The Rivals

By Kristine Zensky

The jet hit another air pocket and went into temporary free fall.  Rollin’s stomach flipped. He hadn’t eaten much in the last forty-eight hours, but he had more than a liter of vodka swilling around in his gut. He still didn’t know what had slowed down Barney and Willy, but it had forced him to match the deputy premier shot for shot, improvising for an extra hour. He was thrilled when their efforts finally collapsed the power grid and lights went out throughout the city. The deputy premier was easy to subdue and the safe easy to crack.

Rollin knew the capital well enough to maneuver as swiftly in darkness as light. His colonel's uniform aided his passage through the streets toward the US embassy. By the time he arrived at the gate lights were back on.

He had tossed aside cap, epaulets, and service badges, inverted the jacket, and looked like an ordinary laborer, albeit a laborer with a fetish for exceptionally shiny black shoes. Within minutes the list of key missile sites was being transmitted on secure channels for decoding.

Jim and Cinnamon had created the diversion that gave him the chance to meet with the deputy premier one on one. Now they picked him up from the embassy in a nondescript van. By the time they met Willy and Barney at the airfield, all five of the agents were dressed as Red Cross aid workers. They moved swiftly through the hanger to the waiting plane. They were well aware that the delay had jeopardized a pre-agreed flight plan arranged under the pretense of humanitarian aid.

They clambered abroad quickly, moving to jump seats lining either side of the cargo plane. The pilot began to taxi even before they strapped in. Rollin sat next to Barney, across from Jim, Cinnamon and Willy.

Airborne, they all slowly relaxed. The plane was built for carrying heavy equipment, not people. The roar of the engines was loud and constant, too loud for conversation. The first hour of the flight was relatively smooth until they entered an unsettled weather system.

The plane lurched, shuddering violently. Rollin watched as Cinnamon clutched the webbing behind her uncomfortable seat. Willy’s eyes were closed. Had the big guy discovered some way to sleep through the storm? Rollin envied him. Jim looked up from the pad of paper in his lap, trying to adjust to the difficulties of writing under current conditions.

The plane steadied. Rollin could feel the acid gurgling in his stomach. He met Cinnamon’s eye and gave her a slight smile. He wished he had managed to sit next to her, but it would have only fueled Jim’s suspicions. 

Rollin wondered what the new boss made of finding him in Cinnamon’s room late the prior night. He thought they covered well enough.  Had Phelps asked her about it during their day together? Most likely not.  Jim would do nothing during a mission to divert their focus. If he were planning to pursue it, it would be after they were safely back.

Jim did seem curious to understand if there was more behind the playful banter of two of his agents. So far Rollin had no complaints about their new leader. He was cunning and bold and seemed willing to trust his team.  He was more likely to get involved himself than Dan had been, but he was just as brilliant. Rollin worried that Jim might be a stickler for policy and procedure.  Jim Phelps seemed to have an unerring belief in the agency, something Rollin did not always share.

Cinnamon was already nervous about Jim.  When they were in LA and off-duty, she was choosier about where she wanted to be seen with Rollin.  On missions, she insisted on playing it straight.  Last night Cinnamon was telling him to go back to his room just as Jim knocked on her door.  Ironically, Rollin had a legitimate reason to see her - to compare his forged identity card to her stolen real one. At least his visit had started that way, but he hadn’t been alone with her in days and the chance to hold her was too appealing.

Were they jeopardizing Jim’s trust, Rollin wondered. It had never been an issue for Dan. He looked toward Cinnamon again. Beautiful, frightened, trying to look composed despite the turbulence, sexy even in a Red Cross nurse’s uniform. They both knew they were breaking the rules, but they had fought it for as long as they could.

From the moment they met he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He wanted her from that instant. At first, he thought it would be fun and definitely more exciting because it was verboten. But she had resisted and now he was glad she had because it meant it didn’t start as a casual affair. They worked together steadily, each easily anticipating the other’s next move, a symbiosis that got them out of a lot of tight spots.

Tuning into the same wavelength brought comfort, confidence, and camaraderie to their dangerous business. They quickly came to respect each other’s skills. But nothing happened to make them less interested in making that intimacy physical as well. By the time they had slept together, they were both so charged with desire that the rules for not fraternizing with fellow agents were pretty easy to ignore.

The plane continued to bump along the troughs of warm and cool air. A deep air pocket dropped the plane dramatically. Rollin inhaled deeply, raising an eyebrow as he looked toward Cinnamon. Her hands were clasped across her chest, her thumbs locked under the seat harness. She couldn’t hear him across the plane even if he had something comforting to say. He checked his watch. They had at least another hour before they’d reach the NATO air base.

Wait a minute, Rollin thought. Why has Jim knocking on Cinnamon’s door last night?

Barney nudged his shoulder and Rollin leaned closer. “Got any cigarettes, Rollin?”

Rollin touched a pack in his chest pocket and shouted over the din. “Yeah, but I thought we couldn’t smoke in this thing.”

“We can’t.” Barney gestured toward their teammates. “But Cinnamon’s going to need about six cigarettes the minute we touch down.”

Rollin met his smile. Barney knew he wished he could do more. “Hey Barn, what did you do to Willy today? How can he sleep?”

“He’s not sleeping. He’s terrified. Just doesn’t want anybody to know.”

Jim looked up. He could barely hear Barney and Rollin, not well enough to make out their words, but their conversation caught his attention. He saw them gesturing toward Cinnamon and Willy.  While Willy looked calm enough, Cinnamon was clearly distressed. Jim reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. He moved his lips closer to her ear. “Don’t worry. I used to fly before I got into this line of work.  The conditions are rough, but the pilots will be used to it and the plane can certainly take it.”

Cinnamon nodded and pursed her lips appreciatively, favoring Jim with a tiny smile.  Rollin watched from across the way, not sure what to make of the exchange.

Jim leaned closer again.  “Shouldn’t be like this for too much longer.”

Cinnamon nodded.  Rollin noticed Jim still held her hand.  Rollin wouldn’t mind if it was Willy or Barney, guys she’d been to hell and back with, but Jim had known her for all of four weeks.

Cinnamon spoke into Jim’s ear. “I’m usually fine. This one feels bouncier than most.”

Jim nodded and smiled.  Rollin could feel his blood simmer and knew he needed to put his emotions and his imagination in check.  He knew much of his ire came from having to abruptly leave her last night.   Cinnamon pulled her hand gently away. “Thanks, Jim. I’ll be fine.” She smiled graciously.

Jim met her smile and returned to his report.

The remainder of the flight was smooth.  As soon as they landed the radio officer came through from the cockpit.  He looked at the five unsure to whom he should address his information.  “Ground control asked us to taxi toward the hangar.  The colonel will met you there.”

Jim nodded, “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

The plane rolled to a stop. The young officer listened intently through his headphones, then unlocked the hatch and lowered the steps. Jim released his harness and turned to assist Cinnamon. He led the way to the exit. The other agents followed suit and made their way down the hinged steps.   The sun was low in the early morning sky, but bright.

Jim nodded as the colonel waiting at the bottom of the steps saluted him.

They moved away from the engines, which were still hot and noisy. Barney nudged Rollin’s shoulder and pointed to the No Smoking sign. Rollin turned to the lieutenant who had followed them down the stairs. “Any place for a smoke nearby?”

“Yes, sir.” His hand indicated a door at the rear of the hangar. “Just through the door there’s a closed-in courtyard off the ready room.”

“Thanks.” Rollin met Cinnamon’s eyes. She’d overheard the exchange and nodded.  As she turned for the courtyard Rollin’s fingers softly grazed the small of her back as he turned and followed her.

Willy said, “I’ll wait with Jim.”

Rollin whispered to Cinnamon, “You okay?”

“Yes. Okay.” He watched her stare straight-ahead, jaw tight, fighting to keep her feelings submerged. He wished he could hold her. When she reached the exit door he quickly stepped up beside her. He placed his hand on hers to help her open it. He squeezed her hand softly. His other arm smoothly guided her through the door by her waist. She turned and acknowledged him with a faint smile. His hand caressed her back as he lowered it.

Barney followed them through the door and into the sunshine. Rollin pulled his pack out and tipped cigarettes out first for Cinnamon, then Barney, and took one himself. He hadn’t brought his own lighter on the mission, so
struck a match, giving Cinnamon a soft smile as she lent into his flame.

Barney took the matches and asked, “Have we ever been on a bumpier flight?”

“Not in a cargo plane.” Cinnamon answered.

Rollin stretched his neck and shoulders, happy to feel the warm sunshine. He exhaled a series of smoke rings. “Maybe the next plane will have actual seats.”

Luckily they had arrived in time to join a scheduled military transport to Norton Air Force Base, just outside of Los Angeles in San Bernadino. The flight would take a polar routing and was by far the fastest way home.

The agents were pleased to see an almost normal cabin configuration within the belly of the transport, including a small bathroom. The flight was relatively full with GI’s and dependents. The quintet boarded last and was allocated the last two rows, as inconspicuous as possible.  Jim slid in to the row following Cinnamon, sitting next to her. Rollin grimaced as he moved past them to join Willy and Barney in the last row.  It would be a long twelve hours.

Rollin was so tired he found it difficult to sleep in the cramped airline seat. He settled his stomach with a box lunch sandwich and warm Coke the crew passed around. Willy and Barney slept next to him. He pressed against the armrests to raise himself over the row in front. Jim was sleeping and Cinnamon was reading a magazine she must have found in the seat pocket. He stood and leaned over her shoulder, careful to stay as far from Jim as possible.

Cinnamon sensed him and turned. She gave him a warm smile. Rollin tipped his head toward the bathroom behind them. Cinnamon spread her palms and shrugged. She was right. There was no way for her to get out of the row without waking Jim. Rollin frowned, exhaling sharply as he shook his head. Jim stirred. Rollin sat back into his seat.

At Norton AFB they were hustled onto a comfortable Lear jet for the short flight to LAX. Appropriate clothes awaited each of them and they took turns changing out of the Red Cross uniforms in the small toilet area. Despite the sixteen hours of travel already behind them, this was the first chance to speak securely. Jim quickly summarized his de-brief report and each of the agents added any additional information about the personnel and the installation that might prove useful for future missions. All the intelligence would be synthesized and filed at the agency.

Four cars awaited them at the small private aviation area of the airport.

Jim directed the three men toward the cars and said, “Cinnamon, I go right by your place. I’ll drop you off.” Willy met Barney’s eye. Rollin usually dropped Cinnamon. But the actor was already waving good-bye and moving
swiftly into the farthest car. Cinnamon was not surprised when she heard the door slam.

Rollin seethed for the ride up the coast to Malibu. He was angry and jealous and tired. The phone was ringing when he opened the door to his bungalow. He ignored it and moved into the shower. The last thing he wanted now was an interrogation from Jim Phelps.  When he emerged after fifteen minutes under the hot steam it was ringing again.

Instead of moving toward the phone he went for the kitchen. There was no food in the house, but a six-pack of beer and two bottles of wine in the fridge. He opened a bottle of beer. The phone was still ringing. He took a long swig and answered it.

“Yeah?”

“Hi.”

He softened at the sound of Cinnamon’s voice. “Hi.”

“Okay?” She asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“Hmmm, tired.” She waited for a response. “Rollin…”

“Yeah?”

“Are you really okay?”

“Yeah. It’s late. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Cinnamon was surprised and disappointed. She waited for him to continue, but there was silence. “Well, get some rest.”

“’Night.” Rollin slowly lowered the phone to the cradle.

He opened the fridge and carried the six-pack and an opener out to the deck. He wrapped his robe closer and dragged a chair to the edge of the deck so he could brace his legs against the railing and look out at the moon illuminating the churning waves. He listened to the ocean. Maybe he wasn’t as important to her as she was to him?

Jim was rugged, handsome, but more importantly to Cinnamon also brilliant, responsible, and reliable. He was committed to the IMF with a zeal Cinnamon seemed to share. She seemed to hang on his every word at the team briefings. Of course she’d be interested. And Jim wasn’t doing anything to hide his interest in her.

Of all the complications he had anticipated from a relationship with his beautiful teammate, this hadn’t been one of them. He was far away, replaying the first passionate nights when he finally persuaded her to give
in to the desire he hoped was surging through her as it was through him.  He thought of the irony now.  It took some doing to convince her that sleeping with her teammate would not bring downfall and ruin.  Rollin may have been the one to persuade her to ignore the rules, but Jim, who would never have been able to convince her or even himself, would reap the benefit of Rollin’s persuasive talents.

He lined up his empty bottle with the other two on the railing and opened another. Rollin still wasn’t ready to sleep. He stared at the water.

He didn’t hear her car pull up, but saw her cross the beach from between the houses. She looked like an angel. Her long, soft pink dress wafted in the breeze, back lit by the moonbeams.

Cinnamon stopped on the bottom step of the stairs up to his deck. She called to him softly. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He lowered his bottle to the railing and leaned forward, pleased to see her, but also wary. “Me neither.”

She continued, “I had a bad dream. I dreamt I was on this difficult assignment and couldn’t see you. To make matters worse, we had a terrible flight back and then when we finally got home you didn’t want to see me.
And I couldn’t figure out what I did wrong.”

Rollin stood slowly. “In my dream, I really did want to see you, but I was thwarted at every turn – by a rival.”

“A rival?” Cinnamon asked.

Rollin nodded. “That’s how it looked to me.”

Cinnamon considered his response. It explained lots of things now. She sighed. “Thank goodness it was all just a dream.”

Rollin didn’t answer. He was still wary. Cinnamon tried another tact. “Did you really say thwarted?”

“Yeah.” Rollin nodded. “Thwarted.”

“I see.” Cinnamon smiled. “Rollin,” her voice turned low and throaty. “You have no rivals. Not in my heart.”

Rollin beamed.

Cinnamon sighed, “I know what you said on the phone, but … please don’t send me away.”

“I’ll never send you away.” His eyes never left hers as he moved to the top of the stairs. She climbed the steps gracefully. Before she reached the top he reached for the bags she had in either hand and tossed them onto a
chaise. He pulled her into his arms. “But I am surprised to see you.”

Cinnamon looked at him quizzically. “There’s no place I would rather be.” She shook her head. “How can I convince you?”

Rollin smiled. He kissed her passionately, claiming her.

Cinnamon nestled against his chest. “Hold me.”

“With pleasure.” Rollin’s sigh of relief confused Cinnamon further. She turned to search his eyes. He avoided her gaze and turned his head toward the chaise. “What’s in the bags?”

“Provisions.”

“You went to the grocery store? “

“That late night one on PCH. My guess was there wouldn’t be a crumb in the house.”

“Good guess. How about a bathing suit?”

“In the other bag. Do we need anything else?”

He caressed her chin, turning her face to meet his lips. “No.  I bet neither one of us will have a bad dream now.” His lips trailed down her neck as his hands played across her body.

“Really?” Cinnamon teased, melting against him, enjoying his touch.

Rollin’s lips played across her chest. “I can practically guarantee it.”

Cinnamon was on to him. “Is that because we won’t be sleeping?”

Rollin laughed as he nibbled her playfully. “Can’t dream if we don’t sleep.”

“Can’t function if we don’t sleep.” Cinnamon parried.

Rollin reached for the bags, grabbing both with one hand and used his other to guide her through the door into the bungalow. “I thought you were going to be convincing me there was no place you’d rather be?”

She stopped him before they crossed the threshold and reached for his chin. “Rollin Hand, where am I?”

He leaned his forehead against hers. “With me.”

Cinnamon nodded, “With you. Where I want to be. Where I belong.” She reached up to touch her lips to his. “I love you.”

Rollin smiled, “I love you.”

“Take me to bed before I curl up to sleep in the sand.”

She pleaded fatigue, but it didn’t take long for his amorous caresses to awaken her.  He made love to her slowly, skillfully, unselfishly.  They woke with the sun as it streamed in through the bare windows where he had neglected to close the curtains.  He drew them shut then drew her back into his arms and tirelessly satisfied her again and again.  She knew he needed reassurance that she was indeed his.  It was late afternoon when they finally emerged from bed.

The phone rang. This time it was Jim.

“Well, well, well.” Rollin murmured as he replaced the phone.

“He wouldn’t say anything over the phone.”

“No.  He wants to meet me tomorrow afternoon.  His place.  The plot thickens.”

Cinnamon sighed and laced her arms through his, laying her chin against his chest.  “Maybe. And maybe it’s nothing.”

Rollin pursed his lips and sent his lower jaw to the right – a grimace Cinnamon knew meant that he was not convinced.  “Maybe.”

“I’ll check my service.”  Cinnamon placed the call and listened to her messages.  “Nothing from Jim.”

“You’re the innocent.  He probably figures I corrupted you.”

Cinnamon couldn’t help but smile.  “Rollin, there’s nothing we can do about it.  Let’s not worry about it today.  We’ll know tomorrow. Come on, I brought some steaks.  Let’s go for a long walk then come back and you can build me a fire, we’ll have a nice dinner, and then we can be hermits ‘til you have to see Jim.”

Rollin smiled.  He knew she was gamely trying to play his role in their relationship. Somehow he didn’t feel very carefree about his impending confrontation with Jim.  But he didn’t want to disappoint her.  “Lemme get my suit.”

The walk, a swim, a quiet dinner, and more time in bed loving her took his mind off the meeting.  They slept until noon and lay together tangled in the sheets as the new day unfolded.  Rollin knew he would have to shower and shave and drive into town soon.  He grazed Cinnamon’s bare shoulder with his lips.

She turned to face him.  His voice was low.  “What if he says we can’t see each other?”

Cinnamon sighed.  “Let’s wait ‘til we know what he says.”

“Well what if he comes right out and asks me about us? I’m not going to lie.”  Cinnamon nodded.  Rollin watched her closely.  “And I’m not going to give you up.”

He saw her involuntary gulp.  Did he mean that he’d leave the force first, if given an ultimatum?  If she thought he did mean that, could she say the same thing herself?  Was she able to leave the IMF for him?

“Rollin, you’re too many steps ahead on this.”

“Isn’t that where we’ve been trained to be?  I just want to know what you’re comfortable having me say.”

“I want you to say what you want – whatever it is.”

“But what if-“

“Exactly, Rollin.  What if?  There are too many what if’s.  You just need to hear Jim out and say whatever you think is right.”  She pulled herself closer and kissed him deeply.  “It’s not like you to worry,” she teased.

Rollin sighed and leaned toward her to continue the kiss.  He reluctantly broke it off to get ready to go.

He accepted Jim’s offer of scotch and watched him pour two short ones.

“Get any rest?” Jim asked.

Rollin was wary. “Yeah a bit.  How ‘bout you?”

“Yes.  It’s nice to be on solid ground.”

Rollin raised his glass to Jim’s.  “Hear hear.”

“Cinnamon seemed pretty uncomfortable on the flight.  I’m sure she’s glad to be back.”

Rollin met Jim’s eye.  “Yeah. I bet everybody is.”

Jim held his stare, then nodded.  “Listen, Rollin.  I know we’re just back, but I remember you saying you didn’t have any acting roles pending.” 

Rollin nodded, not sure where this was going. 

Jim took a sip, then continued.  “Well given that you’re available, I want you to go to language school for the next month.”

Rollin frowned.  “Language school?”

“They’re about to start a Russian module.  There was one place available and I asked them to hold it for you.” 

“Jim, I speak Russian.” Rollin’s frown was intense.

“It’s advanced written and oral.”

Rollin did little to hide his lack of enthusiasm for Jim’s plan.  “But why just me? Why aren’t Willy and Barney coming?” 

Jim shrugged calmly.  “They both speak Russian well enough for the kinds of roles they play and they both have great reading comprehension of Cyrillic, much higher than yours.”

Rollin knew his reading comprehension of the unique alphabet was weak. The same was true for his Arabic and he hadn’t even made an attempt to study Chinese or Japanese characters.  He was much stronger verbally than with the unusual alphabets.  “Well, what about you and Cinnamon?”

Jim smiled.  “In the month we’ve been working as a team, I’ve seen Cinnamon read Dostoevsky in the original text.”

Rollin drained his glass and left it on the bar.  “Yeah all right, but what about you?”

“You’re right.  I need a total immersion class.  I’m not even as fluent as you are, Rollin.  But I can’t join you on this session.  We’ve got something pressing.  We’ll probably get back around the time the class finishes four weeks from now.”

“You’re all on to something without me?” 

“Rollin, I’ve got to make the call.  With the plan I’ve developed, I don’t need you on this next assignment.  I know we’ll be gone three to four weeks. The language people are running the Cyrillic module at the same time, you’re not up to anything in your other profession that might interfere... it just makes sense. “ 

Rollin didn’t respond and Jim was well aware that the man of a thousand faces was less than pleased.  “Think of it this way, Rollin.  After you’re back, I can cast you in even bigger parts.”

“Ho ho ho.”  But he knew there was no sense resisting further.  “When do I need to leave?” 

“Tomorrow, 8 am.  Go to the facility.  They’ve made the transport arrangements.”

“Yeah.  All right.” He searched Jim’s eyes as he shook his hand.  The boss was enigmatic today and Rollin couldn’t pick up any further information.  “See you in four weeks.”

Rollin pulled his Mustang out of the garage.  He knew this was his last chance to see Cinnamon for four weeks.  He knew she’d be back at her place by now.  Suddenly he was paranoid about going to her apartment.  He turned left instead of right and drove to Joey’s.  

“Hey Rollin.  Long time no see.”

“Hi Joe.  I need a drink and a phone.”

“Sure thing.” 

Rollin sipped his scotch on the rocks as Cinnamon’s line rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” 

“Hi you.  Jim just called. The apartment at eight tomorrow morning.”

“Not me.  He’s shipping me out.”

“Wha-?  Where are you?”

“Joey’s.”

“Wait for me.”

“Bye.”

Cinnamon tried to focus on her driving but all she could think about was Jim dropping Rollin from the team.  Was he also being shipped out of the force?  What had Rollin meant?  She hurried into the bar.  She gave Joey a wave and a smile.  “A cup of your finest, sir.”

“Yes ma’am.”  Joey’s nod indicated the rear of the bar.  She wasn’t surprised to find Rollin slouched in their favorite booth in the back. 

She had dropped the friendly smile she had shared with Joey and her face reflected all of her concern.  She whispered as she slid into the booth to sit opposite Rollin. “How can he just ship you out?  You’re critical to the team.  Your record…”

Rollin reached for her hand.  “Not out of the force, at least not yet.  He’s sending me to language school.”

Cinnamon was relieved.  “Rollin, when you said –“

“Sorry.”  He squeezed her hand.  She sighed again.  “Hey, it’s still pretty terrible.  He sends me to study Cyrillic for a month while you’ll be who knows where with him.”

Cinnamon smiled.  “Yes, I will miss you, but this could have happened any time.  It doesn’t mean Jim knows about our relationship.”

“He wants me out of the picture.   I’m being sidelined.”

“Rollin –“ Cinnamon sat back as Joey delivered her coffee.

“Anything else, Mr. Hand?”

“No, thanks, Joey.”  They waited for Joey to return to the bar.

Cinnamon reached across the table for his hand again.  “You do sound a little paranoid.”

“Thanks for your support.”

“How many of those have you had?”

“Just one.  Well, two.”

“I just mean I think you’re taking it all a little personally.”

“How should I take it? I think he wants me away from you for awhile.”  Rollin released her hand and sat back against the red leatherette bench.

Cinnamon took a sip of coffee to think through her response.  “You have no reason to believe that.  When he saw us together your excuse was perfectly legitimate.”

“It’s a conspiracy – a deliberate move by Jim to not just separate us, but also to have you all to himself.”

“Rollin!  That’s not how it is.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’d know!  Give me a little credit here.  I think I’d know if Jim was interested in me.”

“Perhaps he’s more subtle than some of your other suitors.”

Cinnamon decided to let it go.  “Jim would never break the rules.”

“He might for you.”

She recognized it as a back handed compliment.  “Rollin, you’re being inconsistent.  He can’t be a stickler for rules AND be interested in a member of his team.”

Cinnamon knew he would be tough to convince.  She opened her purse and withdrew pen and paper. She wrote a short note in Cyrillic and passed it to him.

He didn’t reach for it.  “All right. Point taken – I can’t read it.”

Her voice was low.  “It says ‘I love you, even though you are the jealous type.’”

Rollin sighed and leaned forward across the table to hold her elbows.  His eyes softened as they met hers. So did his voice. “I don’t like it when you’re on assignments without me.”

Cinnamon nodded.  There were very few missions they had not tackled together.  One of times he wasn’t there was Andre Fetyukov.  He didn’t want Cinnamon in another of those situations, especially if he wasn’t near.  Cinnamon knew that was what he was thinking.  She reached for his long fingers and caressed them, interlacing her own.  “Rollin, I’m a big girl.”

He was pouting and didn’t respond.  She reached for his chin.  “Take me to dinner.  Let’s have a nice night before…”

Rollin shook her off.  “You’ve got an early meeting.  I’ve got to get back and pack so I can get shipped off to academia at dawn.”

“And when has that stopped you?  It takes you five minutes to pack and you know it.   I bet we can get to Tino’s before the sun sets.”   Her sultry voice brought a smile to his face.  He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed her hand softly. 

The next morning a company car drove him northeast to the remote language skills training center.  The next four weeks would be miserable, but she’d given him a weekend worth replaying.  It would be the longest they had ever been apart. 

The memories kept him company as he was immersed on site for four weeks reading, writing, and speaking only in Russian.  He spent most nights lying in bed conjuring images of Cinnamon.  Sundays were free days, but there was no place to go and with Cinnamon, Barney and Willy on a mission, no one to visit him.

After three weeks he received a message to call Barney at Collier Electronics.  Rollin was excited to call.  Marge Landingham answered Barney’s line.

“Hi Mrs. Landingham. It’s Rollin Hand.”

“Why hello, Mr. Hand. Mr. Collier asked me to interrupt his meeting if you called. Just one moment please.”

“Certainly.  Thanks.”

Barney was on quickly.  “You miss me?” he teased.

“Desperately.  Everybody okay?”

“Fine.  Listen, I have to drive up your way.  Can you get out of there Saturday afternoon and meet me for some fishing?”

“Fishing?”

Barney’s tone intensified.  “Come on, Rollin.   You know you love to fish – all that time fiddling with the bait.” 

Barney’s emphasis on bait brought a smile to Rollin’s face.  Barney had information about Cinnamon.  “Okay you got me – hook, line and sinker.”  Enough fish metaphors, still it was a little worrying.  Why hadn’t she called him herself?  “But Barney, you’re sure I’ll like it?”

“I’m certain you will.  You’ve got nothing to worry about. Can you get a ride to the Lodge, say Saturday at one?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Great. I’ll get us some rooms. You sure you can get out Saturday?”

“I’ve been a model student.”

“There’s a first.”

Rollin felt free as the company car dropped him at the lodge.  He carried his bag to the front desk.  Barney met him there with a friendly backslap.  “I saw the tell-tale black Lincoln.”

Rollin clasped Barney’s hand.  “Nothing but subtle.  Careful, you’re an accomplice now.” 

“Why don’t you leave your bag here. Want some lunch? I booked a table on the patio.”

“Definitely.”  As they crossed the lobby, Rollin noticed a striking black woman enter the bar.  He tugged at Barney’s sleeve.   “Barney, a beautiful woman who looks amazingly like the former Miss Paula DeVries just walked into the bar.”

Barney smiled.  “Really? She with a gorgeous blonde?” 

Barney diverted Rollin toward the dark and secluded bar.  Immediately Rollin realized Cinnamon was sitting next to Paula.  Barney continued toward the ladies.  He reached for his wife’s hand and assisted her out of her chair and toward the patio. “We’ll meet you at the table.”

Rollin pulled Cinnamon close as she rose from her chair, burying his lips under her hair, inhaling her scent, feeling her soft skin against his cheek.  “You okay?” 

Cinnamon nodded.  “Fine.”

“Lady spy, I’ve missed you.”

She sighed.  “Hmmm…Me too.”  She caressed his cheek, bringing his lips to hers and kissing him softly.  “How’s your Russian?”  She whispered.

He lent against her and whispered in perfect Russian.  “I can think of a lot of things I want to do with you that would be a lot more fun than fishing.  Let’s get a room.”

Cinnamon was not surprised at his directness.  She replied in Russian, “We’ve got a room.  And I have no intention of doing any fishing.”

He inhaled deeply and met her eyes before capturing her lips with his.  “How much does Paula know?”

“Only that we all have to be very discrete.  The good news is, she loves to fish.”

Rollin laughed, “Thank you for doing this.”

“Thank Mr. Collier.  It was his idea.”

Rollin’s raised his eyebrow in surprise.  “Well if I go buy him and his lovely wife a nice lunch, do I get to spend the rest of the afternoon alone with you?”

“Just the afternoon?”

Rollin’s grin stretched his face to the limit.  “Really?”

“Really.  I turn into a pumpkin just after your first class Monday morning.”  She smiled over her shoulder as she led him by the hand to the patio.

Rollin greeted Paula with a kiss.  “Thank you for your part in this … mission.”  Barney gave him a glare. “…of mercy.”

Paula smiled, “Our pleasure.”

The quartet sat at the round table in the shade of a tall oak.  Barney had arranged for a bottle of champagne on ice.  Rollin continued.  “Really Barney, thanks.  I was miserable.”

Barney smiled.  “I had to do it. I couldn’t watch Miss Carter moping around for another moment.”

Cinnamon blushed.  Rollin was delighted, “Really?”  He took her hand in his.

Barney leaned forward conspiratorially.  “There’s another reason too.”  He reached for Paula’s hand and looked to her to continue.

“We figured since you trusted us with your secret, we’d let you in on ours.   We’re having a baby.”

Cinnamon was joyous. “Oh Paula!  Barney! That’s wonderful news!”

Rollin quickly rose out of his seat to kiss Paula’s cheek.  “Congratulations, Paula.”  He turned to clasp Barney’s arm and shake his hand.  “Frankly, I’m surprised you were in town long enough…”

“Quality and focus.” Barney said with great seriousness, accepting Cinnamon’s hug.

Rollin reached for the bottle.  “May I propose a toast to the lovely and radiant Mrs. Collier and her stupendously lucky husband.”

“Hear! Hear!” Cinnamon added.  “How do you feel?”

Paula shrugged.  “So far fine.”

“And you want to fish?”  Cinnamon was incredulous.

“I love to fish. When I was little, my daddy took me all the time.”

The process of ordering and discussion of babies and fishing filled the lunch.  Just as well thought Rollin as he couldn’t ask about Jim without asking about the mission and knew he shouldn’t do either in front of Paula.  Over coffee, Cinnamon slipped her foot out of her shoe.  Her toes caressed Rollin’s shin under his trouser leg.  He wasn’t wearing any socks.

Paula picked up on the toesies and smiled when she realized she and Barney had become extraneous.  “Barney, are the rooms guaranteed or do we need to check in?”

Barney read her immediately and rose.  “Let’s be on the safe side and check in.”

Rollin slipped the do not disturb sign over the doorknob and locked the door.  He tossed his bag and Cinnamon’s on the floor and pulled her into his embrace. 

His tongue teased her lips before his mouth captured hers in a deep, wet kiss.  He broke away reluctantly.  “You sure you don’t mind missing the fishing trip?”

“Positive.”  Cinnamon pulled him with her to sit on the edge of the bed.  She kicked off her shoes and reached for his pigskin jacket, sliding it off his shoulders.

Rollin shrugged off the jacket, then pulled her back against him, nibbling her neck.  “You don’t wonder how they’re biting?”

Cinnamon shook her head.  “Fish are the farthest thing from my mind.”  She smoothed her hands across his black T-shirt.

Rollin pulled back to unbuckle the belt of her navy dress and slip it through its loops and onto the rug.  Next he moved for the large square button at the top of her dress.   He examined it, then twisted it open with one nimble hand movement.  He quickly made his way down the line of buttons and opened her dress.  When he finished, Cinnamon took his hands and placed them on her hips.  She tilted her head to the side as his lips traced the tendon in her neck.  She removed his belt and opened his trousers.  He raised his T-shirt over his head.

He stopped kissing her to slide her dress down her arms.  He smoothed the silk slip against her skin and pressed her back onto the bed, his lips buried between her breasts. 

“Cinnamon, you smell wonderful.  I’ve been imagining you every night.  I wish I had your perfume with me.”

His lips closed over hers and she could not answer.  Finally he moved to lower the strap of her slip.  Her tongue teased his ear.  “Rollin, I really missed you.”

“Hmmm, I spent the whole time imagining doing this to you.”  His hand ran up her leg.  “My God, you ARE wearing those thigh high stockings.”

Cinnamon chuckled, “Your favorites.”  She nibbled on his neck.

He raised her slip and unhooked her garters, running his fingers the long line of her thighs.  “Jim wouldn’t be very happy if he knew this was how I spent my vacation from Russian school.”

Cinnamon sighed, “Rollin, are you still worried about that?”  She stopped kissing him.

Rollin was confused.  “Did he say something to you?”

“Rollin, I don’t think he will.   I think you’re the jealous one.”

He tried to win her back with a smile.  “You should be flattered.”

“I guess I am, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” She sighed again.  “I know you don’t as far as I’m concerned.”

Rollin rolled onto his back, holding her near.  “So Jim hasn’t figured it out?”

“Well I’m not sure of that.”

“Then he doesn’t mind?”

“I’m not sure about that either.” Cinnamon rolled onto her elbows to meet his eyes.  “Details are important to Jim. He’s the master planner.  We need to be more careful with him like we first were with Dan.”

Rollin slid up the bed to rest against the pillows, pulling her with him.  “So we have to keep sneaking around.”

Cinnamon smiled and traced his lips. “You love sneaking around.”

Rollin laughed.  It was true.  He kissed her fingers.  “Maybe not all the time.”

“Did Dan ever say anything to you?”  Cinnamon asked softly.

“Just once.  Last month, when he told me he was moving into planning full-time, coming out of the field.”

“What did he say?”

Rollin hesitated.  He wanted to share everything, but it would take the conversation into new territory – territory he wasn’t quite sure about.  “I asked him if his decision had anything to do with Crystal. He said it had everything to do with Crystal.  And he said it was something I needed to think about seriously too.”

Cinnamon understood his hesitation.  “Crystal … she wants … the storybook.  She wouldn’t leave the circus and settle down for anything else.”

“What do you want Cinnamon?”

“You.  I want you Rollin.”  She pulled herself across his body, entwined her legs with his and kissed him deeply.

He knew that discussion could wait.

<return to retirement>