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Chapter Text

February 2014: ‘Brrr, Brrr … Brrr, Brrr.’ Piers Nivans picked up the jangling phone on his desk. “You’ve reached Lieutenant Nivans.”

“Hi Ace, listen, I’ve just had a call from some lady Lieutenant in Washington. She wants to do an interview with you, for the BSAA magazine.”

“No!”

“I already told her yes.”

“What! Why?”

“Cos I think it will be good for you. To talk, about us and stuff, you know, learn to lighten up a little? Now you're back and re-instated, it will build your stock up with Command. Get you some exposure or whatever they call it.”

“I’m a sniper! I don’t want to be exposed! It’s my worst nightmare.”

“Ha! Too late for that Ace!”

“Christopher! What’s it about anyway, this interview?”

“Me apparently. Ha, ha, ha! And who better to ask? She’s arriving tomorrow morning.”

“But …”

“Byee.”

“… Arghh!”

And that’s how it happened …

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Hello Readers, yes, the interview you’ve all been waiting for!  Alpha’s Ace talks about life with Captain Legend.

An exclusive BSAA Monthly interview about the legend that is Captain Chris Redfield. Conducted with the man who knows him best, and a legend in his own right, Lieutenant Captivated, Piers Nivans.

Your interviewer is 2nd Lieutenant Janet Cooper, Assistant Press Officer, BSAA NAB:

BM:  Welcome Lieutenant, thank you for finding the time to talk to BSAA Monthly today.

PN:  Hello. You have 30 minutes and a maximum of 20 questions, whichever ends sooner.

BM:  Er, yes, of course I’m sure you’re a busy man. Can I begin by asking how you are? How’s your, um, special arm … ?

PN:  I thought we were here to talk about Captain Redfield?

BM:  We are, I was just trying to get you to relax. Can you tell our readers any more about the events in China last year?

PN:  No. That remains classified. 28 minutes and 18 to go.

BM:  Quite, er, so, straight down to business. Captain Redfield then, what’s it like living with a legend?

PN:  Serving with Captain Redfield is a privilege and an honor.

BM:  Yes, but what’s it like actually living with him? In the, um, Deuce of Hearts. Is that right, your new home?

PN:  Like I said, serving with Captain Redfield is a privilege and an honor. 26 minutes and 16.

BM:  You’re both very private people then?

PN:  Yes. 25 and 15.

BM:  Perhaps we could do without the countdown Lieutenant?

PN:  As you wish.

BM:  We all know about the Captain’s past. His time in the US Air Force, STARS, helping to found the BSAA. His romantic search for Major Valentine, his heroic pursuit and final vanquishing of Albert Wesker. But what makes him a legend to you?

PN:  You’ve just said it.

BM:  (Oh dear!) Okay. Let’s try another tack. Does he have any weaknesses?

PN:  Like?

BM:  Well, like his loathing for administrative work for example? That’s legendary.

PN:  Um, yeah, heh, heh.

BM:  (At last, the merest hint of a smile.)  Why is that?

PN:  He’s not the sort of man to lead from behind a desk. He prefers to be in the field, in the midst of the action. Being in an office, doing paperwork, I think he feels confined, restricted. He’s a doer, not a thinker.

BM:  Oh, so he’s thoughtless?

PN:  What? No, I didn’t mean that! For Captain Redfield, actions speak louder than words, that’s what I meant!

BM:  Alright. Anything else?

PN:  Well, he doesn’t like hospitals very much.

BM:  Why is that, do you think?

PN:  I, er, I think they’re places of sadness for him. He’s seen a lot of that in his life. Hospitals encapsulate that for him.

BM:  I see, interesting. Any other weaknesses? Something our readers might find amusing.

PN:  Er, well, he does have a thing about donuts …

BM:  Donuts!

PN:  Yes. We can’t drive by a donut shop but we have to stop and get some. And his morning coffee has to come with a donut, or he gets kinda’ cranky. And with his afternoon coffee too.

BM:  He likes his coffee?

PN:  Yes … and donuts.

BM:  That’s great. No, really! And, you heard it here first readers. Tell us about your new home, the Deuce of Hearts. It’s still being refurbished right?

PN:  Yes. Chris … Captain Redfield chose the name himself. It’s kinda’ cheesy, but he liked it.

BM:  Ha, ha! So he has a sense of humor then?

PN:  Erm, your next question please.

BM:  It was the old Ranger’s lodge I understand?

PN:  I don’t know how old the Ranger was, but the house dates back to the 50’s I guess. Captain Redfield is doing lots of the woodwork himself. Furniture, a new staircase. He would have made a good carpenter.

BM:  He’s good with his hands then?

PN:  Yeh. He made a beautiful dining table and chairs for his parents. He’s kept it all this time in his own home. Now it will grace our new home.

BM:  Does he talk about them much?

PN:  No.

BM:  (Ouch, a cold look!)  Moving swiftly on then. He has one nickname, Dadfield. Would you care to expand on that?

PN:  Captain Redfield has this concept that all the members of the NAB, especially Alpha SOU, are his family. He looks out for them, cares for them, just like a good parent would. Not just in combat, but here on base, at home. He has their six on and off the field. I’ve never known an officer like him. It’s inspirational to any junior officer.

BM:  Alpha Team, they’re very close to his heart?

PN:  Yes, there’s a particularly special bond. It goes very deep. They kinda’ adore him, especially our rookie, Finn Macauley.

BM:  How does he cope with the casualties, with loss?

PN:  Like all of us, he takes it very personally. Too personally sometimes.

BM:  Another weakness?

PN:  No! Never! It’s a strength. It gives him his humanity. He’s not the uncaring, gung-ho action man everyone thinks he is. He’s not the one who created the legend.

BM:  You mean it’s an act?

PN:  I’m sorry, I’ve said enough. 15 and 10.

BM:  But that’s the purpose of this interview, surely?

PN:  Look! Chris didn’t set out to create the legend. It’s not conscious on his part. It’s how others choose to see him. He’s the least boastful, least vain man I’ve ever known. He has good cause to be, but he isn’t.

BM:  (Wow! Some feeling from Lieutenant Cool, Calm and Collected at last!) So the legend is a myth?

PN:  His exploits are legendary, sure, they form a large part of the NAB’s history. But the man himself is human, humble. The legend is hard for him to bear at times. That’s what I try to do, help him bear it. It’s a heavy load. My job is to share it with him.

BM:  Hmm, Bearfield, that’s another nickname isn’t it? Is that forced upon him too?

PN:  Um, it came from his sister Claire I think. From when he was raising her. He was very protective of her.

BM:  So he has some issues then? Anger? Impulsiveness? People say he can be hotheaded.

PN:  …

BM:  (For the benefit of our readers, I have just been given the famous eye-roll stare of Alpha’s Ace sniper. Time to move on I think!) Lieutenant Nivans, perhaps you could describe a typical weekend for our readers?

PN:  In combat?

BM:  Er, no. We have some articles planned about combat. I mean out of working hours. How does Chris Redfield relax?

PN:  The Captain, and I, have a rule. We don’t discuss work related issues at home …

BM:  That wasn’t my question.

PN:  … and so we don’t discuss home matters here on base.

BM:  Ah, I see. Well, just for an instance, the Captain’s post-operations parties on base are also the stuff of legend. Do you party often at home?

PN:  I beg your pardon!

BM:  (Ooh, that look again readers!) I mean do you entertain at home a lot, or do you prefer to go out?

PN:  We do have team parties, but they are mainly held outside. Inside is pretty much our private domain.

BM:  It was Saint Valentines Day recently. How did the Captain celebrate it? Did he celebrate it with you?

PN:  He wanted to go camping. He thinks candlelit dinners are, um, inappropriate.

BM:  But he didn’t did he? There was a party in the mess, something about a drinking competition? The New St Valentine’s Day Massacre I believe it was called?

PN:  That wasn’t Chris’ fault! He was set up by Alpha!

BM:  His own team?

PN:  They’re experts! He trained them himself.

BM:  So work hard, play hard?

PN:  Captain Redfield puts his all into the work of the BSAA. He doesn’t get much opportunity to let off steam.

BM:  Does he have no hobbies then? Apart from his carpentry?

PN:  He used to be a keen fly-fisherman. Salmon and trout. But he doesn’t get much time for any hobbies these days. He does a lot of gym and we both like hiking, but that’s more for work.

BM:  Who does the housework?

PN:  I do.

BM:  Who does the cooking?

PN:  We share that … Look, is any of this relevant?

BM:  These are just the sort of things our readers are interested in.  Do you have any pets at home?

PN:  No. The Captain doesn’t think they fit in with our operational lifestyle. He believes pets are an additional and unnecessary responsibility.  Like giving interviews.

BM:  You seem a little disappointed at that. (He’s pouting now readers)

PN:  I understand the Captain’s views on the matter.

BM:  But you don’t necessarily accept them?

PN:  I didn’t say that! 30 minutes. Your time’s up.

BM:  (At this point I checked my watch, Lieutenant Nivans was correct.) You haven’t looked at your watch once during this interview.

PN:  I don’t need to, it’s in-built.

BM:  Amazing!  So you bring your sniper-honed sense of timing to your Captain’s life on and off the battlefield too? You bring order to chaos?

PN:  I’m his No.2, not his carer! And that’s your 20 questions used.

BM:  (Only now do I get the famous dazzling Nivans’ smile. I have to say it was worth the wait.) It’s been a pleasure Lieutenant Nivans. I think we’ve learnt more about you than Captain Redfield in the last half hour.

PN:  Thank you, that was my intention.

And so there you have it readers. Donut loving, pet hating Chris Redfield. Legend or myth? Captain Bearfield or Captain Dadfield? You can make your own mind up. One thing’s for sure, with the ever faithful Piers Nivans around, who needs a guard dog?

In next month’s issue we turn the tables. Will Chris Redfield spill the beans about Alpha’s Ace? Wish me luck! Perhaps I should come bearing donuts … ?

************************

Chris Redfield mouthed the words as he read. When he’d finished reading the article, he closed the magazine with a perceptible sigh.

“It’s a disaster isn’t it?” said Piers forlornly. “I come out sounding like some sort of obsessive control freak.”

“Well, at least it’s not all lies then Ace.”

“Oh, haw, haw! I told you I wasn’t ready for this sort of exposure yet.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not too bad. Unlike most of the press we get.”

“Chris, she called me Lieutenant Captivated. I’ll never live that down!”

“Oh yeh, sorta’ rhymes with Captain Legend. Captain Legend and his Captivated Lieutenant. Ha! Very funny.”

“It’s not funny, and don’t keep saying it! I should have demanded full editorial control.”

“Says the man who claims not to be OCD. Chill Piers. At least something good’s come out of it.”

“What’s that?”

“She’s gonna’ bring me some donuts when it’s my turn.”

Chapter Text

Well Dear Readers, today’s the day I get to meet Captain Legend, Chris Redfield. The idea being to get an insight into his No.2, Lieutenant Piers Nivans. I have to say I’m a little nervous. I haven’t meet him before and I didn’t find out much about him from his tight lipped deputy in last month’s interview. People say Captain Redfield is the man who put the silence into taciturn! I don’t know if it’s the Bearfield or the Dadfield persona I’m going to be interviewing today. All I do know is that everyone in D.C. said ‘Good luck with that!’ when they heard where I was going!

************************

I have no idea what to expect, but my initial reaction is surprise. He’s actually about 6'2 (I asked him later) But he seems much taller in the flesh, large and powerfully built. He has an undeniable 'presence’. His face is dark, brooding. Underneath a hooded brow, I can see just two pinpoints of light. His brown eyes boring into me. They make me feel guilty for something I have’t even done! He’s a Heathcliff to my Cathy, a Mr Darcy to my Elizabeth. I fluff my introduction and he laughs. BOOM! It’s like a gun going off in my face. Then his eyes soften and his craggy countenance dissolves into a mischievous little boy smile. It’s true what they say, he is brutally handsome! I have to constantly remind myself that I’m here to find out about his partner on and off the battlefield, Lieutenant Piers Nivans, not the Captain himself. Sorry if that all sounds gushing, but a gal’s first impressions count! Right?

I put the promised box of donuts on his desk. Not easy, it’s a mass of scattered papers and files. He sweeps a big hand and brushes some off to make a space. “Donuts! You can interview me any day. Ha, ha, ha!” He laughs a lot; nobody told me about that. Then, like a true gentleman, he offers me the box before diving in himself. It’s time for my first question, but it wasn’t the first one on my list.

BM:  Um, do you have a favorite Captain? Jelly, or cream perhaps?

CR:  Ha! Sticky and stickier! (he says, licking large fingers) I love them all! And call me Chris, all my friends do.

BM:  Oh, but you’re the Captain Redf …

CR:  I know who I am! People keep on about it as if I don’t know! Ha! So Kiddo, you wanna’ know all about Piers?

BM:  Yes Capt … (I get a look!) … er, Chris.

CR:  (He studies me, as if carefully weighing me up. Am I really a friend or a foe?) Well, for a start I can tell you he’s not happy with this Captivated Lieutenant tag you’ve given him …

BM:  It’s Lieutenant Captivated, Chris, the other way round.

CR:  Is it? Well, whichever way it is he’s not a happy puppy … Oh, I didn’t say that, er can you rub that bit out? I’ve had enough pouts and raised eyebrows as it is since you interviewed him last month. As if it was my fault! So you’d better think of something else PDQ. Capiche?

BM:  Er, yes Capt … Chris. (I’m trying hard to keep up with his loquacity) Perhaps you could suggest something he would like?

CR:  Hmm, well he often says he’s 'The best in the BSAA’.

BM:  What at?

CR:  Everything. Ha!

BM:  It’s a bit of a mouthful.

CR:  Yes. Ha, ha, ha! Sorry, private joke. (Is he blushing? It’s hard to tell under the permanent 5 o'clock shadow) Ooh, I know! Ace! He likes that, it’s what I call him.

BM:  Perfect! Short and sweet. Um, can I ask what he calls you?

CR:  Depends what kinda’ mood he’s in. He tends not to pull his punches as my right-hand. Is this a family magazine? Cos’ some of them are rather, um, personal.

BM:  I guess so … we’re all family in the BSAA, isn’t that so?

CR:  Dammed right we are! We look after each other’s backs. On ops, and here, at home. Washington’s different I know, too much politics. That’s why I prefer to stay here, on the frontline.

BM:  Yes, your, er, Ace, did say that.

CR:  He’s a smart kid, trained him myself. So, what else do you wanna’ know?

BM:  (I glance down at my list. He’s trying to read it upside down, his lips moving silently as he does. He’s soo cute - sorry, but he is) Ok, what first attracted you to Lieutenant Nivans? (I get sharp glare) Um, professionally that is.

CR:  That’s easy! His ability to put a bullet into the head of a BOW at 2 clicks. I wanted the best sniper I could get. Piers was, and still is the best. (I can sense his pride readers. He actually puffs his already impressive chest out a bit more)

BM:  That was the about same time you changed SOU combat tactics?

CR:  Yeh, it was a chicken and egg situation. I like chickens, but I have to be careful with the eggs sometimes. (????) Anywho, the new tactics meant we needed a marksman on the SOU’s. I couldn’t demonstrate their effectiveness to Command without the best sniper/marksman in the business. Piers came on the market at exactly the right time.

BM:  Just that? He was a sniper, nothing more?

CR:  (He’s silent for a moment) I thought perhaps we might have some adventures ya’ know, when I interviewed him.

BM:  And you obviously have.

CR:  Ha! We’ve certainly done that. We’ve both been to hell and back.

BM:  Edonia, Lanshiang?

CR:  Yeh, and Marhawa Academy before them. I’ve seen Piers mature all the time, kinda’ like watching myself as a kid growing up.

BM:  So that’s what you wanted from him? What did he want?

CR:  'A cause’ he said at his interview. I can remember it like it was yesterday.

BM:  And did he find it?

CR:  You’re looking at him. Ha! Dammed if I know why sometimes.

BM:  I’m sure we’re all grateful to him.

CR:  Make sure you say that. He didn’t get the recognition he deserved when he came home.

BM:  His, um, injury? (His face darkens suddenly, just those two pinpoints of light, looking into the distance. He doesn’t answer my question. I shouldn’t have asked it. I’m saved by a knock at his office door. It’s been left open since we started.

“It’s always open …” he said when I arrived, “… unless I’m thinking, after lunch.”

A round faced Corporal is standing there, he’s got dark curly hair and the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s grinning inanely)

CR:  Finny! Come in, don’t stand there. This is Janet, she’s interviewing me about Piers. I’m trying not to spill the beans. Janet, this is our rookie, Finn Macauley.

The Corporal nods at me. “I’m sorry Cap'in …” his voice is soft, Irish? “ … I didn’t want to intrude, but this is important.”

“What’s up Finny.”

“Well, I’ve been looking at the contents and combat usage of our medical kits on the SOUs. They’re not fit for purpose Cap'in.”

“Give me an f'rinstance Finn.”

“Personal Med Packs. We never have enough Type B and C wound dressings. And we never use the Type A’s, the little ones. Plus we could do with some Type D’s, like in the big pack I carry. My Gran says you can’t mend a broken heart with a band-aid.”

“Ha! She got that right. Anything else?”

“Morphine, plasma. They all get used up so quickly during first response. We need to carry more, enough to manage until the Clean-Up Team medics arrive. I’ve done all the stats, I know I’m right. There’s other things too. But I’m not getting anywhere with Command to get them changed. They say it’s what the US Army uses. But we’re not the army, we’re the BSAA, fighting bioterrorism.”

“That’s good enough for me Finn.” The Captain picks up his phone. “Get me Major Simms please … Hi, Eric? It’s Chris. I’m with Corporal Macauley … yes, Alpha’s medic … he’s got some changes he wants made to our medical kits … No, he has my full backing on this Eric, we need to make it happen … Yes. You free now? … Good, he’s on his way … Yes he is, the best … make it so Doc … Yeh, next time, thanks Eric.” he looks at the Corporal and smiles, just like a proud father. “There ya’ go Finny, all done. Go show Eric your stats. Oh, and take him one of these …” he offers up the box of donuts. “… Hmm, better make it two, a jam and cream one, he likes those. And have a couple yourself, alright?” The Corporal grins. “Thank you Sir.” he looks at me and grins some more. “Cap'in’s awesome Ma'am.”

BM:  And Lt Nivans? I ask, before he leaves with his stats and donuts.

“Oh, to be sure El Tee’s awesome too Ma'am. He just has a different way of showing it.”

BM:  He seems like a nice kid.

CR:  That kid got a bronze star in Edonia for fighting an Ogroman single handed. You should interview him next.

BM:  Gosh, let me get that down. He looks so young.

CR:  They all do. (He becomes silent again for a moment) Ok, moving swiftly on from Piers’ arm, what’s next on your list?

BM:  Uh, home life then. What does Lt Nivans bring to your home?

CR:  Ha! Cleanliness, order. You know, washed clothes, properly cooked food. He knows where everything is. If I put something down it’s cleaned and stowed away before you can blink.

BM:  I can believe that, he'e very, erm, meticulous.

CR:  If I knew what that meant I’m sure I’d agree with you. He’s certainly Mr Neat'nTidy. But I guess he thinks I need it. (Looking at the Captain’s Office that’s not hard to believe either) He brings the same high standards to Alpha. The boys love him.

“Who do we love Cap?” (There’s a lived-in face listening at the door, someone you’d definitely want on your side in a tight situation. An experienced looking SOU Sergeant.)

CR:  Andy, what a surprise, not! You on a recon?

“Heard you had company Boss. Good morning Ma'am, Andy Walker at your service. If you need to know anything, just talk to me first.” (A rascally smile, he’s a charmer)

CR:  And if he doesn’t know it Janet, believe me, he’ll make it up. Listen Andy, if you don’t actually want anything beat it! I’m a busy man today.“

"You cut me to the quick Cap. But perhaps you could talk to the local Sheriff. Bit of a problem in town last weekend.”

CR:  Get Piers to deal with it.

“Aww, Cap! He’ll go ape.”

CR:  Consider it your punishment. Dismiss Andy.

“Yes Boss. Oh, Ma'am, if you do want anything, and I mean anything, just ring this number, 24/7.” (he gives me a card and winks as he leaves)

CR:  That was Andy Walker, my senior sergeant. We go way, way back. He’s also our local police liaison officer.

BM:  Really?

CR:  Yeh, he knows all of their children and all of their names down at the station. I have to bail him out from there most Mondays.

BM:  He looks a bit of a rogue, but he sounds intriguing.

CR:  Janet, what’s the BSAA Monthly’s policy on heavy drinking leading to casual sex?

BM:  What! Oh, er, I don’t think we have one.

CR:  Neither does Andy. Gimme that card! (he tears it up and scatters the pieces over the litter already on the floor)

BM:  Chris, your team members seem to have a very informal attitude to rank and authority. But Lt Nivans didn’t strike me as being the same. How does he fit in?

CR:  Because he’s the best at what he does, and they know it. Even Andy can’t outfox him. And if Piers has got your six, you know you’re safe. The fact we’re all still alive is testimony to that. And you know what? Piers doesn’t demand a dammed thing in return. But they’d give him their all at the drop of a hat. He’s not just my Ace, he’s theirs as well. Oh, he huff and puffs at times, does that West Point eye-roll thing, but they’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty for him, and they’ll do it again.

BM:  So he’s your replacement? The future Captain Legend.

CR:  He’s already a legend. He doesn’t have to prove himself to anyone. Except one man.

BM:  Who’s that? Not you surely?

CR:  No, himself. Piers is his own worst critic. Get’s it from me I guess. Ha! What the … ! (There’s a sudden commotion outside in the corridor. Two children burst into the room. A young boy and a little girl. How does he ever get things done with these constant interruptions?) Hey! Robbie, Becky where’d you two spring from?

“Uncle Chris, Uncle Chris! Daddy said we could visit. We’re on a school trip around the base, but we’ve seen it all before. Can we stay? Who’s this? She’s pretty, is she your secerretary? Shes’ got a pencil and a notepad. Are you dictertating?”

CR:  Ha, ha, ha! No and no. Janet is from our HQ. She’s interviewing me, for the BSAA magazine. She’s asking me about Uncle Piers.

“Uncle Piers? Your bestest friend?

CR:  Yup, that’s the one. Now climb up here and introduce yourselves properly.

BM:  (He pats his knees, and the children clamber up, each cradled safely in a huge muscular arm. If he had a white beard and a red suit, I’d swear I was looking at Father Christmas. Or should that be Santafield?)

"How’d you do Ma'am. I’m Robbie Ellis Junior …”

“And I’m Becky Elly … Ellys … what he said.” (she’s got the cutest toothy smile)

CR:  My, my Robbie, you’re getting heavier every time. What are you, eight now?

“Eight and a half actually Uncle Chris!”

CR:  Oh yeh, mustn’t forget those halves. They all add up. Ha!

“And I’m four and three fourths.”

“And I’m exhausted!” (It’s another man in the doorway. A tall, craggy SOU Captain this time.)

CR:  Batman!

“Redwing! Sorry about the kids. Once they knew their Godfather was in the building, there was no stopping them! Here, let me take them off your hands, I didn’t know you had a visitor”

CR:  Batman, this is 2nd Lt Janet Cooper, from BSAA Monthly. Janet, this is Captain Rob Ellis, we go all the way back to the Air Force Academy in Colorado. Janet’s trying to get a scoop on Piers.

“Good luck with that Lieutenant. There’s concealment and then there’s Piers Nivans. He won’t give much away.”

BM:  That’s what I found out when I interviewed him last month Captain. It was like pulling teeth.

“He, he! That sounds like our Piers. Come on kids, let’s leave Uncle Chris in peace.”

“Aww!” says Robbie, “I wanna’ stay and listen.”

“And I’m soo tired! Uncle Chris is always cuddly and warm. Can’t we stay Daddy? Please?”

CR:  Let 'em stay Rob, or there’ll be tears.

“Yeh, mine! Ok, but you’d better behave! And you too, kids. Give them back when you’ve had enough Chris. I’ll be in my office inspecting my Mk.1 Sun Visors. (he nods at me, smiling) Lieutenant, nice to meet you.”

BM:  Captain … Er, Mk.1 Sun Visors?

CR:  He means the back of his eyelids.

BM:  Ah, Air Force talk! Are all your days like this Chris?

CR:  If I’m lucky. It beats fighting BOWs.

BM:  What about relaxation?

CR:  This is relaxation. And Piers keeps an eye on me. Another of his self-appointed tasks. It let’s me concentrate on the big picture, the NAB, the politics, that sorta’ stuff.

BM:  You don’t let Piers get involved in all that?

CR:  No, not yet. One day perhaps. He runs Alpha whilst I’m away, does my paperwork. It’s a good arrangement. And when we finish, he runs our home. I had my own house once. It was just a place where I lived, a limbo land, somewhere to pass the time in-between ops and visits to Command. Piers gives me a proper home, somewhere I look forward to leaving work for, somewhere to relax. Somewhere to feel loved I guess.

BM:  I imagine he does a good job.

CR:  Of course, he’s my Ace. (Just then his phone goes. It’s our Director. It’s a strange picture, this humble legend, a sleeping child perched on each knee, talking to one of the most powerful and respected men in D.C.) Give me fifteen minutes Sir, gotta’ few things to wrap up first. (He puts the phone down) Sorry Janet, gotta’ go. Can we wind up?

BM:  Yes, I understand. It’s just …

CR:  Just what?

BM:  Lt Nivans. I don’t feel I know much more about him now than I did before I started.

CR:  He’s a sniper. It’s what he does. Camos up, lies still, and disappears before your very eyes.

BM: Like a chameleon?

CR:  Yes, until you get to know him.

BM:  And you do?

CR:  (Chris Redfield pauses, and then, in a few simple words, he explains it all) He can look into my soul, and I can see past his camouflage. We’re just good for each other. Does that make sense?

BM:  Perfectly. Captain Redfield, on behalf of our readers, thank you.

CR:  Ha! My pleasure. Just remember that captivated thing, Ok? I promised Piers. Come on kids, time to wake up! Uncle Chris has places to go and people to visit. There ya’ go, easy now. Let’s go wake your Dad. (He takes their hands in his and walks away, talking softly to them all the while. It’s a Dadfield moment. And my eyes are suddenly wet with tears.

************************

I re-read the notes from my interview with Lt Nivans on my return to D.C. They did, as I remembered, say more about him than his Captain. And looking at these new notes from my session with Capt Redfield, ostensibly talking about his 'Ace’ it’s the Captain’s personality that shines through. So I thought about it, a lot, and you know what? It’s the same person. They’re two sides of the same coin. I don’t know how else to explain it. I really think it’s that simple readers. They are that rare thing in life, the perfect match.

If Lieutenant Nivans is captivated by his legendary Captain, he is not alone. He is, as Corporal Macauley put it so succinctly, awesome! And if Chris Redfield deserves a partner to share his burdens, he couldn’t have chosen a better one than his Ace. Between them they reflect the very best of humankind and the BSAA in particular. They are its past, its present, and its future. We owe them both a debt of gratitude. More, I suspect, than most of us will ever know.

************************

Chris put the magazine down on the coffee table. “So, whad'ya think Ace? Are you and me one person?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. But your half can do all the interviews from now on.”

“Huh? And whats your half gonna’ do then?”

“A little light dusting, some cooking … keep the bed warm …”

“I like that last one!”

“Thought you might, I can see into your soul. Mwahahaha!”

“I can’t believe I said that Ace. Grrrr!”

“Woof?”

No, that was a bad Grrrr!

“First thought, best thought. You said it because you meant it Babe.”

“I did?”

“Of course. Now let’s try again.”

“Hang on, not so fast Nivans! I haven’t forgotten those photos of 'Young Redfield’.”

“Ah.”

“Ah indeed!”

“You were cute.”

“I was still in diapers! I’m gonna’ murder Claire!”

“Don’t blame her, I sorta’ encouraged it.”

“Oh yeh, I bet that was hard! I’ve got an image to maintain.”

“You’d better read that interview again Chris. I think you’ve blown the image.”

“Ha, ha, ha! I did kinda’ didn’t I? Ok soulmate, you’re forgiven. Go on then, try it now.”

“You first.”

“Grrr!”

“Woof!”

“That’s better!”

Chapter Text

We’re using Captain Redfield’s office for my interview this morning with Alpha Team’s Finn Macauley. The Captain’s away in DC, and Corporal Macauley doesn’t have a quiet place of his own. But when we meet there I discover we’re not alone. Lieutenant Nivans is also in attendance. Apparently he decided to ‘tidy-up’ the Captain’s office on the spur of the moment, and is using Corporal Macauley to help.

I knock on the door. “Ooh Lieutenant Cooper Ma'am! I forgot the time.” Finn grins, the first of many throughout our interview. He’s that rare thing in the BSAA, an eternal optimist. Lt Nivans, on the other hand, seems not to be.

As we start the interview Lt Nivans remains standing by Finn’s side. I ask, politely of course, why he’s there.

Without turning a perfectly gelled hair, he replies, “I’m making sure he doesn’t say anything.”

“Anything?” I say, surprised.

“Anything, er, untoward.”

“I’m sorry Lieutenant, but that sounds rather like censorship.”

I receive one of those icy-cold looks. “Think of it more as Command Guidance then.” And as he turns to leave he says, “Remember Finn, I’ll be just outside!”

Now we’re on our own I notice that Finn is clutching a piece of paper tightly in one hand.

"What is it?” I ask him.

“Cap'in’s instruction Ma'am.” Strange, he uses the singular, one instruction then?

“May I see it?” I ask.

“Cap'in didn’t say not to, so I guess it’s all right.” he hands me the paper.

“DONT LET THE EL TEE TELL YOU WHAT TO SAY!” C.

“Do you think he meant you? he asks me.

"If it was me, it would say the 2nd Lieutenant, surely?”

Finn thinks about this. “Yes, so who is it then?”

“I think he’s standing outside.” There’s an irritated grunt from the corridor.

“Oh, yes.” Finn blushes.

“Just pretend he’s not there Finn.” I whisper. He give me a thumbs up, and another grin.

BM: So Finn, for the benefit of our readers, tell me a little about your background.

FM: A little? Oh, I don’t know if I can do that. There’s actually lots to tell. Um, my name’s Finn Macaulay … well, actually it’s not … it’s Finnbar Macauley, but I couldn’t say that when I was little, so I settled for Finn and it stuck … I’m 24 now. I was 22 when I joined the BSAA, which was two years ago then… er, heh, heh, I come from Vermont. My parents are dairy farmers, but my Grandparents first lived in Boston, and before that they lived in …“

BM: Whoa, Finn. Could you slow down a little please?

FM: Oh, I’m sorry Ma'am. I think I must have kissed the Blarney stone, although I never have, but it’s like I have, if you understand me. When I start there’s no knowing when I’ll stop …

BM: (I have to put my hand up) Moving on then Finn, what’s your role on Alpha Team? Arguably the best SOU in the BSAA?

FM: I’m not arguing, it is the best. Cap'in says it is and that’s good enough for me.

BM: So, your role exactly?

FM: Well, I’m the team medic …

BM: Ah yes, the other month. How did you get on with Major Simms? Changing the contents of your combat first aid kits wasn’t it?

FM: That’s right, we had a lovely chat, he enjoyed your donuts and we had tea instead of coffee, but I still think it’s better with cookies, and he liked my report and because Cap'in supported it we made all the changes I suggested. He said I could talk to him any time providing I brought the donuts.

BM: And have you?

FM: Not yet, he’s a busy Major and so am I, um, busy I mean.

BM: Captain Redfield called you Alpha’s Rookie. But you’re a Corporal, so how come?

FM: It’s more like a nickname now. But I’m still the youngest on the team, so I’m still called the Rookie, it’s a tradition. I sometimes think I’ll always be the Rookie. (Finn sighs. It’s a close as he comes to being sad during the whole interview.)

BM: You were recruited by Lt Nivans I understand, not by Captain Redfield.

FM: Yes. Andy said Cap'in always used to do it then he and El Tee had a big row and after that El Tee did it and he recruited me.

BM: Oh, that’s surprising. (There’s a muffled guffaw from outside the door; Lt Nivans is still there.)

FM: Oh, talking of Andy he said to give you this. (Finn hands me a card) He said he thought you might have lost the last one, nudge, nudge.

BM: Nudge, nudge?

FM: You know. (He taps the end of his nose and winks. I slip the card into my purse for safe keeping)

The phone rings on the Captain’s desk, Finn hesitates at first, then picks it up.

"Hello? … Jill? Jill who? … Agh, no Sir, er, Ma'am, he’s not here. I thought he was with you … um, no, not like that … he’s gone to Washington hasn’t he? … I don’t know Sir … El Tee’s here, well he’s not actually here, he’s in the corridor … what? … I think he’s listening to us … well me anyway! Why? I’m being interviewed … yes, that’s right, just like Cap'in and El Tee … shall I get him? … yes I will Sir, sorry, Ma'am … um, Bye bye.” Finn salutes the phone as he puts it down.

Lt Nivans is already standing in the doorway. “Major Valentine wants you to call her El Tee. She’s in Washington.” The Lieutenant hurries away.

BM: That’s better, you can talk freely now Finn.

FM: Oh, was there a charge before?

BM: Heh, heh! (Finn makes you laugh) Let’s get back to your duties on Alpha. What experiences have you had? I’ve heard something about FFF. What’s that?

FM: (Finn blushes) Oh, um, that stands for Frag the bleepers Finn.

BM: Bleepers?

FM: It’s rude, and begins with an F. (He’s bright red now) I designed a special fragmentation grenade for clearing J'avo out of confined spaces. When we use it we call for an FFF. It’s very effective.

BM: Ah, I can imagine.

FM: Oh, and I made AlphaM8.

BM: Who?

FM: Our first drone. We used him to help us dislodge the J’avo who were hiding-out in the old mine workings under the mountains.

BM: That was in Edonia?

FM: Yes, in the north-east.

BM: Where you were awarded your Bronze Star?

FM: No, I was awarded my medal in Edonia City. We had a big parade just after the war finished. A French General kissed me. (he grins) It was a total surprise.

BM: What did you do?

FM: I kissed him back. Everyone laughed. (another grin.)

BM: Tell me how you won it.

FM: I’d been ordered to blow a bridge, to stop the enemy tank advance, but the Ogroman just climbed over it. Captain was caught in the open, covering the rest of the team’s withdrawal. The BOW knocked him down. I took out the crew of a mobile anti-aircraft gun and drove up to the monster. Then I kept him busy whilst El Tee dragged Cap'in to safety. I kept firing until they were all clear. I continued firing and the Ogroman eventually turned and ran. That’s how we found out their heads were a weak spot.

BM: Then what did you do?

FM: I ran like feck back to the others in case the Ogroman returned. Ooh, sorry, I should have bleeped that! (Finn turns bright red with embarrassment. But his blushes are saved by the return of Lt Nivans) “Sorry folks, something’s brewing. Lieutenant Cooper, if you want your photoshoot, you’d better get it done ASAP. Corporal Airhart’s ready now with the gear and transport outside.”

BM: Corporal Airhart?

FM: That’s Ben.

BM: The one I met at breakfast?

FM: Yes. He’s my best friend.

BM: On Alpha?

FM: In the whole world. I left the US Army in 2009. They didn’t get on with me they said. So I joined the BSAA a year later, and they didn’t get on with me either until I met Ben. I wouldn’t be here without him.

BM: He saved your life?

FM: Teh-heh! He does that all the time. We all do on Alpha. No, he stopped me from quitting, from giving up when the training was hard. I used to be timid, not very outgoing. I didn’t think I contributed anything to the team. Ben showed me how I did contribute, how my skills complemented the others. If not for Ben I would have quit. Now look at me. I’m the team medic, I developed the first portable drone for use by the SOUs, and I’m also the team’s exploding expert.

BM: Don’t you mean explosives?

FM: No, they all call me that. I, I, um, used to explode quite often. That’s why I wear this beanie. I can pull it down over my eyebrows. They used to get blown off a lot, but not so much these days. Like my Gran says “It’s no use getting older if you don’t get wiser.”

BM: She sound’s like a wise woman.

FM: Yes, she is a woman, and she’s wise. Tee-heh.

I have to say it’s hard knowing if Corporal Macauley is being serious or humorous a lot of the time. He has an 'innocent abroad’ feel to his character, but I’m pretty sure there is solid steel beneath all the banter. Like his two commanding officers, what you see on the surface is only what they want you to see.

(Earlier, over breakfast, we had decided to hold a photo shoot on the disused runway of the airfield. Finn had thought it would be nice to show off the past and present drones used by the SOUs. He enlisted the aid of an experienced looking, sandy-haired Corporal who’d joined us in the chow hall. It was Ben Airhart as I subsequently discovered.)

We drive with Corporal Airhart to the location for the shoot. In no time, he and Finn have unloaded a large crate and set up a display of various drones. It’s a smooth and professional operation, as one would expect. They barely talk to each other whilst they work, as if they can read one another’s mind. When they’ve finished, Finn picks up a small black drone and cradles it almost lovingly, in his arms.

FM: This is the current AlphaM8 (he says it proudly, just like a father) He’s not the original, he is in the BSAA museum in Washington. But Mr Cetcham lets me visit him when I’m there. (Quint Cetcham - one of the BSAA’s top technical wizards) This is the Mk III version, more ruggedized. When the first AlphaM8 got shot in Edonia, Mr Cetcham sent me new rotor blades made from carbon-fibre. I had to tell him all about my drone, and then he developed this one. He points to a large red and white drone held by Corporal Airhart. This is SoulM8, the SOU Large drone. He’s like AlphaM8’s baby, but bigger! (coming from anyone else that might sound dumb, but coming from Finn it makes perfect sense)

BM: Isn’t he rather large to carry about?

FM: We use AlphaM8 in confined spaces, inside buildings, caves, places like that. He’s more tactical. SOULM8 is more … what’s the word Ben? “Strategic Finny.” Yes, that’s it. When we’re deployed in force, or embedded with other friendlies.

Another Humvee pulls up, it’s Sergeant Andy Walker and some other soldiers come to see what’s happening. (Walker gives me a wink and a laid-back salute. “Nice to see you again Ma'am. He certainly doesn’t give up!) In no time at all their shirts are off and I’m in the middle of a dodgeball game. My photographer joins in to make up the numbers and I’m left breathless on the sidelines. Their moves are incredible, back-flips, somersaults, a sweaty, muscular ballet. It reminds me of the volleyball scene from Top Gun, and then right on cue an Air Wing jet roars overhead. We all duck, it’s so low and loud. And something else is coming fast towards us on the disused runway. A small dot, getting closer and louder. It forms into a motorbike and rider. The soldiers stop their game and wait. There’s a sudden air of expectation. "It’s El Tee.” someone whispers.

Lieutenant Nivans roars up on his motorbike, an Italian Aprilia racing model. His face is flushed, eyes bright with excitement, the latte hair picture perfect, as ever. The boys all crowd around him. He nods to me then addresses them. “Sorry guys, just been talking to Command. We’ve been put on 6 hours standby, effective immediately. Captain’s already on his way back from D.C. Get the drones stowed away, Ops brief in 2 hours. With that he throttles-up the bike and returns the way he came, performing a wheelie much to the delight of the watching soldiers. "Show off!” says someone. “Yeah, but he’s our show-off.”

FM: Er, sorry Ma'am, looks like that’s it. Do you have enough to write your article?

BM: Thank you Finn, I think so.

FM: When can I read it?

BM: Next month hopefully.

FM: Hear that Ben? I’m gonna’ be famous next month. (Ben ruffles Finn’s hair affectionately.) “You already are famous you dope. C'mon, let’s get this gear stowed and your adoring press corps returned to Ops.”

On the way back, I manage to squeeze in one final question:

BM: What makes a kind, decent kid like you become a soldier in one of the bloodiest terrorist wars?

FM: That’s our job, to fight bioterrorism.

BM: But why?

FM: Because we all deserve to be with the ones we love, in the places we love, free of fear, free of hate. We have to fight for that now, we’re in a war. I’d rather not have to do what I do, none of us do. But we know it’s the right thing to do, to protect those people, those things we cherish.

BM: I couldn’t have put it better myself. Corporal Finn Macauley, Bronze Star and heart of gold. You might think others are awesome, but you’re pretty awesome yourself. On behalf of our readers, thank you.

FM: Tee-heh, wait till I tell my Ma!

Chapter Text

He takes a long drag from his cigarette, then passes it to me. The orange glowing tip is the only light within the room as I take my turn, inhaling deeply. Outside there’s an equally orange light, only now it’s red, no, purple, green. Cheesy motel signs are just that, cheesy. But the sex we’ve just enjoyed … where do I start? Ok, the beginning would be a good idea. I mean, I am a writer, of sorts.

He didn’t exactly pester me at first. I don’t know if that was a rank thing or not. I don’t think so, rank doesn’t seem to have the same meaning to him as it does me. That’s probably down to experience. I’m still new and shiny. He’s been around the block a few times, and the next street, town, country. He’s well travelled, and well worn. Jeez, his edges must have been very rough to begin with is all I can say. They’re not exactly smooth even now. And thank God. It’s all part of his charm.

“How was it for you?” he asks. His voice is gravelly, smokey, confident. It would be over-confident if it weren’t for the vein of dark humor that runs continuously through it. It stops him being an arrogant bastard, well, one of those at least. He knows it was damn good for me, and he knows I want more. I don’t even have to reply.

He takes the cigarette back and finishes it. He smokes far too much for someone as fit as he is. He’s not twice my age, though he’s not far off. His body is still hard, firm. Not an ounce of fat. But the scars give it away. Layered. Old on even older. Fresh on them. Still red, still raw possibly. He hides it well, doesn’t give much away. Probably as much for his own benefit as mine. The less you get to know a person, the less pain there is when you forget them. Or when they forget you. I think I’ll be the one doing the remembering. But then I always do live in hope. I’m not sure where he lives. Somewhere between heaven and hell I suppose. I suspect they’re one and the same to him anyway. How does he keep his sanity? The sex? The booze? The cigarettes? I decide to help him out with the first one. I’ve gotta’ keep sane too.

I turn towards him and run my fingers over his chest, then down, then further.

“Oh, sweet merciful Mary!” I wonder how many times he’s said that. But it sounds like the first time to my ears. And that lean body tightens and arches under my touch. I don’t think it’s just for my sake, I’m not a complete novice, because there’s a genuine feeling in his response. I’m satisfying a real need, not just an animal instinct. I think he craves love because it shows him he’s alive. That he has feelings, desires. If not, then he knows he’s like the zombies and monsters he battles for a living. Just another one of the walking dead.

“Don’t stop.”

“Sorry, got lost in my thoughts.”

“What’s there to think about?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I doubt it. Nothing surprises me anymore. Though I must admit I was really pleased you returned my call.”

“But not surprised? What if I hadn’t called?”

“You would have done. I saw that look in your eye. I’ve seen it before.”

“I can imagine!”

“Ha, ha, ha! Touche Lieutenant. You got me!”

“But not for long?”

“You know the answer to that. You knew when you gave me that look.”

“So we both got what we wanted?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead he lights another cigarette, takes another long drag, then passes it to me.

“I’m not good to know Babe. Ask anyone.”

“I’m not so sure. I could think of half a dozen names right now.”

“That’s not love, that’s, shit, what’s the phrase? Esprit de Corps?”

“I think your confusing love with sex.”

“I am? Damn, I knew I was doing something wrong. Ha, ha, ha!”

I stub the cigarette out. “Perhaps we should start the interview again then Sergeant?”

He kisses me full on the lips, and his tongue finds mine. I add some new scars to his back.

“Do you think they’ll print the first one?” he says, when he eventually comes up for air.

“No, but in the interests of good journalism, I think we should keep trying.”

“It’s out every month, you say?”

“Yes.”

“S'gonna’ be a fun year Lieutenant.”