Oh, she definitely couldn’t promise not to mouth off. “If I’m cuffed and coherent I get to be a smartass.”
Jack marched around her, grabbing her arms and yanking them behind her back. “You don’t get to be anything except well-behaved. Understand?” he snarled.
Caroline closed her eyes. She could find some way to concentrate on the task at hand. If she was cuffed during or after transport, she could focus on keeping her shoulders limber. On minimizing aches and pains. She tensed her arms, seeing if that would bring relief.
“Understand?” Jack repeated.
She could find her safe place. Jack was the one yanking her arms but Jack was also safe. She could think of good Jack. Doting Jack. Loving Jack.
“Yes,” she said clearly.
“Good.” He spun her around, releasing her arms. “How was that?”
“I kind of want to kiss you right now,” Caroline said.
Jack laughed. “Even I think that's a little fucked up.”
“I can't help it.”
He leaned in. “I suppose I can take one for the team.”
A long, toe-curling embrace was all she needed to rejuvenate herself. “Can we practice again?”
He took her hand, guiding her toward the bedroom. “Later,” he said. “Much, much later.”
*****
Sweet, romantic, affectionate sex was a welcome distraction from the trials Caroline still had to face. But it wasn’t enough. When she was in Jack’s arms her worries vanished. But as soon as post-coital bliss faded she’d be back where she started, with that bizarre sense of doom she couldn’t quite put a finger on. The secrets she had yet to share.
Santos knew about her time in The Hague. Murdock knew about it. Her family and friends knew about it. But they had never heard the whole story. It wasn’t until she realized every bit of her testimony – every goddamn word – would be subject to disclosure that she succumbed to a full-on panic attack.
She knew it was counterproductive. She’d conquered her fear of having her arms pinched behind her back. She’d learned to channel her anger and rage into constructive thought patterns, into routines designed to keep her alert and aware once she met Santos face to face. He wouldn’t ask her to turn herself in and potentially face his version of justice without seeing her in person. His ego wouldn’t tolerate anything less than taking on the task himself, which was what their allies were counting on. His obsessions would ensure his defeat, so they hoped.
Caroline had to face the prospect, however miniscule, that she might not make it out of the White House alive. The secret that demonstrated who she really was had to be revealed. Natalie and Christine didn’t waver when she asked them to come over for dinner. It was an expected invitation, but they didn’t expect to be dining with her and Jack alone. Marguerite and Sophie had retired for the night. A convenient coincidence. Caroline didn’t want them in the apartment to witness her hypocrisy.
She wasn’t sure how to play it. Should she keep her physical distance, careful not to get too close to anyone, both metaphorically and literally? Would it help to be near someone? Would they recoil in fear, frown in disappointment, snap in anger? Jack, Christine, and Natalie were good people. Honest. Decent. How would they be able to tolerate her once they discovered what she’d done at The Fed?
Christine and Natalie sat on the couch, leaving her no choice but to plop in between them. Jack took the chair across from them. They made some post-dinner small talk but Caroline remained quiet, the echoes of their words growing louder and louder in her head. The inanity perplexed her. Nothing was normal but they did their best to pretend it was, and she could no longer stand it. Christine was in the middle of a random anecdote when Caroline interrupted her.
“I have to tell you something before I lose my nerve.”
Christine shifted on the couch. “What is it?”
Did she sound as paranoid and unstable as she felt? Would she ramble? She no longer cared. “I need to tell you before you find out from someone else. In case I don’t-”
Jack stood up, reaching for her. “Caroline-”
They could talk about a lot of things but they would be damned if they discussed the possibility of her not coming back from Washington. “I need to tell you this. But you have to promise you won’t hate me.”
Natalie touched her knee. “Caroline-”
She couldn’t keep her cool. Not when they all thought she was making a big deal out of nothing. “Promise me!”
Christine placed a hand on her shoulder. “Punky, there is nothing you could say that would make any of us hate you.”
The movement toward her. The slight physical touches. They were trying to reassure her and it wasn’t working. “This might.”
Christine met her eyes. “This is about what happened at The Fed.”
“Yes,” Caroline whispered. “I had to talk about it in The Hague. No one else knows. Not you, or Jack, or Natalie. It’s bad. And I don’t-” Her voice broke. “I don’t want the girls to find out what a horrible person I am.”
Christine scooted closer to her. “It cannot be that bad, Caroline.”
“It is.” She wiped her eyes. “I need you to let me get this out, all right?”
Jack nodded. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”
Would he still be using terms of endearment by the time she was done? Caroline exhaled. “Natalie knows some of this but…there was a lot I didn’t tell her.” She turned to the younger woman. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t owe me any explanations,” Natalie said. “We understand why you held some details back. Keep talking.”
The therapist would guide them all. Caroline could pretend she was in a session. Maybe that would work. She could reiterate what they already knew, making it easier to transition to what they didn’t. “There were a lot of prisoners at the holding facility where I was at. A lot of people I knew. A lot of people we knew. Most of them were not in very good shape. I saw Bob a few days after I arrived. Briefly, then he was gone. But he wasn’t the only one I saw. Ellen showed up too. They put her in the cell next to mine.”
“Pure coincidence, I’m sure,” Christine murmured.
Caroline didn’t mind that she’d interrupted her. She needed a minute to process her thoughts. But she didn’t miss the glare Natalie shot toward Christine. The movement of her hands. Let her talk, she seemed to be saying. So she kept going. “I hadn’t told them anything. That drove them nuts. They knew I was holding back and wanted to sway me. The agents brought Ellen to me to try to loosen my tongue. It didn’t work so they took her away. I could hear her screaming. She was in the cell next to mine. I was begging her to calm down even though she couldn’t hear me. And then I heard the men yelling and a gun went off and…she was quiet.”
Christine brought her arms around her. “Is this okay?” she whispered, squeezing tighter when Caroline leaned in. “What happened next?”
“They-” Oh, she needed to steel herself for this one. “Ellie didn’t work, so they brought Jenny in next. And she told me they’d killed Katie. We got to talk a little, hold each other, before they took her away.” She gulped again. “I could hear her begging for mercy, crying, wailing through the walls. I was intended to hear every word.” Caroline closed her eyes. “The next day Murdock brought Jenny into my cell. They’d roughed her up really good. But she hadn’t said a damn thing.” She brought her head up. “She was my girl. Jenny was my girl.”
Christine tucked her hair behind her ear. “Of course she was. She didn’t tell them anything, did she?”
“She didn’t breathe a word. That really pissed Murdock off but it made me so proud,” Caroline said, her voice cracking. “They cuffed me to a chair, put her in a chair facing me. One of the guards pulled out his gun, put it to her temple. And Murdock – he told me to tell them what I knew or they’d kill her.” She choked back a sob. “I’m sorry, Jenny. I’m so sorry. I should have done better.”
“It’s okay, Punky,” Christine whispered. “You didn�
�t tell them anything, did you?”
“No,” she mumbled. “I tried to apologize, tried to do something to stop them but Jenny said she was ready. Told me she didn’t blame me. That she loved me. That she’d hug Katie for me.”
She put her head in her hands. She felt warmth nearby. A whiff of cologne. Jack, kneeling in front of her. Natalie, her hand on her back. Christine, whispering words of comfort.
“It’s my fault,” Caroline choked out. “I should have – I didn’t-”
“It’s all right, sweetheart.” Jack clutched her hands, kissing the top of her head. “It’s all right.”
“Sit up, Caroline,” Natalie said softly. “Please.”
Jack handed her his handkerchief, and she straightened up. She glanced at all three of them. They were crying.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you.”
Christine took the handkerchief out of her hands. “Caroline, look at me.”
I killed her. I killed Jenny. Don’t you understand that? It seemed like such a shameful act to dare to make eye contact with people who were clearly her betters, but she did anyway.
Christine wiped the tears off Caroline’s face. “What do you think they would have done if you’d cracked?”
Caroline shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, Punky. Of course you know. They would have killed her anyway. You can’t shoulder the burden of their evil acts. This was not your fault. Jen saw them for what they were. And she recognized you for who you are. You need to do the same.”
Jack brushed his thumbs against her cheeks, sweeping a few stray tears away. “Christine is right,” he said. “This isn’t your cross to bear. Jen doesn’t want you to and neither do we.”
“Do you hate me?” Caroline whispered.
“Look in my eyes,” he said. “What do you see?”
She blinked away the wetness. Took a deep breath. Looked at him. Really looked at him. “I see love.”
“Now look at Christine. At Natalie. What do you see?”
Caroline couldn’t look at them quite as long, but their expressions were the same. “I see love,” she repeated.
“That’s right,” Jack said gently. “Every person in this room loves you. Your children love you. Ellen and Jen loved you. Everyone you have ever known loves you. You’ve bottled this up for too long. Please let it go.”
“What will Mo and Feef do if they find out? I don’t want them to know.”
Jack kissed her forehead again. “Stop. When you want to tell them, you can.”
“I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”
They were all close to her. Holding her. She didn’t need to look in their eyes to know how they felt. Not anymore.
“They forced you to make a Sophie’s Choice,” Natalie said. “They did it knowing you were the kind of person it would damage the most. They played on your best qualities to make you believe they were your worst. And they are the only people to blame.”
“I miss her,” Caroline whispered. “She didn’t deserve what she got.”
“None of you did. But you are not expected to carry her load along with your own. She already told you not to. Shouldn’t you take her advice?”
Caroline took the handkerchief out of Christine’s hands, blowing her nose. “I should, but you know I won’t.”
“You got it out,” Natalie said. “Just don’t let it compromise you when you’re in a tenuous situation.”
“I feel a little better,” Caroline said.
“Good.” Christine stood up. “Natalie, why don’t we give Jack and Caroline some time alone? I think we all need to decompress.” She kissed Caroline’s cheek. “I love you, Punky. Nothing you do will ever change that.”
Natalie leaned in for a hug. “Same here. You’re stuck with us.”
Jack stood up to let them out. “Thank you both,” he said. “We’ll be fine.”
Christine patted his chest. “We know.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Five days. Four. Three. Two. Caroline’s routine was similar to when she and her unit took on the rescue mission in Nevada. Briefings. Discussions. Explanations. Dealing with hypotheticals, unanticipated issues, and the like. Similar but far more complicated, until they were down to the final day.
Caroline was to fly with an escort to Reagan National, where she would be met by officials from the Santos Administration. A fragile agreement had been struck - she was to be transferred to an unknown location, which according to their spies was the White House. Her escort would be allowed to leave. The Santos Administration had been skimpy on the details, but rebel informants had done an outstanding job of separating fact from fiction. There were still risks, though.
“A rescue team will be deployed. Our allies in Canada and Europe are already mobilizing, and have coordinated to arrive within the same sixty minute window in which Caroline is set to land,” Jack said.
“Won’t they figure it out?” Caroline asked. “What if they’re spotted while I’m en route to the White House?”
“We expect this to move quickly,” he said. “Santos isn’t going to waste any time. Remember, he’s not too keen on due process.”
His version of due process probably meant some sort of long and painful death. The Eighth Amendment wasn’t exactly holding the man back. “I know.”
“We’ll use that to our advantage. Bam – you get to the White House. Bam – our guys go in. Bam – Santos is arrested on his warrant.”
Well, that was naïve. “Santos isn’t going to willingly be taken into custody,” Caroline said.
“As long as you’re alive, collateral damage is irrelevant.” Jack pointed at one of the maps on the table. “Our forces will modify their plans as necessary, receiving the most current information from our spies. Once the spies are given the signal, they’ll flip. And Santos is ours.”
In a body bag, most likely. But they needed the distraction of Caroline or it would never work. Too bad. She would have been much happier spending the next day by the lake or in bed, instead of flying to her doom.
Jack glanced at the clock on the wall. “Time to wrap this up. We all have to prepare for tomorrow. Keith, check with the pilots. Brief our participating units. I’ll escort Commander Gerard home.”
*****
None of them talked much at dinner. Natalie and Christine excused themselves early, promising to see her off the following day. Jones, Gig, and Crunch left soon after. Marguerite and Sophie stayed behind, and the conversation started to flow again. It reminded Caroline of that last night with the four of them in the Governor’s Mansion, when they’d all squeezed themselves into the king size bed in the master bedroom, pretending to sleep. The next night…her children were gone.
Marguerite and Sophie retreated to their apartment shortly after midnight, with hard hugs and a promise to meet their mother on the runway. Caroline plodded through her evening routine. Washing her face. Laying out her clothes for the next morning. Their advisors had recommended she wear street clothes, but she refused to symbolically capitulate to a madman. She was going out wearing her service uniform. Wearing the rank she earned. Wearing her real name. Wearing a spectacular pair of uniform-appropriate heels because fuck it, Santos wasn’t taking any small pleasures away from her. And most importantly, carrying an American flag in an interior pocket along with pictures of her family.
She smoothed the jacket out, arranged the skirt, placed the tie next to the blouse. Made sure her ribbons were correctly arranged, her beret stiff and proper. It was an intricate process, and unsteady fingers didn’t help it along.
Jack stilled her hands. “That’s enough for tonight, sweetheart.” He took off his wedding ring and handed it to her. “I believe this belongs to you.”
“You want me to wear it tomorrow?”
“Please.” He ran his thumb and forefinger around the platinum band on her left hand. “I’d like this back.”
“Then what-”
“Your engagement r
ing. Your anniversary band. Wear them for me. Please?”
She swallowed hard. “Okay.”
He smiled, retrieving her jewelry from the top dresser drawer. “Good.”
She slid off the simple platinum band, replacing it with sparkling diamonds and sapphires. He placed her wedding ring on a chain, hanging it around his neck before running his finger down her cheek.
“Your turn,” he said, extending his hand. She gave him his ring, watching him place it on an identical chain. He turned her around. Swept the stray hairs away. Lifted the chain over her head before fastening the clasp and tucking it under her shirt. “There we go. I’m with you every step of the way. Remember that.”
She couldn’t take much more of this. “Jack-”
“Don’t,” he said, leading her to the bed. “We don’t have to do this now.”
Caroline looked up at him, fighting back tears. “Never forget how much I love you.”
“We promised each other we wouldn’t do this.”
He’d been agonizingly strong for the past week, but she caught the hitch in his voice. She willingly buried herself in his chest when he extended his arms. “I know.”
“We promised,” he repeated.
Caroline closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind. “I wasted so much time,” she whispered. “Why did I waste so much time when I could have spent it with you? I thought if I kept you at arm’s length it wouldn’t hurt so much to lose you.”
“Stop,” Jack said, and pressed his cheek to hers. “Not tonight.”
She sniffled. “So much time, when we first got together. When I first got here. Over the last few years. All that time I threw away. With you, and the girls, and my friends. I wasted so much goddamn time.”
“Don’t you fucking second guess your life, your choices, or who you are,” he said. “It won’t do anything except drive you crazy. This plan will work and we’ll have all the time in the world to say everything we need to say.”
He kept repeating her words, like saying them again could make them ring true. Caroline looked up at him again, her vision blurred. “You and the girls will be fine.”
Triumph (The Bellator Saga Book 6) Page 27