“Don’t you get it, I am involved. This whole mess is because I’m involved.” Her voice rose, and a couple of pensioners at the next table swiveled like a pair of bobble heads, hoping to catch some juicy gossip for the next senior’s bridge game, no doubt.
Sara waited until they gave up trying to turn up their hearing devices and turned back to complaining about so and so’s dog peeing in the hydrangea’s. Lowering her voice, she said, “I get that you’re worried about me, and I appreciate it, really. But here’s the thing. My whole life, decisions have been made for me, and I’ve had no choice but to follow along. Even after I was married—actually it was worse when I was married. I need to choose my own path, Nick. I need to be responsible for my own resolution, my own life. I know what we’re attempting to do is dangerous. I admit I’d like nothing better than to take my daughter and run as fast and far as I can go to get away from here, but what’s that going to accomplish? Another town, another identity, how many times should I put Jess through that?”
Bridging the gap between them, Sara slid her cool fingers between his, and closed her eyes briefly at the sensation of his skin against hers. Then, scanning his face to try and ascertain whether anything she’d said made any kind of impact on him, she continued, “Nick, please. Trust me. Help me to do this.”
He sat for a long while, gazing out the window as he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. She’d almost given up hope when he looked back to her, resolution in the strong planes of his face. He gave a light squeeze before turning them over and setting a soft kiss to her palm, closing the fingers gently to seal it “We’re going to need to prepare so you’re ready for anything he might throw at you.”
“So that means you’ll help?”
“Yeah, I’ll help.”
Chapter Nineteen
Frank and Jared stood in the southern satellite terminal of Seattle’s SEA-TAC Airport for the agents to clear security. Rain splashed against the glass making wavy grey ribbons of the runways as aircraft of varying dimensions landed and took off like an intricate dance choreography.
Frank turned from his search for Holt—for about the tenth time, not that he was counting—and gazed at the slumped shoulders and blurred face of his friend reflected in the window. He knew it’d been hard for Jared going home. He’d tried to talk to him about it a few times over the years but Jared remained close-mouthed. You could ask the guy almost anything else, from a date he’d been on the night before, to how to hotwire a car, and he was happy to share, but ask about his hometown? Not so much. The fastest way Frank knew to morph the easy-going man they all knew into Mr. Inimical.
Talk of home was a way to keep the ghouls at bay. They’d all been so Goddamn close as a unit, it was hard to imagine any of them holding secrets from the others. That kind of life, it bled out the confidences, a way to pass the long dark hours lying in their tents waiting on the next adrenalin-fueled mission.
Speaking of ghosts. The wavy mirage taking shape in the glass to his right was the spitting image of Adam O’Connor. His curly blond hair and pretty boy looks gaining him adoring looks from passersby, caused Frank to grin in remembrance. The apparition gained substance as it came to a halt a few feet behind him, and Frank wasn’t grinning anymore. He rubbed his eyes, half afraid to turn around in case what he’d seen was all a figment of his imagination. Jared’s eyes bugged out of his head as he looked at the phantom in the glass before pulling a one eighty and falling back against the cool panes as reality almost knocked him off his feet, and Frank knew. Secrets indeed.
“Hello, Sir, it’s been a while.”
“Holy, sweet Mary, mother of Christ.” Jared whispered.
Slowly revolving around on the broken down heels of his old boots, Frank barely acknowledged the pretty Agent Holt, now standing a step in front of O’Connor as if prepared to protect him, which she just might need to do. His gaze moved to his old teammate and cataloged five years of changes even as he brushed past the vigilant Maggie, grasping Adam in a body-clinching man hug.
Emotions like a volcano set to erupt bubbled inside him. His throat locked and tears sprang to his tightly closed eyes. All these years of anger and pain over the loss of yet another important person in his life. Yet now here he was, holding him in his arms. Alive.
Reluctant to let him go in case he disappeared, he eased back, adjusting to the reality of seeing his friend. Gone were the laugh lines around his mouth and chocolate brown eyes. Gone were the ropey muscles and lean form. This Adam had broader shoulders and well-defined musculature, his lean face more mature, his eyes seasoned, sure.
“You’re looking pretty Goddamned healthy—for a dead man.” Frank said, dealing with the problem directly, no use beating around the bush.
“Yeah, about that…”
Jared, still looking a little shell-shocked, came up and punched Adam hard in the jaw, setting him back a step. “You cocksucker, scaring the living shit out of us like that.”
“Hey!” Adam grimaced, rubbing his face.
“Step back.” From an obviously armed Agent Holt, turning Frank on and pissing him off at the same time.
“Let’s all take a breath here. You have to admit this is something of a humdinger. You can’t blame us for feeling somewhat flummoxed. Last time we saw your ugly mug the medics were pumping blood in as fast it was flowing out. And then a couple days later we were informed you hadn’t made it. Christ man, how do you think we’re going to feel to suddenly see you again?”
“I know, Chief, I get it. If there had been any other way I would never have allowed them to pull that on you, I swear.”
Raw anger dripped venom from Jared’s tongue, “That’s fucking bullshit man. Do you have any idea how hard it was to watch them take you away, not knowing if we’d ever see you again? I can’t fucking believe you were alive all these years and never said a fucking word.” He was hurt, hell they all were. “Did Nick know?”
“No, no one did, not even my family. I had to totally disappear. Look, I realize you’re angry, but if you’ll let me explain maybe I can shed some light on why.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt the cozy reunion,” Maggie said, aiming a belligerent look Jared’s way. “But I think we should carry this out to our ride. We’re attracting a crowd.”
Sure enough, here came airport security, no doubt alerted to the fact the four of them were standing there creating a sideshow for dismounting passengers. Way to keep on the down low.
“Is there a problem here?” A portly TSA agent asked, hand twitching by his sidearm as he registered the sheer size of Frank.
Flashing her badge, Agent Holt replied, “No, everything is fine. We were just leaving. Thank you, officer.”
He kept his eye on them as Maggie grabbed Adam’s wrist and began to haul ass out the door. Temper rode every stride she took with those mile long legs, her long braided hair, snapping against her back. She’d dressed more conservatively today, a feminine version of Adam’s dark suit and tie, though much more evocative on her lithe form.
“Where to?” She glanced over her shoulder, spearing him with her sooty lashed, cinnamon colored eyes.
Frank nodded towards the Impala resting in the loading zone, a little surprised when she gave him an approving look on his vehicular choice. At least someone got that it was about blending in, hiding in plain sight.
Stowing their overnight bags in the roomy trunk, Adam and Maggie climbed in the back, leaving Jared and Frank the front. As he eased his oversized frame in behind the wheel and turned the ignition with a satisfying rumble, Frank couldn’t help himself, he had to take one last peek at the living, breathing ghost in his backseat. Their eyes met, both a little moist. “I’m glad you’re alive, so fucking glad. Pardon me, Agent Holt,” He apologized yet again for his fabulous fricken vocabulary.
Adam grinned back, “Good to be alive, Chief, more than you know. And don’t worry about Mags, she’s heard plenty worse.” He reached over and gave her thigh a squeeze. Frank turned back to
the front, and pealed out of the parking lot with more zeal than warranted.
“So, do you want to explain where you’ve been for the last five fricken years?” Jared asked, still uncharacteristically acrimonious, slouched in his corner of the car; a pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes. Something was eating at Jare’s insides. It was past time he confided in someone.
One thing at a time though. “Yes, I think you better share with us what happened. And how do you come to be part of the DEA team which happens to be in on the same case that we find ourselves neck deep in?’ Frank stopped at a red light and glance over his shoulder.
“You’re right, it’s not a coincidence. Maggie and I have been working this case for years. We’d catch a break at one end and everything would unravel from the other end. It’s been a real clusterfuck, but Sheridan is the key. I’m sure you guys noticed I spent a fair amount of time keeping an eye on that prick. The DEA had already tagged me. Before I decided to try my luck on the Teams, I’d looked into joining the Drug Enforcement Association. When I happened to be on the SEAL team assigned to safeguarding Sheridan, they asked me to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. He was on their watch-list for connections to some, shall we say, unsavory characters.”
Other than the whistle of wind through Jared’s partially open window and the muted roar of thousands of motorists trying to beat the afternoon rush home, silence reigned. How the hell did someone the Feds already have their eye on manage to get appointed to a hotspot, with a team of SEALs no less, watching his six? Jared was right. It was bullshit.
“Obviously they caught on to what I was doing, hence the attempt to have me killed. If not for you two that night, I probably wouldn’t have made it. Believe me, I’ve wanted nothing more than to catch up and let you know I was alive and to thank you for saving my sorry ass. But the higher-ups decided that I had to stay dead, both for my family’s safety and for the case.”
“So you’re telling us that you getting shot, and presumably killed, then subsequently disappearing for the last five fricken years, were all due to Sheridan? Fuck man, why didn’t you talk to us about it? You know we would have had your back. Maybe then we wouldn’t have had to spend all this time feeling as if we failed you that night.” Jared flung the words at Adam, his eyes shooting daggers into the back seat.
“Jare, it’s all right. The man was following orders, you need to respect that.” Frank knew most of Jared’s anger was self-directed. Hell, they’d both had trouble getting over watching their friend shot down right in front of them. He had to live every day with the responsibility. His commands had placed them behind the town well. He’d never forgiven himself. One of many fucked up decisions that had cost the people he cared for.
Shaking off the darkness of his thoughts, Frank glanced into his rear-view mirror, his attention absorbed by the beauticious Ms. Holt seated directly behind him. Her scent, a bouquet of lilac, vanilla, and old-fashioned roses drifted around him, amping his awareness of her. She sat gazing out the side window, her profile full of mystery, the shadows created by the swiftly passing trees flirting with the dips and planes of her body. She and Adam seemed pretty close, sharing the comfort of long-time partners. But there was more. He’d caught the meditative looks Adam kept sending her way. Just then as if sensing his regard, Maggie brought her gaze to his in the mirror, and awareness flashed to life. Not good, not good at all. He didn’t poach. Especially on newly returned from the dead friends.
“No, I get it, I really do.” Adam’s voice jerked Frank’s attention forward, breaking the connection. “If there were any way I could have done things different, believe me I would have. It’s not exactly been a picnic for me either. I hated having to let my family, my friends, believe I’d died. But in order to stop the person at the head of this organization, the DEA needed me to go undercover. Sheridan was—is, our link to this person.” At the zero response from Jared, Adam’s voice rose, “He’s also a human smuggling, drug pushing, gunrunner who we’ve been doing our Goddamn best to take down. So you can stay annoyed with me for as long as you want, but none of this was my idea. When it first began I figured okay, cool, I’ll play spymaster, catch me a bad guy and then get back to doing what SEALs do best, blow shit up.” He grinned and slapped Jared’s tense shoulder. “Seriously, we all took a vow to defend our country no matter what that entailed. The Only Easy Day Was Yesterday, remember?”
Again the hum of tires as the car ate up the miles and they all acknowledged the motto and their pledge to protect with their lives if needs be.
The smooth, silky contralto of Maggie’s voice broke the silence. “Listen, I think we’re all forgetting the important thing here. Sheridan. I’m sure by now you must have realized the game we’re playing is high stakes—you should like that, Ford.” Jared accepted her little dig with a shrug. “I think it’s in all our best interests to set aside our differences until we catch this creep.”
Frank nodded his agreement. “She’s right, boys. We need to team up and take care of business. We can hash the rest out later. With that in mind, how about a sit-rep on what you have compiled so far?”
Chancing a backward glance, Frank caught Adam waving his hand toward Maggie, giving her the floor. “Okay, here is our bullet list so far, 1) Sheridan somehow pulls strings, and joins SEAL Team 5 right after they are deployed to Iraq.
2) He makes contact with a known group of smugglers hidden under the guise of the Peshmerga militia.
3) He uses his ships, magically clearing all security checks, in the conveyance of drugs, arms and humans to Europe and Africa.
4) Sheridan finds out that O’Connor is a little too curious and shoots him.
5) Back in good old U.S.A Sheridan continues his lucrative career as a lawyer and has the suspiciously good luck to fall into a relationship with none other than Ramos Guerra, right hand man of El Chapo, head of the Sinaloa Cartel.
6) Everything is coming up rosy for our boy. The drug trade is booming, he has a beautiful wife, Sara Wilcox, a daughter, and reaps the rewards of becoming Massachusetts next U.S. Attorney.
7) Rumors abound, is he beating his spouse? He pulls her out for a variety of functions; see perfect couple, no problems. Then a couple of years pass, he’s preparing to run for governor and we hear he has a big reward out for his missing wife and daughter.
8) One day I’m out with vice, chasing leads on a bunch of missing hookers that seem to track back to Sheridan, and I hear word on the street about a multimillion-dollar deal in the pipeline between the Cartel and our man.
9) A week later Ford here, manages to get himself arrested. Adam convinces me, against my better judgment, to make contact. Find out what you know. But I have to say, I figured you to be in on it.”
Jared swung around in his seat, a WTF look on his face. “Relax buddy, I told her she was wrong, there was no way.” Adam reassured him.
“Why would you even think Jare would be involved in this sort of thing? I don’t get it.” Frank asked the question bugging him ever since that day in the interrogation room.
Maggie answered, “We knew Sheridan was dirty, but there had to be someone else helping him. Where was he getting his info? How did he keep avoiding our attempts to nab him? Ford fit the bill. He has a gambling problem and has had for years, yet he always has the cash to play. His family is estranged. And most importantly, he is a genius when it comes to electronics and surveillance. It would have been child-play for him to watch our frequencies, warn Sheridan of any nets.” She sighed and it curled under Frank’s guard like smoke under a closed door. Dangerous, but nearly impossible to resist.
“That brings us to ten. Adam convinced me to break silence and make contact with you two and so now we hopefully, have evidence to lock that asshole away and if it’s as good as you say, maybe we can hook the whole organization.”
Digesting all the new Intel, Frank was embarrassed by how much had gone down right under his nose. His job was to know everything about his men. It’s how you stay
alive out there. He’d failed.
Jared, as usual seemed to sense his turmoil and snapped him a quick punch. “Don’t. Don’t you dare start blaming yourself for shit that had nothing to do with you. I was proud to be under your command. We all were.” He shot a step up glance to the back.
Adam agreed. “He’s right, Senior Chief, don’t blame yourself. Sheridan had us all snowed. We knew he was a jerk, but not how big of a horse’s ass he was, that’s all.”
While Frank appreciated his friends support, it still didn’t change the fact he had seriously slipped in his duties as an officer. He thought of how it had been him who told his brother to cut through the field that day, he would catch up. He thought of the day his father died. How he hadn’t been there for him. Now this, where he had failed his unit by missing something of such importance it had almost gotten two of his men killed.
It all piled up like a big car wreck in his chest. He was tired of it. Tired of always feeling to blame for things he had no control over. His fingers whitened as he strangled the steering wheel. His foot pressing down on the gas shot the car forward with a satisfying rumble. It was time to correct some of those transgressions, and it was going to begin with Sheridan. The man had made himself a deal with the devil. Now he had to pay.
Chapter Twenty
Sara pulled up in front of her house and turned the key off on Mirabelle to hear the chirp of contented little birds, the joyful barks of playful puppies, and the clinking groan of the old car as it settled down as if for a much needed rest. She and Nick sat for a couple of minutes listening to the breeze play a song with the leaves through their lowered windows, neither one anxious to disrupt the peaceful moment.
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