Backlash

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  “Report to Bethesda at 0800 Monday morning,” the doctor told him. “The nurse will have your paperwork faxed up there for you.”

  Discouraged, Kel stood and headed for the lobby. His limp was nearly gone, and he had been hopeful that this meeting was to inform him that the doctor was lifting the restrictions on his activities so he could get back to work. A knot settled in his stomach like a rock that wouldn’t go away.

  When he stepped outside, he saw Brent parked at the edge of the parking lot leaning against a government car. “Are you waiting for me?”

  Brent nodded. He opened the passenger door for Kel. “We need to talk.”

  Afraid that his already bad day was about to get worse, Kel let out a sigh. With a shake of his head, he limped forward and got into the car.

  As soon as Brent slid behind the wheel, Kel asked, “What’s going on?”

  “Someone took a shot at Seth last night outside of your house.”

  “What? Is everyone okay?”

  Brent gave a wry grin. “Except for the shooter.”

  “Do you have an ID?”

  “Nothing official, but Seth recognized him,” Brent told him. “He said he only knew him as Imran, but he remembered him from when he was undercover with Vanessa at Akil Ramir’s fortress.”

  “Why would Ramir come after me?”

  “I don’t know,” Brent answered. “We found an article in your hometown newspaper that mentioned your injury and that you were at Bethesda Naval Hospital. Maybe Ramir found the article and figured out we were the ones who took Vanessa and Seth from his fortress.”

  “And since Ramir thinks Vanessa is his niece, you think he’s out for revenge?”

  “Stranger things have happened.”

  “Or maybe he’s looking for some leverage to get her back.”

  “You think he would try to kidnap a naval officer?”

  “Like you said, stranger things have happened.” Kel rubbed a hand over his face. “If Ramir really is behind this, he’s going to send someone else.”

  “I agree,” Brent nodded. “I also think it’s time we stop playing this defensive game and figure out a way to take care of Ramir once and for all.”

  “Brent, we both know it’s too dangerous.” Kel tapped the crutches in his lap as though demonstrating the obvious concerns.

  “Kel, we may not have a choice,” Brent insisted. “If Vanessa hadn’t stumbled onto one of Ramir’s moles the day they had planned the last terrorist attack, half of Arizona wouldn’t be habitable right now. It’s time we take some action and stop these threats, or at least slow them down.”

  “I agree with you, but you have to know that the bureaucrats aren’t going to approve a strike on foreign soil.”

  “I guess I’ll have to convince them.”

  “Good luck with that,” Kel said, now not sure if he should be relieved or worried that their superiors were unlikely to approve such a mission. Shifting gears, he thought of his own security concerns. “I wanted to ask you for a favor.”

  “Name it.”

  Kel took a deep breath and relayed what the doctor said and then proceeded to explain what he needed Brent to do for him. Finally, when he was done, Brent asked, “Are you sure about this?”

  “No, but I have to do something.” Wearily, Kel shook his head. “Marilyn doesn’t understand what we’re up against.”

  “It may be time you make her understand.”

  “I will,” Kel agreed. “After everything is ready.”

  * * *

  Marilyn lifted two bags of groceries from her car and headed for the door of her current residence. She had put off doing any real shopping, hoping that Kel would finally decide they could go back home, but after two weeks, she realized they needed more than a gallon of milk and a few boxes of cereal.

  Even though their temporary apartment was small, it wasn’t as bad as she initially expected. Of course, that was largely due to the laptop Kel had given her and the predictability of her husband’s routine.

  Each morning she drove Kel over to the hospital for his physical therapy. He had made arrangements to get a ride each day from the hospital to the office building where he was currently working for some admiral. Then, at the end of the day, Marilyn went back to pick him up at his temporary office.

  With Kel gone during regular office hours, Marilyn had slipped into her own routine. As soon as she returned home from dropping Kel off, she booted up her laptop and got to work. She was nearing the end of this novel that had taken on a life of its own. Most days she managed to write for three or four hours before taking a lunch break. Most of her afternoons were spent visiting Heather in Virginia Beach or going for a walk to help her thoughts settle before going back to her story. Then every day before she went to pick up Kel, she made sure she saved her file and turned off the laptop.

  She wished she could print out her new pages to look over them on paper, but she didn’t dare. It was bad enough to know that her previous version was still hidden in her sock drawer at home. And she knew this version was significantly better.

  Marilyn was so pleased with her latest story she even considered submitting the manuscript to a publisher, under an alias, of course. The agent she had sent some writing samples to a few months before said she could use a pen name to protect her privacy. He also said that he wanted to see her novel when she finished it. She had read enough articles about writing to know that having an agent interested in her work was a huge accomplishment.

  Part of her wanted to share the dream, the possibilities with Kel, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Logically, she knew he was always supportive of everything she did, but this was different. Her writing was like a window to her deepest fears, her darkest secrets, and her biggest dreams. She wasn’t sure she was prepared to open that door, even to her husband.

  Juggling the groceries in her hand, she pushed open the door and stopped short. Kel was sitting at the desk reading something on the laptop. Her mind raced. Had she closed the file she had been working on? Could he be reading her writing? She mentally retraced her steps before she left the house. She thought she remembered closing down her manuscript file and turning off the computer, but doubt lingered as she closed the door behind her.

  Kel looked up and forced a smile. And Marilyn’s tension hiked up another notch.

  “What are you doing home already?” she managed to ask.

  “I got a ride home after I met with the doctor today.”

  “You met with the doctor?” Marilyn asked, her tension taking on a new focus. “What did he say?”

  “I have to report back to Bethesda on Monday,” Kel told her. “For surgery.”

  “What?”

  “The doctors think I have a torn ligament.” Kel swiveled the chair so he was facing her. Wearily, he shook his head. “If they’re right, I’m looking at about six months of recovery time, give or take.”

  “Kel, I’m sorry.” Marilyn set the groceries down on the coffee table and crossed to him. Leaning down, she touched her lips to his. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Tell me I’m not crazy for thinking I can make it back.”

  “Kel, people have this surgery all the time.” Marilyn lowered herself down and sat on the couch so she was facing him. She didn’t want to think about him going back, but she forced herself to say the right words. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  He was quiet for a moment now. “Fine as in ‘I’ll make it back to the teams,’ or fine as in ‘You’ll finally get your wish that I’ll have to leave the SEALs’”?

  Marilyn sucked in a breath. “I don’t know.” She pushed up to stand. Letting out a sigh, she held her hands out to her side and let them drop. “I want you to get better, really I do.”

  “But . . .”

  “But I love knowing that you’re going to be here every night and that I don’t have to worry that the phone will ring and you’ll disappear for who knows how long.”

  “So it would be better fo
r you if I didn’t get better.”

  “It might be better for us,” Marilyn ventured.

  “I can’t believe you really think that.”

  Marilyn felt her eyes sting with tears. She hated seeing Kel hurting, but she didn’t know if he could ever understand what a nightmare it was to live most of her life without him, always waiting, always wondering. Her voice was soft when she said, “Maybe this happened for a reason.”

  “Yes, it happened for a reason,” Kel said now. “I was shot because I okayed a risky mission, a mission that ultimately saved thousands, if not millions, of lives.” He moved toward the door. “But you don’t have to worry about me going behind enemy lines again. If your prayers are answered, this surgery won’t work well enough for me to have the chance.”

  “Kel . . .” Marilyn took a step toward him.

  “I’m going for a walk.” Kel pulled the door open and let it rattle closed behind him.

  All Marilyn could do was let the tears fall.

  17

  Kel swiped at his eyes, willing back the tears that threatened. He didn’t know how many hours he had been standing here, leaning on the railing of the pier and staring out at the James River. It had been daylight when he’d left the apartment. Now only the last remnants of sunlight remained.

  Not for the first time, Kel wondered where he had gone wrong. He wasn’t the only member of his squad who was married, yet Brent's and Tristan’s wives appeared to fully support their husbands’ careers. Their marriages seemed so much tighter than his, their relationships so much more in tune with their spouses. Kel didn’t know if it was because Marilyn was the only one of the wives who wanted her husband to change careers or if perhaps the fault somehow was his.

  If he tried hard enough, he could remember the fun, spontaneous days of his courtship with Marilyn. He could remember the way they laughed together, the way they had shared their dreams. She had wanted to see the world with him, to search for adventure, and someday share a family with him. Now she only wanted to stay home, with him by her side. Kel wished he understood why Marilyn rarely accompanied him anywhere, why she usually found an excuse to send him to social events alone.

  Looking back, he knew he probably should have dated Marilyn longer before getting married, but he had been without family for so long. He had seen her as the answer to his prayers, the person who could help him rebuild his life and help him create a family of his own. He wasn’t sure how he would describe his relationship with Marilyn now, but the word family no longer came to mind.

  Did he love her? Yes. Did she complete him? No. She had once, or at least she had started to. Then the deployments had started bothering her, and the little disagreements had blown up into major fights. He knew he shouldn’t be so hurt by her admitting that she didn’t want him to go back to the teams. She had said those words so many times to him before. But this time it was different. This time she was willing to hope that he wouldn’t become whole again in order to get what she wanted.

  And what if she did get what she wanted? What if he was forced out of the navy, forced to take a disability discharge? What then? He couldn’t imagine going to work in a regular job. He couldn’t say why, but the thought of donning a suit, driving in rush hour every day, and going into an office from nine to five terrified him. Perhaps it was his irrational fear of how his parents died in just such an environment, or maybe it was the idea of being closed inside all day. Regardless, he hoped and prayed he wouldn’t have to learn to conform to something he had been avoiding his entire adult life.

  His thoughts were interrupted when he heard his cell phone ring. He nearly silenced it without looking, assuming that it was Marilyn calling him again. His training wouldn’t allow that simple act of selfishness, and instead he pulled his phone out of his pocket to check caller ID. He blew out a breath when he saw that the call was coming from a Pentagon prefix.

  Hoping his voice sounded professional, he hit the talk button. “Commander Bennett.”

  “Evening, Commander.” Admiral Mantiquez’s voice came over the line.

  “Admiral,” Kel said, in lieu of a greeting. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m heading your direction tomorrow. We need to meet.”

  “Yes, sir. When and where?”

  “Oh eight hundred at the officer’s club at Norfolk,” Admiral Mantiquez told him. “Do you need me to send a car for you?”

  “No, thanks. I think I can manage to get there on my own.”

  “Good. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir.” Kel hung up the phone, his brow furrowing in confusion. Why would the admiral want to meet with him? Could he have already heard about his impending surgery? Kel took a deep breath as another thought invaded his mind. Could the admiral have already decided to drop him from the teams?

  Kel pressed his fingers to his eyes, trying to will away the doubts. Letting out a sigh, he turned and started toward his temporary quarters and wondered if he would ever be able to get his life in order again.

  * * *

  The worry was back, gnawing at her stomach. She wanted to go out and look for Kel, but she didn’t have a clue where he might have gone. Of course, she never really knew where he went when he left, but this time was different. Tonight she expected him to come home . . . eventually.

  Marilyn paced to the window and looked out into the darkness. Seeing nothing outside but parked cars and the glow of her porch light, she lowered herself into a chair. She closed her eyes, replaying her earlier conversation with Kel. In many ways it had been so much like the arguments that had surfaced when Kel had to deploy. So often she had suggested he leave the SEALs, usually as he was about to walk out the door.

  In the past, Kel had been insistent that his involvement was critical. Today had been different. His confidence was lagging, Marilyn realized now. He wasn’t standing tall anymore. He was no longer ready to take on the world and anyone in it that might get in his way. Over the past few weeks, she had begun to see a vulnerability she had rarely seen, except when he spoke of his family. That vulnerability seemed to be deepening, creating insecurities in Kel that were completely out of character.

  She wasn’t helping, Marilyn realized. Her own needs, her own insecurities were crippling both of them.

  Tears welled up again as she looked at her watch and a new realization dawned. In the past, she had always been terrified that a knock would come at the door, that someone would be standing on the other side to tell her that her husband had been killed. Even now, after nearly twenty-five years, she could remember the shock of having the policeman come to her door to tell her and her mother that her dad had died.

  Tonight it wasn’t the fear of having that moment repeated; there was a new fear. The understanding that for the first time, it wasn’t the possibility that Kel would be unable to return home to her but rather that he might be unwilling to come home.

  Her cell phone rang, and she quickly answered it without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”

  The voice on the other end wasn’t Kel’s but rather her mother’s. “Hi, sweetie. Is something wrong? You sound upset.”

  Marilyn took a deep breath and let it out as she tried to steady her voice. “Kel just found out he has to have surgery on his knee. He’s pretty upset.”

  Her mother’s voice turned hopeful. “Have they decided to give him a medical discharge?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Marilyn shook her head and stared blankly out the window. “He’s praying he can still recover, but it’s going to be at least six months before he can return to his unit.”

  “At least that will keep him home for a while,” Barbara reminded her.

  “I’m starting to think that isn’t such a good thing,” Marilyn admitted, regretting her words the moment they were out of her mouth.

  Barbara’s voice took on a cynical edge. “What do you mean? Of course it’s a good thing.”

  “Mom, Kel’s miserable being stuck at home all the time. He hates know
ing that his squad is moving on without him,” Marilyn reluctantly confided in her. “It’s awful seeing him so miserable.”

  “At least he’s alive.”

  “Yeah, he’s alive.” Marilyn sighed.

  “Let me know how the surgery goes,” Barbara told her.

  “I will,” Marilyn agreed, still struggling to keep her voice steady. “I’ll talk to you later.” Marilyn hung up the phone as the worry continued to gnaw at her.

  A tear spilled over, followed by another. She took a deep breath and prayed for strength as she considered what she had to do. Somehow, she had to find the strength to support Kel the way he needed her to. The doorknob turned, and Marilyn quickly stood up and faced the door.

  Kel stepped inside, flipped the lock, and turned out the porch light before glancing in her direction. When he did turn toward her, his expression was guarded, his eyes weary.

  Marilyn didn’t try to hide the tears this time. “Kel, I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” he said without any real feeling. He waved a hand in the direction of the laptop. “Do you mind if I use the computer for a while? I have an early meeting tomorrow I need to get ready for.”

  “Of course you can use it.”

  Kel gave her a curt nod and pressed the power button. He then sat down and turned away from her.

  Marilyn could only stare as the knots in her stomach tightened. He was home, but this time the loneliness didn’t disappear the moment he walked through the door.

  18

  Kel stepped into the officers’ club fifteen minutes early, but he wasn’t there for more than a minute or two before Admiral Mantiquez walked in behind him.

  “Good morning, Admiral,” Kel greeted him and shook the older man’s hand.

  “Morning.” Admiral Mantiquez motioned for Kel to follow their waiter and then nodded to Kel as he settled into his chair. “Have a seat.”

  Kel lowered himself into the chair opposite the admiral. Already certain that his future with the teams was on the line, Kel got right to the point. “I assume you’ve already heard that I’m scheduled for surgery on Monday.”