The Gray Man Ch. 05 - Ariana

Dear Reader,

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination.

Constructive criticism, and feedback is truly appreciated. I would like this to be an interactive journey as much as this medium allows. Please feel free to send suggestions, ideas for future characters etc. I welcome the input.

I hope you enjoy these adventures as much as you enjoyed Sean - no worries, Sean will be back. I just need some time to explore some other areas of my darkness.

Also, if you'd like a character to inquire about Gray's services send me a description and we can work from there.

Keep Soaring,

Pelican

(¬‿¬)

Monday morning was chaotic for Mr. Gray. He was up early and headed into the city for breakfast at his favorite diner. 2 eggs over easy, bacon, rye toast, coffee. The renaissance man Thomas Patrick James had slipped on reading glasses as he sipped his coffee and read the Wall Street Journal, in the traditional paper format.

He didn't even look up as Mark Underwood walked up to his table, "Good morning Gray, mind if I sit?"

TJ folded his paper and looked over his reading glasses, "Good morning Sharpshooter, What if I say no?"

His old friend laughed, "Then I'll just sit uninvited I guess."

Gray shook his head, "Some things never change, once an asshole always an asshole."

Sharpshooter feigned that the barb actually hurt, "That's been asked and answered your honor."

TJ slipped off his glasses, "What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Underwood looked at his old friend, "What? Can't two old friends get together for breakfast to start their week?"

TJ smirked, "Sure they can, but you didn't have my phone pinged and show up here just for breakfast now did you?"

Mark Underwood leaned in, "Can you flip her?"

TJ shrugged, "Flip her? Hell Mark, I don't know her. I was paid to gather information for a client. I followed my gut and got lucky."

Sharpshooter looked at his old friend, "You and that internal instinct of yours. Never failed to produce."

A brief cloud passed over TJ's green eyes, "Almost never."

The shared memory stabbed at Sharpshooter too. "Yeah, but fuck man, we were all wrong on that one." The waitress filled up both men's coffee as Mark waited until she left to continue. "Let me rephrase, could you flip her if given a chance?"

TJ shook his head, "I am out of the game. Why don't you bring her in and flip her?"

Mark looked at him, "Because a bunch of black SUV's show up in her neighborhood and then the bad guys know that we know. Or she disappears into our offices and the bad guys know that we know."

Gray was pissed that he was being drawn in by his friend - but he was more pissed that his mind was already plotting and planning. Old habits never quite go away. "What's my leverage?"

Mark smirked, "All the charges go away, including the corporate ones."

TJ shook his head, 'Isn't that up to her employer?"

It was Sharpshooter's turn to shake his head, "Some tax incentives thrown their way magically convinced them of their patriotic duty."

Gray sighed, "Whether it's a village in the Himalayan Mountains or a boardroom in DC it's all the same isn't it brother? Follow the fucking money. So, I know the bait, what's the hook?"

Underwood discretely slipped a small micro drive. "She gives them this - looks like what she passed to them earlier, this one just has a small line of code that would give our folks a backdoor into their system."

TJ looked at the micro drive. "I'm not getting back in the game Shooter."

His friend lifted both hands, "One job and I'll forget that I know you."

Gray shook his head, "Bullshit, and you know it's bullshit."

Sharpshooter smiled, "Admit it asshole, you fucking love the game." He stood up and looked at the waitress, "Put my coffee on his bill, I'm late to a meeting."

TJ slipped the small drive into his pocket and headed to the office. Before he even entered the building he was met by Elliot. There was no good morning, no pleasantries, just a verbal barrage, "I need you to fix a problem."

Gray kept walking, forcing the shorter man to keep up, "Good morning to you, Elliot."

The young attorney grabbed Gray's arm causing TJ to stop and turn his gaze to the young man. The look in TJ's eyes terrified him. Still, his arrogance caused him to plow ahead, "I need you to fix a problem."

TJ sighed, "You already said that. What's the problem?"

Elliot was almost panicked, "I have a client in a bit of trouble, he's being accused of sexual harassment and assault. If it blows up and goes public it will cause a huge embarrassment for him and for the firm."

Gray looked at the young attorney, "Is he guilty?"

Elliot looked up at the tall man, "What difference does that make? The firm needs you to make the accusers understand that they have nothing to win."

TJ put his hands on his hips, "I asked you a simple yes or no question. Did he do what he's accused of?"

The shorter man stepped up to Gray and put his finger in his chest, "I said, that it makes no fucking difference. Fix it."

Gray shook his head as he walked away, "Fix it yourself. If he's guilty, let him rot." Elliot was almost running to catch up with TJ when Gray stopped abruptly. "Fuck off, Elliot. I investigate and gather intel. I'm not some mafia thug for hire to intimidate witnesses."

Gretchen had pulled into the lot mid conversation and walked up on the final exchange. She looked at Elliot, "Mr. Rose, if you ever make partner you can throw your weight around, until then may I suggest that you understand the proper channels to make things happen. Until then, dot your i's and cross your t's. Am I clear?"

The younger attorney looked at his boss, "But Mr..."

Gretchen turned so her profile was apparent, "Mr. Rose, do I look like a Mister or does it look like I care what a Mister said? We are finished here."

She turned on her heel, "Mr. Gray, when you have a moment please come to my office." The two men watched her hips sashay as she walked into the building.

TJ made his way to his cousin's office. He needed to tell her about how things went with Elizabeth. While the conversation with Underwood impacted the firm, there were certain things that were on a need to know basis and she did not need to know.

Gretchen listened as he recounted the events at the hotel, even chuckling at Liz's response to the aggressive Big Ray, even assuring TJ that Big Ray was not the friend that Gretchen had contracted with.

"I was worried when I got a text from my friend around 9 that he had been at the restaurant for two hours and not seen you nor Liz," she said. She reached into her attache' case and pulled out three files and slid them to Gray.

Gretchen began, "Number one, our favorite Federal Agent is back, almost begging to be 'sexually interrogated.' Turns out a friend of hers in a European counterpart was kidnapped and ended up giving up a key piece of intelligence, she wants to know her limit."

Gray shook his head, "Next."

Gretchen spoke as Gray looked at the folder, "Another couple scenario. Wife wants to make her hubby jealous. Says he is married to work."

TJ rubbed his temples, "Next, that's not a consensual situation and I am not going to be a fucking gigolo." He felt like the walls were closing in around him again. The meeting with Underwood once again caused a bunch of memories to flood his system. "I need to take a walk."

Gretchen put the files away. By the time she got up TJ was out of her office, down the hall, and walking into the parking lot. By the time she caught up with her cousin he was leaning against the car in the parking lot, but his brain was again thousands of miles away as the images filtered through his defenses.

Gray watched as the man walked to him with a pair of gardening shears, "Did you know that in the second World War the Russians would cut the trigger finger off of prisoners so that even if they were released they couldn't return to the war?"

He held the sharp shears up as he reached for TJ's right hand. They say that you never hear the shot that kills you, and the large torturer did not hear the shot that vaporized his skull. TJ was covered in a red and gray mist as shouts erupted throughout the village, followed by the sound of a pitched firefight.

TJ could hear the familiar sounds of small arms, mixed with the sounds of heavy machine gun fire as the air was filled with the sound of helicopter rotors. The heavy acrid smell of drums of fuel exploding and the screams of men dying assaulted his senses.

Everything then went away as a flashbang grenade bounced through the window of the building where TJ was held. Normally, he would at least partially shield himself from the blast, but being shackled prevented that from happening. The loud BANG and the bright flash disoriented him and everyone else in the room.

Gray felt himself being cut down and dragged outside. The bright light of the sun just further overwhelmed his already over stimulated senses. As soon as it was feasible he was hot loaded into a Blackhawk medical helicopter and flown to the closest US Army hospital.

After the rescue mission Mark Underwood came to visit him in the hospital, "Sorry it took us so long buddy, we had to follow the fat man to know exactly where you were being held."

TJ hurt from head to toe. Horribly dehydrated, severe blood loss from the wounds to his face and back. Broken nose, fractured ribs, Grade 2 sprains of both shoulders. He was a mess. His eyes were almost completely swollen shut from the broken nose as he looked up at his friend, "How many lost?" Sharpshooter said nothing, just put his hand on his friend's chest. "Shooter, how many lost?"

His friend looked at him, "6 - we lost a little bird. Damian, Matty, Juan, and Cortez were onboard."

TJ's world collapsed. 6 men, 4 of his closest friends had given their lives rescuing him. Despite the constant IV fluid he was too dehydrated to even make tears, and even if he could the swelling around his eyes would have prevented them from falling.

Despite directions to the contrary, Sergeant First Class Thomas Patrick James was at the funeral for every one of the heroes who lost their lives on that mission.

Back in the present day, in the cold parking lot of a DC area law firm his cousin finally caught up to him as he was taking deep breaths trying to purge the pain. The concern she had was written all over her face. "Teej," she said, "Talk to me. Please. What's going on? Is it what we are doing? What's causing these reactions?"

TJ shook his head, "No, it's nothing to do with what we have been doing. Just a lot of memories being stirred up. I'll be okay, I just need to have a long conversation with a friend, on my terms."

She hugged him, "Since you vetoed the first two, I'll bring the third file out to you. Take it with you, go someplace and work off some steam, text me later we can meet for dinner." She kissed him on the cheek as he stood in the cold. While Gretchen went inside to retrieve two files, the file of Ariana and the file of Rebecca - the federal agent, TJ sent a text to a friend of his serving at the Pentagon.

Gray tucked the files away and headed to a large sporting goods store where he spent way too much money and made his way out of the city up 267 to Reston, Virginia. When he stepped out of the Cadillac and grabbed his bag from the trunk he was greeted by a mountain of a man. "You must be Gray. Chief called me about you." The large black man held out his hand, "Name is Michael Rogers, 24th MEU"

Gray shook his large hand, "Good to meet you Gunny. Thanks for letting me lace them up with you."

The large man threw his bag over his shoulder as they walked together to the rink, "Can't have too many goalies. I've got an extra jersey for you in my bag."

In the locker room Gunny tossed TJ a jersey. Gray laughed when he held the steel gray jersey with what looked to be a shark face on the front with an open mouth. Between the eyes on an angle was a scripted Brrrrrrt. "What a perfect fucking sweater for a team of vets!"

Michael Rogers joined the laugh, "Even as a jarhead I can appreciate that feeling of joy when you heard that A-10 roll in and burp. Ended a firefight in a hurry."

The Vets were taking on a team of firefighters in the beer league game. Gray played fairly well, making a couple of good saves. More importantly though was the time at the rink, on the ice, with strangers who were brothers. Nobody needed to share their story or talk about their wounds, and as they changed in the locker room the tell tale price of combat was on display. Nobody asked about TJ's scars and he didn't ask about anyone else's. Just a shared look and you knew the story.

After the game TJ headed back to the apartment and took a long hot shower, he texted Gretchen about dinner and took a nap. His alarm woke him in time to dress and head to the restaurant along the waterfront.

TJ's cousin was already seated when he arrived. She had to distract herself as he walked into the restaurant. Gretchen could not imagine her cousin being "gray" - when he entered a place eyes were drawn to him. Thomas Patrick James had a commanding presence that drew attention.

He was wearing a pair of khaki slacks, a pink dress shirt and a navy jacket. His green eyes and his somewhat messy dark brown hair, combined with his lean physique drew appreciative gazes from men and women alike. All of that was with his huge cock tucked away.

He kissed her on the cheek before taking his seat. He noticed she was drinking gin and not wine, "Bad day?"

She nodded, "Saban and Knight are at one another's throat, Elliot got his panties in a bunch, and I have a client that should settle but demands to go to court. If I was wealthy enough to have my own driver I would gladly sit here until they threw me out while drinking every sip of Blackwoods Gin they would push in front of me."

TJ reached out and rubbed the back of her hand, "Sorry, G. Sorry to send Elliot into a tizzy."

She looked over her glasses, "Fuck that pussy. He will learn his place in the pecking order. You doing better?"

TJ smiled, "A little. I called a friend at the Pentagon who told me about a group of vets that play in a hockey league in Reston. I picked up some goalie gear and went and played a bit."

Gretchen smiled, "I used to love watching you on the ice."

TJ laughed, "Bullshit, you used to love to come to my games to watch John Campbell play. The very same John Campbell who took your virginity."

His cousin blushed, "How did you know that?"

Gray winked at her, causing her pussy to get wetter than it did the night she lost her virginity. "I know shit cuz. I know lots of shit."

They ordered dinner and ate, sharing old stories about hockey and hockey trips. When they finished dinner Gretchen took a breath, "Well?"

TJ smiled, "I noticed you gave me two files. Ariana and Rebecca."

Gretchen rubbed a finger around the rim of her Gin, "What can I say, Rebecca's persistence has won me over."

Gray nodded, "Honestly, I am not totally comfortable with Ariana either." TJ recited from memory. "41, never married, sole heir of an Italian vineyard coming to the area to increase the market, find other importers and restaurateurs. No timeline, no wild fantasy other than 'public domination and humiliation followed by wild sex. Planning to attend a Congressional Fundraiser Dinner, a dinner at the Italian Embassy, and the National Symphony at The Kennedy Center." He looked at Gretchen, "I never agreed to be a dating service or escort Gretchen."

His cousin nodded, "Let me see what I can do. I'll email her when I get home and better explain to her the nature of our service. Now, about Rebecca. C'mon Teej, she's pretty, smart, and has a need that you better than anyone could attend to."

TJ sat back, "Rebecca. Rebecca. Rebecca. I will agree to meet with her. There will be certain rules in place. I am willing to talk to her and see if she agrees. It would be very strict and firm. Any fuckups and at best I am in Leavenworth, at worst I become a red mist floating on the wind."

The next day found TJ lingering outside of the software development company around lunchtime as he followed his target to lunch. He needed to find a way in, an angle, a hook. Anything that would allow him to make casual conversation. He had hoped that she would walk someplace close for lunch, but his hopes were in vain as she never left until the workday was over.

TJ followed her at a distance to her car. He was looking for something, for any little thing and as he watched her pull out of the parking garage he found it. Proud parents can also be foolish parents. In the lower left corner of the rear window was a sticker that had a pair of crossed hockey sticks, the name Brendan, and Icebirds Hockey.

Early morning practices at a cold hockey rink. His own parents had spent many a morning following that same routine. In today's competitive world of junior and travel hockey where every club was recruiting for the next set of parents to pay big money in the hopes that junior would be the next Connor McDavid it was easy to find a practice schedule.

All that was left was to find out more about the target. He picked up his encrypted burner phone and called Underwood. "I may have an in, but I need a bit more info. I need a first name, and the age of her son Brendan."

As Gray waited for the information Gretchen called. "How does this work out for you and the Italian princess? She's going to dinner, then to the Kennedy Center for the 7 PM performance of Leonidas Kavakos playing Shostakovich's Violin Concerto No. 1 then to 'Across the Aisle' for a late dinner on Thursday."

TJ smiled, "Can you get me in with Suzi?"

He heard a sigh from his cousin, "As deep as you've been in her, I am sure that perhaps I can get you a table near Ms. Augustino."

TJ's phone buzzed as he hung up with Gretchen. The two words that Gray was waiting for, a short text from an unknown number, "Kim - 13"

As long as he was downtown he thought a quick stop at Brimble and Clark and a moment with Jerome would be the fastest way to get a tux before Thursday. Jerome was more than happy to help, but as TJ went to pay the petite man winked at him, "Ms. Foster called me earlier thinking you would stop by, the tuxedo and shoes have already been paid for. It must be nice to have a Sugar Mama." Jerome glanced down to Gray's groin, "Of course with a tool like that I can understand why. My, my, my."

TJ didn't want to ruin his fantasy and was not feeling ornery enough to make a comment about hillbilly cousins so he just winked and smiled, "It's a gift, it's a curse - so I might as well take what I can get from it."

Thursday evening arrived, TJ had gotten a car and driver as his plan was to leave the Kennedy Center with a brunette Italian Wine and Vineyard heiress. Gray was bundled against the February cold and snow that had settled in over the metro area. When he arrived he shook the flurries from his coat as he moved inside where he removed his overcoat and white scarf and quickly checked it at the coat check and positioned himself in the lobby so that he could watch patrons exit their cars as well as enter the theater.

It was easy to discern the diplomatic patrons as their bodyguards were never too far away. The Center was buzzing with patrons. Since the lifting of some of the pandemic restrictions folks wanted to be out and about. It was DC though, many wanted to see the performance, others just wanted to be seen. Recognition was everything in this town which suited TJ just fine. His goal was to blend in, to not stick out, to just be a part of the common folk. He had an instructor that used to tell his students - be the hoi polloi. Hoi polloi is an expression from Greek that means "the many" or, in the strictest sense, "the people".