Stevie Woods Other Worlds 1 Favor For Friend

A F

AVOR

FRIEND

… Jake was jarred from his thoughts as the earth beneath his feet

shuddered. Puzzled, he decided it was probably something going on in
one of the labs underground. Bart wasn’t the only scientist to work
long hours. Jake was debating returning to the base when an alarm
screeched into the night.

He pulled out his comm-unit and tried to get a response as he ran

back toward the base. He couldn’t get through and when he reached
the guard at the entrance he yelled, “What’s happened?”

“I don’t know, sir.” The man was holding his own comm. “Can’t

get through.”

Nodding, Jake ran past him, straight for the elevator.
“Better to take the stairs, sir.”
He waved at the guard and swerved for the stairs instead. As he

vaulted down the steps, he tried his comm again, more out of panic
than expectation, and had about given up when he finally got a
response. As the words washed over him, he almost dropped the
comm-unit.

The message kept repeating in his head. An explosion had taken

place in the armory on level nine, causing extensive damage to floors
eight, nine and ten, and resulting in multiple injuries to a variety of
personnel.

Bart’s office was on eight.
There had been no mention of Bart being injured. That, however,

didn’t stop Jake’s panic kicking in big time—fuelled by his guilt. Bart
would’ve left hours earlier if he hadn’t been doing Jake a favor. God,
how could I put a damned recital before Bart’s safety? No, no it
wasn’t like that; it wasn’t. He could tell himself that logically and
know it was true, but it had no affect in assuaging his guilt. Please let
him be all right, please…

LSO

TEVIE

OODS

Best Policy

Lightning Strikes

Other Worlds

A FAVOR

FOR A FRIEND

STEVIE WOODS

MBER

UILL

RESS

, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

A F

AVOR

A F

RIEND

MBER

UILL

RESS

OOK

This book is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the

author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales,

or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

No portion of this book may be transmitted or

reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in

writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief

excerpts used for the purposes of review.

ISBN 978-1-61124-080-1

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

CHAPTER 1

“Aw, come on, Bart, you know you can do it a lot quicker than

I can.”

Bart frowned as he looked at Major Archer, who was leaning

on Bart’s desk and looking down at him with an expectant
expression on his face. “Maybe, but that’s hardly—”

“And you can word it better than I can,” the major interrupted.

“You know what needs to be said and you could explain more
clearly, more thoroughly.”

“Jake, don’t try and do a snow job on me. I know you too well.

You have years of experience preparing reports, and I think you
forget that I know what you have planned for tonight.”

Jake dropped his head and sighed. “I should’ve known better,”

he said under his breath, but Bart heard him. He looked up and

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said, “Okay, I’m busted. I owe you big time, anything you want…
”

“Anything? Oh, careful, Major Archer, I might just hold you to

that,” Bart said laughing.

Pacing now, Jake went on, “You know how important this is.

We’ve been rehearsing for this for weeks, months. I can’t let the
guys down. Damn it, I want to play. Please, Bart. If you could just
finish the report for me so it can be on Banks’ desk by oh-eight-
hundred tomorrow, you can ask any favor from me you want.”

“Can I get that in writing?” Bart grinned, swiveling his chair

and watching the other man move back and forth in front of his
desk. He did, indeed, know how important tonight was for his
friend.

Jake put his hands together in mock prayer and said

dramatically, “Signed in blood.”

Bart laughed. “Good thing I know you keep your word, my

friend, because you’ll definitely owe me big-time for this. I’ve just
spent three hours preparing my report for the general and all I
wanted to do was to go home and relax with a good glass of wine.”
He didn’t tell Jake he had intended to be there in the audience.
He’d get hold of a recording afterwards.

“I’ll swing a case for you,” Jake said quickly.
“Oh no, you don’t get off that easy,” Bart said raising a finger.

He smiled, eyes twinkling. “I’ll think of something. Now be off
with you and let me get on with this. I’d like to be home by ten!”

With a grin and a careless wave of his hand, Jake left the

office, and Bart could hear him whistling as he made his way to the
elevator. Shaking his head, Bart didn’t really mind too much
finishing Jake’s report; the major was a good friend who was
always there when he was needed.

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Bart settled down to study Jake’s report. Most of the meat of it

was already there as a series of rough notes and out of order
reference comments; he just needed to organize Jake’s points and
put his thoughts into coherent order. With a grin at some of Jake’s
more colorful phrases, Bart began to work.

* * *

Jake leaned back in the elevator, savoring the knowledge he

could put work behind him and enjoy relaxing the way he wanted.
He knew he’d surprised some people when he had joined the small
group and more so when he had suggested the string quartet recital.
He smiled; he liked jerking some folks out of their preconceived
ideas of who he was. The hard-assed, loudmouth soldier, who also
loved classical music and could make a violin sing. Tonight was
going to be their first recital and every seat had been taken. He was
sure half the audience was there to see him and—to a lesser
degree—his companions fail. He’d show them. He would play
“Four Seasons.” They would love it—and so would he.

He sighed, wondering what Bart would say if his friend knew

what he was thinking. He always had to prove he was the best;
something that he knew bugged the hell out of Bart, who didn’t
think such things were important.

Then, at the last minute, the general had demanded the report a

whole day earlier than originally required. Jake’s immediate
reaction had been anger. He’d considered trying to make the
general change his mind, remind him of the concert, but he knew
the general wouldn’t have issued the order without good cause.
General Banks had a seat in the front row for the concert. It was
frustrating, as Jake had actually made sure he had everything ready

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to finish his report in plenty of time the next day.

In truth, he’d known all along that Bart wouldn’t let him down;

his friend knew how important his music was to him. After all,
Jake had explained to him in great length at lunch in the canteen.
Delia, Ron and Carl, the other members of their team, had made
their excuses and left as soon as they’d finished eating, leaving
only poor Bart to face his excitement at the prospect. As he
remembered the indulgence with which his friend had listened to
him, Jake suddenly wished that, of all people, Bart could be in the
audience, watching him. Perhaps Bart might like a private recital?

* * *

Bart had been working for about two hours and was nearly

finished when he realized he had no information on one of the
reference points Jake had scribbled in the margin. With a frustrated
sigh, he knew he would need to go to Jake’s office for the relevant
literature. As he stood and stretched to get the kinks out of his
back, he decided the walk would probably do his aching muscles
some good anyway.

He downed the last mouthful of coffee and strode into the

hallway to make his way to Jake’s office a couple of floors below,
smiling as he remembered the running joke that no one knew
where the Major Archer’s office was because he so rarely used it.

He passed Lieutenant Garber as he exited the elevator on the

tenth floor.

“Captain Hilton,” Garber said.
“Lieutenant.” As he acknowledged the man, he absently noted

his vague similarity to Jake. He wondered at his imagination as he
strode down the corridor, or he was just seeing Jake everywhere?

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He wouldn’t be surprised; the man seemed to have taken over his
life more and more in recent months.

With a sad sigh, Bart wished he could control his feelings

better. Usually, when he was caught up in his work, he could keep
them at bay, but even that had become more difficult since Jake
had developed the habit of dropping by the office whenever he felt
like it. Jake’s action fuelled Bart’s desires, making his coping
strategy fail by degrees. However, Bart decided, on balance he
would much rather have Jake’s friendly overtures with the
attendant need to keep his feelings under tighter rein than only see
him on official occasions.

Sitting in the chair behind Jake’s desk, Bart allowed himself a

brief meander through his usually forbidden thoughts about the
major. Bart had served with a few senior officers, but never had
anyone been like Jake Archer. He was a firm commander in the
field, but always fair, and when they were off duty, the major
allowed that side to slide and was more of a friend than a team
leader. He was the same with the other regular members of their
team, Carl Bradley, Ron Eisley and Delia Edson.

Bart allowed himself to drift back through pleasant memories

of laughter and tears; of days spent together during their downtime,
occasionally the two of them, but more often with Delia, Ron and
Carl, too. He recalled a hand rubbing the nape of his neck for a job
well done. He remembered times after a hard mission holding
Jake’s hand in the medical bay, or of waking to feel Jake’s thumb
rubbing absently over the back of his hand.

Or, even more special, that one time when a pair of strong arms

had hugged him and the hands holding the back of his head as Jake
murmured words of relief when the major had been afraid he had
been killed. His remembrances turned to fantasy when he imagined

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

the warm breath on his neck as Jake hugged him had been a soft
kiss on his pulse point and the hand on his head began to run
through his hair tenderly, lovingly…

He sighed, pushing the tempting but impossible thoughts aside.

He forced himself to look for the papers he needed instead.

He had just picked them up when he heard the terrific bang, so

loud it seemed to echo. Simultaneously, he felt the floor lift
beneath his feet and the ceiling seemed to be rushing toward him,
even as the lights went out. He became aware of a strange
sensation of floating, even though his mind told him that wasn’t
possible—which proved true when he slammed into something and
fell with a thud to the floor below him.

Bart felt a sharp pain along his right side, an odd ringing in his

ears and a burning feeling across his pupils made him realize his
eyes were still open before they slid shut and he knew no more.

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

CHAPTER 2

It was almost ten when Jake signed out of the underground

base, heading for his quarters. He was feeling very happy with
himself. The concert had gone remarkably well and Jake had
received a standing ovation for his solo, as had the whole ensemble
when they finished. It was a good feeling.

He looked up at the night sky, musing how, even after two

years here on Alkya, he still found it strange to look up at stars he
didn’t quite recognize. He lowered his gaze and looked at what the
inhabitants euphemistically called the town. It was actually a
haphazard collection of pre-fabricated houses and three story-
apartment blocks, just enough to accommodate the members of the
Investigation Division—Other Worlds.

When the division was searching for a suitable planet or moon

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

to set up a base in this region of space, the discovery of an existing
but long-abandoned underground complex on the small planet
labeled ALK1a had been deemed fortuitous. Plans had swiftly
gone ahead for the formation of what became colloquially known
as the Alkya Base. It was apparent there had once been a
civilization in this sector of space that had contained numerous
planets within a large solar system but, for reasons still unclear, the
civilization had disappeared long ago. Exactly how long was an
open question.

On the northern edge of the town stood the huge hangar in

which the small survey ships were stored. The hundred and
seventy-nine personnel who formed the Alkya Base had been
brought here in one of the fleet explorer ships two years ago and
were not slated to be replaced for another three years. It hadn’t
been long, however, before the general had requested more
personnel, specifically more scientists and technicians, which, of
course, also meant more military personnel. Whoever the race had
been that had once lived on these planets, they had been
technologically advanced. Much of what the personnel had found
was fascinating and damned confusing. Jake didn’t envy the
science types like Bart and Delia; he was happy enough being
purely military. The various scientists worked closely with the
teams of technicians investigating the many different kinds of
things they discovered on the survey missions they conducted.

Most of those on base hadn’t known each other before this

assignment, all having been delegated to new duty. Jake smiled at
the thought that he could never have known how important the
people who made up his team would become to him, particularly
one Bart Hilton. His smile faded a little as he wondered if Bart was
relaxing in his quarters yet, sipping his wine. He was feeling a little

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

guilty and hoped the younger man wasn’t still working on his
report this late. Grinning and shaking his head, he thought not even
Bart would take three hours to finish a report. Then he recalled
Bart saying it had taken him three hours to write his own, and
knowing how thorough he was…

Jake was jarred from his thoughts as the earth beneath his feet

shuddered. Puzzled, he decided it was probably something going
on in one of the labs underground. Bart wasn’t the only scientist to
work long hours. Jake was debating returning to the base when an
alarm screeched into the night.

He pulled out his comm-unit and tried to get a response as he

ran back toward the base. He couldn’t get through and when he
reached the guard at the entrance he yelled, “What’s happened?”

“I don’t know, sir.” The man was holding his own comm.

“Can’t get through.”

Nodding, Jake ran past him, straight for the elevator.
“Better to take the stairs, sir.”
He waved at the guard and swerved for the stairs instead. As he

The message kept repeating in his head. An explosion had

taken place in the armory on level nine, causing extensive damage
to floors eight, nine and ten, and resulting in multiple injuries to a
variety of personnel.

Bart’s office was on eight.
There had been no mention of Bart being injured. That,

however, didn’t stop Jake’s panic kicking in big time—fuelled by
his guilt. Bart would’ve left hours earlier if he hadn’t been doing

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

Jake a favor. God, how could I put a damned recital before Bart’s
safety? No, no it wasn’t like that; it wasn’t. He could tell himself
that logically and know it was true, but it had no affect in
assuaging his guilt. Please let him be all right, please.

The thought did slip through his mind that if he had been

working on the report in his own office on level ten, almost
directly below the armory, it would probably have been him the
rest of his team would be worrying about right now.

He reached the control centre, looking for General Banks, but

locating only Sergeant Nilson.

Without preamble, Jake asked, “Do we know anything about

casualties? Captain Hilton was working late. Is he accounted for?”

“Major, everything is still very confused. We had two fatalities

on level nine—two technical staff members working in the
laboratory next to the armory. Casualties are being taken to the
medical bay, which thankfully sustained no damage. I’ve heard
reports there are trapped personnel on at least two floors. I don’t
have any information about Captain Hilton.”

“Could you check on his whereabouts for me? Where’s the

general?”

“I’ll do what I can, sir. The rescue operation is being directed

from level seven, sir. General Banks is there.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Nilson. I’ll report to the general.”
“Sir.”
Jake hurried toward the elevator and saw a car waiting. He ran

in and jabbed at the button. As soon as the car moved, he dropped
his head and took a breath. His first reaction was relief; there was
no information that Bart was injured. Then he snapped up his
head—no information at all.

He got off the elevator at level seven, which also happened to

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be where the medical bay was situated. The first person he saw
was Lieutenant Carl Bradley, who was talking to Sergeant Ron
Eisley.

“Carl!” Jake called.
Bradley and Eisley turned swiftly at the sound of his voice.
“Major, I was wondering where you were,” Carl said.
“I was in the control centre, trying to see if there was news

about Bart. Do you know what happened?”

“I’m afraid that is still something of a mystery, Major,” Banks

spoke up.

“Sir.” Jake turned smartly at the sound of his commander’s

voice. “Sorry I didn’t report immediately, but I was concerned
about Bart. He was working in his office and—”

“Captain Hilton? There was no one in his office. It has been

damaged, but not too severely.”

Jake sighed with relief. “He must’ve finished then.” Jake

wondered why he wasn’t here, somewhere. Bart would’ve wanted
to help in any way he could. On another level most likely.

“Excuse me, sir,” Sergeant Nilson said, approaching the

general. “The major asked me to check on Captain Hilton’s
whereabouts.”

“It’s okay, Sergeant. It sounds as if he’d finished and gone up

top,” Jake said.

“No, sir, he hasn’t,” Nilson said turning to Jake, his expression

making Jake’s stomach twist. “Captain Hilton has not signed out—
and according to Lieutenant Garber, he was seen on level ten
shortly before the explosion.”

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

CHAPTER 3

Bart wasn’t sure if he was caught up in a nightmare. He felt

trapped, unable to move, as if the weight of the world pressed on
his chest and if he took just one more breath, it would dislodge
everything and tumble down on top of him. Somehow he knew that
if he could just turn over, he would awaken. If he could just wake
up, he would open his eyes and find himself in his bed, or maybe
he’d fallen asleep in his office chair… wouldn’t be the first time.
Anywhere would do, just so he could escape from this nightmare.

Only he couldn’t turn over; he couldn’t even move. Just the

thought of moving and the pain would begin, first in his head and
then his shoulder and finally all the way down his right side. Was
this part of the nightmare? Or was the nightmare that this was all
real?

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

He wanted to open his eyes, but he was afraid. Afraid of what

he would see, but even more afraid he wouldn’t be able to see
anything. Steeling himself, he slowly opened his eyes.

It was black, pitch black. No, wait. Allowing his eyes to adjust,

Bart saw shades of grey, a deep, dark shade of charcoal fading to a
murkiness that told him this was all too real. Dust drifted
everywhere. He was in a cave-in. He’d been caught in one a year
or so ago and he recognized the signs.

But where? He couldn’t remember being anywhere he could be

involved in a cave-in, but then again everything was just a
confused jumble anyway. Think, Bart, think! It was just too
damned hard to concentrate with the pounding in his head and, as
if one injury set the others off, the pain traveled throughout his
body, increasing as each new injury made itself known, until he
succumbed to the peace of unconsciousness.

* * *

“I’m going to check medical bay again,” Sergeant Eisley said,

backing away. “Just in case.”

Jake felt the chill creeping up his spine. He knew Eisley had

spoken, but he couldn’t make sense of the words. He was vaguely
aware when Carl moved closer to him. It was the close-knit nature
of their team that made it work so well, and the idea Bart may have
been hurt, or worse, here where he should have been safe was
terrifying.

“Major? Major Archer?” The general’s voice reached him as if

from a distance.

“Sir?” Jake finally answered and his voice sounded strained to

his own ears.

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

“Don’t jump to any conclusions, Jake,” General Banks said

kindly. “Level ten is badly damaged and we know there were a few
injured personnel brought to the medical bay from down there, but
Captain Hilton wasn’t among them. It’s possible he may still be
trapped, but I will ensure he is not elsewhere. Sergeant Nilson,
confirm that, please.”

“Yes, sir.”
Just then, one of the engineers called for Banks’ attention, and

while he was otherwise engaged, Carl turned to speak quietly to
Archer.

“Do you have cause to believe Bart might be on level ten?”
“It’s very possible,” Jake replied softly. He looked at Carl

squarely and continued, “He was doing a favor for me. I… I asked
him to help me by finishing a report that Banks needed first thing
tomorrow.” His face twisted by his expression of self-disgust, he
added harshly, “I had something more important to do; I had to
play the violin!”

Ignoring Jake’s outburst, Carl asked, “Was he working on your

report in your office?”

“No,” Jake said. “I left him working in his own office, but I

guess it’s possible he may’ve needed reference material I kept in
mine. If Garber said he was seen… ”

“Then we must assist in the excavation work to break through

to level ten,” Carl said crisply.

“Sir, sir!” Captain Delia Edson’s voice echoed down the

corridor. She pushed her way through to them. “I was helping in
the medical bay and I heard from Ron Eisley that Bart may’ve
been on ten. Do you know anything about this?”

“Yes,” Carl replied, saving Jake from another confession. “Bart

was assisting Major Archer in the preparation of a report and may

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have visited his office just prior to the explosion.”

Eyes wide, Delia said in a soft, thoughtful way, “Your office is

directly below the armory.”

“I’m aware of that!” Jake snapped back and then, when he saw

her expression, he added, “I’m sorry, Captain. I’m just… ”

“Please, sir, I know. I… What’re we going to do?”
“Help get him out,” Jake said, turning to see if the general was

free yet. He was determined to do everything he could to get to
Bart and just prayed he was still alive and not too badly injured. He
would never, ever, forgive himself if anything happened to Bart
because of his own selfish behavior.

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

CHAPTER 4

Bart drifted back to consciousness and slowly tried to recall

how he came to be wherever he was. Underlying the waves of
pain, he was decidedly uncomfortable, stretched at an odd angle,
his body twisted from the waist, his legs bent, almost as if he were
in a sitting position. He was half on his back and half on his left
side, with something pressing on his right side. Most of the pain
was centered in his right side, but he wasn’t certain if it was
damaged or if it was the pressure causing the pain.

He also wondered if he had a concussion because, besides the

continuous headache, he was sure his eyesight was affected. His
spectacles were gone so obviously everything was blurry, but there
was also an area in the periphery of his left side that he couldn’t
see at all, almost as if a black screen blocked that part of his vision.

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He tried to put that out of his thoughts for the time being. What

worried him the most was whether anyone knew he was here. He
tried calling out, but no one answered him, though he was so
hoarse he doubted his voice carried very far. If he was off-world,
his team or at least one member, usually Jake, should be nearby.
While he hoped Jake was here—he was afraid of being trapped
here without anyone knowing—he was even more afraid Jake was
here, lying hurt or, God forbid, dead somewhere close.

Suddenly, he heard an odd clicking, a subtly grating sound

from somewhere behind him. It could be an animal, something
dangerous. He tried to twist to see what might be there and he
gasped as pain shot through him.

The sound came again and Bart called out, “Is anyone there?

Help, I need help!”

The sound continued, growing in volume and abruptly he saw

light. It flickered and faded and slowly died, but there had been
light behind him and slightly above. Electric light! Wherever he
was, it was no cave.

* * *

General Banks showed Jake, Carl, Ron and Delia a rough

layout of the damage as surveyed by the engineers. Apparently, the
explosion had occurred in the west side of the armory, causing the
worst damage there and to the lab situated next door, killing the
two technicians working there.

The explosion had also destroyed the two offices situated

directly over the armory on level eight. Bart’s office was at the far
end of that corridor, and Jake now figured any damage was
reasonably minor, and that if Bart had been working in his own

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office, he would most likely have come away unscathed.

For some reason, as yet undetermined, the main focus of the

blast seemed to have been directed downward to level ten and four
of the rooms on that level had been virtually destroyed. Jake’s
office was the one on the far west of those four; the one next to his
had taken the brunt of the damage and the two on the other side
were also badly wrecked. As far as anyone knew, the four offices
were empty, all belonging to Jake and other senior officers. Jake
and one other officer were known to have signed out, one was
away on a mission and the other was on sick leave.

Rescue efforts had first concentrated on levels nine and eight as

personnel were known to be working there. The few casualties
from level ten had made their own way to the medical bay.

“Pardon me, sir,” Sergeant Nilson interrupted the discussion.

At Banks’ nod, he continued, “I have to report that Captain Hilton
could not be located anywhere on the base or in the town.”

Shit, Bart must’ve been working in my office! It was only when

Jake saw his general’s raised eyebrow that he realized he had
expressed his fear aloud. “Sorry, sir.”

“No apology necessary. I understand your concerns.” Banks

turned to Nilson. “Get Garber in here.”

Lieutenant Garber arrived so quickly Jake wondered if the man

had been waiting for a summons. Banks got straight to the point.

“You’re sure you saw Captain Hilton on level ten, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir, the captain was leaving the elevator. We spoke very

briefly and the last time I saw him, he was heading for the major’s
office.” He glanced at Jake. “It was less than ten minutes before
the explosion.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Rejoin your team.”
As Garber left, General Banks directed his steely gaze at Jake.

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“Colonel Holgate already has all his men working on levels eight
and nine.” The general thought a moment. “Wait here while I get
an update from Holgate.”

“Sir?” Jake got to his feet. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing

while—”

“You will do as I order, Major,” Banks said sharply. His face

softened and he added, “I don’t want you blundering about down
there and bringing the roof down. If Holgate needs your help,
then… ”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

It didn’t take long before the general returned with Holgate in

tow and Jake was relieved to learn the engineering colonel did
require all the reliable help he could get. Together with a few
engineers he could spare from the other levels, Jake’s team and
three other volunteers, Holgate had twelve personnel. Jake knew
more people had volunteered, but the area was so unstable that too
many people working there was dangerous.

Holgate and the three engineers he had taken from the teams

working on eight and nine poured over blueprints. The general
joined the group, as did Lieutenant Garber.

Waiting around while Holgate and his engineers checked,

double-checked and confirmed their findings before they approved
the rescue plan only allowed time for Jake’s feelings to coalesce.
Bart had made an impression on Jake almost from the moment
they had met, and that importance had grown until it became part
of him, as important as breathing and just as automatic. Jake
struggled to keep a grip on his emotions. How could he have put

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into danger the person who meant most to him in the world?

He knew if he lost Bart, he lost everything. He was not only

Jake’s best friend, he was the person Jake loved, the person who
made life worth living, the person who made him laugh, who made
him cry, who made him see value in not only the large things in
life, but the little vital things that were always there but rarely
recognized. He was Jake’s link with life and without him he had
nothing. If Jake lost Bart now because of his own stupid
culpability…

He felt hot tears pricking at his eyes and fought to keep them

from falling. For that, he needed privacy, which he didn’t have and
couldn’t afford. If he needed to grieve, he would do that later. Now
he just needed to act. If that action came to naught, he would only
grieve long enough to put the bullets in his gun.

Pushing aside that morbid thought, he made himself a promise.

When… when they freed Bart, when he was safe and they were
alone, Jake would tell him the truth. Jake would tell Bart how
much he meant to him, how much he was needed, how much he
was loved. Jake didn’t know how Bart would react to that, whether
he could ever see Jake as more than just a friend, but he felt Bart
had a right to know he made this major’s life worth living.

If nothing else came of it, at least Bart would know. He was an

open, understanding man. Bart would never turn away from an
admission of love. He may not return it, but he would never
denigrate it.

Another fear did raise its ugly head, though—how would Bart

feel if he was seriously hurt because Jake had persuaded him to
stay and work on that report? This was one answer he wasn’t quite
as sure of. What he did know was that if he’d caused Bart any
suffering, if he needed help, looking after anything, then Jake was

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prepared to do whatever it took.

Jake noted that Holgate was speaking to Banks again and he

wished they would just get on with it. As if the man had heard him,
Holgate turned.

“I’m dividing the team into two. Section one under my

command is going to level nine and attempting to get into Major
Archer’s office from above through the already damaged floor and
ceiling. It will be a precarious situation and I need specialists.

“Section two will attempt to get into the office from level ten,

from the west side of the corridor nearest the major’s office.
Section two will be under the command of Lieutenant Garber in
whose competence I have full confidence.”

Holgate paused and looked directly at Jake. “It’s going to be

delicate work and everyone must follow engineering instructions
precisely.”

“You have my word, Holgate.”
“And mine,” added Carl, accompanied by a nod from Delia.
“Sir!” Sergeant Eisley confirmed.
“Good.”
Jake was ready. He was an expert at threat assessment and

forward planning. He had assessed and planned for every
eventuality—the first step was to locate and extricate Bart. The
next step would depend on his condition.

Jake accepted that his life depended on Bart’s—in more ways

than one.

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

CHAPTER 5

Slowly Bart’s memory resurfaced. First, he knew he was in an

underground complex and, like the light that had flickered on
behind him for a few short seconds, his own understanding slowly
illuminated. He was in the underground base. For a moment, he
thought it was his own office, but what little he had managed to see
convinced him he was wrong. So where was he? He tried to think
back. His last clear memory was of Jake… somewhere.

Jake. Somehow Jake had something to do with it, but he

couldn’t pull in the memory. Okay, think about Jake—his best
friend, his commanding officer, and his pain in the neck. The love
of his life but, of course, that was his secret. Where had he last
seen him? The medical bay? No, he had seen him since then, if
only he could— Of course, the commissary where they’d had

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lunch, all five of them. Delia, Ron and Carl had left early. Why?
Why? He felt that mattered. They had been laughing. Well, Delia
and Ron had; Carl just raised his eyebrow with that little lift of his
upper lip, but Bart had known a laugh when he saw one. And Delia
had wished him good luck. What for? Damn, he needed to
remember and this headache was… What he wouldn’t give for one
of Dr. Walden’s pills right now.

Concentrate! Good luck—Delia wished him good luck. With

Jake. Ah, that usually meant Jake was up to no good. Something
that would bite Bart in the ass or something that would cost him.
Oh, nothing serious because Jake would never go too far, though
his definition of that was not always the same as Bart’s. What was
it? What had he wanted?

That was it; he’d wanted Bart to do something. But not at

lunch. No, during lunch he had just talked… talked about… talked
about… What the hell had they talked about?

The concert! Jake was due to perform a solo in tonight’s

concert and he had been excited about it. Bart couldn’t help but
smile at the memory of Jake’s enthusiasm. No wonder the others
had left. The realization hit Bart then that, whatever had happened,
Jake was safe somewhere above.

That was all well and good, but how did it help him now? He

still had no idea where he was or how he’d got there. Suddenly, he
had a recollection of a loud noise and the sensation of falling. He
remembered the taste of fear. An explosion! He’d been caught in an
explosion.

The lights sputtered fitfully again and in the dim flickering Bart

saw something he recognized. Everything clicked into place and he
knew where he was. Lying only a few feet away, its frame and
glass shattered, was the photograph of Jake shaking hands with

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

General Banks after the presentation of his medal. It was usually
displayed on the wall in the major’s office. Now he remembered.
He’d been doing a favor for Jake and, while he was in his office,
something had happened to cause an explosion and he was now
trapped in the remains of it.

Bart closed his eyes against the stark reminder of his situation

and sighed at the thought people would be working hard to free
him and anyone else who had been caught up in whatever disaster
had befallen the underground base.

Then, out of the blue, he realized that no one knew he was here.

* * *

Dr. Ira Walden moved away from the bed of Lieutenant Porter,

a rather lucky young woman he thought absently as he turned to
see who needed him next. His eyes fell on General Banks, who
was doing a tour of the facility checking on the injured. He was a
good commander, one of the very best Ira had ever served with.
Just then, the general looked up and caught his eye, and Ira swiftly
crossed over to speak with him.

“General, I’m pleased to report everything is under control,” he

reported formally. “The most seriously injured suffered from crush
injuries, and Dr. Lewison is performing the necessary surgeries.
We also have one severe burn case, but most of the others were
much less severe, broken bones and two minor burn cases. How
many more are still trapped?”

“There are two trapped on nine and we don’t have confirmation

yet, but Captain Hilton is still missing and he was last seen on level
ten.”

“Bart?” he asked, eyes wide. “Wait, level ten? Why would Bart

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

be there? If you had said eight I could understand.”

“Apparently, he was going to Major Archer’s office.”
“God, is he missing, too?”
“No, no, the major was off duty at the time. It seems Captain

Hilton was assisting him with some paperwork and he might have
gone to the major’s office for some information.”

Ira read between the lines, knowing the close friendship

between the two men and he could imagine how the major had
probably persuaded Bart to help him with whatever it was, and he
could also imagine how he would be feeling now. “Where’s the
major now, sir?”

“He and the rest of Bart’s team are involved in the rescue

attempt.”

“I trust they find Bart safe and well.”
“We’ll just have to hope, doctor.”

* * *

Jake followed closely behind Garber as they climbed over the

rubble in what had once been the corridor not far from his office.
Garber had already been down there and a team had partially
cleared a path. The lieutenant told Jake the whole corridor was
blocked because part of the ceiling had come down when level
nine collapsed and they had cleared the way to just short of where
his office had been. The more he learned from the lieutenant, the
more afraid Jake became for Bart. The less belief he had that his
friend could still be alive.

A hand fell heavily on his forearm and, without looking, he

knew who it was. “Have faith, Major. Don’t assume the worst.”

He wasn’t surprised Carl knew what he was thinking. “It’s not

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easy. You really think he could be alive under all that?”

“I believe it’s possible,” Carl said.
Jake stared at the lieutenant and nodded his acknowledgement,

though his only respite would be in seeing Bart safe and sound.

Delia stepped forward, brandishing a thermal camera. She was

saying something about how she had got it, but all he cared about
was that it would help find Bart quicker.

“Yes, yes.” She talked to herself as she aimed the device in the

direction of what should have been his office, moving it in tiny
incremental arcs. “Yes,” she reported, “there’s definitely a live one
about twelve meters in that direction.” She pointed, a hopeful smile
lighting up her face.

Relief poured through Jake that someone was alive in there.

The odds were very high it was Bart. The hard part now was
finding a way to get him out.

Lieutenant Garber had instructed the two engineers to lead the

volunteers in clearing the debris to find a way into the major’s
office. It was laborious work, but everyone pitched in without
comment.

Garber approached what resembled a small hill of broken

concrete slabs intersected by metal beams and snaking electrical
cables. The cables had been pulled to one side and fastened off;
power to the area had been isolated and emergency generators
were in use, but it still paid to be careful for the safety of the rescue
workers. The lieutenant began to climb—cautiously as some of the
chunks of masonry shifted precariously as he moved.

He was halfway to the top when Pearson, one of the engineers,

said, “Lieutenant, just got a message from Colonel Holgate.”

Jake swung toward the man, praying for good news.
Pearson continued, “The attempt to break through from level

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nine has been abandoned as being far too dangerous. The colonel
reports any such endeavor would just bring the rest of nine
crashing down onto level ten.”

“Damn it!” Jake cursed.
“It might be for the best, Major,” Garber said. “I think we have

a better chance of reaching him anyway.”

“And we don’t have to worry about that lot bringing the ceiling

down on us,” Pearson muttered.

Jake noted the grin passed between Garber and Pearson and

wondered what they knew that he didn’t.

Garber resumed the climb and, once at the top, he turned back.
“This is where the problem starts; we have to get past this

without disturbing that.” He pointed at the remnants of the
ceiling—Or was it the floor of level nine?—still perilously hanging
overhead. “That means finding a way through without disturbing
any more of this.” He looked directly at Jake. “Your office should
be no more than six or eight feet from here, sir. I’m going to try
and break through.”

Jake made to speak, and Garber cut him off. “It’s too

dangerous for more than one person at a time to work up here, sir.
Just give me a little time to see what I can do.”

Jake wasn’t happy to stand by and wait, but he trusted Garber’s

expertise. He watched as the man moved very economically,
shifting pieces of building material to one side with care until he
stopped to study the situation again. To Jake, he seemed to be
moving in slow motion. Just when Jake thought he couldn’t wait
another second, Garber turned to him.

“If you’d assist me now, sir?” Garber asked. “I need to move

this next section and it’s more delicate.”

Jake was up there before Garber had finished speaking, and

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

still remembering to move carefully, he stopped just below the
lieutenant. Garber handed him pieces of debris, and he leaned to
pass it to Lieutenant Bradley, who reached up to take it from him,
passing it on along the human chain that had formed below him.
While Jake worked, time seemed to slow as he imagined Bart
trapped and in agony amongst this rubble. He welcomed the
roughened, sharp pieces of stone and metal as it abraded and cut
into the palms of his hands, the pain reminding him of his guilt. He
felt that each fresh pain was due punishment for his
irresponsibility, for failing to finish his work and expecting
someone else to do it in his stead.

After what seemed an age, but was really little more than ten

minutes, Garber stopped. He stood back and raised a hand for them
to stop. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his flashlight, which
he shone into the pile of rubble.

“I think I’ve found a way through.” Garber looked back at Jake

and then he turned and spoke to one of the other engineers.
“Pearson, pass me the big flashlight.” His colleague sent up one of
the powerful heavy-duty lights and Garber shone it into the pile of
rubble.

Impatiently, Jake waited for his conclusion.
“There’s a beam holding this lot back,” Garber reported,

indicating what looked like a dark gash in front of him that was
little more than three feet square. He edged in a fraction, shining
his flashlight again, before backing out to explain, “There’s a kind
of narrow tunnel and I can see into what I believe are the remains
of your office, sir. It’s very dark, however there’s one fluorescent
tube that flickers on and off. There’s a lot of damage, but I could
see filing cabinets and I think I saw part of your desk.”

“No sign of Bart?” Delia asked, and Jake was grateful to her

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

for asking.

“Sorry, no, but there’s a lot of debris in there.”
“You can’t call to see if Bart answers?” Ron asked.
“No, I don’t want to risk too much sudden sound, not only from

me but from Captain Hilton if he shouts back a reply.”

“Right.”
“I can help guide you once you’re through, Lieutenant,” Delia

commented.

Garber switched on his comm before saying, “I’m going

through here now. Give me a minute or two, then follow me”—he
eyed each person in turn—“but one at a time and… carefully.”

Jake moved forward as soon as Garber had finished speaking

and watched intently as the man disappeared through the opening,
trying to see inside the dark aperture.

Garber’s soft voice came over the comm. “Even with the

flashlight, I can’t see much; dust swirling everywhere.”

Working with the thermal camera again, Delia said, keeping

her voice low, “I have you in relation to… the subject. Try about
two o’clock from your present position; say, five, six meters.”

“I think I might have a problem fitting through that narrow

gap,” Carl said. “I’ll stay topside to help with the retrieval.”

Jake nodded before pulling his flashlight from his pocket and

quickly thrusting it into the space. He had to take a breath to calm
himself and stop his hand from shaking. Unfortunately, he could
see little except the swirling dust, which must have risen in
response to the lieutenant’s movement. Delaying no longer, Jake
slid into the opening and followed Garber.

* * *

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Bart was disappointed when the light flickered out again. For a

moment it had seemed to increase in intensity, but then it had
faded and now it had gone out again.

He was just about managing to block out the pain. His

headache had faded a little and he thought he could see a little
better, though without light he couldn’t be sure. He wanted to try
calling out again, but was so dry because of all the dust that his
throat hurt.

He thought he heard a sound and a voice, but realized it was

just some more debris sliding, ratcheting up his fear. It had
happened once before—he couldn’t be sure how long ago because
his sense of time was all skewed—but he didn’t think too much
time had passed. If the ceiling or walls or whatever it was began to
slide again, he was afraid he would be buried, but this time he
wouldn’t find himself in a safe pocket like this one.

He was pretty sure Jake’s desk was behind him, preventing his

turning onto his back, but also he expected it was protecting him,
holding some of the concrete slabs at bay. He had managed to
move one arm and had felt along what he recognized as concrete.
One jagged end was only about six inches from his left shoulder
and he knew he had something to be grateful for.

There it was again, the sound of stone sliding on stone. God,

don’t let it fall again! Please, please. Then the light came on again.
No, wait, there had been none of that clicking sound and this time
the light source came from a different direction.

Then a soft voice called, “Captain Hilton, are you here?”
He closed his eyes in utter relief. “Oh, God, yes,” he whispered

back.

Silence followed. Had he imagined the voice in his

desperation?

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

“Captain Hilton?” The voice sounded confused. A familiar

voice.

Taking a breath he answered, “I’m here, Garber, here!” He still

kept his voice low.

Then he heard another voice, deep, low, husky. “Thank God!”
Jake! Jake had found him—thank God indeed! It was only then

that Bart acknowledged he’d been afraid he would never see Jake
again. He also acknowledged what a terrible waste it would have
been because Jake would never have known how much he meant
to Bart.

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

CHAPTER 6

When Jake heard Bart’s weak voice reply to Garber, he was

overwhelmed with relief. Bart was not only alive, he was aware
enough to recognize the lieutenant’s voice. Jake attempted to
clamber over the rubble toward the sound, but Garber put an arm
out to stop him.

“No, sir, wait. I know you want to get him out, but we have to

work slowly or we’ll have the whole lot down on us.”

“You’ve found him?” Ron’s quiet, hopeful voice drifted over to

them from where he had just exited the tunnel.

“Yes. Stay there for now,” Jake ordered, keeping his voice

hushed.

Jake was quiet as he watched Garber move forward, very light

on his feet for a man of his size. While he waited, Jake glanced

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

around at the remains of his office. He’d ignored it to this point,
focused as he’d been on locating Bart. He found it very difficult to
reconcile this wreckage as his office. Other than the filing cabinet,
lying on its side half under a slab of concrete, and his desk, also on
its side with only two legs visible, he could see little else that he
could identify.

That was until his flashlight reflected off some broken glass

and he peered as closely as he was able from where he crouched.
He remembered that day. The emotion that had swelled in his
chest, not pride because of the medal being pinned on his chest due
to his “act of bravery beyond the call of duty,” but utter joy and
relief that his skills had kept alive the man he now realized he
loved.

He could always replace the photograph; he had the negative

safely squared away so all it would need was a new print and a
new frame. He had a sudden image of Bart lying as broken as that
photo frame and prayed he could be put back together just as
easily.

“Garber?” he asked, his voice low and strained.
“I see his legs, sir,” Garber replied and shone his flashlight at

the far edge of Jake’s upended desk. Sure enough, a pair of black
boots and the hem of a uniform could be seen. “Just one moment.”

“D’you think you could move the light?” asked Bart in a hoarse

voice.

“Sorry,” Garber said, and Jake could actually hear the smile in

his voice. “Don’t move; we’ll get you out of there as soon as we
can.”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to,” Bart replied wearily.
“Garber?” Jake could hear how more strident his voice was this

time.

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“Come across, sir, and be careful as you round the table.

There’s a slab overhanging there that’s pretty precarious.”

Not needing to be told twice, Jake moved quickly but carefully,

taking note of Garber’s instructions and keeping a wary eye on the
disaster area above. Dust and grit fell on his head as he ducked
underneath the overhanging block until finally he saw Bart.

Bart was lying as if he had been thrown from his chair and

landed in the self-same position as he had been sitting, but which
left him twisted at an odd angle among the wreckage. However,
there was no sign of the chair. What scared Jake was that the
overhanging slab was being held off Bart by only the strong oak
table and the crisscrossing of two steel beams that had come
crashing down with the ceiling. Those beams seemed to be all that
were supporting the tons of twisted metal and chunks of concrete
resembling a giant’s jigsaw puzzle overhead.

“Is there anything… holding him in that position?” Jake asked,

terrified it would prove impossible to extricate Bart from the
concrete and metal tomb.

“I think one of the table legs may be trapping him. From what I

can see, it’s jammed into the captain’s right side,” Garber said.

There was a sudden, gruff apology as Bart moaned when the

lieutenant tried to move him fractionally to get a better look at
what was trapping him.

“Where do you hurt, Bart?” Jake asked him softly. He needed

to get closer, but Garber was in his way.

“Right side, shoulder,” Bart gasped, stopping to take a short

breath. “Head, concussion, blurry.”

“Have you tried to move your legs?” Jake asked. Bart’s legs

didn’t look injured, but he was worried about any back injury
possibly affecting the legs.

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“Too much pain in side,” Bart replied hoarsely.
“Right. Eisley,” he called as quietly as he could, “pass the

message back for some water and then come and use your medic
skills on Bart.”

“Hang on, sir,” Sergeant Eisley replied, passing the message to

Carl on the other side of the tunnel.

He slithered as carefully as he could around the obstruction

and, squeezing past the major and Garber, smiled at Bart.

“I’ll be as careful as I can, but I need to check you out.”
Bart nodded.
Eisley ran his hands over Bart’s legs and then across his

abdomen, reaching as far as he could across his body. He pulled
his hands away when Bart sucked in his breath and stiffened as
Ron touched his right side. Sergeant Eisley continued to examine
Bart’s chest and his shoulders, being very cautious how he touched
the injured shoulder before very carefully feeling up the side and
back of his neck and then moving his fingertips over Bart’s scalp.
Using his small flashlight, the sergeant peered into Bart’s ears as
best he could, then checked Bart’s eyes and nodded at what he
saw.

“Okay, Captain, I’ve finished now,” he said, and Bart sighed

with relief.

Ron backed away, brushing the dust that kept falling out of his

hair before turning to speak quietly to the major and confirm much
of what Bart himself had told Jake.

Meanwhile, Garber had contorted his body to try to get a better

look at Bart’s back. After a moment, he retreated. He bent over,
taking a few deep breaths before turning to Jake. “I got a better
look that time, sir. The table leg is jamming him against a jagged
piece of material, but it doesn’t appear to have pierced him in any

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way. The easiest thing would be to saw the wood, but the way this
is all jumbled together, even that could be risky.” He hesitated a
moment and then said, “I’m sorry, Captain Hilton, but the best way
to get you out would be to pull you; to put it bluntly, it’d be safer
to remove you from the equation than to move any of this stuff.”

“But the condition he is in, that would be agony!” Jake said

sharply.

“I’m aware of that, sir,” Garber replied calmly. He held Jake’s

stare for a split-second before he looked above them. He didn’t
need to say anything else; it was clear, even to a layman, that it
was a miracle the whole mess had not already come down.

“If it’s the only way,” Bart said, looking at Jake.
Jake saw the pain and fear in Bart’s eyes, but he also saw

resignation. He sighed and met Bart’s gaze squarely. “Just a
minute, just give me a minute,” he said quickly. Turning, he called
to Sergeant Eisley.

“Just getting the water, sir.” He took a bottle from Pearson, the

engineer. “Coming your way now, sir,” he added.

“Get the doc to that hole up there,” he instructed as he stretched

to take the water bottle from Eisley.

“Right away, sir.” His frown suggested he guessed the probable

reason for the major’s request.

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CHAPTER 7

When he got the message he was needed urgently on level ten,

Dr. Ira Walden didn’t know whether to feel relief or trepidation.
Obviously they had found Bart alive or their need wouldn’t be
urgent. Then again, if they needed him in situ, then the
presumption was he was badly injured and they didn’t want to
move him until a doctor had seen him. Otherwise, they would have
just called for a gurney.

He gathered everything he could think of and left one of the

other doctors in charge. He reported to the general on the way, to
discover he already knew they had found Bart and that he was
trapped in the wreckage of Jake’s office. When he heard they had
sent for the doctor, Banks decided to accompany him on his mercy
mission.

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* * *

Garber backed off and let the major move in closer. Jake

dribbled some water on Bart’s lips, which he sipped gratefully.
Bart had a pretty good idea why Jake had sent for Ira.

“Gonna knock me out, then?” Bart asked with the ghost of a

smile, as Jake wiped away all the dust and grime from his face,
grimacing as he passed the wet handkerchief over the tender skin
where it was scratched and scuffed.

“Be for the best, Bart,” Jake replied, reaching out to touch

Bart’s hand and giving it a small squeeze. As if to confirm his
words, there was a creaking sound from above and more dust and
grit cascaded down. Even as Jake looked up, shading his eyes from
the dirt, one of the huge stanchions shifted a fraction. He heard
Bart gasp and then cough, so turned back to him at once.

Studiously ignoring the inherent danger above him, Bart said,

“Don’t want to wake up with anything missing, though.” He
grinned, but fear gnawed at his stomach.

“No, no, don’t think like that,” Jake said. “It’s just so you

won’t feel anything when we get you out of this mess.”

Lieutenant Garber added, “Don’t you worry, Captain. It’s not

like that. Just don’t want to hurt you any more than we have to and
we need to get you out of here as soon as we can.”

“Garber, you think Carl could get in here?” Jake asked.
“Yes, sir, it’d be tight, but he could do it. Think we might need

his strength?”

“Yeah, the gentle giant,” Bart whispered.
Jake laughed softly. “I think he could make a difference.

There’s no way we could get any kind of stretcher through that
narrow passage.” Looking back over his shoulder, he said, “You

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heard that, Eisley?”

“Yes, sir. Did you ask for Carl, sir?”
“Yeah, see if he can get through, will you?”
A minute later, Ron announced, “The doc is here, sir. With the

general.”

Turning to Garber, Jake asked, “Shall we ask him to come

through or is it best if we just get advice. Ron can administer if it’s
just an injection.”

“The less people in here the better now, sir. We really just need

advice, so unless Dr. Walden insists, I recommend he stays out
there.”

“Okay, Ron, talk to the doc and give him all the details you

can. Tell him we can’t move this stuff to get Bart free because it’s
too dangerous; the roof might collapse at any moment. We can
move him, but the act of getting him out would cause a lot of lot of
pain.” He squeezed Bart’s hand again as he spoke. “So we need
something to knock him out long enough to pull him free and get
him through that tunnel.”

“Sir,” Ron replied briskly.

* * *

Ira saw Ron Eisley scramble through the hole. He passed back

orders from Major Archer for Carl to go through and assist with
getting Bart out. Ira watched as Carl carefully entered the opening,
noting his shoulders didn’t have much clearance. For such a large
man, Carl could move with consummate grace.

Ira listened carefully as Ron explained what was happening

under the rubble, grateful Bart was awake and aware, if in pain.
His immediate reaction was that he should first assess the patient,

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but he was sensible enough to understand the position Bart was in.
Also, he knew Garber was in there with Archer and it was the
lieutenant’s recommendation Ira shouldn’t enter.

“Is he lucid?” he asked Ron.
“Yes, very much so. He’s bantering with the major.” Ron

smiled, but Ira guessed it was a way of coping with the situation.

“Where is he hurt?”
Ron described the injuries in as much detail as he could, and

Ira said, “I don’t want to give him anything too strong with a
probable concussion. It won’t take long to physically pull him
out?” He hesitated, thinking for a moment, realizing he needed to
add some time to actually get him up and out through that narrow
passage.

“Right, Sergeant,” Ira said, filling a syringe and passing it over,

“this should do it. That’ll only keep him under for a maximum of
thirty minutes so don’t give it until you absolutely need to.”

“I’ll be careful,” Ron said, turning to climb the unstable pile of

rubble.

“Let him know we’re all rooting for him, Sergeant,” added

Banks.

Ron turned back to smile his acknowledgement before he

slithered back through the gap.

* * *

Bart began to feel like he was losing his grip on reality. He felt

as if he were floating and his eyelids were becoming heavy; he
knew he needed medical help and quickly. He also knew they were
doing all they could and it wouldn’t help to voice his concerns just
now.

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He bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to stay conscious.
“Bart?” Jake said, “Bart!” Now Jake was shaking his arm.

“Come on… stay with me.”

“Trying, Jake, trying. How much longer?”
“Not long now, I promise.”
“Goo… ”
“Bart!”
“Isn’t it better just to let him be, sir?” Garber asked.
“No, he might slip into a coma.”
“Couldn’t that happen anyway when we knock him out?”
“I’m trusting the doc knows the best way to put him under

safely.” He wasn’t sure why, but something told him to keep Bart
awake. Jake, recognizing Bart was trying to follow their
conversation, said, “Remember that favor I owe you? Try and
think of something really good you want from me.”

“Favor?” Bart asked, puzzled. “You owe me a favor? I don’t

remember that. Why?”

“Why? Why what?”
“Favor? Why favor?”
“Ah,” Jake said softly. He blew out a breath and said, “Because

you were helping me to write a report.”

“I was?”
Jake was saved from having to answer when Sergeant Eisley

spoke, “I’m coming around the table now, sir. I’ve got something
from Dr. Walden.”

“Good, is Carl with you?”
“I’ve been here for a few minutes, Major. I’ve been listening.”
“Right, good,” Jake said.
Moving carefully, Ron edged round the table and under the

overhanging concrete block. Jake stepped back again so the

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sergeant could squeeze past him to kneel beside Bart.

“Is everybody ready?” he asked.
Bart watched as Jake glanced at Garber for confirmation, and

when the lieutenant nodded, Jake said, “Go ahead.”

Smiling gently at Bart, Ron prepared his arm. “Don’t worry,

Bart,” he said. “Ira tells me you won’t be out for long and when
you come to, you’ll be safely out of here.”

Keeping his eyes on Ron’s face, Bart nodded. The sergeant

injected him quickly and efficiently. Bart moved his eyes to seek
out Jake. He smiled for a second before his face went slack and his
eyes slid shut.

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

CHAPTER 8

Jake sighed as Bart’s eyes closed. Ron got out of the way, and

Carl managed to squeeze himself into the narrow space beside
Jake. Garber had already arranged that everyone should leave as
soon as the captain was unconscious. It would be difficult enough
for the three of them to work in the available space.

“What do you wish me to do?” Carl asked.
“It’s just going to be a case of brute strength,” Garber said.

“He’s jammed up tight against this slab by that table leg,” he said,
pointing for Carl’s benefit. “I’ll stand by ready to pull his legs,
while you and the major handle his upper half. You’ll see what you
need to do,” he added as he exchanged places with Jake.

When they were in position, Jake hunkered down on his

haunches as Garber got a good grip on Bart’s ankles. Then Carl

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braced himself against the concrete slab behind and at the side of
Bart. Meeting Jake’s eyes, Carl nodded and took a firm hold under
Bart’s arms, being especially careful of the shoulder, which
appeared dislocated. Jake maneuvered one arm underneath Bart’s
lower back with the other across his chest ensuring the best grip.
They were now ready to maneuver Bart out horizontally toward
Jake.

When everyone was ready Garber said firmly, “Now!” and they

strained to pull Bart free.

For a second, there seemed to be no movement, and Jake was

afraid it wasn’t going to work. He strained, trying to tug even
harder, grateful Bart was unconscious because the way Jake was
holding him, he was sure he was hurting Bart’s injured side. The
tendons stood out on Carl’s neck with the effort to release his
friend, then Bart popped free, like a cork from a bottle. Jake almost
fell as Garber yanked sharply on Bart’s ankles.

“Whoa!” Jake said trying to regain his grip on Bart as Carl also

shifted his hold for greater stability. “Garber, can you go on ahead
and warn the Doc while Carl and I bring him around the table?”

They would have to ease him past the obstacle, and Jake moved

to take Bart’s ankles, while Carl kept hold of his upper body. As
they approached the tunnel, Carl turned slightly to make it easier to
lift up Bart.

It worked remarkably well and in less time than Jake expected,

Carl was lifting Bart up to his team leader so he could carefully
pull the unconscious man through the narrow opening with Carl
pushing him from behind. Ron’s willing hands helped to pull him
and his precious cargo through the other end. Between them, they
made their unsteady way down the rubble slope toward Walden,
who waited impatiently below for them. General Banks was there,

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too, anxious to see what condition Bart was in.

As soon as they placed Bart on the gurney, Walden’s careful

hands checked him over for injuries.

Once Jake saw him in the bright light of the corridor, he

noticed all the scratches and bruises over Bart’s face and frowned
when he saw the extensive abrasions around his left eye.

* * *

“Doctor?” the general questioned, seeming as impatient as

Bart’s team members, who were all clustered around as close as
they could get.

Ira looked up, ready to tell them to wait until he had more time

for assessment, but on seeing their concern, his expression
softened. “Well, from a very cursory examination, I would say he
has a dislocated shoulder and a head injury, which, thankfully,
looks minor, though a CT scan will confirm that. He also has
extensive bruising and deep abrasions to the right side of his back.
I also expect he has a lot more that I’m sure I’ll find on a fuller
examination.”

“Doc? What about his eyes?” Jake queried. “He said something

about his eyesight, but he thought it was probably due to the
concussion. But that”—he indicated the left eye—“looks nasty.”

The doctor took another quick look at Bart’s eyes. “It looks

worse than it is, and I can see no obvious damage to his eyes.” He
wasn’t surprised when Jake breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me … ” Ira indicated the waiting medics

who swiftly wheeled the gurney away.

“Sir?” he heard Jake ask.
“Go on, Major, and keep an eye on him,” Banks replied. “I

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think we can leave this in the hands of the engineers now that
everyone is accounted for.”

* * *

Jake sat by Bart’s bedside following the treatment to put his

dislocated shoulder back in. Dr. Walden had thoroughly examined
his other injuries and declared he had been very lucky. Bart’s back
and side were severely bruised, but there were no injuries to his
internal organs. He would be very sore for a while, though the
sling immobilizing his shoulder should help. His concussion
proved to be mild and the cause of Bart’s temporary troublesome
eyesight. The abrasions on his face would heal and leave no
scarring.

Part of Jake, the military part, wanted to know what the hell

had happened, but he trusted the general and the engineers to find
out the answers. Most of his thoughts, and all his emotions, were
wrapped up in the man in the bed. He reached out and gently
stroked Bart’s hand where it lay on top of the covers. The medical
bay was, of necessity, busy, but Ira, or maybe one of the nurses,
had pulled the curtain around Bart’s bed, giving them at least the
illusion of privacy.

Strange, he thought, as he took a firm hold of Bart’s hand. He’d

sat here just like this on previous occasions, but this time, knowing
he’d soon confess to Bart what he held in his heart, it felt almost
erotic. Guiltily, he let go of the younger man’s hand when the
curtain swished open, but before he realized no one knew what was
going on inside his head. Picking up Bart’s hand again, he turned
to see Ira Walden standing behind him.

“Major.” Dr. Walden nodded, moving closer to check his

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patient’s vitals. “You look exhausted. Bart will sleep for a while
longer yet, so why don’t you go and get some rest, come back in
the morning.”

He put a hand under Jake’s arm as if to help him rise, but the

major said, “No, I need to be here when he wakes.” He never took
his eyes from the sleeping man.

After a moment’s deliberation the doctor’s frown cleared, as if

he understood. “You want to apologize.” It wasn’t a question.

“He deserves one,” Jake said softly.
“Do you really think he’ll believe that?”
Jake gave a crooked smile. “Probably not, but I need to tell

him.”

Walden stared at him for a second, nodded and, giving Jake’s

arm a lingering squeeze, he left him, pulling the curtain closed
behind him.

Jake turned his full attention back to his friend, who looked

peaceful with his eyes closed and a relaxed expression on his face.
Jake shivered inwardly as an image of the trapped Bart, eyes
screwed up against the pain, dust drifting down from above in a
parody of soil being thrown onto a grave, assaulted his mind’s eye.
He silently thanked a God, who during less desperate times he
claimed to no longer believe in, that Bart had not only survived but
was going to be fine.

The realization hit him that he, too, had been saved for he truly

believed he would never have survived Bart’s death. Not now.

Bart grew restless, moving under the covers and muttering

unintelligibly. Jake rose and put his free hand on Bart’s forehead,
brushing the hair back and murmuring to him. Just simple words of
comfort, letting his voice drift over Bart, hoping it would calm him
enough to allow him to slip back into the realms of sleep.

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Eventually, Bart stilled and relaxed again.

As Jake sat back in the chair, he was aware he was no longer

alone.

“Major,” Banks said, keeping his voice pitched low, “I hear

Captain Hilton is doing well.”

Thinking perhaps the general wanted him to leave his friend’s

bedside, Jake turned to his commanding officer and said, “Yes, sir.
Dr. Walden says he will be in some pain, but his injuries are not
life threatening. However, I would like—”

With a smile, Banks interrupted him. “You want to stay with

him until he wakes. I know. Dr. Walden keeps me well informed. I
just thought you should know it appears we were mistaken in our
belief that the explosion occurred in the armory.”

“What?” Jake frowned.
“True, it’s early days yet, but Colonel Holgate managed to

break through to the armory and make the area safe enough for a
quick investigation. The munitions experts came to the surprising
conclusion that, though an explosion had occurred there, it was not
the seat of the disaster. Apparently that explosion was set off by a
prior one in the lab next door where the two technicians were
killed.”

Jake’s eyes had widened during the general’s explanation. “Are

they suggesting whatever the technicians were working on set off
the explosion?” he queried.

“It would seem so, though they need more time for a definitive

conclusion.” The general strode around to the foot of Bart’s bed
and stared at the captain for a moment before continuing. “Far too
often we deal with things of which we know too little.”

“Yes, sir. Sometimes I’m glad I don’t understand all the stuff

we find, but when things like this happen… ” He tailed off.

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“There is a briefing at oh-eight-hundred hours you need to

attend, Major. Hopefully by then we’ll have some hard information
about what caused all this and took the lives of two good men.”

“Yes, sir.” Jake readily agreed, recognizing he had already

stretched the general’s indulgence.

“I will leave you now. Let me know when he’s awake. I’d like

to speak to him.”

“Of course, sir, and thank you for keeping me up to date.”
Taking hold of Bart’s hand again, Jake listened as the general’s

footsteps faded. He realized, for the first time since Ira had left,
how much quieter it was in the medical bay. He looked at his
wristwatch and saw it was oh-three-hundred hours.

A low moan broke his concentration. He looked over at Bart

just as another moan escaped his lips while he tossed his head on
the pillow. Jake moved closer to the bed, leaning over him.

“Wake up, Bart,” Jake said softly close to Bart’s ear. “Come

on… show me those eyes of yours.”

Bart turned toward the voice and murmured something, but

Jake couldn’t make out the words.

“Bart, it’s Jake. Can you hear me?” He brushed his hand

against Bart’s cheek. “Bart, open your eyes; look at me. You’re
safe now.” He kept his voice low and even and kept up the litany
until it seemed that Bart was slowly waking up. Jake debated
calling Walden, but he knew the doctor was exhausted and decided
to wait until Bart was fully awake in case he was mistaken.

“J’ke?” Bart croaked.
“That’s my boy,” Jake said. He reached over and picked up the

cup of ice chips left by one of the nurses in case Bart woke up. He
slipped a couple of chips between Bart’s lips before pressing the
bell to call for a nurse.

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In no time at all, Dr. Walden appeared and examined Bart.
“You’re looking much better, Bart,” Ira said. “Can you tell me

how you came to be my patient this time?”

“Yeah,” Bart replied, his voice a little hoarse but strong. “I was

trapped in Jake’s office. An explosion, I think.”

“Why were you in the major’s office?”
Bart frowned a moment, then said, “I was looking up

something. I can’t remember exactly what… but it’ll come, I’m
sure.”

“Probably, but don’t worry about it. There’s no cause for

concern; such confusion is perfectly normal. Just give yourself
some time.”

The doctor gave him some more ice chips, turned to Jake and

said, “You can resume your seat now, Major.”

A much-relieved Jake sat next to Bart again. He had

shamelessly listened to Ira’s conversation with Bart and now, as
the doctor turned to leave, he said, “Close the curtain on your way
out, Doc.”

The doctor harrumphed, but complied, and Jake grinned

conspiratorially at Bart.

“You’ll probably pay for that, Jake.” Bart smiled back at him.
Jake shrugged. “Now, how do you really feel, and I don’t want

to hear anything remotely like ‘I’m okay.’”

“You want the bald truth, eh?” Bart smiled.
For once, Jake wasn’t smiling. “Yes, I do.”

* * *

Recognizing the change in Jake’s mood, Bart struggled to sit

up straighter against his pillows, and Jake couldn’t help but lean in

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

closer to help him. When Jake was almost eye-to-eye with him,
Bart realized that his friend was avoiding eye contact.

“What is it, Jake?” he asked.
Jake froze, just for a second, but to one who knew him so well,

it was telling. “I am so sorry, Bart,” Jake began quietly, eyes
shifting to meet Bart’s. “This was all my fault and I can’t tell you
how sorry I am that you were hurt.”

Bart grimaced and said casually, “Well, that’s different, ’cause

it’s usually my fault.” As Jake made to answer, Bart went on,
“Come on, Jake, you gotta give me something to go on, my whole
evening—hell, my whole day—is kinda hazy. Remind me, would
you?”

Bart was surprised to see a flush of color wash over Jake’s

face, then leech away, leaving him unusually pale. “Jake?” he said,
worried.

The major took a deep breath and began to recount the day to

his friend. Bits and pieces dropped into place for Bart. Jake was
brutally honest, and Bart was quick to realize Jake was blaming
himself for the unhappy chance that found him in the major’s
office at the fateful moment of the explosion.

“Jake, please, it was never your intention that I should go to

your office and, unless you caused the explosion, I don’t think you
can claim it was your fault in any way, shape or form. I don’t hold
you responsible, so please don’t take this on your shoulders.”

Jake stared at Bart, who met his gaze squarely before smiling

and adding, “Of course, I won’t let you renege on that favor you
owe me!”

Jake laughed, his shoulders dropped and he sat back in the

chair. “Damn, I don’t know what the hell I would’ve done if
anything had happened to you,” he said without thinking.

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Bart sighed and said softly, “Miss me, I guess?”
Jake’s head shot up, and Bart was shocked at the lost

expression on Jake’s face before he dropped his gaze.

Bart frowned, but couldn’t figure out Jake’s problem since Bart

found his head was filling up with cotton wool. Without realizing
what was happening, he slid lower down the bed, under the covers.

Hearing his movement, Jake glanced up and saw how tired Bart

looked. “You need to rest. Go back to sleep. I’ll stay as long as I
can, but if you wake and I’m not here, I’ve got to attend a briefing
with the general. Carl, Ron or Delia will stop by later.”

Still wondering about the look that had passed over Jake’s face,

Bart just nodded and allowed his eyes to slide shut.

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

CHAPTER 9

Bart awoke again and looked around for Jake, but he was

nowhere to be seen. Surprisingly, neither was Carl, Ron nor Delia.
He worried for a moment that perhaps something else bad had
happened, but then he saw Ira Walden briskly walking past the foot
of his bed.

“Doc?” he called, his voice husky.
He stopped immediately and moved to his bedside. “Bart.” Ira

smiled and passed him a beaker of water. “Just sips,” he instructed.

“I know.”
“Yep,” Ira said with a shake of the head, “you know the routine

as well as I do by now. Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I’m okay. My head is clearer, though my shoulder

aches and my side hurts like a bitch!”

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“Know who you hang out with,” he groused.
“Speaking of the loquacious major, where is he?”
“Still in the briefing with the general.”
“The rest of the team, too?”
“Delia was called to her lab, or maybe I should say to one of

the labs still standing on level nine. Sergeant Eisley had to report
for duty some time ago. Carl was called to the briefing room only a
few minutes ago. He’d been sitting with you since the major left.”

Bart nodded and grimaced fractionally.
“Still got a headache then?”
“A little,” he replied.
“So not okay then?” Ira raised an eyebrow.
“You know the routine, too.” Bart laughed.
Ira smiled a moment, then allowed it to fade. “Do you

remember much?”

“Of the actual explosion? Not really. I have some vague…

images in my head. Jake filled me in what happened before, and I
remember most of the rescue, or I think I do, but the actual
incident? That’s vague. I remember floating, which doesn’t make
much sense. I clearly remember landing ’cause it hurt like hell.
Otherwise, until I heard Garber’s voice it’s just jumbled, hazy.”

“So the major told you everything?” Ira asked.
“Yes, he seemed to think he was in some way responsible for

what happened to me. I told him that wasn’t true.”

“I told him you wouldn’t blame him,” Ira said under his breath,

but Bart heard anyway.

“He told you?”
“Not the details, but then he didn’t need to. I know him as well

as I know you.” There was no conceit in the statement, just simple
truth. “He did tell me he needed to apologize to you.”

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* * *

Jake sat stiffly in his seat, attempting to listen to Colonel

Holgate’s report as he explained the plan for clearing the damaged
areas and the necessary rebuilding. It became apparent during his
team’s investigations that the way the rooms were laid out on those
floors added to the problem, in particular the large open spaces
used by the labs. Holgate reported it was unlikely the floors and
the ceilings of the levels concerned would have collapsed if the
explosion had taken place in another area of the base.

The colonel’s words only added to Jake’s feeling of fate

conspiring against him and a vague feeling of the inevitability of
yet another failure. He was desperate to get back to the medical
bay; he needed nothing more at that moment than to see Bart’s
blue eyes staring back at him.

He forced himself to pay attention to the discussion. It would

take quite some time to clear and repair those sections of the three
floors, and Banks was trying to work out how they could keep up
normal operations during the rebuilding. Besides the armory, they
had lost four labs, one of them medical, an isolation unit and six
offices.

Major Prince, the munitions expert, reported next and he

confirmed that the seat of the explosion had been at the bench the
two technicians had been working on in the lab next door to the
armory. He couldn’t state exactly what had caused it, but it had
been powerful enough to set off a secondary explosion in the
armory.

The two technicians who had been killed, one man and one

woman, were both well known to Delia and often worked with her
and Bart.

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“Captain Edson is checking with their supervisor what Salket

and Merryson were supposed to be working on,” Banks
commented.

For a moment a sudden flare of anger at these two technicians

he hardly knew distracted Jake. If they’d been doing something
they shouldn’t have and it had caused… He took a breath. He
knew he was having an emotional rather than logical reaction and
he needed to get control of himself. The sooner this damn briefing
was over the better. If there wasn’t action he could take—and that
was looking less and less likely—then all he wanted was to be with
Bart.

“Very well, gentleman, until Captain Edson gives me her

report, that avenue of investigation is at a standstill. Colonel
Holgate, if you’ll commence work based on your
recommendations and give me a more acceptable timetable… ”

Holgate squared his shoulders and nodded.
“Major Prince, would you liaise with Captain Edson and see if

you can reach a consensus?”

“Sir,” Prince replied formally.
“Dismissed.”
“If you don’t object, sir, I would like return to the medical bay

and see how Bart is progressing?”

“Ten minutes, Major. We all have our hands full with the

reorganization of personnel and space, and this whole investigation
has a long way to go yet.”

* * *

Bart tried to settle a little more comfortably, but no matter

which way he turned, he hurt. It was probably time for more

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painkillers and he couldn’t decide which was worse, the aches and
pains or the fuzzy feeling he got from the drugs. Bart wished
someone would come and visit, spend a little time with him to take
his mind off his problems.

Be honest, he told himself, you want to see Jake. With a chill it

occurred that it could so easily have been Jake lying injured, and
Bart knew he would rather be in the bed than sitting in that hard
chair, waiting and worrying.

Doctor Walden was being very particular that he must rest, lie

back and take it easy. He didn’t even like Bart reading, not that he
could hold a book without difficulty with his arm in a sling. He
tried putting one on his over-bed tray, but leaning forward to read
caused his side to ache. The doctor suggested he wait until
someone could read to him.

Unfortunately, the nurses were busy with the other injured

personnel and his teammates were busy with either the
investigation or the repairs to the facility. It seemed hours since
anyone had visited. His last visitor had, in fact, been Jake that
morning as soon as the briefing was over. Jake filled him in on
what had been discovered, but had to leave the medical bay all too
soon and return to his duties.

Bart closed his eyes and thumped his head back against his

pillows, perturbed even that wasn’t satisfying as they were too soft.

“Someone’s frustrated,” an amused voice said, and Bart’s eyes

flew open even as he smiled.

“Jake,” he said, eyeing the tray the major carried. “What have

you got there?”

“Lunch… kinda late ’cause I’ve been busy. Wanna share?”
“What kind of question is that? Medical bay food is even worse

than commissary food.”

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That became the beginning of a pattern. Over the next few

days, Jake would drop in whenever he had a few minutes to spare,
just to keep Bart abreast of what was going on. It soon became
clear it would take some time to complete the repairs. Apparently,
though, the general, with Jake’s help, had worked out a program
whereby they could almost carry on as normal.

Jake continued to bring a tray at lunch and another one at

dinner. Ira turned a blind eye to this breach of protocol as Bart
improved much from these impromptu visits. Ira was, however,
quick to comment he was watching and made sure Jake brought
mostly healthy choices. Ira deftly removed a chocolate pudding
Jake tried to slip past him one evening.

On the second evening, when Delia joined them for dinner,

Jake sat back and watched them as they batted ideas back and
forth. Bart sensed Jake was on edge, but couldn’t work out why.

Jake would keep Bart company for an hour or so after dinner

each evening, and usually another member of their team would try
to join them. Jake also took to calling in early in the morning
before he reported for duty. It seemed Jake kept longer hours than
even Ira these days.

Bart enjoyed Jake’s visits more than he could ever say. He

counted the hours until lunch or dinner, and every time someone
walked into the medical bay, he would look up, hoping it was Jake.

At first, Bart thought Jake’s visits were prompted by guilt, but

slowly he realized Jake wanted to spend time with him, and on a
couple of occasions, he seemed put out when a third person joined
them.

They were sharing lunch on the fifth day following the disaster

and Jake was telling Bart the latest news from the investigation.
The major was clearly angry and making no attempt to hide it.

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“The stupid man didn’t seem to—”
“Jake,” Bart interrupted, “that stupid man paid for his mistake

with his life.”

“Okay, okay, but it was a ridiculous reason to do what he did!”
Jake had explained to Bart how the technician Salket had been

determined to make a good impression on Captain Edson. It
seemed the man kept a detailed journal in his locker and he’d made
repeated reference to his attraction to the captain and how he
wanted to capture her attention.

“Yeah, I know what that can be like,” Bart said, not noticing

Jake’s frown.

“What do you mean?” Jake asked.
“What? Oh, I… I just meant I know how hard it is to attract the

one you… ” Bart’s voice was low, almost husky, but when he
caught Jake’s expression, Bart dropped his gaze, embarrassed.

Jake continued to explain that Salket thought the easiest way to

impress Captain Edson was with his technological brilliance. So
he’d devised a plan to combine the alien power source Delia had
found nearly a year ago, for which she was still trying to find a
positive application, with an unstable but potentially powerful
element that had been discovered on a recent survey.

Instead there had been, to quote Major Prince, “An unexpected

reaction.”

Jake snorted. “Unexpected! Even I know you don’t combine

two such dangerous elements.” He smiled, but it never reached his
eyes, which seemed hard and flinty as he went on, “I can’t help but
wonder what on earth Delia was doing to allow one of the
technicians so much latitude; she should know better, she ought
to—”

“Jake,” interrupted a frowning Bart, “do you blame Delia for

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this?”

Jake stopped cold. “Not blame exactly,” he said. “I just… I

don’t like that you… Shit!”

“Jake, you can’t hold Delia accountable for—”
“Major Archer,” a nurse interrupted from the foot of the bed.
“Yes?”
“The general has sent a message that he requires your

attendance on level nine immediately.”

“Thank you.”
Jake looked uncomfortable as he turned back to Bart and said,

“I’ll see you later.”

Bart watched him leave and knew he was missing something.

There was no reason for Jake to hold Delia accountable; she had no
control over what another person thought or planned inside his
own head. Bart had never known Jake to be so unjust, especially
not with a member of his own team. God, the man fought tooth and
nail for his team. He would never… Unless it was for a member of
his team—for Bart.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Jake’s behavior ever since the

incident, his attentiveness, his proprietary attitude; he really hadn’t
liked it when their one-on-one had been interrupted by one of the
others. He had sat back quietly and listened, but he hadn’t
participated. At the time, Bart had just put it down to Jake
watching—he always enjoyed watching out for his team. No, damn
it—he always enjoyed watching me.

Sliding down comfortably into his bed, Bart smiled. He knew

what he had to do. First order of business was to get out of here.
He heard Ira’s distinctive footsteps and, though he couldn’t see
through the almost closed curtain, he called his name.

“Yes, Bart?” Ira said, sweeping the drape aside.

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Baldly, Bart said, “I want to be discharged.”
“We’ve been through this before, Bart. You’re much improved

but I—”

“What if I promise faithfully to behave? Follow your every

instruction to the letter.” Ira opened his mouth to protest, and Bart
ploughed on. “I’m sure I’ll have lots of company dropping in.”

Doctor Walden studied him, and Bart met his gaze. “I suppose

you expect the major to drop in on you at home the same as he
does here?” he asked and when Bart nodded, he went on, “Except
he won’t be able to just pop up to your quarters the way he can into
medical bay. Don’t play games with me, Bart.”

“I’m not! I know and I didn’t mean that.” Bart was

exasperated. “As I said, I’ll do just what you say. I want this damn
sling off! Besides, I have bridges to build with Jake.”

“You seem to be getting on really well as it is.” Doctor Walden

frowned.

“Yeah, maybe, but I don’t think Jake is. He’s holding back. I

don’t want him carrying guilt around with him over this.”

He regarded Bart again. “Very well, I’ll trust you, but don’t let

me down. I’ll have you back in this bed before you can finish
apologizing.”

Bart nodded, knowing a threat when he heard one.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Jake arrived, smiling broadly and

carrying a lunch tray.

“Er, Jake, what’s with the sandwiches?” asked Bart, grinning.
“Better than anything they’ve got in the commissary.” He

shrugged.

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“Only you—”
Bart knew Jake was attempting to ignore their conversation

from that morning and he had no intention of pushing things—not
yet anyway.

Jake started to tell him an amusing story about an argument

between a couple of engineers, but Bart interrupted him.

“Jake, the doc says I can get out of here this afternoon. Had to

promise to be on my best behavior, though, and obey every rule.”

Jake cocked his head to one side and a slow grin formed. “And

he bought that?”

“I did kinda tell him you’d keep on eye on me when you

weren’t on duty. That okay with you?”

“Of course, you know I’ll always take care of you.” Suddenly,

he frowned, “You do, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know.” Bart smiled.

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

CHAPTER 10

About half an hour before he was due to go home, Delia came

for a visit. Bart could tell from her body language that she wasn’t
happy. She smiled at him, but it was a poor attempt.

“Delia?” he said, concerned.
“Got a meeting with Major Prince in a little while and I heard

from Major Archer that you’re being discharged.”

“You can drop by whenever you have some free time; you’re

always welcome.”

“Thanks, but I know the major is going to be there most of the

time so I’m not sure that’s wise.” Bart was about to protest when
she continued, “The major seems… irritated with me and it’s
pretty obvious why.”

“It is?”

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

“It’s no secret Salket was trying to impress me with his

experiment—not that I had any idea at the time. The major’s not
said anything specific, but I know he holds me partly responsible
for what happened to you.”

Bart sighed. “No, he doesn’t. At least, not really. Truth is he

still feels a bit guilty that I was in his office. Oh, I’ve told him he
shouldn’t,” he added when Delia was going to comment, “but you
know Jake; even when we’re home, we’re still his responsibility.”

She smiled, but said sadly, “I think I may have lost my

membership to the club.”

“Delia, Delia, he’s hurting so he’s lashing out. If Salket was

here, he’d be the target, only, of course, he isn’t, and I’m sorry to
say that makes you the easy one.”

She stared at him for a moment. “Why, Bart? I mean, why is it

wrong to strive for something, to reach out beyond what we …
what I know?”

“I think I’m the last person you should be asking,” he

answered. Bart reached out and took her hand. “It’s not wrong in
and of itself. I think the problem arises when you make it the entire
focus of your life.”

“Are you talking about me or you?” She gave a wan smile.
His laughter was soft. “Both I guess, but it doesn’t mean we

can’t change, can’t find something, someone else to focus our
attention on.”

Eyes widening, she pressed the issue. “Bart?”
He just smiled and said, “Go, hurry. You’ll be late, and I have

to get ready to go home.”

* * *

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

He and Bart had just enjoyed a satisfying meal and Jake was…

content—the perfect word in all of its connotations to describe his
mood.

Bart was sprawled on the sofa, a smile curving his lips.
“What are you smiling at?” Jake asked from the armchair near

the fireplace.

“I’m happy.”
“Really? Just a good meal and a comfy sofa is all it takes?”

Jake grinned.

“And the most important ingredient, the company.”
“Oh, right… thanks.” Jake leaned back, feeling warm, but not

from the fire.

“Of course, there is one thing missing,” Bart said.
“Oh, yeah, and what’s that?”
“Coffee.”
“Is that on Ira’s list?” Jake asked, knowing damn well it

wasn’t.

“We won’t tell him,” Bart whispered.
Jake laughed. “One cup,” he said, holding up one finger.
“Spoilsport!”
“I want to be able to walk after my next physical.”
Bart burst out laughing, and Jake’s heart swelled at the sound.

It was good to hear. “I’ll do the honors,” Jake said.

Jake returned with two coffees to find Bart sitting up, so he set

the cups on the coffee table and sat down next to his friend.

“’Course, it’s nice to be waited on,” Bart said as he picked up

his drink.

Jake watched as Bart closed his eyes and just let the aroma fill

his senses. Then very slowly, still with his eyes closed, he leaned
forward and took a sip. He sighed and took one more. Jake

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

laughed.

Opening his eyes, Bart asked, “What?”
“You’re making love to that coffee.” Jake grinned and was

surprised to see a blush suffuse Bart’s cheeks. He realized then
what he’d said and quickly turned away from Bart’s gaze.

“Delia came to see me today shortly before we left,” Bart said.

“She was upset because she guessed that you hold her accountable.
I tried to ease her mind, but I don’t know if I really helped. I think
I made the mistake of agreeing that she gets too caught up in her
work. I didn’t mean to suggest Salket took the right avenue to get
her attention.”

“You really don’t blame Delia at all?” Jake asked.
Smiling, Bart replied, “How could I? I’m just as blinkered as

she is when it comes to my own… interests.” He shrugged, and
Jake grinned at him. However, Bart didn’t return the grin, but
instead he stared at Jake before continuing, “And for once I’m not
speaking of my work.”

Jake’s smile faltered as he felt a lump settle in his stomach.

Bart seemed to be in a sharing mood and he was afraid what was
coming. After Bart’s comment in the medical bay about
understanding how hard it was to get the attention of someone you
cared about, Jake would give anything not to hear this, not to hear
that tone in Bart’s voice again when he spoke of someone else,
probably some woman he was interested in. However, there was
nothing he could do as Bart carried on, unaware of Jake’s growing
distress. Jake couldn’t even look away from the approaching
wreckage of his life.

“I decided it was time I looked to my own… needs and desires.

I’m tired of being alone, of having no one to come home to, no one
to share my life with, or my dreams. There’s so much I want, so

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

much I can give. I want… I want… ” Bart stopped speaking and
closed his eyes. “God!” he said in a strangled voice, “do you know
how hard this is to say when you look at me like that?” Bart
jumped up and stepped away from the sofa.

Jake sat rigid, his breath panting through his lips as he stared at

Bart. The lump that had settled in his stomach disappeared in the
heat of his feelings. Before he knew it, he was on his feet standing
behind Bart. He reached out for him. For just a moment, he
hesitated to take that final step, to make that simple contact.

His heart pounding in his chest, Jake placed his hands on Bart’s

shoulders and with a slow, firm movement, turned him.

“Open your eyes, Bart,” Jake said softly. “Never hide from

me.”

* * *

The tone in Jake’s voice took Bart’s breath away and he

gasped, “Is that what I’m doing?” as he opened his eyes.

Jake was directly before him now, his expression still giving

nothing away, but his eyes were alight.

“Never again.” Jake’s voice was gruff. “You’ll never be able to

hide from me ever again.”

“Even if I close my eyes?” Bart murmured, stepping closer,

staring into a pair of warm brown eyes.

“No,” Jake whispered as he stepped toe to toe with Bart,

“because I know now what lives behind those eyes and I’ll always
see the truth, see you.”

“About time.” Bart sighed. “You’ve been hiding, too, you

know.” Bart reached up and, slowly, as if afraid Jake might break,
he touched Jake’s cheek.

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

Leaning into the caress, Jake admitted, “I know and I’m sorry.

It’s hard doing what we do. I wouldn’t even admit to myself that…
” He gave a harsh laugh. “As if somehow not admitting how much
you meant to me would make it any less real. Make it hurt any less.
Stupid, I know,” he admitted.

“And?” Bart prompted.
“And when I thought I’d lost you, when I realized what a fool

I’d been to let my last chance just slide by, I planned—” He
stopped.

“Planned what?”
“Nothing… I don’t know. Just… just desperate, that’s all.”
Bart backed away, frowning, thinking about what Jake

wouldn’t say. He didn’t need the words to understand. He’d done a
lot of thinking himself over the last twenty-four hours.

“Now who’s hiding,” Bart said. He stepped closer again. His

arms crossed over his chest… strong, determined. “Jake, do you
love me?”

Jake dipped his eyes and, for a moment, Bart thought Jake

might prevaricate, as he seemed unwilling to meet his gaze.

* * *

Jake’s heart thudded in his chest and he was afraid Bart would

see just how much raw need he felt for the man. Taking a breath to
control himself, he lifted his eyes and attempted a smile. “Oh,
yeah, Can’t you tell?” There was an air of challenge in the words.

“Thought maybe you did.” Bart smiled, moving purposely into

Jake’s space.

Jake leaned in to kiss Bart. It was tender, tentative, as they

explored each other’s lips, and their mouths as they opened for

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

each other. Then Jake pulled away.

“Jake?” Bart said plaintively.
“You’re still not well,” he replied, indicating the sling.
“This?” Bart smiled. “I only wear it to pacify Ira. Another rule

on his list.”

Jake laughed. “Okay, but it isn’t necessary to rush things.”
“Rush? We’ve been dancing around this for two years!”
Jake’s mouth dropped open and, as Bart laughed at his

expression, he said, “Okay, you got me there.”

“I don’t want to wait any longer to know what it feels like to

touch you,” Bart said, his eyes bright. “I love you.”

Heart bursting with joy, Jake pulled Bart into his arms and held

him tight, his lips seeking that tempting mouth once again.

Breaking apart because of the simple need for air, Bart dropped

his head on Jake’s shoulder and said, “You know that favor you
owe me?”

Jake stiffened for a moment, before he relaxed and said,

“Yeah?”

“Can I have it now?”
“Whatever you want,” Jake answered, his attention on the skin

behind Bart’s ear that he was presently kissing and nipping.

Shivering at the touch, Bart said softly, “You, I just want you.”

* * *

Jake lay in the centre of Bart’s bed, one arm under his head on

his pillow, the other one holding a warm, exhausted, but well sated
Bart Hilton close to his side. Bart was fast asleep, but Jake felt
wide awake, even though it was the early hours of the morning.

He’d never felt more comfortable inside his own skin than he

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

did just then and he was content to just be, listening to the rainfall
outside his partially open window. He had everything he could
ever desire here in his arms and he wanted this night to last
forever. He had imagined, dreamed of making love with Bart, but
the reality far outweighed any fantasy.

The covers had slipped halfway down the bed and he leaned

over to pull them up. His hand halted in its action as he once again
felt his body stirring on seeing the outline of his lover’s body, until
he was disturbed by the fleeting memory of the kaleidoscope of
colors decorating Bart’s torso in proof of how hurt he had been. He
could still remember the look in Bart’s eyes the moment he saw
Jake’s stricken expression when he had first seen him naked.

Bart took Jake’s face in his hands. “I’m more thankful than I

can say that I was in your office when the explosion occurred. It
finally made us admit our feelings. It was worth every ache and
pain for the joy you give me.”

Jake’s passion had spiked at those words and he took Bart’s

mouth in a desperate kiss, pushing his lover flat on his back as he
teased his mouth open. Bart had welcomed him inside with a moan
low in his throat. The erotic sound had gone straight to Jake’s cock
and moving purposefully over Bart, he’d soon brought them both
to the edge. They had both waited too long for this first time to be
anything other than quick and messy as their orgasms coated each
other.

Knowing it was only the beginning, Jake had held Bart close

smiling as his lover had sighed, little puffs of breath tickling the
side of his neck where Bart snuggled.

“Jake,” Bart had whispered, “I feel real for the first time in

longer than I can remember.”

Jake had made sure Bart felt real again a little while later when

A FAVOR FOR A FRIEND

they’d made love for a second time, this occasion slowly and very,
very thoroughly. Jake had mapped each injury on Bart’s body as he
lay beneath him, being neither still nor quiet.

“I owe you a kiss for each bruise, for each hurt you suffered,”

Jake had murmured.

Bart’s cry when he came the second time that night would

reverberate inside Jake’s skull for the rest of his days.

“You can collect on your favor for the rest of your life, Bart,

and I will treasure each day.”

“I love you, too,” Bart had said. “So much.” He had smiled.

“Favor for a friend, huh? Must do that again some day.”

“Oh no, my love, all your favors belong to me,” Jake had

declared and Bart had just grinned.

Now, drawing up the covers over them both, Jake thanked

whatever fate had allowed Bart to survive. Settling back, he pulled
Bart even closer as he murmured at being disturbed before
snuggling back against Jake’s side, his head burrowing into his
shoulder.

A gentle breeze blew through the drapes lifting them to allow

what little light permeated from outside to paint patterns through
the rain-splattered glass onto the ceiling.

Through half-closed eyes Jake let his vision glide over the

sparkling patterns and smiled as his imagination let him see stars
on his bedroom ceiling. Then he glanced at his sleeping partner
and grinned at his own sappiness as the thought took hold that he
had stars in his heart.

TEVIE

OODS

Stevie is a Brit living in the Northwest of England and has recently
been able to leave her day job behind—though it’s a quandary that
there still doesn’t seem to be much more free time in her day!

A long-time avid reader of romance with a dash of adventure,
Stevie only stumbled over “slash” pairings a few years ago and
was an immediate convert. Having dabbled with writing on and off
for years, Stevie was tapping away on the keyboard not long
afterward, inventing stories around two hot guys, gaining her first
publication in the summer of 2007.

Stevie likes reading stories with a good strong plot and believable
characters and does her best to create them in her own work.

Stevie has a soft spot for Historical settings but also thoroughly
enjoys Sci-Fi and Fantasy, Paranormal and Contemporary, finding
the similarities as intriguing as the differences. Stevie already has a
variety of novels, novellas and short stories released by various
publishers.

To learn more about Stevie, please visit her website at
http://steviewoods.com, or email her at stevie@steviewoods.com.

* * *

Don’t miss Lightning Strikes

by Stevie Woods,

available at AmberAllure.com!

On Alkya, a planet a long way from Earth, the Division of
Investigation—Other Worlds—has set up a base where hundreds of
personnel live and work. Among them are two men, Major Joshua
Marsden and Lieutenant Matthew Ronson, who are part of one of
the survey teams.

Shortly after Josh and Matthew confess their feelings for each
other, their team embarks on a mineral survey mission to another
planet. During a ferocious lightning storm, however, Josh is
injured. After finding shelter in a cave, Matt looks after Josh while
teammate Dennis braves the storm to go for help.

But when the storm’s intensity increases, and lightning strikes
closer and closer, Matt grows concerned that their place of safety
may turn out to be their grave…

MBER

UILL

RESS

, LLC

OLD

TANDARD IN

UBLISHING

UALITY

OOKS

OTH

RINT AND

LECTRONIC

ORMATS

CTION

DVENTURE

USPENSE

HRILLER

CIENCE

ICTION

ARK

ANTASY

AINSTREAM

OMANCE

ORROR

ROTICA

ANTASY

GLBT

ESTERN

YSTERY

ARANORMAL

ISTORICAL

IRECT

AVE

www.AmberQuill.com

www.AmberHeat.com

www.AmberAllure.com

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