“I’m going to tell him we talked about it first. Can I say it was your idea, to protect their daughter?”
“Yes. Do that.” He didn’t hear a response and wondered if the phone call had been cut off. “Brandy? You there?”
“I’m here. I’m going to call them this morning.”
“Please don’t mention it to anybody else. That’s their family thing, and he’s not even on my Team anymore. They’ll want to keep it quiet.”
“Oh, absolutely. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“So you let me know.” He tried to think of something light-hearted to say to her, but his insides hurt. It underscored how vulnerable children and women were all over the world. And here he was all the way over across the Atlantic. Too far away to protect his own little family.
He thought about Colin Riley. He thought about how that man had suffered when his daughter had been trafficked. How he missed all the signs by his own admission. He saw himself reading that damned card and dreading to find a spot for those trees to root and become a permanent part of his little kingdom.
It would be impossible to ever really get away from all that. Everything was connected in a strange thread of human existence. He could tell himself differently, but it would be a lie. Then he thought of something.
“How are those palm trees, Brandy? You keeping them happy?”
“They’re loving it here. You were right. They do feel like guardians. They keep watch over my garden. My sunflowers are already six inches tall. The cabbage and the broccoli are doing great. Not so much the lettuce. Too late for tomatoes, I think. But we’ll have flowers all through the holidays. I love it so much, Tucker. Thank you.”
“I’m glad. That makes me happy.”
Sven exited the bathroom followed by a cloud of steam.
“I gotta go get cleaned up for dinner. Leave me a message on that other thing, and I’ll try to call back tomorrow. No promises, though.”
“I understand. Good night, Tucker.”
“Night, Brandy. Kiss my angel for me.”
“She kisses your back.”
Tucker shut off his phone and placed it in his bag.
“Everything okay?” Sven asked.
“Nothing big. Just a tough call she’s got to make this morning. I wish I was there to do it for her.”
Sven left him alone, turning his back and getting dressed. Tucker dashed to the bathroom, tore off his clothes, and stood under the lukewarm shower, letting it wash off his worry.
Trying to make himself feel better, he mused that he was only about fourteen hours away. A couple of plane rides.
But he felt like he was on the dark side of the moon.
Chapter 10
Brandy laid Kimberly down while she showered. She made coffee and a little oatmeal, staring down at the slip of paper Tucker had written Bryce Tanner’s cell phone number on. She knew she had to do it first thing, or she’d get caught up in the day. She wanted to make that call while Kimberly was asleep, and she’d not have any interruptions.
It was going to be one of the most difficult things she’d ever done. Could she trust herself with the truth? Did she hear it wrong from little Keira? Was there just a sisterly spat going on she was about to step right into? Would they say it was none of her business?
But the risk on the other side just wasn’t worth it. What the younger sister had told her was wrong. It wasn’t the sort of thing a six-year-old would just say out of the blue, which is why she believed her. And what was her reward for being honest? She’d feel like everyone was out to get her, that there wasn’t anyone there to protect her.
She’d studied sexual assault in college. What she could remember from her studies was that it always started out innocently. And the unlucky ones lived in families where things either went unnoticed or unsaid. The lucky ones were when someone spoke up, questioned something that didn’t sound appropriate.
And this was one of those.
She rinsed her dishes and placed them in the new dishwasher. She poured herself another cup of coffee, checked on the baby, and found her still sleeping soundly. She closed the bedroom door, sat down in the living room with her coffee mug, and dialed Bryce’s number.
It went directly to voicemail.
She disconnected. For a second, she felt relieved, until she realized she’d have to keep trying, because that was just the right thing to do.
So she dialed again. This time, she left a message.
“Hey there, Bryce. This is Brandy Hudson. Say, I have something I need to talk to you about and I’d really like to talk to you sooner rather than later.” She left her cell number and hung up.
Her hands were shaking, so she took an apple to help satisfy the churning in her stomach. She vowed not to have another coffee this morning, picked up a magazine, and waited.
She’d dozed off on the couch when her phone rang.
“Hey, Brandy. This is Bryce. How are you?”
“I’m good.”
“You talk to Tucker yet?”
She panicked, thinking perhaps Tucker had called him instead of waiting for her to do it.
“Yes, they got over there. All fun and games, and you know I can’t say more than that.”
Bryce chuckled. “I deserved that. So what’s up?”
“Well, this is a very difficult call for me to make. If it wasn’t for the fact that I have Kimberly here, I really should talk to you in person, but I didn’t want to wait.”
“This sounds serious. Is there some problem with Tucker?”
“Oh God, no.” Her nervous laughter sounded ridiculous. She was rethinking all her motives, her perceptions, and trying to blank out that she promised Tucker she’d make the call.
He had paused and was waiting, and she knew she’d feel horrible about sticking the knife into his gut.
“I’m afraid I have something I need to talk to you about that disturbs me. I—I wasn’t sure, so I want you to know I talked to Tucker first. It was his suggestion I call you,” she lied.
“You’re scaring me, Brandy.”
“Okay, here goes.” She took a deep breath and began. “The other day when I was over at your house, Keira helped me put my things in the car. Geri had scolded your oldest about using the cell phone, er—getting text messages she was answering while I was there.”
“God dammit all to Hell. I’m going to take that damned phone away.”
“Well, I agree with you, Bryce. And here’s why. Keira told me that Lynn was getting messages and pictures from a boy. Her boyfriend, she said.”
“Boyfriend? She doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
“I think she does—or, at least, Keira thinks she does. And maybe Lynn doesn’t. Maybe Keira made it all up. But here’s the thing. Keira said she somehow saw pictures of the boy’s thing that he’d sent to Lynn.”
Bryce was breathing hard into the phone. Brandy knew how hard her words must be to hear. “Go on. What else?” His words were terse, and she could feel rage beginning to boil underneath.
“Keira’s very worried you and Geri will find out about it. And she’s worried her sister will hate her for telling me. Heck, I think they’ll all hate me now. I can’t say why, but I believe her, Bryce. I don’t know her or your family, but I just get the impression she’s not lying. She didn’t say it like a joke. She trusted me with that reveal and then quickly tried to backpedal it. I guess that’s what makes me believe her. Do you understand?”
“I don’t want to. I wish you’d said anything else but that. I wish you’d told me my kids did something to you or the baby or said something mean. Any of those things I could take. But this—” His voice trailed off, and Brandy’s heart plummeted to the floor.
“Like I said in the beginning, I didn’t want to make this call, but I thought I had to. Both Tucker and I thought you should know so you could check it out on your own. I pray it’s all wrong, and it’s just been a horrible misunderstanding.”
“Keira never lies,” Bryce whispered.
> “Oh Bryce. I’m so sorry.”
“No, you did the right thing. As much as a part of me hates you for this, it was the right thing. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look you or Tucker in the eyes again.”
“But maybe it’s not—”
“I had a funny feeling when all these text messages kept coming in, but I thought it was girls at school. Some of those girls can be a little wild. She wants to fit in. God, I hope she didn’t feel pressured or—”
“Is there anything I can do? Please tell Geri she can call me. I’ll see her anytime she wants.”
“No, I’ve got to get hold of Geri, and then we’ll get that damned phone and see for ourselves.”
“If you feel it’s appropriate, if you discover it’s the truth, please tell Keira, if you want to—from me—that she’s very brave. If you think it’s appropriate.”
“Thanks, Brandy. This is the last thing I wanted to do today, but Geri and I will talk, and I’ll let you know, if you want.”
“Oh, please. I hope I’m just having a good old-fashioned postpartum emotional meltdown. Honest.”
“I’ll bet. But you did the right thing. Tell Tucker you did the right thing. We’ll investigate and probably get the police involved.”
Brandy felt drained after the phone call. She sat in stunned silence, not even wanting to go outside to water the garden. Her heart ached. Her arms and legs felt heavy. She hated to trouble Tucker while on his mission and wished she’d been strong enough to make the call without his advice. But they always shared everything with each other. That was just the way they did things. She hoped that Geri and Bryce discovered it was some prank played by one of Lynn’s girlfriends at school, but even that wasn’t right.
She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes. She tried to feel Tucker’s arms around her.
And then the baby cried and washed away all the pain.
Chapter 11
The team had been issued used packs so they wouldn’t draw attention. Just about every one of them was different, and some even looked like used children’s school bookbags. Fredo’s was more like a full tool bag, since he was tasked with bringing some small flash bombs, which he had strict instructions not to use, Invisios so each group could communicate with one another, and some tiny tracking devices with super glue sticky backs. These would be issued as needed. He also had wire cutters, both copper and aluminum wire and a tiny chain link bolt cutter Fredo and Coop were enamored with.
“Where the hell did you get these?”
Stuart Bonilla, one of the team who met them first at the house, answered, “I bought that in the Ukraine last summer. Very handy. Even works in freezing temperatures.”
“I’ve seen those. Very useful,” Sven Tolar offered.
State had hired twenty-five-year-old Bonilla, a crack radio guy, from smack dab in the middle of Ohio, borrowing him from one of their intelligence contractors. Stuart had spent quite a bit of time in eastern Africa growing up doing mission projects sponsored by his church. He had relatives who ran a mission school for girls in Benin, so he was familiar with many of the eastern dialects from Benin and Nigeria, and he spoke fluent Spanish and Portuguese.
Stuart showed them how to work the hairnet device, to track and capture cell phone signals so he and some of their brothers in Virginia could trace not only where the cell phone was traveling but what numbers it called. It was no bigger than a pack of cigarettes or a cell phone battery. He demonstrated how it worked with his own cleared cell, showing how it tracked a call he made in front of them to Gibson’s cell.
“Now it will tell us who Gibson calls and so forth.”
“Is there a way of masking this so the cell can’t be picked up?” Tucker asked, examining the little black box.
“Not unless it uses something other than WiFi or Satellite. If it sends or receives a signal, it will pick it up.”
“Short wave?”
Stuart wiggled his outstretched fingers to show that it was wonky. “Problem with that is that we know the signal is sent, but the bandwidth of anyone who receives it is too broad. Kind of useless. We want portal-to-portal signals. That’s what we track.”
“You must get a lot of data to cull through,” remarked Gibson.
“We have computers upstairs that filter what we want. Yes, at the end of an hour or two, the screen looks like a spider’s web. We look for patterns and movement, not actual conversations. That’s not to say Fredo here won’t be helping us out with some listening devices. Most of the smaller ones I’ve given him won’t detect all the way up here, but we couldn’t chance all this clunky equipment getting discovered. Plus, it’s not very portable, so you’ll only listen in when we have to. Great for hostage negotiations.”
Tucker didn’t like the sounds of that.
“You have to be worried about accidentally detonating a bomb?” asked Cooper.
“Yes, we do. Therefore, we don’t send out a signal unless the bad guy is carrying something we want to detonate before he gets it placed. In that event, it can be kind of a weapon too. You want to make sure you don’t do that, okay? It also makes you visible if other guys have some form of cell tracking.”
“And what are the odds of that?” asked Tucker.
“In the states, with high-level drug dealers, they’re very wise. They use burners and switch out SIM cards all the time, so you lose the trail. Mob crews in Europe and Asia do too. We’re thinking we have a leg up here. They might know about them, but they haven’t grown in their business acumen, so to speak. We got a tech advantage, gents.”
It was obvious to Tucker that Stuart was rather proud of his equipment.
“You three carry these very close to your body, and only take them out when you use them. And you better bring them back.”
Gibson asked that each man put a shirt and water into their pack, not their wallet. “Take something to jot down notes and a pen. Some sunscreen and whatever personal items you need. Make it look legit. No firepower. Sorry. Your weapons stay here.”
Several of the Team grumbled, mouthing words like feeling naked without their favorite sidearm. Gibson wasn’t making any exceptions.
“We’re going in a little cold. You get caught and have a piece, you’re probably going to be out for the rest of the mission, maybe longer. Just not worth it.”
“I’m taking my slingshot.”
Gibson didn’t know Danny’s story and gave a whimsical look. “Whatever.”
Tucker was going to bring his NV binoculars.
After lunch, everyone readied themselves for the daytrip.
“Keys are in the vehicles, boys,” one of Stuart’s men blurted out. “Have fun and be careful out there.”
Tucker ran for the Jeep before anyone else could claim it. The house had come with five other older-model cars and two pickups, all designed to help the men blend into the local population. The cover they’d designed is that they were firefighters from different jurisdictions in California, all friends, who decided to take vacation days to assist the island’s population in the cleanup and recovery efforts. They were helping a friend tear down an apartment building. It was meant to look like an impulsive, self-funded operation to steer away from the concern they were connected to any government entity or had military background.
That would also leave things open for a little barhopping and making inquiries. And as firefighters, they wouldn’t be expected to get too heavily involved in drinking and doing drugs but might get introduced to some things on a limited scale, recreationally.
In other words, they were going to pose as heroes with somewhat tarnished halos, who didn’t want to cause trouble and lose their livelihoods back home. And they wouldn’t be expected to know everything about the island like a frequent tourist or local would.
Calvin Cooper eyed the Jeep longingly. “Only for today, Tucker. Then you can have this old thing tomorrow.”
Coop’s mode of transportation was going to be a wine-colored 4-door pickup import that was mis
sing the front bumper and had one tire that had been spray-painted green, for some reason. The front bench seat was ripped and could give anyone in shorts a nasty cut.
Tucker gave him the finger. “I rather think that suits you.”
Two squads were to stay back at the motel, which included Lt. Commander Gibson, so he handed Coop another portable “hairnet” with the admonition, “Don’t you lose it, Coop or you’ll be walking.”
“And that would be worse. Come on, Coop, let’s beat them down the hill,” said Armando as he jumped in the front passenger’s side.
DeWayne Huggles did an adequate job of nearly filling the entire second seat. Through the open window, he banged on the roof with the palm of his hand. “We go!”
Off they went, in a cloud of smoke.
Tucker swore that he’d let them get ahead of him and, with Sven and T.J., sped out the driveway, spewing flakes of ash in their wake.
Fredo and Danny took another older dark blue semi-compact with a large rubbed-out circle on the hood where someone had unsuccessfully tried to wax the vehicle with the wrong product. As they turned around, Jameson jumped in behind them, along with Jack Gridley.
Tucker was working like Hell to catch up to Coop’s truck, but when he spun out on one of the gradual turns with a downward slope, he lost traction, which caused him to fan the brakes carefully until he slowed. He squeezed and let go his grip on the steering wheel until he felt more comfortable with the vehicle. He could feel T.J.’s eyes on him, but no one said a word.
“You see who got the sat phone?” T.J. asked him.
“That would be Jack,” answered Sven.
The others stayed behind.
Coop got out first to punch in the code, and as the gate opened, Tucker’s Jeep was able to slip by him and take over the lead.
Sven put his hand on Tucker’s shoulder. “They have horses here, sometimes in the brush. Be careful, my friend.”
“Good to know,” Tucker said, as he slipped his sunglasses down from his scalp. “T.J., see if you can find some country music, will ya?”
SEALed Protection (Bone Frog Brotherhood Book 5) Page 7