The Protector
Page 37
They filed out noisily. Vivi tilted her head, using her good eye to glare at Armando.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“I know you unlocked those doors and helped save many of those girls tonight,” Vivi told him, “but I’m still going to kick your ass for keeping Sia-Sia’s identity from me.”
Armando smiled. “Then we’ll be even.”
She gave him a solemn stare and then smiled slightly. “Then we’ll be,” she agreed. “I’m glad you found your sister. How’s she?”
Armando’s expression hardened. “Not good. They’ll pay for what they did to her. But I’ll let you rest now. Good night.”
The door closed behind him. Vivi scooted to one side of the bed. “Are you going to let me rest all alone?”
Jazz smiled and moved to join her there. “You’re going to be asleep soon after taking that medication anyway. You’re trying not to yawn already.”
“But you’ll stay?”
“Yes, chouchou, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She sighed, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “Oh, wait.” She stretched one arm out, patting the night table by her. Sitting up again, she stifled another yawn as she handed over Hawk’s note. “Here, Hawk dropped this. I think it’s for you. I can’t read it anyway.”
Jazz unfolded the crumpled paper. Vivi leaned back. She could barely keep her eyes open now.
“Strange, but totally Hawk.”
“What does it say?” she asked sleepily.
“It says, ‘Remember, twin, I’ll always be GI number one.’ What the hell did he bring that up for?”
Vivi chuckled sleepily. “Jazz…?”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t be mad, okay?”
“About what, sweetheart?”
She yawned again. She couldn’t even form the thoughts to explain what Hawk’s note meant as she fought to keep her eyes open. Needed…to…do this. She put a finger into her mouth pushing up inside her cheek. She used her thumb to scrape at the tiny wire that held the disguise in place. Thank God for the painkillers or the task would have been impossible for one side of her face. Slowly pulling out the inserts that changed the upper palate of her mouth, Vivi said, in her grandma accent, “You’re my Number Ten GI. But I love you anyway.”
There was silence. She sighed as she closed her eyes. She was in so much trouble.
“You…what…don’t you fall asleep on me! You’re Grandmamasan? You’re…wait, wait…what did you say after that? Vivi!”
But Vivi could only smile as the drugs took over. Her last thought was how sweet her lover’s frustrated yelling was.
New Orleans
Four months later
It was supposed to be a happy day. Jazz looked around him. Everyone was waiting expectantly for his speech. He had it all planned, too.
He was going to tell how incredible the last four months had been, running back and forth between two continents, trying to make a relationship work out. He was going to outline all the funny things that had happened between Vivi and him. How they had first met, without some classified details, of course. How he had finally proposed while playing a melody on the Da Nhat in front of a bunch of laughing locals and had played “Oh Susannah” mournfully till she had finally agreed. How she had transferred out of her GEM assignment with Interpol. So many things to celebrate. Most of all, today he was going to talk about the love of his life in front of all his friends who had shown up for his engagement party.
Vivi, the woman he adored. And how capable and wonderful she was. He smiled, as he always did, when he thought about her.
She had finally flown home to the States and met with his mother and sisters in Slidell. She had been nervous. His maman, bless her heart, had taken one look at Vivi and hugged her.
“You’re perfect for my Zola,” she had exclaimed. “Come and tell me everything.”
Everything had gone so well. Even his brother, Zippy, appeared to be on his best behavior around Vivi. He had actually shown up in a shirt—a rare thing for his wild and unruly brother when there was a strange woman around. Jazz had no doubt Vivi would have handled Zippy, but he was glad he didn’t have to deal with his brother’s outrageous sense of humor. She was already a little overwhelmed by all the sisters—all of whom took her out on an all-girl pow-wow—but she hadn’t run off, not even when his mother kept introducing her as the future Mrs. Zola Zeringue.
Maman had insisted on an engagement party and Jazz, as usual, let the woman steamroll over him. What began as a simple affair had bloomed into an extravaganza that would have had him hiding in the bayou in the old days. But this was his engagement party and he had seen the light in his Vivi’s eyes; she was happy and that was what he wanted. This was new to her, he realized that now, this attention to her. She had always focused on others and now she deserved this. His wise maman had known this.
Then an hour before the party, Admiral Madison called. Jazz hadn’t expected the admiral to show up anyway, so he had thought the call was just to congratulate him and Vivi. But his commander had tagged on another piece of news after a pause.
“It’s Hawk,” he’d said. “I have to tell you while the others in the team are there, Lieutenant. We lost him. Our source reported that Dilaver found out he was a plant. There’s another report of a body found with Hawk’s description but no confirmation as of yet. I’ll keep in touch.”
Hawk could be dead. Or in deep shit somewhere. Jazz felt that it wasn’t right to be celebrating his own engagement while Hawk was missing. But everyone had arrived, including his own team. They sat in shocked silence in a corner of the huge hall as they absorbed the news.
“He would want you to continue, sir,” Cucumber finally said. “It’s your day today.”
“Nothing’s confirmed yet so I refuse to believe he’s dead anyway,” Mink said.
“We’ll take it one day at a time.” Joker gave him the microphone. “Go make the speech. Vivi’s waiting for you over there.”
Jazz took the mike and looked at Vivi, standing on the dais. She looked so beautiful, dressed in a soft green dress. She had told him she would support anything he decided, that they were in this together.
Together. This was a special day for Vivi. She had given him her trust and love, overcoming her fear of being abandoned. She had even gotten to like uniformed men now. He couldn’t go up there and put this off. She belonged to him, just as he belonged to her. He made his way to the dais. She was wearing the pendant he gave her when they’d met. Her eyes told him all he needed to know. He bent and softly kissed her. The guests cheered lustily.
“Hey! Speech first!” someone yelled.
“We want to hear this big news you wanted us to fly here for!” another person added.
Yes, the big news. Jazz looked out into the crowd, very aware that his family, his team, and Vivi’s own friends knew of his fear for Hawk, knowing that they would support him in whatever he chose to do. Friends were that way.
“It’s okay,” Vivi whispered. “I’m with you a hundred percent. I love you, my darling GI number ten, no matter if it’s now or later.”
That was now her nickname for him. In retaliation, Jazz called her Grandmamasan. All this only served to remind him of Hawk.
“Love you too,” he said.
“Speeeeeech!” one of his sisters called up.
Jazz put up his hand and everyone shushed. He pulled Vivi closer to him. Her hand caressed his back.
“I can’t start celebrating love without first talking about friendship. It’s friendship that brought Vivi and me together, and it’s also friendship that brought all of you here. But someone who should be here isn’t. He’s my best friend and I wanted him to be my best man. Right now, it doesn’t seem possible. I’d like to have him here in spirit at my engagement to Vivi.” Jazz paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “I believe in miracles. In my job, little miracles happen every day. Like meeting Vivi, my love. I also believe that music
is everywhere, that one could celebrate and mourn with a song. Hopefully, Hawk, wherever he is, will hear this song and know that he’s in our thoughts.” He turned and picked up his brother’s guitar. Strumming a few chords, he added, “This is a song by the Fab Four.”
The choice of song had just come, like all his music usually did. It was written with a simple, haunting melody, conveying layers of emotions. Jazz kept his eyes on Vivi as he sang the lyrics. It started about places he remembered and he knew she was thinking about the woods where they had made love. About how these places had their moments. And he thought of Hawk and him during their times together.
Of friends and lovers. The room was so silent as he sang the part where “some are dead” that he could hear the squeaky strings of the guitar. He played the beginning chords again, this time adding a touch of energy to it, giving the tune a more hopeful beat as he tapped on the guitar. He smiled at Vivi.
Of all the friends and lovers. Vivi smiled back, her eyes bright with tears, as she realized the rest of the song was about her. That she was everything to him. That he loved her more than anything in this life.
“In my life, Vivi, I love you more,” he ended and put down his guitar.
There was a pause. Then Vivi let out a small sob and stepped into his arms. The room came alive as everyone cheered.
“I love you, Zola Zeringue,” she yelled out above the pandemonium. “But I’m still going to kick your ass for making me cry in public.”
Jazz laughed. Their lives would always have worries and obstacles, what with his job and her constant need to save young girls. But now they had each other.
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to Maria “HoF” Hammon and Melissa Copeland, two special gems; the sea mammals whose smart mouths were a bad influence; Erika Tsang, my editor, and Liz Trupin-Pulli, my agent. They are all my special protectors.
And always, the ladies at Delphi TDD, my shadow warriors, who read for me, especially Sandy “Sadista” Still, Mirmie Caraway, Karen King, Angela Swanson, Teena Weena Smith, and Katherine Lazo.
Thank you RBL Romantica for all your support!
Please support ECPAT (End Child Prostitution in Asia) and TWMAEW (Third World Movement Against Exploitation of Women).
About the Author
Gennita Low is a former translator who speaks fluent Chinese, Malay, German, Russian, and English. Gennita is co-owner of a roof construction business and is quite probably the only female roofer in central Florida. She is the author of two previous novels, Into Danger and Facing Fear, and is a winner of the Romantic Times Best Romantic Intrigue Award of 2003. To learn more about Gennita, visit her at www.gennita-low.com
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By Gennita Low
THE PROTECTOR
FACING FEAR
INTO DANGER
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE PROTECTOR. Copyright © 2005 by Jenny Low. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Microsoft Reader August 2007 ISBN 978-0-06-154222-0
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