Pain radiated through her arm, every jolt of the boat as she guided it through the swells sending spikes up to her neck and out into her back, so much so that she hardly even noticed the rapidly deepening bruises along her ribs and hip where the safety line she has tossed together has tightened against her father’s weight and drag when he’d grabbed her hand.
It seemed like an eternity but only maybe a minute had passed since he flopped onto the deck, passing into apparent unconsciousness. Tears of pain and worry rolled down her cheeks, she’d never really seen in the archives any evidence of him taking wounds like the raw, bloody mess she saw leaking onto the teak deck. She didn’t know if he could heal these. Indecision warred within because he’d said they were in Mexican territorial waters and as far as she knew, they didn’t have any identification with them. She hadn’t packed any, which seemed so stupid now. She’d looked up the Coronado islands earlier this week. The good news was he was still breathing shallowly, but she didn’t know if it was good or bad that his muscles were spasming.
She reached for the emergency radio handset. She’d never used it. She wasn’t quite sure she remembered how to broadcast, and it was super awkward since she couldn’t lift her right arm right now, so she pushed the throttle down, slowing the boat so she didn’t flip the boat through something silly like falling against the conn through exhausted tripping.
“Hey, kiddo.” She heard the wheezing statement as the volume of the engine and passing air lessened.She pushed the throttle to the full stop and dropped down to a knee, nearly collapsing onto his chest as tears conttinued to fall from her eyes.He reached up with a bloody right arm to encircle her, hugging her tight as they both winced in pain, whispering, “Hush, Livy, it’s going ta be fine. Hush, hush.”
A broken sob escapes her, “I don’t know what else ta do.”
“It’s ok.” And he just holds her for a couple minutes as the boat loses speed and settles.
Slowly he begins to get some strength back but he can feel some problems.
Regretfully, he says “I need ya ta do something.”
She leans back onto her knees, a small part of her silently screaming that she just wanted the comfort of his solid arms around battered body and spirit, but instead she nods.
“Up front under the center seat, there’s a small cabinet. Get the pliers out of there and bring them ta me. Next to it is a waterproof eqiupment bag, bring it too please.” Even with his immense healing, he’s much quieter by the time the last word is out of his mouth.
She stands up, wearily. The adrenaline is dying out, but her Dad asked her, and she tries to ignore the pain, but a steady blue streak comes from her mouth, and if she’s too tired to remember that he can hear, well, who cares.
She sits down, nearly falling down, but hands him the bag and the pliers. “So you may not want ta watch this,” but she’s not really watching, her eyes starting to glaze in pain.
“Shit,” he had sensed she was injured but not that bad, so he reaches down, taking her dive knife from her belt, then sticks it into a puckered but puffy scar in his abdomen. “Bogan’s balls on a fuckin’ fake digger,” but as the metal slices through the scar, blood and bile gush out, and he sticks the pliers in, digging around until he hits it, and then yanks with his enhanced strength, pulling out the massive shark tooth in a gush of dark blood, and even his vision wavers again.
“That’s kind of gross. Dardy….but gross,” but her words are kind of slurred.
“Fuck.” Recognizing the symptoms of shock and exhaustion, he staggers up, more blood pouring out of him as the smaller jaw attached to his foot breaks loose. He picks her up, and shes cries out in pain, “Sorry, kiddo, sorry, just a moment.”
William’s “speedboat” even has a small cabin in the middle, so he ducks his head, carrying her battered and light body down into the cabin, “Your going to be ok, just need a little warmth.”
He lays her down on the standard bed in the center, slowly unzipping the top half of her wetsuit, but she cries lightly as he gets the left arm out, but screams unknowingly when he tries to do the same for the right side. Guilt and anger and a rage at seeing her suffering runs through him, but very softly his rough hands use the titanium dive knife to slice the sleeve into shreds before peeling it off, revealing the bikini bather he told her not to wear, but it also shows the massive swelling all through her arm, bruising on her abdomen and peaking out from the west suit shorts are more bruises along the hip. He grabs a blanket, tucking it under her, because she’s pale and clammy and in apparent shock. Then he rips the top of his shredded wetsuit off, grabs another blanket thrown across the bed, then lays down next to his only child, covering them both with the blanket, cradling her to his chest, holding her carefully, sharing the unnatural heat of his body to fight against the shock and exhaustion.
Out of the sealed bag, Brett grabbed his com device, placing it in his ear, letting the mic lay on his neck instead of moving his sleeping daughter.
“Apex, come in please.”
“G’day mate, how ya going Ghosto!”
“Apex, is there enough bandwidth on this boat for you to upload these video streams from our dive suit cams and then play it back to me on the screen here in the boat.”
“Piece of piss.”
“Good on ya, can you edit and play both streams into a single screen, matched times, for simultaneous playback.”
“Reckon.”
Brett just waited patiently, content to hold his child.
“Ready, my snake mate!”
“Play.”
He watched all of it through twice, 52 minutes each time, without pausing, before asking Apex to do some analysis on certain sections to determine if there was anything he had missed.
While Apex pulled that apart, combined it with some research into historical oceonagraphic records, he finally slid out from Livy’s sleeping form, frowning as she winced in her sleep because there really was no good way to sleep with all the swelling and bruising her body was showing. It was time to go back home, but he watched one section again, no more than a minute. The stream from his cam died, well, basically as it tore off when he drove off the massive shark, so its data became irrelevant as the shred of suit and camera floated downward. As he swam upwards, his blood and wounds attracted the other smaller sharks. It had not been a pleasant swim, but the tank, while damaged for real now, had given him a few breaths or he’d have been in real trouble, and not just from getting eaten alive.
What he really watched though, what he was really interested in, was the view from his daughters cam. You couldn’t really see her face of course, only what she did. Maybe ten seconds as she recovered from being thrown into the boat, a bit of panic, but her reactions were amazing. She didn’t hesitate. She remembered various emergency procedures he had taught her. She ignored pain. Most importantly, she acted. Sometimes you can choose the wrong action in an emergency, but rarely does “doing nothing” help. Tracking the sharks in an instant, playing the odds on what it meant. Beautiful, inspiring, courageous, and, ultimately, life saving.
“Apex – can you find this spot on the bow camera, rear facing.”
“Piece of piss.” Brett just shook his head in resignation at her Australian terms. She wasn’t wrong, it was just fucking weird.
As the picture came up, Brett looked. He sighed. He stood there for a while, weighing the moment, the image, the love, the possible dangers.
“Apex, put these words up……..”
IThe sentient artificial intelligence responds in a much more formal tone of voice. “Are you sure, Brett?”
“No. But she’s earned it. With conditions to be determined of course, but that can be done tomorrow. Just put it up there.”
“Acknowledged.”
He walked up the stairs and started the engine. “Time to go home.”
“Hey kiddo, time to wake up.”
“Leave me alone, Da….its the weekend. No practice.”
He chuckles, “Well, I guess yadon’t want ta know if ya passed then.”
“Whaaa? Passed what?” Then conscioucness hits her fatigued mind, and she starts to sit bolt upright, before hissing and then screaming, “Motherfuck a bogan’s trashy momma.” Her Dad catches her before she can slide, fall, collapse in pain.
“Take it easy, kiddo. Got some injuries we’ve got ta get checked out.”
“Injuries…..injuries……I look like a zombie watercolor painting over half my body.”
“Ya passed your scuba test kiddo. Good on ya…..Congrats! Even if ya wore a bikini top when I told ya not too.”
She flushed for a second, both at the praise and in slight embarrasment but then in a soft voice, “Dad, I can’t pass, I didn’t find the broken guage before we left.”
“Ya are right, technically, and ya admitting that to me, just proves my case. Oh, but yapassed. I knew it was broken. I put it back on the tank while ya were cruising us out there. There was air in the tank. I wanted you to know ya could do it. Ya did everything perfectly. Even after. That’ wasn’t part of the test.”
“Ya twisty bastard……if everything didn’t hurt so much I’d hit you.”
“That’s cool, what’s the word ya used? Dardy. It’s Dardy…..” Olivia rolled her eyes, “I wanted ta hit my instructor too when he pulled a similar stunt.”
As he walks back up the couple stairs, “Ya might look at the TV screen for a sec. Kind of dardy…..
“Stop saying dardy Da, ya sound like a dumb ass wanker,” as she laughed. and then winced in pain.
Then she looked at the TV screen and the laughter died.
The LED screen showed the picture of her strained, holding onto the conn, limbs spread, arm wrenched back over the gunwale, her Dad climbing over the side, which looked really cool and terrifying at once. But the words insert into the top of the image:
RED WIDOW MISSION ARCHIVE: File #1000001: RED WIDOW RESCUES GHOST VENOM
After a couple of minutes, she staggered up the stairs, wincing at with every footstep.
“Hey kiddo, I could have helped ya up here,” he says from the conn of the boat.
She just walks up to him, lifting her left arm and leaning into him on that side for a hug, her face muffled into his chest. “Really, ya mean it? I can do it?”
He strokes her long brown hair with his rough hands. “I don’t say things I don’t mean, noodle.”
She stiffens slightly, “You’ve never called me that before.”
“I know, I just heard your Mom say it so often over the last few weeks, I don’t have ta if you don’t want me ta..”
“No, it’s ok.”
“But – really? I can…..go out,” the excitment surges through her pain filled voice.
“Can we talk about it tomorrow? I know yer excited. But yer tired and injured, and while I’m willin’ ta consider it, there’s goin’ to have ta be some conditions. All of which we need ta talk ta your Mum, and then I need ta talk to your uncles. They have ta agree too.” He can feel as he talks every moment she likes and dislikes, as she tenses or relaxes.
“Conditions? What kind of conditions?” as she continues to speak into his muscled chest, hoping to hide her reaction.
“Fine. If you want to talk about it right now. Be warned before we start. This really won’t be a negotiation. This will be me dictatin’ what tis and isn’t acceptable. If you want ta be treated like the Red Widow, then ya are going ta have ta act like what I expect.”
“uhuh.”
“Livy, sit down here so I can see ya and see the port traffic at the same time.” She sits down, wincing as she does.
“What’s yer long plan? What’s yer cover identity? Yer real job?
“I’m thirteen Dad!”
“What’s yer point?” Nodding as if he had made a point, he continues “Exactly, yer thirteen and want me ta approve of ya trekkin’ around the city fighting hardened criminals who may have killed or raped or any of a number of things.” Catching sight of her opening her mouth, “Don’t even start ta say, ‘but I’ll be with Uncle Bryce’.” I’m not expectin you to have those answers today, which is why we need to discuss them and a whole bunch of other things. Education, trainin’, racin’. All kinds of things that have to, ABSOLUTELY have to be completed to be able to go on patrol with your uncle. We can figure out the details, but…….
“No problem. I agree. I completely fuckin’ agree! She starts to do a little happy dance and then says,”Ouch, that fucking hurt. I’ll sure be happy when we get back to base and Rook can heal this.”
“Oh really, Rook is yer personal healer now? Ya sure Henri’s around? Rook goin’ on patrol with you?”
Scowling, “What do ya mean?”
“Noodle, ya were amazin’ today,” watching her face brighten, “but what happens if you keep some girl from being pushed off the roof of a building, Ya catch her, just like today. Ya get her up. But the dickhead who pushed her is still there. Except yer shoulder’s now fucked up. How you goin’ to fight? How you going ta know what the pain’s like ta fight?”
She pauses, considering, “Ya mean train…….are ya saying train like this?”
“I’m sayin’ we should think about it. Yer Uncle Bryce is a great super hero, he really does want to help everybody. But…..Livy,” he slows down to a crawl bringing the boat up to turn into the channel to head towards the closest public dock to the Paragon Center, “Bryce doesn’t know what its like to fight without powers, not really. Intellectually, maybe, but he never had to actually do it. I spent years doing it. It’s not easy. It hurts. It hurts a lot.” He pauses, “And I know, I’m makin’ this totally less cool than just throwin’on the Red Widow daks and headin out ta bash heads. Ya want ta patrol with Spyder, I’m willin’ to consider it. I’m not tryin’ ta get in the way of that, not really, if that’s what you really want, at least not anymore. Nor am I goin’ to interfere with yer martial arts training with Uncle Brant. What I want ya ta do is think about this, and talk to your uncles, your Mum, hell talk ta Whitley and Henri or Shawna.. Go talk ta Gran if you want. I’m offerin’ to teach you everything else I know. Weapons, Demolitions, Security, Infiltration, hell frankly construction ta help us build a new home on the base.”
“Ya think about it. Then we can talk it all through tomorrow maybe, with your Mum. What I can guarantee though, regardless of what ya decide ya want ta do with me, or learn from me, once we outline the conditions of “patrol,” if ya don’t do them, there will be no patrol. Make no mistake. Do NOT test me on that one.”
She sat there, emotions warring through her. Joy, finally, the Red Widow will truly be out there, but stunned because……her Dad had never really opened up to her like that. That was more words about a real topic than he normally spoke in a week. Something had changed, and somehow she could tell that he meant every word.
“Ok….” she said. “So no Rook. What then?”
“We go to the Paragon Center. Where we do not say what really happened, only that you had an ocean skiing accident and got dragged. Oh, and your Olivia Smith, daughter of Oliver Smith.”
“If it’s bad enough, then maybe, just maybe, we ask Henri for help later. But….you can’t count on it.”
“Gotcha, Boss Smith.”
The driver pulled up into the Urgent Care section of the Paragon Center, “Just a moment, sir, I’ll help you,” but Brett had already opened the rear door and gotten out, then walked around to open Livy’s door.
“Dad?”
“Yea, kiddo?”
“I know you said I needed to figure out how to do this while injured,” and he can hear the tears and frustration in her voice, “but I don’t think I can get out right now by myself.”
“I got ya kiddo,” he leans in and very gently slides his arms under and around her. As he pulls her out of the car, tears start leaking down her eyes from the pain. “Livy, it takes a really strong person who really, really knows they want ta do something, to admit that they need help. I can’t tell ya how proud ya’ve made me today. I wish I could have always been here. Your Mum’s done a great job.”
He walks through the automatic doors, with his daughter cradled in his arms.
“Excuse me……”
The receptionist doesn’t even look up, chewing bubble gum & flipping through papers, “Just a moment, I’ll get you started in a second.”
Having seen nobody waiting in the reception area, Brett waited all of thirty seconds, “Excuse me…”
The receptionist said, “Just a second, I’m busy.”
She can sense that her Dad is about to explode, “Dad, I think there’s a nurse right there.”
He turns slightly and sees a young nurse, mid-twenties, “Shit, what’s her name again?” he mutters. “She’s the one that kept dyeing her hair different colors after the one time we 
had run into her at some bar somewhere…..”
“That’s right…..,” then speaking more loudly, “Nurse O’Malley, can I get a little help here?”
His daughter looks at him, realizing he’s muted his normal Aussie accent and phrasing.
The nurse, startled by hearing her name called, looks up, and sees a barechested man holding a teenage girl in a bikini top and part of a wet suit….and the girl has all kinds of bruising running along her side and arm.
“Listen, sir,” the receptionist starts to say angrily before she’s interrupted, “Chief Smith? Oliver? Is that you?”
“Hey Wendy, yes its me.”
Wendy, who’s hair today is blue and pink, hisses at the receptionist, “I can’t believe, Harriet, that you made Chief Smith just stand here,” and when the receptionist looks up and sees Oliver glaring down at her, she goes just a little pale. “Sorry, Mr. Smith, I was just finishing up some paperwork.”
“Yes, I’m sure the models at Vogue appreciate your dedication analyzing their articles.”
Harriet flushes red, and Olivia chuckles, before gasping, and then, Wendy walks behind Oliver, lightly drawing her hand across his bare shoulder, “Follow me Oliver, I know Exam 3 is open.”
They walk down the hallway and make the short turn into Exam 3, Wendy opending the door to make sure its empty.
“Alright kiddo, I’m going ta lay you down on the table.”
As he straightens up, he notices Wendy gazing at him, breathing a bit rapidly. “Wendy?”
“Oh, yea, sorry, I’m assuming Harriet didn’t actually get you checked in, let me bring up the form on my pad here. So……what seems to be the issue? Let’s see…..who are we seeing?
“This is is my daugher, Olivia.”
“Smith I assume?
“Yes, yes.”
“I didn’t realize you and Shawna had a daughter Oliver,” she says as she punches different squares on the pad while she looks over the girl.
“My Mum’s name is Amelllll….,” she kind of hesitates, “Amie.”
“Ohhhhh,” says the nurse. Then she sort of brightens, “Sorry, about that Oliver, Olivia.”
“What’s there to be sorry about?”
“Oh, oh…..so that’s….I got it. I didn’t realize that night….” and she becomes even more cheerful, her pale skin flushing lightly.
“So what’s the problem then with little Olivia here,” at which Olivia scowls and mutters “big enough to knock the blue outta your hair.”
“We had a bit of a ocean skiing accident and she dislocated a pinky from landing wrong. Bruising on ribs/hip/abdomen, maybe fractured ribs, from the safety line wrapping around and dragging her. The right elbow and shoulder wrenched pretty badly. Lots of random contusions. Minor shock earlier but we got her warmed up, and a bit of fluids and food since then.”
“Alright, then, let me go get Dr. Dover. Thankfully he’s covering for Dr. Fowler today…. And Oliver, if you need any help, at any time, just call me. I can help with all kinds of things.”
“Thanks Wendy.”
As the nurse walks off, “Wow, Dad, Nurse Wendy sure has the hots for you.”
“What are you talking about? We’ve only met a couple times. Once at a bar when, well, never mind, and once here at work that I remember.
“Sure, Sure.”
“Accident while skiing, is that right?” The dorky doctor kind of huffs a bit at the explanation.
“Well, if you look at these scans, you weren’t too far off on the list of injuries you gave Wendy, here,” who he smiles at as she looks covertly at the head of security.
“Roughly, you were right. Quite precise actually.”
“Long time ago I was cross trained by a pretty good medic, Doc.”
Dover idly scratches at his scraggly beard, “Off by degrees more than assessment. The pinky was already back in place.
Oliver interrupts, looking proudly at his daughter, “She did that herself.”
Dover harrumphs, “Well, young lady, you should really let us medical professionals see to the treatment.”
“As I was saying, badly contused hip, abdomen, the bottom rib is slighly out of place, but we can manipulate it back in, sooner the better just to be done with it. It will of course be painful. Severely strained elbow, although no outright tears that I can see. Same with the shoulder, not seperated by some miracle.”
“Slings, braces, wraps and some light pain meds. I can do steroid shots in the joints and we can do some locals for today to let her rest and alleviate some pain, and especially for the rib before we move that. Wendy, can you start getting that all setup. I also think we probably need a crutch for a couple days to lean on and take the weight off that hip, at least until you get home and if you go anywhere.”
“Sure, Doctor,” then she smiled at Olivia and Oliver before ducking out of the room.
“The other thing I noticed, Oliver, is there’s some old scarring, and looks like damage to this wrist, and to the knee. Not aggravated today, but….I……well, I kind of gotta ask. Can all these injuries be documented?”
“Before I say something wrong, Dr. Dover, are you implying something?” steel had entered Smith’s voice now.
“You know its my job to ask Chief Smith, your personnel have had to intervene in this very room!”
Oliver sighs, “I don’t really like to discuss my personal life, Doctor, but if you must know, my daughter and I enjoy rather extreme sports. She’s grown up playing rugby, racing motorcross, we ski, climb, all kinds of things.
Frowning at the explanation, Dover sanctimoniously replies, “Well, given the nature and amount of injuries, I would suggest you take better precautions.”
“Hmm, I can see your point Doctor. Wonder what those injuries woud look like without proper precations.”
“Hey Doc,” Olivia says, “I gotta race in ten days. Can I race?”
“Absolutely not. I’d say it will be at least four weeks before even light physical activity.”
“Four weeks? Are you Fu…….fricking kidding me?”
“These injuries are quite serious……not to be taken lightly.”
“Dr. Dover, I assure you we take them very seriously. We will comply with your instructions.”
As Nurse O’Malley walks back in, “Well, then, let’s get this over with so you can get some relief from that pain little one, and get you on your way. I suggest some good pizza and movies for the next few days.”
After they left the medical center, the exhuastion of diving, injuries, pain medicines and, excitement meant that Olivia fell asleep in the high end Uber Brett had arranged.
And while everything would need re-heated, he got a massive amount of food from the Asian restaurant in the lobby, buckets of wings from Brewskis, and stopped and retreived a couple of pizzas, including one with the ham and pineapple on it that Olivia and Amelia liked, from the New York style place that opened just a couple months ago by his apartment.
When they’d finally gotten back to the base, he didn’t even mind how much she yelled at him about not calling her sooner about her injuries. He looked forward to later when he would apologize in greater detail. She wasn’t even angry about the Red Widow stuff, just replying with an “I figured as much. She’s already got ya wrapped around one finger.”
They ate….and he carried Olivia to the movie room he had built for the base. Seemed like no one was really home tonight, which was nice, although for just a moment he wondered what Shawna was doing, but then put that out of his mind. He’d get there, one step at a time.
After the first movie, Olivia was nearly done. In fact, she’d dozed during a big part of R.E.D.
Amelia said, “Brett, can you go get some more sodas. Bring the rest of the wings and the egg rolls too.”
“Sure thing,” he replied and she kissed him lightly on the cheek before he very carefully extracted himself from in between Amelia and Olivia, trying not to jar his injured daughter.
After the door to the movie theater shut, Amelia turned to Olivia, “Pretty proud of yerself, aren’t ya noodle?”
Olivia looked at her, “I guess. I mean, shouldn’t I be? Dad said he was. Proud of me I mean.”
“Yes, you should be, but that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what Mum.”
“You really need to think hard on this Red Widow stuff. Whatever conditions yer Dad sets, whatever I set, ya need to follow them. I mean really, really follow them.”
“What do ya mean?”
“I’m asking ya to not make it so he doesn’t have to choose. Follow the rules. He needs to know that he can trust you. Trust us. He worries too much. We need to make sure, you need to make sure, that we aren’t making it worse for him.
“I’m not sure I get what your talking about.”
“Yer getting what ya think you want. I’m saying don’t push it too hard, too fast.”
The door opens back up. “Leftover wings, egg rolls and pizza. And Cherry soda for everyone. Ready for RED 2?”
Last Dreams 