The Edge Of Courage

by Elaine Levine

  Instead, he’d let the war snuff his boy’s life out.

  Rocco shut off the water. He grabbed a towel and mopped his face, trying to compose himself. Now wasn’t the time to break down. His son was gone-he couldn’t undo the past. Terrorists were loose, Blade was missing, and Mandy and the team were still in danger. He had to stay present and on task. He could compartmentalize it, as he had all his feelings and desires and dreams for ten long fucking years. It was what he’d done when he’d let himself forget the truth of that day. But no matter what he told himself, that wound was raw and gaping, exposed as it was to the air and the light of day.

  Stepping to the sink, Rocco made the mistake of catching his reflection in the mirror. He swiped at the steam and looked at the visage of a man he didn’t know. Tall, lean, gaunt, eyes filled with shadows, chin covered with a few weeks’ growth of beard-a beard he no longer needed now that he knew his son was dead.

  That realization was heartbreaking. Paralyzing. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. What was there left to him?

  Nothing. Not a goddamned thing.

  He reached into a cabinet and retrieved his shaving kit. His movements were angry and jerky as he slapped shaving cream on his face, sending white foam everywhere. He reached into his kit for his razor, but it caught in a bit of netting and wouldn’t come free. He yanked at the razor’s thin handle, knowing logically that wasn’t the way to free it but unable to stop himself. He yanked and yanked, flapping the kit around, emptying its contents in a noisy clatter across the counter, but still not freeing his razor.

  Rage built within him, a fire in his bones, his being, his empty, empty soul. He wanted to pound the walls, rip the medicine cabinet off its mounting.

  Catching himself before his fury spooled out of control, he felt the ugly wash of emotion slam back into him. His legs crumpled beneath his weight, and he slumped on the floor by the cabinet, wracked by soundless sobs.

  His son was dead. His wife was dead. Their second child, still in the safety of his mother’s womb, was dead. Two beautiful, innocent children given to a pair of monsters. Gone.

  He rested his arms on his knees and bowed his head, sucking in air as he tried to calm himself. He should have died with them. He was their father. Kadisha’s husband. Though he hadn’t loved his wife, he had loved his children. He should not have lived when they didn’t.

  In every way that meant anything about being a man, he had failed his children, his wife. Himself.

  Rocco didn’t know how long he sat there. Gradually, noise of the men gathering in the living room drifted to the back of the house where he sat. He got to his feet and faced his reflection. The shaving cream had thinned and dried on his face. He rinsed it off, then wiped the counter down, and tried again.

  And when he looked at his eyes next, he saw banked anguish and determination that was raw and unbounded.

  Amir, who was one of Abdul Baseer al Jahni’s lieutenants, as Kadisha’s father had been, was here. In America. Threatening Mandy and men he’d come to think of as brothers. The bastard would die a hard and bloody death if Rocco had anything to do with it.

  He straightened the bathroom, then dressed. When he opened the door to the hallway, he stood unmoving as he looked at his future. He was hollow inside, a shell of a man. He had a choice to make. Live or die. Fight or quit. Be or stop.

  He heard Mandy laugh in the kitchen. In the middle of the hell that had become her life, she could still laugh. The guys were gathering in the living room, hungry for breakfast. They’d been up all night. Like him, they were anxious to find Blade.

  It seemed, whether he was done with life or not, it wasn’t done with him. It beckoned at the end of the hall. He knew if he accepted what it offered, he would be starting over. He would have to put the past behind him. Become a man reborn, a man who looked forward rather than backward.

  He stepped across the threshold and made the long walk down the hallway and into the kitchen. Mandy took one look at him and hurried to his side. “Rocco, what is it?”

  He ached to hold her. She didn’t resist as he pulled her against himself. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him, holding him as tightly as he held her. His arms moved across her back, one folding around her tiny waist, the other circling up to wrap around her head, pinning her to him.

  “I love you, Mandy,” he whispered against her hair. He stroked her hair. “It’s important for you to know that.”

  She pulled back and looked up at him, searching his face, his eyes. Her hands lifted to his cheeks. “I love you, Rocco.” A frown wrinkled her brow. “Are you okay?”

  He shook his head. He felt the cool track of tears on his cheeks. Zavi. His boy was dead. “No. I’m not.” He sighed. “But I think I will be.” Blade had been right-what he felt was the ghost connection of a father and his son. “I remembered, Emmy. I remembered everything.”

  Mandy studied his eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She touched the smooth skin of his jaw. “Your beard-”

  He shrugged. “I don’t need it anymore. I’m not going back after all.” He pulled her close again, then kissed her temple. “Blade’s been kidnapped.”

  She tensed in his arms. “I heard. What happened?”

  “Someone took him from his house. We have to go after him fast. I want you to be careful. This Abdul Baseer al Jahni is a bad guy-he’s rich, connected, and determined to make examples of Kit, Blade and me. If you must go outside, I will go with you. If I’m not here, take a couple of the men. You are not to be alone outside of this house, ever. They used a tranquilizer on Blade, so even if you don’t see anyone nearby, you still may not be safe. I don’t know how long it’ll take us. For Blade’s sake, I hope not long.”

  He pulled back and looked at her. “I need to know you’ll do as I ask. I hate how indefensible this property is.” He frowned down at her as he considered other options. “Maybe I should take you down to Warren or Fort Carson.”

  “I’m not leaving here. I’ll do as you ask, but I won’t be going to any safe house on a base somewhere. I don’t want to be away from you during this.”

  He leaned down and touched his lips to hers in a gentle kiss, breathing her scent, feeling the soft curves of her body. She was everything he was not: kind, gentle, strong, soft, warm. The ugliness of his life had invaded her existence, and he regretted that. She deserved be sheltered, protected, not warned and guarded, afraid to even to walk the grounds of her property.

  He straightened, then wiped his cheeks against his shoulders. “Can I help you with breakfast? I don’t know how you keep up, cooking for all of us. I need to hire some help for you.”

  “No. I’m fine. Fee’s a big help.” She frowned at him, her gaze catching on the various scrapes on his face. “How are you feeling? What did the doctor do?”

  “I feel like I tangled with a sewing machine and lost. I think he put a hundred stitches in me, here and there. And he gave me some prescriptions.”

  “Leave them on my desk. I’ll get them filled for you this morning.”

  “No you won’t. The doc said the pharmacy delivers. Get them to bring it up here. I’ll leave cash for you. And you don’t answer the door-one of the guys does it if I’m not here. Understood?”

  She smiled. “Yes. Don’t worry about me.”

  After breakfast, Rocco joined Owen, Kit and the whole team in the dining room. A topographical map of taped sheets of paper covered one end of the table, various rifles, pistols, knives, and ammo covered the other end. They were all dressed in tan, green, or black T-shirts with black jeans or tan cargo pants, Earth colors of civilian camo. All of them were strapping on holsters and knife sheathes. Owen and Max were carrying Sig Sauer 9mm pistols. Kit and the others all had Berettas. Rocco found it odd that they were handling battle maps and lethal weapons in the homey dining room of Mandy’s grandparents’ house, like revolutionaries instead of trusted associates of the U.S. government. He had only his shotgun and a hunting knife in his personal armament, but it didn’t matter. H
e knew plenty of ways to kill a man.

  He crossed his arms and looked beyond the men to Mandy. She was leaning against the doorjamb to the kitchen, watching them. He caught her gaze and held it, hoping to reassure her with a look that said this madness was temporary.

  He wished to fucking hell it was.

  Kit called him and the others over to the map. He pointed to an area about fifty miles northwest of where they currently were. Color-coded squares layered several blocks in one portion of the map.

  “This is where the Jackson’s SUV was found. These are rock formations thought to have deep crevices where a man could be stashed.” Kit looked up at the men around him. “This is the White Kingdom Brotherhood’s compound,” he said, using his finger to outline an irregular shape that surrounded the rock formations in question.

  Owen assigned teams. “Rocco, I want you and Max to stay here. Kelan, I want you to take Fee and go back to Buchanan’s house. Look for anything that would give us more information about who he was working with, others around town he might have bought, or where they stashed Blade. Val and Angel check out this sector,” he pointed to an area on the map. “Owen and I will take this area. Max has sent the coordinates to your phones. We’ve connected with state police and the U.S. Forest Service. They’ll be helping us cover the maximum area we can.”

  The men picked up their comm equipment. Rocco thought that was the end of the briefing. There was still a set of gear and a full complement of weapons, including an M16, a Beretta, the associated ammo, and a KA-BAR ankle knife on the table. He looked around, trying to see who hadn’t geared up.

  Kit nodded toward the rifle, then handed Rocco the pistol. “You said you’re still in. You might need these.”

  Rocco grinned. “Hell, yeah.” He strapped on the ankle holster, feeling like himself for the first time in months.

  When the house had settled after the men left for their assignments, Mandy headed out to the porch with two fresh cups of coffee. Rocco was standing at the edge of the steps, his hands in his pockets. He took the mug she offered.

  “Rocco, what does all of this mean for the center? Should I move it to a different town? Stop construction entirely? I expect George to come by this morning and don’t know what to tell him.”

  He touched her face, letting the velvet softness of her skin warm his palm. “I won’t let you give up your dream, but it’s too early to know what’s best to do. Tell George you can’t give him an answer yet. If you’ve become one of Amir’s targets, they will find you wherever you go. So relocating wouldn’t help. Either way, the construction can’t resume until we put an end to Amir and Abdul Baseer al Jahni.”

  Mandy bent her head and rested it against his chest. “I wish you were getting out, Rocco. I don’t want you to fight. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t care about the war or stupid skinheads or druglords. I don’t care about saving the world. I want you safe.”

  He stroked her face with his thumb and gave her a sad smile. “I do care about saving the world, from this threat at least. I’m good at what I do. So are Kit and Blade, as are the rest of Owen’s team. I hope you’ll understand we have no choice but to end this. Now.”

  Chapter 19

  Rocco filled the water and feed buckets and set them in the wagon to take down to Kitano. Worried about exposing Mandy to any threats lurking on the property, he’d refused to let her out of the house to tend to the horse. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep her inside and safe-hopefully long enough for the team to capture Amir.

  When he got halfway to Kitano’s corral, a white delivery van pulled up the driveway and parked in front of the house. There was a sign on the side of the van with the local pharmacy’s name. He watched as a man wearing a white lab coat got out of the van. Seeing him, the man lifted a hand with a white bag. Rocco waved back and continued to Kitano’s corral. He knew what was in that bag-the antibiotics and pain meds. He’d take the antibiotics, but wouldn’t touch the Vicodin. He’d worked too hard to get his head clear to mess with that stuff.

  When he returned the wagon to the toolshed after feeding Kitano, the van was gone. He walked up to the house. The dogs were outside. He looked at the porch to see if Mandy was standing in the doorway. The door was open, but no one stood there. A frisson zipped along his spine, spurring him forward. Just inside the door, Max lay on the ground, his Sig still in his hand.

  Rocco felt for a pulse even as he looked around the room. Max was alive. He didn’t see any injury. Had he been tranq’d like Blade? What the hell had happened? No furniture was disturbed. He called for Mandy, but got no answer. He ran down the hall to her room-it was empty. He checked her bathroom. Empty. He dialed her cell, then heard it ring in the kitchen.

  He cursed and looked around the room, trying to determine what might have happened. He saw the white pharmacy bag on the floor, along with the money he’d given Mandy to pay for it. She wouldn’t have just dropped everything and left with the delivery guy.

  She’d been taken.

  Max sat up and shook his head. Awake again, his mind cleared in a flash. He roared and leapt to his feet, ready for intruders. The man moved with the fluid grace of a martial arts master.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Rocco asked.

  “Chloroform. Where’s Mandy?”

  Rocco cursed. That’s why it didn’t look like there’d been a struggle-there hadn’t been. “Gone. They took her,” he told Max. “I’m going after her. They can’t be more than a few minutes ahead of me. I’ll radio Kit on my way. Call Sheriff Tate and tell him the delivery guy took Mandy. Get him to put an APB out on the van. Then look around and see if there’s anything missing, any surprises left for us. You should sweep for bugs, too.”

  Max grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Don’t go alone. Let me call one of the others back.”

  “I’m not waiting for a ride-along.”

  Rocco fired up his truck and started down the long drive, which passed between two steep hills before it met the road. He exited slowly-it was hard to see what might be waiting ahead. He didn’t expect to see the delivery van parked off to the right.

  He parked, then walked around the van. He looked in the front windows. It appeared empty, but a divider wall kept him from seeing into the back. When he opened the rear doors, he found a man lying inside, out cold. No sign of Mandy.

  He radioed Max. “Found the delivery van parked on the road in front of the drive. He switched cars. No idea what we’re looking for now. Get the paramedics up here. There’s a guy in the van, breathing but unconscious.”

  On the opposite side of the driveway, there were fresh car tracks. Looked as if someone had taken off in a hurry. Rocco circled the area, trying to see if they made a u-turn and headed back toward the town. As far as he could tell, they hadn’t.

  He got in his truck and started down the road, heading away from town, then radioed Kit. “The pharmacy delivery van was hijacked. They took Mandy and switched vehicles. Don’t know what they might be driving, but they appear to be headed west. Can’t be more than a couple minutes ahead of me. They have to be taking her to the compound. Where else would they go with her?”

  Kit hissed a curse. “No idea. I expect I’ll be hearing from Amir shortly-he never lets any good deed go unnoticed. Will let you know if I find out more.” There was a pause ripe with unspoken words. “Rocco, you okay?”

  “No. I’m fucking pissed.”

  “We’ll find her. Owen and I are starting back now. We’ll meet-up midway. You got to keep it together, bro.”

  “I will, at least until I can start pounding faces.” He signed off and hit the accelerator. The highway headed northwest, deep into the Medicine Bow Mountains. He took the sharp turns as fast as he dared, frustrated that the steep, twisty route kept him from seeing very far down the road. A half hour later, he’d seen no cars driving in either direction, none of the dirt roads that led off the highway onto private property were dusty or looked recently disturbed.

  Up ah
ead was a rustic rest area with a car parked in the lot. He wouldn’t have thought to stop except the car was backed into its parking space, and the man behind the wheel dipped lower in his seat as he spotted Rocco’s truck approach.

  Rocco pulled in and stopped his truck right in front of the car. A short, slim man with dark coloring got out and started running. Rocco couldn’t tell if he was Middle Eastern or of some other ethnicity, but it didn’t matter. He ran like a guilty man. Rocco chased him past the facilities and up a steep path that led into the woods. Warning signals were firing in his head. He was either getting Rocco to waste precious time or running him headlong into a trap. He tackled the man before the path took them out of sight of the parking lot.

  “Where is she?” Rocco asked. The man beneath him shook his head. Rocco pounded his face into the hard dirt. “Where is Mandy Fielding?” Again no answer.

  Rocco wrapped an arm about the man’s throat and pulled tight. “I’m asking one more time, you son of a bitch.” He jerked his hold tighter.

  “I don’t know!” the man rasped, his words carried the heavy accent of a native Pashto speaker.

  “Then you will die.” Rocco tightened his grip. The man began gasping out a question in Pashto. Rocco eased his hold slightly.

  “Are you the Gray Ghost? Are you the one?”

  “I am,” Rocco answered in the same language. “You cannot escape me. In this life or the next, I will follow you and get my answer. Where is the woman?”

  “I don’t know. I was only supposed to get her to this place. They came and took her.”

  “Who?” Rocco asked. “Where did they take her? What are they driving?”

  “A green van. They are driving a green van. It is all that I know. I swear!”

  Rocco tightened his hold until the man passed out, then he carried him back down to the car. A black SUV pulled into the lot, stopping behind Rocco’s truck. He waited behind the decoy’s car, cautious about the new arrival until Angel jumped out of the passenger seat.