Honoring Lena

by Sara Blackard

  “Yeah, but it could’ve taken us days to find them.” Gunnar huffed.

  “We wouldn’t give up.” Bjørn shrugged. “They—”

  Born to be Wild blared through the cab, causing her to jump. Gunnar twisted in the seat and pulled out his phone. Her lips twitched as she watched him, though nothing about this situation was funny. At least some things never changed. That her brother still claimed that song as his eased her tension a little. With him and Bjørn here, she didn’t have to figure this out alone.

  “Hello?” Gunnar answered the call, a hesitance in his voice. His eyebrows shot up, and he handed the phone back. “Marshall, it’s for you.”

  Bjørn swerved into The Bear Paw parking lot and slammed into a spot. Marshall’s hand shook as he took the phone from Gunnar. What would they demand now? Lena placed her hand on Marshall’s leg and mouthed “Speaker.”

  He took a deep breath, tapped the speaker icon, and cleared his throat. “This is Marshall.”

  “Mr. Rand, you’ve been a troublesome man to track down.” The cultured voice of a woman shouldn’t have surprised Lena with how Kiki’s aunt had been running the organization’s complex in Colombia, but it did.

  “Well, when someone pulls a gun on my family, I take that as my cue to leave.” Marshall impressed Lena with his steady voice and banter. “Where’s my son?”

  “Now, see, here’s the thing.” She tsked. “You keep causing problems with the changes you’ve made to your business, Mr. Rand, and we don’t like it.”

  Marshall shot Lena a confused look. “So this isn’t about the term bill?”

  The woman’s laugh twisted Lena’s stomach like she was a salmon on a fish wheel. The flippancy unnerved her. Like this was all a game, and they were the pawns.

  “We couldn’t care less about that bill.” Her tone implied Marshall was an idiot. “People are people and easily manipulated. It doesn’t matter how long someone’s in office. We’ll still get our way.”

  “Then why worry about me at all?” Marshall’s calm tone slipped as red anger rose up his neck.

  “Because your support of Reagan MacArthur or June Paxton, whatever she’s calling herself these days, is creating a headache.” The laughter had left her tone, replaced with cold calculation. “Enough of this. We need to have a meeting to discuss the future of your business, Mr. Rand. You will meet us in Kentucky. Don’t even consider pulling any heroics. We know where you are. We know how you think. You know we aren’t afraid of making our point with force.” Her voice turned pleasant, like she was talking to an old friend. “I’m craving brunch at Coles, 735 Main, tomorrow morning, eleven sharp. Their grits are to die for.”

  The screen went black as the call cut off. The silence that filled the cab contained so much tension, Lena could’ve sliced through it. They had just less than twenty-four hours to figure out a plan and get Carter back.

  “That’s my favorite restaurant.” Marshall’s whisper shattered the stillness. “Carter loves their mac and cheese.”

  Something about what the woman had said needled Lena. Had their enemy really known all along where they were? Was that how they had snuck up to the cabin? If Bjørn hadn’t arrived when he had, the men could have surrounded the cabin without Lena even noticing. It was obvious the chopper pilots had known where to look for the Rands.

  But how? How could they know exactly where to find Marshall? Lena stared at him as he flipped the phone over in his hands. Her head pounded and her shoulder felt like someone was stabbing a red-hot poker in it, but she had to push through and figure out what eluded her. Then she remembered something that Piper’s stalker had said.

  “Marshall, give me your wallet.” She reached out her hand, her pulse increasing with each second.

  He reached into his pocket. The brown leather was warm and soft in her hand as she opened it. Please, let me be right. She began pulling out business card after business card.

  “Lena, what—”

  She cut off Marshall’s question. “My friend’s stalker tracked her with a business card he’d given her. He’d been selling his inventions to the black market.” A lightness filled her chest as she spied the same metallic threading that had been on the card Piper had. “Looks like our favorite terrorist organization liked his design.”

  “I don’t understand.” Marshall snagged the card and looked at it with wide eyes. “This is Patrick Walker’s card. He’s the investor from Moving Forward. I … he’s excited about helping June get more units to the military.”

  “Looks like he’s playing both sides.” Bjørn scowled as he grabbed the card from Marshall’s fingers and whistled low. “This is some fancy tech.”

  “Yeah, Rafe said it’s some of the best he’s seen.” Lena scooted forward in her seat, a plan formulating in her head. “Listen, they don’t know that we know about this. What if we can use it to our advantage?”

  “What are you thinking?” Bjørn speared her with the satisfied look he’d get as a kid when he made up a new game to play.

  “Well, if we split up and send Marshall on one plane, I can meet up with Stryker, maybe call in General Paxton’s team, and get Carter before Marshall’s meeting is supposed to happen.” Lena’s voice rose as the idea solidified in her head.

  “No.” Marshall shook his head, his voice resolute.

  “What?” Lena’s mouth gaped as she turned to him. Didn’t he see this was the best way to get Carter back?

  “No. I’m not leaving Carter’s rescue to someone else.” Marshall’s determined gaze built Lena’s frustration up. “If something happens, I want to be there. I have to be there.”

  “It’s the only way to have an element of surprise.” Lena tried to tamp down her annoyance.

  “We can figure something else out.” Marshall clenched his jaw and crossed his arms.

  “What if we have a decoy?” Gunnar rubbed his cheek as he stared out the windshield.

  “What?” Lena and Marshall said at the same time.

  “Well, they only have to think it’s Marshall.” Gunnar looked between her, Marshall, and Bjørn. “What if someone pretended to be Marshall, took the business card, and acted like he was going home?”

  “The decoy could wear a hat and sunglasses.” Bjørn shook his finger like the plan held merit.

  Marshall’s jaw shifted as he thought. “I could have my parents pick the decoy up at the airport. I’m close to them, and it wouldn’t be out of the norm for me to go to their place in a moment of distress. They’d play along to get Carter back.”

  Lena slashed her hand between the seats. “Stop. It won’t work. We’d have to have the decoy here. We can’t just pull someone out of our pocket.”

  “Actually …” Gunnar’s smile turned Lena’s stomach. “Remember, Sunny’s team is back here organizing their equipment for the winter now that Denali’s summit season is done. We can ask her friend Gavin if he could help. He’s built a lot like Marshall.”

  “In fact, if Sunny pretended to be you, Lena, that would sell the ploy even more.” Bjørn’s words had all the men turning their penetrating gazes on her.

  She didn’t want her little sister anywhere near this mess, but she had to admit it could work. It was bad enough that they had pulled Gunnar and Bjørn in. What if one of them got hurt? What if involving them brought this organization down on her family?

  “Lena, we’ll be okay.” Gunnar placed his hand on her knee. “I can tell you’re worried about us, that you’re pushing us away again. But we Rebels are a stubborn bunch, and when they took Carter, they brought the Rebel wrath upon them.”

  “Not to mention what they did to my baby girl,” Bjørn grumbled about his chopper, causing Gunnar to roll his eyes.

  “Okay. Let’s see if the manager will let us use their phone.” Lena swallowed. “I don’t trust calling from yours.”

  Her brothers pushed open their doors and headed inside, though worry the size of a glacier lodged in her core. Would she lose everything to this organization, not only Ethan
but her siblings as well? Marshall wrapped his warm hand around hers. His sorrowed expression pushed her worry to the background where it could still chill her but didn’t consume all her thoughts. She might lose everything, but she couldn’t let Carter and Marshall suffer any more than they already had.

  Twenty-Three

  Marshall shifted in his seat, the interior of Zeke’s private jet closing in on him with each new detail layered on their rescue plan. Zeke and the entire Stryker team had met them in Salt Lake, and they were now strategizing as they flew to Kentucky. The flights had been long and tried Marshall’s patience.

  “I’ve tracked Carter to a warehouse on the outskirts of Lexington.” Rafe Malone, a man with slick red hair and, supposedly, a genius brain, clicked a button on his computer from where he sat across the cabin and pulled up a satellite image of a rundown building onto the big screen located at the front of the plane.

  “I’m going to pretend that I’m not watching you hack into the government’s satellites, understanding that this isn’t a regular occurrence,” General Paxton said, his eyebrow lifting. The team had called Paxton via video-conference the instant everyone had gotten settled after taking off at Salt Lake.

  “Yes, sir. Never done this before, sir.” Rafe’s smile negated his words.

  Paxton shook his head as Zeke stepped up to the screen, his hand rubbing his chin as he examined the building. There was something about the warehouse that needled at Marshall’s brain. He leaned forward and squinted at the image. What was it about the nondescript thing that had his pulse pounding in his throat? The pink roof of the security house at the gate drew his attention.

  “No.” Marshall’s disbelief whooshed out in a hoarse whisper.

  He stood on shaky legs and moved closer to the screen.

  “Marshall, what is it?” Lena grabbed his hand as he passed her seat, startling him from his trance.

  “That’s my warehouse.” Marshall’s dry throat made his voice croak.

  Zeke swiveled to him, his hand dropping from his chin. “You sure?”

  “The pink roof.” Marshall stepped up to the screen and pointed. His knees trembled beneath him. “Amara had it installed as a joke after a windstorm tore the old one off.” He licked his lips and closed his eyes. “They killed her on her way home from there. I shut it down shortly after. It’s far out of town … and too many memories.”

  The cabin of the plane, which had hummed with noise and talking, fell into an eerie quiet. Frigid cold seeped into Marshall’s skin and froze his muscles. What kind of sick game were these people playing?

  “This is good.” Zeke clapped his hand on Marshall’s shoulder and squeezed. “This gives us an added advantage.”

  Marshall clenched his jaw, nodding in response. Whatever the reasoning behind picking his own warehouse, he’d use it against their enemies. He’d shove the irony down their throats and make them choke on it.

  He turned to Rafe and crossed his arms. “All the specs on the building, security, layout, everything, are stored on the mainframe of my company. Should be easy for you to hack.”

  “Easy peasy.” Rafe clicked on his keyboard with a satisfied smile on his lips.

  “One, two, threesy.” Jake, a gruff man that had said little since Marshall and the Rebels had gotten on the plane, answered with a chuckle.

  “Ay caray, we’ve been hanging around Eva too much.” Sosimo, June’s husband and the only Stryker man Marshall actually knew, threw up his hands in exasperation.

  The team all shook their heads and laughed softly. Marshall scanned the men willing to risk their lives for his son. He paused on the Rebel brothers, their heads leaned in together as they whispered. Then his gaze collided with Lena’s and held. Her brothers’ low words drew her eyes to them. The muscles in her cheek jumped, then she went back to examining the image on her tablet. The chill in Marshall’s body froze solid. What else would she have to sacrifice because of him?

  “The security feed is a closed circuit. I won’t be able to hijack it until I can hook in.” Rafe shrugged like it was no big deal. “With dawn still an hour out from when we arrive, it’ll still be dark and shouldn’t be a problem getting in to the building.”

  Lena rotated her arm in the socket and winced at the sharp pain lingering there. Quickly needing to cover her discomfort, she grabbed her tablet and shoved it into the bag the team had packed for her. She couldn’t afford for anyone to notice she wasn’t a hundred percent. The plane was thirty minutes out, so they were finishing up their attack plans with General Paxton.

  “My team is waiting at the rendezvous point a half mile from the target with your face masks.” General Paxton leaned back in his chair, his sigh coming loudly through the screen. “I don’t want any of you identified on the off chance they haven’t clued into Stryker’s involvement.”

  Lena snorted, then shook her head when Marshall turned to her and raised his eyebrow. This organization seemed to know everything about everyone. They probably knew what color of underwear each of them wore. Unless Rafe had somehow wiped clean her association to Stryker, there was no way the terrorists hadn’t connected the Rand-Stryker dots.

  “I buried Lena pretty deep, created a fake security business for her, so hopefully you’re right.” Rafe pulled at his hair as Lena nodded. Made sense Rafe would create a cover for her cover. “But these guys keep popping back up on us like a bad case of acne.”

  Equal parts chuckling and groaning filled the cabin. The horrible joke seemed to cue the end of the meeting as everyone began packing things up. Lena’s anxiety had tightened her muscles to the point of snapping with each minute that passed. Was Carter all right? Had whoever taken him hurt him? She slowly let out a deep breath as anger and worry threatened to overwhelm her. She had to keep sharp, stay focused. Otherwise, she’d be useless during this mission, or worse, she’d get someone killed.

  “Lena, I still haven’t forgotten our conversation when I visited the ranch this spring.” General Paxton’s words snapped her head to the screen. “I still want you on my team.”

  Everyone froze, and silence filled the cabin as all eyes turned to her. Heat rose up her neck, and sweat slicked her palms. Marshall shifted in her peripheral, and she willed herself not to look at him.

  “I’m still thinking about it, sir.” Her answer elicited grumbles from the men, and Marshall’s forehead scrunched so much his eyebrows almost touched.

  Paxton sat forward and poked his finger at the camera. “We could use someone like you. I’m heading your way in five, so I’ll see y’all at the rendezvous point when it’s all done.”

  “Yes, sir.” Zeke ended the call.

  Lena used the chaos of movement as everyone got busy getting ready to land to slip into the galley at the back of the jet. She needed a space to collect her thoughts. Since the chopper pilots had taken Carter, she hadn’t had a second to calm her stormy mind. Questions and doubts built and tumbled like a building winter blizzard over the Alaskan range. She shouldn’t drag her siblings into this. Would they get to Carter in time? Could her heart take it if they didn’t? She feared the answers and worried if she couldn’t get her emotions under control, she’d be a liability.

  As she reached the galley, a firm hand snagged her elbow and dragged her the rest of the way in to the area. Bjørn snapped the curtain closed that separated the small kitchen from the rest of the cabin and turned his eyes, full of challenge, to her. Brothers. They never knew when to leave her be.

  “What do you mean, you’re thinking about it?” Bjørn crossed his arms, and she backed into the counter.

  “Exactly what I said.” Lena balled her hands at her sides, not sure if she wanted to punch him in the face or collapse into a lump and cry over her inability to protect Carter. Since crying never helped anything, she kept her arms rigid at her sides so she wouldn’t give in to her first inclination.

  He swung his arms wide, motioning toward the cabin. “What about what you have with Marshall? The family you could have with
him and Carter? I saw the way you looked at Marshall when we found you. For the first time since Ethan died, a spark of life—of hope— radiated from you. You’re thinking about throwing that away to join Paxton’s team? You know how deep undercover that team is operating. You do that, you lose any chance of a life beyond revenge and hate.”

  “What about justice?” Lena poked Bjørn in the chest, her whisper harsh though she wanted to shout. “What about making the people behind Ethan’s death and Carter being kidnapped pay for the pain and slaughter they’ve caused?”

  He whacked her hand aside and stepped closer. Her eyes filled with tears that no amount of blinking could dry up. His face softened, and she clenched her teeth.

  “What if the justice you’re supposed to give is in supporting a man fighting to do everything in his power to counter this organization’s attempts at weakening the nation’s defenses?” He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “What if you’re meant to help Marshall make his business even better so that more soldiers will have the protection June’s inventions give them? You’ve always had laser focus, but I think you’re zeroing in on the wrong thing.”

  “I can’t … I can’t think about that right now.” She trembled and desperately wanted to flee.

  “But you can think about Paxton and his secret commandos?” He lifted an eyebrow in challenge. He, out of all the other siblings, had always been able to read her.

  Her breath hitched in her lungs as she gazed at him. She turned her head and stared at the wall. Didn’t he realize that dredging this up now would only make it harder to focus? He pulled her into a hug, and she leaned her head on his chest.

  “You love Marshall and Carter.” He whispered the statement she couldn’t refute. “You’re willing to walk away from that?”