Eye of the Beholder

by Ingrid Weaver

  “She was upset when she left me. She appeared very concerned for your safety.”

  Flynn snorted. “She’s the reason he’s dangerous.”

  “Shut up, Flynn,” Sarah said mildly. “I like Glenna. I think she’s just what he needs.” She held up her hand. “And I’m not talking about rifle cleaning, okay?”

  “You’d better not,” Flynn said, “unless you want your uniform straightened, too.”

  Sarah smiled. “She’s the first woman besides me who has seen through you, Rafe. I’d say she’s a keeper.”

  “She’s gone,” Rafe said.

  “So? You know where she is, don’t you?” Sarah walked back to her car and opened the door. “Once the mission’s over, you can give it another try.”

  “There, you see?” Flynn raed his fingers against the form in Rafe’s pocket as Sarah drove off. “Even Mother Hen agrees with me. Mission first, woman second. Let’s go, buddy.”

  Rafe didn’t move. He recognized the concern on his friend’s face. He knew what was expected of him, but the more he tried to think like a soldier, the less he could.

  “I’ll catch up with you later, Flynn,” he said, turning back to the building they had just left. “I’ve got to make a phone call.”

  There was a bank of black pay phones in the corridor just inside the main entrance. Rafe stopped at the first and dialed the number of Glenna’s apartment. He counted five rings before the machine clicked on. He braced his hand on the wall above the phone and listened to her recorded message. Just hearing her voice helped to steady him. “Glenna, it’s me,” he said. “I…”

  That’s when it struck him. He didn’t know what to say. Should he apologize for taking her love? Well, he wasn’t sorry. He’d reveled in every second of what they’d done last night.

  Should he ask her for a date? Plan a weekend in the city with her a few weeks from now when their schedules allowed? A weekend wouldn’t be enough. Neither would a month.

  He hung up the receiver and paced down the hall, then pivoted and returned to the phone. He tried the Winston Hotel this time, in case there was another fund-raiser that Glenna was overseeing. There wasn’t, and according to the manager on duty, Glenna hadn’t been in today.

  Rafe thought of where else she could be. It took him almost twenty minutes to obtain her mother’s number, only to be informed by a snooty-sounding butler that Miss Hastings was not there. The man referred him to the army public relations office.

  Rafe dialed Glenna’s apartment again, hoping she might be there by now. As before, all he heard was the answering machine. He left a brief message, then slammed the receiver down and stared at the phone. What if she was home and simply didn’t want to talk to anyone? What if she didn’t want to talk to him?

  He couldn’t blame her. She’d bared her heart for him last night. She’d offered him her love, and he’d been too stubborn to let go of his hate.

  You didn’t hate your brother. You hated yourself.

  He turned around and dropped his head back against the wall. He had less than an hour to assemble his gear before the team did a run-through. He had to get moving if he wanted to be ready for the assault. They had to bring Juarez to justice.

  He should be pleased. This is what he thought he wanted. He should be feeling that low-level excitement he got before heading into action.

  Instead, all he wanted to do was take the fastest plane to New York and find Glenna.

  How could he have let her leave? She loved him. She believed in him.

  And if someone like Glenna could love him, then maybe he wasn’t really a monster.

  It happened gently, without warning. There in the corridor, with the fluorescent light panel overhead and the bank of pay phones beside him and the impending mission looming aheadhe last shred of scar tissue peeled away. The wound inside that hadn’t healed in sixteen years gaped wide-open, spilling out half a lifetime of guilt and self-loathing. He felt blood on his face, he heard screams on the shore. Others were safe, but John was still down there. Rafe dove one last time and stretched out his arm. Their fingertips brushed, their hands clasped together for an instant…

  Which one of them had let go first?

  He banged his head against the wall. He didn’t know. Dammit, he didn’t know. He would never know.

  But…did he have to?

  The thought was a new one. It arose slowly from the very center of the wound, no longer buried by the scars.

  He would never know for sure what happened the day his brother had died, or how deep his guilt should really be.

  Maybe…just maybe…he didn’t have to know.

  We are what we make of ourselves, Rafe.

  He hung on to Glenna’s words. If only that were true. He put his fingertips on his cheek, tracing the lines that she had touched and kissed so many times. She thought he was a good man, someone who could be loved. Someone who could love her in return.

  More than anything in this world, he wanted the chance to prove her right.

  He took a few deep breaths and straightened up. He reached for the phone. This time, he knew exactly what he was going to say.

  A door opened somewhere down the corridor. There was the sound of approaching footsteps. Major Redinger rounded the corner, a cell phone pressed to his ear. He spoke a few words, closed the phone and slipped it into his pants pocket. He was already frowning before he looked at Rafe. “What are you still doing here, Marek?”

  Rafe paused before he could complete the number. “Making a phone call, sir.”

  “You should be assembling the ordnance,” he said as he walked past.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now.”

  For the first time since he’d put on a uniform, Rafe was tempted to disobey a direct order.

  Well, why shouldn’t he be tempted? After all, as Glenna had pointed out, he was human, wasn’t he? He replaced the receiver. “Major Redinger, I’d like to request a leave of absence.”

  The major stopped walking. He turned around and strode back to Rafe. “On what grounds?”

  “Personal, sir.”

  “Are you ill? You seemed to have something on your mind during the briefing.”

  “I’m fine, thanks. As a matter of fact, at this moment my mind is clearer than it has been in years.”

  “Good. Then we’ll see about arranging something after the mission.”

  “Thank you, Major.”

  “Can’t afford to lose you now, Marek.” Redinger resumed his progress toward the exit“The mission objectives have just changed.”

  Rafe fell into step beside him. “In what way?”

  “In addition to arresting Juarez, we’ll be retrieving a hostage.”

  “What happened?”

  Redinger slammed the door open with the heel of his hand. “It seems Leonardo Juarez hasn’t been in Rocama as the intelligence reports indicated. He’s been here in the States, traveling under the passport of a Nicaraguan businessman.”

  A Nicaraguan businessman? Rafe remembered the fund-raiser at Glenna’s hotel, and the man who from the back had looked so much like Juarez. He’d thought it was a false alarm, the power of suggestion. Dread settled in his belly as he followed the major outside. “Garrido. Was that the name he was using?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I saw him in New York. I didn’t follow up the pursuit because Juarez was supposed to be in Rocama.”

  “Intelligence slipped up on that one. He was there, all right. He flew out of La Guardia on a private jet at noon today, so he’s back on the island now. Along with his hostage.” The major looked at him, his jaw tight with anger. “His arrogance is unbelievable. He’s thumbing his nose at our entire country by taking her again.”

  Again?

  The dread became a vise, squeezing the breath from his body. No. Oh, God, no. No!

  He wanted to go back to yesterday, do things over, take Glenna in his arms and promise her anything and beg her to stay…

  But Rafe already knew
that you couldn’t rewrite the past, no matter how much you wanted to. “He has Glenna,” Rafe said.

  Redinger nodded. “Yes.”

  One of the guards was the same as before. Glenna could tell by the smell. It was the same as the smell that had been on the clothes she’d used. He stood in the doorway of the storeroom and used his gun to motion her forward. “Come with me.”

  She stood up and brushed the dust from her skirt. The soles of her shoes gritted across the cement floor. She was thankful she still had her shoes this time. The extra few inches of height they gave her helped to stem the rising panic.

  Oh, God, how could this be happening again? Once was enough for anyone’s lifetime.

  The guard took his cigarette from his mouth, blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling and shifted to one side of the doorway.

  Glenna turned sideways to get past, sucking in her breath so she wouldn’t have to touch him. She kept her chin up and refused to make eye contact as two other armed men moved on either side of her. They weren’t taking any chances that she might escape this time.

  The walk down the basement corridor was like a replay of a bad dream. But she wouldn’t permit herself to fall apart. Aside from a few minutes of terror when she’d awakened in the storeroom this morning, she’d managed to retain her control. She hahang on. Rafe would come for her. He was a soldier. That’s what he did.

  Where was he now? Was he still on the base, preparing for the assault? Or was the team already on its way?

  They would know she was here.

  She could only pray that Juarez didn’t know they were coming.

  Oh, God. It had been bad enough when she’d stood in the briefing room surrounded by maps and charts and plans. She’d been tormented by the thought of Rafe and the men she’d come to know risking their lives on the mission. Now there was no distance to numb the fear. She could hear the heavy tread of the guards’ boots and see the deadly looking rifles they carried. Delta Force was good. The best. But all it took was one stray bullet and—

  She tried to steady her thoughts by concentrating on her surroundings. How far had she walked now? Was it thirty yards? Was that what they’d put on the model? Yes, here was the first bend, just as she remembered. The floor was still level. Some of the lights on the wall had burned out. She didn’t see the junction of the corridors until they were on top of it.

  One guard put his hand on her back to guide her to the right. Glenna fought the urge to slap his hand away. She couldn’t afford to provoke these people. She knew what they were capable of. She curled her nails into her palms and counted the light fixtures.

  Juarez was in his office. He was wearing his white suit again, an affectation that might have been amusing if adopted by anyone else. But Leonardo Juarez wore whatever served his purpose. He’d worn a tuxedo the night he’d crashed the fund-raiser. He’d worn a navy-blue blazer and a striped tie yesterday when he’d stepped up to her cab as it had pulled up in front of the Winston Hotel. No one had suspected that under the cover of the blazer he had jabbed a gun into her ribs.

  “Ah, Miss Vanderhayden. How nice of you to join me.” He half rose from his chair and swept his hand toward an armchair that had been drawn up in front of his desk. “Please, sit down.”

  The pretense of civility was as disturbing now as it had been before. But this time, she didn’t want to throw up on his white vest, she wanted to spit on it.

  Her mother would be scandalized by the crude thought. Glenna was beyond caring. She’d given up living her life by her old rules.

  Her gaze went to the window. Darkness had settled over the rain forest. She had been here for more than a day now. How much longer would he keep her before he reverted to brutality? What if the mission had been postponed? She sat down in the chair he had indicated. “It’s useless to keep me hostage this way,” she said. “My government isn’t going to release your brother on my account.”

  Leather creaked as Juarez leaned back in his chair. “Now, now, no need to be modest. I had no idea how valuable an asset you were during your last visit. If I had, I would have insured your stay was more…extended. The Vanderhayden name alone opens countless locked doors, and I understand you are personal friends with several senators and congressmen.”

  “My name is Hastings.”

  He shook his head. “Lovely Glenna, I know all about you. Over the past week I’ve had very infor conversations with your colleagues.”

  She remembered how she’d thought she’d seen him talking to Abernathy in the ballroom. And hadn’t her mother mentioned that a foreign-sounding man had called the house to ask about her?

  Oh, God. The idea of how easily this…reptile had slunk into her life made her nauseous. He’d been there in New York all along. If she hadn’t gone back to Fort Bragg with Rafe, Juarez would have kidnapped her a week ago.

  “Yes, I believe your family and your powerful friends will serve my purpose splendidly,” he said. “Yet there was a more important reason I decided to extend my hospitality to you again. Your presence here will put an end to your plans to interfere with my business.”

  Glenna hung on to the arms of the chair so he wouldn’t see the sudden tremor in her hands. It sounded as if he knew about the assault that was planned. How? The mission was secret—she hadn’t told anyone what she had been doing last week, and she was positive none of the team had disclosed the information. Yet if Juarez was aware of the mission, the team would be in terrible danger. She did her best to keep her voice steady. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The mask of affability slipped. Juarez leaned forward, his face twisted into a scowl. “Do not lie to me. I have heard from several sources of your plan to build a resort on my island. That was what brought you to my attention once more and took me to New York. I will not allow these plans to proceed.”

  She hid her relief. He was talking about the tourist resort, that was all. “This is a beautiful island,” she said.

  “It’s only natural that I’d regard it as a business opportunity. But if you’re opposed to the idea, I’ll certainly reconsider.”

  He snatched the flat silver case from his desk and took out a cigarette. The ritual of lighting it seemed to calm him. He drew his mouth into a circle and pushed out a ring of smoke with his tongue. “You will have no choice, lovely Glenna. You are completely at my mercy. There will be no Delta Force Frankenstein to help you this time.”

  He’d used the same word before. He’d had Rafe struck. Oh, God. He was an animal.

  The phone on his desk suddenly buzzed. “Ah, right on schedule,” he said, reaching for the receiver. “It appears your government knows better than to keep me waiting.”

  The call was almost identical to the one a month ago. The demands. The ultimatum. Juarez’s repulsive pawing as he held the phone out to Glenna.

  But this time, she recognized the voice at the other end. It was Sarah Fox.

  “The hostage is alive.”

  Sarah’s words crackled through Rafe’s ear piece over the drone of the plane’s engines. He stared straight ahead, no change in his expression. But inside his chest, his lungs had started to work once more.

  Redinger’s voice came next. The question was brief. “Location?”

  “The target told her what to say. She remarked once to him it was juslike last time.”

  Rafe tongued the transmitter that linked him to the team. “She was giving us a message,” he said. “They were in the office at the compound.”

  To her credit, Sarah didn’t question his statement. She would know that Glenna was a bright woman and would be doing everything she could to convey information. “She might not be there now,” Sarah said. “We couldn’t keep him on the line.”

  “We proceed as planned,” Redinger said. “Two minutes to drop point.”

  The light over the hatch glowed dull red. The twelve black-clad members of the Eagle Squadron assault team who waited in the hold fitted their night vision and breathing apparatus over their
faces and began their final equipment check.

  Rafe tapped a button on the device that was strapped to his left forearm. The computer screen showed a green grid that correlated each man’s signal with the satellite positioning system that would guide them to the compound. Next he checked his rifle and his backup pistol. Then the extra magazines in his pockets, the sheathed knife on his calf, the rope and the grenades on his belt…he was a walking arsenal. Good to go. Ready to rock and roll.

  Except for one thing. He activated the transmitter again. He knew Sarah would be monitoring the frequency until the mission concluded. “How did she sound?” he asked.

  There was a brief delay before the answer came. “Scared, but hanging on.”

  Rafe pulled on his gloves and clenched his fists. Yes, Glenna would be hanging on. She was a fighter. Just look how she’d fought for his heart.

  He’d thought he’d known what a nightmare was, yet the past twenty-four hours had been a special kind of hell. Regrets were pointless, but that didn’t stop him from having them. He’d made countless bargains with fate and with God as he’d prayed for Glenna’s safety.

  And in case the higher powers needed help, he had thrown every ounce of his energy into the preparations for this mission. He’d done his job ten times over and then gone on to do everyone else’s, getting in their faces until Redinger had needed to haul him aside. But the major had known better than to pull him out. The way Rafe was feeling, even without his gear, he was the deadliest weapon they had.

  They had to find her and get her out. Unharmed. There was no margin for error. Juarez was going to do everything possible to make sure she didn’t escape again.

  Damn, he couldn’t think about that now. He had to focus on the mission. It was the most important one of his life.

  Someone tapped on his helmet. He glanced across the hold. Flynn gave him a thumbs-up. Beside him sat Chief Esposito. He looked at Rafe and silently did the same. So did Redinger, Norton and Lang. One by one, each man on the team gave Rafe the same sign of support.

  Glenna had made twelve friends during her stay at the base. It wasn’t only because of her relationship to Rafe that these men considered her one of their own.