Deliverance - Hooch and Matt's Story (10 page)

“Thanks.” Hooch smiled before falling silent as well, until Matt finished his own meal. “Have we got any dessert?”

There was a look on Matt’s face, slightly chagrined, that Hooch didn’t quite understand, until Matt went back into the kitchen area and came out with a plate with red velvet cupcakes, frosted with cream cheese and decorated with little red sugar hearts. “How did you know? Mandy brought them in today.” He paused, as though considering whether to confess something, “they’re very good.” The words were reluctant.

Hooch showed his teeth in a sudden smirk. “Did the saintly Matt break down?” Still grinning, he reached for one of the cupcakes, greedily biting into it. “What’s the occasion?”

“Belated housewarming, she said,” Matt watched Hooch with amusement. “She was certain that you’d like them because you’re a Southerner, too, and she was horrified when I told her that I’ve never had them before.” He took one off the plate. “You can have the rest, if you like,” he added rather unnecessarily at Hooch’s covetous look.

“Looks more like a Valentine’s offering to the attractive boss to me.” Hooch swallowed the last bite of the first cake and reached for another. “What with all the hearts.”

Matt opened his mouth to counter Hooch’s remark with a reminder that it was November, not February, and most importantly that he was a good ten years older than Mandy, until he realized it was exactly the same gap between him and Hooch. Mandy really wasn’t all that much younger than he had been the first time in that safe house in Saudi Arabia. “I hope not,” he said after a moment, “that would be the last thing that I need, but I doubt it. She’s bound to have plenty of boys her own age after her
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she’s not going to look at her old boss that way. And despite the ditziness, I think she’s too sensible to risk it.”

Hooch nearly sprayed cake crumbs across the table with his sudden laugh. “Old boss? How old is she? Eighteen, nineteen?” Hooch leaned back and grinned. “Last time I checked, you knew damn well how good you look, and while it would be annoying for different reasons,” he gestured between Matt and himself, “I think Mandy fancies you. Cupcakes with hearts? Dead give-away.”

Matt was frowning. “No, seriously, I don’t think so. Not that either of us can claim to be an expert on women. If you’re right, though, at least it’ll be good cover, and I’ll have an excuse to say ‘no’ to her if you are right.”

“What would that excuse be?” Hooch clearly didn’t believe Matt.

Matt gave him a look. “I don’t screw staff. Figuratively, literally or in any other sense.”

“Do you screw roommates?” Hooch flashed a predatory grin.

Matt returned it, glad at least that this part of Hooch remained unchanged despite the earlier low mood. “Only those who help with the dishes first.”

“Bastard.” Hooch countered good naturedly, but got up and grabbed their plates. “I’ll buy a dishwasher.”

Matt snorted under his breath, and said something inaudible about people who couldn’t fill up a sink, but got out a tea-towel to dry and put away the dishes, the shared domestic chore somehow soothing in its normality.

When the last dish had been dried, Hooch pushed Matt forward and against the sink. “And now?” He moved his hips against Matt’s deliciously perfect ass.

Matt pushed back, “and now we go into the bedroom, like proper, civilized people.” He threw a grin over his shoulder as he slipped out and sauntered off towards the bedroom.

“Civilized. As if.” Hooch followed Matt in record time and kicked the door shut behind them.

* * *

Though the early days were difficult, particularly since they were starting in the winter, Matt’s gym quickly began to take off. Word-of-mouth spreading and he soon had a core, loyal clientele that was split between the active and ex-military and the gay professionals that seemed to grow by the week. Much to Matt’s amazement, the gym broke even months ahead of schedule, and he watched with satisfaction as the mortgage was steadily paid down.

Mandy proved to be an organizational wizard, had the gym running like clockwork, while somehow fitting in her college classes around the operating hours. Save asking for a few days off for exams twice a semester, Matt scarcely noticed a break in the bubbly, ruthless efficiency and the smiles and cheerfulness that permeated the gym.

The red velvet cupcakes had started a tradition, and Mandy often brought in cakes and cookies and pie for Matt and Hooch. ‘Love offerings’ Hooch continued to tease, but Mandy never gave any indication that she saw them as anything other than her boss and his roommate, two military men who couldn’t bake but needed some treats. She had an irregular series of no-hoper boyfriends, none, in Matt’s mind, good enough for her, and certainly not deserving of the momentary gloom that each caused at the inevitable breakup.

Hooch settled into his new job best he could, never quite making his peace with not being out in the midst of danger anymore, but very much getting into training ‘his boys’ and relishing the responsibility of preparing them to the very best of their ability
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and beyond
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to face the worst possible situations. He rapidly became the most feared, and the most loved and respected training officer in Fort Bragg. Anyone who was good enough to be selected for Delta training was equally looking forward to and being apprehensive of being drilled by him, because Hooch demanded everything and more, while respecting them as they respected him in return.

Domestic life settled into a comfortable routine, as comfortable as living with Hooch could be. His most redeeming trait, that of always and everywhere being up for sex and never waning in his appetite for Matt in whichever and whatever way they wanted, balanced out all the annoying traits of being mostly silent, occasionally obnoxious, and sometimes oddly sociopathic.

All in all, things were settling in nicely in Fayetteville, and life was as good as it could be.

June 2001, Fayetteville

Hooch came home one evening to a somber, silent Matt sitting at the dining table, toying with a half-full tumbler of the good Scotch that had been a gift.

“Matt?” Hooch knew something was wrong at the sight of the whisky. Matt hardly ever drank anymore, something about the negative effect of alcohol and its calories on the perfectly balanced body. “What’s up?” He dropped his pack beside the door and walked over to the couch.

Matt looked up, tight lipped, definitely more than worried. He pushed something that had been lying in front of him towards Hooch. A photograph, and a slip of paper with typed lines.

Hooch sat down and reached for the photograph. He stared at it, frozen. Not saying anything for a long time, just looking at the picture, until he eventually read the few lines. His face remained expressionless when he turned back to Matt, but the storm raging in his dark eyes showed the fury bottled up inside of him. “How?”

“Fuck knows.” Matt swallowed, and finished the rest of the drink. “I found it pushed under the door when I came up after the 1800 hours class.”

“That,” Hooch pointed at the photo print, “was on fucking Sunday. We were downstairs.”

Matt twisted the glass. “Mandy was in in the morning.” He kept his eyes on the empty glass. “We were doing the new website this week so she was behind on the schedules for next month.”

“Mandy? Shit.” Hooch looked at the photo again, then the note. “That makes no sense. Does she have money troubles?”

Matt shook his head. “Not that I know of.” He gazed off into middle distance. “She hasn’t said anything. And she would.” He paused. “I’d have thought she would,” he corrected, hating himself.

“I can’t imagine I could have got her character so fucking wrong!” Hooch clenched his hand in a fist. “What the fuck do we do now? ‘Wait to be contacted’ isn’t my goddamned style.”

“It’s not hers, either,” Matt didn’t touch the bit of paper, “at least I thought not.” He closed his eyes. “Of all people, she’s got to know us and this place inside out, and has for years. Why now?” He opened them again. “And she’s off for the next three days.”

“Yeah, why now. Makes no fucking sense.” Hooch had a hard time holding himself back, the anger raging inside. “We need to talk to her.” He slammed his fist on the table, the unspent angry energy too much to contain. “Fuck! I’m going to fucking kill the bastard who’s responsible for this, and I don’t give the flying fuck who that is.”

Matt looked pale. “I frankly don’t know what would be worse, that it’s Mandy, who I’ve trusted with practically everything but this, or that there’s someone else out there.” He paused, looking at the phone lying on the table. “Should I call her cell now and say it’s an emergency and to come in tomorrow morning, or surprise her when she’s back in a few days?”

“Call her now. Don’t give her time, if it was her. If this photo gets into my CO’s hands…”

Matt nodded and made the call, sounding far calmer and measured than he felt. A twinge as Mandy promised to be in first thing in the morning, before the first class, as bright and bubbly as ever.

Hooch kept pacing the room, listening to the one-sided conversation. When Matt switched off, he looked across at him. “And now? What do we do now? Nothing?”

“Not while you’re in that state.” Matt was deadly calm, as though the anger, the hurt and the fear had already burned through him.

“This isn’t anything I was trained for. This is personal.”

“And if we’re wrong? It doesn’t make any sense for it to be her, and you know if we’re wrong we’ll be outing ourselves to her anyway.”

“Shit.” Hooch stopped his pacing. “It’s almost worse if we’re wrong and it isn’t her.”

Matt nodded. “As I said, I don’t know what would be worse.” He slumped. “So, since it was all shit anyway, I’m drinking again.” He toasted Hooch with the empty glass.

“Right.” Hooch took a deep breath, fighting hard to get himself back under control and into mission mode, even though this was everything but a mission. “It’s Friday. I suggest we get shitfaced.”

“Excellent idea,” Matt agreed.

Hooch knew it wasn’t an excellent idea, in fact it was most probably the stupidest one they could come up with, but it was also the only one that seemed fitting right now. He went to the fridge and got the six pack of beer, a second glass, and a three quarter bottle of Russian vodka. He brought his haul to the couch area, parked it on the table next to the whisky bottle and Matt’s glass, then poured himself a large glass of vodka and Matt one of whisky. “Whatever happens, Matt Donahue, I take dishonorable discharge over anything else. Got it?”

Matt nodded, “got it,” and slammed down his drink.

Neither slept well that night, and despite nagging hangovers, they were up and downstairs in the office well before Mandy pulled up in the parking lot and unlocked the front door of the gym. Her habitual perkiness only slightly punctuated by a yawn.

She caught the looks on both men’s faces. “What’s wrong?” she asked, concern all over her features.

Hooch was about to step right into her personal space to loom over her, when Matt held him back.

“Hooch, maybe you should just wait outside the office,” he said firmly, and turned back to a very confused Mandy.

“Okay.” Hooch reluctantly let his stare slide off Mandy. Watching their backs as they went into Matt’s office, the door kept ajar.

Mandy looked at Matt, the smile fading off her face. “What’s happened?” her voice low and, for once, no exclamation mark at the end of the sentence.

“Please sit down.” Matt indicated a chair at the small round table in his office, and sat down as well. All too aware at any time of the presence of Hooch outside. “Mandy, this is a delicate question.” He rubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes. Damnit, he had a hangover and his head was pounding, but he had to get through with this. “Do you have money troubles?”

She frowned at him. “No, well, no more than usual.”

Matt nodded slowly. Okay, that wasn’t going all too well, the subtle approach had never worked for him anyway. “So you aren’t looking for ways to make more money?” Damn, but that was a stupid thing to say. He blamed his headache, or just the fact he had no clue how to go about a situation like this. “Thing is, I received a photo. And…” this was it. He heard Hooch pace outside, and this was the moment of no return, “…and a blackmail letter.”

A gasp, and her jaw dropped. “You…and Captain Bozic? And you think that I…” her bottom lip trembled, and she stared at him with wide, shocked eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mandy, I really am, but…” Matt flustered the moment the trembling bottom lip was joined by large eyes filled to the brim with tears. When she began to cry, he realized he’d just accused her of a major breach of trust. He didn’t know what to do with the crying girl, but Hooch rescued him when he stuck his head into the room.

Hooch was unfazed by the tears. “Mandy, did you say ‘you and Captain Bozic?’”

She sniffled, “what else would they blackmail you with when you’re both here? It’s not as though you’re cheating your taxes or underpaying anyone or hiring anyone illegally or building code violations or anything.”

Hooch stepped inside the room, looking first at Mandy, then at Matt. “You know we are…?”

“Together?” Mandy finished helpfully, sniffing again, “aren’t you?”

“Uhm…” Matt stammered, while Hooch reached for the box of tissues on Matt’s desk, wordlessly handing it to Mandy, while Matt tried again. “Well, yeah, but how?”

Mandy took a handful of tissues. “It was pretty obvious right from the beginning,” she blew her nose, “sending me off to get you both lunch that first day and just paying for the two of you automatically without either of you saying anything because you needed to talk about something personal; when you kept mentioning whether Hooch wouldn’t like this or that when we were doing the apartment, how you nearly always go on holidays together, spend most weekends together, go to Matt’s family for Thanksgiving together; all your bills go out from the same account and there’s never any quibbling; how both your bedrooms are always locked when I send the cleaner in but most times there are only footsteps going in and out of one of them when either one of you is getting changed; neither of you’ve ever had a woman stay overnight and you’re nearly always here every morning; you never have buddies over to watch the game or anything; you never check out any of the women who come here, even though the few who come here are all pretty hot; you don’t do your laundry or your grocery shopping separately, and you’re always so careful not to touch each other in public.” It was a long, disjointed list, which ended with Matt holding his pounding head in his hands and Hooch sitting down with a groan.

“Shit.” From both of the men, almost simultaneously. Followed by “we’re so busted,” from Matt.

She looked at them while wiping her nose. “I mean, there was also that neither of you made a pass at me, but that’s quite easily explained by good manners.”

“And age,” Hooch commented drily. He’d pulled himself together quicker than Matt, and for the first time ever in Mandy’s presence, he rested his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I’m sorry we suspected you.” Matt nodded and sighed as Hooch continued, “but who the hell took a photo of us in the gym?”

“Here?” She was taken aback, “but I’ve made sure that nobody’s ever on the same routine long enough to see any patterns.”

“You did?” Matt gasped out, looking at Hooch who appeared suitably impressed with her foresight. “The photo was…wait.” Matt searched in his pocket, producing the photo and the blackmail note. “Here. It must have been taken on Sunday.”

She bit her lip and looked out the window into the gym. Almost the same angle. “It’s from my office,” she said softly, “I see how you thought it was me, but it was just me in there. I told Mike to wait for me outside.” Her shoulders slumped.

“Mike?” Hooch immediately latched onto the name and the person like he’d focus on a target at the shooting range. “Who is Mike?”

“My boyfriend,” Mandy replied, “we were heading out afterwards for lunch so I told him to pick me up from here.”

“Did you ever, at any time, leave your boyfriend on his own? Think, Mandy.” Hooch urged, while Matt reached for the photo and gently took it back out of her hands. Hooch and Matt, kissing. Just a simple kiss. One that could destroy Hooch’s career and annihilate all his military successes.

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think he came in here this far. I remember when I saw his car pull in I was just about finishing up, so I went to the bathroom and when I came out he was waiting for me just inside the door. It was windy out.” She added, “so he stepped in out of the wind.”

“That must be it,” Matt concluded. “You take a while in the bathroom, Mandy, no offence, and that would have given your boyfriend enough time.”

Hooch looked at her, “how long have you known him? Are you aware of any money troubles that he might have?”

Mandy looked miserable, shredding the tissue in her hands. “Sorry,” she said in a small voice, “just a few weeks. No money problems as far as I know, but…” She paused, as though realizing something, and shrank even further. “He had a new digital camera on Sunday,” her eyes were firmly on the table, “and I remember it was odd, because he wouldn’t let me have a go on it, when usually he can’t wait to show off his new stuff.”

“Where did you meet the guy?” Hooch was like a dog with a bone.

She sniffed, her face blotchy from tears, “it was at a party in the student union. I don’t know who brought him with them, he isn’t one of the students.” She blew her nose noisily. “I thought he was cool.”

“Cool.” Hooch snorted, but anything else he was about to let rip remained unsaid, when Matt placed a hand on his arm to calm him.

“Can you remember what you might have told him about your job, or anything that might have given the guy the idea to snoop around and take pics?” Matt asked.

“No, I…don’t know.” Mandy admitted, misery incarnate. “I was so happy, because he came straight to me at that party, and he was flirting with me all night.”

Matt looked pointedly at Hooch, before he asked carefully, “do all of your friends know where you work?”

“Sure,” she nodded, before blowing her nose once more. “It’s a cool job, so I told them all about you and the gym, the guys who come here, how much fun it is.”

“Did you also talk about me?” Hooch tried to keep his voice from being razor sharp, but when Mandy cringed nevertheless.

“Uhm…no, not really, just that there’s a cool Delta guy who’s my boss’s roommate.” She blushed furiously when she looked down at her hands, sounded wretched and guilty. “I think I was a bit drunk and I might have boasted about how cool you two are.”

Hooch groaned, but was quickly silenced by Matt, who had a lot more sympathy with Mandy’s faux-pas than Hooch could ever muster. She wasn’t exactly enemy and counter-intelligence trained by the military.

“Could it be,” Matt carefully asked, “that some of your friends who are friends with this guy, talked to him about what you told them?”

She was still looking at her hands. “I don’t know…but it’s possible?”

“I’m just thinking that all of this might have been planned by that guy.”

“You mean he was never interested in me and just used me to get to you for blackmailing?” She was more upset than ever, tears falling once more.