Splinter Cell: Traitor

Chapter 18

Abigail

KAZAKHSTAN

                “Alright, the train comes through here at 1700 tomorrow.  Get some sleep,” Fisher said to the rest and walked into the tent.  I didn’t look back at him.   He didn’t see it, there was no way he could have seen it.  Please tell me he didn’t see anything.  My lips still tingled from Hansen’s surprise attack.  I was cleaning my guns despite having not fired them at all since receiving them.  He didn’t say a word as he dropped my OPSAT onto the sleeping bag beside me.

                “So, Hansen,” he said sitting down. 

                “Oh my god, you saw that?” I asked turning a bright red color, I was sure of it.

                “Everybody saw that,” he said and I had to cover my face.  I heard him laugh and that just made me blush even brighter red.

                “Oh my god,” I muttered.  I could tell my face was bright red.  I don’t think I would be able to look at Hansen the same way ever again.

                “I realize this is none of my concern, but did you like it?”

                “Your right!  That is none of your concern!” I snapped at him.  My face still beat red.  He had a teenage boyish smile on his face.

                “Last time I checked, execute usually means a bullet in the head.”

                “And last time I checked, burning at the stake was a form of execution.” I said thankful he had changed the subject.

                “I doubt Grim and the President are looking forward to watching Ames burn alive.”

                “Grim got me a President Execute Order.  I don’t think she expected anything pretty.” I said, “Would you have preferred I covered his head with a bag first?  Made it more of like an official execution?”

                “I think you are happy I changed the subject,” he said.

                “Damn right I am, I would like to keep it that way if you don’t mind.”

                “So, did you like it?” he asked.

                “If I say yes will you stop asking?” I asked him.

                “Did anybody ever tell you that you are really cute when you are embarrassed?” he asked.  I had to laugh at that.

                “If I was younger I would call you a pervert,” I said.

                “The only time you could have said that was when you were seventeen and you were still in high school.  The instant you turned eighteen, you are technically fair game.”

                “And you are fifty five, I am twenty one, that’s nasty,”

                “If I had fifteen million dollars and a terminal illness you would definitely be reconsidering,”

                “I would have to be the main beneficiary in the will before I reconsidered that,” I said.  We both laughed and I looked at him. “But I was right earlier, you really need to sleep.  You just look tired or old, one of the two.”

                “Are you calling me old?”

                “Not calling you new,” I said.  I knew the only reason I could call Fisher old is because of those eight years I spent living with Grim with him popping in.  The only reason is because he liked me.