They'd reunited at Ivan's house, where Clay had been spending much of his time, since he left Dylan with Bill Payne. Clay found himself surprisingly relaxed. He'd told himself, 'I will not make this any harder than it has to be.'

After being away from Clay for weeks, Ivan was gentle and composed. Grateful they gave him time with the love of his life. It wasn't nearly enough time, but he'd waste none of it grieving or wasting time with what could have been. He was home for now, and he'd make the most of it.

It was another hour before they showered together again and dressed for dinner. Clay watched Ivan put on the rig with the pistol on over his black turtleneck. The black windbreaker that billowed out in the shoulders went on to hide the bulge of the Glock.

"We're walking to get dinner at Mama's, Ivan. Do you have to wear that thing? I think you're safe there."

"I do. I've just finished going through the training that's underlying message was, be ready to use your weapon at all times. I have no fear in Mama's dining room, but just when I relax and think, I don't need to take my gun with me, but I'm not going to be caught flatfooted in a trap someone has set for me."

"You don't believe the world is that dangerous, Ivan?"

"No, but the Company wants me to believe that. I don't know what I'll find when I get back there. It isn't like any place else I've been. I'm ready for it and it serves no purpose to fluff off now. One thing the training does, it makes you vigilant.

Clay kissed Ivan's cheek. If he said it was necessary, then it was.

He would not worry. He had no way to stop what was going to happen, and so he'd let go at the appropriate time.

Clay went down the stairs and stepped outside as the sun sank low in the western sky. Ivan came down a few minutes later and they walked hand in hand down the beach. There was a pleasant breeze and Ivan had learned not to feel constrained by his outfit.

It was surprising how little he noticed his change in appearance. He was usually in shorts or jeans and a tee shirt.

As they stepped into Mama's kitchen, she said, 'Don't we look dapper tonight," and she kissed Ivan's cheek.

"The man in black," Lucy said when she saw Ivan.

The meal was typical of what you got at Mama's table. She'd fixed a couple of Ivan's favorites to celebrate his being home. The talk was muted by the absence of Dylan. Ivan had been the one who was absent for too long, but except for Dylan being gone, it was mostly eating and enjoying.

Ivan and Clay swung their hands back and forth as they walked up the beach toward the house next to the river.

Clay thought how much they resembled the school kids who discovered they were in love, all those years ago. It was impossible to keep their hands off each other back then too.

He giggled at how he remembered it was back then. The world was perfect. He lived in paradise, and he was in love with Ivan.

"What's so funny?" Ivan asked.

"Us," Clay said. "We did this back when we were teenagers."

Ivan stopped and hugged Clay to him. They kissed passionately as stars glittered above them.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" Ivan asked.

Clay knew the reply.

"You may have mentioned it once."

It was perfect but it wouldn't last. They would make the most of the time they had left together. If only Ivan didn't have to leave.

They began walking again. Ivan swung their hands back and forth. Clay thought about the years when Ivan hadn't been in his life. 'This was not that,' he told himself. This is love and he'd love Ivan until the end of time. He didn't like that Ivan was framed for killing Mason. He didn't like he was being forced to risk his life for people who were capable of such double-dealing to get their way.

"Where'd you go, Babe," Ivan asked at the back door.

"Just thinking of how much I love you. When I was sixteen and I figured out what I was feeling was love, I couldn't imagine loving anyone any more than I loved you then. Now, I love you ten times as much as I loved you then. I love you more each day. Don't let anything happen to you, Ivan. I can't live without you. I wouldn't be able to go on without you."

"I'll try, babe. I can make no promises. I don't know what I'm going to get into over there. I haven't known since they played this card. I had to sign that contract. If I hadn't, they'd have put me in jail for the rest of my life. This way, it gives us a chance, but you're wrong when you say you can't live without me. You need to live for Dylan's sake. I know if something happens to me, you'll always be there for our son. I can take care of myself and with Roland, he's a good man to have at my side. He's my ace in the hole."

"He's a big man to have at your side," Clay said.

"I don't really feel like I'm home without the kid around. He's always been around," Ivan said wistfully.

"I know," Clay said.

They went inside of Ivan's house and climbed the stairs to go sit on the deck to admire the bright sky and the sounds the night made.

On June 15th, Ivan was up early.

He made coffee and they sat on the deck as a new day dawned.

Clay watched Ivan dress in his freshly laundered clothes.

The preciseness with which he put on the rig for that pistol intrigued Clay. He reached behind him with his left hand. He reached behind him with his right. He moved the rig a fraction of an inch.

Once Ivan was satisfied. He turned to face Clay.

"How do I look?"

"Secret agent man," Clay sang. "He's a man who lives a life of danger."

"To everyone, but you, he remains a stranger," Ivan sang, leaning to kiss the man who knew him best.

"Am I your secret agent man, babe?"

"You are. In that outfit, you look just like Bond, James Bond!"

Ivan laughed.

He understood what was coming. If Ken Ho did show up at the coffee house, there would be a firefight, and Ivan would die in a hail of bullets, along with Ken Ho.

Dead men tell no tales.

Ivan was caught in a nightmare, waking up would require him to take control of the mission he was being sent on. Men like Lance and Carter embraced the mission. Ivan needed to force the mission to go into the direction that would do him the most good and perhaps save his and Ken Ho's life. In that world of mystery and intrigue, he wasn't sure he'd succeed, even if his life hung in the balance.

Clay put his arms around Ivan. He held him close for a long time. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?" Ivan asked.

"You may have mentioned it once," Clay answered.

"I love you twice as much as I ever have before. You are my life, Clayton Olson, and if it's earthly possible, I'll come back to you, but if I don't, my love will remain forever in your heart, babe. Don't ever forget that."

Clay cried softly and he held on tight.

"It's time, babe."

Ivan stepped back. Clay went down the stairs first. They went out around the house to walk hand in hand out to the highway.

At the end of the driveway, across the highway, was a black sedan waiting with its engine running. Ivan and Clay crossed to stand beside the open rear door.

Clay hugged Ivan and they kissed one last kiss.

"You stay safe, Ivan. If you don't come back to me, I'll hunt you down."

Ivan smiled and turned to sit in the back seat.

Clay watched the sedan drive out of sight.

Ivan never looked back.


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