Want

Annapolis, MD
July 3, 1987

"Do you enjoy sailing, Alex?" Spender asked as they were wrapping up the day's paperwork.

"Uh, sure," Alex replied without taking his eyes off of his work. "Of course." He had never, in his twenty-one years of life, set foot on a boat.

"The members of the group will be at the marina tomorrow to celebrate the holiday," Spender explained. "I'd like you to be there."

"Yes, sir," Alex replied eagerly. "I'd love to come." He'd been interning in Mr. Spender's office for nearly six months, and this was the first time any sort of social invitation had been extended. Alex was anxious to meet the other members of the group; he only had one more year before graduation and the kind of contacts he could make at an event like this would be invaluable.

"Good. Why don't you go home early today, Alex," Spender suggested. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

July 4, 1987

Alex parked his motorcycle and breathed in a lungful of fresh sea air. The marina was impressive. There was a showroom featuring extravagant yachts and a repair shop with a massive boatlift and storage warehouse. The yacht club itself was a large two-story building covered in tastefully weathered wood shingles. The side that faced the water was almost all windows. There was a restaurant on top with a view of the river, and a deck wrapped itself all the way around the building, giving diners someplace to enjoy a cocktail and the cool breeze off the water before their meal.

Alex stowed his helmet and leather jacket and checked his reflection in the mirror. He adjusted the belt on his new pants and tucked in his new shirt. As a boy born and raised in a working class neighborhood of Des Moines, Alex's idea of proper sailing attire was white pants, navy blazer with gold buttons and a white captain's cap. His current wardrobe consisted of jeans and t-shirts, plus the two suits -- one navy and one brown -- he wore to his job in Mr. Spender's office, so sailing had required something new. The khaki slacks, navy Polo shirt and boat shoes were all he could afford.

Alex walked into the cool dim interior of the yacht club. The brass-railed bar and leather chairs were mostly empty. Everyone was out enjoying the warm sun and brilliant water. He asked a passing waiter where he could find Mr. Spender's party and was directed to the balcony.

Outside, overlooking the marina, Alex found Spender sitting with six other older gentlemen. They sat on canvas deck chairs or stood at the railing in their expensive suits. They smoked cigarettes or cigars, and they drank scotch from heavy crystal tumblers.

"Alex, I'm so glad you could come," Spender greeted him as he stubbed out his cigarette.

"Thank you for inviting me, sir."

Spender took Alex's arm and immediately steered him towards the staircase that lead down to the docks. Alex was disappointed that he wasn't to be introduced to anyone. He had only heard a little of their discussion, but it was enough to know that these were powerful men.

"I want you to meet some of the younger members of the group," Spender explained. "It's time you had some friends who share your ambition, Alex."

Alex wasn't sure he understood; he had plenty of friends at the academy. He nodded in agreement anyway.

Spender and Alex walked out onto one of the nearby docks. On one side seven or eight sailboats were moored. There was one tiny boat with a red and white striped sail and several open racing sculls. The other side of the dock held powerboats outfitted for water-skiing.

Alex watched as a group of young men in brightly colored swim trunks and t-shirts loaded coolers and picnic baskets onto the boats. Attractive young women in bikini tops and bright white shorts sipped wine coolers and chatted. The pleasant breeze blew the girls' long hair around their faces and carried the sound of their laughter.

Spender placed a fatherly arm around Alex's shoulder and gestured one of the young women over.

"Marita, I'd like you to meet Alex."

Alex extended his hand and the girl took it in a warm friendly handshake. Marita was the most beautiful woman Alex had ever seen. She was tall and strong with golden hair and tanned skin. Blonde haired blue-eyed girls were a dime a dozen in Iowa, but there was something different about Marita. Even wearing a red, white and blue bikini, she had an air of sophistication that no fresh- faced farm girl had ever possessed.

"Look after Alex for me, Marita," Spender instructed with a benevolent smile. Then he returned to the old men on the balcony.

"You'll be too hot in those pants," Marita said as soon as he was gone. She took Alex's hand and led him back towards the yacht club. "My brother has some swim trunks you can borrow."

Marita waited in the hallway for Alex to change his pants. When he emerged from the locker room, she laughed at him good-naturedly.

"Alex, take your socks off," she suggested.

Alex looked down at the white calf-length sweat socks he was still wearing with his boat shoes and blushed. He quickly took them off, then turned around, modeling his new outfit in front of Marita.

"Much better," she said. In fact, in his blue Polo shirt and deep red and blue swim trunks, Alex thought he really looked like he belonged now. And when he came toward Marita and took her hand before returning to the boats, he thought they made quite a well-matched pair.

Back on the dock the young people had started to sort themselves out, deciding who would ride in which boat. Marita led Alex towards one of the powerboats.

"Do you water ski?" she asked.

Alex didn't want to disappoint Marita, but he thought it was about time to start telling the truth about his boating experience before he got into real trouble.

"No...sorry."

"That's ok, I'll show you," Marita said.

They stepped onto a powerboat with flashy purple and red stripes that looked fast just sitting there. Another couple joined them, and Marita expertly maneuvered away from the dock and headed out into open water.

Alex thought Marita drove like a maniac. She went careening through the water in one direction then spun the wheel sending the boat skimming sideways and backwards. The other girl screamed, and Alex clung to the sides of his seat until his knuckles turned white. Marita laughed out loud then sped away in a different direction, the boat leaping over the waves, her blonde hair whipping around her.

Marita showed Alex how to drive the boat. Then she showed him how to water-ski. He was up on two skis after just a few tries. Alex thought Marita was a good instructor and an even better skier. He was mesmerized watching her lift effortlessly out of the water balanced on a single ski.

When the sun began to set, turning the few clouds in the sky shades of gold and mauve, Marita turned the boat back to the marina. As they drew near, delicious smells wafted over the water to greet them -- hamburgers, barbecued chicken and roasted corn. Alex realized he was starving. As soon as they docked, he and Marita joined the others for the picnic.

Alex grabbed a beer from an ice-filled tub for himself and found a wine cooler for Marita. She laughed at the amount of food he piled on his plate. He surprised her by finishing it all.

As twilight fell, several of the young men started a bonfire on the beach. Blankets and beach chairs where gathered around, and a boom box played music nearby. Marita led Alex to one of the blankets. He sat down and stretched out his long legs. Marita sat very close and drew his arm around her shoulders. They watched the fire crackle and spark for a long time without saying anything.

"The fireworks will start soon," Marita said, finally breaking their comfortable silence.

"Uh-huh," Alex agreed.

"We can see them better away from the fire." Marita rose and held out her hand to Alex. He followed her back to the marina and onto one of the docks where the yachts were located. Alex wasn't sure where they were going, but he hadn't gone wrong all day by following where Marita led. He had no intention of stopping now.

Marita stepped onto the deck of a huge yacht, over 100 feet long. She led him into the salon. As Marita walked around the room turning on lamps and opening windows to the breeze, Alex looked around. He had never seen anything like it. Plush sofas and armchairs in elegant shades of rose lined the room. The tables were of highly polished mahogany.

"Would you like a drink?" Marita asked indicating the well stocked bar.

Alex shook his head no.

"I'm not really thirsty either," Marita agreed as she walked towards him and moved into the circle of his arms. She raised her face to his in a clear invitation. Alex wasn't about to refuse; he bent down and kissed her.

Alex broke away after a moment to see if this was all she wanted, but Marita twined her fingers through his hair and pulled his head down for another kiss. Alex let his hands wander from her waist, across the smooth skin of her back to her shoulders. It was cool out and Marita was only wearing shorts and a bikini top; her tanned skin was covered in tiny goose bumps. Alex rubbed them away.

Alex kissed his way across her jaw line to her neck. He let his hands fall to her breasts and squeezed gently. When Marita didn't object, he moved his hands to the waistband of her shorts and hooked his thumbs inside. Alex pulled slightly away from her then and looked intently into Marita's pale blue eyes -- silently asking for her consent.

She was quick to give it. Marita slid her white shorts to the floor and helped Alex pull off his shirt. She turned away for a moment to turn out the lights. Then Marita took his hand in hers and led him into the bedroom.

The sun rose over the water and tinted the bedroom furnishings a rich gold. Alex stretched and slowly came awake. He got out of bed and walked to the window without bothering to dress. The water was calm and glassy. Everything was still and quiet except for the ever-present gulls searching for their breakfast.

The morning air was cool on his skin, so Alex pulled on his borrowed swim trunks and wandered back into the salon looking for Marita. The salon was also empty, but Alex could smell cigarette smoke coming from the open door to the aft deck. He wrinkled his nose in distaste; he hadn't realized yesterday that Marita smoked.

Alex walked over to the bar and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of orange juice and went barefoot out onto the deck.

"I trust you enjoyed yourself last night," Spender said as Alex came through the open door.

Alex froze. He felt faint as he took in the sight of his employer, relaxing on a deck chair and smoking a cigarette in the early morning light. How did Spender know about last night, Alex wondered, shielding his bare chest with the orange juice and blushing furiously.

"The group has a spot for a young man with your abilities, Alex," Spender offered. "There are certain benefits." He indicated the yacht club, the boats and the cabin where Alex and Marita had spent the night with a wave of his cigarette. "If you want it."

Alex thought about the privileged lifestyle he had been given a taste of yesterday, the beautiful young people, their light- hearted manner. Most of all he thought about Marita. He'd never met a girl like her before - sophisticated and confident. If there was a chance he could be with Marita, he wanted to take it.

"Do you want it, Alex?"

Barely breathing, Alex whispered, "Yes." He wanted her.

"What did you say, Alex?"

"Yes."

UROFF-KOLTOFF STAR OF RUSSIA
Enroute to New York City
February 3, 1998

Alex opened his eyes. The memories faded at the sight of the rusting hulk of a ship he was currently traveling on. This wasn't what he'd had in mind when he'd taken Spender up on his offer all those years ago.

He was out on his own now. Well, more or less on his own. There was Marita, whose plans currently intersected with his own. She hadn't recognized him at first in Kazakhstan -- quite a blow to his male ego. He had a few plans that Marita didn't know about yet, and they involved reminding her of exactly who he was in the most intimate way possible. Ten years ago he'd been a boy. Now he was a man. She wouldn't forget again so easily.

Alex told himself it wasn't smart to dwell on Marita. There were more important things to deal with when he arrived in the US. The fate of the human race, for one. Despite the plans they'd made before he sailed from Vladivostok, he really didn't need Marita. He had never really needed her, but he had always wanted her. Still wanted her...

He shook himself from these thoughts and checked his watch.

Time to tend Dmitri.