He went to his small safe and opened it. He moved the ring box and took out the small manila envelope containing the drive. What were they doing on that computer? This may hold all the answers.
He plugged it in the computer and said a silent prayer that it’s long and tumultuous journey hadn’t rendered it useless. He knew Kira had been doing research with bugs or a virus. What he couldn’t figure out is how in the hell that landed her at a drug lord’s house.
The computer began to access the files. It worked! There were multiple folders. Some of them contained medical research. He opened folder after folder of data. It seemed to be mostly case studies and in vitro/in vivo experiments, whatever that meant. You would have to be a scientist or a doctor to make sense of this shit. He noticed a familiar logo on some of the reports. He knew he had seen that before. Was this what Kira was going through? Was this why they needed her? He hoped to God she wasn’t working with them.
He opened another file and his blood ran cold. He could tell by the line of ppppppppppppppppppppppp and the auto save stamp that this is the last file she had been in. He knew now why the logo on the reports was familiar. He fucking owned it.
The blood boiled in his stomach and his veins turned to ice. Through his drug induced fog, he sat staring at the last thing Kira saw before he shot her. The parent company for the little Biotech company that she was trying to research was Anderson Stark Technologies. Stark closed the laptop and rolled back. His entire body was numb.
He was a complete fucking failure. He had failed his friends, his love, and his family. Without saying a word, he made his bed. He took care to make sure each line and crease was perfect. Using an extension gripper, they gave him he struggled to make sure each shoe was lined up perfectly. His dress inspection would be flawless. He could hear Colin urging him to come home. Soon Buddy. I’m almost there.
He wrote Paige a letter. He needed her to know she would be taken care of and ask her to watch out for his guys. He could serve them far better in death than he ever could in this life.
Stark opened the safe and took out Colin’s watch. Carefully, he put on the Casio. Would it keep ticking this last time?
He pulled out the ring box and opened it up. The light had gone out of the flawless sapphire that had once held all his hopes and dreams. He closed it and tucked it in the pocket of his hoodie. He would carry it with him into hell.
Stark rolled into the hall, waved off Jamie, and promised to go to the Amputee Center. As soon as he reached the elevator he knew better. As the doors closed he saw Colin staring back at him. He was a failure and he knew it. He wasn’t going to any therapy. The other people in the car seemed to fade away, and when the doors opened it was into a long dark hallway. He rolled past the ghosts of the living. Maybe he was the ghost, invisible to those on the other side of the glass.
He wheeled toward the parking garage. He knew what he did. He knew this was all his fault and there was no going back. As he rolled up the ramps people were getting in their cars. The echoes in the garage took him back to buildings they had cleared in Afghanistan and Iraq. Homes, complexes they had to clear … sometimes people got in the way … innocent people. Fuck. You never want to hurt an innocent. Fuck. His hands trembled as he pushed up the ramp with all his might. His soul ached for relief.
A car backfired and he was back in that Defender 90 in Peru. He could hear Colin calling in a report. It was his job to keep them safe. It was his job to keep the enforcers back. He never saw it coming. By the time he saw the flash, they were already in the air.
Stark wheeled up to the top level of the garage. It had mostly cleared for the night. Darkness encased him as he looked out at the stars. He remembered the vehicle flying through the air. He could see the grim look on Colin’s face, the last time he would see him alive. He saw Kira, helpless and lifeless. The water closed in around them. Stark closed his eyes. He had never been more alone.
He watched the last car driving away. He knew if he thought he was ever getting out of the place, he was the butt of his own joke. He was never getting out of there. The hail of bullets came down all around him. He could hear the buzz of the 50 cal raining fear into the enforcers. This was the life he knew. This was the death row he called normal.
Civilian life was not a place he was welcome. Three piece suits and dinner parties were for men with degrees and a narrow view of the world. They had their perfect wives and wicked mistresses. It was not a place for a man who had walked in hell, taking life and watching it fade from people’s eyes. He would never be able to sit and listen to the bullshit.
All his friends walked the same dark path. They lived and died for each other. They didn’t fear hell because they walked in its dark shadows and found it wanting.
He pictured Kira in her cookie cutter life. Why wouldn’t she turn her back on me? As soon as her memory came back fully she would know he was responsible for all of it. This was a new level of torture. The fucking loneliness was worse than any measure of pain. He was done with all this shit. He rolled to the edge of the concrete barrier. He had left a letter for Paige in his room. He would make sure she was taken care of. He had already spoken to his accountant and his lawyer to look after Colin's mom. There was nothing left to do. The night air cooled his tear stained cheeks.
Somebody save me. There is too much pain. Just another soldier lost, a casualty of war. I can’t go on. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring box. He opened it up and took out the delicate jewel. What am I doing here?
He had carried it next to his heart every day. The tattered case had been through the very depths of hell. That didn’t matter now. He let the beaten box fall to the abyss of darkness. He held up the sparkling fragment of his lost dreams, his broken life, to study it in the moonlight.
Save me.
But no one came.
The water was almost up to the car roof now. He looked into Colin’s eyes. He was going to do what he should have done that day. Stark hoisted himself onto the edge of the barrier. The chair rolled away. I don’t need it anymore, anyway. He watched it pick up speed, bounce off the wall, and head down the garage ramp. He turned back to the night sky, reached out and took Colin’s hand. This time he wouldn’t let go.
Paige stood at the nurse’s station tapping her foot impatiently. They had marched her tired ass all over this damn place. “What do you mean you don’t know where he is? Where is he supposed to be?” She stared at the little curly headed nurse and wished she had her crop. “Listen to me, Curly Sue, you find someone who does. Do you understand? We have been calling all day. He knew we were coming. Who is supposed to be watching him?”
Zoe was down the hall playing nice cop. Paige impatiently watched her talking politely with any nurse or orderly that would listen. She looked up at Paige, her eyes wide with worry and shook her head, “nothing.”
Where the fuck was he? She cursed that she hadn’t gotten a number for Kira, although she and Holt caught a flight that morning. So, she wouldn’t be much good now. Paige hadn’t talked to Holt in a few days. Damn it, I should have gotten to him sooner.
Miller, Taylor and Reed came down the other hall. They had been to the Amputee Center, which is where he was supposed to be before Shirley Fucking Temple lost him.
The team flew out with Paige when Stark didn’t return their calls. She had hoped he was just sulking, but now she was really fucking worried.
“Has anyone seen him?” she asked, trying to keep the panic under control.
“No,” Taylor said, shaking his head, “we should have come on out.”
“You need to let us in his room right now,” Paige demanded.
“He’s not in there. I’m telling you the last I saw him he took his meds and left for therapy,” Jamie exclaimed.
“With all due respect ma’am,” Reed stepped in, “open the door.”
The nurse opened the door to his room. Everything was in order. His shoes were lined up perfectly, bed made, with a single envelope on his desk.
“Paige, you need to see this,” Miller called out, not even trying to hide the alarm in his voice.
Paige crossed the room like a vexed queen, passing the team, Zoe, and the horrified nurse to pick up the letter. She held it up and closed her eyes. It was addressed only, “Paige.”
She took a deep breath and began to read:
My Dearest Paige,
I want you to know I love you each dearly and it is out of that love that I want to set you free from the burden I have become. I watch men, once strong men, reduced to shells of their former glory. I do not want to spend decades withering to my slow death. I need to take matters into my own hands while they are still under my control.
I have let you all down. Don’t mourn my passing. This is my doing, and mistakes that were made are all on me. I caused the death of Sergeant Colin through decisions I alone made. If I was a better soldier, a better leader, he would be here today.
You will be taken care of. I have set up a trust for you and Zoe so that you will not ever have to worry about finances. This, at least I can do. Please take care of my boys as they build their new team. Love Mags for me.
Life will be much easier when you no longer have to—
Paige wasn’t reading anymore. She crumpled the paper and handed it to Zoe. “Enough of this shit. Keep looking! He is here somewhere, I know it! We are wasting time. Look for places he might try to kill himself!” she commanded as her blood ran cold. Bile rose, but she fought it the hell back. Paige turned to the nurse and said, “Don't you have some kind of alarm to sound?”
Jamie’s skin turned ashen and she bolted for the nurse’s station.
“Code Adam … Code Adam … Patient is male, thirty-two years old, right leg amputee. He was last seen wearing gray sweats and a navy blue T-shirt. The announcement sounded throughout the facility.
The team spread out. Other soldiers reported to the nurse’s station and began to fan out. He had to be there.
Please don’t let us be too late.
KIRA DROVE UP the parking garage. How hard could it be to find a spot this late in the evening? Why the hell did I rent a damn car? Driving was never her specialty, but now with her recent head injury she was one step above a demolition derby driver. She should have just taken a taxi from the airport. Sad thing was, this wasn’t even the most idiotic thing she had done today.
Holt would be landing in Colorado soon. He looked lost standing in line at the airport. Kira hated herself for breaking it off with Holt this way, but she just couldn't go. No matter how much her head told her to, her heart wouldn’t let her leave Stark here to face this alone.
She could still hear his voice.
“Come with me, Kira. I know you don’t love me now. But in time …” Tears glistened in his hopeful eyes.
“Liam, I’m so sorry. I know you risked your life for me. I can never begin to repay you for staying with me all this time. You deserve someone who will love you back, a girl who will wake up in the morning whispering your name. I will never be that girl. Liam, I’m sorry.” Kira had sobbed and hugged him one more time.
He nodded and handed her a letter. “Kira, I love you. You deserve the truth. Just know that I am sorry.” He turned and walked to the plane without looking back.
She almost threw up when she opened it. It wasn’t a letter at all, but a page of a classified documents signed by Dr. Meadows. How did he get it? How long had he had it?
Kira’s heart came up into her throat and landed hard in her gut as she read. Owen Stark had saved her. He gave his leg and his best friend to get her out of that damn jungle. He gave up everything for her. Everything. It was him all the time, and now he was all alone. The realization was paralyzing. She had to get back to that hospital. Through tears she had run to the nearest car rental and took the first thing they could find.
She saw an open spot and tried to wedge the Nissan Pathfinder in it. Damn this big thing. She was never going to be able to park it in there. I might as well go all the way to the damn top. Then at least I won’t have to park next to any other cars. She cursed her poor driving ability.
She still hadn’t decided what she was going to say to Stark. He would probably kick her out again. She was prepared to sleep on the floor outside his room if she had to. Like a political protester, she was not going to go away until he was strong again.
Dr. Meadows had said there was always more to a situation than what you could see on the surface. How could I have not put that together? God, what he must be going through. The idea of him facing this alone killed her. She had to get parked and get to that room.
Ahhh shit! Kira swerved to miss a wheelchair that came crashing down the ramp toward her. She missed the chair, but slammed into a concrete pillar. Kira screamed as the airbag deployed. She sat rattled for a moment. Her head swam.
What the hell was that? Was that really a wheelchair? Where did it come from? A dazed Kira stagger-stepped out of the car. Well, there went my rental insurance. The right front fender was crumpled into the pillar.
She looked at the overturned wheelchair. Where is the occupant? Kira scanned the empty parking level. No one was in sight. “Hello?” she called. Kira started to walk in the direction it had come from. The lights on this level were dim.
“Is anyone there? Did you lose your chair?” she yelled to the empty garage. The stars were out in force, but no sign of another human. The chair could not have appeared out of thin air. She called again, “Hello? Anyone?”
Movement at the upper end of the level caught her eye. Is someone up there? She started walking in that direction. She couldn’t make out if it was a person or not. “Hey!” she yelled, and started walking faster. The dark figure moved but did not answer. This was a terrible idea. A girl alone in a dark parking lot at night. Shit, I could be killed. Maybe I should go back for help. Kira paused. She could go back to the first security point in the hospital and get someone to come with her, or at least grab her phone.
She started to turn around, but she caught another look at the wheelchair. There were no cars parked on the top. Kira got a sick feeling in her stomach. She turned back toward the figure and started walking again. As she got a little closer, she realized it was a man sitting on the ledge. Oh Shit! He had his back to her. She watched him sway back and forth. He was barely visible against the night sky in a dark hoodie. Oh God, please don’t jump. Please, for the love of God.
Twenty-two. A number that had never really meant anything to her before. Twenty-two: the number of veterans that commit suicide each day. To Kira, this had always been just a statistic. A tragedy, but what could I do? There were classes and support groups. Wasn’t that enough?
Now, watching this man sitting on the brink of devastation, she wanted to scream. Not one more. Not one freaking more! She began to run toward him.
“Sir, excuse me!” she called, desperate to get his attention. “Sir! What’s your name? Hello?” Come on feet go faster. She closed the distance between them. “Please. My name is Kira. I am a soldier too. Please!” she begged.
When she got almost to him he turned his head and looked her in the eyes. Kira’s legs turned to Jell-O. The city around them fell away … just two people, alone at the top of the world. The horns and traffic were replaced by her pulse pounding in her ears. She felt like she was out of her body looking down on the most horrific event of her life.
Kira stopped in her tracks. “Owen,” she breathed, barely able to speak.
She noticed for the first time the weight he had lost. A shell of the beautiful man he once was. At first, he said nothing, just stared at her with hollow eyes. She took a step toward him. He leaned away toward the abyss. Kira stifled a scream and froze.
“God, Owen, please … stop … just wait … Please talk to me.” Kira was panting. Bile sat in the back of her mouth trying to gag her. If I can just get him to talk. She cursed herself for not having her new cellphone on her. It lay useless in the front seat. She needed to get help. Someone, anyone, p
lease help!
“Hey. It’s me, Kira,” she started softly. “Owen, you don’t have to do this.”
“You don’t know anything about what I have to do,” his once strong voice spat, vacant, like a forgotten ruin, void of life. He turned away from her and looked out over the edge.
Shit! Shit! “I know that I love you. That’s not going to change, no matter how much you push me away.” Please let me get through. Please hear me.
“Owen Stark is already gone. He died in Peru. I'm not that man.” His cold broken voice echoed through the night. “I don't know who he is anymore.”
Kira felt him slipping away. She was going to lose him. He shifted farther away. She could see him teetering on the edge. One wrong move and he would be gone.
“Free fall,” he said quietly, “that moment when you step out of the plane and all the world falls away. For a moment, you fly.” He held his arms out as if he was going to take flight. A small shiny object fell from his hand as it went limp.
Please God! Kira pleaded desperately as she watched his body crumple. She had to do something now. In a moment of desperation, she jumped up onto the barrier and tried to grab hold of him. As she cleared the top of the concrete her toe caught a crack and she pitched forward over the edge. She reached out frantically and grazed the edge of his shirt. He was right. Through the fear, she felt the free fall. Weightless.
Their eyes locked. Stark snapped into action. The look of terror in her face jolted him awake from his suicidal haze. Even the wounded lion has one last fight in his soul. Despite his drug induced fog, the instincts of a warrior kicked in. He latched on to her with his left hand and the barrier with his right. Kira swung around and slammed into the concrete beneath him.
“What the fuck are you doing, woman?” he yelled, gripping her wrist with blanched knuckles. He would not let go. He would not fucking let go. His other hand he held firm to the concrete. Blood started to seep from the edges of his fingernails where the skin had worn in the initial impact. He would not let go. A sheen of sweat broke out on his face and palms. He held on with every ounce of rage, love and hate in his soul.
Stark Resolution (Stark Trilogy Book 3) Page 16