The End of the Beginning
Chapter 35: A Plea for Him

As the sun lowered in the twilight sky, William became ever more familiar with all of his squadron members, shaking their hands, giving high fives, pats on the back. It hurt to smile at the end of the day’s session, but it was a pain worth feeling. Solar powered lights overhead, the course dark in the trees behind them, William offered his final words of the day to his team in the Yard.

“Good job, everyone.” Some of them clapped once or twice, others bobbed their heads smiling, some knelt on one knee. “I know it was tough, dirty, and you want to get outta here ’cause I smell so bad.” Everyone chuckled. “But we all did it and we’ll all do it again on Wednesday. When that day comes, we’ll do it even better and push away from the pack, showing everyone what SAR Squadron 3 can do.” “Yeah!” yelled Mckay.

“All day, every day,” said Sergeant Paul Macom, raising a fist.

“Bossman,” shouted Rescue Officer Simba Mambiri, “and new friends. When is this dinner thing happening? Are we eating dinner? First team dinner, yeah?” “We can do that,” smiled William. “I assumed you guys might want to just sleep but we can do food. Let’s put it to a vote. Sleep or food?” “Food,” team unanimously yelled.

And with that, they jogged back to the garage, showered, changed, and all agreed to meet at the nearest dining hall in one hour. Before leaving the training center on a rental bike, William was stopped by someone. They shouted over to him. It was one of his squadron members, Rescue Officer Sergey Mamedov, brother of Samir Mamedov.

“Captain, Captain, please wait, please!”

William stopped his bike. “Oh, ahhh, Rescue Officer Mamedov… right?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry for stopping you.”

“That’s alright, Rescue Officer, what is it?”

“May we talk, Captain,” said the shy rescue officer.

“Always, you know that. What is it?”

William knew what this was going to be about. The rescue officer was sheepish and did not look at William when he talked. His hands were behind his back and words were spoken in a deep Russian accent. He was just a kid at twenty years old.

“Well, sir, as you know by now I am brother of Samir Mamedov who is also in this squadron.”

Yep, just as he thought.

“My brother, sir, I know he can be difficult to command; he was never good at listening when growing up. He does not wish to be here but we have no other choice. We were orphaned when our parents died.” William signed sadly. “I’m so sorry Mamedov.”

Sergey put his chin down into his chest. “We had nowhere to go so we came to UNIRO to build some kind of life for ourselves. Our parents, before they died, had always wanted us to go to UNIRO. Just before they died they used their last breaths to beg us to replace our way here. After their death though, Samir shutdown and has never been the same. I feel him spraining his ankle today was on purpose, trying to be sent home for injury. He does not want to be here. He is an angry, stubborn person…” William sighed and put his hands on the handlebars. He then remembered the crumpled piece of paper Samir had given to him. And, the flash of fear on his face. William had yet to look at the paper.

“How did your parents die,” asked William.

“Terrorist attack sir, in St. Petersburg three years ago.”

“I sorta know how you feel Mamedov. I never knew my parents. It sucks.”

“But it is no excuse for his behavior, sir. Please don’t take offense, he is difficult with everyone, even myself sometimes. I can never get through to him. I have tried to talk to him about all this, but it’s no use. I will again but the same will come of it. Perhaps you can talk with him, yes? To keep him here, to stay, to see what we are doing here is not a waste?” William was going to talk to him regardless. He needed to know why he had acted so strangely in the bed of the Blazer. But, William thought it best not to involve Sergey in his brother’s struggles. He needed everyone he could on his team in the clear.

“Don’t worry, I will talk to him. Maybe once he gets through training he will come around. Sometimes people need to get their feet wet before they go all the way in.” “Feet wet, sir?” asked Sergey, confused at the expression.

“Never mind. I will talk to him.”

“Thank you, sir. He has been here over a month now though and he still has not shown interest at all.”

“I have been here for about month now too. I was hesitant in the beginning as well. I didn’t know if I wanted all this either. But I see what it all means to the world. Samir will come around. Together we can help, okay?” “Yes, sir, thank you sir. He’s all I have left. Goodnight, sir,” Sergey said, nodding with each saying of sir.

“Goodnight.”

Waiting till Sergey was out of sight, William plunged his hand into his pocket. The piece of slightly damp, crumpled paper was still there. He looked over his shoulder one more time. No one was around. The sun was almost gone, the training center dark, and the air still. William almost felt a kind of eeriness being alone.

He opened the tiny piece of paper. The ink writing on it was a little smudged from his sweat but the writing on it was still clearly legible, and disturbing. William whispered allowed what it said.

“Thou art amongst traitors.”