Victor’s knees buckled. Cold seeped through his body, turning him into a shivering idiot that found comfort in the grass.
“It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”
He listened to himself mumble the words over and over again until he found he could no longer speak.
Chapter Seventeen
Ryker’s uneven breathing was the only company Grace had as she trailed him and Keith through the dark tunnel. The concrete walls closed in on her, too close for comfort, causing her own breath to hitch and her chest to tighten. She needed to get out of here. Away from the tension, the fear, her desperation that she’d just made the biggest mistake by distancing herself from Keith.
No, she’d done the right thing. There could be no future for her and Keith. The past would always stand between them, like a big boulder, wedging them further and further apart. She needed to put her family first. Ryker was already glomming onto Keith, looking for that solid, steady presence Mark had always provided. She didn’t want her son having his heart damaged further when Keith disappeared from their lives. And there was Becca to think of…she was part of her family too, and Grace couldn’t ignore the ramifications of bringing Keith home to meet her sister.
She bumped into something solid and blinked, the darkness disorienting her for a moment.
“Mom.” Ryker’s voice held his typical eight-year-old censure. “We’ve stopped.”
“Sorry.”
She swallowed her distress and let her eyes adjust further to the contours of the tunnel. Ahead of her, Keith kicked at a mesh access vent.
It broke free of its frame with a screech. A weak beam of light sucked away some of the darkness, enough for Grace to see Keith give them a “hold” signal before he pushed himself out of the tunnel.
She held her breath until his head dipped down from the opening.
“It’s clear.”
Hearing his voice, all clipped and business-like, made her throat squeeze off any response she could have given.
“Ready?”
She nodded and boosted Ryker through the hole. The muscles in her arms quivered from exhaustion, her body shivered from a sudden draft, and a wave of dizziness swirled dark spots in front of her eyes. Suddenly, Keith’s hand dropped in front of her face.
Grace hesitated far longer than she should’ve but still, Keith’s hand didn’t waver. He didn’t gesture impatiently, or force her out of the tunnel. He just...waited. Steady. Strong. Words she’d never have used to describe Keith a mere week ago.
She locked her grip on his hand and he helped her through the vent. But as soon as she regained her balance, he let go, putting distance between them. Though her eyes had yet to adjust to the flickering fluorescent light in the room, Keith’s presence radiated off to her left side.
He issued a soft curse and drew his gun. A long corridor stretched out in front of them in only one direction. What if it led away from the exit?
Keith motioned for her and Ryker to follow. She didn’t need to be told twice. The eerie shadows against the walls of the deserted hallway, and the thick silence were beginning to freak her out.
Sweat beaded on her forehead and she swiped at it with her clammy hand. Beside her, Ryker shivered, the shakes punctuated by a loud wheeze. Her heart skittered. God, he sounded worse. Much worse. He needed his medication. Soon.
Eventually the hallway split off to another corridor. They navigated passage after passage, Grace’s heart sinking more with every dead-end that forced them to retrace their steps until a metal ladder appeared at the end of one of the corridors, it’s rungs ascending to the ceiling.
“This has got to be it,” Keith said, relief scratching into his voice.
He clambered to the top and shoved open the trapdoor. Blessed light flooded in. She heard Keith’s relieved “yes”, and then he slid back down the ladder.
He touched Ryker’s head. “You first, buddy.”
She followed, hot on Ryker’s heels in case he lost his balance, with Keith right behind her. Ryker gasped and scrambled out of the dark, murky, space. She squinted against the bright sun. The warm breeze rippled through her wet clothing, stirring the tall, yellowed grass beneath her feet.
“We made it!” Ryker grinned, his own clothes plastered to his small body, his hair sticking in every direction, his glasses smeared and askew.
They’d done it. They’d made it out alive. “We sure did.” She drew in a lungful of fresh air and sought out Keith as he joined them. “Thanks.”
He tightened his jaw and nodded sharply. “We need to find a phone.”
A rocky hill rose in front of them, just one more mountain for them to climb, but even though Grace was exhausted, she didn’t mind. She slung her arm around Ryker’s shoulder and navigated the terrain.
“Where are we, mom?”
“I don’t know yet, sweetie.”
At the top of the hill, a gray, three-story brick building cast a long shadow on the grass. She shaded her eyes with her hand and followed the line of the structure to the roof. Along the roofline HÓSPITAL was blocked out in blue letters.
HÓSPITAL? Where they in Mexico?
“Keith?”
He shook his head, his focus intent on something other than the building. Something that blocked the dirt road ahead.
Grace caught up to him, but wished she hadn’t when she realized the dark form was not a pile of debris, but a man.
A dead man.
She staggered back a step and immediately grabbed for Ryker to shield him from the sight. “Don’t look,” she whispered, pressing him behind her.
But, she couldn’t take her own advice. Her gaze froze on the dead man’s face. An uneasy familiarity, stirring bile in her throat. “He looks...do I know—”
“Victor Longenbow,” Keith practically spat the name.
Her blood chilled. “Oh, my God. Colby’s...brother?”
“Younger brother. The son of a bitch was a superior officer. I thought he was a good soldier. Honorable. Instead, he’s been selling the country down the river from the inside.” Frustration emanated from Keith’s taut body. “Now there’s no telling what he’s sold to our enemies over the years. Or if whoever killed him will pick up right where he left off.”
She clutched Ryker to her. “What now?”
“I need to get in touch with Cam. The hospital should have a phone we can use.”
They walked to the drab brick building and pushed through the revolving door. Immediately it became apparent that this wasn’t a regular hospital. The bars on windows and doors suggested the place was more of a psychiatric institution.
Doctors and nurses scurried through the lobby along with uniformed security. Shouts of alarm echoed off the high ceilings. No one paid attention to her, Keith, or Ryker as they stepped up to the main desk.
“Excuse me?” Grace leaned on the desk to get the attention of the receptionist. She took Ryker’s hand and squeezed it gently.
The woman looked up from the notes she was scribbling on a pad of paper. “Sí?”
“I’m sorry, do you speak English?”
“Yes.” The woman’s reply was issued in a soft, heavily accented voice.
Grace grabbed a brochure from the plastic holder on the wall and studied the hospital’s address printed neatly at the bottom.
Nogales? Her heart stuttered. The border town was Mexico’s main port of entry.
Keith read the address over her shoulder. “Ma’am, we need to use your phone. It’s an emergency.”
The receptionist sighed. “You’ll have to get in line. We have our own emergency right now and our circuits are jammed with calls right now.”
Grace scanned the lobby. As a group of nurses ran past, one caught her eye. The woman’s black hair fell in disarray from her cap. The unique shade of her violet eyes stood out in her ashen and haggard face. She clutched what looked like a man’s jacket to her chest.
Her nametag peeped out from the corner of her uniform. Elizabeth. She slowed, separat
ing from the group, and stared at Grace with far too much interest.
“What’s going on?”
The nurse jumped at Grace’s question. Her eyes widened and she shook her head, running to catch up with the others.
The squawk of a walkie-talkie bleated from the belt of a security officer. He yanked it free and spoke into it in rapid Spanish.
“What happened here?” Keith asked.
The receptionist hesitated. “We have a...Code Red.”
Grace frowned. “What does that mean?”
The woman bit her lip. “It means a patient’s escaped from the hospital.”
Keith stepped outside and was immediately blinded by the orange fireball that hung low in the sky. Beside him, Grace and Ryker squinted into the setting sun. They’d waited an hour to use the phone, and now Keith could finally hear the faint whir of a helicopter in the distance.
Keith shaded his eyes with his hand and scanned the open field. A brief smile twisted his lips as a dark helicopter came into view. It bee-lined for them and then hovered briefly in the air above their heads, sunlight glinting off the Army insignia stamped on the side.
“Mom, what’s going on?” Ryker asked.
Grace smiled and touched her son’s shoulder. “We’re going home.”
The chopper touched down on the grass, the noise of the rotating blades nearly swallowing her reply. The hatch slid to the side and Cam appeared in the opening. His bright blue geometric print shirt and Ray Ban sunglasses made an amusing contrast to the dull Army green of the helicopter.
He strode in their direction and Keith noticed his gait was more awkward than it had been several days ago.
“The Calvary has arrived,” Cam shouted over the noise.
Keith smirked. “Late. As usual.”
Cam spread his arms wide, his lips twisted into a cocky grin. “Better late than never, as my Mama always used to say.” He turned his full attention to Ryker. “Well. You must be Commander Ryker.”
“Yes, I’m Ryker. How did you know?”
“How did I know?” A brow arched above Cam’s sunglasses. “Everyone knows about you.”
Ryker tipped his head, surprise lighting his eyes and dropping his jaw. “They do?”
“Of course. Hey, you ever seen the inside of a helo before?”
Ryker shook his head.
“I bet our pilot wouldn’t mind showing you around. His name is Blueduck.”
“You mean it? Can I, Mom?”
Grace tipped her head. “Are you sure it’s okay?”
“The guys won’t mind.” He knelt and looked Ryker in the eye. “But first you gotta go see Doc PigPen and let him take a look at you.”
Grace ruffled Ryker’s hair. “Can I go with him?”
“Of course.” Cam squeezed Grace’s hand. “Don’t worry, Pigpen is the real deal. He looks a little...rough, but he knows what he’s doing. He has Ryker’s meds.”
Grace shot Cam a genuine smile that socked Keith in the throat. “I wasn’t worried,” Grace said.
Keith’s throat tightened. She wasn’t worried. Why could she trust Cam completely and still think the worst of him?
As soon as Ryker and Grace moved out of earshot, Cam’s smile disappeared. He reached up and removed the sunglasses from his face. His blue eyes turned serious, his mouth tightened with strain.
He glanced at Keith. “What’s the situation?”
“There’s a dead man back there. You’ll recognize the bastard as Captain Longenbow. He’s been smuggling illegal aliens, drugs, weapons, government secrets and God knows what else all from the comfort of his nice, cushy military desk. The missile components as well as their security codes were his latest, and I believe also his last, deal. I have no idea who currently has the components, but it’s clear that he planned to disappear after he’d tied up all his loose ends.”
Cam’s brow rose. “You kill him?”
“No. And now that’s he’s dead, I’ve lost my chance to get more out of him. Like the location of the missile components.”
He watched as Grace boosted Ryker into the chopper and then swung herself up into the bird. He didn’t regret his decision to go after Grace and Ryker instead of interrogating the bastard. It might mean an end to his career; his fate was in the hands of the judge advocate general now. “I had to make sure Grace and Ryker got out of that hell hole safely first.”
Cam locked him in an impassive stare. “Understood. But, at what cost to your career, Keith?”
He rolled his shoulders. “It was necessary. Let’s board the chopper and get the hell out of here.”
Cam cleared his throat. “Uh...before we board the helo, I have to tell you...” He dragged a lock of his shaggy brown hair off his forehead.
He grit his teeth. A muscle thumped in his cheek. “Cam. Just spit it out.”
“The thing is...I needed some back-up. A chopper. Some of the guys...” Cam squared his shoulders. “I...uh...had to turn you in.”
Keith huffed out a laugh. “You’re shittin’ me.”
“I’d never shit the King.” A hint of smile returned to the corner of Cam’s eyes. “The Army was more than willing to cooperate for a rescue mission, provided the MP’s were on hand to bring you in.”
Keith shrugged. “Not a problem. I planned to turn myself in. The XO needs to know what’s going on, and it’s past time I get back to base and deal with this court martial. I’m more than ready.” He clapped Cam on the shoulder as he passed. “Thanks, buddy.”
“Keith.”
Keith pivoted at Cam’s hesitant tone and arched a brow. “Is there more?”
Cam rubbed his jaw. “The XO is coming here, with your counsel to debrief you and Grace.”
“Even better,” Keith said as he headed toward the chopper.
“Uh...Keith?”
He stopped, crossed his arms. “What now?”
“Well...you know...I can drive a hard bargain of my own, so even though the MP’s are here now...I...I made a deal that they’d give you the rest of the day to...,” he shot a worried frown at the chopper, “You know...take care of some things.”
Keith brows drew into a thunderous expression. “What things?”
Cam waved the question aside. “I just think that you and Grace have some, um, unresolved issues—and maybe I’m way off base, but I think you like her.”
“So?”
“So, you should let her know. Get it all out in the open tonight.”
Keith tightened his jaw. “What, are you my therapist?”
Cam glanced at his t-shirt. “Do I look like Dr. Phil?” He shrugged. “I’m not saying you should take her to bed or anything, unless, of course, you’ve already—you haven’t, have you?” He waved his hand through the air. “Anyway, I’ve booked rooms for you, Grace and Ryker at The Pointe. After what you’ve all been through you have the right to stay in a five star hotel.”
No way. A luxurious hotel—even with Grace and him having separate rooms, and her son to chaperone—was not a good idea. They’d existed on only adrenaline for far too long. Coming down off that high was bound to make them do stupid things.
“That’s not necessary. Let’s just get this over with.”
“The debriefing will start early in the morning and it’ll probably take a while. You’ll stomach it better if you get some rest. Besides, both you and Grace need to be there. Together.”
“Yeah, I get it, Cam. Thanks.”
He stalked off to the chopper before Cam could impart any more of his useless Dr. Phil advice.
All we have left is the Presidential Suite.
The manager’s words rang in Keith’s ears as he fit the key into room 1012’s lock with all the enthusiasm of a Private assigned to clean the latrines. Apparently, the hotel somehow double booked their reservations and gave his and Grace’s nice separate rooms to someone else.
The door clicked open. Beside him, Grace tensed, one hand on Ryker’s shoulder, the other clutching a shopping back that Cam had given her.
Keith jerked on the handle and the door swung wide, revealing a large room done in gold and brown tones, two dark leather couches, a flat screen TV and a wet bar. He stepped inside and saw a set of doors on either side of the room leading to separate bedrooms.
Grace blew out a relieved breath, which brought a reluctant smile to his lips. The Presidential Suite was large enough to stay well out of Grace’s way.
She wasted no time in doing just that and moved to opposite sides of the room.
“Oh, look,” Grace set the shopping bag on the mahogany table and peered inside. “Cam gave us clothes and toiletries. How thoughtful.”
“Yeah, Cam’s a thoughtful guy all right.” He flicked on the lights above the wet bar and studied the contents of the cabinets.
“This place is cool!” Ryker raced past him and pounced on one of the leather couches, his glasses sliding past his nose. He pushed them back in place with a yawn.
“Cool or not, it’s time you got to bed.” Grace pulled a pair of Spongebob pajamas from the bags on the table and held them up to Ryker.
He came forward to grab them and Grace snatched him into her arms. She tickled his ribs. Her heart shone in her eyes as she reveled in having her son back safe and sound. Ryker shrieked, dodging her hands, and giggling so hard Keith doubted the boy could even squeak a word out if he wanted to.
She tossed the pajama bottoms lightly over Ryker’s head. “Go get dressed, goofy.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Ryker shuffled to the bathroom, the legs of the pajamas dangling down his back.
Keith’s stomach fisted. Envy burned in his gut. The guys in his A-team talked about their wives and children with such love and longing. Keith had always listened, but never understood.
He did now.
Ryker came out of the bathroom sporting his new pajamas and Grace steered him toward her bedroom. “Okay, Ry. It’s time for bed.”
Ryker yawned loudly. “But, I’m not sleepy.”
“Oh, no, not much. Come on, tiger, let’s go.”
Keith prepared to escape to his room, but Ryker’s next words rooted him to the spot.
“Would it be all right if Keith tucked me in tonight?”
Her Own Best Enemy (The Remnants, Book 1) Page 21