Honoring Lena

by Sara Blackard

  “The bears?” She rolled her head back and tried to relax, but her body hurt from head to toe.

  “Gone.” Marshall scanned the area.

  Good. He was keeping his wits. Someone had to since the pain spiking through her kept her from thinking straight.

  “Carter?” She gazed at the boy that had taken over her heart.

  “He’s fine, Lena.” Marshall set Carter down beside him and scooted closer to her. “Did we get your arm back in the socket or make it worse?”

  He ran a jerky hand through his hair, making it stick up. His pained gaze flitted to her shoulder and down her body. How had she ever thought that he was a horrible person? Any time spent with him showed just how much he cared about others. These last two months, she could’ve been helping him more instead of letting her anger blind her.

  “Okay.” She huffed out a breath and moved her uninjured hand to probe her shoulder. “It feels like its back in. Help me sit up.”

  She tipped her head, motioning for Marshall to come to her other side. He stepped over her and gently wrapped his arms around her. Her muscles bunched with pain, and she did little to help him lift her. Once sitting, she leaned her forehead on his shoulder and breathed deeply to dam up the tears the movement had created.

  Marshall softly ran a hand down her back and kissed the top of her head. She didn’t want to move, his presence bringing a comfort she hadn’t felt in a long time. Lingering wasn’t an option, though, not in this open basin with little cover and the national park cabin still a good four-hour hike away.

  She sighed and lifted her head. “Let’s see how you did, Dr. Rand.”

  He snorted a laugh as he moved back to her side. “I’m definitely not a doctor.”

  Holding her elbow in her hand, she shrugged the injured shoulder. Pain spiked through it like a grizzly had just chomped down, but she could move it. She nodded and rotated it some more.

  “It’s in.” She hated the tremble in her voice. Hated the weakness it showed.

  “Thank God.” Marshall breathed out, and his head and shoulders slumped forward in relief.

  “Eena, you’s okay?” Carter inched forward.

  “Yeah, buddy. I’m okay.” She reached to him with her good arm and ran her fingers down his damp cheeks. “Just sore is all.” Cringing, she pulled her hand back to support her arm. “I’m going to need a sling.”

  “Right.” Marshall snatched his shirt from the ground and shook it out.

  Five minutes later, with her arm secure in a sling, she hiked hand in hand with Carter through the valley meadow. He chatted away like a squirrel about the bears and falling down the hill. His voice, full of excitement and wonder, pulled her in, both soothing her mind and battering her heart. Relief that he’d come out of the fall with nothing but a few small scrapes and bumps made her a little lightheaded. His love and affection coupled with Marshall’s trust and interest had her contemplating a future she’d thought long dead.

  She put her free hand to her aching head, running her fingers along her eyebrows before shaking off her confusing thoughts. Distractions did not belong in the Alaskan wilderness. If she wanted to get Carter and Marshall to safety, there couldn’t be any more mistakes. She had to push aside any thoughts of the future, and focus. Carter squeezed her arm in a hug and gazed up at her in adoration. Focusing had never been harder.

  “Will we see more bears?” Carter asked as he walked hand in hand with Lena.

  Marshall strode behind the pair, still a little shaken from his education in wilderness triage an hour earlier. When Lena had come around and promised him he hadn’t broken her, his relief had been so immense, he almost couldn’t get his tears bottled up fast enough. He’d helped her put her arm in a sling, gotten Carter a snack and water, and had repacked and strapped on the pack with this overwhelming sense of foreboding.

  How would they make it out of this when their guide and protector only had one arm? Marshall couldn’t kill ptarmigan with nothing but a rock. He could harvest mushrooms if she found them, but how would she have the energy to search when her very steps seemed to jar her with pain. She did a good job hiding what she must be feeling, but she couldn’t mask the tension that seemed to fill her entire body. It made her movements jerky and opposite of the grace that normally flowed through everything she did.

  Maybe when they made it to the cabin she hoped was downstream, it would be stocked with food and firewood and everything they’d need to survive until she was healed enough to lead them on in strength. He hoped it at least had a fishing pole or net or something that could help him be of some use. He’d become quite the proficient fly angler after spending summers at the upscale lodge his family went to every year. Of course, the likelihood of the remote cabin being stocked with anything useful was slim.

  A low noise that hadn’t been there before pricked his ear. He stopped and twisted his head, trying to place where it came from. Was it some kind of bird or bug flapping? He couldn’t pinpoint what or where it was.

  “Lena.” He closed the distance between them and picked up Carter. “Do you hear that?”

  He shushed Carter as Lena tipped her head to the side. Marshall tried to keep his cool since it was probably nothing, but his heart beat wildly in his chest. Her eyes widened and snapped to his.

  “Helicopter.” Her words released his tension in an unexpected whoosh, and his knees almost buckled.

  “Then we’re rescued.” He scanned the wide valley dotted with trees, trying to locate the growing sound.

  “Maybe.” Lena’s terse tone darted his gaze to hers. Her tense expression tightened all his muscles back to attention. “Maybe not.”

  Great. More danger and intrigue. He missed Kentucky. Missed only worrying about international business and making sure his company had what it needed to keep up with product demand. Missed the verbal warfare launched at him from the Capitol. Missed showering.

  “Quick, get in those willows.” Lena pointed toward a stand of brush and pulled her gun out of its holster.

  He clutched Carter close and dashed to cover. His dry mouth was more suited for the desert rather than a permafrost-ridden valley floor. He pushed as far as he could into the branches and crouched with his body over Carter’s. Lena kneeled before them, her gun pointed to the ground as she searched the sky.

  “There.” She pointed with her chin, and Marshall followed her gaze.

  The helicopter crested the mountain ridge they’d just come from, moving slowly to them like some Hollywood B movie. Would they open fire and pepper the brush with bullets? Did the occupants even know the three of them were there?

  “I have binoculars in the side pocket.” Lena didn’t take her eyes off the approach.

  Of course she did. She probably had a tent and marshmallows too. The back of Marshall’s neck tingled unpleasantly, and he rubbed it away. He shouldn’t let her preparedness affect him. He really shouldn’t … but he couldn’t help the way each new situation seemed to cut at his inability to protect them a little more. Stupid feelings, since logically, he knew that her knowledge of the woods and expertise to get them out of any situation had kept them alive, both here and in Idaho.

  He yanked the binoculars out of the pack and tapped her arm with them. “Here.”

  She placed them to her face and stared. The longer she looked, the more his muscles bunched, ready to dash like a rabbit. Where he’d go, he wasn’t sure. He scanned the open valley filled with low brush and open meadows. Maybe they’d just cower where they were.

  “Marshall, come look.” Lena held the binoculars out.

  He set Carter down, told him to stay put, and grabbed the binoculars. “What am I looking for?”

  “The person sitting in the door. I think it’s Gunnar, but … I also don’t think I can trust myself.” She sighed beside him. “I’m worried I’m just seeing Gunnar, because I want it to be him.”

  Marshall peered at the man hanging out the door. It sure looked like Lena’s brother, but what if Marshall’s
brain was just tricking him to think that? Another man leaned over, and Marshall’s hands trembled as he lowered the glasses.

  “It’s Gunnar. Bjørn is with him.” Marshall smiled at Lena.

  “Thank God.” Lena collapsed against him, her forehead pressing into his shoulder.

  He pushed her hair back and kissed the top of her head. His thoughts jumbled one on top of the other. The weight of not knowing if Bjørn had made it or not lifted, so Marshall felt like he could fly, but the unknown of what they’d do next had his mind whirling like the rotors of the helicopter.

  Lena lifted her head and pressed a shaky kiss to his lips. “We’re going to be okay now.”

  Could she read his mind, or did she need the reassurance as much as he did? He cupped the back of her head, kissing her deeply. She didn’t push him away. Rather, her fingers speared through his hair, and she smiled against his lips.

  “Go wave them down before they fly by.” As her hand slid down his neck and pushed on his shoulder, goosebumps spread along his skin.

  He was glad they’d been found, glad they didn’t have to worry about surviving Alaska, but he worried that what was building between him and Lena would disappear when this trek through the wilderness ended. He gave her one last peck before pushing out of the willows. He’d just have to make sure he kept them all together. Considering she didn’t seem completely opposed anymore, maybe all it would take was looking at all the angles and executing a well-laid plan.

  Could he woo Lena with the normal dinner dates and flowers? He snorted as he waved his hands above his head like an idiot. Maybe taking her to the shooting range and giving her the latest gadget designed using their material would be better.

  He glanced down at her as she stepped up next to him. That idea held merit. Would she be interested in helping him improve his product so her friend June could help more people? Or maybe together they could start some kind of training in self-protection and security that helped others use the safety gear to its optimum. Hoisting up Carter into his opposite arm, Marshall laced his other fingers with hers. Whatever happened, they could figure out where life would take them together.

  The helicopter touched down, and Bjørn and Gunnar raced toward them. Marshall could tell the moment Gunnar noticed Lena’s injury by the way his strides stretched even longer. Hopefully, he could reassure Marshall that he hadn’t broken her.

  “You okay?” Gunnar gently touched Lena’s elbow as Bjørn reached for Carter.

  “Yeah. Just popped it out of the socket.” Lena wrapped her arm around Gunnar’s back in an awkward hug. “Thankfully, Marshall got the stubborn thing back in.”

  “I just did what she told me.” He extended his hand to Gunnar, who took it firmly, then pulled him into a hug.

  “You three had us looking all over the place.” Gunnar stepped back.

  “How’d you find us?” Lena slid her hand back into Marshall’s, and he didn’t miss the smirk between her brothers.

  “Well, got a call from my search-and-rescue buddy who said he knew someone who wanted to help.” Bjørn motioned over his shoulder. “The pilot has a soft spot for lost children.” Bjørn tickled Carter’s belly. “Are you ready for a helicopter ride, little man?”

  “Yes!” Carter hugged Bjørn’s neck tightly. “Me so ’appy you’s here.”

  Bjørn cleared his throat. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”

  “How’d you get away?” Lena asked as they headed to the chopper.

  “Once they blew up my girl, they didn’t care about me anymore.” Bjørn’s tone barely repressed his anger. “They bugged out, and I got the HAM radio humming and called home.”

  “So my cabin’s okay?” Lena’s hand squeezed Marshall’s.

  “Yeah. They didn’t even trash it.” Bjørn shook his head as he lifted Carter into the chopper. “Climb on in, buddy.”

  Bjørn followed Carter in and got him buckled while Marshall helped Lena climb up. The pilot smiled and gave Marshall a thumbs up as he flipped switches. The co-pilot leaned toward the back of the vessel and lifted his headset.

  “We’re really glad we found you,” he hollered over the accelerating engine.

  “Me too,” Marshall choked out before turning in his seat to gaze out the window.

  He swallowed and blinked to clear the tears that pushed to the surface. His family was safe, for now. Gunnar and Bjørn peppered Lena with questions, prodding her arm and looking at her head injury, but Marshall couldn’t focus on any of it. His mind was too relieved to process everything, so he closed his eyes and let the thumping of the blades lull him to sleep. The helicopter jerked and jolted Marshall awake.

  “Welcome to Anchorage.” The co-pilot clapped Marshall on the shoulder as he crossed the vessel to get Carter out of his buckle.

  Marshall shook his head, surprised that the Rebels were already out of the chopper and a nurse, pushing a wheelchair, was running up. Marshall couldn’t wait to see Lena’s reaction. He jumped out of the door, eager to not miss what was sure to be a show, and turned to grab Carter. The co-pilot held Marshall’s son tightly against his body on the opposite side of the opening, a sinister smile across his face. Icy fear crashed over Marshall.

  The helicopter lifted, and Marshall lunged, snagging the skid with his hand. He yelled, but before he could wrap his other hand around the cold, hard metal, the pilot lifted with a jerk. The skid ripped from Marshall’s hand, taking his very soul from him in the whipping air. He fell to his knees, his ribs too tight to breathe, as the chopper rushed away with his son and disappeared into the horizon.

  Twenty-Two

  “They ditched the bird at Walker Field.” Bjørn stepped into the emergency room. “My buddy watched them land and take off in a jet less than a minute later.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “He’s looking into the flight route and call sign for me.”

  Lena’s chest burned like a moose sat on it, refusing to let her breathe. Marshall paced the short distance along the wall. He kept staring at his hands and flexing them. Nothing she said could erase his failure to save Carter.

  “I’m just going to take a look.” The doctor who refused to leave stepped in front of her with his otoscope at the ready.

  “I’m fine.” Lena swatted the doctor’s hand away as he flashed the light in her eyes.

  She pushed off of the examination table with her working arm, cringing as pain ratcheted through her entire body. It didn’t compare to the searing heat in her heart.

  “We need to leave. Zeke is setting up transport, so let’s get to the airfield.” She snatched her pack from the chair just as Gunnar strode into the room.

  “You done?” His gaze darted around the room.

  “Yes.”

  “No,” the doctor said at the same time as Lena, causing her to glare his way. To his credit, he didn’t flinch. “I haven’t looked at her arm yet or the abrasions.”

  “They’re fine.” Lena stomped out of the room. “We’re leaving now.”

  Marshall stepped up beside her, his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders slumped. Why hadn’t she stayed in the chopper until everyone was out? She’d let her guard down, and now the organization had Carter. She needed to come up with a plan, and fast.

  “Marshall, we’ll find him.” She slid her hand down his arm, but he flinched and pulled away. “I put trackers in his shoes. Rafe is pinpointing where he is now.”

  “What if they hurt him? What if—” Marshall’s voice cracked, and he shook his head. “What if I never see him again?” He speared her with a look so full of anguish, his pain almost doubled her over. “What kind of father lets a stranger take care of his son? Why didn’t I take him out of his seat myself?”

  They stopped at the curb, the cold, humid breeze from the ocean chilling her skin. She stepped into Marshall’s space, willing him to not blame himself. How were they to know the pilots were part of the organization after Marshall? She’d watched the co-pilot and his jovial act, like all he wanted to do was help. She had nev
er expected him to be a kidnapper, so why would Marshall?

  “Rafe will locate Carter, I promise.” Lena praised God that Rafe had been able to reverse-engineer the tracking device Piper’s stalker had used on her. “The trackers in Carter’s shoes are the best. We’ll figure out where they’re going, and then we’ll go get Carter back.”

  Marshall paced away, frustration rolling off of him. “They might kill him before that.” He turned back to her, his hands spreading wide before he speared his fingers in his hair and pulled. “I can’t lose him too.”

  She closed the distance between them and took his hand. “If they want you to cooperate, they need him alive. That will give us the time to mount an assault.”

  “But how will they even contact me to tell me what to do?” His confusion showed just how unnerved he was.

  “If they can find us in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness, I think they’ll be able to call you.” Lena threaded her fingers through his and pulled him to the vehicle Bjørn drove up to the curb in. “Come on. Let’s get in the air.”

  As they pulled away from the curb, Gunnar turned in the passenger seat. “I’ve been wondering about how they set all this up.” His forehead creased, and he shook his head. “The pilot acted like he didn’t know where to go, but he was pretty insistent on going the way we went. We talked through possibilities, and his thoughts made just as much sense as anything we came up with.”

  “Maybe they were just banking on us finding them.” Bjørn turned onto Tudor Road as he made his way to Ted Stevens International. “They infiltrate our troops, they don’t have to work so hard.”

  Just like they’d infiltrated the military and sabotaged the Colombia mission, killing Ethan. Just like they’d used General Paxton’s friend Colonel Johnson to get to June and her Supersuit. They influenced civilians like Kiki’s family and government officials like the colonel to reach their gains, sliding their slippery tentacles into every possible crevice. General Paxton didn’t need a small team to stop whoever was behind this. He needed an army. With everything she knew, how could she not join him in this fight? She peeked at Marshall, who stared at his hands clenched between his legs. How could she not do everything she could so more families weren’t destroyed?