by Cindy Gerard
“Can you expand on that, sir?” This from Gabe Jones, who sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his bad leg outstretched, a sober look on his face.
“February 2011, Sergeant Albert’s detachment was headed back to home base after completing a mission in Pakistan. The small convoy was met with overwhelming Taliban forces,” Black said, nutshelling the situation. “Two survivors of the attack reported seeing Albert’s GMV get hit by an IED and later by an RPG. The witnesses were fighting for their own lives and barely escaped themselves. Both were one-hundred-percent certain Albert was dead.”
“And no one recovered his body?” Green sounded both skeptical and pissed.
“There were extenuating circumstances,” Black said. “One, the ambush took place in Pakistan, where ‘officially’ no U.S. military actions were supposed to take place. Two, before a detail could sneak back across the border to recover the bodies, a monster snowstorm set in. Add to that, beefed-up Pakistani forces on what had been a very porous border precluded the recovery of Albert’s body.”
“How bad does that suck?” Reed mumbled, and Mike knew every member of both teams agreed.
The room went quiet. It made sense, Mike thought. This mission was not going to be cleared with the Afghanistan government. They would never get permission, so they had to go in black. If things went FUBAR and any of ITAP or Black’s team were killed or captured, they could not be linked back to Uncle Sam. The U.S. would disavow their connection and insist that they were a rogue group, possibly mercs or private contractors hired by the sergeant’s family to explain away why Americans were running the operation.
“We all onboard so far?” Black asked the room at large.
He got nods all around.
Cooper had a question. “How the hell did Albert survive more than three years held by the Taliban? And why did they keep him alive in the first place?”
“That’s where it gets muddy,” Black said. “And this was not in the official report—for reasons you’ll understand when I’m finished. If we believe that the correspondence the Afghan woman gave the patrol was in fact written by our previously believed-to-be-KIA soldier, he’s the one who made the claim. And he states it wasn’t the Taliban that attacked the convoy. It was the ISI disguised as Taliban.”
“Why the fu—” Coulter cut himself off. “Why the devil would Pakistan’s secret service attack an American patrol? We all know that Pakistan only pretends to be our allies, but this makes no sense.”
“What about war has ever made sense?” Black pointed out. “In any event, Albert—if it is, in fact, Albert—stated that ISI held him captive. He further stated that it was while they were making a deal with the Taliban to exchange him for some Pakistani prisoners that he escaped. The woman maintained she found him near death and has been hiding him for several months. She also states that he has multiple injuries and medical problems sustained during his imprisonment and escape that have precluded him from making an attempt to contact U.S. forces himself.”
“And we’re taking her word for it?” Mendoza looked incredulous. “The guy has been listed as KIA for almost four years. Ask me, this screams setup.”
Black nodded. “It could be. But the blood sample she provided was a match to that on file for Albert. The hair follicles provided more DNA match. The letter he wrote—if he wrote it—is compelling. Add in the letters on the roof—” Black stopped and shrugged. “Additionally, the woman repeatedly requested that the extraction be made in such a way that she and her father were not implicated in hiding Albert. It was clear she greatly feared retaliation by the Taliban.”
“How did she think we could keep her out of it?” Taggart asked.
“She was going to hide him in a location away from her village and reveal the location when she made a second contact with the U.S. patrol. After several days of waiting, she must have decided they weren’t coming back and bailed.”
“Why didn’t the patrol come back?”
“They did, once they decided her claim was legit, but it was more than two weeks later, and like I said, she’d bailed. And to answer the next question, why didn’t they come back sooner? That’s still under investigation. Either someone dropped the ball, or there was a computer/network glitch at the FOB and they couldn’t immediately access their records of MIA and presumed KIA. As I said, it’s under investigation.”
“If they knew where he was, why didn’t they go get him?”
“Believe we covered that earlier. We were no longer looking at a clear-cut extraction in a remote location away from potential local casualties in case the situation goes hot. Now we presume he’s still in the village, and that’s why we go in stealth. Which means, if Albert is there we’ll have two additional extractions: the woman and her father.”
The room grew painfully quiet.
“We square?” Black glanced around the room again. “All right, then. Albert is one of ours. If he’s alive, we’re going to make damn sure he gets back home.”
Chapter 23
Northern Minnesota, late October
“HEY. YOU’RE BACK.” JESS WALKED out of the grocery section of the store and into Ty’s arms when he shut the door behind him. “Did their flight take off OK?”
Ty’s mom and dad had recently spent a week with them to get to know Jess and to celebrate the engagement and upcoming wedding. He kissed her. “They did. And they both loved you.”
“That street goes both ways.”
She looked so happy. And she’d handled his family well. Last month, after he’d called his big brother, Mike, to ask him to be his best man, both Mike and his wife, Eva, had dropped everything and made a quick trip to the lake to congratulate them and, as was typical of Mike, to give Jess dire warnings about what she was getting herself into by shackling herself to Ty.
She, of course, had loved Mike and Eva, too. Ty hadn’t figured it would go any other way. Jess was vibrant and happy and opening up to him and to life more and more every day. Her parents had even made a trip to the lake, and he’d seen where Jess had gotten her backbone and values.
He couldn’t believe it had been more than a month since she’d agreed to marry him, less than a month until their Thanksgiving wedding.
“Let’s not wait for Christmas,” she’d said two weeks ago, delighting him when he’d suggested they have a holiday wedding. “Let’s compromise and make it the Thanksgiving weekend.”
That worked fine for him. The sooner she officially became his wife, the better.
Since September, he’d been back to Florida twice. Once to hire an office manager to keep on top of things for him while he was here and a second time to make sure things were going smoothly.
Then he’d bought the float plane. She would be his winter project, but he had every intention of having her painted, spit-polished, and ready for the spring season. Jess had started advertising Kabby Charter Service on her Web site three weeks ago, and that had already generated several inquires.
Everything was coming up roses in the north land, and it was about to get even better. He’d been busting to get her alone to show her his big surprise.
“Come on. Let’s take a little ride. I’ve got something to show you.”
“I can’t leave the store.”
“Thirty minutes. That’s all I need. Put a sign on the door. Tell ’em you’ll be back at—” He glanced at the wall clock. “Four o’clock. Nothing’s happening this time of day, anyway. Come on,” he coaxed again when he could see her weakening. “You do not want to miss this.”
She gave him a studied look, then expelled a deep breath, and he knew he had her. “This better be good.”
He laughed and waited while she made her sign, taped it to the door, and locked up.
“YOU DIDN’T SAY anything about a blindfold,” she sputtered, after he’d gotten her into the Jeep and insisted she put on the sleep mask he’d bought for this occasion.
“What kind of a surprise would it be if you saw it coming?”
; “I repeat,” she sputtered, adjusting the mask. “This had better be good. And it had better not be another junker plane.”
“Have a little faith,” he said, grinning, and pulled out of the parking lot.
Ten minutes later, after several guesses on her part that had them both laughing, he pulled into a driveway.
“Sit tight. I’ll come around and help you out.”
“Is this all really necessary?”
Once she was out of the Jeep, he hugged her hard, kept his arm around her shoulders, and guided her down a crushed-rock path.
“I smell the lake,” she said when he finally stopped.
“And this would be why.” He tugged off the blindfold, then stood back and let her take in the large log house with its wraparound porch, the sloping lawn that led to a wide dock, and the brilliant blue waters of Lake Kabetogama.
She looked at the house, then looked at him. “What are we doing at the Owens house?”
“We’re not at the Owens house.” He smiled into her eyes. “We’re at our house.”
She blinked at him as if he’d lost his mind. He saw the moment the light began to dawn. And that’s exactly the expression that fit. A dawning, glorious light filled her eyes, then spread to a smile both disbelieving and hopeful.
She glanced back at the For Sale sign stuck in the ground by the mailbox, saw the Sold banner covering it. “Seriously? You bought it?”
“I bought it.”
She pressed spread fingers of both hands to her breast, looked out over the lake again, back at the house, then back at him. “You really bought it?”
He loved that look. Joy, amazement, love. “I really did.”
“Oh, my God, Ty. I’ve always loved this place.”
“I know. Shelley told me.”
Hers hand flew from her chest to her cheeks as she stared again at the house and the gorgeous view of the lake.
“Want to take a peek inside? I happen to have the keys.” He fished them out of his pocket and was about to hold them out to her when she flew into him so hard she almost took them both to the ground.
He laughed as he steadied himself and wrapped his arms around her. “Told you it’d be worth it.”
When she pulled back to look at him, tears filled her eyes. “This is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “And you are the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.” He kissed her then, long and slow and sweet. “We’re going to raise some babies here,” he said when he pulled away. “And if you keep looking at me like that, we’re going to start working on that straight away.”
This time, she laughed and grabbed his hand. “Come on. Let’s go look inside.”
LIFE HAD NEVER been sweeter, Ty thought later that night, as they lay in Jess’s bed after celebrating the purchase of their new home. He was one contented man. And the woman sleeping beside him was the reason.
A loud pounding on the front door of the store, however, cut into that contentment like a buzz saw. Bear sprang to his feet from the rug by the bed and snarled like his namesake.
Jess jerked straight up in bed. “What? What’s happening?”
“Go back to sleep. I’ll check it out. Somebody probably ran out of gas.”
On a yawn, he threw back the covers and reached for his jeans and shirt.
He was still buttoning up when he hit the bottom step and walked across the store to the door and looked through the glass.
The lights from the pumps backlit the silhouette of a man he’d recognize in pitch dark.
He undid the lock and jerked open the door. “What the hell?”
His brother, Mike, stood on the stoop. He was not smiling. Mike always smiled.
There was only one kind of news his brother would have traveled this far to deliver in person two weeks before he was due back at the lake to be best man at Ty’s wedding.
“What happened?” Ty’s heart slammed like a piston. “The folks? Oh, God. Did something happen on their flight?”
“No,” Mike said quickly. “No. They’re fine. Everyone’s fine.”
“Then what the—” Ty stopped, dragged a hand through his hair. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”
“I flew. Rented a car. None of that matters. Ty, let’s go inside. I need to talk to you. Both of you.”
When Mike looked over Ty’s shoulder, Ty knew Jess had come downstairs.
“Mike?”
“Hi, babe,” Mike said gently. “How’s it going?”
She tightened the belt on her robe and glanced at Ty. “Something tells me it’s not going well.”
“THERE’S NO WAY to say this but to come out with it.”
At Mike’s insistence, they’d walked up the stairs to the apartment. Ty and Jess sat on the sofa, their hands entwined. Bear, sensing his mistress’s distress, leaned heavily against her leg.
“Jess,” Mike sat across from them. “You need to brace yourself.”
Ty covered both of her hands with his. He could feel her trembling. Hell, he was shaking himself. “For God’s sake, Mike. Spit it out.”
Mike let out a heavy breath, then met Jess’s eyes. “We’ve got some pretty solid intel that Jeff is alive.”
For long moments, she didn’t react. She stared at him.
For long moments, Ty did the same thing, unable to process his brother’s words.
Shock and surprise transitioned to anger, which finally broke the echoing silence. “What the hell are you talking about?” Ty demanded. “Where is this coming from? And how can it be? J.R. was KIA.”
Mike lifted a hand. “It’s complicated.”
“I think we need to hear it,” Jess said quietly.
So he told them. “Two weeks ago, an Afghan woman approached a U.S. Army infantry patrol. She said she’d been harboring an injured American Special Forces soldier who had been held prisoner for three and a half years but had recently escaped. She gave Jeff’s name, his company, unit, and battalion, and she provided physical evidence. There was also a note, supposedly written by Jeff.”
“My God.” Jess looked as if she was in shock. Her face had drained to deadly pale, her voice sounded whisper-soft and thready.
“The woman was skittish, and the patrol was not in a position to go with her to her village, which was several kilometers away. She was also afraid of Taliban discovery. They were to meet up again at an appointed time the next week, but the patrol couldn’t make it, and when they finally got back, she was gone,” Mike continued.
“Why do you think she was telling the truth?” Ty had started to feel a little desperate. This wasn’t merely Jess’s life hanging in the balance of this discovery. This was his life. This was their life.
“The physical evidence. It matches Jeff’s military records.”
“It could be old. Three and a half years old,” Ty insisted.
Mike shook his head. “She had hair samples, complete with live follicles that indicated the samples were taken as recently as a week before testing.”
Ty’s head hit his chest. He closed his eyes. He could not wish a man dead. Even if that man’s existence could mean the end of the best thing that had ever happened to him.
“They never found her again?” Jess asked in a small voice.
“No. But drone surveillance of the general area spotted clear letters formed on a rooftop in a village in the general vicinity.”
“What letters?” Ty asked.
Mike told them.
Jess covered her mouth with a hand. “It’s him. My God. It’s J.R.”
Ty pulled her closer against him. “So he’s still out there? In some Afghan village?”
Mike lifted a shoulder. “We assume so. Two teams are going in on a recon and possible rescue mission.”
When Mike held his gaze for a long, hard moment, Ty knew the rest of the story. “You’re on one of those teams.”
Mike nodded. “We deploy tomorrow from Virginia at zero six hundred hours.
“Look,” he said when both Ty and Jess sat speechless. “I hate this, but I’ve got to head back. As it is, I’m on borrowed time, but I couldn’t let you hear about this from anyone but me. And word of the mission can’t get out, OK? That’s the way it’s got to be for now. I wish I knew what to say,” Mike added with a helpless lift of his hands.
Ty knew exactly what to say. “I’m going with you.”
Beside him, Jess gasped. “No. No, you can’t go. My God, Ty. You cannot go. Tell him!” She turned pleading eyes on Mike. “Tell him he can’t go.”
“Bro,” Mike began, preparing to argue.
“You’ve been trying to recruit me ever since you started your new unit,” Ty reminded his brother. “Well, now I’m saying yes.”
“This isn’t a good idea,” Mike insisted.
“What this is, is my life. Jess’s life. Our life. I don’t merely want to go. I need to go. I need to help bring him home. I want him back. Hell, he’s one of ours.”
Silent tears streamed down Jess’s cheeks. “You promised me. You promised me you wouldn’t ever fight anyone else’s fight ever again.”
“And I’ll keep that promise.” He gripped her hands in his and brought them to his lips. “But you know this isn’t someone else’s fight. It’s our fight. I have to go, Jess. You know I have to go.”
NUMB, JESS HUGGED her arms around herself, listening as Ty rifled around in the bedroom, tossing his things into his duffel.
J.R. Alive. Of course, she wanted it to be true. Wanted it with everything in her. Her mind had been racing, her heart sick, thinking about what he must have endured during his years of captivity. Mike said the Afghan woman told the patrol J.R. was injured. How badly? In what way? What horrible things had they done to him?
And what was she going to do if they brought him back? She loved Ty. But she was married to J.R. He would need support. He would need her support. As far as he knew, he had a wife waiting at home for him.
Tears filled her eyes.