Talos Island International Airport was built like an eight-sided star, with many airlines sharing the same terminal. National lines took up most of the terminals, but the international ones were clumped on the south side of the airport.
The two men waited just outside the exit tunnel, watching people disembark from the plane. Bomber could hear some small footsteps running through the tunnel, and sure enough, a pair of children burst through. They scanned the crowd, and Lorenco called, “Cristan! Izzy!”
With a cry, they both ran to him and he bent, scooping them into his arms. Kissing them both continental style, he hugged them both tightly. Bomber looked at the group, and his dead heart swelled; even though he never wanted children, he didn’t mind playing with them. Lorenco got up and smiled at Bomber. “Cristan, Izzy, this is my roommate Bruce.”
Both of the kids stared up and up at him. Izzy did have her mouth open in wonder. Cristan, however, had the balls of his father, stepped forward and held out his hand. “I’m Cristan!”
Bomber smiled and took his hand that was swallowed into Bomber’s mammoth paw. “Nice to meet you.” He then looked at Izzy, who held out her hand, but looked a little afraid. He took her hand gently, tilted it so it was draped over his hand, and kissed her knuckles. “A pleasure, miss.”
She blushed, just as he expected. Then he straightened and said, “I’ll go fetch the bags, you guys wait right here, catch up on things.”
Lorenco nodded, and Bomber headed to the baggage claim area. Someone bumped into him, he got a glance at him, but thought nothing of it. He gathered the four bags, carrying them easily but awkwardly, and went back to the group.
They were talking with each other in accelerated Spanish, which he didn’t know at all. He figured he could learn it; after all, he had plenty of time to do it now. He had a good ear for accents, so learning a language shouldn’t be that much more difficult.
Lorenco said, without turning around, “Are you all set?”
The kids nodded, looking up again at Bomber. “When Robbie’s around, we’re going to speak English, otherwise it will be rude.” Bomber caught the use of his middle name and bristled – he hoped the kids wouldn’t call him that. He hated that name.
“Okay, papa,” said Cristan, taking his father’s hand. Izzy was already holding onto Lorenco’s hand, keeping an eye on Bomber.
Bomber walked respectfully a little behind Lorenco until they got to the parking garage and then he walked next to them. “How did you get so big?” Isabella asked.
“I was in the Army.”
“What did you do in the Army?” asked Cristan, already intrigued.
“I flew choppers. Combat helicopters.”
“You were in a war?”
“Well, if you want to call Desert Storm a war.”
“The Liberation of Kuwait,” explained Lorenco. “Before you were born.”
“You must be very old.”
Bomber laughed. “Your father’s older than me.”
Lorenco stage whispered to Cristan, “Don’t let him fool you, he’s ancient.”
They got to the car and Bomber reached in his back pocket for his wallet to get the parking ticket. He realized his wallet was gone. “Shit,” he hissed, remembering the man who bumped into him in the claim area.
“What?” asked Lorenco, getting the kids bundled into the car.
“Some son of a bitch stole my wallet.”
“Do you remember who?”
“I only got a glimpse of who it might be. I remember he had a brown leather jacket and black hair.” His Beast demanded he go back into that terminal and tear through the place to find him.
“He’s probably trolling the baggage claim area,” said Lorenco.
Bomber nodded, and the Beast was quelled by this thought. “I’ll be right back, can you cover getting out of the garage?”
“I’ve got it. I’ll meet you at the garage’s exit.”
Bomber took off at a lope back to the terminal. His blood was up, his Beast near the fore, wanting to kill the bastard, but Bomber refused to let it control him. He calmly walked through the terminal, trying not to attract attention, got through the scanner without a problem and headed to the baggage claim area.
Sure enough, Lorenco was right. A man with a leather jacket and black hair was wandering in and out of the crowd. He watched as the held an arm stiffly at his side as he stepped away from someone. Bomber came down the ramp and approached him.
He didn’t realize that people parted away from him. He only had eyes for the dark haired man in the brown leather jacket. He got up to him, and the man looked up at him, a moment of fear crossing his face. Bomber put a hand on his shoulder and leaned forward to say quietly, “I think you have something of mine. Let’s go check.” He tugged, a little more roughly than he meant to, making the man stumble.
Bomber guided the man toward the bathroom, and once inside, he threw the man into the side wall, again, harder than he intended. The man hit his head against the tile with an audible crack. “Hand them over.”
The man started unloading his pockets. There were six wallets, including his own. “Slow night?” Bomber cleaned the money out of all of them and tossed them in the trash. “Scram.”
The man bolted, and Bomber smiled, pocketing the money. He peered under the stalls, and saw a pair of feet. “Come out, it’s safe.” There was a flush, and the stall opened, but Bomber was already out the door.
Bomber saw the car parked illegally and jumped into the passenger side. “Did you find it?” Lorenco asked.
“Yep. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Lorenco studied Bomber, who wore his poker face as best he could. But Bomber was a horrible liar, and an even worse actor, and ended up breaking out into a smile. “You guys hungry?”
“Yeah!” said Cristan.
Lorenco glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “It’s early, I guess we can.”
“There’s an Ihop a couple of exits down,” Bomber said. “Might as well introduce them to American cuisine.”
“Can we go to McDonald’s tomorrow?”
Lorenco and Bomber both laughed.
—————————–
Bomber sat across from Izzy, who busied herself with the games on her placemat. “You’re awful quiet,” he said to her.
She shrugged, staring at her placement and doodling idly.
“Miss home?”
Another shrug. He looked at Lorenco, who leaned over the table. “Why don’t you show Bruce Boo-boo?”
Bomber expected to see a wound, but she turned to her Hello Kitty backpack and pulled out a well-worn stuffed bear. For a moment, Bomber was thrown back to his childhood, and his own Snoopy that he kept even until his teenage years. “Can I see?”
She gingerly handed it over and he took it. It was one of those Build-A-Bear bears, and he turned it over in his hands. “Oh, what’s that?” Bomber put the bear to his ear, and looked like he was intently listening. She giggled, watching him. “Uh huh, uh huh, okay.” He handed the bear back, saying, “He said he wants you to hold him, that it’s dark and lonely in that backpack.”
She smiled and took the bear back, keeping him in the crook of her arm. “Tell me about Boo-boo,” he asked.
He shouldn’t have. She suddenly turned into an incessant chatterbox, telling him that Lorenco had gotten it for her two Christmases ago, how she created the bear, where he’s been with her. She kept talking through dinner, and he struggled to both listen and keep down the single hamburger-without-bread that he ordered.
Children filled and satiated, they fell asleep on the ride home, Izzy in a muttered mid-sentence.
After pulling over so he could throw up the hamburger, he climbed back in glancing in the back. “Wow…she’s a real storyteller.”
“You encouraged it,” Lorenco said, rubbing his temples. “She’s like her mother.”
“Oh, I don’t know, you can probably go off on things.”
“Like what?”
Bomber undid the tie around his neck and unbuttoned the top button. “Kindred history.”
“Only because you ask, and it’s my job to teach you.”
“Now it’s a job?”
“No, it’s an adventure.”
Bomber laughed.
When they got home, Lorenco took Cristan and Bomber carried Izzy up to their rooms. He took off only her shoes and tucked her in under the blanket. He looked down at her innocent, sleeping form, and wondered if he could ever feed from a child. He frowned, and that’s how Lorenco found him.
“What’s wrong?” He put an arm around Bomber’s waist.
“Do elders feed from children?”
“Sometimes.”
Yet another reason not to become like them. “I think I’d like a drink.”
Words: 1463
Inspiration: Story line with NPC’s suggested by Lorenco’s player. This is definitely not canon so won’t get posted on Warwriter.
Music: Makes me Wonder – Maroon 5