JoJo and the Unit Ch. 02

"My apologies, Curtis, my wife had to give me chapter and verse of her driving the boat. I was close to asking how much am I going to have to pay for the damage to the boat, when I realized that husbands get to sleep with their eyes closed in marital beds when they say nothing sometimes."

His humor had returned from whatever bad news he had received earlier, that's for sure. He sat and we talked in generalities, it was plain to see he was circling the drain on a conversation he originally wanted to have.

"Your Highness, would it help if we cut our dinner short, since we both seem to be pushing it around the plate? I assume you have the equivalent of a drawing room where we can chat and get to talk about whatever is on your mind?"

He smiled, the first time since he made the comment about his wife. It was plain to see he loved her; it was written all over him when he talked about her. He did actually have a drawing room. While he was on the phone talking in his home language, I browsed through some of his first editions.

When the phone went down, he pointed to a seat and sat across from me. He took a deep breath and it all came out. His anger began when he was awakened in the middle of the night with the news that his nephew was in some trouble, and continued as the minutes turned to hours and the hours turned to days. The constant questions and digging brought out the anger of a man so badly betrayed by someone that he trusted: his own family.

"This officially never happened, but through back channels I talked to your Prime Minister. It was two days after the attack on Kenton Barracks. I struck a deal with him: my country would underwrite the cost of what had happened in his country to the full amount. The only condition I insisted on, Curtis, is that I wanted my nephew handed back to my people."

I had managed to set the timeline to what the King was telling me, with what I was doing that day. Then it was as clear as daylight why the SAS had gotten the prince's location before we did. They had him and they handed him back while we stood around wearing blank looks on our faces. We had been played, by the one man who figured out a way to pay all this off on someone else's dime.

The King actually winced when he finally looked into my eyes, all I could think to say was. "Where is he now, Your Highness?"

"I'm taking you to him in the morning, Curtis. He's close to death, which is why you getting here was time sensitive."

*******

It was a fitful sleep, at best. The knock on my bedroom door was from the same woman who seemed to be my official tour guide. The King was already eating when I arrived.

"I've an update from my wife: she wants to buy a boat and have it moored at the boat club. It seems I'm outnumbered; both my wife and son have caught the boating bug. I shudder to think what my security people will think of this when I tell them."

I smiled. "Ruth's people were the same when she bought the place; they were almost frantic when they found that they couldn't carry side arms around England."

He continued to chuckle and laugh while I finished my breakfast.

The journey was in relative comfort; all six of the vehicles had air-con. The convoy drove for close to an hour, while Hassan just looked out of the window as his country whizzed passed him. A small circle of twelve buildings came into view. All of them had seen better days, except the tent that was set up just outside the circle. The convoy pulled in, armed guards came out of the rusty buildings, recognized the vehicles and smiled. That smile stalled when I left the relative comfort of the vehicle.

Hassan and I walked over to the last of the rusty huts and he went in. I followed. A man sitting at a desk looked worried when the King entered. "Please, Your Highness, he just can't take anymore."

I lost them both when they went all home language on me. It was plain to see the relief on the doctor's face though, his name badge was a giveaway. We had passed the hospital he worked at on the way here. The nodding of his head had him agreeing to something. He almost ran out of the rusty building, and an ATV took him away seconds later. I went outside as the guards were getting into vehicles and leaving, as well. All that were left were the King's personal guards and me.

Now I was starting to feel just a little uncomfortable.

"Come with me please, Curtis."

When I turned to look at the King, he had a gun in his hand, it was pointing towards the ground and for that I was truly grateful. I followed him to the tent and went in with him. The smell was something I would remember for months to come. A head was poking out of the ground, and even that was swollen to the point that I could only just recognize the prince, although not so pompous now.

"You were beaten by a better man, Ahmed." The King tilted his head towards me. "This is the better man, Major Curtis Woodman. You stole the life of an innocent; in fact, you stole the lives of so many innocents that I'm still trying to put your mess back together. You disgust me and your wife gave me a message for you; Allah blessed her, the pregnancy miscarried, she thanks Allah everyday now."

The King knelt down to make it easier for the prince to see him. His eyes looked unfocused, and I doubted he could see much. I doubted even more that much was registering in his brain; he was dying. Now, I'm no doctor and my medical knowledge would rank among the 'stitch it and bandage it' brigade. Anything else was done by a medic or Doctor, but even this novice could predict his life-span to hours.

"I loved you like a brother, Ahmed, but you have left more than your fair share of pain in your wake. That sweet wife of yours has been disowned by her family, but like I said, Ahmed, I'm cleaning up your mess. When news of your death reaches the public, my wife and I will let her have her period of mourning. Then I will give her back her life Ahmed, she will become another wife to me. The children she brings into this life will be mine."

The King stood and then turned to look at me. The pain in his eyes was real.

"I have to do this, Curtis; this thing has set my country back a decade. I've spent almost twenty years dragging this country into the twentieth-century and now, because of this animal, we as a nation will have to shoulder the shame of a slave nation for years to come."

I knew what came next and I refused to witness it, so I left. The shot came as I placed my sunglasses back on and walked back to the vehicle. The King's men we already torching all of the huts. One vehicle stayed behind. I assume the occupants were going to bury the body and torch the tent. I would get word to JoJo when I got back. It wasn't much, but perhaps it could be deemed as peace to a certain lady Joan had her heart on.

The King and I spent a leisurely afternoon in the pool and Jacuzzi. The two young ladies were really nice and soft drinks came at regular intervals while Hassan and I finally talked. I had asked him why he had kept him alive for so long, his answer was both informative and honest.

"I wanted to know everything about his organization Curtis, he quickly understood that to stay alive longer meant he had to give me nothing."

When this man sitting across from me in the Jacuzzi looked at me, I really did understand why he ruled this country, it wasn't about greed, he loved his country and wanted to leave the ways of the past behind. He also knew that he couldn't do that overnight. The backlash could topple even him.

The King pulled every piece of information he could about the princess organization out of his so that he could cleanly destroy it and not allow any other person to creep out of the shadows and take it over.

We also talked about the evening that hell rained down on Kenton Barracks. That afternoon would rank as one of those moments I would take to my deathbed; I'm sitting in a Jacuzzi with the King while two naked women came with drinks at intervals, to say my wife wouldn't understand, would be a gross understatement.

As we both dried off, I asked if I could return home. His face gave him away and I worried about it until he said, "Curtis, my wife and son are having the time of their lives at the boat club, even Ruth has mellowed, from what my wife is saying. Do you mind if I return you but leave my family with you for another few days?"

Something didn't feel right about his response. "When you say a few days Hassan, define a few days."

He got that grin of his warming up.

"My wife and son want to stay for the club cruise."

I stared at him in shock, "But that's a week-long trip along the canal."

The King nodded. "They plan to send their clothes home on the return flight, since they have bought more functional clothes for their adventure."

I still had that really bad feeling.

"Hassan, when I left, your wife was wearing a Hijab, is she still wearing a Hijab?"

He roared with laughter and slapped me on my back as we walked to the exit from the pool.

"My wife phoned me and begged me to allow her to live at the boat club without a Hijab; she says that she likes Ruth but all Ruth see's is her Hijab and she so wants her to see more than just a headdress."

He then added. "Curtis, I won't tell, if you don't tell."

That grin made an appearance yet again as he held onto the exit door. "Besides, Curtis, I have a list of things that my wife plans to do for me when she returns, if I do her this one favor."

We made it to the corridor before I just said, "With all due respect. Your Highness, that is WAY too much information." I heard him laughing all the way down the corridor.

I spoke to Ruth later that night and told her that my flight was leaving in the morning. She was pleased, then asked me if I had been swimming with the King. That was information I wasn't going to admit to, but it was clear even to me that her new partner in crime would have told her. I wasn't going to lie, I love my wife.

I admitted I had and she half covered her phone, but not enough for me to not hear her say to someone, "See, I told you he would tell me. You get to clean all the windows in the apartment tomorrow."

The laughter came across, even by phone, then the words of her partner in crime were added to the laughter. "But I don't know how to clean, we have servants for that," came from somewhere behind her.

"Well, you're learning now, and I will be inspecting them when you're done."

Once my wife remembered I was still on the phone, she said, "See you tomorrow; we have a lot to catch up on. Remember, we have the club cruise to finish organizing."

*******

Six Months after the closure of the Unit.

The knock on her door was a welcome distraction. A head came around the door and one of the secretaries said, "Joan, the boss wants you; he didn't say why but did say that there was no rush."

She nodded, closed what she was working on and locked it in her office safe. Captain Carmichael knocked on her commanding officer's door ten minutes later. Her boss looked up and smiled.

"Got a job for you, Captain." He pointed to an envelope sitting at the far end of his desk. "You're to report the Ministry of Defense offices. You have to be there no later than nine tomorrow morning. They want you there for an undefined period of time, so pack a case."

Her brow creased. "Any reason, Sir?"

Her boss shrugged his shoulders. "None that I can find. I did ask around, but I was effectively told to mind my own business."

JoJo paused before leaving, then turned and once again looked at her boss. "Dress, Sir?"

He had already returned to his paperwork, but she heard him say, "Civilian."

Nothing surprised JoJo anymore. Even six months on, she was still trying to decide what to do. When the Prime Minister closed the Unit down and ordered the 'return to unit,' she simply returned to her intelligence regiment, as confused about what to do with her life then, as she was now.

JoJo left later that evening, booked into a hotel and made herself comfortable. She would sort out a more permanent accommodation when she figured out what the reason was for her presence.

She entered the Ministries building at 0830. It took her a few minutes to find the department that she was to report to, and reported in with five minutes to spare. The lady listened to JoJo say her name, checked it with her list and told her to please wait. She buzzed through to the office and announced that Captain Joan Carmichael was here. After a nod of the lady's head, she put the phone back, pointed to the door and said to go right in.

It was the first time she had come face to face with Charles Harmsworth since the meeting at Chequers.

"Good morning, Captain."

She watched him intently for a moment, and then responded in kind. "Good morning, Sir."

Charles Harmsworth pointed to the seat she was standing next to; she sat and watched as he leant on his arm so he could look more closely at her.

"That day at Chequers, I made you a promise: I told you that my family will forever be in your debt. Unlike this current coward of a Prime Minister, I keep my promises.

Mentally Joan shrugged her shoulders; her faith in the people of power had taken a real bad knock, something that even six months of time had not changed her opinion.

"May I ask how your daughter is, Sir?"

The smile of a proud father came to the fore. He spoke of Becky now in therapy and doing well. She filtered some of what she went through to her mother, knowing that her mother would use her own filter on what she felt her husband could know, for the sake of his own sanity.

For a year she had been used as a personal whore to a psychopathic prince who had total power over her. No one was allowed to touch her, other than him. Charles Harmsworth was amazed that she was still sane, and he was only told some of the things that she went through while everyone thought she was dead.

It was only when the secretary came in with coffees on a tray that either of them noticed the time. Both thanked the secretary as she left.

Charles watched as she closed the door, and once again looked at JoJo. "Which brings me to why you are here. I love my daughter, Captain. Last week she sat me down and finally opened her heart to me. She leaned heavily on her mother while she did, but I could understand why. My daughter is a lesbian, Captain. She told us that with pride a few weeks before she and her friends went on that fateful backpacking holiday. It's also an impossible thing to be when you're being raped on an almost daily basis by a psychopathic prince."

Now Charles Harmsworth watched Joan Carmichael more closely.

"My daughter wants to see you. I told her what happened to the Unit and she feels responsible; it also made her more single minded about wanting to see you. Now, the question is Captain. Do you want to see her?"

Charles Harmsworth sat and watched Joan Carmichael. He had been able to read people from a very early age. He channeled every single ounce of concentration onto Joan as she fought her own internal battle with her feelings, and how to answer a father that clearly loved his daughter with all his heart.

He spotted the resignation in her eyes, a second before a smile drifted across her lips.

"Your daughter noticed something about me within a day of our snatching her back. Throughout the journey back home she kept digging and digging, until finally she had stripped away every defense I had against people knowing the real me. To coin a phrase from your daughter, Sir, she owns my gay card and she's not giving it back."

"You're damn right I do."

Joan spun around on her chair. Becky Harmsworth was sitting in a chair by the door. Her father had told his secretary to let her in as she was leaving. She had sat and listened to everything since coffees were served.

Both got out of their chairs and rushed to meet in the middle of the office. As arms went around each other, they kissed. For weeks Charles Harmsworth had watched his daughter return from therapy, emotionally drained to the point that he feared for her health. At times, she would come home and both mother and daughter would retire to her room. He could hear her crying for what felt like hours. His daughter was doing her best, and therapy was helping, but she needed something a mother or father couldn't give her: she needed Joan Carmichael.

Charles Harmsworth waited for them both to come up for air; he even watched as they hugged and whispered in each other's ear. His smile was real; this was as alive as he had seen his daughter in many weeks. For the sake of his family, he couldn't fail her. Using his power within Whitehall he got Joan there, even if many would call it an abuse of his power. Just seeing them both with their guard down around each other made him realize he was doing the right thing.

"Captain Carmichael, off the record. What happened to the Unit at the hands of this Prime Minister has been the most despicable betrayal by any government leader I have ever known in the thirty plus years I have been in the civil service. On the record; however. I had General Brownlow put you in my hands for a month. I now give you to my daughter and you both have a month to figure this out, ladies."

He then looked at a daughter he hadn't seen since before she went on that fateful holiday with her friends, Becky disappeared two weeks later.

A body was found a few days into the search for her, and what was left was officially identified as Becky by the country's government. The same government said that due to the animals that got to her before the search team, it would be wise to hold a closed casket funeral.

A government official gave the Embassy DNA samples of blood and hair to verify the body in the sealed casket was indeed Becky Harmsworth. All tests came back positive that the DNA submitted was Becky's, crushing the faint hopes left to mother and father. It was also recorded as an accident that the same government official who gave the Embassy the DNA samples died in a road accident a day later.

She had a glow about her now, the smile was real. His daughter had come alive when in the arms of Joan Carmichael.

"Becky, your apartment has been professionally cleaned from ceiling to floor, and restocked with food. Make sure you keep up with the therapy sessions and talk to your mother at least once a day, otherwise, I can say with certainty that she will be banging on your apartment door wanting updates. Other than that, enjoy."

Becky still had JoJo's hand when she hit the street. Her car was parked in front of the building they had just left. A traffic warden was placing a ticket onto it. Becky snatched the ticket away from the window, gave the traffic warden a kiss on the cheek and thanked him before getting into the car with JoJo and pulling away. She could still see the traffic warden touching his cheek as she joined the traffic.

"What hotel are you in?"

JoJo told her. They made a detour, picked up her case, paid off the bill and were back in the car within minutes. Ten minutes of town traffic later, she pulled into her parking spot, both got out and made their way to her apartment.

It was JoJo that forced Becky to slow down and sit down. It was one thing to be finally honest with yourself, but it also took meeting Becky to put voice to her own thoughts and feelings, and to stop denying what she was. After two failed relationships and the Unit putting all further thoughts on relationships on the back burner as she became their leader, it was time to come clean with herself while knowing Becky was there to catch her if she stumbled.

"Becky, there is a big difference to knowing you're gay, and acting on it."

Forcing herself to be calm and even open her eyes so she could look at Becky, she said, "I just haven't done this before."