by J. M. Madden
“That’s Goose. Attack dog extraordinaire.”
Andrea looked up at Jack, confused. “What?”
“I’m joking,” he laughed. “Goose just looks scary. He isn’t actually. Mike rescued him when he saw a guy throw him out of a car into a ditch.”
“No,” she breathed, leaning down to scratch his ears even more. The dog slumped to the ground and rolled to his back, asking for belly rubs. Andrea scratched him for a bit but she had a feeling the dog would never think it was enough.
“Goose, go get the mouse,” Jack encouraged, and he was off like a shot, plunging into the underbrush. “He’ll leave us alone for a while.”
Andrea followed Jack along a slight path toward a workshop in the back corner of the property. Inside there was a grizzled, bearded man sitting in a chair drinking a bottle of water. His hair and beard were wild, sprinkled liberally with gray throughout the brown. His pale blue eyes took them in with a glance, and Andrea had a feeling the man was way more than he presented himself to be. There was an intelligence in his eyes that was almost tangible. “Jack, you old son of a bitch. What are you into?”
The man laughed, pushing to his feet and holding out a hand. Jack took it, shaking strongly, and she had a feeling the two men respected each other a lot.
“We’re on the trail of some serious bad guys and thought maybe we could hang out here for a night or two. Andrea Winters, this is Mike Powell, fellow operator and overall badass. We used to call him McGyver in the teams because of all the situations he got us out of. He was a fellow teammate and he works for Bone Frog. We’ve worked together for a few years.”
Mike grinned, reaching for her hand. His pale eyes were crinkled with laughter. “Usually that was trouble that Jack had gotten us into. It’s a pleasure Andrea. I’ve heard a lot about you over the years.”
She smiled as well, though it made her heart hurt. This man had taken Dorian’s place at Jack’s side and kept him safe. “Thank you for taking care of Jack.”
Mike gave her a single nod and let go of her hand.
“So,” Mike said, “We’re in the shit, huh? I love how you include me in your issues.”
Mike got them a couple of nylon chairs and they sat in the workshop, drinking steaming cups of a nice Columbian dark roast as Jack laid out the details. When he was done, Mike pursed his lips, then looked at Andrea.
“I think you’re right. Whatever team is in the field is going to most vulnerable. I know Ten is in Afghanistan right now, but no idea exactly what they’re doing. I have a feeling if you can get a list of names these will be their kids.”
Andrea didn’t like being right, especially about something like this, but it was good to have the sound agreement of a third party on her reasoning.
“Send me the picture, okay? I might have someone that can help us out.” Mike nodded when the picture message came through to his phone, then tapped the screen a few times and nodded again as he got up and led them into the house.
Andrea wasn’t sure what she expected when she walked into Mike’s house. Actually, she did— clutter, like outside, and neglect. Instead it was spotlessly clean and fairly modern, a total dichotomy to outside. He led them through the house to an office in the back. Now, this was cluttered, but more like an evil genius clutter. There were at least four computer monitors arranged around the area, and two of them were lit, with news programs running across them. He sat in a chair and woke the third, opened the picture file he’d sent himself a moment ago. He clicked here and there, blew the pictures up and focused on each child. By the time he was done printing them all out, he had a stack of fairly decent kid pics.
He pointed at one. “This kid looks familiar to me, but I’m not sure why. I bet I know his dad.”
The child he pointed at was dark haired and dark eyed and had a rakish grin. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine. He was standing with an even smaller girl, similarly colored, about six.
Even if they could get a little closer, it would make their job easier. Security was ingrained in SEALs, so it probably wouldn’t be easy to track these kids down. None of the pictures looked like they were from social media. It looked like they were candid shots, taken directly of the kids. She pointed that out to Jack.
“I think they’ve been watching these guys for a while,” she murmured. “These are real life, real camera shots, not like phone pictures or downloads off social media. The quality of the picture is different.”
He nodded his head as he looked at the collage. “Surveillance shots.”
Jack handed Mike the paper with the odd notations on it. The other man looked at the paper for a long time. “Is it grid coordinates? A code for an address?”
He shook his head and huffed out a breath. “I’ll have to think about that one.”
Andrea hated being in the dark. It felt like there was this huge stopwatch ticking away the time and if they didn’t figure it out soon it would be too late for the kids.
It was almost an hour later when Si called Jack’s phone. He looked at her and nodded as he listened to his boss speak. “It is definitely SEAL Team Ten? Okay. Yes, we’re at Mike Powell’s. Probably stay here for the night until we get more intel. Mike thinks he might have someone he can talk to about the kids. Roger that. Keep us posted. And I know it’s going to ruffle some feathers but we need a residence list. Yes, all of them.”
Jack looked at her as he hung up, his pale eyes shadowed. “Ten is in the bush and they’re supposed to be radio silent, which makes me think they’re moving in on a high-value target. If they haven’t hit it yet, we might have some time to figure out where these kids are. Silas is going to try to get a list of addresses, but they don’t hand those out easily.”
Andrea nodded, knowing he was right. She and Dorian had guarded their privacy, and the kids’, like lions. It had been easier when the kids were small, there was no social media like there was now. No Blabberbook and Tweeter. She’d begun to use the various platforms because of her business, but she tried to leave it more to Luke, the dayshift manager. He was into all that stuff.
“At least we know it’s Team Ten,” Mike said. “That narrows it down to less than a hundred men,” he laughed, darkly.
Yeah, this wasn’t going to be easy. Andrea rubbed her eyes, feeling like everything was out of step. It had been a couple of days since she’d had decent sleep and her brain felt muddled.
“I have a guest room right down the hallway, there,” Mike told her, obviously noticing her blurriness.
“I’m fine,” she argued, but Jack stepped close.
“You’ll be no good to me if you don’t get some decent sleep.”
As she looked up into his deep silver eyes, she could see concern. “I’m sure you need sleep, too.”
He made a face. “I can go a lot longer on little sleep than you can.”
She gave him a sideways look as she pushed to her feet. “Right. You might want to consider that now might be the best time.”
Sighing, he nodded. She didn’t wait to see what he would do, just headed out of the room and toward the bedroom Mike had directed her to. Goose followed along behind her and when the big animal jumped onto the bed to nap with her she didn’t mind. She laughed lightly, dragging the covers away from the dog. “Share, damn it.”
Eventually they were back to back and it only took a few moments for Andrea to drift away.
Jack watched Andrea go, worried about the circles under her eyes and the way her narrow shoulders drooped. She was under a tremendous amount of stress right now and he knew she was dealing with shock and guilt in the aftermath of Roger Mann’s murder. It was remarkable that they had any kind of chance to thwart a possible attack and she didn’t seem to understand how much good she was doing.
“Now I understand why you get that look in your eyes sometimes,” Mike murmured.
Jack smoothed out his face. Mike was a friend but Jack probably should have been more careful with the way he interacted with Andrea. But what did it rea
lly matter?
“Yeah,” he said eventually, agreeing.
Mike sighed and Jack could hear frustration in the sound. “It’s been years, Jack. What’s holding you back?”
Jack chuckled, stung. “He was my best friend, Mike, for more than twenty years. I would never,” he started, but Mike cut him off.
“If he was your best friend he would want you both to be happy.”
Yeah, maybe.
“She doesn’t see me that way. I’m her friend.” He dared to look up at his buddy.
Mike was glaring at him and shaking his head slowly. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
It had been a long time since he’d been offended, but Mike’s words stung. He was trying to do the best he could, which is what Dorian would expect. And that didn’t mean move in on his wife.
No matter how he felt about her.
Chapter Seven
Andrea woke to something fragrant teasing her senses. She opened her eyes and smiled up at Jack, holding a perfectly grilled cheese on a plate near her face. Her stomach growled, incredibly loud in the quiet room.
Jack chuckled and it was the first time she’d seen his face relax at all through this entire episode. The hardness left his eyes and she could see humor in the creases of his skin. Jack could be a fun guy when he actually let himself, but it had been so long since she’d seen that.
“I love your grilled cheese,” she whispered, sitting up and taking the plate from him. “Thank you.”
She glanced up into his face and was shocked to catch him looking down her shirt. He jerked his head away and turned for the door. “Thought you’d want to know we have a lead,” he murmured, before letting himself out.
Andrea shook her head to herself. He was the most confounding man! She knew he felt something for her, but he wouldn’t allow himself to do anything about it.
Andrea bit into the sandwich and groaned. Damn, it was so good. For some reason she could use the same ingredients and his would taste completely different to her. Even when the kids had been little they’d demanded “Jack’s Cheese”. She couldn’t begrudge them that, though, because she’d loved those sandwiches just as much as the kids did. And she thought that when he made them he felt like he was giving back to them somehow.
Jack had grown up a poor child in an abusive home. The man was so closemouthed about it, though. Only over the course of many years did she learn that he had several brothers and a single sister, and that they had lived in terrible poverty. One day he’d been talking to her children about eating the heel of a loaf of bread—the part that they disliked— and being thankful for having it at all. She remembered she’d looked at Dorian and he’d nodded, eyes angry.
Later on that night she’d asked Dorian about Jack’s story.
“I’m not even sure about everything,” he’d admitted. “I know he grew up dirt poor in Alabama. There was a lot of abuse and I know he took a lot of it himself to protect his younger brothers and sister.”
“No, really?”
Dorian had nodded. “Then, and this part he has told me, when he was fifteen Jack left school early and walked home. Something had been bothering his sister and he’d wanted to check on her. He walked in on his current stepfather molesting her. I guess he was a fairly big kid, I mean, you see how he is now, and he whaled on the bastard.”
“Where was his mother,” she remembered asking, but Dorian had shaken his head. “I think she worked outside of the house and knew about the abuse, but didn’t do anything about it. Anyway, Jack is beating the shit out of his stepdad and ends up pounding him through the front glass window, just as the cops pull up.”
Andrea had been shocked, because overall Jack was a gentle guy. “Then what happened?”
“The bastard bled out on the lawn before an ambulance could get there. Cops arrested Jack as only some good-ol’ Alabama boys can do, beating the crap out of him, until the sister came forward to tell them what had happened. Then they had to let him go. His mama wasn’t happy though because she was suddenly out a man. Kicked Jack out of the house.”
“At fifteen?” she’d gasped.
Dorian had nodded. “He lived on the streets for a few years before he joined the Navy.”
That conversation had stuck with her, but she’d never felt like she could ask Jack about it. To live with the fact that he’d killed a man at fifteen had to have been hard, but she’d never seen any sign of violence from him in real life. It was as if he saved all that aggression for the job overseas, not at home. She’d watched Jack cradle her babies more carefully than anyone else, but he’d had a special connection with her daughter, Jeannette. After Dorian had told her about Jack’s childhood so many puzzle pieces had fallen into place. Jack loved both kids but had always been more solicitous of Jennie, more protective. Maybe, in some respects she reminded him of his little sister.
Jennie had been the one to christen them Jack’s Cheeses and for a long time it had been the only thing she would eat when the men were stateside. It had been a pain in Andrea’s ass because for some reason the girl always knew when Mom had made it and not Uncle Jack.
Andrea knew for a fact that Jack used to love being called on to cook.
Munching on the sandwich, she leaned over to pull her shoes on. She must have been sleeping deeply because Goose had disappeared at some point and she hadn’t even noticed. He greeted her when she walked into the computer room, thick tail waving. Mike sat at the computer and Jack stood just behind his shoulder, strong arms crossed. The edge of a bone frog tattoo crawled from beneath the edge of his shirt sleeve, drawing her attention for a second.
“So, what’s the new info?” she asked, refocusing.
“Mike knows who one of the kids are.”
“No,” Mike corrected. “I think I do. But it’s enough to run out and check on, real quick.”
The bearded man turned to look at them. “I think you two should stay here.”
Jack opened his mouth to argue but Andrea beat him to it. “We have to go,” she said quickly. “We can’t just sit by while children are in danger. Besides, I might recognize one of the terrorists.”
Mike looked at her, weighing her words, then tipped his head. “Fine. Let’s go, then.”
They all trooped out to Mike’s truck, the monster blue thing in the driveway. Jack reached up and opened the passenger door for her because she couldn’t even reach the handle, then she just stood and stared. The thing was huge! And it didn’t have a running board she could step on like Jack’s did. Before she could even try to scramble up Jack wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all.
Andrea stepped into the cab like nothing had happened and grinned at Mike, then turned to smile at Jack with appreciation. “Thanks,” she murmured, strapping herself into the middle of the bench seat.
“No problem,” he told her softly, and Andrea stared for a moment. There was something in his voice…
They drove out of Mike’s neighborhood and into more of a retail area. Then, after several blocks, they turned into another subdivision, this one with bigger, prettier houses spaced more evenly apart. It was obvious this was a kid friendly area because there were toys and bikes everywhere, not just at one place. Trampolines and playground sets decorated the back yards and at the far end of the street there were more houses being built. It looked like a wonderful place to raise a child. The thought that danger and evil had moved in here was abhorrent.
Mike idled to a stop in front of a stone blue house with bright white detailing. There was a minivan in the drive as well as the usual suburban kid debris Andrea remembered so well. There was a woman moving in the garage, like she was trying to pick up some of the mess.
“That’s my contact. She’s the wife of one of the lieutenant commanders for Team Ten and she won’t overreact. I’ve known her for a handful of years and she’s as level as they come. Let’s go talk to her.”
Mike slid out of the truck and Jack did as well, but Andrea
wasn’t sure how she was going to get out. Ah, she needn’t have worried. Jack was waiting for her, arms upraised, face closed down. Was he aggravated to do this for her?
She stepped to the edge and leaned down to rest her hands on his shoulders, being careful not to touch his injury. His strong hands gripped her waist and he lifted her down, setting her carefully to the concrete. But he didn’t let her go immediately. No, for a long minute he just stared down at her, and the tension between them cranked up. Before she knew what she was doing Andrea allowed one hand to slide over and cup his neck, her fingers dancing at the edge of his hairline. If he would lean down the tiniest bit they could…
A car door slammed across the street, loud enough to make them jerk in alarm, worried that it was a gunshot. Jack crowded her against the truck, protecting her body with his own. He had his weapon in his hand immediately and was scanning the area. Then, slowly, he realized what the sound had been. He looked down into her face and Andrea grinned, her arms tight around his waist. Before he could pull away she stretched up and pressed a kiss to the cleft in his strong chin. “Thank you, Jack.”
He stepped away quickly. Andrea watched him and realized he seemed a little embarrassed. What in the world would he be embarrassed about?
Jack guided her up the drive where Mike and the woman were standing.
“Elaine Eringham, this is Andrea Winters and former Lt. Commander Jack Bishop.”
The woman’s dark eyes focused on Jack. “I’ve heard of you. One of the gray wolves of Team Four.”
Jack ran a hand over his close-cropped silver hair. “Yeah, that’s me.”
Elaine grinned. “My Tom is getting there. Not sure what I’m going to do with him if he retires,” she laughed lightly. Then her eyes settled on Andrea. “I came to the funeral but I’m sure you don’t remember.”
Andrea frowned, looking at the woman more closely, but she shook her head. “I don’t, I’m sorry.”