“I’m not the only target.”
“You’re the only one I care about.”
Kelly’s chin snapped up, pulse pounding in her ears.
Knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, Tyler shook his head. “You’re the only one I know personally. I’m worried about other families, too, but they’re not personal.”
Her usual arguments died. Leaning on Tyler would only lead to disappointment, but she was too tired to fight him. Once she got some sleep that load would transfer right back to her shoulders. Her families needed her.
“Shorter and his guys are the best. And they’ve brought in Criminal Investigations and Homeland Security. They’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Kelly sat up, exhaustion gone. “Homeland? They’re viewing this as terrorism?”
“They’re not ruling it out. Terrorists deal in terror, not just killing. Fake bombs, shootings and veiled threats fit the bill. Someone’s trying to scare military families, and they seem to have a special agenda involving you.” He tapped the steering wheel with his thumb. “I’m not even sure I like you being at your office, even with soldiers there 24/7.”
“Where else do you want me to go? My dad’s in Afghanistan. My mom’s who knows where. And I won’t risk anyone else by running to their home to hide.”
“What do you mean about your mom?”
“What?” The abrupt change in conversation rocked Kelly’s indignation.
“Your mom. You said she’s ‘who knows where.’ I always assumed... Never mind.”
“You assumed she died?”
“Yeah.”
“Might as well have.” Kelly watched the bare trees, branches iced with fresh snow. “She took off when I was five. Couldn’t handle army life.” She sniffed bitterly. “That was the early nineties, when army life was a piece of cake compared to now. No major offensives after the first Gulf War. No long deployments. But the idea that Dad could go anytime, the way he disconnected when he was gone... Add to it that she was still pretty much a kid.”
“If you were five, I doubt she was much of a kid.”
“I was born when both of my parents were fifteen.”
“Oh.” There it was. That slight shock tinged with the smallest bit of condemnation. “Makes sense. If I’d have thought about it, I probably would have figured it out based on your dad’s time in service.”
Hmm. He was so...pragmatic. The fact he hadn’t judged, coupled with stress and zero sleep, loosened Kelly’s tongue into weaving a story she didn’t normally tell. “They were kids from a tiny town in Idaho.” She gripped the silver cross on the thin chain around her neck and slid it back and forth. “As far as jobs, there was nothing for them, so when he turned eighteen, Dad joined the army against my mother’s wishes. She wanted him to stay in that town—doing what, I have no idea. He’d been in a couple of years. They’d already moved once after he left basic and were looking at another move. Dad had been gone more than he’d been home, training and going to school, and when he was away, he totally forgot we existed. He was the kind of guy who couldn’t be a soldier and a husband.” The years since then had changed her dad, matured him into someone who could be there for his men and his family, but by then it was too late for his marriage. “My mother left me with a neighbor while Dad was on a two-week temporary duty assignment and never looked back.” Kelly gripped the cross so tight it dug into her palm. “No further contact. She told my grandmother once that if I hadn’t been born, Dad never would have joined the army and she never would have left him.”
“Kelly, you can’t listen—”
“That’s old news.” She didn’t need his sympathy. She’d long ago dealt with the fact her mother’s issues weren’t her fault, though she’d learned the lesson of her parents well. Depending on people was foolish. “My dad did a better job of being a dad than being a husband. I turned out fine. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Wow.” Tyler breathed the word so quietly that Kelly barely heard it. “I knew your dad was a stand-up guy, but...wow. He raised you as a single soldier father? Where did you stay when he was deployed?”
“He didn’t go much until after 9/11.” She’d never forget that day. She’d been drifting, unsure what she wanted to be in life. After hearing about the attacks, she’d frantically tried her dad’s cell, scared he’d go wheels up for parts unknown immediately. She’d prayed, cried, stared at the TV wishing there was some way to reach out to the ones hurting worse than she was, the ones in pain as they watched their lives crumble. She’d volunteered with the Family Readiness Group, went to school to be a counselor and later decided what she really wanted was to help other families. “That was also the day I decided I wanted to be a part of all of this.”
“And the army created the Family Readiness Support Assistant position.”
“I figured if I worked with the families maybe...” This was something she’d never said aloud.
“Maybe you could keep other moms from getting overwhelmed and taking off like yours?”
“Something like that.” New fire surged. “Like right now. Days like this are precisely when I’m needed there.”
Tyler was clearly frustrated with her. His shoulders squared as he shut down the ignition of her SUV. Funny how natural it seemed to let him drive it. She shoved the thought aside.
“We’re not rehashing this. We’ll both get some sleep and I’ll take you back.” He reached for her, then stopped and grasped the door handle instead. Seconds later, he was out of the car, walking up the sidewalk without waiting for her.
Slamming the door, Kelly followed, the need for her pillow warring with the need to be where her calling dictated. She found Tyler in front of her door, looking down. He took a step back as her gaze followed his.
A black box with a red ribbon. Like the one at the Family Resource Center, but this one sat in plain view on her doorstep.
* * *
This one’s live.
Kelly dropped her head back against the cinder block wall of the small room at Tyler’s battalion usually reserved for soldiers who bore “special scrutiny.” She shifted on the hard cot and wished she could erase the words, could stop seeing the look on the EOD tech’s face. The lines creasing his forehead, the veiled anger in his voice. She knew that look, that fierce surge of protectiveness. He felt it toward Kelly as he delivered the news to Tyler, never looking in her direction. Likely he couldn’t. He knew the news he delivered changed everything.
Live.
Over half of the thirty packages discovered on post were already searched. None held bombs except the one on her doorstep.
The coffee the staff duty officer had handed her when Tyler ushered her through the door two hours ago crystallized in her stomach. She’d never had an ulcer before but wondered if this was what it felt like.
If nothing else, this was what being a prisoner felt like. She cracked one eye open and peered around the windowless room. Pasty, chipped, painted cinder block walls and institutional tile floors held an ancient cot covered in an army-issue sleeping bag. Yep. Prison. Tyler had hustled her here as soon as the tech said her bomb was for real, then he’d vanished.
“Why me?” The groan was louder than she’d intended, and she dropped her forehead to her bent knees.
“I think I can answer that.”
Tyler’s voice jerked her to attention, sending a strange mix of relief and tension coursing through her. He’d come back. For her.
He’d changed into his uniform, the sight familiar, though the determination in his jaw was new. Kelly wanted to throw herself at him where he stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, but she held herself in place. “They caught who’s doing this?”
“I wish.” He nodded to the space beside her, and she slid over to make room. The cot sagged under the weight of his muscular body, the firmn
ess of his bicep pressing slightly against hers.
How she wanted to lean in and let him support her. God. God alone was her support. People eventually left. She cleared her throat and pulled away, though she could still feel the heat of him through her long-sleeved T-shirt. “What answer have you got for me, then? When can I get out of jail?”
Tyler chuckled bitterly. “Think of it as protective custody. Shorter thinks you’re better off here than at your office. Hopefully, no one will think to look for you at my battalion.” He tugged at a bootlace, then ran his hands down his thighs. “I’m staying, too.”
The words gripped her. “But it’s almost Christmas.”
“Where else would I be going? Family’s all in California. I was going to eat in the chow hall. I’ll bring my presents here if need be. Open them with you.”
Kelly focused on the wall. What would that be like, Christmas Day with Tyler? A tree. Dinner. Sharing a home... Her eyelids popped open. Never going to happen. “Tomorrow night’s Christmas Eve. I have a solo in the service at Main Post Chapel.”
“No way.” Tyler shook his head. “Not until this is over.”
Kelly pushed herself from the cot and stared down at him, fists digging into her hips. “Yes way. People are depending on me.”
Tyler stood, using his considerable height to his advantage. “You will back out as long as there’s a target on you.” He planted his hands on her shoulders. “We know what’s happening. We just don’t know who’s behind it.”
Kelly blinked twice and sank to the cot, trying to get away from his gaze. “What is it?”
Tyler sat beside her, rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. He stared at his laced fingers. “What I’m about to tell you is under wraps, got it?”
Kelly could only nod, the seriousness in his voice stealing her thunder. Something bigger than her was happening.
“Your dad’s unit is about to embark on a major offensive. It’s been in the planning stages for months.”
“But it’s winter in Afghanistan. The insurgents back off.” Everyone in the military knew winter was “hunker down and hold your ground” time in that mountainous terrain, where snowfall often came down in feet.
“Precisely why higher planned for now. The insurgents shouldn’t see it coming. Problem is we think they got intel.” Tyler gripped his fingers tighter. “It looks like they’re trying to hit the unit’s morale. Since they can’t fight over there, they’re bringing the fight here.”
Kelly’s fingers and toes chilled. “What do you mean?”
“Every incident has been aimed at families in your dad’s battalion.”
Kelly sat back hard against the wall, realization tracing icy fingers down her spine. “As the sergeant major’s daughter, I’m a high-value target.”
“Afraid so. Your father is the highest ranking guy over there who has family here in town.”
“That’s why everything aimed at me has been elevated. If they can demoralize the chain of command, they can demoralize the entire unit.”
Tyler slid back on the cot to lean against the wall. “I’ve been with Shorter some of this afternoon. Nobody thinks they’re out to kill anyone. Yet. There’s no leverage if you’re already dead, just more reason for our men to get angry and fight harder. But the threat of death, the threat of injury... That’ll take a guy’s mind off the battle, make him wish he was home, make him grumble about coming back.”
“Does the battalion know?”
“They’ve been put on blackout. No calls or emails in or out. It’s better that way, because the soldiers can’t do anything from over there to protect their families, and it will keep their focus on the mission. Most of the guys have been through blackouts before. They understand the need.”
As cruel as it seemed, it was the right thing to do. Even if they did pack up the whole battalion and bring them home, there was no guarantee the attacks would stop. The parties involved might even escalate. Kelly stared at the ceiling. Until they found who was behind the threats, there was nothing anyone could do.
* * *
Tyler balled his fists and planted them on his knees. With all of his training and experience, he’d never felt more helpless. “I’d trade places with any of the guys overseas in a heartbeat to put a stop to this whole mess.”
Kelly laid a hand on his arm, lightly at first, then with more insistence. He hazarded a look at her, something he’d been careful to avoid doing since he walked into the room. That fierce need to wrap her tight in his arms and shield her only grew with every incident that happened. He had to fight the instinct. His real job lay eight thousand miles away in the rugged mountains of Afghanistan, not in a cinder block room holding a pretty girl in his arms, even if she was in danger.
One look at those green eyes told him something had shifted with his words. His frustration with the situation had taken the edge off hers and given her something to focus on. As victim, she had no control. As comforter, she was firmly in her familiar role. The confidence in her expression said more than words.
She smiled that soft smile he’d seen her practice on family members a hundred times. “You’re not Rambo. You can’t go over there as a one-man army to defeat every insurgent who pokes his head out of a hole.”
“It would feel a whole lot better to try than to sit here doing nothing.” Tyler usually didn’t talk about how he felt. It wasn’t done in the army. It made him feel powerless. But it was worth it to see how she was drawing strength from leading him. He’d tell her every deep thought he’d ever had if it would keep that look of fear off her face.
“I doubt you’re as helpless as you think you are.”
Tyler sniffed his derision, failure burning in his gut. “I left my guys two weeks after we got over there. They’re embracing the fight while I sit here in my climate-controlled office and dole out advice to rear detachment soldiers and spouses. Not exactly soldiering, am I?” He hadn’t meant to truly air his bitterness, but the way Kelly fought to understand him unraveled his resolve. “Stupid knee.”
“You know—” Kelly settled back and leaned her shoulder against his “—in all of the months I’ve known you, you’ve never told me anything other than you took shrapnel during an ‘incident.’ What happened?”
No one had ever asked before. Most people ignored it, figuring he didn’t want to talk about it. Even his mom never mentioned it. Likely, she didn’t like to think about how close she’d come to losing her only child.
Tyler stared at the wall and let his vision go fuzzy. “Not much to tell. We were going on joint patrols with the unit we were replacing so they could give us the lay of the land and brief us on where the insurgents liked to play hide-and-seek, that kind of thing.”
In the time since, Tyler had tried not to think about it. Since no one asked, he set it aside, hoped the memories would fade. Suddenly, the idea of saying it out loud seemed cathartic, as if it would heal that hole he’d buried deep behind his heart. “We were on a dismounted patrol, working our way across a pass.” He lifted his hands and spread them arm’s length apart. “Afghans like to wall in some of their routes. We were walking along single file, watching the wall above us, the ground below us, everything, trying to be vigilant, but you can’t see everything.”
“Must have been claustrophobic.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe. You know that phrase ‘shooting fish in a barrel’? Felt kind of like the fish that day.” He’d gripped his rifle tighter and wondered how the soldiers they were replacing had spent a full year patrolling the area without going insane from the narrow focus and tough-to-defend position. “I was following Major Jorgenson, big old blond dude from Minnesota. His shoulders almost brushed both of the walls. If that passage had been any narrower, he’d have gotten stuck.”
Tyler grinned, until he thought about that last second. “He turned aroun
d to say something to me right as the road opened up and the wall ended. Never got to find out what was so important.” Whether someone tossed a grenade or Jorgenson stepped on an improvised explosive device, Tyler never knew. He shook his head. “There was this wall of sound. I mean, it was so loud it took over every bit of the world, even blinded me, because my brain was so full of the noise it couldn’t process any other senses.”
The room faded in the memory as the smell of dirt and smoke, the concussion of unfiltered explosion took over. “Next thing I knew I was flat on my back staring at the bluest sky you ever saw. Not a single cloud, no sound. I actually wondered if I was dead.”
Kelly leaned harder against his shoulder, then reached for his hand and gripped it tight. “I’m glad you weren’t dead.”
“Me, too. Most days.” He wouldn’t tell her about the nights he’d stared at his ceiling, unable to sleep because the pain in his leg reminded him that he, a single guy with no kids, could still feel the pain while Jorgenson, a husband and a father of two preschoolers, wouldn’t ever feel again. He probably hadn’t even felt the blast that yanked him out of the world.
Tyler exhaled loudly, shoving the picture of that last look from Jorgenson out of his head. “You know those war movies where the guy gets hit and there’s silence, then all of a sudden there’s this rush of chaos? It really did feel like that. Everything whooshed in. I got a rush of adrenaline like you wouldn’t believe. I couldn’t feel a thing and, for a minute, I thought I was paralyzed. Then I realized I could move my fingers, could sit up. When I saw the blood, I thought I’d lost half my body. I was covered in it. Most of it was his.” He shook his head to clear the vision and gripped Kelly’s hand as if she was the one good thing in his life.
Maybe she was.
Another thought he had to shake away. He pushed aside the emotion, going back into that matter-of-fact box where he liked to live, where he didn’t think about the emotional pain, just focused on the physical recovery. His voice grew stronger. “They thought I’d lose the leg, but they were able to repair it in Germany after the surgeon dug the shrapnel out. Know what it was?” He smiled bitterly. “It was a bullet from Jorgenson’s gun. The blast was hard enough to fire his ammo at me. I got shot in the knee by a dead man’s bullet.”
Holiday Defenders : Mission: Christmas Rescuespecial Ops Christmashomefront Holiday Hero (9781460341254) Page 19