Backlash

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  “The pieces I’ve heard have been pretty interesting.”

  Not wanting to hurt her anymore, he said, “First, I need to tell you why I brought you here.” Kel took her hand now. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Someone called the hospital a couple of weeks ago claiming to be my father.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened.

  “I didn’t find out about it until right before I was released from the hospital,” he told her. “Whoever it was wanted to know when I was getting released.”

  “Did the hospital tell him?”

  Kel nodded. “When they asked for some of my personal information, he was able to answer their questions. They didn’t have any reason not to believe he was really my father.” Kel hesitated now. “Marilyn, one of the questions the nurse asked him was where I lived.”

  “I still don’t understand.” She shook her head. “Why would someone pretend to be your father?”

  “No one’s quite sure, but I’m afraid someone might be targeting me for some reason.”

  Marilyn looked down at their joined hands for a moment and then pulled her hand free. When her gaze shifted to his face once more, he expected to see her concern reflected there. He hadn’t been prepared for the hurt or the tears in her eyes. “This whole time we’ve been here was just your way of keeping me from going home.”

  Kel stared at her, suddenly unsure what emotions he was facing. “Do you understand what I’m saying? I can’t be sure our house is safe right now.”

  “I see,” Marilyn said quietly, her tone distant. She stood up and stared down at him with tears still swimming in her eyes. “I should have known these last few days were too perfect. I don’t know why I let myself believe that you brought me here just because you wanted to be with me.”

  “I did want to be with you,” Kel insisted, now feeling like he was standing in a minefield and couldn’t find a safe spot to step.

  “Be honest, Kel. Would you have brought me here if that man hadn’t called the hospital?”

  The truth was in his eyes as he looked at her, and he knew it. Slowly, he shook his head, and then he stood up and managed to close the distance between them. “And I’m sorry I didn’t think of it before. I should have.” He put a hand on her shoulder and stared down at her. “And I have loved this time we’ve had together. But I’m worried, too.”

  Marilyn swiped at the tears on her cheeks and gave him a little nod. “Maybe it’s time we head home.”

  “Honey, I don’t want you to be back at our house until we can be sure who it was that called the hospital looking for me.”

  “You don’t want me to go home?” she asked now, as though logic were finally breaking through her emotions. “For how long?”

  “I don’t know,” Kel admitted. “I was hoping my guys could take care of the problem while we were here, but they haven’t seen anything suspicious.”

  “Maybe there isn’t anything suspicious to be seen,” Marilyn suggested. “I mean, who would come after you?”

  “We think it might be someone from a past mission.”

  “Do you know who?”

  Kel shook his head. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. When we go on missions, no one knows who we are. None of this is making any sense.”

  “You don’t really expect us to stay away from home until you figure out who this guy is, do you?”

  “I don’t know.” Kel turned her hand over and linked his fingers with hers. “But I think we need to wait a bit longer before we go back.”

  “Kel, we can’t afford to stay here for long.”

  “I know.” Kel rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “The reason Tristan came to see me wasn’t just to tell me what was going on. Brent set us up with temporary quarters at the base in Norfolk while I’m going through physical therapy.”

  “Kel, I know you’re worried, but I really want to go home. Don’t you?”

  “Marilyn, home is wherever you are.” Kel leaned forward and kissed her. “Please, do this for me.”

  She sighed and then stared at him a moment, considering. “One month. Promise me if this isn’t all taken care of after a month, we’ll go back home.”

  He hesitated. “I don’t know if I can make that promise.”

  “You can put in whatever security system you want. I don’t care, but I’m tired of living out of suitcases.”

  “Okay,” Kel agreed reluctantly. “One month.”

  15

  “I think I found something,” Quinn said, tipping back in his chair. “There was an article about Kel printed right after he was shot.”

  “What?”

  “In his hometown newspaper. There was a little blurb about him being injured and that said he had been transported to Bethesda for treatment.”

  Brent’s dark eyes narrowed. “How did the story get into the paper?”

  “Who knows? I checked with public affairs, and they said it definitely wasn’t authorized,” Quinn told him. “Some reporter must have caught wind of him getting injured and dug up some basic info.”

  “That would explain how someone would know he was there but not who it was that is looking for him.” Brent considered for a moment. “Did it say where he was injured?”

  “Said it was a training accident,” Quinn answered. The date of the article was only three days after Kel was shot. His eyes lifted to meet Brent’s. “You don’t think Ramir could have figured out that we were the ones who came into Nicaragua for Seth and Vanessa, do you?”

  “I don’t know how.” Brent shook his head. “Intel reports indicated that Ramir thought it was the drug lord, Morenta, who kidnapped his niece.”

  “That was then,” Seth said. “Vanessa told me that intel picked up on another conversation between Ramir and Morenta. Apparently, Morenta admitted that he hadn’t kidnapped Lina Ramir after all and told Ramir that she had been captured by Americans.”

  “And Akil Ramir believed him?”

  “Apparently so. Besides, the CIA already leaked a story that Lina was arrested again and is back in prison here in the United States. That was the only way they could let Vanessa stop pretending to be Lina while still keeping the possibility open in the future.”

  “Now that would be interesting.” Quinn shifted to look at Seth. “A Navy SEAL’s wife playing with terrorists and drug lords.” He gave Seth a little smirk. “Conversation around your dinner table will never be dull.”

  “I don’t think the word dull is in Vanessa’s vocabulary.” Seth’s features relaxed into a smile.

  “Have you set the date?” Tristan asked now from the other side of the room.

  “Four weeks from Saturday.”

  “That’s quick.”

  Seth laughed. “I’ve known her for twelve years. I hardly think this is quick.”

  Seth’s phone rang, effectively interrupting the conversation. His side of the conversation was a series of “okays” and “thank yous,” but when he hung up, his face was serious. “That was Vanessa. Her old boss just called to tell her that one of Akil Ramir’s men was spotted on an airport surveillance video.”

  Brent nodded to him. “Go check it out.”

  Without a word, Seth left the room.

  * * *

  Halim stared out the back window, impatience shimmering from him. They knew. Somehow the commander knew that he was waiting for him. Two days had passed since he was supposed to arrive home, and still there was no sign of life on the other side of the fence. At least, not the life he had expected.

  Every night he saw them come. Or rather, he sensed them. He couldn’t be sure exactly who the men were who moved through the darkness and checked out the commander’s house. He only knew that they were quiet and thorough. Knowing that he was expected had caused him to alter his plans. An accident would have been so easy—a gas leak followed by an untimely explosion. But these men checked for that. He was sure of it.

  As he stared into the darkness, he knew that it was time to call in some help.
r />   * * *

  “Home sweet home,” Kel said lightly, as he pushed open the door of their temporary quarters. He knew it wasn’t what Marilyn was accustomed to, but at least he knew she would be safe while his squad sorted things out.

  Marilyn stepped through the door and shifted the suitcase she carried from one hand to the other. She wandered past the tiny living area where a couch was pushed against a wall across from the single desk with its matching chair. She then entered the bedroom and set the suitcase down before turning back to face him. That was when she noticed the stack of boxes on the desk.

  “What’s this?” She moved to the desk, her eyes narrowing as she read the labels. “Computer equipment?”

  “I know you said you took off from work, but there probably won’t be a lot for you to do here,” Kel told her. He wasn’t sure how she was going to feel when she found out how much money he had spent. Or rather how much money he had given Tristan to spend on his behalf. “It’s a splurge, but I thought this would help us both stay sane over the next few weeks.”

  Marilyn looked up at him, still not understanding.

  “I bought you a laptop.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened, and she put a hand on the box in front of her.

  “I hope you’re not mad,” Kel said, hoping to ease the shock. “But it’s such a hassle for you to pack up your computer every time we go anywhere. You really need a laptop, even if you don’t realize it. Besides, you seemed to like using the one you borrowed from the Whitmores.”

  To his surprise, she didn’t start her standard lecture about saving money. Instead, she asked, “What’s in this other box?”

  “A printer.” Kel moved closer and pulled out a pocket knife to open it for her. “It was one of those package deals. You know, buy a laptop and get a printer for free.”

  Marilyn watched him cut open the box and pull the new laptop free. When he set it down, he was surprised to look up and see tears in her eyes. His surprise magnified when she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

  Kel’s hands came up to rest on her waist, unsure what to think of her reaction. “You’re welcome.”

  She leaned back so she could see his face and gave him a watery smile. “I almost went out and bought one for myself after you were injured, but I couldn’t bring myself to spend the money.” She reached up and kissed him.

  Kel smiled at her now. “There’s supposed to be Internet service here. I thought maybe you’d let me borrow it every once in a while.”

  Marilyn cocked her head to the side and considered. Then she grinned. “Maybe.”

  * * *

  “We’ve already checked the house out a dozen times,” Tristan said from the passenger seat of Seth’s car.

  “And I’m coming with you this time to make sure you didn’t miss anything,” Seth told him as he parked the car half a block away from Kel’s house.

  Jay Wellman leaned forward and stared out the window as the two men in front of him studied the darkness. He had made this trip at least once every day since Commander Bennett had been released from the hospital. Other than slicing his hand when he’d picked the lock to the commander’s house, this duty had become routine. “What are we looking for?”

  “Anything out of place,” Seth said simply.

  Jay stared out into the darkness, wondering how these men could tell what was supposed to be there on the dark street and what they would consider suspicious. A minivan was parked in front of the house next door to the commander’s. A streetlight was shining brightly into the neighbor’s yard. Several cars were parked on the street. Jay already knew from his previous visits that the little blue compact two houses down belonged to a neighbor’s teenage daughter. The pickup truck in front of it hadn’t been moved over the past week.

  Many of the yards were adorned with mature trees and various shrubs. Ornamental pear trees and azaleas seemed to be the favorites, although their blooms had long since come and gone. A motorcycle approached them, causing a couple of dogs to bark as it passed.

  “Anything?” Seth asked.

  Jay knew the question was aimed at Tristan. He was still just the new guy they had brought along for the ride.

  Tristan shook his head. “Nothing that we haven’t seen before.”

  “Let’s go.” Seth pushed the door open and climbed out.

  Jay got out, as well, and moved to stand beside him. Not for the first time, Jay considered that he wouldn’t want be on Seth’s bad side, especially in a dark alley.

  As though talking were suddenly taboo, Seth signaled Tristan to circle to the front of the house. As soon as Tristan complied, Seth signaled Jay to go through the back gate. Jay took a few steps, glancing back to see if Seth was following. That’s when he saw it. A movement in the shadow behind a neighbor’s tree, followed by the reflection of the street light off of something metal.

  The sight of a predator here in this sleepy neighborhood was so surreal that Jay almost didn’t react. Then his instincts kicked in, and he dove for Seth.

  “Get down!” Jay tackled him around the waist as the first gunshots whizzed through the air above them. Both men scrambled for cover. They only made it three steps before more gunfire sounded, this time coming from Tristan, who was now in the front yard of the commander’s house.

  Heart pounding and eyes wide, Jay ducked behind a large utility box. His breath came in quick gasps, and his eyes shifted from side to side until they landed on Seth, who was behind a mature oak tree. He was squatting down, his back pressed against the trunk, a pistol in his hand.

  For a brief moment, Jay wondered if this was a training exercise. The day before, Seth had suggested that Jay start carrying a sidearm. Jay hadn’t seen the need, at least not when they weren’t on a mission. Getting the concealed weapon permit and dealing with the hassle didn’t seem worth it. Could Seth and Tristan be trying to teach him a lesson?

  Lesson or not, his heart was racing, and the adrenaline pumping through him was real. He took a steadying breath and tried to remember the intensive training he had gone through such a short time ago. Relax, he told himself. His senses were keen; he just had to remember to use them.

  He took another breath, smelling the freshly cut grass, the neighbor’s roses, and traces of his own aftershave. A siren was barely audible in the distance, and he could hear the slight rustling in the bushes across the street.

  Focusing on Seth, he saw the signal. He also saw his eyes and knew. This wasn’t a lesson they were trying to teach him. This was real.

  Jay shifted to make room for Seth, and a moment later another burst of gunfire sparked as the intruder reacted too late to stop Seth from joining Jay behind the junction box. Seth pulled up his pant leg and took his spare weapon from the holster strapped to his calf.

  “When I tell you, dive for cover that way.” Seth motioned to the left. “I’ll go to the right.”

  “Then what?”

  “Tristan has our back,” Seth assured him. “Whoever gets a clean shot, takes it.”

  Jay took a deep breath, nodding as he let it out. “Okay.”

  “Stay low,” Seth reminded him. Then he whispered, “Go!”

  Weapon in hand, Jay dove toward a nearby tree, crawling the last few yards. Gunfire sprayed in their direction once more. Before Jay could even shift to take aim, Tristan stepped out and fired two shots. Then the night was still, except for the approaching sound of sirens.

  16

  “What do you mean, it’s not improving?” Kel asked the doctor, trying to stay calm. He had been going to physical therapy faithfully for two weeks and was convinced that he was getting stronger. Now the doctor was unraveling that belief. “I thought I was supposed to be in physical therapy for at least a month before I was evaluated.”

  “That was our initial plan, but when I realized that the swelling keeps recurring, I wanted to take another look,” the doctor told him. “I don’t want you to waste your time in physical therapy when you really need
to be spending that time recovering from surgery.”

  “Surgery?”

  “My diagnosis is that you have a torn ligament. If I’m right, you aren’t going to recover completely without reconstructive surgery.”

  “How can we be sure that you’re right?” Kel asked. “I haven’t even had an MRI.”

  “We can’t do an MRI because of the gunshot wound,” the doctor reminded him. “It’s too risky.”

  Kel considered this for a moment, “But you think I can fully recover with surgery?” Kel looked at him. “Enough to go back to my squad?”

  “I can’t give you any guarantees,” he said. “The general rule of thumb is that the injured leg should regain 85 to 90 percent of its presurgical strength.”

  “But 90 percent might not be enough for me to do my job.”

  “SEALs tend to have more physical demands than other disciplines in the service, but you’re also in better condition starting out.” He gave a shrug. “It’s possible.”

  Kel blew out a breath, processing the doctor’s words.

  The doctor waited for a moment as Kel absorbed the news. Then he continued. “We will go in and take a look using arthroscopic surgery. If there is a tear in the ACL, we would then take a graft from your patellar tendon and reconstruct.”

  “How long for recovery?”

  “We’ll keep you overnight in the hospital, and then you’ll be on crutches for about a week,” he told Kel. “As for complete rehab, you’re looking at a minimum of four to six months, but it will probably be more like six to eight.”

  Kel closed his eyes for a long moment, his jaw tensing. Then he looked at the doctor once more. “How soon can you get me scheduled?”

  “Next week.” The doctor hesitated and then added, “But to get you in that soon, you’ll have to go back to Bethesda.”

  Kel took a deep breath as he considered the implications. He had promised Marilyn he would take her home in two more weeks, one way or another. Now he would likely be just getting off of crutches when their month was up. Feeling cornered, Kel nodded. “Get me in as soon as you can.”