.”

“I appreciate that,” Gil said. “I’m sure you guys know that I’m willing to help where I can, and I’d be happy to accompany Teresa, when you’re not available, to act as her security.”

“We’ve never really talked about it with you, Gil, but we figured we could count on you.” I felt both David and Bas shifted forward in their chairs, and I assumed they were doing the manly, fist-bump thing that guys do.

David continued where he left off, “The team would expect payment as private contractors providing a unique, but classified service. If we are expected to travel, or if we need special gear or outfitting, or if we are away from home for an extended period of time, we will expect per diem as well as all team expenses paid.”

“Understandable, and acceptable,” Colonel Spencer quickly agreed. “Gil, no offense, but I’d like to get a bit of background on you, due to the classified nature of some of the future projects I may discuss with the team.

There was some movement from Gil’s chair, and I heard the click of a ballpoint pen. “Here’s my business card. On the back is the name and phone number of a person that can vouch for me.”

There was a slight pause, as I assumed the colonel was reading the info. Without commenting on the business card, he lightly cleared his throat, “So, how do you guys feel about dancing?”

I guess the name of Gil’s reference was good enough for the colonel.

****************

The mission was discussed, refined, and accepted. Fees, expenses, and travel arrangements were all hashed out. Lt. Mercer was our go-to-gal for anything we needed to arrange. With the colonel’s backing, she would handle tickets, reservations, invitations, and petty cash. It seems we were heading to San Francisco for a holiday ball in three weeks. Crap, I needed to send Ken out to buy me a gown. He may not be my personal assistant anymore, but he and Janey would get a kick out of shopping for me. Acckkk, I hated shopping when I had my eyesight, and now, as a blind woman, it was especially tedious.

At seven-thirty, excuse me (just picture my eye roll), that would be nineteen-thirty hours, the colonel and his staff poured into Ken’s SUV for the drive back to Fairchild. Colonel Spencer assured us that his staff, as well as Lieutenants Carpenter and Lao, would be instructed to keep the confidentiality of our home address and the existence of the basement facilities to themselves. We were officially ‘an undisclosed’ location in his report. And, Team Red was officially contracted to work for the United States government.

****************

We relocated to the couch and spent the next half-hour strategizing about our mission. How cool is that? We had a mission! Gil had some really great insight on how we may be able to utilize Red; and might I add, I had no idea until now, just how devious Gil was.

It wasn’t until the guys started to talk about heading home and making plans to get together again tomorrow morning, that I bent to Red and whispered a few instructions in his ear. “Hey guys, hold up for a few minutes, would you? Red and I have something to show you.”

“The only thing that was laying out was this envelope down on David’s desk,”
Red said, as he trotted back into the room, presumably after raiding a flat surface in the underground lair.

“Just hand it to Bas,” I instructed my dog. I leaned back into David, and relaxed into his embrace as his arms came around me reflexively, and he rested his chin on my shoulder. Oh, boy, this should be interesting.

“Bastian, can you take out the paper in the envelope and hold it up for Red, don’t tell us what it is, just make sure its not top secret or something.”

“Nope, not top secret,” he told me, with a chuckle.

In moments, I had the mental image from Red. “It’s an account statement from David’s credit union, and…” I paused and concentrated a little harder, “Holy Shit, David! You have more money than God!” I counted the digits in front of the decimal point.

“The
Hell
, you say!” Gil practically shouted, in surprise, “Red can fuckin’ read?”

I think that was the first time I’d ever heard Gil drop the f-bomb. I would have been more amused if I wasn’t still processing the fact that my lover had over three million dollars in his bank account. Red broke the mental link, per my earlier request, without projecting an image of the guys. We had done what I had set out to do.

“Crap.” Bas’ voice was almost reverent, compared to the explosive outburst from the mild-mannered detective. “When did that happen? How did this happen? Last week he could barely count to five, and he’s never been able to read letters before.”

“Not quite, guys,” I attempted to redirect the excitement. “While Red and I were out exploring earlier today, we discovered if he concentrates, he can show me what he’s imagining or actually seeing. I can see into his mind and through his eyes.”

The arms around me tensed, and I felt the sudden inhale as David comprehended what I said. He slowly exhaled, ruffling the curtain of hair against my cheek. He curved his body into the contour of my back in a tight hug. “My god, Teresa. This opens up so many possibilities for you,” he whispered into the shell of my ear.

I curved my fingers up to grasp the arms that enfolded me and squeezed his wrists in silent acknowledgment. “I see the same way he sees,” I explained, “so I can’t see red or green.”

“That’s why you were asking questions about Red’s vision earlier,” Gil stated, as he thought through the earlier conversation. “Damn, Teresa, the talking dog thing is amazing in itself; but, seeing through him too?” Gil’s voice trailed off. “That’s just …”

“Fucking amazing.” Trust Bas to say what everyone else was thinking. Expletive included.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “What he said.”

“I think this is something we don’t want getting out to anyone beyond the four of us,” Bas said, slowly, as if his mind were sifting through details.

“Five,”
Red piped up from his spot at my feet.

“Five,” I repeated. “Well, seven because we will need to include Ken and Janey.”

“Yes, we will definitely have to tell them,” Bas agreed, “but no one else. Gil, I trust you’ll not be sharing this with the cops?”

“Hell no. I’m with you, Bas. I can’t think of any reason to spread this little discovery to anyone - Not even your colonel,” Gil said, firmly. “The military doesn’t need to know Teresa can see through the dog. If word of this got to the wrong people, they’d have these two in a lab so fast, they would probably never see daylight again.”

“How did you two figure out you could do this?” David asked me. His tight hug had loosened and I was once again in a casual circle of his arms.

“Red imagined jumping to catch a drone, and I was able to follow what his mind was picturing. In the short time we practiced, we realized I could see through him if he concentrates on something. Red was able to learn to talk and hold a visual image at the same time; although, this gives him a bit of a headache. He and I still have to work on refining the skill.”

“The headache didn’t last very long, Teresa. I’m fine,”
My dog told me. I ruffled his ears, and used my nails to advantage. He was almost groaning in appreciation as his head pressed affectionately into the scratches.

“At first I thought I was just imagining a black and white image. Then, Red was telling me how easy it would be to catch a drone,” I explained. “That’s when I realized the images in my brain had a bit of yellow and blue tint. It was a bit unfocused, which, I think, added to my confusion. For some reason, I thought dogs had better vision than people.”

“So, Red has to project the image to you, like the mind-speaking.” Bastian sounded more like he was speaking out loud, than asking.

Maybe not a question, but I felt compelled to answer anyway, “That’s right. It felt like the same type of communication as when he talks to me, but now he’s illustrated,” I grinned, moving my nails to Red’s other ear. “We practiced for less than an hour, but we strengthened his ability to talk and project images at the same time; he improved as we worked together. We tried the range at about thirty feet, and it’s apparently the same as our mind speak, the image doesn’t weaken with distance. We didn’t try any farther away from each other; Ken called us in for lunch before we could experiment more.”