by Laura Acton
Sighing, William rubbed the back of his neck to release the building tension headache. Yvonne doesn’t idly issue threats … there will be hell to pay the next time I go home. I’m putting duty above family again, but I must, I have no choice, too many will die if I don’t. Daniel will understand once I explain things to him, even if Yvonne never does.
He comprehended both Yvonne’s and Daniel’s rage. Yvonne vocalized her displeasure, her tongue lashing quite thorough, whereas, Daniel comported himself professionally in their brief dialog. Though, William discerned the muted anger hidden behind Daniel’s mask of respect for the position … and he hoped … now for the man making the life and death decisions.
Moving to his chair, William slumped down, exhausted by his long day which was not over and at the same time about to start all over again. William glanced at the new photo on his desk from Christmas. He stood beside Daniel with his arm slung over his son’s shoulders, both grinning like idiots as they held the snowball launchers aloft after winning a round as a duo.
His relationship with Daniel was rocky. They made progress during the Christmas holiday, but William wouldn’t delude himself. Their path would never be easy. This action would likely put up another barrier between them, one he would strive to dismantle after Daniel arrived.
When his email pinged, he pivoted to view the screen. A weary exhale escaped, noting it was from Yvonne. Only a few days ago, their conversation had been quite positive. His lovely wife on cloud nine because Daniel opened up to her and sought her advice … a yearning of her heart sated after so many bleak years. At least the connection between Yvonne and Daniel is stable. Daniel will need her help to deal with what Lexa and the team put him through.
A surge of intense anger coursed through him, Yvonne’s news had not been all roses and sunshine. Pastore and Hardy were now on his shit list for their mistreatment of Danny and for stating Lexa deserved better than his son. Their asinine remarks made him want to put their images on a target downrange. The situation here the past two weeks kept him too busy to return their calls, but now he was too outraged. It will serve them right to be left hanging in the dark wondering about Daniel’s condition.
He opened Yvonne’s message and read the extremely detailed contents on the proper care of their son as specified not only by the local doctor but by Bella’s physician who had been caring for Daniel up until yesterday. Before he finished, another email came in … one from Bella. He blew out a breath, preparing for the written dressing down his godmother surely sent.
After reading, William’s misery increased. Bella’s scathing words stemmed from the intense love she carried for both Daniel and him. Without Bella, they would’ve lost Danny when he was sixteen. She stepped up and guided Danny through a rough transition with tender kindness. He owed her and Keswick more than he could ever repay.
Closing both emails, he buzzed the outer office, aware a skeleton staff would be outside at this time of the morning. “Corporal, come in.”
When the bleary-eyed soldier entered, William directed, “Arrange for VIP accommodations for four within the safe zone by fifteen hundred. Captain Blain and I will be staying with my son and his companion for at least a week. When Galloway comes in, inform him to set up security.
“I will email you a list of medical supplies and other items which need to be available in the quarters. Alert base transport Master Corporal Broderick and Mr. Keswick are arriving via private jet, call letters Charlie Foxtrot Delta Mike Romeo, and must be collected from the airport at sixteen hundred.”
“Yes, sir. Anything else, sir?”
“Coffee. Hot, black, strong coffee.” He wistfully glanced at the locked desk drawer. With a bourbon chaser … I wish. Perhaps later.
“Right away, sir.”
Bella’s Jet En Route to Afghanistan
Resentment towards his father continued to grow after they boarded the plane. The hubbub of preparing to leave, which kept his mind on the here and now, died away as the silence surrounding him for the last four hours allowed Dan’s mind to ruminate on the past. Every mile closer to Kandahar, his anger increased. Although he now knew the general had not been trying to kill him back then … that was on Major Plouffe … everything he endured while in the desert assaulted him.
Memories of all the brothers he lost, Brody, Dutch, Buzz, Yankee, Shy, Unicorn, Robbie, Gambit, and Baboon crowded in. Every mission he survived where he had been left hanging in the wind with no backup because Plouffe continually sent him out without his brothers, caused his stomach to burn. The sheer number of assholes who believed he received special treatment because he was General Badass’ son made him hot under the collar. If they only knew what being his son truly wrought … being manipulated by a psychopath, sold to terrorists, tortured … yeah, real fucking special.
Dan unbuckled and pushed himself out of the plush chair. He hissed and bent over slightly, his eyes whipping to Wilson, hoping he didn’t wake him. Noting Wilson continued to snooze, Dan straightened up, gripped the chair back to steady himself, and breathed through the pain. Once under better control, he shuffled to the back of the jet to use the facilities.
Zipping up afterward, Dan peered in the small mirror and smirked as he noted his civilian attire … jeans, t-shirt, and hiking boots. Thoroughly ticked off, Dan refused to stop in Toronto to pick up his military uniform. I swore I would never wear that damned tan uniform again. General-Summon-My-Ass will have to take me dressed as I am or not at all.
He turned on the faucet, washed his hands, and splashed his heated face with tepid water as his thoughts returned to how Mom and Bella reacted to his forced reactivation. A lopsided grin played on his features and warmth filled his heart. I never want to piss off Mom or Bella … they can be downright scary. Women I would want to be allies, but never adversaries. Dad is in the dog house with both of them and will be receiving the cold shoulder for a while.
When the expression of fear and awe on Granger’s face as Bella and Mom grilled the arrogant doctor came to mind, Dan chuckled. The doctor became haughty when Dan told him he would be traveling against his recommendation. Dr. Granger didn’t understand Dan had no choice but to go. Bound by both honor and legal contract, he must present himself to the general as promptly as possible. Under the combined blitz of questions and demands from his fearsome mother hens, Granger’s attitude dissolved and he created a mile-long list of dos and don’ts before arranging a supply of medication.
Exiting the lavatory, Dan recalled the shards of green ice in his mom’s eyes as she wrote the email providing strict instructions regarding what he was and was not allowed to do, his nutritional needs, and details for the base doctor concerning his condition. His mother actually included a threat in her missive to his father. ‘William, you better follow all the directives or else.’ Dan wondered what or else meant … but refrained from asking.
Sudden turbulence caused Dan to lose his footing, and his right side rammed into the rounded corner of the galley counter. Red-hot pokers stabbed his abdomen, and his white-knuckled grip on the shelf is all that kept him from crumpling to the floor on his knees. His eyes slammed shut as he panted through the excruciating pain.
Awakened by rough motion and noise, which sounded suspiciously like a moan, Wilson turned his head to peer at Danny and found the seat empty. Concerned as soon as his eyes landed on Dan at the rear of the plane, his hand moved to the seatbelt and fumbled with the latch. On his feet in the next second, Wilson rushed to him, swaying this way and that as the jet bounced.
“Dan?” Wilson grasped hold of Danny’s elbow and the handle on the wall, providing support.
Opening his eyes, Dan exhaled in a whoosh. “Shit, that hurts.”
“What happened?”
“Bumped into the damned counter when the turbulence caught me off guard.”
“Let’s get you back to your seat.” Wilson maintained his grip and stabilized Dan as they made their way to the seats as the jouncing motions began to smooth out.
> With care, Dan lowered himself into his chair, grimacing. He closed his eyes again, leaning his head into the soft cushioning.
Wilson crouched and secured Dan’s seatbelt. “I’m going to raise your shirt and take a peek, okay?” Getting a slight nod, Wilson lifted the fabric, and gently probed the area near Dan’s liver, checking for any hardening which would indicate renewed bleeding. He noted Dan squeezing the padded arm of the chair and glanced up at his face in time to catch the gritted teeth.
Rising Wilson check his watch, and said, “Time for meds.”
“Yeah, okay,” Dan hissed out. As Wilson went to get his medication, Dan was happy with one concession or condition his mom stipulated. Wilson must accompany him to Afghanistan. The general agreed because Wilson was ex-Special Forces and used to being in active war zones.
Mom put Wilson in charge of his care and ordered Wilson to make sure Dan followed the doctor’s rules implicitly. Wilson’s job might be impossible depending on what my assignment is. Wish General-Get-Your-Ass-Over-Here had given me the slightest clue as to why he ‘explicitly’ needs me.
As the agony ebbed to a more manageable level, Dan cracked open his eyes and let out a long sigh. He also appreciated Bella’s condition. She insisted he was not well enough to travel up to twenty hours on hard metal seats and arranged for her pilots to fly him on her private jet. He tried to tell her he would be fine on military transport, which caused both Mom and Bella to laugh.
He learned they shared the same meaning of the word fine … except for the first word … Fucked up or Fouled up, Insecure, Nervous, and Emotional. He discovered trying to tell either of them no, was equivalent to putting raw meat in front of a lioness and instructing her not to eat it. Not a snowball’s chance in hell they will listen.
Wilson returned with a handful of meds and a bottle of water. He opened his hand and offered the water to Dan. “Here, take these.”
“Holy shit! What the hell are all those for?” Dan asked, gawking at the multitude of pills.
As he set them down on the table beside Dan, Wilson identified them. “Well, we have your painkillers, antibiotic, a sleeping pill, multi-vitamin, fish oil, B-complex, probiotics, vitamin D, iron, rhodiola rosea, creatine, and vitamin C.”
“No way! I’m not taking all that.” Dan popped the pain reliever, antibiotic, and sedative into his mouth and washed them down. He required those three. The painkillers because he hurt like hell after knocking his side. Antibiotics due to the continued low-grade fever … he didn’t want any complications with infections. And the sedative because although exhausted, his mind wouldn’t shut down and he needed sleep before facing his father.
Dan shoved the rest away. “Don’t care if you tell on me. I refuse to take those. Don’t need them, don’t want them.”
Wilson chuckled. “Yeah, I thought this would be your reaction when Bella told me to give those to you. Since you took the doctor-prescribed ones, this will be our secret. If I told the ladies you didn’t take them, they would chew me out, not you. Just promise me you’ll be good and not get yourself killed or injured. I like living too much to tell them I allowed that to happen.”
Reclining the comfortable chair, Dan brought up the footrest and allowed his eyelids to shut. “Sorry, can’t promise that won’t occur yet … no idea what the general wants. But I will vow, I’ll do my best not to. I like you living also. Night, Wilson.”
As Dan prepared to sleep, Wilson tossed the remaining pills in the trash pail, grabbed a blanket and unfurled it over Danny, then returned his chair. “Night, Danny my boy.”
A Father’s Heartache
48
May 23
Kandahar – General Broderick’s Office – Outer Office – 1630 Hours
Erect, steel-backed, shoulders squared, chest out, eyes forward, chin level, features set hard, Dan marched into the office of General William Broderick, each step a crisp and deliberate strike on the ground until he halted at the corporal’s desk positioned near the general’s door. His tone unyielding, he said, “Master Corporal Daniel Broderick reports as ordered.”
Corporal Dawson glanced up from his paperwork, his breath catching as he spied a youthful version of General Badass. Shocked by the carbon copy before him, from the icy voice to the fear-inducing sapphire eyes and stone façade, which in the case of the younger Broderick had been beaten to hell not long ago, Dawson gawped like a guppy out of water. Scary how alike they are.
Layers of time disappeared as Dan caught the whispers from the soldiers around him. Several he recalled from when he stormed out of here after signing his early release papers. However, the man he addressed was new and appeared petrified. Part of him could care less, though another part was sorry his demeanor intimidated the corporal. But there was nothing he could do about it. Something about this place did this to him. He planned to stroll in, loose and casual, but his body had a mind of its own.
About to ring through on the intercom to inform the general of his son’s arrival, Dawson stopped when the interior office door open.
At his first glimpse of Daniel, William halted and stared like a deer in headlamps. My God … no wonder Yvonne is furious.
Dawson’s gaze bounced back and forth as the same colored eyes locked on one another. One pair frosty and obstinate while the other showed a flash of sadness before shifting back to the normal unreadable. Though superfluous, Dawson stated, “Sir, your son is here.”
William understood his son would be angry, but he didn’t comprehend how furious until Daniel announced himself using an almost identical version of his own rage-controlled tone. The yellowish-brown bruising covering most of Daniel’s face nearly undid him. It took every ounce of control William possessed to tamp down the desire to embrace his son. His heart ached and yearned to eliminate the discomfort Daniel must be experiencing.
And the goddamned attention stance. He knew damn well it was hurting Daniel to maintain the rigid posture. He spoke at length with Yvonne only a few hours ago, and she inventoried for him Daniel’s full physical status and his emotional one too. He promised her he would do all he could to ensure Daniel received the care he needed while here.
He apologized profusely to her, but also made it clear he had no choice in the matter. She remained upset with him, and now he understood why. Daniel was in absolutely no condition to be traveling. He disliked that duty to country collided with family once again. All he wanted to do was be a father at the moment and care for his injured son, but he couldn’t.
Using his commanding voice to cover his sentiments in front of his staff, William said, “Master Corporal Broderick, enter and close the door on your way in.” Pivoting he strode back to his desk.
General Broderick’s Office
Dan followed and shut the interior office door before coming to attention as protocol demanded. “Reporting as ordered, sir,” Dan said, his tone still unyielding with a slight tinge of hostility.
Now out of range of prying eyes and ears, in the privacy of his office, William dropped his general’s mantle, becoming a concerned father. “Daniel, sit down before you keel over. Please.”
William scrutinized his son as he gingerly lowered himself into the chair, noting the stiffness of his movements. He also caught Daniel’s wince and the brief scrunching of his brow. My son is in pain but unwilling to show it.
Using his fatherly tone, he said, “Son, please relax. I know you’re ticked off with me, and rightfully so, but do not allow your anger at me to cause you more pain. If you do, your mother will have my hide. Please, sit back.”
Dan tried to do as requested, but this place brought old habits and terrible memories crashing back full force. He found it virtually impossible to make his body release the rigidity. Shifting backward, a sharp pain lanced his right side. The painkillers he took after they landed at Kandahar International Airport didn’t seem to be doing much to ease his agony, but did an excellent job of making his thinking muddled … not quite loopy, but certainly not in full command of
his faculties as he preferred.
Feeling more sluggish than he could attribute to jetlag, Dan assumed the potent sedative must not be entirely out of his system. The combined effects of the medications appeared to leave him unstable both mentally and physically. Proof of his impairment was demonstrated while exiting the plane. Faltering, he tripped on the stairs, bumping the same region for the third time in a week. Thankfully, Wilson caught him before he fell and did any real damage.
Wilson wanted him to delay the meeting with the general and lie down, but Dan refused because he needed to find out what was so important it required him to travel halfway across the globe. Though the meds affecting his mindset left him with as much self-restraint as a doped-up lunatic behind the wheel on a friggin joy ride, enough of his rational brain engaged for him to realize his dad must have a valid reason for doing so.
William noted Daniel’s attire. The black t-shirt with the words Talk Before Tactics and TRF logo made a bold statement as to Daniel’s views on the matter of being here. Regardless, he must tear down the barrier his action created, and as such he attempted to use humor. “You’re a bit out of uniform.” It fell flat and ultimately died on the vine as the intense glare from Daniel indicated his boy was in no mood for drollness.
“Yes, sir. I am,” Dan responded in a belligerent tone. He refused to apologize because he deliberately arrived in civvies, selecting this shirt on purpose. A tiny rebellious voice in the corner of his mind encouraged him to add, so what if I am, what the fuck are you gonna do about it? Dan clamped down, struggling to reclaim control, glad he still possessed the discipline necessary to prevent those disrespectful words from actually spewing out.
William remained silent, giving Daniel time to regain his equilibrium. He studied Daniel, perceiving the change from a querulous man spoiling for a fight to an impassive soldier. He witnessed this transformation often when Daniel recovered last summer at home. Usually, the main culprit was painkillers.