by Dale Mayer
“He’s looking for our middleman, our latest shooter,” he said calmly.
She stared at him and said, “He’s out there alone?”
“No, Dane’s out there too.”
“Ah.” She frowned at that. “That sounds better,” she said, staring off in the distance. “But they won’t likely find these shooters, will they?”
“We have satellite tracking up right now,” he said, “but my job is to look after you. I haven’t checked in with them to see if they have any news, but they’ll let me know if there’s any change in the situation.”
“Are we likely to be found here?”
“Is it likely? No. But possible? Yes,” he said. “So that’s why we’re sitting in this back corner, and I’m keeping an eye on the surroundings.”
“How can you keep an eye on everything like that?” she asked in wonder.
He looked at her in surprise. “Remember that part about it’s what I do?”
She nodded slowly. “It’s just so hard to fathom,” she said. “You don’t think about anybody having that kind of an awareness in their life all the time.”
“And we wouldn’t want anybody to,” he said. “The world functions with everybody happily ignorant of all this chaos going on around them, until they brush up against it, like you have.”
“You’re right,” she said quietly. “I had no idea.”
“Your father did to a certain extent—but not like this time.”
“No, I’m sure none of us would have gone on that trip if we’d had any idea it could end up the way it did.”
“Of course not,” he said. “Most people don’t have a death wish. Some out there don’t place any value on life and figure, if death comes, it comes. Others want to go out in a blaze of glory because they think it’ll leave this great legacy, like their name will be revered or something. Yet, all too often, they just become dust, and nobody remembers their name at all, or, if they do, it’s with disgust.”
“So sad, isn’t it? The things that we do and all these weird forms of justice.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. So she went on, trying to explain. “It’s just, you know, all the crazy things we do in the name of justice or in the name of revenge or even in the name of religion,” she said, by way of further explanation.
“Ah,” he said, “you’re quite right. It’s pretty silly when you look at some of it, but, to some people, it’s everything.”
“I’ve never really had any religious background,” she said, “and maybe that was missing in my life.”
As he studied her features, he saw the strain all this had had on her. He understood that this wasn’t a world that most people ever became accustomed to. But he had to admit that he thrived on it, and most of his cohorts did as well, but that’s because they were out there, chasing bad guys. Like the cops-and-robbers games from a young age had matured into a passionate life of catching the villains.
He knew, at some point in time, he’d have to change his direction. As his body aged, he wouldn’t be in prime condition to hunt down these criminals in quite the same way. It was already in the back of his mind, wondering what pathway he wanted to take. But that point in time was a good four to even eight years off for some SEALs—maybe earlier, depending on how the missions went. But Baylor also did want a family at some point in time, including children. As he sat here, staring at her long fingers, he had to wonder at the fate that had brought them together again.
“What are you thinking about?”
His lips quirked. “Honestly?”
She nodded, looking at him intently.
“Family and children.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Wow, that’s a surprise. Do you have any?”
“Oh,” he said, “I guess we’ve never mentioned that, but no. I don’t have a permanent relationship or a family anywhere. But it is something that I do want at some point in time.”
“I can understand that,” she said. “I always thought I’d have a family too, but somehow that just didn’t seem to work out.”
“You still have lots of time though,” he said.
“I do. I know. It just never really became much of an issue. I had a long-term relationship that I thought would end up in marriage, but he didn’t want children. At that point I just got accustomed to thinking that I wouldn’t have that stereotypical family that so many people have. And, when we split up, I just never changed my outlook.”
“That’s probably because you didn’t have any reason to,” he said. “It would be that next long-term relationship that would change it for you.”
She smiled. “That’s kind of how it works, isn’t it?”
“Often, yes, it is,” he said, with a nod. “When you think about it, we’re very affected by the people in our lives. It’s funny how we don’t really consider that, until it happens.”
“And yet I have girlfriends,” she added thoughtfully, “and that’s all they really wanted—having a family.”
“That’s just how some women are geared,” he said. “And I guess maybe men too. It’s not a case of one or the other.”
“I’ve never really known any men geared that way,” she said, “although I’ve known lots who were happy to have a family, once it happened in their lives.”
“I think we’re all just so different,” he murmured, “yet patently the same.”
She nodded. “I think you’d make a great father,” she said impulsively.
He looked at her, a slow dawning smile. “And likewise, you’d make a great mother.”
She chuckled. “Listen to us,” she said. “It’s like we’re setting out our hopes and dreams and discussing our future already.”
“Well, we’ve already established that we’ll see each other when this is over.”
Her smile fell away. “And you promise me that it will be over, right?”
“I promise,” he said.
“Then, yes, absolutely. We’ve already got that established,” she said, now laughing.
“Now that we know we both want children at some point in time,” he said, he left the rest unsaid, raising one eyebrow suggestively.
At that, she started to chuckle yet again. She pulled her fingers from his and said, “Why don’t we focus on these cinnamon buns right now.”
“Hey, I’m all for that,” he replied. “It’s just, you asked what I was thinking.”
“And it was fascinating,” she said. “I am really interested. You’re very different than most people I know.”
“Ooh, I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” he said, “but I’ll take it.”
She smiled yet again. “And you make me laugh,” she said, “and, right now, that’s also very nice.”
“Life is hard for all of us,” he said. “Sometimes laughter is what we need.”
“Always. We definitely need laughter,” she said, with a half smile, looking wistful. “It’s what kept my mother and me going throughout her treatments.”
He nodded as he watched her expression droop with sadness. “And it’s hard,” he said, “watching somebody go through something like that. It’s like there’s just never any end, and you can’t understand why it happened to you or to her.”
“Exactly,” she said. “It was such a hit-or-miss thing that you wonder what you did wrong to make the world hate you so much.”
“When the truth is, nobody hated you at all. Just one of those things that nobody can ever explain, and we can’t ever change those events either.”
“And that makes it even harder,” she said passionately. “You’d think, with all the money we have available to us in this world, that we would have found a way to solve or cure cancer by now, but instead the billionaires are becoming trillionaires, and we’re letting these crazy diseases take over the world, impacting an ever-widening circle of our people, with no end in sight.”
“And yet some people donate huge fortunes to decipher these disease codes, so they can find cures and vaccines for them.”
She nodded as sh
e took another bite of the cinnamon bun, then closed her eyes for a moment, absolutely enjoying every mouthful.
His heart swelled, and dammit if he didn’t feel pressure in his groin at the absolute passion and innocence she revealed in her joy. “That must be a very good cinnamon bun,” he said, his voice thickening.
Immediately her eyelids shot open, and she stared at him, and he could feel the heat arcing between them. She took a long deep breath and whispered, “It is.”
He nodded, tearing away his gaze and staring down at his own cinnamon bun that he hadn’t even tried yet.
“Looks like it might be a little too deadly though,” she whispered.
His lips quirked. “Too hot to touch?”
“Or too hard to handle.”
He looked up in surprise. “There is nothing that you can’t handle. I’ve watched you these last few days,” he said, “and you have been nothing short of dynamite.”
Her gaze warmed, and she smiled. “In that case, you’re on.”
He wasn’t even sure what that meant, but he felt something shifting and changing between the two of them. “Man,” he said, “I can’t wait until this is over.”
“Ha, you brought it up.”
“Nope, you started it with that cinnamon bun.”
At that, she burst out laughing and said, “You’re right. As long as you finish this crazy kidnapping event, I’m good.”
He swallowed hard, nodded, and focused on the cinnamon bun, before things got really crazy.
At that, she chuckled, then leaned over gently and stroked the back of his fingers. “You should try yours. It’s so delicious.”
“I’m trying it,” he said, and, taking a deep breath, he picked it up and chomped onto a decent-size mouthful. The thing was, she was right; it was delicious, swoon-worthy. He found himself just barely holding back, and she laughed at him.
“See? They’re a hell of an aphrodisiac.”
“They’re deadly,” he said, staring at it.
“And yet,” she murmured, “I can’t quite get enough.”
With that, he found the same heat building between them again. He shook his head. “Definitely not the time or place.”
“Sometimes,” she said, with that knowing smile, “you can’t control it. It happens whether we like it or not.”
He nodded. “I get that,” he said. “But wow. We’ll go up in flames, if we ever get time alone together.”
“And I’m not against that at all,” she said. “After all the shit I’ve been through this week, I’m kind of looking forward to it.”
“Kind of? What’s that? Damning faint praise?”
She burst out laughing yet again. “See? The laughter between us is so wonderful.”
“There’s also a lot of heat,” he admitted.
“And that is also wonderful,” she said calmly and quietly. “It’s just a matter of how we handle the rest of it.”
“Well, neither of us are youngsters anymore,” he said. “Not that we’re old, but we’re certainly not eighteen.”
“We’ll just need to hold everything in check, until we have time to be together properly,” she murmured.
He nodded, his gaze locked on hers. “I guess it’s all good, huh?”
“You think?” she said, chuckling.
Such an odd conversation to have in the middle of an op. Just then his phone rang.
She looked at him in surprise. “It always seems to be phone calls these days. Phone calls or texts.”
He shifted back slightly, studying the area around him, as he asked, “Hudson, what’s up?” He listened as Hudson spoke. “Interesting,” Baylor murmured, hearing of their efforts to find the shooter. “Okay, how far away do you think?”
Hudson replied, “About two hundred yards, heading in your direction. I don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose or if that just happens to be a popular spot for a rendezvous,” he said. “But heads-up, he’s coming your way.”
“We’re still in the coffee shop,” he said.
“I’ll meet you there in a few minutes, if I can.” And, with that, Hudson hung up.
Baylor looked at her and said, “The shooter and Hudson are both on their way here, or in this direction anyway.” He held up a hand to stall her questions. “We don’t know if the shooter’s coming to the coffee shop or if he’s coming to this general shopping area.” At that, she nodded. He looked around, studied the area, and made a sudden decision. “Let’s go.”
As if understanding the change in his tone, she immediately put down her cup of coffee and stood. As they walked out toward the front entrance, she asked, “Where are we going?”
He stopped at the front bay window and studied the outside area, as every instinct inside him was screaming to run. But he knew, if they ran outside in that direction, there was a good chance the sniper would get them. Somebody else pulled open the door and stepped inside. As she went to go out, he held her back.
She stopped, looked up at him, and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” he said in a harsh voice.
Chapter 11
Gizella watched outside, when she was suddenly jerked in the opposite direction.
Baylor, his voice low and speaking close to her ear, said, “Come on. We’re going out the other way.”
She followed him, only to be quickly switched around, so that she was in front of him. She knew it was a defensive position, a move made on his part to protect her, but, at the same time, she wished that his big back weren’t such an easy target. As they made their way to a rear exit and out to a parking lot, she stopped and stared. “Is this any better?”
“It is,” he said. He nudged her forward.
She took several more steps, expecting to be led to the parking lot itself, when a vehicle drove up right in front of them. She stepped back with a gasp, but Baylor opened the door and ushered her into the back seat. As she got in, she saw Dane behind the wheel. “Wow,” she said, “you guys change vehicles all the time, don’t you?”
“We change as much as we need to,” Dane said, and, as soon as the doors were closed, he took off.
She understood, but it was still amazing to her that, one, there was that kind of money available, and, two, that they had the skills. She couldn’t even begin to guess if these were legal vehicle rentals or not. She assumed that nobody wanted to have their real names noted on any paperwork. Which is what she suspected had happened with her father. “Did we ever figure out if it was my father’s signature on that vehicle registration?”
“No, it wasn’t,” Baylor replied. “It was just a quick attempt to discredit him in this whole thing.”
“Right, so that puts us back to possible government involvement then,” she said, with a sigh.
“It’s never quite that simple,” he said, “and the chances of ever finding out who’s behind this might be very slim. We’re better off to just find our way out of this local mess for right now.”
“I get that,” she said, “but I don’t want my father’s name besmirched in all this.” At that, she could feel Baylor’s glance in her direction. She shrugged as she looked over at him. “He’s still my father,” she said quietly. He gave her the gentlest of smiles that made her heart swell with happiness, and he nodded with approval.
“You’re doing very well with all this,” he said.
She reached across, laced her fingers with his, and said, “It doesn’t really feel like it. There are scenarios where I’m very comfortable and scenarios where I’m not,” she said. “But this? This is so foreign that I don’t even know how to get comfortable with it.”
“Hopefully you won’t be in it long enough to be comfortable or to have time to adapt,” he said. Baylor squeezed her fingers and just held her hand.
She looked over at him. “Where are we going now?” she asked.
“Another safe house for the night,” he said.
She nodded. “So do you guys have safe houses all over the place?”
“
To a certain extent, but we can also create a safe house fairly quickly,” he said.
“I would have thought it would have to be set up years in advance,” she said.
“But, when you think about it, various governments have been operating for years in these countries, so we can also utilize the safe houses of those countries, if they are allies.”
“I guess I hadn’t considered that,” she said. “When you say, safe house, I assume nobody knows about it.”
“And, most of the time, nobody does know. Usually even the people who should be in them don’t know,” he said with a chuckle.
She smiled. “Well, as soon as we get somewhere,” she said, “I’m getting tired again.”
“Naptime, huh?” He studied her and asked, “What about the drugs in your system?”
“I’m pretty sure they’re long gone,” she said, but just then she yawned a huge mouth-widening yawn. “Maybe not,” she said. “I am still feeling pretty sleepy.”
“Well, sleepy is better than anything else,” he said. “Your body needs to rest from all these shocks as well. Just the emotional trauma alone has got to be really hard on you.”
“It is,” she said. “I can’t wait until we fly out tomorrow.” When he didn’t say anything, she looked over at him.
“There hasn’t been a change of plans, has there?”
He shook his head. “No, not yet.”
She winced at that. “I really would like to make that flight.”
It was Dane from the front seat who said, “Hey, we all want to leave. We’ll all go together.”
“I guess that makes a difference, doesn’t it?”
“Not really,” he said, “but we all want to go home too, so we’re doing our best to make it happen,” he said. “We have to get these guys off our backs, and then hopefully we can make it out of the country shortly thereafter.”
“We were supposed to talk about setting a trap,” she said, looking at Baylor. “But somehow that conversation didn’t happen.” He slid her a sideways grin. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Not really,” he said, “but, of course, I don’t want to set a trap where you’re the bait.”