by Lori Wilde
Marlie waited on top of the bunker, Mace can cocked in her hand, finger on the button ready to fire off a round the minute the assassin came running from the bunker.
A minute passed. Then two.
Just when she was beginning to think her plan had failed, that the water in the bunker had doused her smoke bomb, the assassin came tumbling out along with a trail of thick smoke.
Geronimo!
She dropped down onto his shoulders. He fell to his knees in the sand. She shoved the Mace nozzle in his face and fired.
He screamed, whacking at her with his free hand, struggling to keep hold of his gun in the other.
But Marlie was determined. “Try to kill me, willya,” she hollered and unloaded another squirt of Mace on him.
The assassin staggered to his feet, still trying to dislodge her from his shoulders. He tried to point his gun at her, but she squeezed his neck tight with her thighs, attempting to cut off his blood supply. He wobbled, wavering.
“Marlie, I’ve got him. Jump off,” Joel yelled.
She turned her head, saw the most splendid sight in the world. Joel, coming to help her.
He took the guy down at the knees at the same time Marlie leaped from his shoulders. The assassin’s gun flew out of his hand and spun across the sand. He and Joel grappled in hand-to-hand combat.
Marlie started for the gunman’s weapon, but at that moment, another person came out of the bunker.
She froze in her tracks. Unable to believe her eyes.
It could not be.
And yet it was.
“Daddy?” Marlie whispered, wondering if he was a mirage, if she was dreaming or hallucinating or all three.
Nodding, her father spread both arms open wide.
All those years of wishing and hoping and praying that he wasn’t really dead fell away, and she lived a miracle. Through her comic book, she’d taken a leap of faith, declared her deepest wish—that her father was still alive—and it had come to pass. Secretly, deep inside, she had never stopped believing that the impossible was possible.
She flung herself into his embrace.
“Baby girl, baby girl, baby girl,” he murmured over and over, crushing her against his chest, smelling her hair, raining joyful kisses over her face, hugging her with all the love he had to give.
She clung to him as wave after wave of emotion washed over her. Sadness, awe, confusion, breathtaking joy. She quivered against him. She burrowed her face in the curve of his neck the way she had as a child.
Behind her, Joel and the gunman struggled on, but in Marlie’s world everything was perfect. “You’re alive. Daddy, you’re alive.”
Joel let out a cry of pain, but before Marlie and her father could look to see what was happening, the assassin screamed in outrage. “No! You cannot have a happy ending. I don’t get a happy ending; you don’t get a happy ending.”
There was a loud popping sound, and a blinding white pain shattered through Marlie’s back. The impact took her breath away. Blood trickled down her shoulder, hot and sticky.
Her head whirled. God, it hurt so bad. Nobody ever told her getting shot could hurt so badly. She gritted her teeth, fighting off the pain, fighting to hold on.
“Marlie,” her father gasped. “Don’t die. You can’t die.”
He cradled her in his arms, tears streaming down his face as he patted her hair. Her heart thumped. Her back burned. Her vision blurred.
“Daddy,” she whispered, “I love you, always.”
And then she spoke no more.
The sound of an intercom paging Dr. Jones to the cardiac cath lab tugged at Marlie’s consciousness. She smelled the odd combination of antiseptic and powdered eggs. She heard the clank of metal dishes, the squeak of rubber-soled shoes against linoleum. The mattress underneath her was stiff and unyielding. When she moved, the plastic cover crinkled noisily. And oh, yeah, there was definitely an undesirable draft in the back of her nightgown.
She was in the hospital, and she had no idea how she’d gotten here. The last thing she remembered was looking up into her father’s eyes as he begged her not to die.
Daddy? Had she dreamed it all?
By degrees, she pried her eyes open and looked up into the concerned faces of her mother and father. They sat in side-by-side chairs, perched just inches from her bed, tightly holding hands.
Marlie smiled and smiled and smiled in spite of the dull pain just under her right shoulder blade where she’d taken a bullet. It felt so good to see her parents together again. Her heart lub-dubbed, rich in iambic pentameter. Early morning sunlight streamed through the east window. Bright yellow sunlight. New and fresh and dazzling.
Everything had changed. Her world had color again. It had hope.
And love?
She lifted her head off the pillow, glancing around the hospital room, looking for Joel. She didn’t see him. The movement exacerbated the pain in her back and she slumped back against the pillow.
“Joel?” His name was the first thing she said, and it came out in a croak. Her throat was as dry and scratchy as if it had been scrubbed by sandpaper.
Where was he? Her euphoria slipped. Had he been shot as well? Was he . . . ?
“He’s all right,” her mother said. “He’s been by your side ever since the shooting. Hasn’t left to eat or sleep, but Gus was going in for a cardiac catheterization, and Joel felt he should be there after the doctors moved you out of ICU and assured him you were stable. He’ll be back.”
“How is Joel’s father doing?” It was hard thinking kindly of Gus Hunter after years of believing he was her father’s murderer, but she would try. For Joel’s sake.
“Gus did have a heart attack. They’re doing the heart procedure to find out how much damage and to learn if he’s got clogged arteries that might require surgery.”
“I’m sorry to hear about that.”
“Gus has been worried about you too,” her father said. “He feels responsible for what happened.”
“What did happen after I got shot?”
Her father told her everything that had transpired, ending with, “Joel tackled Abel, and let’s just say that it was very lucky for poor Johnson that Special Agent Dobbs and his NCIS team showed up when they did. Otherwise, Joel would have killed him,” Daniel said. Admiration tinged his voice.
Marlie’s head felt stuffy, her brain slowed by medication, but goose bumps crept over her skin at the impact of her father’s words. Joel was her hero. Ready to kill for her if need be. “NCIS was at the scene?”
Her father nodded. “They’ve been on the investigation since I called and told them I would turn myself in if they opened a full-fledged investigation of the Mohawk missiles and assigned Joel to watch you twenty-four/seven.”
“You’re the one who requested me for the assignment,” Joel spoke from the doorway.
Joel!
Marlie sat upright in bed, ignoring her dizzy-headedness. She had to see him. Had to get a good look in those amazing gray-blue-green eyes.
“Yes,” her father said to Joel. “Once Marlie’s comic book came out, I knew I had to do something to protect my family. NCIS had their stipulations too. In exchange for my testimony, they wanted to keep Marlie out in the open and let things play out with Herkle and Delaney. Nobody knew about Abel Johnson of course. The only way I would agree to it was if they assigned you to the case. You took damned good care of her when you were ten. I knew you wouldn’t let anything happen to her. You’re a real hero.”
Tough, macho Joel looked downright embarrassed. “Thank you for your vote of confidence, sir, but I was only doing my job.”
Only doing his job?
“Oh, so I’m just a duty to you, J. J.?” Marlie challenged.
“That’s not what I meant . . . I . . .”
“Sewed yourself up tight in that one, son.” Her father winked at him and got to his feet. He held a hand out to her mother. “Come on, darlin’, let me take you to breakfast.”
After her parents
left, Joel perched on the edge of the bed. “I really didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Your dad just embarrassed me, calling me a hero. I’m no hero; I just wanted to protect you and I failed.”
“You didn’t fail.”
“You got shot.”
“I’m still alive.”
“I was terrified you were going to die.”
She saw the truth of his fear in his eyes. “I didn’t.”
“Thank you for not dying.”
“You’re welcome.”
They looked at each other a little warily. Not sure what to do next.
“We haven’t talked since you found out I betrayed you,” he said at last. He shifted awkwardly and cleared his throat.
“No, we haven’t.”
“I should have told you before we made love.” Joel looked miserable, confused and afraid. “It wasn’t fair of me.”
“Yes, you should have.” She didn’t make it any easier on him. A tiny part of her was still a little angry. She deserved an explanation and an apology.
“I knew you had a hard time trusting people, and I also knew you were forced into a situation where you had to trust me. It was my job to take advantage of that and I did.”
She said nothing, just watched his face, saw how much he was struggling with his conscience, with the choices he’d been forced to make.
“You have no idea how hard it was for me. I’m a good soldier, or at least I was.” His laugh was harsh, not amused. “I did what I was told. Everything was black and white. You either followed orders or you didn’t. There was no in between, no middle ground, no gray areas.”
Marlie brought her hand to her mouth, rubbed her fingers over her lips. She felt a great settling inside her. Her life too had been about black and white. Outside world bad, family good. She’d left no room in her heart for other people and places and things beyond the familiar. But her world had changed. People were people. Some good, some bad. Sometimes they let you down, but sometimes they far exceeded your expectations.
“My assignment to spy on you struck me wrong on a personal level, but it was my assignment. Professionally, I did what I had to do and yes, I lied to you and I’m sorry. I did what I was told. That is, until your mother’s bungalow burned down and they found Herkle’s body inside. Dobbs ordered me to bring you in at that point, but I refused. You have no idea how much I struggled with the decision. But in the end, Marlie, I turned my back on my job and I followed my instincts. I did what I thought was best for you.”
Marlie’s bottom lip quivered. He was torturing himself over her. She could no longer keep a stone face. She forgave him for violating her trust. She understood fierce loyalty. She didn’t give it lightly, but once she’d given someone her loyalty, they had it for life. Joel had given his loyalty to his country in the same way she’d given her loyalty to him. How could she punish him for that?
“Please, Marlie, forgive me for deceiving you. It’s been eating at my soul.” He got down on one knee beside the bed and peered deeply into her face. He looked so woeful, she almost laughed. “I don’t want to lose you over this, Ladybug. I’ll spend the rest of my days proving that you can trust me.”
“You already have.” She held out her arms to him and wrapped him in her embrace.
His shoulders sagged and a sigh of relief left his lips.
“There’s no blame,” she whispered. “Only forgiveness.”
He held her lightly, not wanting to hurt her, she knew, and sweetly kissed her lips. Then he eased her back down on the pillow and took a step back.
“I’ve got something for you,” he said.
“You brought me a present?” She perked up. “Is it another dress?”
“I’m afraid it’s not a dress, but I’m hoping you like it as much.” He pulled something from his shirt pocket and dropped it into her upraised palm.
“What’s this?” It was a baseball card, yellowed with age. “You’re giving me an old baseball card?”
“Not just any old baseball card.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“Gus gave it to me. He’d stuck some of my childhood keepsakes in the same envelope with the Desert Storm file.”
“So this is top-security stuff,” she teased.
“Of the highest level.” He grinned back.
Marlie studied the ballplayer on the front. A catcher for the Texas Rangers, Joel’s favorite team, circa 1985. “What’s so special about Jim Sundberg?”
“It’s not Jim Sundberg that’s so special, but the reason I saved his card.”
“Why’s that?”
“Flip it over and find out.”
She turned the card over and there, written in a childish scrawl with a felt-tip marker below Jim Sundberg’s faded stats, were the words: Maybe I can give Marlie a shot so she won’t have girl cooties.
“I knew it,” she whispered. “I knew you were lying when I kissed you when you were ten and you said you’d have to get a vaccination for girl cooties. Admit it. You loved me even then.”
He took Jim Sundberg out of her fingers and dropped him onto the nightstand. Then Joel gently stretched out on the hospital bed beside her and gathered her carefully into his arms. He softly kissed her.
“You loved me then and you love me now,” she taunted. “Admit it.”
“Well, you know what they say.”
“What do they say?”
“You only love twice. So this is it, Ladybug. I’m all you get.”
“Lucky for you, J. J. Hunter”—she cupped his cheek in her palm—“I’ve never wanted anyone else.”
EPILOGUE
Marlie was right smack-dab in the middle of getting ready for a bowling tournament when her front doorbell chimed, playing a computerized rendition of “Holding Out for a Hero,” courtesy of Cosmo.
She’d traded her glasses for contact lenses, her black track pants for crisply ironed green slacks, and her white cotton T-shirt for a fashionable pink silk top. She’d forgone the ponytail and instead had used a flat iron to tame her unruly locks.
You look elegant, trendy, and sophisticated, Angelina said. About time you started living up to your potential. Now if we could just get you to quit bowling.
“Keep your opinions to yourself,” she said as she capped her lipstick and hurried for the door.
She threw the door open without looking through the peephole. She no longer feared what was beyond the insular cocoon of her imagination. She’d learned the world was a larger, more magical, more complex place than she’d ever understood, and only through taking a leap of faith had she found her true self.
And her true love.
Who just happened to be lounging nonchalantly against the door frame, gazing at her with adoring eyes.
“Your escort has arrived,” Joel said and held out his arm. He was dressed in jeans, a red bowling shirt, and his very own bowling shoes.
Their team didn’t win the bowling trophy, but that didn’t stop the celebration. Everyone she and Joel cared about had shown up for their impromptu engagement party at the Starlight Lanes.
Penelope and Daniel cheered them on from the sidelines. Cosmo and Treeni sat sharing kisses in between bites of messy bowling-alley nachos. Gus bounced Joel’s half sister, Amy, on his knee, dutifully drinking apple juice instead of beer. Mel was bowling on their team, as was his brother Kelvin, who’d provided the bowling balls for Marlie’s flash mob. Even NCIS Special Agent Dobbs had shown up, as had several of Joel’s Navy buddies.
“Your friends are a sexy lot,” Marlie whispered to Joel. “No wonder women go gaga over SEALs. Talk about hot.”
“Hey, hey,” he said. “No ogling my buddies in front of me.”
“Oh, come on, babe.” She wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned into him. “You know you’re the hottest of them all.”
“Hear that, guys?” Joel hollered to his friends. “My lady thinks I’m hotter than all of you combined.”
“Darn you, J. J.” Marlie blushed, embarrassed. “You didn
’t have to tell them that.”
“The wee thing has to say such nonsense to ya, Hunter; it’s your ring that’s on her finger,” teased Donovan Stewart, a burly SEAL of Scottish descent.
“If she thinks you’re the hottest, then obviously she’s never seen you naked,” joked Rob Jacoby, another SEAL.
“You’ve got to remember,” Dobbs pointed out, joining in the fray. “It’s not been that long since she got shot. Still on the pain medication, Marlie?”
“I can’t get any respect around here,” Joel grumbled, pretending to be miffed.
“Certainly not with that bowling score,” Treeni piped up.
“Okay,” Joel said. “Who wants to bowl for it? First one to get a strike is the hottest guy in the place.”
In an instant all the competitive Navy SEALs were picking up bowling balls and selecting a lane, with Cosmo joining in.
“You’re going down, Hunter,” Cosmo said. “I’ve been bowling since I was five.”
“Twenty says J. J.’s gonna take it,” Gus called out, and then the bets started flying.
“I’ll take that action,” Dobbs said. “My money’s on the Scot.”
“Anyone who bets against Cosmo is crazy,” Treeni said confidently.
Blanketed in a warm, comfortable glow of happiness, Marlie watched her husband-to-be tease with their family and friends. In that glorious moment, she felt as if she’d finally come home after a long, arduous journey, finally integrating into the person she was always meant to be.
Six weeks had passed since Marlie had been reunited with her father. Six weeks since she’d accepted that she and Angelina were one and the same. Six weeks since she’d fallen hopelessly in love with the grown-up version of J. J. Hunter, finishing the process they’d started all those many years ago.
A lot had happened in those six weeks. Her parents had renewed their wedding vows and gone on a second honeymoon. After recovering from his heart attack, Gus had come forward and told the entire story of Robert Herkle and Chet Delaney’s conspiracy to hide the truth about the Mohawk missiles. Citing his culpability in the cover-up, Gus relinquished his position at the Pentagon. No charges were brought against him and he officially retired from the Navy. The Mohawks in Iraq had been located and safely destroyed along with the missiles on Padre Island. Abel Johnson was in jail, pending his murder trial for killing Robert Herkle.