SEALs of Honor: Baylor

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SEALs of Honor: Baylor Page 5

by Dale Mayer


  She gave a harsh laugh that made him wince. “I still don’t know what day it is. I don’t know anything,” she said. “I woke up in that rattletrap of a decommissioned riverboat cruiser that you were talking about, but I didn’t feel like myself. My head was heavy. My tongue was dry. My throat was parched. I didn’t feel like I had my wits about me. So I presume I was drugged. Whether that was initially or afterward, I can’t tell you. For all I know, they gave us several shots and kept us out for three days or something. There was food and water, once we were awake. My mother was not in very good shape at all, and my father was worse, or at least it seemed like he was. I don’t know.”

  “Did you recognize any of the kidnappers?”

  “Well, if you found my journal, you know I put one face down because it was so memorable,” she said. “I had been sitting up on deck, sketching, when they arrived. His face really caught my attention because of the harsh lines to it. Just something was ominous about the man, about the whole thing. My parents didn’t seem to feel the same way, but I did, so I quickly did that sketch. I know it wasn’t very good, and it certainly wasn’t likely identifiable,” she said, “but it’s what I could do in the moment.”

  “No, it was very identifiable,” Baylor said, “and gave us a place to start. So it’s all good.”

  She smiled. “That’s wonderful,” she said. “I had it in my hand when I dashed to go below but to no avail. I ended up losing it, along with everything else.”

  “But that’s also okay,” he said, “because that’s how I found it.”

  She nodded. “And that was all I could really do,” she said. “We were on the riverboat for probably two days, or a day and a half maybe,” she said. “I would surface, and then I’d go under. Then I’d surface and then go under again.”

  “But they fed you, and you had lots of water?” he asked.

  “Yes. We were held in that end of a room, where you found us. Nothing was there, so I presume it was like a cargo hold area. They had erected plywood at half height, so they could stare at us from the other side. We had nothing, no mattress or blankets. Nothing. We would be taken one at a time to the washroom.”

  “Did they touch you?”

  She winced. “No,” she said, “but I overheard an argument between two of them about that. One saying something about they weren’t allowed to touch the merchandise, but the other guy was being an ass about it. He didn’t like that at all,” she said finally. “He was really angry because he wanted access to me and didn’t seem to think it would matter.”

  Baylor kept asking for details, with question upon question, backtracking to go over the same answers again and again.

  “I feel like you’re interrogating me,” she finally cried out in frustration.

  “No,” he said gently. “But, when we’re tired, we remember things differently.”

  “So you’re trying to get me tired?” she snapped.

  He chuckled. “Nope,” he said. Then he got up and poured them coffee and gave her a cup.

  She wrapped her hands around it gratefully. “I know you’re not trying to be mean,” she said, “but I am tired, and I feel like half of what I saw wasn’t real and like half of what I saw I couldn’t even believe. I didn’t have any way of knowing what was the drugs and what wasn’t,” she said. “It’s so frustrating to think a whole chunk of time is missing from my life.”

  “True enough,” he said, “but thankfully it’s been a relatively minor duration.”

  “To you, yes,” she said quietly. “Not to me.”

  “I know,” he said, “and I do understand.”

  “And I still don’t quite believe what happened yet,” she whispered. Then she shook her head. “I’m more tired than I thought.”

  “You just need to wind down a little bit,” he said. “Then you should crash easily.”

  “I hope so,” she said, with a smile. “And I hope we’re not here very long. This definitely feels like a place where I don’t belong.”

  “Nope, you don’t,” he said, “but we’re doing what we can to get you home.”

  “I don’t want to go without my parents though,” she said.

  “That could change the plan then,” he said. “It depends on when your father will be well enough to travel.”

  “And my mother?” she whispered.

  “So, what is the update on your mother’s health?”

  She shrugged. “According to her, she completed the chemo, and everything was looking good.”

  “And yet …” He paused.

  She looked up at him, then nodded and said, “I know. And yet.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “I’m not sure I do,” she whispered. “Inviting me on this trip seemed like such an off-the-cuff request. But she seemed a little desperate, and I didn’t know if she was trying to avoid my father or what. They had been reconciled for a while, but, for all I know, he’s had another ‘relapse’ or something,” she said, making an air quote gesture and sounding bitter.

  “Was he always a wandering man?”

  “Well, you don’t want to think such a thing about your father,” she said, “but, when you find out that he’s been wandering, you don’t know how long it’s been going on, and now you can no longer believe the truth from the lies.”

  “Of course,” he said. “How much was it an issue in their life?”

  “It was big,” she said, “the biggest. My mother wasn’t the type to just sit there and take that kind of betrayal.”

  “So a divorce was in the offing?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, “and then she got the breast cancer diagnosis. She hadn’t been feeling well for the longest time, but she had chalked it up to her marital problems. But they persisted, got worse, never went away. She didn’t want to go to the doctor. She probably knew it would be bad news. And it was. We didn’t know what to do because she wasn’t up for it. She didn’t have the energy, couldn’t afford to spend that energy on a divorce because her battle now had to turn to saving her own life. So she took him back.”

  “Understandable,” he said gently, “and let’s hope it wasn’t for naught.”

  “That would be the worst, wouldn’t it?” she said and yawned just then.

  He motioned at the coffee. “Will that keep you from sleeping?”

  She shook her head and, with a wry grin, said, “No. Actually I feel like I still have some of the drugs coursing through me.”

  He looked at her for a long moment. “Maybe we should take a blood sample.”

  She stared at him in surprise. “What good would that do?”

  “Can’t hurt,” he said, “just in case they gave you something abnormal.”

  “I don’t want to go to the hospital,” she said. “I pretty much hate hospitals, after taking my mom to all her treatments and everything.”

  “Sometimes you just have to suck it up and do the right thing.”

  “I know,” she said, turning to look away. “But it—”

  “Listen. If you’re still dealing with drugs in your system, even though you appear to be fine,” he said, “that doesn’t mean that you are.”

  “I highly doubt there’s anything major though,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

  “I don’t want to go to the hospital!” she cried out.

  “What if it got you in to see your father?” At that, she stopped and glared at him. He shrugged. “I might make it happen, if you keep up your end of the bargain.”

  She raised both hands in frustration. “That’s blackmail, you know?”

  He smiled and said, “Whatever works.”

  “Fine,” she snapped. “You get one vial of blood, and that’s it, but I get to see my mother.”

  “What about your father?”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, my father too.”

  “So, even if your mother forgave him, you didn’t, huh?”

  “He made my mother’s life miserable,” she said, “and
betrayed the most basic of vows. So you’re right. I’m having a harder time forgiving him.”

  “Good enough,” he said, then hopped to his feet and said, “Let’s go now.”

  “I thought I wasn’t allowed.”

  “This is a whole different deal now,” he said. “I don’t like the fact that you’re still feeling the effects of the drugs.”

  “It’s probably nothing,” she said.

  “Better to find out and be sure,” he said. “Drink up and let’s go. As soon as we return, we’ll get you showered and into bed.”

  She groaned and tossed back the last of her coffee. “Fine. But I’d just as soon stay here.”

  *

  Baylor could have arranged to have blood drawn from her right here, but he was a little concerned because her pupils weren’t responding, and also she hadn’t noticed that her speech was slurred. He quickly bundled her up now that he had her cooperation and got her back into the vehicle. With Hudson driving, the three of them made it to the hospital in record time. As she reached the front door of the hospital, she was sagging as she walked. Just as she blacked out, he quickly picked her up in his arms, and scooted her into Emergency, barking orders.

  With Hudson gaining everybody’s cooperation at a double-fast rate, they had her checked over, her blood pulled, and a doctor examining her in no time.

  When she came to about twenty minutes later, she looked around, immediately terrified, trying to bolt from the bed. Baylor placed his hands on her arms to hold her down. “You’re okay,” he said. “Just stay where you are.”

  She stared up at him, confused. “Baylor?” But her speech was still slurred.

  He nodded, as he pulled his chair closer and said, “Yes, it’s me. What do you remember?”

  She looked at him, blinked several times, and said, “You were interrogating me.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Okay, let’s not overdo that,” he said. “I was asking you questions about your ordeal.”

  “It seemed like an interrogation,” she said with spirit.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, you said that already. A couple times. I get it. I’m sure glad to see you’re feeling better.”

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “I wanted to get you checked over because you were showing signs of still being under the influence of the drugs, when they should have been well and truly worn off.”

  “Yeah, I don’t feel so good,” she said, sitting upright. “I think I’ll be sick.” He immediately grabbed the garbage can off to the side and held it for her. She upchucked over the side of the bed and then again and again. By the time she finally collapsed on the mattress, she was pale and sweaty.

  “Well, that,” he said, “is actually a good thing.”

  “Doesn’t feel like it,” she whispered. He got her some fresh water to rinse out her mouth and then gave her some to drink. She sagged back against the pillows. “Did they give me something just before you rescued me?”

  “It’s possible,” he said. “Again the timeline is a bit confused, and I don’t know who was with you.”

  “One of them was, and he’d given me his bottle of water, but I don’t know what else might have been in it.”

  “Did you drink it?”

  She nodded. “Some of it. And I had it with me when we left in the car.”

  “Ah,” he said, “that would explain it.” He looked over at Hudson, who nodded and quickly disappeared.

  “You think it was drugged?”

  “There’s a good chance of it,” he said, “but we won’t know until we analyze the contents.”

  “I still don’t feel so good,” she said, her hand on her stomach, her face looking a little green.

  “We’re not going anywhere right now either. We’ll just stay here and relax, until you’re doing better and until we get some answers.”

  “So it’s the hospital after all, huh?”

  “Seems like the place to be, until we get answers,” he said.

  “I don’t really want to be left alone here,” she whispered.

  “Nobody’s leaving you alone,” he said. She looked at him sideways, but he smiled and said, “I promise.”

  She shrugged. “I know you’ve got other things to do.”

  “I do,” he said cheerfully. “But, since we already know each other,” he said, “I’m on babysitting duty.”

  At that, she didn’t know if she would laugh or cry. Thankfully laughter won out. “Wow,” she said. “It’s been a long time since anyone suggested I had to be babysat.”

  “Maybe,” he said, with a smile, “but, in this instance, it’s all good.”

  She nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

  He shook his head. “You’ll have to stop thanking me. I’m just doing my job, you know?”

  “Well, that’s a little hard to do,” she said, “and I am very grateful for all you’ve done, job or not.”

  “That sounds even worse,” he said, with a head shake.

  She glared at him. “That’s not fair.”

  “No,” he said, “but we’ll have you just sit here and relax, until the doctor comes back anyway.”

  She nodded. “You think it’d be okay if I slept a bit?”

  “That would be better still,” he said in surprise. “It would help clear your bloodstream of whatever vestiges of the drugs are still there. The fact is, you got most of it out just a moment ago, so that’ll help your recovery.”

  She nodded, then curled up on the bed at his side, and closed her eyes. “You’ll make sure nobody comes after me, right?” she said, her eyes popping open.

  “Yes,” he said reassuringly. “I promise I’ll stay here and make sure nobody kidnaps you.”

  Nodding, she sagged back onto the bed. Within a matter of minutes, she was asleep.

  He sat here, wondering how long it would take her to sleep on her own and to not worry about being kidnaped. He was grateful they’d found her when they had because he didn’t want to imagine just what this one gunman had in mind, but it wouldn’t have been good for her. He looked up as Hudson walked in and nodded.

  “I found it,” Hudson said and set it on the table.

  Baylor looked at it and said, “I remember her having a bottle of water, but I didn’t think anything of it.”

  “Only a little bit is gone,” he said, as he held it up. “So I don’t think she got very much of it. I’ll go get it analyzed.” Immediately he turned and walked out.

  Baylor sank back down, pulled up his phone, and quickly sent off a report, updating Mason and the rest of the team with what had happened. Mason called him minutes later.

  “The water was drugged?”

  “Yeah, looks like it. We’ll know for certain here pretty soon. I’m not sure, but it sounds like some arguments were had between the guards. One apparently wanted her for himself.”

  “Great,” Mason said. “So are you thinking that drugging her was his plan to get her out of there?”

  “I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” he said. “Also she confirmed that she wasn’t supposed to be on the trip at all. Only because of a last-minute plea from her mother did she go along.”

  “That’s interesting,” Mason said.

  “Do we have an update on the father’s condition?”

  “I’m supposed to get one here in the next little bit,” Mason said.

  “Somebody needs to check the mother too. Apparently, although her mother said it was a holiday because she was done with her chemo, Gizella didn’t seem to think her mother was telling the truth on that.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that too,” Mason said. “I’ll check back in ten.”

  And, with that, Baylor hung up and settled back to wait for Gizella to wake up. The doctor came in once or twice, checking on her and then always left again. That was good news in itself because they couldn’t be that worried if they walked away, but, at the same time, Baylor just wanted to get her out of here. He had only met her briefly, that one night wh
en they had sat in the corner and had talked for hours. He would be leaving the next morning, and she had been heading off somewhere too, but he couldn’t even remember where that was. He thought she was going on a holiday.

  They’d connected well that evening, and that had been it. They hadn’t slept together or even spent more than that one evening together, but he had recognized her as soon as he’d seen her, although he hadn’t really recognized her name or the relationship to her father. That didn’t say much about him and how little he remembered her. But, as soon as he’d seen her, he remembered her just fine. She’d been funny, happy-go-lucky, and lighthearted.

  He loved that. She hadn’t been a party girl, like the rest of the group, but she’d been so much more. Maybe just fun was the word he was looking for, he didn’t know, but they definitely had a connection, and he had planned on calling her later when he got back to base, but, even then, he never did.

  It had never happened, and that was at least four or five years ago. It was definitely before her mother’s bout with breast cancer, which had to have been hard on the whole family. Well, maybe not so much on Dad. Baylor wondered about the man’s lack of morality when it came to wedding vows. So many guys just didn’t think they mattered. And, hell, it wasn’t just men. It was people in general who didn’t think their vows mattered.

  They’d find something wrong in the marriage itself, and everything else would justify their decision to walk away and to try something else on for size. Or just to have a little fun with someone else and to bring some joy back into their lives, instead of solving the problem at hand. He never understood it himself. He was always a one-person-at-a-time kind of guy, and, if the relationship was done, it was done—only done when he knew there was no way to save it. He didn’t go into relationships easily because of that.

  Unlike a lot of his friends, who seemed to try on girls for size until they found one that they liked, but they didn’t always stick it out for the long term. It was as if it were a seasonal thing; they tried it on, and it was good for winter, but, come spring, it was no good anymore. He’d had one friend try to explain it to him in a similar vein, but Baylor just couldn’t understand because it was such a foreign concept to him.

 

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