Once, and For All

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by Kendra G. Johnson




  ONCE, AND FOR ALL

  ONCE, AND FOR ALL

  Kay G. Jay

  © 2019 Kay G. Jay

  Once, and for All

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Elm Hill, an imprint of Thomas Nelson. Elm Hill and Thomas Nelson are registered trademarks of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.

  Elm Hill titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].

  Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019932558

  ISBN 978-1-400325139 (Paperback)

  ISBN 978-1-400325146 (eBook)

  Information about External Hyperlinks in this ebook

  Please note that footnotes in this ebook may contain hyperlinks to external websites as part of bibliographic citations. These hyperlinks have not been activated by the publisher, who cannot verify the accuracy of these links beyond the date of publication.

  This book is dedicated to my fellow Habitat for Humanity actors who give of their time for the annual fundraising play.

  All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players...

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  CHAPTER ONE

  The lightning cracked outside her window, jolting her awake. The room glowed white hot for a brief second, long enough for her to see the shadow standing in the center of the room. She was not alone. She could smell her own fear and cursed herself for giving that away. She sat up in bed, pulling her knees to her chest in a pitiful attempt at protection.

  “What do you want?” she demanded.

  “You,” the shadow replied.

  She did not know if she heard the word or if it was inside her head. She shook her head slowly.

  “You were given to me long ago.”

  “What?” It came out in a breathless whisper.

  “Your mother.” The words were a growl.

  Her mind could not process this. Any of this. She would not give in to fear. Fear is not of God. Fear is not of God.

  It rushed at her, stopping an inch from her face. She was paralyzed as she felt hot breath on her skin. She could not move.

  She felt Danny Mac’s powerful presence beside her. Her warrior. In her mind, she claimed that power and the protective power of God. Suddenly the air was sucked from the room.

  “Kenann, are you all right?” Danny Mac pulled her into his arms.

  She reveled in the hard contours of his chest as he pulled her to him. His strong, powerful arms came around her. She felt the wide expanse of his shoulders envelope her smaller frame. He would keep her safe. Bad dreams or not. He was her mighty warrior of God.

  “Go back to sleep, baby. Everything is all right.” He hated her nightmares. He looked over her head. He never knew lightning to smell like burning sulfur.

  * * * *

  “You want us to do what? Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”

  If there was one thing John Matthew Carter, section chief for the CIA, hated, it was being laughed at. At 5’10”, he knew he could still take anyone in this room. Call it Napoleon syndrome, if you will, but he always made sure he was the smartest, strongest person in the crowd. Or at least he made sure he would be the last man standing.

  Judy spat out, “I’m not joining the circus for anyone!”

  “It’s not the circus, dear,” Granny mollified.

  “Whatever. I’m not doing it.”

  Carter glared at her.

  Everyone was consumed with their own thoughts. Several of them were pacing about in agitated conversation in the large parlor at Mrs. Gage’s stately mansion in Memphis. This group was the self-proclaimed Merry Band of Misfits who had bonded over the last year during two exciting adventures.

  Mrs. Gabrielle Gage, the International Woman of Mystery, dubbed so by her friends, had been born in Communist Hungary to a professor father and a homemaker mother. When the Communists stripped him of his status for being an intellectual, they left Budapest and returned to the village of her mother in order to survive. Her father stayed bewildered and lost for several months. He had simply been teaching the classics to his students when the AVO (the Hungarian equivalent of the KGB) came into his classroom and took him away. He had spent several nights in jail, from which he never fully recovered. But at least he did not give up. Her mother had taken great pride in her status in Budapest and had bragged to her family incessantly, so when she came crawling back in shame, she could not take it. She drifted further and further into despondency until one day she simply walked into the river and drowned. Gabrielle had been oblivious to the problems at first. She was thrilled to be in the village, playing with her friends and running over the hillsides. But while swimming one day, she saw her mother coming. She giggled to see her enter the water still wearing her cotton dress. She was so excited that her mother was finally going to play with them and called to her in glee. She stopped and watched in confusion as her mother did not speak but looked straight ahead, walking into the water until it was over her head. She never resurfaced.

  Gabrielle Hrvatin (as she was known then) grew up that day. The harsh realities of life were suddenly upon her. In stubbornness, she decided to take on the world. Looking back, she knew it was all from anger. Anger that her mother could do such a thing—leave them, leave her, without a backward glance. Anger that her father took it all so passively. Anger that the Communists were so ignorant of culture and cruel in their need to control thoughts and lives. It was not long before she left the village with a young idealistic boy and returned to Budapest to fight in the resistance movement. It was there she fell in love and there she lost her love on the bloody streets after a hail of bullets cut him down. She cared little for life at that point. She eventually married a high-stakes, wealthy Mr. Gage who claimed her in order to feel the power of subjugating such a strong and beautiful creature. He was a sadist. She suffered almost five years with him, all the while trying to make him love her. He died on the golf course, leaving her a very, very wealthy widow. The rest of her story remained clouded in myste
ry, but one thing was certain: she had connections all over the world and resources that boggled the mind of anyone who had ever seen her in action.

  None of this mattered to Jacob Taylor, the retired Marine commander and elder of the church down the street. He had grown to love Gabrielle for her sweet heart and her passion for helping others. She was a little bitty thing who flitted around on impossibly high heels, wafting her signature exotic scent in her wake. He thought she was a cross between Dolly Parton, Eva Gabor, and a pit bull. He loved her. Jake was a commanding presence in his own right. His height and breadth served him well in keeping his Marines in line. But now he used this strength to comfort and teach souls about the Lord. He loved being an elder, although he had been woefully neglecting his flock in the last few months as he traveled around the world, fighting the world’s enemies.

  Two of the Marines who had been under his command were in this room. Daniel Joseph MacKenzie, also known as Danny Mac, had moved from growing up in an Oklahoma orphanage to Marine combat. He transitioned to the CIA but was now a preacher in the Lord’s church. It was a strange twist of fate for the handsome, hardened killer he had been. But it worked. He had turned to Jake for guidance when the emptiness in his life had begun to crush him. Jake introduced him to Jesus, who had saved him, healed him, and brought him unspeakable joy. Part of that joy was now his wife Kenann, who stubbornly resisted his declaration of love until he forced her hand before their last adventure and she finally agreed to marry him. She completed him, and he planned to protect her with his life.

  Andrew O’Hanlon was the other former Marine and Danny Mac’s best friend. He was a tall, lanky dreamer with the gift of gab. He was good at what he did for the CIA, but he was a romantic at heart. And as his newly wed wife had discovered, he was also to the manor born. Even Danny Mac had not known that. But since he had married Kenann’s best friend, Judy Crawford, he had no choice but to introduce her to the Dragon Lady, his mother. Judy had held her own but Andy took a chewing later for not truly preparing her. He simply stated, “How could anyone prepare for that?” She conceded the point and forgave him with a smile on her beautiful face.

  Judy had been called the ice princess in college after her traumatic sexual assault right before her freshman year had left her empty and completely shut down to men. But Kenann had sensed her wounded soul and been drawn to her like a moth to the flame. They had been inseparable since that first day of college. Ever since the movie Frozen had come out, Kenann teased her about being Elsa. The physical resemblance was striking, even down to the ice thing, Kenann reminded her. Judy had stuck her tongue out and called Kenann, Anna. Judy was a registered nurse and Kenann had finished her Masters in Social Work. And now, because of the wild and crazy (and frightening) exploits of the last several months, they had both met and married the men of their dreams. What a ride.

  Kenann (pronounced Kee’ nan after her parents Ken and Ann) had grown up all over the world with her father, a notable photographer for National Geographic, and her mother, a graphic artist. They made sure Kenann had the best tutors and was well cared for as they wandered the globe, but they had little time for the precocious little girl they had had “by accident.” Kenann’s sense of home had come from her father’s Irish mother, Granny James. She had come from her native Ireland to settle in river bottom land in West Virginia. That was home to Kenann. It was warm and welcoming and she felt like she belonged. If it had not been for Adam, her father’s pilot and bodyguard on dangerous locales, she would not have experienced a father’s love. He taught her how to shoot and defend herself in hand-to-hand combat. He told her tales from everyplace they went and he made them come alive in a way no tourist could ever experience. He answered questions about life. She truly loved him. So when the three of them were lost in a plane crash in the jungles of Borneo, to her shame, she only truly grieved for Adam.

  Her Granny was fey. She had second sight, so Kenann learned not to question the little woman with peach-colored hair when she got that knowing look in her eyes. She was a force to be reckoned with. But a more giving, more loving woman never lived. Granny had grown lonely in West Virginia after the excitement of working with her newly adopted family, so she was more than ready to accept Mrs. Gage when she suggested she turn her farm over to the neighbor to act as caregiver and move in with her here in Memphis. Lord knew Mrs. Gage had plenty of room in her behemoth of a house.

  There were now others who had been added to their family. Blade, the eleven-year-old biracial child, had proven invaluable in their missions. His black father had died a few years earlier and Danny Mac had begun to mentor him. His Filipino mother had been oblivious of his exploits until very recently. She had been remarkably accepting of the situation, thought their new friend CJ Baer. CJ was a truck driver who had been enlisted by Mrs. Gage as one of many in her network of resources. He came to her mansion in Memphis with information and decided to stick around. He knew he was falling for the kid and, just maybe, was a little sweet on the mother, too.

  The final member of the Merry Band of Misfits was Angelo. He had been an archenemy of Danny Mac but had been changed forever by watching Danny Mac and Kenann fall in love and share their trust in Jesus even in the midst of being kidnapped and finding themselves in mortal danger. When Danny Mac took a bullet meant for Angelo, he was devastated. That someone who had been his enemy had been willing to die for him was incomprehensible. Danny Mac said it was all because someone had died for him once, a long time ago. He still did not understand but was willing to devote his life to these newfound friends while he figured it out.

  They were all talking at once, milling about the room, engaging in different conversations as they mixed and mingled comfortably together.

  Carter, the CIA section chief who had presented them with a proposition, gave up and went over to Angelo who, as usual, was sitting off to the side. “What do you think, son?”

  Angelo started. This man had hunted him for years as an international criminal. Now he called him son? He would never get used to this new life. “I think you need to give them time. They will work this out in their own way.”

  “But I am asking you. What do you think?” Carter pinned him with a piercing, ice-blue gaze from a strong, chiseled face.

  Angelo took his time before he answered. His voice carried the accent of his Bulgarian roots. “I think I have never seen a military unit function as well as these people or be more effective. You are wise to ask them to join you.” He was remembering them in action in that castle in Transylvania a few weeks earlier.

  “But what about the plan—the acting troupe?”

  “That is going to take a little while to swallow.”

  “Yeah, I am gathering that.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Mrs. Gage laid her hand on Carter’s shoulder. “A word, John?”

  He turned and looked up from his seat beside Angelo. “Sure.” He stood and followed her out the terrace doors to the side patio. “Am I being taken to the principal’s office?”

  “Of course not, dear. I actually applaud your plan.”

  “What?” He was stunned.

  “It is ingenious. It allows several different people to travel together without questions as to their agenda. Venues can be selected that get you into places that would not otherwise be open to you to gather information for your government. I think it just might work.”

  “I am hearing a ‘but.’”

  She smiled. “But…I think we need time. Some of our people are fragile. Tired, if you will.”

  “You?”

  She laughed. “Never!” Her laughter always stirred him.

  Putting those thoughts aside, he said, “You are probably right. I guess I sprung this on everyone out of the blue.”

  “Now I am hearing a ‘but.’”

  He looked at her and looked away as if considering. Mrs. Gage was a woman who could keep confidences. He turned back to her. “It was humiliating to get all the accolades and backslapping for bringing down
that cabal several weeks ago. I tried to explain. They wouldn’t listen to me. They gave me all the credit for leading the team. But you and I both know I was not the leader. You were.”

  “John, it took considerable effort on all our parts. I have deeply regretted those words I flung at you in pique.” She had told Carter during the last operation that he could not lead his way out of a wet paper bag.

  He smiled. “It had merit, Gabrielle. Granted, this group is not my usual bunch of jarheads, but I know enough to know in order to lead, you have to command respect.”

  “Command?”

  “Garner? Earn? Whatever, but I do not have it with this group.”

  Mrs. Gage cocked her head in genuine interest. “Then why bring us back together to propose another mission?”

  Carter sighed. “That’s just it. I have watched how you interact with this bunch. These people are all formidable in their own right, but together they are amazing. I’m not sure they have any idea how much.”

  “They don’t,” she responded quietly.

  “And I want to be a part of it. The energy, the camaraderie, the feel of family.”

  “John, you missed us.” Her voice was soft and teasing.

  “And if you ever repeat that, I shall cut out your tongue.”

  “I believe you would.”

  He smiled back at her. He sat down at the patio table and gestured for her to sit as well.

  “What do you have in mind, John?”

  “Well, since I am now the golden boy at the agency, I was given carte blanche to put together my team. And then I realized I didn’t want to work with anyone else.” He paused, looking at her. “And again, not one word,” he added, pointing his finger.

  His solemn look almost made her laugh. Mrs. Gage crossed her heart.

  “So I told the committee I was going to put the team together and would report back in a week.”

  “Doesn’t give us much time.”

  “Us?”

  “See, that’s your problem, John. You are always trying to go it alone. Now, let’s go back in there and sell this thing.”

 

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