Landfall - 4. One Secret Revealed

Blue green water all around, flashes of white sand—and the jet was dropping like a stone.

“Don't worry, a plane this fast can handle an approach like this. We'll be on the ground in a few minutes—and you're gonna love it here. Go ahead and buckle in.” David smiled.

Minutes later, after an ultra-smooth landing, we rolled up near a small section of tarmac with a white Suburban parked nearby. Got off the plane, and waiting near the bottom of the drop-down stairway were two more armed security guards; at least I'm assuming they were guards, pistols drawn, but the guys were in shorts, Hawaiian print shirts, and deck shoes. Mid-20's or early 30's, tanned, looked like typical beachgoers. Both medium build, one with dirty blonde hair, the other a light brown.

“Barry, this is Greg and Jonathan. They're additional security on our team here, and they'll be staying with us. Neither will be far away, it's just an added measure of safety for you.” As David finished the introductions, Greg, the blonde, smiled and nodded hello, Jonathan moved his pistol to his left hand, and shook hands with me.

“Let's get to our rooms—it's late enough they should be ready, and we can go over the plans for the rest of our stay here.” David's already walking to the Suburban. “And, Barry, we got your bag onboard the plane—we picked it up from your house while you were meeting with us, so no worries about your stuff.”

In the truck, learned that both Greg and Jonathan were on permanent assignment here—wherever here is. “Makes security easier when we're assigned to one place, we can more easily spot changes, things out of place.” Greg said as he navigated through a smaller town's streets.

“You're gonna love it here,” Jonathan chimed in.

“Where's here?”

Greg glanced in the rearview mirror at David beside me, and grinned.

“We'll fill ya in on that later, Barry.” David is obviously enjoying this bit of mystery—and I'm exhausted enough to let it pass.

Hell, a shootout in my neighborhood, a high-speed car ride to escape, a phone call that destroys my boys' image of me, a meeting to sign away my life, and a private jet flight to god-knows-where all in one day has pretty much drained me.

Hadn't been paying attention and we're pulling up in front of an old restored home, victorian-looking, wide front porch sweeping around all the sides, complete with porch swing and chairs in various places. Lush landscaping. Wooden carved sign on an inverted L-post, “La Casa de Fuga”.

“Let's get checked in, guys”, David threw his door open, and headed up the winding sidewalk several paces ahead of us.

Inside, David is already at the check-in desk. “What do ya mean the room's not ready?”

“We didn't expect you guys until tomorrow. I'll have the 3 rooms for you then. Right now, I've only got 2 rooms, both king size beds. They are adjacent as your staff requested, but the one across the hall won't be ready till tomorrow when that guest checks out.” The bed and breakfast owner shrugs his shoulders. “I'll let you know as soon as a room opens up. There's a small sofa in each room, though—perhaps that'll help.”

David turns, looks at me grimly. “You ok with bunking with me?” Guess he figures I'll be all macho about two guys sleeping together.

“Not a problem. I'm tired enough, I could sleep with a gorilla at this point. Besides, frat brothers have all slept together at one time or another.” I smiled—and he looked relieved.

“OK, guys, it's 4:00. Let's relax until dinner at 7 or so. I wanna go over some stuff with Barry.” With that, Greg and Jonathan grabbed one set of room keys, David got our keys, and we separated to our rooms.

Nicely sized room holds a king-sized bed, a double dresser with flat-screen TV on top, a pub table with two chairs, and a loveseat.

“That's the sofa?” Hell, it's barely loveseat-sized. “No way either one of us is gonna fit on that, David.”

“We'll make it work, Barry.” Not a happy look on David's face; more like grim acceptance.

Knock on the door. Jonathan, the brown-haired security guard passes my bag to David. “We're right next door if you need anything, guys—and if you're doing a wild party, we better get an invitation. We'd hear it, and hafta crash otherwise!” He laughs.

“No wild parties here tonight, Jonathan,” as I shake my hand from side to side in front of me. “I'm pooped. You won't hear a party, but you MAY hear my snoring!” We all laugh, and he leaves.

“Ok, ready to go over your history, Barry?” David is holding my life in the folder in front of him.

“David, I'm brain dead. The quick cat-nap on the plane didn't help. Lemme take a quick nap, we can go over it before and after dinner, ok?” I'd already started peeling off my shirt and kicking off my shoes to get comfortable. “I'll stretch out for a few, and then we'll go over it, ok?” Now sitting on the side of the big bed.

“Sure. You go ahead and nap, I'll get a couple of emails and some paperwork done.” David's already getting his laptop out of a bag.

I'd no sooner stretched out than I apparently passed out. When I woke up, I felt better, but realized I was curled up on something both bulky and warm—David.

He's lying flat on his back, shirt off, breathing softly. I'm spooned up against his side, my head on his chest/shoulder, his arm wrapped around my back holding me close. My hand is on his hairy belly—the bastard is a damn bear, covered in fur from his neck all the way down his chest and belly to the waistband of his pants. He's a solid block of muscles, must be hitting the gym daily. And, must admit, it felt great to be sleeping with someone.

There's a loud knock on the door. I'm startled, but David leaps from the bed, grabbing a 9mm pistol that'd I'd not seen on the nightstand. “Who's there?”

“David, it's Greg. You guys ready to go out for dinner?”

“Almost, meet ya down in the lobby in 10 minutes.”

“Ok, see ya then!”

David relaxes, puts the gun down, and smiles at me. “Feeling better? The nap help?”

“Yup, it did....and sorry I moved up against ya like that, David.” I'm sure I was a little red-faced.

“I kinda liked it. Glad I decided to grab a nap, too.” David grinned. “Now, get your shirt on, and let's get a bite to eat. I really do still wanna go over that file with ya, later.”

Greg and Jonathan were downstairs waiting, and we all piled into the Suburban. Jonathan turned around from the driver's seat to look at me and David in back. “Where are we headed? What are ya in the mood for?” After bouncing around a couple of different types of places, we decided on surf and turf place Greg and Jonathan both knew, swearing it was great—and waterfront with a great view.

After driving through a bunch of crowded streets filled with small shops of all kinds, the road opened up, and off on the left, surrounded by a small grove of trees and some sand dunes is a small house—looks like some of the ones I'd seen in the Bahamas a few years ago. Peaked roof, porch wrapping all around the front, sides, and back. Tilted-out shutters over the visible windows.

Got inside, David requested a table on the deck out back. Ordered drinks and dinner. Did the usual over-dinner small talk. Greg and Jonathan had been here a couple or three years, and were regular security detail on “guests” at the bed and breakfast. They had an apartment across town, loved the place, spent every spare moment at the beach.

“Ok, I've got a couple of questions: First, where the hell are we? Y'all have tap-danced around that since we left Dallas. And,” looking at Greg and Jonathan, “how long have you guys been together?”

Greg and Jonathan looked at each other in total surprise, then slowly turned to look back at me. David was just grinning.

“We've been together 6 years. But how'd ya know?” Greg was looking at me intently.

I laughed. “My son is gay, and has a boyfriend, has for 3 years now. They're just like you two—they finish each other's sentences, they look at each other more intensely, there are casual touches that only those in love provide each other. Think the final thing was in the Suburban when you were both in front, and your hands casually brushed against the other's on the console. I thought you were about to hold hands, and pulled back. Am I right?”

“Yeah, you're right—it took all I could do to keep from grabbing Jon's hand when you were in the truck with us. I can't help it—I'm a toucher.” Greg smiled a shy smile.

“Guys, I'm cool with it. Do what ya need to do to be happy.” As I finished speaking, Jon reached under the table and grabbed Greg's hand. They looked at each other, and smiled at the other. “Thanks. We just didn't know how you'd handle it, but we appreciate your being open-minded about it.” Their postures had relaxed, and instead of the board-stiff upright position they'd had in their chairs, they now had relaxed shoulders, leaning into the conversation, and we looked like any other group of friends out for dinner.

“Ok, that's one question down. Now, where the hell are we? Or do I hafta go from table to table 'till someone will tell me?” My frustration was obvious. Silence at the table for a moment. I pushed back on the chair as though I was getting up.

David, grinning big, grabbed my arm. “Ok, ok.....no need to make a scene. We're in Key West. It's kinda the perfect spot for you. Somewhat isolated, great place to relax away, out of the public eye. And since a lot of people think of it as one of the gay capitals of the United States, who'd think to look for a womanizer at a gay resort town? And with Memorial Day less than a month away, they'll be even more gays here to disguise your presence. Like I said, perfect.”

Finally. One secret revealed.

“Ok, I get the logic. So I can just go out, explore the area, relax?”

David was quick to answer. “No. You can go out some, but only with me or the guys. No solo exploring. We know the house is safe—we own it, and the B&B owners are our employees. Obviously, we don't know everyone here in town, so we'd rather you keep a low profile, relax around the house and the pool. But we won't keep you under house arrest or anything. And, yeah, we can all go out, have fun, you can still enjoy the area.”

“Ok....just don't let me get stir-crazy locked up in the B&B with you guys. Promise we'll get out some?” All of 'em nodded.

“Let's finish the meal, we can grab a drink by the pool, and relax some. It's been a long day for everyone.” David was right; it HAD been a long day, and despite the nap, with the big meal I was sagging.

The remainder of the meal went well, we loaded back in the Suburban, and I noticed a few more details. We passed by several shops, now closed, since it was late, but also went past a number of bars and restaurants that were still open, including one plastered outside with gay flags, the doors open, a small but energetic group dancing beneath the strobe lights.

Finally, back at the B&B, we all changed into shorts and t-shirts, and went back out to the pool. David appeared with a bottle of Jack Daniels, and a bottle of water, and we chatted for a while, just relaxing. Nice way to end the evening.

After a couple of drinks, the group broke up, everyone headed our rooms.

David and I both stripped down for bed, both of us in boxer briefs. Crawled in bed, got under the sheet, both lying on our backs on each of our side of the bed, with only the lamp on the nightstand on David's side of the bed still on.

“You really snore?” David asked.

“Only when I'm sleeping,” I joked. He chuckled.

“Ok, we'll see how we do...besides, it's only one night.”

David turns off the lamp. Both lying in the dark, and although I'm absolutely dead exhausted, I'm not falling to sleep immediately.

David picks up on it, and in a quiet voice, asks, “So how are ya doing Barry?”

Long comfortable conversation lull. I'm trying to figure out how I really do feel.

“I'm in free-fall, David. Just overwhelmed with how much my life is in limbo. All in one day, I've been in a running gun battle, signed away my old life, living in a new location—at least temporarily while I get ready to start a whole new identity God knows where. I've left behind a career I thought I was happy with, buried my wife, left my home, and even though they were already out of the house, I'm feeling like I've betrayed my boys. I really already miss 'em.”

A couple of tears roll down the side of my face. Yeah, I guess it's the combination of emotion and exhaustion. And yeah, guess I'm feeling sorry for myself and scared at the same time. I wipe my tears away.

David reaches over between us, feels for my hand, and grabs it in the space between us.

“Barry, it's really gonna be ok. Yup, you've been through a lot, and I'm not minimizing that. And there's some big stuff ahead. But you know you're doing the right thing here. Your testimony is gonna put away guys who've made the lives of hundreds of people miserable, as well as breaking the law. And you know your boys love you, and they'll understand when all this is over.”

“Tomorrow I'm gonna start working with you on your cover story. Today wasn't the day for that, you've had too much going on. Think that'll help ya feel better about yourself. I'll see about getting you some chat time with the boys later this week. And you're gonna be able to relax here before the trial starts in a few weeks, and that'll help, too....give ya a stress break. ”

He squeezes my hand. “Don't ever forget, I'm here for you. I've got ya on all this. Just promise you'll talk to me, let me know where your head is on all this stuff. I can't help if I don't know, right?” He squeezes my hand again.

I squeeze his hand back. “Yeah, I know. And I appreciate ya. I'm comfortable with ya, and guess I'm just feeling sorry for myself. I'll get over it. Just that I've never really had a buddy to talk with about anything, and I'm used to keeping it all in. And even with Jackie and the boys, I got used to keeping secrets---secrets about me and the job. So this is gonna be a big change for me—but promise I'll try to keep ya in the loop, ok?”

David squeezes my hand again. “Ok. All I can ask. Now, let's get to sleep, we'll work tomorrow on giving ya a little structure, helping ya feel better about all this.” He squeezes my hand one more time.

Sleep slinks over me. I'm still holding his hand.