“You expect me to believe that she floated over here? By what? Magic?”
John skid to a halt near Max’s bed. Alex was lying with her wounded side up and her body around Max’s body. Trish rushed to Alex and began assessing her condition.
“I ordered them to be together.” Used to being in charge, Patrick had no problem stepping in front of John. “They cannot survive without each other.”
“Who let you in here?” the ICU doctor asked. “Where the hell is security?”
Two steely-eyed Marines stepped out from behind the bed. They gave the doctor a level stare.
“Did you do this?” the doctor asked.
The Marines did not respond. John joined Trish at Alex’s side. She had disconnected her IV but not torn it out.
“You have no authority over them,” Patrick said.
“Ask them,” the doctor commanded.
“Report,” Patrick gave the strong, one-word command.
“The Lieutenant Colonel crawled in here on her own volition, General,” one Marine said.
“I told you,” Patrick said.
“You expect me to believe that after major surgery and blood loss that could only be remedied with cord blood, the Lieutenant Colonel walked over here and got into this bed?” the ICU doctor said. “I’m not a fool.”
“Then stop acting like one,” Eloisa looked him up and down and went to the bed.
“We are not responsible for what you believe or do not believe, sir,” the second Marine said. “We are reporting what happened.”
“We are only responsible for the protection of Lieutenant Colonel Hargreaves and Maxwell Hargreaves,” the first Marine said.
“They cannot be together,” the ICU doctor said. “Maxwell Hargreaves is too weak.”
“He’s not now,” Eloisa said.
The doctors, nurses, and Patrick turned to look at Max’s heart rate and metabolic monitor. Max’s heart was beating stronger, and his blood pressure was near normal.
“Lieutenant Colonel Hargreaves is my patient,” John said. “She appears to need a new bandage and a new . . .”
Another ICU nurse wheeled a monitor over to them. John stepped out of the way to let her work.
“She cannot be here,” the ICU doctor said.
“They’re identical twins,” Patrick said. “They cannot survive without each other. Trust me, I’ve tried it all their lives.”
“There’s no such thing as male-female identical twins,” the ICU doctor sniffed.
“Single zygotic,” John said over his shoulder.
“They look like twins to me,” Eloisa said. “These are not the first twins we’ve had in here. Now get out of the way so we can do our jobs.”
“You want me to believe that these two are . . . ,” the ICU doctor started.
Trece stepped in front of the doctor. Towering over the man, Trece’s sheer bulk caused the man to step back. Trece pulled the curtain between them.
“He can’t do that!” the ICU doctor said.
“Actually, that man can do almost anything he wants,” Patrick said. “You’d be hard pressed to find anyone who could stop him.”
John’s nurse Trish came out from behind the curtain.
“Dr. Kelly has ordered another bed,” Trish said.
“Good thinking,” Patrick said.
“If this goes south . . . ,” the ICU doctor started.
“We won’t blame you,” Patrick said.
“You’d better not,” the ICU doctor said.
“Doctor, would you mind taking a look . . . ,” a nurse came up to the ICU doctor.
She smiled at Patrick and pulled the doctor away from the beds. An orderly wheeled a bed next to Max’s bed. John, Trish, the ICU nurse, and the orderly moved Alex onto her back and into her own bed. John took Alex’s left hand and placed it next to Max’s right. Max’s fingers stretched for her fingers.
John smiled when they held hands.
“How . . . ?” Eloisa looked up at Patrick. “They are about as unconscious as a person can be.”
“I don’t ask,” Patrick said.
“I think they are one soul in two bodies,” John stepped out from behind the curtain.
“That’s what they say,” Trece said. He opened the curtain to let the nurses out and give them some room.
For a moment, Patrick and John stood back to watch.
“He’s doing a lot better,” Patrick said.
“So is she,” John said. “And Samantha?”
“She’s in a room upstairs,” Patrick said. “Wyatt’s in with her. They’re still out, but their doctors think they will both be fine. Steve’s here somewhere.”
John pointed through to the bed next to Max.
“He has a new nose and more stitches,” Patrick said.
“We were lucky to find the leaking vessel,” John said.
“Where is Josh?” Patrick asked.
John looked up to see Eloisa moving Raz’s bed. She settled it next to Alex’s bed.
“May as well keep them all together,” Eloisa said. “That way, those soldiers don’t need to be all over everywhere.”
“Captain Olivas?” John asked.
“Give me a minute,” Eloisa smiled.
White Boy helped an orderly move Troy’s bed over to the rest of them. White Boy nodded to Patrick. Trece talked with the Marines. They started moving the beds into a circle. With Alex and Max at the bottom, Steve’s bed was moved to the left of Max, with his feet near Max’s head. Leaving a space in between, they moved Raz to the opposite position, to the right of Alex’s bed. Troy’s bed took the top position in the star.
Trece, White Boy, and the Marines stood with their backs to each other in the center.
John looked from bed to bed. Blue lights bounced up and down on each monitor.
“Let’s get some rest and something to eat,” Patrick said. “Rebecca and Erin are upstairs with Sami and Wyatt. They’ll want to see these guys. We can get something to eat and be back before they want us.”
John looked at him for a moment. With a nod, he turned to go. He was almost out of sight when he turned back. For the briefest second, he could have sworn he saw the light of the Blue Fairy floating above the soldiers in the center of the circle. Her glorious blue light shone down on the ones he loved.
When he blinked, everything was back to normal. He smiled and followed Patrick out of the ICU.
F
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Thursday afternoon
November 25 – 4:19 p.m. MST
FBI Headquarters, Denver, CO
Eoin heard movement in the hallway. He got up to look through the small window in the door behind him. No one was there. Eoin sat down at the table and slumped down in his coat.
He’d been in plenty of trouble in his life. But Cian had always been there. Cian did the talking, the asking for lawyers, and the arguing for better treatment or a bathroom break. Cian was the one who had got him to go on a hunger strike on their last prison stint.
Eoin was completely and totally alone this time.
The Americans couldn’t have been nicer. It was “Right this way, sir.” “What would you like for lunch, sir?” Someone had appeared every hour to take him to the restroom. He’d spoken to his wife on the phone around noon.
All of their niceness only made Eoin that much more terrified.
He heard a sound again, and the door opened. A man came into the room with a couple of FBI agents.
“Thank you,” the man had a London accent. The man gave the FBI agents a British fuck-off smile.
The Yanks didn’t recognize the smile.
“Let us know how we can assist,” the FBI agents said.
“I will,” the man said.
The man closed the door behind the agents. He gave Eoin a long, assessing look.
“You don’t remember me,” the man said.
“I remember that you’re the scary man in Cian’s backyard,” Eoin said. “I remember that you’re our Fionn’s da
and Johnny’s step.”
Eoin nodded. The man smiled.
“Never actually heard your name,” Eoin said.
“Tom Drayson,” the man smiled. “It’s my great pleasure to meet the Eoin Mac Kinney.”
“Uh oh,” Eoin said. “MI-6?”
Tom nodded.
“Assigned to Belfast in the troubles?” Eoin asked.
Tom nodded.
“Wait a minute,” Eoin glared at Tom. “Did you kill me da?”
“You know who killed your father,” Tom said.
“How . . . ?” Eoin crossed his arms. “No, I don’t.”
“I was there,” Tom said.
“Oh,” Eoin said.
Eoin gave him an impish smile. Tom sat down in the chair across the table, and Eoin’s terror returned. Tom smiled.
“Let’s get out of here,” Tom said.
“I think not,” Eoin said. “I remember what happens to a volunteer when MI-6 comes for a chat.”
Eoin nodded. Tom laughed. Tom’s laugh was so similar to Fionn’s that Eoin smiled, and then gasped.
“Fionn!” Eoin jumped to his feet. “I didn’t even look for the boy. He . . .”
“He was with his girlfriend,” Tom said. “Hector James and Hermes are with them now.”
“Fionn has a girlfriend?” Eoin looked surprised.
Tom grinned.
“I thought he was . . . you know . . . like Max?” Eoin said.
“‘s on the DL, Da,’” Tom imitated Fionn’s rich Scottish accent.
“That’s our boy,” Eoin laughed. “We taught him that. So who is it?”
“I’ve been sworn to secrecy,” Tom said.
“You may as well tell us,” Eoin said. “The boys will.”
“They haven’t yet,” Tom smiled.
Eoin’s jaw dropped with indignation. Tom laughed.
“I’ll tell you that her father is an old friend,” Tom said. “At the time Fionn was born, I was sure I’d never see her father again.”
“He’s dating Helene!” Eoin looked so pleased that Tom laughed. “That’s brilliant!”
“I’ve said nothing,” Tom said. “Come now; let’s get out of here. We have things to talk about that would be best done in a more private setting.”
“Like Long Kesh?” Eoin sniffed with indignation at the Maze prison where he’d spent many of his formative years.
“Yes, I’m going to take you to hell,” Tom said.
“They stopped demolition!” Eoin raised an eyebrow. “I would not be the first Mac Kinney to meet his death at the hands of MI-6.”
Tom gave Eoin a long assessing look. For a moment, they were like two scarred warriors staring across a blood-soaked battleground. Tom gave Eoin a nod.
“I was thinking we could walk along the path here,” Tom said. “My son runs here a few times a week. Or so he says.”
“Fionn?” Eoin looked surprised. “I don’t know what he tells you, but between school and work, and the lad’s general sloth . . .”
“Johnny,” Tom said.
“Oh. Him,” Eoin said. “That’s different. Okay. But if something happens . . .”
“If something happens to you, Eoin Mac Kinney, I’ll not survive ‘til nightfall,” Tom smiled. “No one can protect me from Cian Kelly.”
“He’s not here.”
“He’s waiting in the lobby,” Tom said.
“Why didn’t you say so?” Eoin jumped to his feet.
Tom grinned at Eoin and tapped on the door. Eoin went out the door and waited for Tom. They walked through a maze of hallways, took two separate elevators, and were cleared through a barred door with the smug guard in the front and they were in the lobby. Cian anxiously paced back and forth in front of the door.
“Cian!” Eoin said.
The men hugged.
“Don’t say a thing,” Cian eyes shot daggers at Tom. “You know what this is?”
“He told me,” Eoin said. “But you know . . .”
Cian looked at Eoin.
“He’s Rita’s husband,” Eoin said. “You know what Rita’s like.”
Cian and Eoin’s heads turned. They gave Tom a probing look.
“I’ll tell you the whole story,” Tom said.
Cian and Eoin looked at each other for a moment before nodding.
“Good,” Tom said. “I think the path is this way.”
Cian held the door for Eoin and Tom.
“I don’t think the path’s right here,” Eoin said.
“Let’s ask,” Tom said.
Tom called out to a harried young woman. She wasn’t going to stop, but realized that she knew Eoin and Cian from the bakery. She gave them directions, and they set out on foot.
They walked along in silence until they reached the Sand Creek Greenway. They took the worn bridge over the river and turned right down a wide gravel path. The snow and ice clung to the edges of the creek.
“This is nice,” Tom’s voice held the texture of someone trying to be positive.
Cian and Eoin looked at each other for a moment, and laughed.
“It’s not home,” Tom grinned.
“What do you want from us?” Cian asked.
“Debrief, mostly,” Tom said. “Eoin did some amazing work today. I’d like to know how and why.”
“I’m not talking to you unless you tell me about my da,” Eoin said.
Eoin’s voice cracked with emotion. Cian glanced at his best friend before giving Tom a fierce look.
“Your father was my friend, Eoin,” Tom said. “He was working to end the troubles.”
“My da was no traitor,” Eoin said. “He was volunteer through and through.”
“He was,” Tom said. “During his last turn in Maze, something in him changed.”
“Mind control,” Eoin said.
“You know, I never thought of it, but it’s possible,” Tom said. “His last stint was brutal. I met him a month or so later.”
Tom fell silent. They walked along the wide gravel path. The river widened out to their right. A pair of ducks landed on the water. Tom steered them toward the creek.
“Is the water always that color?” Tom asked.
“It’s rust from the old mines,” Eoin said.
“Colin says this is an EPA Superfund site,” Cian said.
“That’s not hard to believe,” Tom said. “Any idea what that means?”
“None,” Eoin laughed.
Tom smiled. For a moment, they were just three men watching the golden water flow across the sandy bottom. Tom broke the spell by turning to Eoin.
“I think it was you, Eoin, who convinced him that the troubles had to end,” Tom said. “You were so bright, funny, and you were there, in hell. He felt guilty, but . . . All of us – me and my side, you and yours – we were dancers in a complicated play that never went anywhere and only ever ended in death.”
Eoin noticed the moisture in Tom’s eyes.
“Any idea why this river smells like shite?” Tom asked.
“It’s a pungent mixture of laundry detergent and . . .” Eoin said.
“Shite,” Cian said.
They laughed. Tom looked across the water before turning back to Eoin.
“Those words – ‘dancers in a complicated play,’ that’s what father said, Eoin,” Tom said. “When he was beaten to death, not because he had done anything, but because someone thought he might, I . . . Something in me snapped. They brought me back to London and gave me time off. I went to Scotland, to the farm where we live now. I watched sheep and wandered the hills for months. One day, I got a call. ‘The Kellys have moved to London. There’s a price on the boy’s head. Would you come and take a look?’”
Lost in his own thoughts, Tom watched the river.
“I wasn’t going to go,” Tom said. “I put in my retirement first. One last job, they said. No one else had been close enough to the PIRA to figure out what Rita and the boy were up to.”
Tom shrugged.
“So I went,” Tom said. “I w
as to pretend to be visiting from Scotland. I was to make contact, develop a rapport, and find out why Miss Rita Kelly and the child, John Kelly, were in London. I walked into the church office and . . .”
Tom gave a soft smile.
“Your sister, Cian, she was typing or really trying to type,” Tom said. “When she looked up at me, my whole life changed. She asked me something simple: ‘Can I help you?’ Or ‘What can I do for you?’ I don’t remember. I told her everything from my work in Northern Ireland to watching your father being beaten to death for no reason. You know what she said?”
Cian and Eoin shook their heads.
“Well, there’s only one thing for it,” Tom said.
“What’s that?” Eoin asked.
Tom smiled.
“That’s what I said. She said, ‘You’ll have to marry me, help me raise my Johnny, keep him safe, and live happily ever after, because so much pain and trouble deserves a happy ending.’”
“Sounds like Rita,” Cian said. “She always knew her mind.”
“That’s what I did,” Tom smiled. “Computers became the rage and they wanted me to run a team of programmers to track the troubles. We stayed in London until I reached my pension age. We moved to the farm after that – after Johnny was in the US.”
“How’d you get back in?” Cian asked.
“Two young volunteers walked into a nightclub,” Tom said.
“That sounds like a joke,” Eoin said. “What’s the rest of it?”
“He means us,” Cian said.
“Oh,” Eoin said. “What do you want to know?”
“What do you know about Neev?” Tom asked.
“Nothing,” Cian said.
“Nothing?” Tom asked.
“No really,” Eoin said. “We don’t know a thing. I thought she was programming Sami and Wyatt. Cian thought she wasn’t. I was right, by the way.”
“You didn’t speak to her about it?” Tom asked.
“No,” Cian said. “I haven’t seen her since . . . she left for the cloister. Have you?”
Cian looked at Eoin. He shook his head.
“I used to see Jack kind of regular,” Eoin said. “When we were home, in Shankill. He came in for therapy with one of the other counselors. You remember, Cian.”
Cian nodded his head.
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