by Krista Wolf
“Ah, now see?” Markus grinned. “That’s better. I knew we’d all be friends.”
“Markus—”
“For starters, you’ll pull back the rest of the moles you’ve embedded in the company. I found two of them right off the bat last week, but I know you’ve got more.”
The old man said nothing. I thought I saw him nod though, almost imperceptibly.
“Good. Next, you’ll cancel all current contracts with Di Spatia. And I mean everything, Colonel. This includes the ones on paper, and the ones off the record.”
The Colonel frowned again, and Markus let out a happy sigh. The lines in his face were all but gone now. He looked like a totally different man.
“I’ll leave the rest to Briggs,” Markus finished. “He’ll tell you what else needs to get done. But this ends our relationship together. If I see or hear from you — or even any of your men — ever again? Well… Let’s just say treason, as you know, is punishable by death.”
Goddard’s expression was grave. He kept fidgeting, like he was trying to do something with his hands. But no matter what position he put them in, it just didn’t seem comfortable.
“Congratulations on your retirement, Colonel,” Jason spoke up again.
“M—My what?”
“You’ll announce that tomorrow,” said Jason. “Six weeks. That’s all you’re getting. Six weeks to wrap up whatever other hideous corruption you’ve got going on. And it better be all cleaned up, Colonel. If I see something, if I hear something…
“If we smell even the slightest hint that you’re still operating after that?” Ryan jumped in. “This file goes straight to every officer’s desk in all the time it would take you to shit yourself.”
Silence. Dead silence.
“Maybe quicker,” Kyle shrugged.
On the other side of the screen, Goddard physically shuddered. He tried to hide it, but I could see it with my own eyes.
“I hate that we’re letting you off,” snarled Jason. “I hate that we’re giving you this one chance to bow out and disappear. If it weren’t for the things you’ve involved Markus in, you’d already be in shackles. But I want you to know something, Goddard. I want you to be very fucking aware of it…”
Jason leaned in. His voice dripped with such deadly venom, Goddard actually shrank back from the screen.
“If you ever, ever show up on anyone’s radar again,” Jason spat, “this little get-out-of-jail-free card is permanently revoked. Hell, maybe we’ll do that anyway, sometime down the road. Just for the hell of it.”
Goddard coughed. “You would’n—”
“Oh yes,” Jason assured him. “We would. For the rest of your life, I want you live in fear of the MP’s knocking down your door.”
“Or maybe worse,” Dakota chimed in. “Maybe I’ll be at your door.”
Jason sneered. “Bradley won’t knock either,” he added coldly. “Will you Bradley?”
“Fuck no,” replied Dakota. “I’m not one for knockin’.”
Another long moment went by. In the end it was six people staring down one little old man. An old man who seemed to be shrinking away from the hateful, withering looks.
“O—Okay.”
It was a single word. A simple word. But it was all that was really needed.
Jason cocked his head. “Okay what?”
“Okay, I understand,” Goddard said mechanically. “Everything you said. Six weeks. The whole thing — all of it.”
Grimly, Jason nodded. He turned to the others, and they nodded as well. Finally his gaze went to Markus.
“Want the honors?”
Markus sneered and leaned forward again. He stared into the camera, hovering one finger over the button that would kill the connection.
“Colonel?”
Goddard had been looking down, into his lap. He raised his head one last time.
“Fuck off.”
Fifty-Four
DAKOTA
I found her out by the lake, in her favorite spot. Down between the gnarled trunk of the ancient willow, and the small embankment reaching out over the water.
“Hey…”
Sammara smiled up at me before I reached her. She did have good ears. Good lots of things, really. But her hearing was especially uncanny.
“Can I sit?”
“Of course!”
The teak bench creaked under my weight. Probably because it had been made for her, and not me. But also because Kyle had built it… and he wasn’t much of an carpenter. At least, not yet.
“You good?”
“Better than good,” Sammara grinned. She lifted her ass and inched close enough to me that our legs touched. “Ecstatic actually.”
There was a lot to be ecstatic about. Colonel Goddard was history. He’d followed through on his retirement announcement, and four other members of Di Spatia — his, presumably — had disappeared without a word, into the night. Briggs was back in full control of the company. He’d even found himself a co-captain… Markus Ladrone.
Second chances and all that.
It had been shortly after the video chat with Goddard that Markus eventually came clean to Briggs about how they’d settle up. In essence, he wanted back in. He wanted a part of his old mercenary company back, even if it meant starting from scratch.
He’d actually asked for a deputyship. Briggs had steadfastly refused. When Markus got angry all over again, Briggs cracked a smile before he could break out laughing. Then the two of them went for a long walk…
… and Markus came back to Di Spatia on equal footing.
In way it was win-win. The company got to benefit from Markus’s years of experience, and he brought back the veterans that were loyal to him. Briggs — not to mention the rest of us — got some much needed R&R. Especially since running the company by himself had proved to be more than just a full-time job.
Making Markus co-captain was something Briggs figured the other three of us would oppose vehemently. He was actually surprised when we didn’t.
“You think Kyle and Ryan are okay with Jason’s decision?” Sammara asked suddenly.
She had the uncanny ability to pluck things out of my mind, no matter what I’d been thinking of at the time. It was almost like a gift.
“Yes and no.”
She turned to me quizzically.
“I mean no, as far as being able to trust Markus fully. He burned us. He burned others, too. And he almost hurt you…”
I took her hand reassuringly, but it was much warmer than mine. If anything, I was reassuring myself.
“But yeah, I get what you meant about second chances now. And I think Briggs does too. He wouldn’t have even considered it if he thought differently, even for a second.”
“True.”
“And Markus did stick his neck out for us,” I pointed out. “Twice, in fact.”
Sammara turned to look back over the lake. She seemed happy enough. But I could tell something was still bothering her.
“What is it?” I asked.
She shook her head. Told me it was nothing.
“Listen, I came down here with a little bit of good news.”
At that her smile returned. And she had the best, most genuine smile. The kind that somehow lit up your soul.
“What’s that?”
“I just got off the phone with my parents,” I said. “And they want us down in the summer. The both of us, together.”
She looked skeptical. “Really?”
“Yup.”
“And who asked?”
I smiled proudly. “My momma.”
Her smile grew wider. Her face lit up even more.
“Seriously?”
“Totally. She asked specifically for you to come.” I looked back at her and shook my head. “I don’t know what you did while we were down there, but you must’ve made some impression.”
Sammara wiggled even closer and squeezed my hand. “I have my ways.”
“And whatever you said to my daddy…”
“Is
between me and him,” Sammara cut in quickly. “You have one hell of a father, Dakota. He’s a smart man. A great man.”
I chuckled. “And thankfully the only man on the planet with any influence over my momma.”
Sammara batted her eyes prettily. “That too.”
She leaned into me and my arm slid around her. It was a happy moment. A perfect moment. And yet…
“Dakota, I…”
Tears came. They streamed down her face from out of nowhere, dropping into her lap, flowing freely as I grabbed both hands in astonishment.
“Sammara! What is it?”
“I… I’ve been avoiding something,” she sobbed.
“Tell me!”
“I’ve been afraid…” she sniffed. “So afraid to find out—”
I crushed her against my chest, drowning out the rest of her sentence. Whatever it was, whatever was causing her pain like this, I wanted to obliterate it. To drive it instantly away, or take it from her, or—
“There’s… There’s…” She choked back a fresh round of tears. “I think there’s something wrong with me…”
I looked up quickly, scanning desperately for Kyle, or Ryan, or Briggs. I wanted their help. I wanted to fix things immediately.
“Dakota?”
I turned back to grab her by the face. Probably a little too hard, because it smushed her cheeks together.
She looked adorable anyway.
“Whatever it is,” I said. “Well fix it. I swear we’ll fix it.”
She sniffed. Slowly she nodded.
“Sammara…” I said, letting go of her face. “Please. Just tell me.”
And then she did.
Fifty-Five
SAMMARA
The leather-bound room that served as Doctor Hill’s office seemed smaller than last time. And that was probably because all five of us were in it.
Chairs had been brought in for everyone, this time at the doctor’s insistence. The receptionists had been helpful, scrambling to accommodate us, but I could also see the curiosity in their eyes.
“Please, sit.”
Though Jason and Kyle had taken seats at my side, Dakota and Ryan were still standing. Maybe they were just nervous. But there was no way they were more nervous than me.
Doctor Hill smiled amiably as he took his big leather chair. Behind his diminutive head lay the vast bulletin board of photos; newborns and toddlers, spread out on either side of him. I saw images of babies crying, babies sleeping, babies laughing. Parents, holding their children, grinning down at me. Mocking me, and my situation…
Sammara, stop!
For some reason I just couldn’t look away. I kept on staring at the collage as the doctor sifted through my file. I swore the whole thing looked bigger than before.
“Okay,” said Doctor Hill, his eyes shifting from man to man. “Before we begin Ms. Madsen, I want to make one-hundred percent sure it’s okay to share the results with—”
“Yes,” I said quickly. “With all of them.” Then I added: “Please.”
The doctor nodded. “Very well. So I have the results of your Hysterosalpingogram.”
“Her what?” asked Jason.
“Her HSG,” the doctor said politely. “Her dye test.”
“Oh.”
This is it…
The Filipino man squinted down at a single piece of paper. A piece of paper that could radically alter the course of my life.
“Unfortunately, the X-rays indicate a blockage. For both ovaries, I’m afraid.”
My heart, which felt like it was already hammering its way out of my chest, now felt like it had stopped altogether. A cold numbness crept over me, consuming me completely, taking me over.
I recognized it as despair.
“What does that mean?” Dakota demanded, his voice fraught with concern.
“Yeah doc,” said Ryan. “What do you mean by—”
“It means her fallopian tubes,” he turned to face me, “or rather, your fallopian tubes, are obstructed.”
Kyle squeezed my hand. I suddenly wanted him to squeeze it so hard he’d break my fingers, just to distract me from the emotional pain.
“Obstructed?”
“Obstructed, yes,” Doctor Hill went on. “Partially, or perhaps blocked altogether. Or in some cases the tubes are just formed too small. Too narrow to allow the passage of the egg.”
No egg…
I wanted to die. To just shrivel up and crawl my way into a corner of the room, and be left alone by everyone.
“So… what do we do?” asked Dakota. “How do we fix it?”
He was always the optimist, always looking for the most positive solution. It was just as his father said.
Only in some cases there was no solution.
“Not much we can do,” sighed Doctor Hill. “The tubes are the tubes. They’re very delicate, and scar easily. Any sort of repair on already-narrow tubes could increase the possibility of—
“There has to be something,” Ryan demanded loudly. I cringed at the outburst. He’d come dangerously close to pounding a fist on the doctor’s desk.
The little old man only shook his head. “I’m afraid not,” he said sympathetically. His sympathy was genuine too, and that was the worst part. I almost wanted him to be condescending, or placating, or pitying. That I could understand. That would make me angry, and anger was something I could work with.
“However…” the doctor said carefully, “there’s also good news.”
The knot in my throat stopped constricting in the span of a microsecond. But it still didn’t loosen.
“The rest of your HSG results are perfect,” the doctor continued. “Your uterus, the shape of your womb — that’s all normal. Better than normal, actually.” The man smiled warmly. “You have the perfect incubator to carry babies.”
I sat in stunned silence, unable to speak. Completely without the ability to comprehend what any of his words meant.
“I don’t get it,” said Kyle. “You just said she can’t have children.”
“Oh no,” Doctor Hill amended quickly. “I never said anything like that! I only said the tubes are blocked. The eggs can’t—”
“If the eggs can’t reach the sperm,” Jason interjected, “then how—”
“I was getting to that.”
I felt warm now, almost like I had a fever. It was the extreme opposite of what I was feeling before.
I didn’t know which was worse.
“You’re the absolute perfect candidate for In Vitro Fertilization,” the doctor said, staring back at me across the mahogany desk.
My heart skipped the next two beats. “I—IVF?”
“Yes,” he smiled. “Ms. Madsen, you’re the healthiest patient I’ve seen all year. You eat right, you exercise, your blood tests are immaculate. And you have, excuse me for saying it this way, one of the most perfect wombs I’ve ever seen.”
“IVF?” I repeated. I was still processing.
The doctor nodded. “You give yourself a series of hormone injections for a few months,” he said. “Then we harvest your eggs through a simple procedure, and pair them with—”
“And she can get pregnant this way?” Ryan asked, his voice hopeful.
“Oh yes,” the doctor smiled. “I’m certain of it.”
Jason squinted. “How certain?”
The doctor took off his glasses and cleaned them. “Hmmm.. I’d say… eighty to eighty-five percent chance per try?”
“Per try?” asked Kyle. “And how often can she… try?”
“Every other cycle. Sixty day intervals.”
The words struck me an almost physical blow. Eighty five percent? Every other cycle?
I was still shaking all over. The doctor noticed it and leaned forward to comfort me. I could see oceans of kindness in his eyes. The same kindness I was sure he’d extended to his other patients as well.
“Ms. Madsen, most women who come in here have problems staying pregnant. Their body chemistry is off, or their uterine str
ucture is inconsistent with maintaining a healthy pregnancy. You don’t have that problem. And that’s a very good thing.”
I stared back at him blankly. But now there was a flutter of hope in my stomach, fighting its way out.
“In some cases the problem lies with the man, too,” the doctor went on. “Although in your case the sperm… samples…,” he paused, glancing from Ryan to Jason, from Dakota to Kyle, “we received from your potential donors all exhibited healthy counts and motility.” He flipped through a few more pages. “In some cases, even above average levels.”
Dakota suddenly looked interested. “Above average?” he asked, squinting down at the desk. “Which one was—”
“Either way,” Doctor Hill went on, “we’re getting you pregnant. And I don’t normally say that because I don’t like to give false hope, but yours is a best-case scenario and—”
I jumped out of my chair so quickly it startled everyone in the room. In all the time it took to blink I was hugging the man — hugging him across the huge expanse of his desk. Squeezing him against my shoulder while tears of happiness ran down my cheeks.
“Thank you…” I sobbed.
“It’s okay,” the little man laughed awkwardly. But there was nothing awkward in the way he hugged me back. “It’s going to be okay…”
It took a moment to settle back down, to realize the magnitude of what just happened. My four beautiful fiancés were smiling. Not just smiling, but grinning uncontrollably.
“When you harvest her eggs…” Jason was saying. “You can separate them out? Pair them with different—”
Doctor Hill already knew where he was going. He folded his slender hands on the table and nodded. “Yes.”
“And what happens to—”
“The embryos?”
All four guys nodded at once.
“They’re left to grow for five days, and the healthiest ones weeded out,” said the doctor. “Then comes implantation — in your case no more than one or two eggs at a time — and the rest of the embryos are kept frozen for future use.”
Dakota looked hesitant as he spoke. “So… uh…”
“Spit it out, Mr. Bradley,” the doctor smiled. “I have a feeling I know what you’re asking.”