Not Just an Echo (Piper Anderson Legacy Mystery Book 3)

by Danielle Stewart

“Let me up,” a voice yelled from a tent a few yards away. “Let me the hell up, or I’ll cut this damn leg off and beat you to death with it.”

  “Aiden?” she asked, her breath catching in her throat as he hobbled out from the tent, his back bent like a question mark as he emerged. Pushing past the guns still pointing at them she charged Aiden, flying into his arms and nearly knocking him over.

  “Easy,” he pleaded, wincing from the pain. “A couple of those ribs you’re hugging are cracked.”

  She cut his words short with a kiss, then a frenzied flurry of kisses, as tears streamed down her face. “How did you get here?”

  “Damned if I know,” a soldier said, coming out of the tent with a medic band on his bicep. “I’m Corpsman Styles,” he explained, rolling his eyes. “He should be dead, and he will be if he doesn’t lie back down. He’s lost too much blood.”

  Aiden swayed in her arms, the sweat that was beading on his head was now starting to trickle down his cheeks. “Sit,” she commanded, trying to guide him back toward the tent, but his knees buckled first, and he flopped backward. Corpsman Styles was there quickly, breaking his fall.

  “You two give me a hand,” he said to the men pointing guns at Amal. When they didn’t move he shouted again, “The girl says the kid’s clear; just get your ass over here before this guy dies in the dirt. I don’t know who he is, but by the sound of him, he ranks higher than any of us.”

  At that they reluctantly lowered their guns and helped lift Aiden toward the tent.

  “There are five people held up in a fort. I can give you the coordinates. They need an evac now.” Aiden’s voice was strong even though his body seemed to be draining by the second.

  “Sir, we’ve been ordered to evacuate ourselves. The last two helicopters are here for our men. It’s unstable, and our commanding officers want to regroup. We can get you two transported out of here, but any other mission will have to be ordered by someone higher up the chain than me.”

  “Get me a phone,” Aiden demanded. “Write down these coordinates and get me a damn phone before I pass out again.”

  “Sir, there is no one you’ll be able to call to change our orders,” Styles replied. “It’s the middle of the night, and we’ve already checked in with everyone in our chain of command.”

  “That’s pretty ballsy, considering you have no damn clue who I am,” Aiden scoffed. “Get me a phone, get your chopper ready for a rescue mission, and don’t give me anymore shit. Maybe you’ll still have your job tomorrow if you can handle all of that.”

  “Yes sir,” Styles said hesitantly then charged into motion. “Get this man a phone now.”

  “Aiden, what do we do?” Cosette asked as she knelt down next to his cot. Amal was at her side.

  “You did good, kid,” Aiden told Amal, the pain slipping from his face long enough to show genuine pride. “I told you to find her. I told you to get her here safe, and you did. I’m going to do the same for your brother now.”

  “They don’t seem as though they want to take your orders,” Amal said with a small smile.

  “I need you to promise me something else,” Aiden said, raising a tired arm to Amal’s shoulder as he knelt next to him.

  “Anything,” Amal agreed.

  “She gets on the helicopter no matter what. If I’m unconscious. If I’m dead. She gets a seat on the chopper. Get her home.”

  Amal nodded and smiled.

  “You’re talking about me like I’m not here,” Cosette complained, but she hardly meant it. Their bond was deeper than she realized and the fact that both could unite in caring for her touched her heart. This was what connection looked like. This was what real life looked like. Not what she was doing with Brandon back home. Raw. Real. Uninhibited emotion.

  “Get on that helicopter,” Aiden said then turned back to Amal. “Get a pen and paper from these guys and draw a map to the fort in case I can’t.”

  Amal nodded and jogged out of the tent obediently.

  “You’re going to be fine,” Cosette promised, even though she had no way to know. “They’ll get everyone from the fort, and we’ll all be out of here.”

  “Absolutely,” Aiden agreed as a lightning bolt of pain seemed to move through him. He winced and grunted as his eyes snapped shut.

  “Should I get help? Do you want the medic?” she asked as his hand clamped down on hers.

  “Don’t go,” he pleaded. “I’m all right. But I wanted to tell you something.”

  “I’m right here,” she said, squeezing his hand tightly. “I’m here. What is it?”

  “This was my last mission,” he explained. “They were forcing me out. You can’t do this job too long, or you become a liability. I held on longer than I should have, but I couldn’t imagine letting it go. I couldn’t imagine an ordinary life.”

  “I can’t imagine you with an ordinary life either,” Cosette laughed, then sniffled as her tears continued in a steady stream.

  “But as I was lying in the dirt, shot, thinking I might die, the first thing I saw was your face. I thought at first I had to keep going so I could save you. Then I realized the only reason I could keep going was because you were going to save me.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” she challenged, but he waved her off.

  “For the first time I could see myself doing nothing and being happy about it. I could see myself being a regular man and feeling like I’d done exactly the right thing. I don’t know if I’m going to get the opportunity, but if I survive this I’d like a chance.”

  “A chance?” Cosette asked, as his eyes closed again.

  “A chance to be with an extraordinary woman in an ordinary life.”

  Chapter 25

  “I’m Petty Officer Will Cummings. We’re going to get your people,” the soldier said with a wide grin. “Your guy called in a favor so high I’m surprised the Navy Seals aren’t about to drop out of the sky and complete the mission themselves. There are two helicopters. One is en route now. The other was already here and is taking off to retrieve your friends. Once they arrive back, we’ll refuel and transport everyone back to the States.”

  “Thank goodness,” Cosette said, feeling completely relieved. “What about the other cruise ship passengers who were on shore in Corinti?”

  “The shore has been cleared and all who survived were evacuated,” Will explained. “We’ve been patrolling here for some time and wanted to go over and assist but we were ordered to hold our position.”

  “Some didn’t survive?” Amal asked with a deep exhalation.

  “There were some shots fired and people lost their lives. One lifeboat capsized. There were some casualties from that as well. Luckily the militia group who fired on the Coast Guard were kept at bay by a second group who came in to protect the civilians. It could have been a lot worse.”

  “That group who protected them were the Kitu,” Amal explained. “You’ll see in the documents I provided that they orchestrated the threat and then made themselves the heroes.”

  Will nodded his head and raised his brows in surprise. “If that’s the case that’ll be crucial information for our government to know.”

  “You’ll see the people they slaughtered. You’ll see who sold them weapons. I know where their guns are housed. I know where their hideouts are.” Somehow, to Cosette’s surprise, Amal was explaining all he’d done and still not sounding arrogant, only concerned.

  “That’s impressive, kid,” Will replied, slapping him on the back. “And the guy in the tent. Who does he work for? When the orders came down to get your people out of the fort they wouldn’t tell me.”

  “I have no idea,” Amal admitted. Cosette shrugged too. “But he has done more for my people than anyone I’ve ever known. I owe him my life and the future of this island is in debt to him.”

  “We’re taking good care of him,” Will promised. “My ride’s ready. I’ll be back with your people soon. Then it’s time to get the hell out of here and let the chain of command figure out what
to do with this place now that you’ve shined some light on the truth.”

  The helicopter blades were humming in the distance as Amal and Cosette sat in the sand outside the tent. Every aspect of this tourist port was still intact. The slides, the zip lines, the blue beach canopies designed to protect people from what used to be the most dangerous thing here. The sun. Now a little pink skin would be the least of their worries.

  “How long have you been working with Aiden?” Cosette asked, still mulling over his earlier words.

  “We made first contact a few months ago,” Amal explained. “I had a radio line where I could reach him. It started off as very limited communications. Then one day he started asking me about my family. Wilkie and I were nearly caught once, and I couldn’t reach Aiden for over two weeks. I never knew if he really cared about what was happening here. I wasn’t sure if I could count on him until I finally reached him again. There was something in his voice I could never explain. It was relief. Excitement. I’m not sure. But I knew he cared. I knew I could trust him. We lost radio communication toward the end when the antenna I was using was destroyed. I didn’t know if he would still come.”

  “He’s a good man,” Cosette said, pushing her messy hair back from her face. “I think so anyway. I hardly know him.” She felt compelled to intertwine her optimistic words with caution.

  “I think you can know someone a long time and they can be a stranger. Or you can know someone for only a moment and understand them completely.”

  “If we’re lucky I’ll get more time to know him,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the tent.

  “When he asked me to find you,” Amal explained, his voice shrinking with bashfulness, “he told me if he died out there, I should make sure you were safe because the world needed you. I was to make sure you had a chance to be loved again. To laugh again. He said he saw something in you that had to be saved, protected, so that the world would have a chance to see it.”

  “He said all that?” Cosette asked, scanning Amal’s face for the truth.

  “He probably would have blamed it on the blood loss, but yes he said all that. And I agree with him. You have the heart that is missing from so many.”

  “Look at you two,” Cosette argued. “Look at what both of you have risked to help the greater good. You came back to find me. You saved my life. You are brave, infinitely brave.”

  “I’d say we are reckless,” Amal replied with a breathy laugh. “I’d say we are careless with our own lives in the pursuit of something we believe. Brave can often look stupid.”

  She nodded her head and smiled. “Wilkie will be so happy to see you.”

  Amal’s face dropped and he cleared his throat. “Wilkie will be fine. There is so much he still doesn’t understand, but he will someday. I can’t blame him for how angry he is, but I can picture him with a good life. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I do,” Cosette agreed, wrapping an arm around Amal. “He will have a great life. You both will.”

  “Amal,” Aiden called from the tent. “Amal.”

  “Coming,” Amal said, hopping up and wiping at a stray tear.

  “He’ll be a pain in the ass as long as he can’t get up,” Cosette teased. “We’ll be running all over to get what he wants.”

  “I can hear you,” Aiden barked back. “I could still die. You might want to be nicer.”

  Cosette dropped her head down on her folded arms and laughed. It started as a small chuckle and grew to a full belly laugh. Nothing about this was funny. She was likely delirious, suffering from shock. But right now, the intensity of emotions made her feel so much more alive that the idea of going crazy felt good.

  Chapter 26

  Michael watched his wife’s eyes flutter and hoped whatever dream she was lost in was a happy one. Even Clay had dozed off now, which helped considering Michael was going off script. They had agreed they would wait until tomorrow night and go toward the shore for help. But Michael knew if he went alone and didn’t make it, at least his family would have more chances at success.

  Waiting until tomorrow night might also mean that the help to evacuate the shore was already gone. It had to be just him and it had to be tonight. Wilkie had drawn him a map that would take him along a path with a lot of coverage, but through difficult terrain. Another reason he was glad to be going by himself. Watching Jules slide down that shale hill, cutting and scraping her skin, had sent shock waves through his chest.

  She was the nucleus of their family. It wasn’t easy to admit he was the backup parent. Jules was on the front line. From dirty diapers to the first broken heart, she was who their kids reached for. The super powers had all been endowed to her. Sensing bad dreams before the first cry. A cold before the first cough.

  His hands were always too big to manage those tiny nail clippers and the kid’s wiggly fingers. But Jules could do it with her eyes closed. That was how everything in their house worked over the years. She glided through parenthood, seeming to know what the kids needed before they did. It was easy for her to balance what the books said, what her mother told her and what her gut knew to be true, and somehow all that information wove together like a quilt she could wrap the children in.

  Michael wasn’t blind to the fact that after repeating herself a dozen times she’d raise her voice. But that wasn’t where motherhood lived. It wasn’t in the frustrated moments born of sleepless nights. The commitment of motherhood, the way Jules fulfilled it every day, was like a poem he never tired of reading. His children would be less without him in their lives, but they would be lost without her.

  It made the idea of leaving her here without a goodbye something he could swallow. He shimmied his way out the small opening at the side of the fort and replaced the rocks. The night was alive with cawing birds and chirping and hissing bugs. It had been a long time since he wore the uniform of a Marine, but some things came pouring back to him quickly, filling his limbs as they began to operate with muscle memory. He descended the hill that they’d all struggled to climb earlier, and when he reached the bottom he followed the small waterway back to the sea. The weapon Wilkie had given him was tucked into his belt, and the cool steel should have been shaped like an anchor rather than a gun because the weight of it continued to tug at him. The idea of being forced to use it practically dragged him into the earth.

  Sliding as quietly as possible, Michael made his way down the hill and paused at the spot where Jules had lost her footing. Lit only by moonbeams, he saw a smear of her blood across a rock under his foot.

  A far off noise drew his attention as he crouched low and looked for cover. The hill was wide open, and he was halfway down it. He needed to run full force down to the path leading to the shore or go back to the fort. The humming of an engine grew closer, and Michael was sure the repetitive chopping sound was blades of a helicopter.

  It could be the one belonging to the Kitu that had buzzed by the cruise ship upon their arrival. Or it could be help. Either way he’d need to get back to the fort. Turning on his heel and getting his footing, he began to charge up the hill. If this was the Kitu, if they had discovered where he and his family had taken refuge, he’d have a fight on his hands. One where he’d surely be outgunned. But if this was the salvation Aiden had left to find, all of this would be over. His future rested on this.

  Ducking the vines and brush at the side of the fort, Michael caught his breath and pulled the gun from his belt. Waiting for the chopper to get closer, he found himself picturing his children as infants. They had transformed him from a man into a father, and he knew no matter what happened the best pieces of him were still alive.

  When the helicopter was so close the chugging of its engine was deafening he lifted his head and drew in a deep breath. It was hovering over the fort now and Michael could see it was a military helicopter with the United States flag painted on the side. The Calvary had arrived.

  Rolling the rocks away from the small opening, he moved as quickly as he could to the top of the fo
rt where Jules had been sleeping. Surely she was awake, the commotion impossible to ignore.

  “Jules,” he called down the dark stone hallway that would lead him to her. As he rounded the corner his wife cocked her fist and punched him square in the nose.

  “You jackass,” she hollered as she shook her fist to get rid of the ache her punch must have caused. It certainly caused him pain. “You were leaving? You weren’t going to say goodbye? You weren’t going to talk it over with the rest of us?”

  “I was going to the shore before whatever evacuation that was taking place was over,” Michael explained, pinching the bridge of his nose to try to alleviate the pain. “Did you just sucker punch me?”

  “You’re lucky Clay took the cast iron pan away from me when he heard you calling my name.”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” Michael said as he pulled them all toward the opening, leading them to the roof of the fort. “It’s the military. Our military. Aiden must have made it to Torrella Bay. We’re all right now. We’re going to be all right.”

  They all spilled onto the roof and were instantly assaulted on many fronts. The noise was ear piercing, the wind from the helicopter blades sandblasted their skin, and the bright light shining down nearly blinded them.

  “We’re dropping down a harness and a line. We’ll lift you up one at a time,” a voice called from a loud speaker on the helicopter.

  “Come on,” Betty said to Wilkie, moving him to the front of all of them. “You first.”

  “You should be first,” Wilkie protested, trying to move behind Betty, but she held him place.

  “Because I’m old?” Betty asked, raising a challenging brow at him. “I know that’s not what you mean. You are getting on that helicopter and you are getting on first. Don’t argue with me, child.”

  And he didn’t. The harness came down one time. Then another. And again until Michael was the last one to be lifted from the fort and into the helicopter.

  “That’s everyone,” he shouted as he tumbled in and pulled a shaking Jules into his arms. He showered her with kisses. Grateful kisses. Apologetic kisses.