Collision

On lap thirty-seven of the running track, Jackson glances to the opening gym door and the guy in dark gray wandering through, map in hand.

Newbie looks around and frowns.

Orients himself to the map.

Glances at the door, turns around, eyeballs all the other doors.

Back to the map.

Jackson shrugs, focuses on running.

Jackson goes down.

"Sorry 'bout that, Ranger," says the tech, untangling himself and offering Jackson a hand up.

Jackson grunts, eyes the guy suspiciously, and lets him help.

He says, "Take care, Ranger," and wanders off.

Jackson slips his hand into a pocket, watches the tech's back, starts lap thirty-eight.

.

Run finished, Jackson, trailed discreetly by his minder, returns to quarters.

Room first; change of clothes, toiletry case.

Washroom next, locks the door behind, turns on the shower. Unfolds the note the tech pressed into his hand.

-otp ncc b rrte pay mvzc vmpc nuhwv bvh o aaj ggx urw qfes rmfbvj pv bizhvp-

What the hell?

Jackson blinks at the paper.

Oh.

Pencil, paper, frustration.

Success!

-i know can help cell under bed v two six one call number in memory-
.

"You lose him?"

Logan grins. "Easy."

"Let's go."

Logan springs the door to the empty room, keeps watch.

Jackson fishes under the mattress, comes up with a low-end cellphone. Flips it nervously a few times.

Logan nods.

Jackson swallows, taps the lone contact.

It rings once, connects.

""Phone's disposable. Pitch it soon as you hang up,"" says the tech from the collision.

"Wha- who are you?"

""Name's Jamie. I know why you're in there. I want to help.""

"If you're fucking with me, I swear to /**god** I'll tear you into pieces so small /**ants** won't bother with 'em."

""Fair enough. I'm not fucking with you.""

"Why should I trust you?"

""There's nothin' I can say that's good enough after what you've been through. You'll just need to take a chance.""

Jackson chews his lip. "Can you get me out?"

A deep sigh. ""No. But I /**can** get messages to your family more often than they let you. And without going through your minders.""

Jackson squeezes his eyes shut, tries to find his voice.

Jamie asks gently, ""What do you want them to know?""

Jackson takes a deep breath, leans his forehead against the wall, "Tell 'em ... tell Charlie I love her, Derek'll do fine on his exams, an' I'd like more pictures of Baby if there are any ... an-an' tell Charlie it's time for Wom-wom to go to the cleaners but Book'll cry if she's not careful gettin' her out." He gulps air. "God, I ...."

A silent minute.

""Any advice for meeting your wife face-to-face, Ranger?""

Jackson snorts. "Good luck. She doesn't trust anyone anymore—"

""Can't blame her.""

"—but whatever you do, /**don't** mention the Corps right away or she'll kill you."

""Thanks for that,"" snickers Jamie. ""I'll work something out. But we need to hang up before someone gets wise. Throw the phone out, /**please**, Ranger, or we'll both be in shit.""

"Stop—," a deep breath, "—stop calling me 'Ranger'. My name's Jackson."

""Okay, Jackson. I'll be touch.""

Jackson ends the call.

Closes his eyes, waits for his heart to stop twitching.

Wobbles to the door, stops beside Logan.

Hands over the phone. "Get rid of it."

The phone disappears into Logan's pocket. He squeezes Jackson's shoulder.

Jackson cracks.

Logan gathers him up, holds him close.