by Grady, D. R.
“That program is tough to get into.”
“Yes and Tory Maxwell got in on her own merits. Not with the help of Mommy, or Daddy, who is of course, part owner of Maxwell Consultants,” which made most of the men drop jaws, because that company was one of the top investment firms in the country, if not the world. They also provided aid to developing third world countries, were heavy on charity, and wielded massive power.
“This girl was ripe for the taking,” Cox muttered, his tone angry.
“Her secret service agent is dead,” O’Riley said grimly. “The only thing we’ve got going for us is that her parents also hired a private bodyguard for her. That bodyguard has gone missing. He’s a former Army Ranger and is listed as loyal and stubborn.”
“He’s with her?” Ben hoped the man was with her.
“We don’t know, but that’s what we suspect. From all accounts, he’ll cooperate with you, once you identify yourselves. What we don’t know is whether or not they know he’s along for the ride.”
“Could he be working with them?”
“Doubtful.”
“Why would he go along?” Riesen asked.
“He’d go if he thought they’d take their aggression out on him, rather than her,” Cox said.
The men all nodded, and Ben knew that was because down to a man, they’d all do the same thing.
“Miss Maxwell is very smart. She has a reputation for cooperating with her parent’s bodyguards, because she realizes she’s a tempting morsel to most crazies out there. Also, she realizes how powerful her parents are, and she’s not willing to cause them any strain, so she obeys.” O’Riley’s lip rose slightly. “She apparently also realizes she has a tendency to be scatterbrained.”
“The Ranger would know all this stuff,” Beaumont said.
“Yeah. His name is... Jason Addison. He comes highly recommended from the Army. His retirement came after his leg was shot off. Which means he’s running on a prosthesis.”
“What’s his mobility?”
“He runs, he jumps, he plays. Apparently, he’s worked at this until you can’t tell that leg isn’t his,” Admiral O’Riley said.
“That’s impressive.” Riesen sounded slightly awed.
“He’s former Special Operations for a reason, gentlemen.”
“We need a plan. A couple, actually,” Ben stated.
“A couple?” the admiral asked.
“One with Addison’s help, and one without,” Ben answered.
“Right,” Admiral O’Riley said, standing. “If you need me, you know how to contact me. Have a nice flight, gentleman.” He exited the plane.
The engines revved to power, and Ben felt that thrill he often experienced at the start of an assignment. But with this was the realization that while any of the other SEAL teams could have rescued this young woman, his squad was the best one for the assignment.
While he loved Treeny and Janine, he also loved his job. At this point, he needed the opportunity to make this work. Because he wanted it all. He wanted his job, and Treeny. The biggest problem was figuring out how to mesh his two lives so none of them would go insane.
***
“Dr. Deveau, could you take a look at this patient please?” Vanessa appeared in the doorway.
“That’s my job, Vanessa,” she commented wryly. But the nurse’s lips didn’t curl up in amusement. Her dark eyes remained shadowed, her full lips pinched.
Frowning, Treeny followed her into the examination room. A woman lay on the table, which was strange. Her skin appeared ashen, and she clutched her head, as though in intense pain.
“I’m worried,” Vanessa whispered.
“What’s wrong?” Treeny whispered back. She tugged on a pair of gloves and as an added precaution, removed a mask from the cupboard, which she handed to Vanessa. She took another for herself and adjusted the protection over her mouth and nose.
She carefully examined the woman, asking her questions as softly as possible, but their patient still reacted as though she used a bullhorn. Her heart rate was galloping, her neck stiff, and her temperature climbed while she kept shielding her eyes. They dimmed the lights.
“Ms. Livingston, why didn’t you go to the Emergency Room?”
“Didn’t hurt this badly before.” Her lips curled up in every semblance of agony.
“What do you do for a living?”
Her patient struggled to comprehend the simple question. “I’m a kindergarten teacher,” she finally gritted out. Treeny reared back. Oh no. A woman in contact with young children. Since they had no idea what this was, but Treeny entertained some daunting suspicions, she directed Vanessa, hoping they’d be able to quarantine the woman quickly.
“I’ll call the hospital to get quarantine set up.” Vanessa was already a few steps ahead of her. Treeny nodded.
“Call the CDC too,” she requested, but the nurse had already raced through the door.
“I’m on it.”
Treeny continued her examination, not liking what she discovered. She pulled a lab order sheet up and marked off some of the tests she wanted run on this patient. Frowning again, she scooped up the phone and called the lab.
“Hello, Yvonne? Yeah, can you come to examine room 104? Please bring vials for the following tests,” and Treeny rattled them off.
“Dr. Deveau, we don’t do house calls.” Treeny heard the humor in her voice. She was too concerned to reciprocate.
“Unfortunately, today you do. Oh, and Yvonne?”
“Yes?” The amusement had disappeared from the woman’s voice.
“Wear full protective Tyvek,” she added, and said goodbye before she hung up the phone.
Her patient still clutched her head, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Treeny’s heart went out to the woman. This could be anything from a severe migraine to meningitis to a brain tumor. She hoped it was the former.
Vanessa stepped softly back into the room. “I called the school too and they’re watching all the kids for severe headaches.”
Treeny stared at her. “What about the CDC?”
“I’ve alerted them, but I’m sure they’ll want to talk to you.” Vanessa’s eyes swept over their patient.
“Let’s see if we can make Ms. Livingston as comfortable as possible.”
Vanessa bit her lip. “Quarantine will be here soon. Are we going to go with her?”
Treeny glanced at their patient clutching her head, involuntary tears spilling down her cheeks. “Probably.”
***
Ben and his team eased through the hole they’d made in the roof and melted into the shadows before Lanford, on point, relayed the route was clear.
“Okay,” Ben said softly and they moved with steady care but secretly through the building. They had located the room where Tory Maxwell was kept. The interesting part was the space contained another silent figure, and Ben felt certain the terrorists didn’t know about him. Him hopefully being Addison.
Cox was set to intercept him, and give Addison the same equipment they carried. The three SEALs in the building would be joined by the former Army Ranger. Two men remained outside to guard, and still two more monitored the entire building from a van outside the perimeters. Ben listened via their headsets as Cox did indeed intercept Addison.
“Cox, you and Addison in position?” Ben asked after the exchange.
“Yeah. Addison knows his stuff. He’s already taken out two men.”
“Excellent. Let’s get the package and get out.”
“Gotcha, boss,” Shively’s response was laconic, but Ben heard the same excitement in his team member’s voice he felt.
Grinning, he silently dropped the guard at the door, and Cox and Addison moved into the room, neutralizing another man who entered from the opposite doorway.
Addison stalked to where the woman lay tied to a bed. He shook her, but with no response, he looked briefly fierce, before slashing the bindings holding her. Bruises dotted her arms and face, and her bottom lip was split. One of her eyes
had swollen shut and her clothing lay in tatters.
Ben watched her chest closely and saw the gentle fall and rise. Miss Maxwell breathed. She slept so silently she appeared dead. He suspected drugs aided her sleep. Addison placed a protective suit on her they carried for this very purpose.
When Addison moved to pick up his client, Ben shook his head. He indicated Cox, who glided forward and easily scooped the woman up. They stealthily made their way back through the series of halls and rooms to the roof. Beaumont and Ben took the woman Cox handed off and aided each man through the hole. Cox took her back once they cleared the small space.
“Did you set the detonators?” He directed this question to Shively.
“Sure did. This baby is ready to go as soon as we clear out.”
“Good, let’s go. We have the package,” Ben announced to the rest of the squad.
Lanford and Lessay guarded the roof as they alighted, and Ben was impressed with Addison’s adept maneuverings. The man might not have his own leg, but that fact wasn’t apparent. The bodyguard moved with the casual grace of a man who’d made peace with the world but didn’t mind starting a war if he needed to. You’d expect this in a Spec Ops guy.
As soon as they entered the van, and Cox set Tory Maxwell down, Addison was there, cleaning her wounds and checking for a response. The only indication the man might have more feelings than just bodyguard/client for the young woman was the intensity that radiated from him. Otherwise, his movements were efficient and precise. His touch impersonal.
Beaumont assisted him in cleaning her wounds. She stirred and Beaumont stepped back, allowing only Addison in her direct line of vision. The SEALs all drifted back a step or two, so she’d see a familiar face when she came to.
“She won’t panic,” Addison assured them.
“Everything we’ve learned about her indicates she’s not the type,” Ben agreed softly, but his team still remained out of sight.
“Jay?” she mumbled and her eyes fluttered.
“Tory, I’m here, you’re safe.” He took her hand.
Ben and his team watched as she opened her eyes and looked at her bodyguard, and then all of them. “What did you do, call in a posse?” Her voice was weak, but humor still laced her words.
Addison grinned. “No, I didn’t have to. Your mom called in the SEALs. I just tagged along for the ride.”
“You weren’t there, when they took me.” Ben saw fear in her eyes. Addison pressed her hand, and she blinked.
“I was there. I had you in my sight the entire time.”
Her eyes filled with tears, “You saw what they did?” Ben swallowed. He had a good idea what had happened, but that was her business. His eyes slid to her bodyguard. Evidently Addison had witnessed what happened, if the stiffening in every muscle was any indication. Ben couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to watch and not be able to do anything. A cool head would have been close to impossible to maintain, but Addison had managed.
The pain in her voice hit Ben pretty hard. He had cousins her age, and if anyone ever hurt them like they hurt this woman...
Addison’s face blanked. “They won’t ever hurt you again,” he promised in a calm voice that didn’t fool Ben. Glancing around the van, he noticed the other men’s faces indicated they weren’t fooled either. The terrorists would never do anything evil ever again.
“Fireworks, due south,” Shively announced and they all turned toward the action.
The crumbling building where Tory Maxwell had been held captive exploded in a burst of flame, littering the area with ash and debris. No one ran from the imploding building. Nothing stirred, in fact. Only the remains of the building and its contents settled in a pattern around the base of where the building had stood. Most of the structure imploded, collapsing on itself in slow motion. Once the dust cleared, and only a few groans were heard from the settling debris, they all watched for any survivors or reaction.
“Spectacular, guys,” Ben commended as Lanford fired up the van and they left the scene.
“Thanks, Commander, we try,” Shively said and, palms meeting at his chin, pretended to blush. His goofy action put the semblance of a smile on the young woman’s face.
“You blew them up?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“We blew up the building.” Ben kept any other facts to himself.
“In your nightmares, you’ll be able to remember seeing the building blow. You can’t ever be held there again,” Lessay said, when he hunkered down to her level. Ben noticed they were probably around the same age. The young SEAL had a few years on her, but not many.
Babies, but both were already trained in a deadly form of combat. The secrets inside the woman’s head alone would be enough to scare anyone.
“We’ll take you home to your mom,” Addison promised, but to their surprise, Miss Maxwell shook her head.
“No, take me to Lindsay,” she said and gulped in a breath.
“Okay. Wherever you want to go.” Ben frowned at Addison. Who placed a finger over his lips and nodded. Ben nodded in understanding, but he didn’t understand, for certain.
“Tory, you’re probably feeling tired from the drugs?” She nodded at Addison’s question. “It’s okay to sleep. We’re here, and nothing’s going to happen to you, okay?”
“You’ll take me to Lindsay?” Ben saw her knuckles whiten where she gripped her bodyguard’s hand. He didn’t even wince.
“Yes.” Addison didn’t raise his voice, and there was no inflection at all, but even Ben believed him. She relaxed into sleep and Addison turned to him.
Ben handed him a drink, which he heartily accepted and Cox dug around in a cooler and extracted a sandwich and some chips he handed over to the man who eagerly accepted the fare. “I’m not taking someone’s lunch am I?”
Shively shook his head sadly. “This means we won’t get thirds. We could waste away to nothing, you know.”
“There’s one in every bunch isn’t there?” Addison took a huge bite of the sandwich.
Ben grinned. “Yeah. Now, where and who exactly is Lindsay?”
“Lindsay Maxwell is Tory’s cousin. She lives in a compound—” Addison began but Beaumont, whose eyes widened, cut him off.
“Lindsay Maxwell, the weaponry expert?”
“Yeah, both girls inherited their father’s brains, because both of them think in terms of military and mechanics and numbers. Even though Tory’s brain leans more toward biochemical engineering, she’s still interested in warfare.” There was a touch of pride in Addison’s voice.
“Isn’t Lindsay Maxwell’s compound rumored to have never been penetrated?” Ben pulled that fact out of some miscellaneous file in his brain.
“Supposedly. One of the admirals in your branch has tried to take SEALs there for training. So far, the compound’s nabbed every one of them. There’s only one man who can slip in and out undetected, and we suspect it’s because he grew up with Lindsay, so he knows how her brain works.”
“Right, Admiral O’Riley’s mentioned that compound before,” Ben muttered, finally figuring out where the information had come from.
“No wonder Miss Maxwell wants to go there,” Riesen said.
“If a SEAL can’t penetrate the compound, there’s no way a terrorist can.” Ben grinned. “Although, I’d like to see whether O’Riley could manage his way in.”
The men chuckled. “Like that’d be a fair fight. I hear Lindsay Maxwell is beautiful and brainy,” Beaumont said.
“Yeah, and since O’Riley is only brainy, I don’t know,” Shively inserted, which elicited a torrent of sandwich wrapper and empty cans thrown at him.
“Like I said, there’s one in every crowd.” Addison stared at the sleeping woman. “And I agree Lindsay’s the best place for her. I’d better call her parents.”
“They can meet her there.” Ben handed him a phone.
Mission accomplished. Now he’d return home, to Treeny.
Chapter 30
“Quarantined?” Treeny heard
her sister Rachel’s voice rise and grinned, even though she wasn’t feeling all that lighthearted.
“Yes, ma’am. Until we know what this patient is suffering from, we’ve quarantined the exposed staff until such time as the tests come back. All the tests,” the senior doctor explained, again, to her distraught sister.
“But...but is she okay?” Treeny wanted to jump to her feet and rush to console her sister, but she was afraid by doing so, she might set the simmering panic to a full boil. Which with a very sick patient, and she and Vanessa in confinement with her, they didn’t need.
“I can assure you Dr. Deveau is fine. This is a precaution, but there is no reason to believe your sister will also contract the illness,” Dr. Youthers said calmly. He had expressed this same statement a few times already, in the same composed manner.
“Then why can’t I talk to her?” Rachel’s panic was palatable, even from two or three rooms away.
“After she’s finished with her patient, I’ll have her call you,” he replied, kindly, Treeny thought. Rachel sounded like she was ready to crack and that would bring out the best of Dr. Youthers’s caring instincts. Treeny and Vanessa were still removing their suits after checking on Ms. Livingston, but they could hear the conversation from the garbing room.
“Would you, please?” Panic crept through Rachel’s tone.
“I’ll be happy to have her call you. Truly we are concerned, but none of us feel this is contagious.”
Treeny heard Rachel take a deep breath and prayed she took control of herself. She wanted to comfort her sister, but was unable to do so in-person without possibly infecting her or her family. Hopefully the first person Rachel called would be Will. He’d manage to calm her sister down in about five seconds.
“Your sister sounds awfully concerned.” Treeny caught Vanessa’s amused glance as they stripped off their Tyvek suits.
“Yeah, well, your mama wasn’t any better.” Treeny’s lips quirked.
“She was ready to rip this place apart.”
“Yep. Which is why it’s so good Dr. Youthers is handling that part.”
“Right. Did you notice how my mama looked at him?”