Mission--Memory Recall

by Virginia Vaughan

Milo poured himself a mug of coffee from the pot Marcus had made earlier. He joined Marcus at the table and flipped through a couple of folders. “Finding anything?”

  “No, nothing. These files may as well be talking about someone else. I waited for so long to find out who I am and now that I know, he’s like a stranger to me.”

  He pushed the files away as he lowered himself into a chair. “This isn’t you, Marcus.”

  “It’s my service files.”

  “Maybe this is who you used to be, but it’s not you anymore. You’ve been through too much.”

  He took a sip from his mug. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Bethany told me some things about myself, things she knew about me, and I didn’t like them too much. If they’re true...let’s just say I’m not looking forward to discovering I’m some kind of villain.”

  “Even if you were, who cares?”

  “The federal government for one. I might be a deserter and a traitor.”

  “I can’t believe that. It’s not who you are. I don’t believe people change that much. What you’ve been through, your ordeal, the gunshots and nearly dying... Those kinds of things bring out the real character of a person and they’ve only brought out the good in you.”

  “Maybe, but the evidence...”

  Milo tossed a folder back into the box. “This paperwork isn’t going to tell you who you are, Marcus. You need to reconnect with yourself, like the way you have with Bethany. When you’re with her, your memories seem sharper. Your true colors shine through.”

  Marcus saw where the older man’s line of thinking was going and grabbed hold of one thought. “You’re right. I had more of a reaction after a few minutes with Bethany than I have the whole four hours I’ve been pouring through these files. I need to connect with the people who knew me.”

  He dug through and found his service folder, then flipped it open to reveal his home address and next of kin. “I have a mother and a sister living in Waco. And if I had any personal items, the army would have shipped them to them.” There was no photo of his mother or sister in his file and, to his frustration, he couldn’t conjure up one image of them. On a whim, he entered the address into the GPS on his phone and realized they lived only a three-hour drive away.

  It was time he let his family know he was still alive.

  “That’s a good place to start. At the beginning.” Milo stood. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye, son. Marie will be sore if you do and I’ll have to listen to her yacking.” He gave Marcus a smile that told him the man cared deeply for his wife.

  Marcus smiled back. He’d loved spending time with these two and watching how much they respected and appreciated one another. For him, they were a perfect example of what a godly marriage should be and he’d prayed one day he’d fine something similar.

  He started to assure Milo they wouldn’t be leaving until morning since Bethany was asleep in the bedroom, but a noise outside stopped him. He held up a hand to quiet Milo and heard the rustling of movement through the window.

  Marcus dropped the box and picked up his gun. “Someone’s outside.” He rushed to the window and peeked through the curtain. A light shone in the distance and he spotted the telltale red laser of a scope searching for its target.

  Bethany appeared in the doorway, now fully awake and on alert, her weapon drawn, having obviously heard the movement or seen the laser scope. “He’s here. He found us.”

  Milo hurried through the door to his home then reappeared with his shotgun.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Marcus told him. “He’s not after you. Get Marie and go down into the basement and stay there.”

  “I can’t leave you two to fight off this guy,” Milo insisted.

  “We have Bethany’s SUV packed and ready to go. He’ll follow us.”

  Milo looked like he was about to argue the point, and Marcus was just as determined that his friend wasn’t going to get involved in this fight, when a bullet ripped through the window, shattering the glass. Marcus hit the ground hard and the bullet whizzed past him. It slammed into Milo’s chest.

  “No!” Marcus shouted, anger pulsing through him as Milo slid to the floor.

  He heard a woman scream then saw Marie appear in the doorway, having obviously seen her husband fall from the other side of the door. “Get down,” Marcus hollered at her, but a moment later, another bullet whizzed through the window and ended her cries. She slumped over her husband and there was no doubt in Marcus’s mind that neither would be getting up again.

  Shock, grief and anger swept through Marcus. This hadn’t had to happen. They shouldn’t have had to die. They were innocent of everything but trying to help him.

  Bethany touched his arm and only then did he realize she was shouting at him. He hadn’t heard her over the loud roar of his own rage sounding in his ears.

  “We have to get out of here,” she said. “He’s got us pinned down.”

  But Marcus felt reason flow right out of him. He wasn’t running away. The enemy was in front of him and had taken two people that he cared about. He would make him pay.

  He grabbed Milo’s shotgun and spun, firing through the window toward the direction from where he’d heard the shot.

  Silence filled the night and for a moment Marcus thought he’d hit the sniper. Then he heard a click and a whir that he immediately knew spelled trouble.

  He grabbed Bethany’s arm. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, running through the door and into the main house as the whistle of a rocket-propelled grenade heading their way grew louder. The RPG hit the house and the ensuing explosion shook the ground, sending them both flying. Marcus hit a wall with a thud and slid to the floor. His ears were ringing and smoke filled the room as he frantically searched for Bethany. He found her on the floor, covered by the coffee table and a slew of books.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked hoarsely as he dug her out.

  “I’m fine,” she answered, coughing at the smoke filling the room. She dug through the rubble and retrieved her gun.

  “The garage,” he said, motioning her toward the back of the house.

  She nodded and followed him, limping slightly on her left foot.

  A rush of thankfulness spread through him when he kicked open the door to the garage and saw Milo’s truck undamaged by the explosion on the other side of the house. He grabbed the keys Milo kept by the back door, helped Bethany in then climbed inside and started the truck. He hit the garage opener but nothing happened; the power was out from the explosion. That didn’t matter. They were getting out of this place even if that meant he had to ram the garage door off its rails.

  Bethany checked her weapon. “I’ll give us some cover fire.”

  He nodded. Bracing himself for the next few moments, he whispered a quick prayer for their safety and also for Milo and Marie, before jamming the accelerator to the floor and flying out of the garage, taking down the door with the pickup.

  The shots started coming from near the apartment and Marcus realized the shooter had come looking to finish them off. He jammed the truck into Drive and took off as Bethany leaned out the window and returned fire until they were out of range.

  He stared at the house in the rearview mirror. The roof had collapsed and flames were licking at the walls that remained standing, bursting forth into the still, dark sky through various openings. The air in the truck smelled burnt and he realized they were both covered in the smoky stench. He looked at Bethany. Blood was trickling down her face from a gash on her forehead and she had been limping on her ankle, but he didn’t think she was seriously injured. Neither was he. They’d both made it out intact once again.

  He looked back into the mirror and a pang of agony churned through him as he remembered not everyone had made it out. He drove for several miles until he was certain they weren’t being followed. Pulling the truck over to the side of the road, he stopped.


  “What are we doing?” Bethany asked as he got out. Without answering, he opened the toolbox on the back of the truck. He knew Milo had kept a first-aid kit there and he quickly found it. Bethany was bleeding and that wound needed to be attended to. He opened her door and riffled through the kit until he located a roll of gauze. Tearing off a piece, he leaned down and gently dabbed her head with it.

  She winced then took it from him. “I can do it.”

  He nodded. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” He focused on her ankle. “You were limping before,” he said, running his hand down her leg and pulling it to him. He raised her jeans-clad leg and saw that her ankle was bruised and swollen. But there were no bones sticking out, which was good, and she had been able to put some weight on it back there.

  “It’s a little tender,” she admitted. He pressed his fingers around the swollen part, finding a spot that made her gasp in pain. “Okay, more than a little.”

  He cracked open an ice pack and placed it on her ankle. “This might help.”

  “Thank you,” she said, shivering when his hand brushed the smooth skin just above her injury. He glanced up and saw compassion shining in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry about your friends,” she said softly. “They seemed to be very nice people and it was obvious they cared for you.”

  His clenched his jaw at the memory of seeing first Milo and then Marie fall in front of them. He’d watched the light slip from their faces and, although he knew they were both in a much better place, his heart broke that they’d had to suffer such an indignity as being shot down in their own home.

  He nodded and, when he spoke, his voice was just as raw and hoarse as his heart felt. “They were. They didn’t deserve to die.” He tossed the first-aid kit onto the seat then walked back around the truck and climbed inside. “It’s nearly daylight. We should get some food then find a place to rest for a while. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

  She sat up, curious. “What drive? What are you talking about? Where are we going?”

  “You gave me three days to find answers, remember? Well, I’m not going to sit around answering Sheriff Mills’ questions during that time. I’m going to find the truth on my own.”

  “But all my files are back at the house, probably destroyed. How do you even know where to go?”

  “I was looking at my service file when the sniper attacked. I remember the address.”

  “Whose address? Where are we going, Marcus?”

  Milo had advised him to start his search at the beginning and that was exactly what he was going to do. “My family lives in Waco. I’m going home.”

  Five

  A hot shower was just what she’d needed to soothe her sore muscles. She hadn’t realized when she’d started her search for Marcus that finding him would place her in the battle zone.

  But then again she hadn’t honestly believed she would find him alive. The past eighteen months she’d spent searching for him and chasing down leads, she’d never truly been convinced she would find a living, breathing person. But the hunt had been what had kept her going when she’d wanted to give up on living and wondering how she could go on without Marcus, despite their brief time together. Even her family had noticed the way she’d changed. She recalled her sister’s words to her at a family dinner.

  It’s time to move on, Lisa had told her. He’s gone. It’s time to get on with your life.

  But Bethany had been stuck in the eternal question of why this had happened. It all seemed like a cruel joke perpetrated against her by the Almighty for His own entertainment. And her family’s strained attempts to pacify her with Christian rhetoric like “God uses all things for His purpose” did little but turn her heart away from the Lord.

  She stepped outside her hotel room and tapped on Marcus’s door, opening it and walking inside when he responded to do so. He was sitting on one of the double beds, his boots on the floor beside him and a book open in his lap. She moved closer and saw that it was a Gideon Bible he’d obviously taken from the hotel nightstand. She shook her head as she glanced over it. His Bible had been left in the jail cell the night of the shooting. She’d seen for herself how intensely it had been studied. It shouldn’t surprise her that he was seeking comfort from its words, but it did. After all they’d been through, it baffled her how Marcus would have such faith.

  He doesn’t remember, she reminded herself. He doesn’t know the full extent of what God had taken from them both. It was the only way she could wrap her head around it.

  She peeked out the curtain into the hotel parking lot. Everything looked normal and she didn’t see any suspicious activity, but she knew from experience that just because she didn’t see signs of danger didn’t mean it wasn’t present.

  “Relax,” Marcus told her. “We took precautions. We checked in under assumed names, made sure no one was following us, and I parked the truck where it can’t be seen from the street. We’ll be safe here tonight.”

  Yes, they’d covered all bases, but she was still on edge.

  “Feel better?” he asked, referring to her shower.

  She nodded and curled up in a chair opposite him. “Much better.” She motioned at the Bible on the bed. “And you?”

  He sighed. “Trying to. It’s not always easy to remember God is on my side. Some days, like today, it seems He’s not.”

  She couldn’t argue with his reasoning. She hadn’t seen much evidence that God was around, either.

  He picked up the Bible and stared at it. “I just have to remember it may not always be obvious, but God is always here with me no matter what I face. When I forget, it helps to seek His promises. Exodus 14:14. ‘The Lord will fight for you. You need only to be still.’”

  She rolled her eyes. “If we’d remained still tonight, we would both be dead. Besides, you’re a soldier, Marcus. You were trained to take action, not sit around waiting on someone else to fight your battles.”

  “When I was traveling back to the US, even then I was aware of a higher power that was watching out for me, guiding me, keeping me safe from harm. My life in His hands. I have no idea what my faith looked like before I awoke in that village in Afghanistan. Was I a believer? Or was I hostile toward God back then? I do know for certain that I wouldn’t be here today without the intervention of the Almighty God.” Exhaling roughly, he turned to look at Bethany. “Do you know I traveled across the entire country of Iran with no identification?”

  Her eyes widened in shock. “No... I had no idea.”

  “If I’d been stopped or captured, I would surely have been killed, but I wasn’t. I made it through without a single incident that threatened my life.” His voice cracked with emotion as he continued. “He guided me then and He brought me safely back to the US...and now He’s taking me home. I’m going to see my family again. If that’s not proof of God’s existence, then I don’t know what is.”

  Bethany stared at him. Had she ever felt such a connection to God before? She couldn’t remember if she had. Her family had been in church every Sunday for as far back as she knew, but she couldn’t recall even one time she’d felt God’s presence the way Marcus had during his journey.

  She did not bother telling him that he had never seemed particularly religious to her before the ambush. That probably wasn’t what he wanted to hear and she really couldn’t say for sure that it was a true statement. Perhaps he’d been very religious and she hadn’t gotten to know that part of him. She might have discovered it if they’d had the time to get to know one another. She grimaced at that thought, remembering that it was God who had allowed them to be separated in the first place.

  She couldn’t argue that it was impressive what he’d been through to return home. And he was right. He was returning home to see his family. But was that truly God’s doing? She’d been the one to agree to let him go. She could have taken him straight to Langley and let them sort
all this out. Shouldn’t she be the one he was thanking instead of God?

  And while Marcus was making his journey across the globe, she’d spent the past few years living in limbo while she’d searched for her own answers. Her quest had always led her to only more questions. If God had been guiding Marcus, bringing him back home, then what had He been doing for Bethany?

  Erecting roadblocks everywhere she went and wasting her time following up on leads that went nowhere, that’s what.

  She released an angry breath. She had spent the past year pedaling like a hamster on a wheel in vain with nothing to show for it. And why would a kind and loving God separate them two years ago only to bring them back together now under these untenable circumstances? As far as she was concerned, God was not fighting for her.

  And now, despite Marcus right in front of her, Bethany felt more alone than she’d ever been. She went back to her room and fell asleep wishing she knew for certain one way or another if she could trust him.

  * * *

  He could see last night’s conversation was still weighing heavily on her as they stopped the next morning for a quick breakfast before continuing. Yet as he sat across from her munching on a sausage and biscuit, she tried to pretend she hadn’t been affected by his words about faith and God. She seemed so hostile toward faith and that bothered him in a way he couldn’t fully comprehend. Why should it matter to him what her relationship with the Lord was like?

  He knew the truth of his question. There was so much more to their relationship than she’d shared with him. He felt it every time he was with her. She’d already alluded to the fact that he’d hurt her when he’d left, but he suspected it had more to do with just his supposed dying in Afghanistan. Had his death somehow driven her away from God? Or had she never been there at all? And what did that say about his relationship with the Lord preambush?

  “I want to show you something,” she said, pulling up Facebook, scrolling through then handing her phone to him. “It’s your sister Shannon’s profile page. I thought you might want to look through it before we arrive there.”