Nuclear Storm

Sitting under the clear Wyoming night sky, the thousands of stars overhead giving him an amazing view of the heavens, Joseph Sidell felt the stress of his first graduate student semester finally begin to dissipate from his neck and shoulders.

On the other side of the campfire, his roommate, George Turlington, smiled as he tossed another log on the blaze, making a burst of sparks float into the night sky. “Feelin’ better, buddy?”

“Yeah, but I’m still worried about the havoc this trip is gonna wreak on my schedule.”

“Jeez, will you just relax for the next two days? MIT will still be there when you get back, and your crushing workload will be right there waiting for you, too. Right now, just sit back, ponder the heavenly light show above us, and—” he winked one deep brown eye “—think of other pleasures you could be enjoying.”

Joe frowned. “What are you talking about?”

George rolled his eyes. “Dude, you have got to stop drawing all those buildings people will be living in in 2050 and take an occasional look at the world around you—and the people in it. Brandy is way into you, man!”

Joe’s brow furrowed even more. “Shut up! I wouldn’t even have a chance with a woman like her.”

“Dude, just ’cause she’s got the big brain on campus doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate other things in life—” he pointed a finger at Joe “—unlike some other people I could mention. You know she’s into all that environmental save-the-planet stuff. Your little modular boxes you wanna plant on the Serengeti are just the opening you need to start a conversation with her that could lead to—other things.”

It was Joe’s turn to roll his eyes. Even as an accomplished grad student in quantum physics, George’s exploits on campus with the opposite sex—students and professors both—were already the stuff of legend. With his Denzel-like looks, athletic ability and stratospheric IQ, he combined looks, body and brains in a completely irresistible package. Joe figured all his buddy would have to do was say the word and Brandy would fall naked at his feet.

By contrast, Joe was a brown-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned German, indistinguishable from any of the thousand other grad students on campus. That Brandy would even give him a second glance when Mr. Adonis was right beside him was an idea Joe found ludicrous at best.

George rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Look, I’ll prove it to you. When the others come back, I’ll bet she’ll come up with some excuse to go off for something—firewood, perhaps—and will ask for help. There’s your chance, stud.”

Joe smiled at his friend’s pipe dream. “I think you’ve been smoking too much salvia, buddy. But all right, just to shut you up, let’s see what happens when they return.” He looked around the neatly set up campsite, with the tents arranged around the campfire, and folding stadium chairs next to fully stocked coolers. Opening the nearest one, he grabbed a beer from it and raised an eyebrow at his roommate. “While we’re waiting…”

“Now you’re talking.” George deftly caught the cold can Joe tossed to him.

Bright headlights illuminated the clearing as an ancient but well cared-for Jeep Cherokee slowly climbed the narrow road—little more than a trail—leading to the campsite. The diesel engine died, and four students spilled out of the four-by-four.

Joe watched the quartet unload the rest of their supplies and haul them closer to the fire. Sanjay Patel was a mechanical engineering student working on the next generation of rechargeable batteries—and engines. Sandra Talbot was the archetypical mousy, brown-haired, glasses-wearing, library-haunting geek—who also happened to be studying the cutting edge of particle physics and had a 193 IQ. She was also George’s current girlfriend, which Joe was still trying to figure out. When he’d asked his roomie about her, all the other guy had said was, “What can I say? I likes ’em with big brains.”

Samuel Moskowitz, a finance grad taking a double major in forensic accounting and computer science, was planning to fight Wall Street crime after graduation. Rounding out the sextet was the improbably named Brandy Bodeen.

Even as buried as he was in worrying about the crushing workload awaiting him back at campus, Joe’s heart skipped a beat and his jeans tightened when he saw the lithe blonde tote another cooler to the site. Curved in all the right places, and slender everywhere else, she even made her shapeless hoodie and blue jeans look like a model was wearing them.

There were loud greetings, backslaps, and several beer cans cracked open as everyone got down to the serious business of relaxing—namely, drinking until they could barely see. Joe had rejoined the group near the fire and caught George’s steady gaze. He shook his head and shrugged, and that was when he heard the words.

“Fire’s getting low.” Brandy rose gracefully from her cross-legged position on a blanket. “I’m gonna get more wood. Who wants to come with me?”

The others muttered excuses, and with a start Joe realized he was the only one who hadn’t spoken yet. “I—I’ll go.” He scrambled to his feet, trying to avoid tripping or stumbling. As he rose, he saw George wipe a smile off his face and realized what was going on.

Son of a bitch—he set the whole thing up, Joe thought. He tore his gaze away from his roommate only to find himself staring at Brandy, who was looking at him with her round, blue eyes, a faint crease between her eyebrows indicating her puzzlement.

“You ready?” Her lush, full-lipped grin was impish, and at that moment Joe couldn’t have cared less if this whole thing had been set up, or it she had been a prostitute instead of one of the smartest minds at MIT. If she wanted to get with him, who was he to refuse?

He smiled back. “Absolutely.”

“Hey sport, catch.” Joe turned just in time to put his hands up and grab the flashlight Sanjay had tossed to him.

“Don’t get lost out there. Stay within sight of the fire,” Sam said as he stirred the blaze with a stick.

“Yes, Mom,” Brandy replied, cracking up the rest of the group. “Come on, Joe.”

Walking beside her, Joe and Brandy left the warm circle of light and entered the forest proper. Joe felt the four pairs of eyes on his back as they left. Moving his finger back behind him, he flipped them all off, making the four howl with laughter again.

Brandy glanced behind them, and Joe quickly turned his bird into scratching an itch. “What was that about?”

“I’m sure George told a joke or something.” Joe looked around as they proceeded deeper into the woods. Birch, ash and oak trees towered over them, mixed with pine and fir, which lent the night a clean, woodsy scent. He was a city boy through and through, but tried not to show his nervousness about being here. His only other experiences with nature had been the science camps his parents had packed him off to every summer. Even then, he’d spent more time indoors doing experiments than the normal things like swimming and fishing that boys did at that age.

Alone with Brandy, Joe was even more tongue-tied than at the campsite. She didn’t seem to mind, strolling along like she didn’t have a care in the world. Finally, he came up with, “So, how’s your research coming?”

She turned to him and smiled, her teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “I could bore you to tears with a ten-minute dissertation on the movement of wave particles in the sixth dimension, but I don’t think that’s why we’re here.”

She kept staring at him, making Joe’s earlier bravado slip away. “Look, I know George arranged this, but I’ll understand if you just want to get the firewood and head back—”

Brandy turned to him, and Joe suddenly felt pressure on the back of his head, and before he could wonder why he was leaning forward, she brought his mouth to hers and kissed him hungrily. Joe put his arms around her slim waist and held her, partly to keep from falling over with surprise, and partly just to get his hands on her. The kiss itself was everything he’d ever fantasized about, and then some. When they parted, he sucked in a breath and just stared at her.

“Joe, who do you think gave him the idea?” She smiled again and pulled away from him. “Come on.”

They ran deeper into the woods, finding a narrow path that twisted and turned in the moonlight. When they were both sure they’d be safe from any curious eyes, Brandy stopped and turned to him. “You’re the reason I came on this trip, you know.”

“Me? Why?”

She smiled that dazzling smile again. “I wanted to get to know you better.”

Between the beer—Joe was a relative lightweight in the drinking category—his hormones and the light-headedness from her kiss, he could barely keep up. “Uh, yeah, you hardly know me now.”

“Well, what better place to change that?” She walked toward him, and Joe raised his hand as he was about to answer her—or say something—but his mouth stopped working as his fingers encountered her firm breast first. Joe froze, mortified, but Brandy unzipped her hoodie and moved his hand inside to cup her warm flesh through her T-shirt.

“That’s a good start. Here…” She turned off the flashlight and stuck it in his back pocket. “It’s always more fun in the dark.”

Joe could scarcely believe this was happening. His other arm curled around her, and he brought her close for a longer kiss. She was warm and willing, molding herself to him, her sweet-tasting mouth open and tongue and exploring. Her hand stole down to the front of his jeans, which were unmistakably bulging.

Even if George did set this up, it would still be worth it, Joe pondered, all other coherent thoughts fleeing as he lost himself in her touch and taste. He also lost track of time. It could have been minutes or hours, but the next thing he was aware of was being jerked back and squinting as an intense light was shone in his face. Joe tried to put an arm up to shield his vision, but it was grabbed and twisted behind his back and up between his shoulder blades.

“What the—ow! Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, blinking fast to try to adjust his vision.

Brandy was also protesting what was going on, and Joe heard, “Get your hands off me, fuckwad—” followed by what sounded like a slap, and her voice fell silent.

“Hey, look, just tell us what the problem is here.” Joe’s tearing eyes were finally adjusting to the glare, and he could see five figures beyond the spotlight. Next to him, Brandy had a hand to her bruised and cut lip. He bent over to look at her, but her answering glance wasn’t scared or surprised—she looked furious.

“The only problem is that you two are in the wrong place at the wrong time.” The light was suddenly taken away, and Joe got his first look at the intruders.

The group was unlike anyone he had ever seen. Four men and one woman were all dressed in green, brown and black camouflage fatigues, complete with nylon straps and harnesses crisscrossing their chests and around their waists. Camo face paint covered their cheeks and forehead, giving them an unnerving appearance with their white eyes staring out of a swath of black or green. Each had what looked like night vision goggles pushed up on their heads. They were all armed, too, with the biggest guns Joe had ever seen. With a start, he realized they were Heckler & Koch submachine guns like counterterrorist teams used. Before a few seconds ago, he’d only seen them in the movies.

“Uh, okay, guys, what is this—did we stumble on some kind of Army training exercise or something?”

His question didn’t bring the desired response. Instead of an answer, the men and woman all looked around and laughed quietly. One of them turned his head and spit on the ground.

“We’re about the farthest thing from Army pigs you’ll ever see.”