by Brina Cary
“Lass… Jacob…”
“Please don’t.” No, she could not bear to think of Jacob. There was too much to be done. No one else was going to use her grief as a political campaign. No one else was going to use her grief for an ‘iconic image’. Maybe if they made it through the coming war she would forgive Genevive for that, but it was going to take a lot.
“Ye need to know…”
She threw her arms up to stop anything further he might say. “I know all I need to know!”
He raised an eyebrow at her exasperation.
She took a deep breath. It wouldn’t do to get upset with him. He had lost a friend and knew how she felt, in a way. “Please don’t talk about him. I can’t bear it right now.”
“Verra well. Nothing else shall be said on the matter.”
“Thank you. Where are we on preparations? Have you guys deployed men to the Trident’s yet?”
“Aye.”
“The oil fields?”
“Three ships were sent to defend it.”
“Has there been any word on who sent the package?”
“Yer friend, the shrew…”
“The what?” A grin broke out on her face. Maybe she should ask him to call Gen that to her face. That would really start something. It would be hilarious!
“I meant the angry one.”
“Of course you did…”
“The lass is making headway on the computer. She expects an answer soon.”
“Good.” It was time they had some answers. They had been in the dark for far too long. It was only giving the perpetrators a chance to get away. They just needed a starting point. Something that could point them in the right direction. Who would want to destroy a newly formed country? Even if it was one that had stood for centuries, it was still newly formed in a way. Was that the key or was it more personal?
“I got it!!”
She turned towards Genevive.
“I got it!” Gen’s excitement was overwhelming. She held her laptop up in her excitement. “I found him!”
“The bomber?”
“Yes! He’s a mercenary from Sierra Leon.”
“Why in the world would a mercenary from Sierra Leon be interested in destroying Scotland?”
Genevive stopped and her face went blank.
“You have no idea, do you?”
“Not yet, but I will soon.”
“You’re still in the dog house. Show the bastard to me.” It would be good to put a face to the hatred she felt. The overwhelming hatred that threatened to boil over at any minute.
As Genevive held out the laptop to her she held her breath. What if she had seen him, but did not stop him? What if the little girl and her mother could have been saved the pain of being buried alive? What if Jacob’s death could have been prevented? Maybe there was something she saw, something she could have done… something to save them all. Would she be able to forgive herself? No, the answer was no. Still though, she looked.
As she gazed upon the face of the murderer she felt a small ounce of recognition. The man’s picture was deceiving. Bright green eyes. That’s what stood out the most. His bright green eyes. His skin was slightly tanned, his hair blonde as the summer’s sun, and his expression… It spoke of deceit. It spoke of lies. He was a mercenary alright. Someone trained to kill anyone they sought.
Someone had sent an assassin after her. The thought was sobering. Someone hated her so much that they wanted her dead. So much that they had killed a staggering 18 people to get to her. Yet, they missed. He missed.
He would come after her again. The question was when.
“Do you know his name?”
“Not yet. Amelia, you know…”
“That he’ll come after me again? Yes.”
“We need to get you to safety. He could be anyone by now. He could be wearing a disguise. If he’s a good assassin, then he’ll know how.”
“No, I’m staying. I’ll stay in this building if I absolutely must, but I’m staying. I want to see the bastard’s face when he loses this battle.” Her anger was showing. Taking a deep calming breath, Amelia continued, “You must understand. This is a personal attack in more ways than one.”
“Amelia, it’s ok. You want to be there. We get it.”
“I fer one, dinnae. The lass needs to remain safe. We cannae keep her safe if she goes gallivanting into danger.”
“Darren, I assure you that I will be fine.”
“’Tis not some game. We swore an oath.”
“I’m sure you will keep it, but remember I’ve grown stronger in the few weeks. I’m not the same woman you kidnapped.”
“Not enough to take on assassins.”
“Gen, tell me what all you’ve got on him.”
“Gladly. His name is Marcus Jones. He was born in Sierra Leon in March 1980 to a Virginia and Leonard Jones. His parents were killed when he was ten and he was raised by a warlord.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“Nope. He was raised by a warlord. Seriously. Then at sixteen he was hired for his first job. A local diplomat. Over the years he’s worked for just about anyone and worked just about anywhere. This man has quite the resume. His last kill was a United States Senator. It says his preferred method is poison.”
“So why did he chose a bombing this time?”
“Not sure yet.”
It was time to make sure everyone knew that she was alive and getting on with governing a country. “I need to be escorted to the Tridents.”
“What!?!”
“You guys don’t understand. Personal appearances are very important right now. It’ll give the people confidence and give him a chance to screw up.”
Deacon frowned. “Aye, the lass speaks the truth. Too many unknowns haunt us at the moment. ‘Tis important to choose the scene on which we fight. We have the advantage and we must use it. Gavin will escort her in one hour. ‘Tis true, the people must see the Queen out and about. Or they shall begin to worry. Worry breeds fear and fear breeds hate. The country could easily erupt into chaos.”
“See, Will gets it.”
Chris stepped forward away from his men. “Amelia, it’s too dangerous.”
“Chris, did I tell you it was too dangerous when you wanted to go after the man that shot Gen?”
“Point taken.”
“Good. Now shut up. I have to go get ready for my first public appearance since the bombing. God, I wish Edith was here. Where’s a publicist when you need one?”
Chapter 23
Amelia frowned as she glanced upon the entrance to the Trident Missiles. Would Marcus Jones be waiting somewhere inside for her? It was highly unlikely that he would have given up. She was the one that had gotten away. He would be coming for her. It was just a matter of when.
The Tridents were extremely important to both Scotland and England. One country used them for economics. The other used them for defense. Scotland had debated getting rid of the missiles once the country was free; however, the contract settled with England provided enough money to finance the country’s social programs for ten years. That was a big help. Scotland was still struggling with being re-added to the European Union. Several countries wanted it excluded. The Tridents were helping with that process. Once re-added to the European Union, there would be other financial opportunities that they could seek.
For now, the Tridents were their biggest asset. The oil fields were the second biggest. Although, no one really knew how much oil was there. England had kept a closed mouth on that. That was actually on the to-do list. To see how much oil there was. That could make or break the country. If there wasn’t much left, then riots might occur. The economy would be in chaos if they didn’t have something they could use as currency. However, if there was lots, then other countries would start a war for it.
Was that what this was about? Or was there something she was missing… Something even more nefarious. Something even more deadly.
The loud crack hurt her ears. What was that? Seconds
later, pain blossomed in her side. Lightning. It felt as if lightning had ripped through her with its jagged edges tearing through her skin, ripping her to pieces. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. The pain rendering her mute. She felt herself being thrown to the ground and covered by another human being. The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt. Attempts to shout at the person who was causing her more pain refused to pass her lips either. Snippets of hushed conversations graced her ears.
“Sniper on the west end.”
“Did ye get the wanker?”
“He only fired one shot. The nest is empty.”
“Is Amelia safe?”
The body covering her moved and she moaned. Hands flew to her side.
“Negative. Bullet, left side, just above the pelvis. Through and through. Looks like it was only a fragment of the bullet, not the actual round.”
“He missed?”
“Aye, he was spooked. Get Amelia to St. Mary’s. Tis not far.”
Chapter 24
“My Queen, I know ye said ye wish to never speak of Jacob again…”
“It doesn’t hurt so much now. He was very brave. I loved him… Did you know?”
“Aye, we ken. Lass, Jacob…”
“Yes, Will?”
“Jacob lived.”
Time stopped. Her stomach bottomed out and her legs shook, as if they were giving way. She doubled over, placing her hands on her knees in an attempt to keep her standing. Her vision swam and her heart beat rapidly within her chest.
Was it true? Had he lived and she had not been told? Or was it a cruel joke? A cruel, evil joke… after everything they had survived? “Will, why would you do this to me?”
He grabbed her upper arm. “’Tis no joke. Jacob was severely injured. He survives here in Saint Mary’s.”
“Seriously? He lives?”
“Aye, Jacob lives. Unfortunately, his injures have taken much from him. He remembers little from the accident… or before it. He will nae remember ye.”
Jacob was alive!
But he didn’t remember her? Her heart ached. If was as if he had died all over again. Come back from the dead and died once more. Love was lost once again. He was here though. Probably mere rooms away from where the doctor had placed the last stitch in her side from the bullet. “Will, please take me to him. Please? I have to see him. I have to know he’s alive.”
“Aye.”
Amelia steeled herself as Will came to a stop outside of the hospital room. Jacob was alive, and he was on the other side. She simply had to walk thru the door and greet him. Her stomach clenched. Greet him as if they had never met. Because according to him, they never had.
“Will, why would you guys lie to me? I trusted you all and you lied.” Her voice was even and firm, void of the emotion swirling inside of her. She felt Will’s hand upon her shoulder.
“We had to make a choice. ’Tis a puir choice, but one that was necessary.”
“No. It was one you felt was necessary because you thought I couldn’t handle this.”
“Nae, we ken ye could handle it. We ken Jacob would nae want ye too.”
“How severe are his injuries?”
“He may never battle again.”
Her heart stopped and emotion clogged her throat. She whispered, “Please explain.”
“His spine ‘twas injured. The surgeons have done their best, but he has no will to walk again. Jacob must find the will or the damage shall be permanent.”
“Will, what can I do?”
“He loved ye once. The love still has a place within his heart. Bring it to light. He may find strength in it. Fer now, he is angry. Verra angry.”
She understood what she had to do. She had to give him the strength to walk again. Even if he never remembered that she loved him or that he loved her, she could do this for him.
“Arrange my schedule, so that once this is over, every day I can spend at least an hour with him. Never tell him who I am. He may never remember me, but I will be there for him. In the meantime I will visit him as much as possible, but it must be hidden. Don’t tell anyone who he is to me.”
“He is here under a false name. The nurses and doctors know him for who he is. They dinnae use his name except with him. Who shall he believe ye to be?”
“A volunteer, someone to sit with him. If it’s all I can have with him, I will gladly take it. I would rather have an hour a day with him never knowing me again, than to have buried him in the tunnels. Never to see him again.”
“Lass, ken ye put both his and yer life in danger, coming here.”
“I am simply visiting patients, grateful that my injuries were not as bad as they could have been, should anyone ask. I will visit as many in the hospital as I can, to take the focus off him.”
“Aye.”
As Will turned from her, the door seemed to loom in front of her. It seemed to personify all of her fears. As if it was the most dangerous thing she had ever faced, laced with barbed wire and explosives. She straightened herself. It would not do to let Jacob see her afraid, even if he did not remember what they had. Even if he did not remember who she was. He had given her the strength she needed to be queen. She would draw upon that. She had to.
Opening the door, she first noticed that the room was cold and dark. She opened it further. There was a small light from the wall, above the bed. As her eyes adjusted a gasp escaped from her. Jacob lay on his side. His gown was open in the back and parted, the wounds from surgery on his spine visible to her. They served as a slap to the face. Angry reminders of what he had been willing to give for her. If only she had known he was alive. She would have risked it all to be with him.
A rough voice interrupted her inspection. “I told ye already. Get out! Leave me be!”
The hatred in the voice made her jump. Was this truly Jacob? The man that had held her so gently, teased her and kissed her under the Scottish castle as they sparred?
“Are ye deaf? I said leave!”
She spied the chair on the other side of the bed. It faced him. Perfect. The only way to fight anger was with anger. If he refused to walk then he couldn’t force her to leave. She walked around the bed and sat in the uncomfortable chair. Meeting his fiery eyes she leaned forward. “Make me,” she dared.
Chapter 25
“We can talk or you can just stare while I talk, but I’m not leaving for at least an hour. So get used to it.” She would stay for as long as they would let her, despite the ache in her side. Being shot was hell on being angry.
“Lass, ye should leave. I know ye not.”
Holding up her arm for him to see the arm band she grinned. “I’m a patient here too.”
“Oh dear God, yer a loon.”
Upon his eyes going wide, she fought not to laugh. He thought she’d escaped from the mental health wards. “No. I got shot. Just finished getting stitches.” His eyes gave her a quick glance over, probably assessing her health. Training was never forgotten, even if you couldn’t remember yourself. “Never been shot before. The bastard got me in my side. Good thing is that it was just a fragment from the bullet. Not the bullet itself. Got lucky there. Anyway, I figured I’d come by an introduce myself. My name is Amelia.”
Hope was quickly doused, as no recognition flared to life in his eyes. Jacob truly did not know her. Did not remember the times they shared. He gave his life for her. Even if he was still alive, he had lost his life. Every memory gone. Vanished, and nowhere to be found. If he knew it was because of her, would he hate her?
“Why would ye be botherin’ me?”
“You know, when one normally introduces oneself, it’s customary for the other person to respond with their name.”
His eyes crinkled around the edges. “They call me Jacob.”
“Jacob. Why that’s a lovely name. I knew a man named Jacob once. He was a good man. Truly a good man.”
“Then go find him.” Jacob’s eyes closed tightly. Was he in pain?
“Would love to, but my Jacob gave his lif
e for me.” She leaned back in the chair, kicked her shoes off, and propped her feet up on his bed. Resting one ankle over the top of the other she smiled at him. The bruises from the bombing had turned an ugly shade of purple, with a tinge of yellow and green. His eyes caught it, but he said nothing. Sighing deeply, she said, “That’s a story for another day though. So what happened to you to make you such a sour puss?”
A glare reflected back at her. “Lass, yer tryin’ my patience.”
“If you think I’m a pain in the ass now then you should see me when I’m feeling sassy.” Waiting for him to answer required the patience of a saint. Not one in training either. No, this needed the patience of a full fledged saint. Maybe even one with the ability to wait forever. She could wait though. Will stood outside, waiting for her. He would let her stay for as long as she could today. Then she would be back tomorrow. Eventually Jacob would remember her and hate her. Or he would learn to walk, then he would walk away from her. She would let him go. It was for the best.
A knock at the door signaled that it was time. If only there was more time. “Well, dear Jacob, it seems it’s time for me to leave. I think I’ll come back and see you again tomorrow.”
“Dinnae bother. I will nae speak to ye,” he sneered.
“Ah, but you will. A parting question for you though.” Her question was sure to anger him, but if that was what it took… She pulled her legs off the bed. Feeling the stitches pull in her side. Slowly she slid on her shoes. “If you walked out that door what would be waiting for you?”
“How would I know? I cannae remember a thing.”
“Your body remembers, even if you don’t. If you could walk, your body might take you to where you need to go. It might show you what your mind can’t remember.”
His mouth closed tightly and his eyes narrowed. She had only seen his temper once, but it was not an experience that she ever wanted to repeat. “I’m leaving. See you tomorrow.” As quickly as she could she exited the room. As the door closed behind her she heard something heavy slam against it.