She slid between the covers regardless of being damp. She didn’t care if she was chilled, it was better than feeling any warmth. She pulled the sheets over her head and willed herself back to sleep, but even then she couldn’t rest. All she could feel was the touch of his hands, the brush of his chest against her own and the way she had soared, flying for once and enjoying it more than she had ever thought possible.
It was only the landing that had her perspiring with fear. Sweat poured from her as her joy turned to madness. Her whole world rocked as she crashed back to earth, visions of bloody body parts strewn in great heaps around her, while Aaron’s laughing green eyes and square chin mocked her from somewhere just out of her grasp.
She was almost relieved when the phone began to ring. Glancing at the clock, she rolled her eyes as she noticed the time. It was later than she had suspected. Leaning across the bed, she picked up the phone.
“Hello?” She was shocked at how raspy her voice sounded.
Amy was on the other end of the line. She sounded shaky, fragile even.
“Gem, I’m in a right state. I can’t go down yet and I need to email some things to the hospital. Joe is taking Jason for a final check up on the way to Ellen’s place. Can you do it for me? It won’t take long and you shouldn’t be interrupted as everyone else has already left. I meant to do it the other day, but I forgot and the hospital administrators will start kicking up a fuss if I don’t get all the details to them today.”
Gemma pushed the sheets away from her and sat up. It wouldn’t do her any good to lie about brooding over what might have been anyway.
“Yes, of course. I’ll go down now. You get some rest, you sound as though you could do with it, though if you want me to come and sit with you afterwards, I really don’t mind.”
Amy let out a grim laugh.
“And let you watch me throwing up for the next two hours, no thanks, besides I have the instigator of all my problems sitting here holding my hand right now. I’ll let him stay with me just so he can witness my suffering seeing as he’s the cause of it all.”
Gemma laughed with her and then held the phone away from her ear as loud gagging sounds suddenly erupted from the speaker. She spoke again even though she knew that Amy was no longer listening.
“I’ll go and sort out the email. You just sit there and keep calm. There’s nothing I can’t handle.” She placed the phone back on its cradle before she rose and walked to her wardrobe. She tugged on her clothes and walked down to the office a few minutes later where she turned on the computer and sat waiting for it to load.
Chapter Eleven
She stared at the email uncomprehendingly. She had only come downstairs because Amy had rung her room and asked her to fill in. Morning sickness had kicked in hard and Amy wanted to remain in bed until the worst of it was over.
Gemma had traipsed downstairs. She had been about to mail the relevant documents to the hospital when the computer pinged to tell her that a new email had come in. She wasn’t surprised to see that it came from the Army. They had them all the time now, mostly asking about places for new guests. Amy had said that they would be up to twelve visitors from the next week.
She had only thought to save Amy some work when she opened the attachment, but her attention had immediately been caught. The name at the top of the paperwork was Ryan Taylor. For a moment, she had wondered where she had heard the name before. It came to her instantly as she scanned the rest of the sheet. Patrick had mentioned the name when he had almost attacked Aaron in the kitchen.
She had been shocked when he chucked her out of his room that morning and she had been desolate as she realized that his feelings for her were nothing like as deep as her own for him, but this email had completely floored her.
He had lied to her constantly. He had lied to his friends, his colleagues, the investigating team and even, she suspected, to himself, but the truth was all down on the email in black and white.
He was a Special Forces pilot, but he’d had some kind of breakdown that led to him crashing his helicopter. He’d lied about the missile, torn his hand up and broken his ankle on a terrible landing of his own making. He had done something similar nearly ten years before, but had somehow got away with the lies that time and convinced his commander that he was still up for the job.
She looked at the identification number of the previous incident and curiosity had got the better of her. Her eyes narrowed as she read the date, a date etched onto her brain forever. She looked at the number of dead men and counted them off in her memory just before she saw her own name mentioned as the only surviving passenger.
The pilot had survived too. His real name was right there on the screen in front of her. Aaron Thomas as a name wasn’t such a far leap from Ryan Taylor, the name he had been born with.
She had slapped her forehead for being such a dimwit even as her heart was breaking all over again. She should have realized when Patrick had recognized him in the kitchen. Patrick had known instinctively, had almost gutted the guy the moment he set eyes on him. Gemma didn’t know why Patrick had reacted so badly, but there must have been a pretty good reason for him to act so violently. He didn’t get things like that wrong. Not ever.
She couldn’t imagine how Taylor had reinvented himself or why the services had missed his fake identity. Neither could she see how he’d ever been allowed to fly again after such a bad accident, but he had, for nearly ten years it would seem.
Had Patrick known about the deception all along? He’d seemed shocked when Ryan had entered the kitchen, but Gemma wasn’t so sure now.
Patrick was ex Special Services. Hard as nails, sharp as a tack and not easy to surprise. The sort of man who could stand invisible for hours right beside you and slice your heart into sushi before you even realized that it had been cut from your body.
All Special Forces personnel were trained to a standard most men could only dream of reaching. With the places and missions they had to go on, she imagined that they needed a completely different mindset to an ordinary soldier. Perhaps Patrick had been feigning surprise to confuse her. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d had to cover for someone, of that she was very sure.
Another possibility crossed her mind. Perhaps Aaron really did have a breakdown, a major one that he couldn’t help and couldn’t avoid. Who knew what tipped some people over the edge? She wiped her brow at the thought of him suffering, but she couldn’t quite believe it. He seemed perfectly normal to everyone.
She thought hard for a moment before making a decision. She had to see Patrick. If Patrick said he wasn’t Ryan Taylor, then he really wasn’t and she would believe him. People trusted Patrick’s judgement implicitly, but if he admitted that the email told the truth then she would have to leave. Or Ryan would.
The thoughts whirled in her mind. Could Patrick have really not known that his friend was alive? Fury swept over her at the thought that he had covered up for his man when he had killed so many. She had to know. She had to find out the truth. She could never trust any of them if they had known and kept it from her. She printed out a copy of both the sheets of the email, grabbed up Joe’s car keys and made for the door.
Paul was walking down the stairs. He lifted his head at the sound of her hurried steps.
“Gem, is that you? You okay? Is there something the matter?”
She didn’t hold back. She stopped and flapped the printed pages in front of him.
“Did you know that Aaron Thomas was an alias? Did you know he was Special Forces along with Patrick and that he was the pilot that took my arm?” Her chest was heaving as though she had run a mile in record time and her hands were shaking with the rage that coursed through her
Paul took another step forwards, flung out his hand and caught the papers. He ran his fingertips over the printout after assuming that she had printed it off in Braille, but he handed them back to her when he realized that she hadn’t bothered. The paper in front of him could have had the secret recipe for c
oca cola written on it for all he knew.
He drew in a breath and tried to calm the furious woman in front of him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Patrick was doing some checking on the guy, Alex too but nothing had been confirmed. As far as I know, we haven’t heard anything concrete yet. Why?”
Gemma snarled.
“Well, we’ve heard something now. I just discovered this email. The bastard is nothing but a liar and a cheat. He doesn’t have any permanent disabilities or lasting trauma. He’s not even meant to be here. They were only keeping him out of the way while they investigated his latest crash, one of several he’s been involved in. Well, now they’ve finished investigating his ridiculous claims and they sent an email confirming it along with some interesting old records.”
Paul lifted a hand as he tried to placate her.
“Gemma, you know that you are not meant to go into private emails like that. You don’t have the clearance and you can’t judge him. You don’t know what he may have gone through or suffered. Not all injuries are obvious from the outside and if there had been anything pertaining to you or your welfare I would have told you when I could confirm all the evidence.”
She almost choked in surprise.
“So you wouldn’t have shown me this if you had seen it first? You would have covered it up too?” She waved the sheet of paper around in front of him again.
Paul’s features suddenly hardened. He didn’t have time for this. Amy was ill and Gemma was being impossible. He couldn’t even check the source of this missive that she relied on so easily because he couldn’t read the blasted email.
“From the way you are reacting, no, I probably wouldn’t have shown it to you, but then I don’t even know who the damned email is from or what it actually says. I only have your angry ranting to go on. Maybe you would like to wait until I’ve had time to peruse the missive properly and check the sources before you throw out wild accusations. I can then offer you an accurate opinion of what I would or would not have done.”
It was rare for Paul to sound harsh and Gemma stepped back, momentarily shocked. There was a sudden noise in the silence that developed. Amy stood at the top of the stairs. She looked ashen, her legs trembling as she clung onto the banister.
“Paul, would you bring up some lemonade with my breakfast. I think it might help.” The poor woman suddenly began retching into a bucket that she carried under one arm.
Paul immediately turned to his wife and his voice softened.
“Yes, darling. Go back to bed. I’ll be up again in a few moments with everything you fancy.” He waited until he heard her retreating footsteps and a door close above him before he turned back to Gemma, his voice hard once again. “I’ll take a look at the email as soon as I’ve seen to Amy’s comfort. She’s my primary concern at the moment, especially as the other guests have already left for the hotel, but be assured I will let you know what I think of whatever you are talking about as soon as I can.” He promptly turned and marched towards the kitchen without giving Gemma a second thought.
She stood there gaping for more than a few seconds trying to remember if she’d ever had a bad word with Paul before. She couldn’t remember ever having bad words with any of the men. Her tongue could run away with her at times, but they had never taken any notice of it before. When they were in the army she could give as good as she got and no one ever batted an eye lid.
She looked up as she heard the sound of violent retching again and wondered if she shouldn’t go and see if Amy was alright, but the kitchen door reopened and Paul came out with a tray of dry bread, a glass of lemonade and what looked like a bunch of spring onions. Gemma shook her head in wonder as Paul disappeared up the staircase. Amy’s pregnancy was obviously taking its toll on both of them which probably explained Paul’s short temper.
She looked down at the email again and the anger curled in her stomach. Okay, so Paul clearly hadn’t seen the email before, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have the right to be furious with Aaron. Or Patrick, if he had known about it.
She couldn’t wait for Paul to come back down after seeing to Amy. Who knew how long he would be. Amy might be sick for the rest of the day for all she knew.
She gripped the car keys as she stepped outside and climbed into her car before driving off to find Patrick.
Aaron stood to attention, his eyes hard, his chin lifted.
Patrick sat behind his desk while Aaron’s commanding officer, Daniel Bailey gave him confirmation of the news. Aaron had guessed it was coming, but it was devastating to see it written down and thrust in front of him. He had hoped that his source was mistaken, had hoped that there could have been some wild error.
“I know it’s a shock but we had to keep it quiet. It was part of the reason we had to keep you out of it all the first time. It was a trap set for our teams, same as the one that put Patrick out here a few weeks after your first accident. We wanted to flush the bugger out. There could be no investigation and Miss Wainwright might have demanded one if she had known that you were still alive. We couldn’t let a leak like that come out. As it is we can’t even help you in this latest debacle. The bastard set up the emergency on your last trip and he worked it well, but he slipped up. At least we’ve caught him now.”
Patrick pushed his chair back and wiped his hand across his face as he stood up.
“Ten bloody years! Jesus, Dan! How many men have lost their lives because we couldn’t pick up the little shit, or the people he was involved with, before now? And how the fuck long did you think that anyone could stay dark. Christ! Ryan’s been covert for eight years. How is that even allowable? It’s like some kind of torture that you’ve put him through.” He was clearly furious.
Bailey sucked in a breath.
“You can rage, but it might have been a lot longer if it hadn’t been for people like you and the rest of the teams. These terrorists are like mist. They disappear on a breath of wind and are immediately replaced by some other lunatic hell bent on glory...” He tilted his head towards Ryan. “Look, I’m sorry, Taylor but your cover’s blown completely and your career as a pilot for the forces is down the pan as of now. They’re not going to let you back in after this latest crash without us revealing that you really were blown out of the sky in a safe zone, and we can’t do that. Bad for morale. Neither can we set you up with a new identity again. You would be too noticeable what with that hand anyway. You know how it works.” He gave a small, embarrassed cough.
Ryan was barely listening. His hand fisted repeatedly. The anger surged through him, blinding him to all reason. He wanted to hit something, wanted to feel the traitor’s bones crushing beneath his feet for the lives he had stolen, but his dangerous thoughts soon wandered and turned to the beautiful, courageous woman he had kicked out of his bed earlier that morning.
The woman with whom he had fallen in love.
His knees nearly gave way as the thought of her confused and hurt expression as she had marched out of his room, smashed into his brain with the force of an exploding bomb.
His heart pounded in his chest, his blood raced around his body so fast that he swore he could actually feel it beneath his skin. The fact that he was now without a job barely registered in his mind. It was an insignificant annoyance that didn’t trouble him half as much as he had thought it would. The devastating confirmation that Gemma had been in the crash with him ten years ago, had lost her arm due to it, was what rocked him now.
He’d had his suspicions from the description and time range that she had given him, but he had convinced himself it couldn’t be true. He’d been told that no one else had survived. He hadn’t known that she had been on his flight. He only remembered calling in to say that he was heading back out to base and that he could offer anyone a ride. He knew that two climbed aboard the helicopter, but in uniform nearly everyone was anonymous.
He did remember the emergency call though. It had come nearly halfway through the flight; a short transmission pick
ed up from a static filled field radio. They were well inside their own safe zone and he’d thought it would be an easy pick up. He’d half thought that the injured guy had foolishly shot himself through the leg. Amazingly it did happen occasionally.
But less than five minutes after the pick-up, he’d seen the missile on the radar. He’d swerved out of its path and heard yells from the rear of the helicopter as the men fell about the cabin. He’d taken another look at the radar and his heart had sunk. Heat-seeker. Short of shutting down the engines, they were done for. At the last second, he’d dropped the craft and thought he’d made it until he had heard the zing of winged metal. The missile had clipped the rear rotor. He had hardly felt anything but the craft had begun to spin. He’d dragged it back under some sort of control just in time to see the heat-seeker heading back their way. He knew that the damned things only had three minutes worth of power, but that was a hell of a length of time when you were desperately trying to avoid them. He had looked down over the rocky terrain.
They had been dropping progressively closer to the ground and with the little manoeuvrability he had, he’d looked for somewhere flat to land. It was all a boulder field as far as he was concerned, but the missile was too close for comfort. He dumped the fuel, hoping that when the thing hit they would just fall out of the sky rather than blow-up into some crazy fireball. There was a resounding bang, the helicopter had lurched sideways and began to drop at an alarming rate, but the ground was close and he thought that there was just an outside chance that they might make it.
That Gemma had survived the crash was a miracle given the destruction that had ensued. The sequence of events that followed would be etched onto his brain forever.
He hadn’t reckoned on the craft landing right between two giant boulders. They hadn’t looked quite so huge from a hundred metres up but the tail of the craft immediately split from the body and bent up over the cabin. The rear rotor, still spinning furiously, had sheared right off. From where he’d been flung forward in the cockpit, he saw it disappear into the main cabin just before the helicopter dropped another metre deeper into the crevice. His body bounced forwards and he heard glass splintering among the screams from behind him before his head had struck rock.
Scarred Survival (Scarred Series Book 5) Page 18