Tactical Rescue

by Maggie K. Black

  “I can tell what you’re thinking,” he whispered, “and you’re wrong.”

  Rebecca turned toward Zack, “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

  “Yeah.” He smiled. “I kind of think I do. You’re thinking about our conversation about women like your mother who sit around at home, miserably sewing blankets and curtains, or however you put it, with no life of their own, just waiting for their husbands to come home. You’re presuming that Katie is one of them.”

  She shrugged, and didn’t deny it. He chuckled.

  “What?” she asked.

  “It’s just, if you knew Katie you’d know how funny it is that anyone would think that about her. Katie is the strongest, most intelligent, most fiercely independent woman I’ve ever met. Well, one of the two of them, that is.”

  He shot her a sideways glance that sent heat through her chest.

  “Mark is my best friend on the planet,” he went on. “Strong heart, brilliant mind. You will never meet a better man. But he’s also a stubborn, absentminded inventor, who’s great at anything that has to do with electronics and moving parts, but whose company would’ve totally failed financially if he hadn’t had the smarts to fall in love with Katie and let her take the reins of the management and communications side. And he’d be the first person to tell you that.”

  He pushed the door open. “Besides, if you think ‘holding down the fort’ is somehow a lesser job than being ‘out in the field,’ then it’s only because you have no idea just how impressive this fort really is.”

  He was still chuckling as they walked through the door. She stepped through the front door, expecting to see a typical living room. Instead, she found herself in a huge, beautiful open space that was a family room, library, office and study in one. Towering wood beams crossed above her head. Warm brown couches and reclaimed wood furniture nestled in a sunken living room to her left. Straight ahead lay a dining table, large enough to seat twelve, with an open pass-through space to the kitchen behind it, and a hallway that she guessed led to the bedrooms. To her right were two huge desks, overflowing with several computers of different shapes and sizes, and at least five different screens, all of which seemed to be humming. Every inch of space seemed to be covered in papers, books or electronic components. But there was something about the clutter that somehow didn’t make it feel messy. Rather the space felt very loved, very homey and very safe in a way she couldn’t put her finger on.

  But something about the way Zack was still grinning at her almost made her defensive. What was his point exactly? That it was possible to be happy and married to a strong man without ending up like her mother? But so what? There was only one strong man she’d ever imagined herself married to. And he didn’t want her for a wife.

  Tension rose to the back of her neck. “Katie may be doing an amazing job of running her husband’s business. But she still gave up her dream, of being a journalist, to run his company.”

  “Actually,” Katie’s voice came from the doorway in the back of the room, “I gave up my job of being a journalist and my hope of becoming an editor for the job of corunning and co-owning a company.” She walked into the room with an armful of clothes. A smile curved on her lips. “And yup, I’m in love with and married to the other co-owner, which has its own pluses and minuses.” She laughed. “More pluses than minuses.”

  An uncomfortable heat rose to Rebecca’s cheeks. Katie’s eyes met Rebecca’s. There was a softness there, an understanding, a forgiveness even that Rebecca wasn’t expecting.

  Katie walked over to the desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a huge, heavy-looking phone. She handed it to Zack. “Use this. Call whoever you need to call. It’s a prototype Mark was working on, so it’s both untraceable and disposable. We’ve been calling back and forth on it while he tries to work out some kinks in the system, so if it starts ringing, it’s probably him. You left a pair of fatigues in our washing machine last time you were here. They’re in the top drawer in the guest room.”

  Zack nodded, took the phone and headed down the hall, leaving Katie and Rebecca alone in the room.

  “These clothes are mine.” Katie held up a pair of jeans, a navy sweatshirt and a T-shirt for Rebecca. “But they should fit you.”

  “I’m so sorry for what I said.” Rebecca turned to her. “I apologize, I didn’t mean any offense.”

  “It’s okay,” Katie said gently. “I would’ve probably thought the exact same thing in your shoes a few years ago. I saw the interview that your stepfather did and heard how he talked about you. My family background was pretty challenging, too. I didn’t really believe there were good men in the world until I met Mark.”

  Rebecca didn’t know what to make of that. She’d just met the woman, and yet there was something in her eyes that said maybe she actually did understand what it was like to grow up in a family like hers. What it was like to sit through awkward dinners, feeling the tension simmering through the air. How alone she’d felt.

  She’d never really felt as though anyone had ever understood before. Not even Zack, who’d been disappointed back then that she’d never invited him to her house or introduced him to the General.

  And yet Zack had still always known she’d needed him, even when she didn’t know how to put it into words. He’d been there to protect her then. He’d been her safe place.

  “Zack is the only truly good man I’ve known,” she said.

  “I know the feeling,” Katie said. “I felt the same way when I met Mark.”

  “Zack and I are just friends,” Rebecca added quickly. “Nothing more, and we haven’t even seen each other in years.”

  “Zack’s an interesting one.” Katie nodded. “He’s a hard guy to get to know in some ways. He’s steady as a rock, reliable and easygoing. But he lets very few people into his inner circle. Zack helped saved my life once, and he’s saved my husband’s life more than once. I’ve never seen him as protective of anyone as he is of you.”

  Suddenly Katie’s face paled. She dropped the clothes, gripped the back of the chair and took a deep breath in and out.

  “You okay?” Rebecca asked.

  “Braxton Hicks.” Katie ran both hands over the sides of her belly and whispered a prayer under her breath. “The midwife calls them practice contractions. I’ve been having them on and off since yesterday. But I’m not due for six weeks yet.”

  Rebecca bent down and picked up the clothes. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No, I’m fine. I’m under strict instructions to avoid all stress—not that I’m meaning to imply you and Zack are stressful. We’d do anything for Zack.” Katie walked over to the desk. “I’m sorry if I threw you with what I said about your family. I think pregnancy has made me a bit blunt at times. But I’ve been following the news, and there was just something about General Miles’s demeanor that reminded me of both my stepfather and my sister’s husband. And not in a good way. So I read the blog and recognized a lot of the same patterns from what I lived through.”

  Rebecca hugged the clothes to her chest and looked out at the sparkling light dancing on the surface of the lake.

  “Seth told me that he wrote the blog,” she said. “I haven’t read it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Then I heard it was shut down.”

  “I found a cached copy saved online,” Katie said. “You can read it on my computer, if you want to.”

  “Will it upset me?”

  “Probably. Yes. I imagine it will.” Katie’s hand brushed her shoulder. “But I’ll be around, so if you need someone to talk to, just shout.”

  “Thank you.” The words seemed inadequate, but Rebecca didn’t really know what else to say. Katie opened a website. Rebecca sat down and stared at the plain white screen with block black text:

  The Truth About General Arthur Miles.

  Rebecca’s eyes scanned the page.
>
  The website was laid out very simply. She’d expected some kind of flowery rhetoric, even some kind of rant. Instead, it was just a list of titles and links to documents that seemed to have been compiled in no specific order other than when the blog owner had found them.

  There were copies of love letters the General had apparently exchanged with women around the world, some dating back decades, posted alongside X-rays of suspicious-looking injuries that Seth had sustained as a child—fractured collarbone, shattered wrist, bruising. There was a copy of the police report where a teenage Seth had apparently tried to report his mother missing, and a string of emails he’d sent to various officers begging them to open an investigation into her disappearance. Another was a letter from one of Seth’s teachers from six months before the General married her mother, recommending Seth be removed from the home and placed in care, citing suspected neglect and the suspicion Seth was left home alone for days at a time.

  Then she hit a letter that made the tears that had been silently building in her eyes spill and tumble onto the keyboard.

  It was an email from her mother, sent to a very old email address she’d stopped checking years ago, after Seth had hacked her password:

  Dear Becs,

  I don’t know if this is the right address to write to you at. I tried calling your phone but didn’t get an answer. I’m guessing you’re busy traveling and doing your video thing. I know you’re mad I never told you anything about your real father. When I found out I was pregnant, I promised your father I’d never tell you the truth about him, because he was going to tell you himself when he was ready.

  But now he’s told me that he’s falling in love with another woman, and having a child with her, and I don’t think he’s ever going to tell you.

  General Arthur Miles is your real father. We met when he was married to Seth’s mother and I was working as a waitress. We had a secret relationship for years and I’m not proud of that. I think Seth’s mother knew. He kept promising he’d leave her. But then she had Seth and he stayed with her, and disappeared for a while.

  Then when Seth’s mother died he made good on his promise to take care of us. On the condition I was a good mother to Seth and never told anyone he was your dad.

  I don’t know what to do now. The General says that he can’t divorce me because it’ll be bad for his career. He wants me to agree to just leave him.

  But I don’t know how I’m going to live without him, either. I’m scared. He promised to take care of me. But he didn’t...

  The letter rambled on, growing more anxious and incoherent with every line, reminding her of just how sick her mother had been.

  Now the tears were falling so hard from Rebecca’s eyes that she couldn’t see the words on the screen.

  Seth’s words from the night before flooded her memory.

  Wake up, Becs! You’re the only one who might even understand... I created that blog about our father... My father. Your father... I was trying to protect my sister...

  Was this what Seth had been trying to tell her? That he was really her half brother? How long had he known? Since before her mother had married their father? Since he’d hacked into her account and found the email her mother had sent before she died?

  Pain was building like a weight in her chest.

  Her head dropped into her arms and she prayed. Lord, this hurts so much I don’t know how I’m ever going to handle it.

  Then firm, warm hands touched her shoulders. Rough lips brushed the top of her head.

  Then she heard Zack’s voice, comforting, strong. “It’s okay, Becs. You’re okay.”

  Zack stood behind her. She hadn’t even heard him come in, but now here he was, dressed in green military fatigues, looking every bit the soldier, with his arms outstretched to comfort her. She stood up and almost tumbled into his arms. He held her. Tightly. Lifting her up off the ground and cradling her into his strength.

  His lips brushed the tears from her face. His arms cradled her back.

  “You’re strong, Becs.” Zack’s voice filled with so much emotion that he almost choked. “You’re stronger than this. I know it hurts so bad, and I hate that I can’t somehow make the pain stop. But you’re going to make it. You’re the strongest, bravest person I know. I know who you are. I love who—”

  An unusual ringing filled the air. He set her down gently and pulled a large, clunky-looking phone from his belt.

  The screen read Unknown Caller.

  “Katie?” Zack called toward the hallway. “Okay if I answer this?”

  No answer from Katie. The phone was still ringing.

  Zack looked at Rebecca. “Sorry, I need to take this. It could be my commanding officer or Mark. I’ll be back. Promise. Just give me a minute.”

  He stepped outside the front door, leaving her alone again.

  Rebecca sank back into the chair, as if the air had been sucked from her lungs.

  Her past was a lie. Her present had been stripped from her. And as she watched Zack’s strong form stride away in his green fatigues, she knew she’d never have the future she dreamed of, either.

  A future with the only man I’ve ever loved.

  The computer beeped. She looked back at the screen. The website must have refreshed because now the blog was gone. Instead, red filled the screen under the word locked and a password prompt box. She hit the escape key, hoping to get back to the blog.

  The screen read Incorrect Password.

  And then up popped a second message, in tiny letters, just for a fraction of a second, but long enough for her to read the words.

  Hey, Becs. Really am sorry. Remember, you’re a winner.

  * * *

  “So, inform the powers that be that I’m on my way in,” Zack said, holding the phone to his ear. A breeze brushed his shoulders. His eyes rose to the canopy of green trees and endless blue sky. How long would he spend behind bars? Even when he was cleared, how long would he be grounded for? “I’m already in uniform, even. Just because that’s all I’ve really got left that isn’t ruined by the water. I’ll go straight to base and check in. I should be there in about nine hours.”

  “I’m really sorry about this.” Jeff’s voice cracked in his ear. “I’ll pull some strings to make sure there are no video or news cameras and that you’ve got a clear route in. Sorry I can’t do more. I have faith the matter will be cleared up quickly. But I can’t promise anything about your security clearance or your ability to stay with the task force. You were warned to stay away from Rebecca Miles and to extricate yourself from this entire situation.”

  Yeah, yeah, he was. But he’d been following his heart.

  Lord, even now my heart feels like a lion roaring inside my chest. And I’ve prayed to You to help me tame it! Now it’s tearing my life apart. And I don’t know what to do.

  He glanced back at the windows but saw nothing but his own reflection looking back.

  “What’s the update on Seth and Rebecca Miles?” Jeff asked.

  “Seth Miles is still missing. Rebecca Miles is staying at the safe house for now. If there really is a leak inside our own military and Black Talon managed to infiltrate our police force, I’m going to advise her to stay hidden until I’ve spoken with officials who can guarantee her safe extraction and due process.”

  Thankfully, Mark’s prototype phone would be untraceable.

  “You realize that you’re not doing yourself any favors if you walk in with demands?” Jeff said. “I strongly suggest you focus on one battle at a time.”

  He frowned. Rebecca had questioned whether or not he should even trust Jeff. The major had been Zack’s only source of information, and had certainly known their movements well enough to send Black Talon right to them.

  Had Zack been wrong to trust a man he’d served with for years?

 
“Yes, sir. But I’m afraid it’s nonnegotiable.”

  The phone beeped in Zack’s hands. He glanced at the screen. There was an incoming call with a British area code.

  “Hang on,” Zack added. “I need a moment.”

  “Understood. Call me back.”

  The line went dead. Zack pushed the call-waiting button. “Hello?”

  “Zack? That you?”

  “Mark! Hey, man! What are you doing in Britain? Your beautiful wife told me you were in the Middle East.”

  “I’m in the air over Europe actually, en route to Heathrow,” Mark said. “This little kerfuffle you’ve gotten yourself in made the international news. When I saw your name on the screen and heard you’d placed an emergency phone call, I caught the first plane out. I’m going to transfer in London and then head for home. Was just calling my wife to tell her I’ll be there in about fifteen hours.”

  By which time Zack would be in custody. “Sorry, I’m not going to be able to meet you at the airport. But just got off the phone with my commanding officer. I’m heading to base to turn myself in.”

  “I’m sorry, man.” Mark let out a long blow of breath. “That’s pretty lousy. Guessing it’s bad?”

  “Code-red levels of bad.”

  “Got it,” Mark said. Zack could hear the rumble of the airplane in the background. “This woman named Rebecca whose name was on the news with yours. She’s the same one you used to talk about? The one you’ve always been in love with?”

  The words hit Zack in the gut. It had been one thing to tell joking stories about the one perfect woman he’d known years ago. It was a whole different ball game dealing with her face-to-face.

  “Same woman, yeah. You can ask Katie all about her. They’ve been bonding.”

  “Stay brave. Stay strong. You’ll get through this.” Mark was talking again. Zack couldn’t tell if he was talking about facing arrest for treason, battling his feelings for Rebecca, or both. “If you could pass me over to my wife that’d be awesome.”

  “On my way.” Zack started back into the house. “Congrats on the baby news by the way.”