Call to Honor

by Tawny Weber

  “Nobody was in the cabin except Nathan and Adams. I saw no sign that Adams was working with anyone but himself.”

  Harper searched his face, but she didn’t see anything to make her think he wasn’t telling the truth. Of course, he was so hard to read, she didn’t see evidence of the opposite, either.

  It simply came down to trust, she realized. Did she trust him?

  “Mom, you don’t have to let go or anything, but I am kinda hungry.”

  “Hungry, are you?” Laughing a little, Harper’s gaze traced her son’s face. “There’s someone who’d like to see you before we have lunch.”

  “Andi?” Nathan looked around, his smile lighting with joy when he saw his honorary aunt in the doorway. “Andi! I had an adventure. Wanna hear about it?”

  “I do, sweetie,” Andi said with a smile at odds with her tear-choked voice. “I want to hear everything.”

  “Andi has something of yours.” Harper gestured for Andi to bring the kitten. But instead of handing it over, her friend simply walked closer with it still hidden behind her back.

  “What’s she got? I know it’s not my baseball. Diego brought me that.” Nathan’s smile was like sunshine, shining bright, as he lifted his ball in thanks. “Isn’t he the best, Mom? He is, isn’t he?”

  Andi arched her brows at Harper as if daring her to answer that question. Calling on years of practice, Harper ignored her way to a graceful sidestep.

  “I suppose this isn’t as cool as your baseball, but I hope you won’t mind taking care of it anyway.” With her back to Andi, Harper reached behind so her friend could put the bundle into her hand. “It’s one of those questionable gifts, I suppose. The kind that requires responsibility, takes work.”

  Wrinkling his nose, Nathan put on his best it’s okay face.

  Harper shifted her hand to her front so she could show him the gift. She could feel Andi hovering behind, felt the kitten squirm out a yawn in her hand. She could sense Diego’s anticipation and Savino’s curiosity.

  But her eyes were locked on her son’s face.

  His mouth dropped. Nathan reached out one finger, but pulled it back as if he were afraid to touch and find out it wasn’t real.

  “That’s a kitten. It’s really a kitten?”

  “It is a kitten.” Not sure why, Harper glanced at Diego. “He’s little and needs care. For the rest of his life, you’ll be responsible for him. He’ll look to you, depend on you. He’ll love you.”

  Diego’s eyes flashed, dark with understanding. He lifted one hand, in agreement or refusal she didn’t know. Before she could ask, before he could say, Nathan cupped his hands under the kitten.

  “Is this because of that guy?” he asked, his eyes narrow with suspicion even as he cuddled the furry bundle under his chin. “Did you get me a kitten because you’re upset that I was gone?”

  Leave it to Nathan to pick an act to pieces. He was so like her that all Harper could do was laugh.

  “Yes,” she admitted, her eyes meeting Diego’s again. “I’d thought a kitten was too big a responsibility, that you weren’t ready for it yet. I was afraid it would be too much.”

  She slowly stood. Even as she felt Andi’s support at her back and Savino’s hulking presence moving toward the door, she watched Diego.

  “I was afraid of a lot of things,” she confessed. “But I was wrong.”

  * * *

  “TORRES.”

  Harper’s words echoing through his head, a million questions sounding right behind them, Diego watched as Andi herded Harper and Nathan toward the kitchen. He wanted to follow. He wanted a moment, or ten, alone with Harper. To ask her what she’d meant. To try to assuage some of that worry about Ramsey. To make sure she was okay.

  “Torres,” Savino ordered again.

  Allowing only a breath for regret, Diego turned to face his commanding officer.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Savino angled his head toward the door. “Debriefing. Let’s go.”

  “Back to base?” Diego looked in the direction Harper had gone. Could he at least say goodbye?

  “Temporary base,” Savino said. “Since I’m still paying a sick amount of rent on that house next door, we might as well use it.”

  Savino paused. “Unless you need a minute to deal with...things?”

  Diego wanted that minute. He wanted to check on Nathan. To see if he was okay. To see how he was handling his homecoming and meet that cat of his.

  He wanted to say something to Harper. To tell her he’d be back, that they’d talk. To find out if she cared.

  But she didn’t want him here. She might say differently now, out of gratitude. But that’s not what she’d said before.

  So, after a deep breath and one last look around, he shook his head and followed his leader out the door.

  * * *

  SAVINO STUDIED HIS MEN.

  The setting might be a little out of place, with the fancy wallpaper and rich leather couches flanking a competition class pool table. And the gentle sound of kids playing outside the window was odd to a man used to the sharp retort of gunfire.

  But the three men dressed in civilian clothes and sporting their own competition class attitudes were as familiar as his face in a mirror.

  In jeans and a beat-up leather jacket, his face unshaven, Diego’s stance screamed frustration, despite the fact that he stood at attention, feet planted wide, hands clasped behind his back and his gaze aimed straight ahead.

  Lansky’s chinos and tee were preppy perfect and his face clean shaven, as usual. But his eyes were shadowed, and there was no hint of his typical amiable ease.

  His hair grown out from its usual military cut so it fell in curls over his brow, Prescott was clearly in pain. His face was pinched, his eyes sharp and his body swaying just a little as he held at parade rest.

  “So, gentlemen. It appears we have a situation,” Savino said after a half dozen or so minutes of tense silence. He’d needed every second of them to reel in his anger and adjust his priorities. “The question is what we do about it.”

  Being smart men, nobody said anything.

  “While the three of you were off on your personal mission, I made it a point to read through the various emails you accessed.” His expression as cold as his tone—because, dammit, they hadn’t gotten his authorization for that mission—Savino looked from man to man. “While I’ve ascertained Adams’s motive to be simple greed based on my cursory analysis, determining the extent of Ramsey’s motive will require someone with a psych degree.”

  Hands clasped behind his back, Savino strode in front of his men from the one on the left, past the one in the middle to the one on the right. Sometimes silence was a more effective chastisement than words.

  “Adams claims that he was spending time with the Maclean boy because he wanted to visit with his friend’s child. He swears he was working alone. But he didn’t access the funds. At the time they were tapped, he was in an underwater training program under the command of Captain Jarrett.” In other words, he couldn’t get cell or satellite transmission under a thousand feet of waves.

  “Adams would say anything to cover for Ramsey,” Prescott said quietly, his eyes bitter. “But if he was working on his own, he had the skills to make sure he was covered.”

  “Adams was a dumb ass in love with the wrong guy.” They all looked over at Lansky’s comment. “But that’s not the real issue, is it?”

  “Of course not,” Prescott agreed, his eyes shadowed. “The question is still whether Ramsey is alive or not.”

  “The priority of the moment is whether Poseidon has been cleared of suspicion.” Savino looked from one man to the other. “Adams and Ramsey’s culpability is fact and has been proven. There is no evidence of any further involvement by anyone on the team, any of the support staff or an
yone within Poseidon.”

  That sounded good. Unfortunately these men were smart enough to realize it sounded a little too good. So, again, none of them said a word. They simply waited. Savino didn’t make them wait long.

  “Did we contain the threat? Or did we simply curtail one element?” Savino took a breath, his fingers tapping a quick tune on the pool table before he shrugged. “The CIA has closed their case and, although they’re protesting the breach of protocol in Adam’s apprehension, NI says they’re satisfied.”

  But Savino wasn’t. Clearly his men knew it. Each of them showed their frustration in their own way.

  Torres gritted his teeth.

  Lansky beat a fist on the desk.

  And Prescott swore.

  “This is bullshit.” The Lieutenant emphasized his feelings by kicking a chair across the room. The delicate wood splintered into an explosion of toothpicks, but nobody even raised a brow.

  “Could be bullshit,” Savino agreed calmly. “Or it could be something deeper. We won’t know, though, until we dig in and see what we see.”

  “So the investigation is ongoing?” Torres asked.

  “The investigation is ongoing,” Savino agreed. “It’s also now deemed SAP for Poseidon only.”

  SAP. Special Access Program. Which meant that the CIA and NI might have cleared this issue, but someone pretty high in the pecking order was still watching. And, for better or worse, willing to keep Poseidon, but not the rest of the team, on the inside of the information loop.

  “And our status?”

  Yes, they’d saved the kid. And, yes, they’d brought down the hostile, exposing one—or two—of their own.

  But they’d disobeyed orders. And they’d ignored protocol. And the ends didn’t always justify the means. Not in the military. Not even for SEALs.

  Savino knew they were waiting to see how hard he’d slap them down. He knew in the back of their minds, they were wondering if they were still on the team.

  Torres’s expression didn’t change, but Savino could see the misery his friend felt. Torres thought he’d lost the woman and now he was wondering if he’d lost his career, too.

  Savino’s gaze traveled from one man to the next, his expression impossible to read.

  “As far as Admiral Cree is concerned, you were under orders.” He waited, letting that sink in, watching the top layer of tension leave his men. “As far as I’m concerned, we have work to do.”

  He gestured to Lansky’s laptop and the tablet, indicating the research they’d used to chase down Adams.

  “What do you want us to do?” Torres asked.

  “Prescott and I will get started here.” Savino tilted his head toward the house next door. “The two of you are on damage control.”

  Despite the stress pounding through him and the gravity of everything they still faced, the look he offered both Torres and Lansky was abject pity.

  “Good luck.”

  * * *

  ALL IN ALL, the debriefing was pretty quick. But it was still a lot longer than Diego had wanted to be away from Harper. Not when he knew this was probably the last time she’d want to see him.

  “Gentlemen,” Andi greeted as she opened the door. But her eyes were all for Jared. “All the details settled?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “And the man who calls himself Nathan’s father? Did you find out if he’s alive?”

  “That’s not something we can talk about,” Jared said as they stepped into the foyer. He flashed Andi the smile that Diego had seen smooth his way so many times. “How about we go get a drink, though, and see what else we have to talk about.”

  “Does that mean you don’t plan to fill us in on the details of the man who could be an ongoing danger to Nathan and possibly to Harper?”

  “Need to know, babe.” Jared’s expression was confident. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got everything covered.”

  And just like that, Andi’s face closed up. It was like watching a curtain come down. A lead curtain. Heavy, solid and unassailable.

  Diego would have winced in sympathy, but he didn’t know if Jared realized he’d been shut out.

  “Harper’s in the kitchen,” Andi said. And then, without another word but in clear dismissal, she stepped out the door, closing it behind her with a sharp snap.

  “What the...” Jared looked like a kid who’d bit into a plastic cookie. Totally confused, ripped off and worried that his treat was gone for good.

  He made for the door, but Diego laid a hand on his shoulder before he reached the knob.

  “You go after her now, you’re making a commitment to open more than just that front door.”

  Jared froze. His face went blank except for the flash of terror in those baby blues.

  Diego rolled his eyes. He felt for his friend. He really did. But he had his own heartbreak to deal with right now.

  “We’ll get drinks later,” he promised with a consoling slap on the shoulder before he headed for the kitchen.

  Mimicking Jared, he froze in the doorway. But not because he was afraid of committing. Because he didn’t think she would.

  He observed Harper as she watched Nathan play with the kitten in the great room. His giggles came through the doorway, filling the air with joy, making Diego smile, too. Who could resist resilience like that?

  “How much did Nathan see, with everything he went through,” she wondered softly, making it clear she knew he was there even though she didn’t take her eyes off her son as he dragged a feather on a stick for his kitten. “How does he deal with it? And more important, how long before he forgets?”

  “I was with him when Nathan was debriefed. He wasn’t abused. He wasn’t exposed to violence, or even made aware of Ramsey’s suspected crimes.” Diego wanted to assure her that there wasn’t anything to worry about. But he was through lying to her. “He’ll have a lot to deal with. Abduction will leave its mark. But he’ll get all the help he needs to get through it. Counseling for both of you, defense training so he feels safer in the future.”

  Diego listed the options he’d researched, the services and support he’d got Savino to guarantee. As he wound down, he hesitated. Then, because he had to be honest, he reluctantly added, “It’ll all help. But he’ll never forget.”

  He could hear her breath shake all the way across the room. After Harper pressed her hand through her hair, she rested it against the window for a brief moment. Then her eyes locked on his as she moved toward him. She stopped just a foot away.

  Close enough for him to reach out and touch, yet still as far as the moon.

  “Will you help him?”

  “What?”

  “I know the services, the programs that Savino offered will help. Counseling and learning to protect himself, I want that and I know Nathan will, too. But he’s going to need more.”

  “Whatever you want, I’ll get it for him.”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor, but not before he saw the tears fill her eyes. She blinked them away, though, so when she looked up her expression was clear.

  “I know you can’t share anything confidential and I know you won’t share more than a little boy should hear.” She stepped closer still. Only a hairbreadth away. “But will you be there for him? When you can, will you be there so he can talk to you, so he can understand that good men, that heroes, behave a certain way.”

  God. It was like taking a sudden fist to the gut. Shock rocked his system, chasing away his breath, sending his thoughts reeling.

  She thought he was a hero? “You don’t blame me?” he asked.

  Her smile flashed, her eyes soft and sweet for just a moment before her expression turned serious. “I blame Brandon. I blame Adams. I blame the bad guys who did whatever it is that Brandon was involved in.” Her brow creased for a moment b
efore she sighed. “But I don’t blame you. I don’t blame your team. I don’t blame your job.”

  No pat on the back, no commendation, no medal had ever felt as good as hearing those words.

  “You’d let me stay in touch with Nathan? To visit him once in a while? After this is done, you won’t see me as a reminder of what he’s been through?”

  “I’d see you as a reminder of what got him through it. He’ll see you as his hero.”

  He shook his head. Again, all he could think was, God.

  “Did Nathan tell you what he named the kitten?”

  Good.

  Subject changes were good. It saved him having to tell her all the reasons he wasn’t a hero.

  “No.” He glanced into the great room and smiled. The kid was stretched out on the floor now, a little ball of gray fluff cuddled in his arms. Both of them were fast asleep. “I did meet the little fur ball and saw the kid’s victory dance. Quite a feat, being able to kick that high while cuddling a cat, by the way. But I didn’t get its name.”

  “Nathan is a boy who loves his heroes. Movie heroes, book heroes and now real heroes.” Harper stepped into the doorway of the great room, her arms crossed over her chest. “He ran through all of the names a few times before he narrowed it down to just one that seemed to fit.”

  Diego eyed the kitten, and, even as his heart warmed, he hoped like hell it wouldn’t be bearing his name.

  “And?”

  “And he’s calling the kitten Poseidon.” Her lips twitching at Diego’s arch look, Harper shrugged. “He doesn’t see anything at odds with a cat being named for the God of water.”

  “God of the sea,” Diego corrected automatically. “He named that cat after us?”

  “After your team.”

  “We’ll have to make it our mascot. The guys’ll love that.” His smile slowly faded, his eyes tracing Harper’s features as if simply by looking he could commit her face to memory. “What about you?”

  “Do I see you as a hero?” she asked, whether for clarification or simply to tease. “Or will I let you see me again?”