6
Kenn was sitting in an uncomfortable folding chair, in the center of Adrian's perfectly neat tent, and wishing more people were out to walk by and see. The flap was open, the dim lantern light flickering gently in the soft, midnight breeze, and Kenn couldn't imagine being more content anywhere else. He knew there were men who didn't want him here, but they didn't matter. They would never say anything against Adrian. His wants and choices were followed without question, the timid people here almost worshiping the blond. Where Adrian wanted someone, he was placed.
"Here ya go. Try this. I made it myself."
Adrian handed him a cool metal cup, along with a cigar, and Kenn noticed the five o'clock shadow and bloodshot blue eyes. Clearly, their leader already had a head start.
Kenn smelled his cup, liking the vanilla more than he would ever admit to, and took a large swallow. It burned its way down to his gut despite the sweet aftertaste, and he sucked in a breath, coughing. The two Marines shared a grin.
"Good?"
Kenn nodded as the blond man sat down, noting the red, white, and blue on the cups. With Adrian, everything was about America.
Adrian studied Kenn, pale eyes unreadable, and the tension thickened.
The Marine forced himself to stay still, sensing if he seemed too eager now, he might lose it before it was really his.
"Do you have any idea why I asked you here?"
Kenn shook his head, instinctively knowing this was all part of the ritual of being brought in. "Have I done something wrong?"
"Just the opposite. The guys tell me you like to stay busy."
Kenn emptied his cup, set it on the small folding table as the potent alcohol burned its way to his gut. "There's a lot to be done," he gasped out, making Adrian grin.
"Ain't that the truth. How long you been here now?"
"Fifteen days."
The quick answer made Adrian frown a little. "You've done doubles on guard duty, taught two gun classes for the Eagles, helped find supplies, set up camp, broke down camp, and gassed up vehicles. There's been something every day, all on top of your regular schedule. Busy two weeks."
Kenn shrugged lightly. "Unleaded is my new cologne."
"Smells like a hard worker, someone with ambition looking for a mountain to climb."
Kenn shrugged again, not looking away from those assessing blue eyes. "I've got a lot to offer."
"And I want it, Marine," he handed Kenn a thick black notebook with a silver pen in the ring. "Others see it. Many people have hinted that you should be invited onto the payroll."