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I was sitting on the bench, trying to calm down a bit as I was looking at the ground with my hands on my forehead. The roaring of thousands of people around me wasn't helping either. As I finally decide to look up, I let out a long sigh to what I was looking at. The scoreboard wasn't lying, the Yankees were ahead 3-2 over us as we were heading to the bottom of the 9th inning. We were at Game #5 in the ALDS and the pressure was on.

"Heading to the bottom of the ninth inning, the Red Sox batters will be Manny Ramirez, Shea Hillenbrand and Jason Varitek." The announcer said.

The thought of batting right after Varitek made me shiver a bit, but before I had time to worry even more, I felt a hand placed on my shoulder. I looked up to see that Coach Little was looking at me with the biggest smile I've ever seen on his face.

"I know that you're going to make it alright, kid! I'm not worried at all." He said locking his eyes into mine.

"Thanks Grady." Was all I found out to respond, shyly smiling back to him.

"Good. But, don't make me regret putting you in the lineup instead of Rickey!" He said half-joking, turning his heels to concentrate on the game.

My smile slowly faded away as I also started to concentrate on the game, this time, a bit more relaxed. I didn't had any time to get lost in my mind again as I heard the loud crowd start to booed. I jumped out of the bench to see that the count was already 0-1 against Ramirez, probably a close call by the umpire that put all the Red Sox fans in a very tense mood. Ramirez let the 2nd pitch go under his eyes as the fastball went high and away. The next pitch took him by surprise as he swung very early to a pitch that seemed to be a changeup. Then, Ramirez took a time to tighten his shoelaces and got his stance back, waiting for the next pitch. He let the ball pass, but as soon as it found the catcher's glove, he heard the umpire call the third strike on him.

Ramirez instantly turned himself to the umpire, his mouth agape. After arguing a couple of seconds with him, he made his way back to the dugout under the loud and angry boos of the crowd. As I was getting my gloves, bat and helmet ready for my turn, I saw in the corner of my right eye something coming quickly. I had barely time to get my head away as Manny's helmet flew across the dugout to end its course on the wall.

"¡Mierda de árbitro! Qué pedazo capullo..." Was all I heard of him, the rest coming into incomprehensive mumble that were probably not so nice anyway.

I let him alone with his anger and turned myself to see Hillenbrand going to the plate. The boos turned into cheers as Shea get his stance ready for the first pitch. He swung and made contact with the ball. As the ball went high in the air, everybody in the Red Sox organization held his breath. The ball goes deep in the center field, but unfortunately, Bernie Williams was there and easily caught the fly ball. The whole crowd went silence for a couple of seconds realizing that the next batter might be the last of the season, but cheers came back louder than before when Jason Varitek made his way to the plate.

In the same time, I walked to the spot where the due-up players use to stretch and get ready for their turn. On my way, I got encouragement words from the players, coaches and even some fans which made me feel a little bit better. As I reached the spot, I started to warm me up a bit, taking slow swinging motions and of course, followed what my catcher was doing at the plate. He already let the first pitch pass and the umpire didn't call anything, so it was a ball. The 2nd pitch, a nasty curveball, made him a bit off balance, but he managed to hit the ball. The ball started to roll on the infield in Derek Jeter's way. As the shortstop was about to catch it, he, for no reason, lifted his eyes off the ball for a split-second making its way between his legs and under his glove. As Varitek reached the first base, the crowd exploded, knowing that there was still a little chance the Red Sox could at least tie the game or even better, win the game.

"And now coming to the plate, left fielder, number seventy-three, Vince Filiatrault !" The announcer said as the crowd went instantly insane.

'I think it's time for some Yankees ass kicking!' I thought to myself way more determined than a moment ago, but still a bit rattled. I walked to the plate looking all the way at the green monster and at the last moment, in Mariano Riviera's eyes. I made my routine parade; hitting both of my shoes with my bat and then swinging it rapidly below my knees "trying" to hide the catcher signals to his pitcher. I finally took my stance and wait for his first offering.

The first pitch surprised me as the fastball was way too inside making me take a step back. On the second pitch, he tried the breaking ball, but it ended on the dirt making the catcher practically throwing himself away to catch the ball. Waiting for the next pitch, I noticed that Riviera was trying to get his composure back, so I decided to take a little time-out. The Yankees closer shook his head in disagreement forcing him to pause. While I was tightening my gloves, I looked to my third baseman coach who was giving me some signals. He was asking me to hold my swing for the next pitch, which I agreed with. Getting back to the job, I bit my lower lip when I saw his fastball coming right in the middle of the plate. But when I saw his fourth pitch, a hanging curveball, I didn't think twice, I swung at the ball like if my life was depending on that.

As soon as I finished my swinging motion, I looked up to see that the ball was already high to the left field.

"It can't be real! NO, IT CAN'T BE REAL!!" I shouted to myself.

The ball went deeper and deeper until it passed over the Green Monster and end up in the parking lot, but I wasn't paying attention to the ball anymore. The crowd all around me literally exploded as our team just beat the Yankees with a walk-off home run.

With my right hand as high as I can reach, running slowly around the first base, I yelled. "NO FUCKING..."

"CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!"

"GET UP, YOU FUCKING LAZY PIECE OF TRASH, YOU BETTER BE READY..."

"HEY, WATCH YOUR MOUTH WHEN YOU'RE TALKING TO MY SON!!!"

"HE'S ALSO MY SON, I HAVE ALL THE RIGHTS TO..."

"WHAT?!? MARK FILIATRAULT! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"

"Ooops...Well sorry Vince, I guess I'll have to go explain myself with your mother..." My father said to me before closing my bedroom door as he was already back arguing with my mother.

'What a nice way to start the weekend...' I thought to myself, as I looked to my clock. 'Who in the fucking world wakes his son up with pans especially when it's 7 am?'

I sighed loudly while I quickly removed my bed sheets from me and got up. After a little stretching session, I reached the doorknob and rolled my eyes as I heard my parents nearly yelling at each other. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door to another day in my unusual life. I quickly walked by the kitchen where my parents were but didn't stop as I entered the bathroom and slammed the door behind me causing both my parents shutting their mouth. Not paying attention if they were back to their "discussion", I took a piss and wash my teeth. After an endless shower, I dried myself and rushed back to my room to get some clothes. I finally made my way to the kitchen where my parents were now looking at me with questioned looks.

"Is everything alright Vince?" My mother asked me.

I didn't pay attention to both of them and grabbed myself a bowl, a spoon, my cereal box and some milk then quickly made my way to the living room where my brother was already watching the TV.

"Hey" Was all he said.

"...hey" I answered, getting my breakfast ready, not caring to what he was watching.

"The Sox played like dicks yesterday..." He said to me after a short awkward moment of silence, fully aware that I watched the same game as him last night. I only grunted in agreement as I was still looking to the white porcelain bowl in front of me, eating my cereals.

"...if only Rickey Henderson could've been at least a bit good...Damn, three strikeouts including the final one in the 9th inning...! The old bastard should retire, 44 years old, can you imagine? I think he shou-...Vince?" He didn't even have the time to finish that I was already making my way back to the kitchen with my things.

"Well, it's been a REAL pleasure to talk with you Vince..." He said to me sarcastically and got back to his business.

I was lost in my thoughts while I was putting my breakfast stuff away when two arms wrapped around me into a tight hug. I didn't even move to return the hug as I know that the person who was standing behind me was my mother. I slowly pushed her away, finishing putting my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher.

"Vincent, what's wrong with you today?" She gently asked me with a clear worried tone in his voice.

As my eyes were starting to watering, I turned myself to face my mother and yelled, "POURQUOI FAUT PARLER EN ANGLAIS MÊME DANS' MAISON?!?!" I was now crying and tears were rolling down my cheeks.

As she took a deep breath, preparing herself to explain his son, for the hundredth time, why they have to speak in English even at home, she just smiled and looked at me with some kind of comprehensive eyes.

"I understand why you're so angry hun, but you have to realize that this house and town are now our new life. Your dad and I have decided that it was the best way, for you and Louis, to quickly learn how to properly express yourself in English. 'Cause you know, Vince, there's nobody here in Brimfield who speaks French except the four of us."

"But why did we move here? We just could have move to another place where some people use to speak French?" I said, forcing myself to speak the way my parents want to and trying to stop crying, sniffing loudly.

"You know that if we'd had the choice, we probably would have moved to someplace like Maine, Louisiana or New Orleans instead of Massachusetts, but that's where your father has been assign and we have to respect that."

"But I want to move back to Montreal and be with my friends..."I said, pausing to wipe off the tears with the back of my hand. "I don't have any friend here and it sucks! And on top of that, there's no Taijutsu school near Brimfield... That's the only thing I'm good in."

"And Baseball? You're good at it! You're practically the best player in the team! She asked, trying to cheer me up a bit.

"Nobody in the team talks to me except the coaches even if I play good. At school, everybody's laughing at me, because I always tripped on words I don't know or having a hard time trying to pronounce them..." I was on the verge of crying again but my mother hugged me tight. This time, I hugged her back.

"You're still learning Vince, it's been only 5 months since we arrived in Brimfield. For a little boy who was only able to say "Yes, No and Thank You", I think you did very good in this short length of time." She said, gently freeing me from his embrace. "I personally think that it's only a matter of time 'til someone come and talk with you. You'll see." She winked, making me chuckling as I was finally able to smile. "That's better like this, don't you think so hun?" She said, seeing his son happy.

I nodded. "Thank you mom!" I answered, hugging her again.

"Now go prepare yourself, don't forget that your last baseball game of the season is in an hour." She reminded me.

"Oh shit, I almost forgot!" I said, already rushing to my room.

"Language!!" she shouted to me before I disappeared behind the door.

Five minutes later, everything was ready. I grabbed my things and made my way out of my room. As soon as I get out, my father yelled to wait him in the car. Without losing any time, I started walking but my mother stopped me.

"Good luck my little superstar. And don't worry with your Taijutsu courses, we'll find something soon." She said to me before kissing me on the forehead and waving goodbye.

I sat in the car waiting for my father. My mind started to drift away as I thought of what brought us in the US.

It all started with the tragic events of 9/11. I think I will always remember where I was that day. I was in grade 4 in my elementary school back in Montreal and it was the recreation, we were playing outside as usual. After the 20 minutes break, we all headed to our classroom waiting for our teacher. He came five minutes later with a concern look on his face asking us to listen to him.

"I have terrible news to announce." He paused. "Earlier in the morning, an unknown terrorist group hijacked two planes and made them crashed into the World Trade Center. As far as I know, there are many hundreds of persons who perished in that accident."

"Are we safe here Mr. Trudel?" Asked one my classmate. We were all terrified.

"Yes we are. There is no way terrorists would attack our city..."He answered, trying to be calm and laid. "What you just witnessed kids, is one of the most terrible tragedy in world history..."

Then follow the war declaration of the United States against the terrorism movement. On December 4th 2001, Canada and United States secretly signed an agreement which gives the US extra qualified men for dangerous missions. That's when our family got involved into all this process.

My father is a high-ranked officer in the Canadian Forces. I've never known that much on him, because he was always keeping his mouth shut when my brother and I were asking questions. The only things that we know are that he's high-ranked and that his base was located in Trenton, Ontario. Sometimes, my father could be away from home for months and some other times, for only couple of days.

Last winter, my father got a call during the Christmas break telling him that he had been transferred to the Westover Air Reserve Base, located in Chicopee, Massachusetts. They also told him that his whole family had to move with him, only a matter of paperwork. And because of the said paperwork, the four of us had to wait until May to finally know where our new house was going to be. My father didn't get into much detail when he explained it to us except that it was highly confidential and was a diplomatic secret between Canada and the US. It made it very difficult to find a logical reason for why we had to leave our former lives behind.

I think that I was the one in the family who had the most difficulties to accept that new reality. My parents were already very fluent in English, because of their jobs and my brother was already good with it, being three years older than me was helping it. I was the little kid who didn't know a word in English; I was the popular one in my classroom, always getting high scores. On the other hand, my brother Louis, was kind of a lone guy, he had great scores too, but wasn't as popular as me. My parents tried all their best to make me realize that it was a great opportunity for me to grow up being perfectly bilingual. Initially, I wasn't too thrilled about that, but I finally accepted it.

But the month of May came and we made our way to Brimfield with already our US citizenship in hand. As soon as we got there, my father started to work. Instead of his random schedule like in Quebec, he worked from Monday through Friday starting at 7 am and finishing at 3 pm. Louis and I didn't went straight to school, because the year was ending, but we were able to take the final exams from our former school to be able to normally continue our education.

With the summer coming, I decided to join the local baseball team. Unfortunately for me, nobody in the team was living in Brimfield, because our team was grouping many little towns across the near area, but it didn't bother me. I was playing good, but all the players were a bit reluctant to chat with me, because I wasn't able to express myself correctly, so I wasn't the loudmouth like I used to be in Montreal. Then the school began, so my worst nightmare too.

On the first day, the teacher asked me to present myself to the rest of the class. I was so nervous I think that if I'd been naked, my whole body would have turned red.

"Eeeuh...He..Hello, my n-name is Vincent Filiatrault and...eeeuuh...I -" I paused thinking of the verb I should use, the other students were already sniggering at me. "I...have... 10 years and -" The kids were now literally laughing at me, some of them pointing me.

"ENOUGH!!" The teacher yelled at the rest of the class while I was having a hard time holding my tears. They stopped laughing; some of them were still chuckling though. "It's alright Vincent, you are still LEARNING how to express yourself." He said putting emphasis on <learning>, letting the rest of the class know that I was only beginning. The class was now silent.

After teacher Chad corrected me on my word choices, he continued explaining the rules in his class and the usual bullshit. I tried to concentrate on the course in front, but I was so distracted by all the other students that were staring and laughing at me. The rest of the day was so long, I thought it last a week. When the final bell rang, I quite last, but before I had time to left the classroom, Mr. Chad stopped me.

"If you want Vince, I can help you learning English properly." He asked seriously. I shyly nodded. "Don't be embarrassed, it's perfectly normal for someone who is learning a new language to have some difficulties. So, if you're interested, let me know if your parents agree with this and it's gonna be ok." I just slightly smiled back to him and returned home.

My mother didn't even had the time to know how has been my day that I was already in my bedroom, door shut crying in my bed. I was asking myself why in the hell they were so mean with me. 'It's so unfair; I'm not someone like that. Why is this happening to me? When they were new people in my class back in Montreal, if they were black, Asian or even the furs, I was not bully, I was helping them getting along with everybody...' I was now crying even more than before.

It continued for the first two weeks, each day, getting back home crying, but my mother was there to comfort me and cheer me up. My English was already improving with the help of Mr. Chad and now I was able to ask questions during the class.

"Lost in your thoughts again, huh?" My father asked me, making my shoulders jumped and getting me back to reality. We were already halfway through our little travelling to the baseball field. "Were you thinking about our earlier dispute?"

"Um, yeah." I lied.

"You know that your mom and I love each other?" I nodded silently. "Well, sometime our points of view are very different and it's perfectly normal, but this morning, she said that I was treating you too harshly recently..."

"Why did she say that?" I asked with a questioned tone.

"You know, getting you up like in the army and acted like if you were in...Things like that. Is it bothering you when I act like this?" He said, a bit disappointed.

"No it's alright, I don't mind. In fact, I like it when you act like a child." I added, teasing him.

"Hey! It's not a kid game, it's real life, don't take it too carelessly. I'm warning you." He jabbed me on the shoulder making both of us laugh.

We let the good moment between us go by and the laughs were now collapsing slowly returning to silence.

"Why there are no furs in Brimfield?" My father looked surprised at first, but looked amused to my question.

"Because, they all ran away when they knew that you were coming in Brimfield!" He just sneered at me, satisfied with my reaction.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" I retorted sarcastically.

"Seriously... I don't really know, maybe because the town is too small... Brimfield is very far away from being like Montreal. There's probably a bunch of furs in Boston if you want my opinion." He said, trying to say something worthwhile.

"Do you work with them?" The question was burning my lips from the beginning.

"Yes, my part-." He stopped, biting his upper lip as he knows that he just had made a huge mistake.

"WHAT?? Your partner is a fur?!?" I screamed my eyes and mouth wide open in disbelief. "But..." Realizing that something was wrong. "... in the army, you're not supposed to be split into squads or something like that?" I was waiting his answer impatiently.

He sighed to himself. After a short pause, he took a deep breath and looked at me.

"Well, I guess I have to explain why we-. THANK God, I'm saved!!" He pointed to somewhere. My smile faded away instantly as I saw the baseball field coming into sight. He stopped the car's engine as we were now in the parking lot.

"Don't think that you're out of danger." I told him, smiling devilishly at him.

"Play well and MAYBE I'll tell you everything..." He sighed, defeated. It was all I had to hear, before hurrying my way on the field, joining my teammates in their warm-up.

The game went on rapidly, but my mind wasn't on the field. As usual, I didn't talked too much, but I played a good game even if we ended up losing 6-4. I nearly ran out of the baseball field to look for my father. He was talking with a man I didn't know and when he saw me coming, he rolled his eyes as I was grinning like never before. He managed to smile back to me.

"Hey, my little Guerrero played really good today!" He said proudly, loud enough so that the other parents could also hear. "Two doubles and two Rbis, that's not something to ignore!"

"Thanks, but you know I don't like the Expos...Don't call me Guerrero please!" My father and the other guy laughed loudly as they saw my embarrassed look.

"Alright then, my little Ramirez." He retorted, still laughing. When he saw the look I was giving him, he immediately knew what I was waiting for, like if he'd read my mind.

"Hey who am I not presenting you to my colleague!" He said, trying to redirect my attention to his friend. "That's Rick Hodgson; he's working with me at the base."

"Nice to meet you sir." I said politely, as we exchanged a handshake.

"Nice to meet you too Vince, please call me Rick." He replied. "I think my son had a hard time with you today!" He joked. In the same time, his son joined us.

"Oh!" I recognized the other team's pitcher.

"Hey dad!" He greeted his dad before turning back to look at me.

"...Hey that's Vince, you know, Mark's son." He interjected before his son had the time to talk. "So, Kyle, Vince. Vince, Kyle." He made the introductions.

"You played great today man!" Kyle friendly admitted.

"Thanks." I said modestly. "You pitched well too. If it wasn't you, we probably would have won the game." Giving him the credits for their win.

"It's nice to see that you're already getting along together kids, because Vince is coming home with us for the afternoon." Rick announced. "Mark and I have to discuss about the job."

---

"When are you going to tell me why you're partnered and with a fur, you promised th-." I nearly begged as we were now back in the car.

"I said I'll talk about it later!" He cut me, firmly enough making me instantly quiet.

In a complete silence, we followed the Hodgsons. Fortunately, their house wasn't too far away from the baseball field, so we made it in nearly two minutes. As we got out of the car, I just stood there watching at the beautiful house in front of me. Old grey stones were covering the entire house with a high forest-green cathedral like roof. Adding a chimney on both sides of the house and old squared windows; this house was simply superb.

"Hey! Ho! Vince! Are you going to stand like this the rest of the day?" Kyle shouted, waving me to come closer. "Want to play some baseball again?" I nodded, excited to have a new friend. "Then, let's go behind my house. The one who's reaching the oak tree last is a faggot!" He was already dashing to the spot I didn't even know. So, I just followed him.

************************Change of view*****************************

The two fathers just looked at their sons running out of their sight. Mark couldn't be happier for his son who finally just made a new friend.

"Well Filter, wanna come in?" Rick invited. Without adding anything else, Mark followed his colleague in the house.

After greeting his wife and telling her the game result, Rick led Mark downstairs and went in his little office. After closing the door behind him, "Filter" sat in front of the large wooden desk where Rick was already standing behind.

"Well, Mark, there have been some changes in our plans." He said thoughtfully, as he sat on his chair. "General Matters told me yesterday, not long after you left, that the departure date will be next week, on Monday."

"Are you kidding me? He said it wouldn't be until the end of November!" Mark retorted discouraged.

"I know, but our sources reported us that a new player entered in the game recently. His name's ************ . For now, our information indicates that he provides Al-Quaïda's men in weapons and in light artillery. But he's ambitious. We suspect him being behind the train crash tragedy that killed Russia's Vice-President last week. We've never seen his face; he never shows himself in public and always stays hidden. We also know that he regularly changes his hideouts."

"So, I guess that Xander and I will have to investigate in one of his hideout?" Mark figured.

"You're right and we know where his last refuge was. So you'll have to investigate in K?rsava, Latvia looking for any terrorism evidences. That's all I know for the moment, we'll know everything next week."

"So I guess that we were the only ones available for this mission?" Mark asked, a bit bored.

"Unfortunately yes and General Matters insists that only two men are required for this mission..." He said, disapproving the decision. "At least, you can't say that your captain don't like you!" He joked, trying to cheer his friend up a bit.

"Well, thanks Rick, I appreciate it." Mark answered without any conviction.

"That's why a captain is always there for his men!" He finished. "Want to go outside and play with the kids?"

"If it can help cheering me up a bit..."

************************Change of view*****************************

We were now playing soccer and I was the goalie. I was so concentrated that I didn't even hear my father and Rick coming by.

"Mind if we play with you boys?" My father asked with a forced smile.

"Hey dad, you'll be the goalie, I've not been able to fool Vince even once." Kyle nearly ordered.

So we played soccer for a good hour and we were having a lot of fun. But I noticed my father wasn't in his usual cheerful and animated mood and it worried me a bit.

The rest of the afternoon went by very quickly and we had a lot of fun, but, unfortunately, it was time to go home. After thanking the Hodgsons for their hospitality and exchanging phone numbers with Kyle, we got in the car and started to roll.

"Did you had a good time with Kyle today?" My father asked, his two hands holding firmly the steering wheel, not leaving the road off his eyes.

"Yeah! He's really great; we have practically the same points of interest!" I answered happily. "How was your day?" I returned the question, a bit more seriously.

"T'was okay." He simply replied.

"What's wrong dad?" I asked, worried.

"Well..." He paused and sighed. "I'm leaving next Monday. I'm going to Iraq." He half-lied. "And I don't know for how long."

I didn't answered, shocked. A part inside me was telling that it was going to happen anytime soon anyway and another part was afraid of it, knowing that it might be the last moments I'm sharing with him.

"Well, I think it's the appropriate time for me to explain the entire partnership thing..."

To be continued...