Gulf Lynx

by Fiona Quinn

  Heads nodded solemnly.

  “There was an added risk of staying with her because she wore the vial with the cyanide in it. She was instructed to take the poison should she be discovered by authorities and if she didn’t, they would kill her baby.”

  “Striker was some kinda pissed at you that you stayed behind the Veil and put yourself at that kind of risk. If she’d a swallowed that poison, you weren’t sure that you wouldn’t die right alongside her.”

  I snuck a peek Striker’s way.

  Striker bent over, his hands on his knees, his eyes on the ground.

  “I cain’t say that I blame Striker.” Gator shot a glance Striker’s way. “Of course, like you said, you don’t know the consequences for joining up with someone in the ether and them dying.”

  “Yeah, I was all out of brave when it came to Angel. I could see the shimmer. I knew I could go through the Veil. I was just afraid that I’d join him in Hell, and I wouldn’t be able to find my way back to my body.”

  “Do you see the shimmer now?” Jack asked.

  Striker stood and turned my way. His face was bright red. His tone was even. “Chica, you promised Dr. Greer that you wouldn’t reach out to Angel. You decided to think about the cut in your soul. That’s harrowing enough. I’m not pressing you on this. It’s your decision what you do with yourself. But on the Angel front, you made an agreement. If this guy Grey has information, if Angel is alive, we need to hear him out. Honestly, how could that be? The military has its flaws, makes its mistakes, but I can’t see this being one of them. If there were any question, they would have told you he was Missing in Action, presumed dead. They wouldn’t have conferred Gold Star status on you.”

  “Never say never, right?”

  He crouched down in front of me. “Tell me the last exchange again, Chica.”

  “Grey said, ‘And you think he’s in physical danger and want to get him help.’ I responded yes. Then he said, ‘This will be delicate.’”

  “This will be delicate,” Blaze said.

  Jack’s brow was drawn tight with concentration. He rubbed his fingers into his sternum. “Hard to interpret that.”

  “I said, ‘I get that.’ Which, to be honest, I didn’t get at all.” I reached out and put my hand on Striker’s shoulder.

  He reached for me and pulled me into his arms, like a protective covering, and an anchor to hold me in place.

  “I hoped that Grey thought I knew what he was talking about, so he’d feed me more information. Before he got in his vehicle, the last thing he said to me was he’d to come up with a plan. He said, ‘It risks a lot. But listening to you, hearing you, I think I have the picture, and…okay, yes. I’ll have to do something immediately.” I looked from one of my teammates to the next. “How would you interpret that?”

  Blaze shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds like he’s spooling up a mission. I can’t imagine what that would look like.”

  Deep spit on the ground. “Angel’s been alive all this time?”

  “You know better than to jump to conclusions,” Gator said. “Lynx, I can see the waves of anger coming off your skin like a heat mirage.”

  “Emotions more than anger. Confusion for sure. I can’t imagine Angel doing that to me. Add to that, we’re freaking stitch together by a mad-scientist, and, in my mind, it makes this scenario absurd.” Hopefully Grey would come back soon and explain what was happening. I turned in Striker’s arms. Pressing my face forward until we were nose to nose, I whispered, “I love you. No doubts. Right?”

  “None.”

  I nodded then turned to snuggle back by his side, appreciating both the physical and emotional warmth he provided. “If Angel’s alive, wow is everything complicated.”

  “That, Chica, is putting it about as mildly as it can be put. One step and then another. No one could have foreseen this trajectory. Not how the demise of the Galaxy project would play hell on everyone’s lives, not how Indigo would decide to experiment on you and Angel. It’s chaotic right now. And in the midst of the battle, the thing you have to do is stick to your mission, accomplish your goals, and deal with the next step after the dust settles. We’re still here on the mission.”

  “The mission’s over, Kaylie’s safe.”

  “No, ma’am,” Gator said. “General Elliot gave us orders to follow you to the ends of the Earth and make sure you made it home again.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  The phone call from Doc and Miriam made us all jump.

  “We’re ready. How about you?” Doc said.

  My team blanched. It was the craziest thing to see. Just all of a sudden, white as ghosts.

  My hands were shaking pretty hard. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “You’ve got a crowd,” Doc said.

  “My family’s here.”

  “Nice. Okay. Give everyone a kiss and let’s get this done. The area you’re in is not a great one for hanky pankying around.”

  Jack leaned over and whispered in my ear, “You trust her?”

  “Who else could I trust with this? She worked for Galaxy at General Elliot’s request. She’s just no-nonsense.”

  He bent and gave me a tight hug. They each did. Except Striker.

  Man, oh man, the torture in his eyes.

  “I love you. I’m going to marry you. Trust me.”

  “Yes, with every fiber of my being.” He stared hard into my eyes as he clenched his teeth.

  Jack slapped a hand across Striker’s shoulder and moved him out of the tent.

  “Looks like they’re sitting all the way around the tent, like they circled the wagons,” Doc said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said.

  Gator sat on the bunk, looking positively green now.

  “We need to move this forward. Your Grandmother Sibyl is in the ether. Lay yourself down now. Grandmother Sibyl has actually seen this before. And she knew you had this attachment. But she believed that you had made that connection voluntarily. When Miriam and I did a meditation to try to connect with her, she was sitting on a flat rock out in the grass, alongside her were round huts and women working. Her hair is in a braided bun, with shells. And she is beautiful and toothless and wise. I’m telling you this for affirmation.”

  “Yes, that’s her. Hello Grandmother.” A sob escaped my lungs. “I’m joyous you’re here.”

  “Come.” I heard in my head. “Come lay your head in my lap as you’ve done before. I didn’t know that this was done to you against your will. I thought you welcomed this man to be part of your journey. It seemed to me you welcomed his presence.”

  “I was confused, Grandmother. I didn’t know he was attached to me like this. I thought I simply held him with love in my heart.”

  “This was an evil thing that was done to both of you. And we will set it right.”

  She had what looked like a cigarette, she breathed in the smoke and blew it across my face. The drumbeat started, and it pulled me away from consciousness. Away, away, away…

  ***

  “Get Striker in here,” Miriam said from far away.

  “Striker.” Gator sounded rattled. Gator didn’t do rattled. Where was I?

  There was a bang. And silence.

  “Call her back.” I heard Grandmother Sibyl say.

  Doc repeated the command.

  “Call her back from where? What’s happening?”

  “She slipped past me. I reached for her but—” Gator. I only heard him this anguished when he was in trance, grieving his lost love.

  I looked around at nothingness. No sound. No light. Nothing. I was nothing. The voices had been far, far away. Somewhere else.

  Here was nothing.

  “I love you, Lexi. I need you. Come back to me, Chica. Come home. Come back to my arms. Come back to me.” Solid. He was so solid. Like a boulder. Like a mountain. “Come here. Come to me.”

  That was closer. I want that voice. I wanted that connection. That was the connection I was supposed to have.

  “Lexi, come home
to me. Come home.”

  I was almost there. I looked around to where Angel had always been in my dreams and…nothingness. Nothing.

  I sat up gasping like I’d been underwater for far too long. Striker wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me hard, realized it was too hard and released me.

  Smoothing my hair from my eyes, he cupped his hands around my face. “Chica?” He looked deep into my eyes.

  I nodded. Not quite ready for words.

  “Chica do you know who I am? What’s my name?”

  “Gavin Rheas.”

  “What do you call me?”

  “Striker.”

  “Who am I?”

  “The love of my life. My soulmate. And now my one and only.”

  He laughed. Threw back his head and laughed. I could feel it rolling through my body as he pressed me into him. And then he sobbed into my hair. He pulled himself together enough to ask, “How did it go?”

  “She’s fine. The surgery is done. Grandmother Sibyl was here,” Doc said. “She has an amazing technique. I think I may go over to find her and see if she won’t teach me a thing or two.”

  I closed my eyes and sent love and light to Grandmother Sibyl.

  “You’re welcome my child.” I heard in my head.

  “How does it feel?” Gator asked.

  “Odd, to be truthful. Like I’ve misplaced part of me.”

  “You’re not to go looking for him in the ether,” Doc said. “You took an oath.”

  “And I’ll hold to that promise, Doc. But I was talking to Grey. Then you were on the computer pressing to hurry. I’m whew! a little overwhelmed. How did Angel do?”

  “He was relieved on one level but frightened on another. I’m going to ask you again. Is Angel dead?”

  “Apparently not,” I said.

  “What?” Miriam all but yelled. “What in the actual heck!”

  “Why was Angel frightened?” I asked.

  “Your connection was his only hope. He says he’s in Hell.”

  “Tell me where that is!”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Grey came to find me at the tent just as I was getting dressed. I tied my boots into place, and we walked away together.

  After several minutes he said, “Thank you for helping to save me.” He didn’t raise his eyes, his focus trained to the path in front of us. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “All I lost was time, apparently,” I said softly. “And sanity.”

  Slowly, he brought his gaze up.

  “I don’t know how this black ops crap works,” I said. “But I’d like you to be candid with me about this much, is it better to save your operator’s life or is it more important to protect a mission by allowing them to die?”

  In my mind I had a lot of emotions to sort through. It was going to take time. Ha! Here was a set of circumstances that I’d never share with Avril Limb, even if she had high security clearance. Nope, this I’d have to work out with those who went on this journey with me. For now, as an emotion came up, I just let it drift on by. Emotions had no place when lives were on the line. Later, I promised myself. I’ll vent all of this, the fear and anger, the betrayal, the victimization. All of it. But now? I had to save my husband from Hell.

  He pushed his hands into his pockets, whether it was from the early morning cold, or he wanted hide something, I couldn’t tell. So I pushed. “There was speculation on the mission to save you. I wasn’t privy to the orders. I don’t know what was authorized. I do know what was discussed. Everyone has their limits. Under torture, everyone will say whatever it is that they think will make the pain stop. I’ve been in torturous situations before, and I’ve begged for death before. I’m not talking about this from a place of theory.”

  I watched his blink rate increase with his stress levels. That was my job, to crank him up just like Doc had back when she wanted to see my emotions about Indigo.

  “The Delta Operatives were there to pull you out of the prison,” I said. “The Night Stalkers there to fly you to safety. They did that. But they also anticipated failing, especially after the Blackhawk took the RPG hit. The Little Bird took off with you. But there was discussion about what to do with you if they failed at any of the points—from contact until mission accomplished. The feeling was that everyone would prefer to take a bullet in the head from a friend. The impression I got was that if someone there thought they were going to fail, and they had the shot, they’d do that. Kill you. Out of a sense of camaraderie. We’re all in this battle together.”

  “To answer your question, it depends on the operation and if losing the one operative would put others in danger. We have to weigh out the repercussions on everyone. Of course, where we can save a life, we try.”

  “Are you in communications with Angel?”

  His body jerked involuntarily.

  “Angel needs a rescue mission to get him out.”

  “Angel told me to expect this.”

  “His situation?”

  “You. When I recruited him, Angel said he’d do it, but someday his wife was going to show up here in the Middle East and track him down, no matter how dead we made him look.” He checked his watch. “There were actual bodies in coffins. Even if you gave me the empty box, other wives were actual widows. I’d appreciate knowing the story.”

  “Angel’s team was negotiating with a tribal leader. In order to get information, we had to save his daughter from the people who were holding her. She was caught and enslaved. The Rangers got her out.”

  I thought about what Miriam had said about the woman sitting next to Angel in the truck, a stop, a go, a blast. “They got out of the truck,” I whispered. “Angel and the daughter.”

  “Angel has a great facility with languages. He picks them up with ease. He can mimic anyone and knows how to adjust his body language and tone to manipulate and fool people. He suggested that he go and speak as a businessman and say he could get the daughter back.”

  “He was playing a role when he told the father he’d get the daughter back in exchange for some information. Okay. Then what?”

  “Angel was allowed to negotiate on their behalf. Up until the point when the truck drove away, the woman was blindfolded and didn’t know she was with the Rangers. When they took her home, Angel couldn’t very well pull up in their Army vehicles, so Angel decided to get out and walk the ten kilometers. He wore no comms, so if they searched him, he would seem legitimate. He was going to do recon and make his way to a predetermined rallying point with the information we needed about where ISIS was holding an American soldier.”

  “Oh.”

  “He walked off, turning his head just in time to see the vehicles and all of his buddies blow up.”

  That must have been what happened when I woke up that night, two years ago. I was in shock. He was in shock.

  “He had been five minutes from death, and he survived. I think that’s why he let me recruit him. He was living on borrowed time. He wanted to put it to good use. That sounded terrible. I’m sorry. After being in the camp and seeing the women who were enslaved, he wanted to put this extra time he was given toward saving as many women as he possibly could. He knew he could easily be killed. But each day was a gift he was given to do more.”

  “You hadn’t recruited him yet, right? He saw the explosion and continued on his mission?”

  “He had no comms. The truck hadn’t reported that they dropped him. They probably were waiting for a good tune to be over before they turned it down to do the communication. I don’t know. I went to the point where I was supposed to meet him because I had a gut feeling he would be there. I decided to recruit him. It was several weeks later. You had already been told and had already buried him. He is so good at what he does. He has saved so many lives.”

  I thought back to what Margot had told me about going black ops. At the time I had been thinking about the possibility of that being the reason for Kaylie going missing, I guessed my subconscious was also wondering because some par
t of me knew and had always known that Angel wasn’t dead. “The Army went along with this. They knew.”

  “They were told at the upper levels. They know.”

  “And he agreed because…”

  “In the CIA, he can stay in the field. In the Army, he has requirements that would make him rotate out. It takes time to build relationships. His work is important. He fights to shut down the slave trade. You know. You saw. Kaylie Street has been their victim. Thousands of girls have been their victims. ISIS used the girls, and these were just girls barely into puberty. They used them to raise money and to incentivize the fighters.”

  I nodded. “I came to save his life. After that, he can stay dead.” It sounded cold. I was just numb, my emotions frozen somewhere inside. “I’m certainly not going to interfere with that. He’s right, as pissed as I am that no one could come and knock on my door and just tell me how things stood, I would never be so selfish as to force Angel to do something other than what his convictions told him to do.”

  “You’re handling this very well.”

  “I most certainly am not. I’m not handling this at all. And I’m not going to try to handle it until I’ve done what I came to do. Save my dead husband’s life.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  In the time that Grey had been gone from the camp, he’d tapped on the shoulder of his informants and located Angel at a compound along the Iran Iraqi border.

  A Taliban leader thought Angel might not be who he said he was. They didn’t suspect him of being American, they suspected him of being a slave poacher. They were trying to extract a confession.

  Angel was deniable. And State had decided to deny his existence.

  Angel had been developing relationships in Iran and that was a bad look for America in our present impasse over the diplomatic handling of nuclear capability.