OUTCAST: Trust, Friendship, And Injustice (Beauty 0f Life Book 9)

by Laura Acton

  “You never did,” William stated as he entered and went straight to the bedside. “How are you feeling, Son?”

  “Okay. Though I wish I could shower like the rest of you.” Dan set the cup down, fatigue beginning to roost, but he didn’t want to show his weariness.

  “Could arrange for a nice sponge bath from Hanna?” Blaze joked.

  “Nah, not the same as letting the warm water roll down my back.” His scheme forming, Dan understood enough of what drove his father to be a bit devious … but he justified it as all’s fair in love and war, and this skirmish would secure his release from the damned hospital.

  “Sir, the information you need from me is vital and can save lives. Is that a correct statement?”

  “Yes, but you come first. Analysts are working on it.” William’s sense of duty took a knock, but his son’s well-being would forevermore take priority.

  “If they don’t find what is needed in time, many innocent people will die.” He waited as he detected the slight nod from his father. Underhanded, but Dan sighted his target, took a breath, and squeezed the trigger, “Dad, I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself if I’m the cause of more deaths, especially since I probably possess the knowledge to save them.”

  Dan allowed his grief for Brody to come to the forefront, using it to connect with his dad. “Please, let me do something to redeem myself on this day. The weight I carry for Brody’s death is sometimes crushing. If even one person can be saved by giving you what is required then …” he trailed off, leaving the interpretation of his words open-ended.

  William noted the anguish in Daniel’s eyes. He desperately wanted to help alleviate the guilt his child unjustly carried for Hunter’s death. A battle raged in him. “I won’t risk your life.”

  Comprehending his next move might backfire, but having played chess with his father numerous times, it was a calculated risk he was willing to take. “Then interview me here, and I won’t leave this bed.”

  Turning to Wilson, William said, “We must speak with Daniel alone a moment. Can you wait outside?”

  As Wilson started to rise, Dan exhaled a defeated breath. Damn, my ploy didn’t work. His gaze moved to Blaze as unexpected help came from him.

  Blaze rose and strode to the bed. “Sir, you can’t do that. You know as well as I do what is at risk if this is discussed in a non-secure location. You wouldn’t have reactivated Blondie and made him travel if you could.”

  “We will be doing it here,” William declared in a tone of authority.

  Dan brightened as Blaze and Dad pinned each other with resolute glares. All might not be lost. This might still work. “Which mission is it?”

  Breaking first, William turned to Daniel. “Blockhouse,” he replied flatly.

  Inhaling deep, Dan slammed his eyes closed, and resorted to sniper breathing as the horror of the mission flood through him. Shit! What the fuck did I just do? I can’t talk about that … not today … not ever.

  Dan’s reaction pulled on Wilson’s heartstrings and confirmed to him the deaths of his friends had been horrific. As William and Blaze stood silent and still, he moved forward. His fingers carded through Danny’s hair as he had witnessed Bella and Yvonne do many times to provide comfort. “Breathe, my boy. Just breathe.”

  William bowed his head. He hated to cause his son so much pain. Lifting, he met Blaze’s gaze again. The captain was right … they could not depose Daniel here as much as he wanted. He exhaled. “We will schedule this for when you can go to ops command. With any luck, we will still be in time to protect the innocent.”

  Gathering himself, Dan opened his eyes. He first met Wilson’s concerned gaze. Feelings of failure for not protecting Buzz, Dutch, and Ripsaw resurged. With conviction, borne of a need not to have any more gouges in his tattered soul from deaths he might prevent, Dan said, “There is no way we can discuss that here. We would all violate our oaths. And I for one don’t want to be the reason we end up in Club Ed or the cause of anyone’s death.”

  “Daniel—”

  “No, Dad, listen to me.” Dan locked his eyes on his father’s and changed tactics. “I have always admired your uncompromising sense of honor and duty. I strove to emulate those traits even when I had things screwed up in my head because somewhere down deep, in my heart, I comprehended the truth and wanted to be just like my dad. Why would you ever suggest doing something so far out of character?”

  Daniel’s words hit William at the core. My boy admires me and wants to be like me? He sucked in a breath and blinked as he fought the prickle of tears. Leaning close, William whispered his confession, “You are my son. I love you and would do anything for you, and that plays a part. But the main reason is your mother is more badass than you and me combined, and she would kill me if you moved from this bed without doctor approval.”

  Dumbfounded, Dan gawked at his father trying to wrap his head around the last statement. Dad would break protocol because he is afraid of Mom? He burst out laughing, and his dad started chuckling too.

  Wilson and Blaze stared at the Brodericks wondering what in the hell the general said to cause the kid to bust a gut.

  Calming a bit, Dan said with as much severity as he could muster, “Sir, I think you’re right. When I left, Mom appeared ready to serve your head on a silver platter with an apple shoved in your mouth. I can only imagine what she is planning to do now that I’m in the hospital again.”

  With an expression of sheepishness, William admitted, “She isn’t aware. I’m afraid to call her.”

  Unable to hold back another chuckle, Dan held his sides and let it loose. “Dad, your secret is safe with me. We’ll keep this between us.” His eyes shifted to Wilson. “You can’t tell Bella. She would without a doubt share with my mom. I never realized until recently how much those two were in cahoots.”

  Wilson grinned. “Two ladies who love you more than they can ever express. My lips are sealed.”

  Dan sobered. “Sir, I am like you in many ways … more than just stubborn. It is my duty … I took an oath to safeguard the innocent at risk to myself. Not sure what specifics you need, but I recall the mission, not something I’m likely to forget. Find a way for me to provide the details today.”

  William nodded, and the four men began a calm discussion and came up with a compromise. After a heated moment with the doctor, the man agreed. While Wilson helped Dan dress, Blaze went to acquire a wheelchair, and William headed for the ops center to speak with Sutton and direct Weeks to round up Hicks’ unit. Within thirty minutes, Dan was on his way across the base. His plan to negotiate his way out of the dreaded hospital successful, but would his wounded psyche be able to bear the cost?

  Ops Command Conference Room – 1340 Hours

  Dan sighed, waiting for everyone to congregate in the secure ops room, one he sat in many times in the past. While his dad and Blaze took care of some arrangements, he was left under the watchful eye of Wilson, although Keswick would exit before the briefing session began.

  He shifted in his wheelchair as memories of being confined to one for weeks on end came flooding in. He hated the idea of appearing feeble … and the fact Hicks was in charge of the mission caused even more anxiety. Hicks had been part of Yankee’s unit, and there was no love lost between them, more than ever after Hicks’ performance during the op where Yankee died.

  Pushing away yet another mission where a brother in arms paid the ultimate price, Dan focused on Wilson. “Hey, would you help me into one of the conference chairs? I feel so damned …” he didn’t finish before Wilson was at his side assisting him to transfer.

  Once Danny was seated, Wilson asked, “Better?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Wilson hung the IV bags of saline and antibiotics on the back of the swiveling chair then moved the wheelchair to the far corner. He understood Dan’s insecurities, and one was appearing weak in front of others. When Danny is anxious, he often overcompensates by pushing further than he should. A simple change of seating wi
ll keep the potentially harmful behavior at bay.

  Dan opened the folder again and stared at the official AAR. Like his Parsons report, this one did not match what he wrote while lying in his hospital bed. Though pumped full of painkillers, dealing with the deaths of three brothers, and wondering if Mutt would be the fourth, he retained enough of his rational mind to ensure his after action report provided every last detail.

  Whoever signed this forged form copied my signature well … like the falsified orders which kept me in the field for six straight years. Plouffe screwed with me for years, and I never saw it. Why?

  Dan sighed again. I unfairly blamed everything on Dad, believing he hated me and cast me out of the family. I was so incredibly wrong. Plouffe manipulated me so easily, playing on my convoluted mindset.

  “You doing alright, Danny?” Wilson took a seat next to him.

  “It’s this place … too many memories. So many deaths.” Dan closed the file and turned his hands over, staring at his palms. “Too much blood on my hands. The stains aren’t visible, but they still exist. I can’t wash them away.”

  Wilson laid a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Ghosts haunt us all. The ones we killed, or we watched die remain prominent. But remember, when you walk down a street and spot a mother holding a baby, lovers walking hand in hand, children running and laughing … your deeds kept them safe.”

  Gripping Danny’s hand he squeezed. “Their innocence and light wash away the crimson from your hands and cleanse your soul.”

  Dropping his voice, Dan whispered, “I wish I had saved them. Dutch and Buzz helped me so much, and I didn’t help them. I’m sorry.”

  Wilson pulled Danny’s head to his shoulder when tears sprouted in the soulful sapphire eyes. “I know you, Danny. It’s couldn’t … not didn’t. There is nothing to apologize for … nothing. They loved you as much as you loved them. Neither one would want you to blame yourself.”

  The door opening caused Dan to jerk out of Wilson’s comforting embrace. He swiped at his eyes to remove the trace of tears, and his gaze landed on Hicks. Damn, couldn’t it be anyone else? No, fate hates me.

  “Broderick. I heard you’re back. You’re out of uniform. Special favors starting already?” Hicks moved to stand across from the sniveling wussy. He leaned on the table, palms flat on the surface and flexed his massive biceps as he sneered. “Always knew you were a fairy … your shirt proves it.”

  Dan only glared, not taking the bait. He wore the shirt Loki got him the last time the techie went to the zoo with Bram’s girls. Loki laughed like a maniac as he handed him the red shirt with an image of a white rhino on the front and the words, ‘save the chubby unicorns’ printed around it.

  Perturbed, Broderick remained quiet, Hicks dug deeper as he eyed the man beside Dan. “See you brought your newest lover … he’s a little old for you, I think. Careful you watch your back, Broderick killed his last lover. Blew him away with a .50 cal … two years ago today, if I recall correctly.”

  Dan pushed up out of his chair. “Don’t you dare talk about Brody!” The swift movement caused lightheadedness, and he swayed but was left on his own as Wilson rounded to the other side of the table.

  Pinning the larger and more muscular soldier to the wall with a grip which wouldn’t be broken, Wilson growled, “Shut your mouth, or I’ll happily shove your teeth down your throat.”

  Surprised by how fast the man came at him but unwilling to show it, Hicks arrogantly retorted, “Get your hands off me, old man! You have no idea who I am and what I’m capable of doing. I could snap your neck in a second flat.”

  “Oh, I know your ilk. Dealt with a few asswipes like you in my day. All brawn and no brain. Keep talking, and you will prove my point.” Wilson released the sergeant and stepped back. He glanced at Danny and noted the paleness of his features and him wavering. “Dan, sit down.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Hicks adjusted his shirt and scowled at the smaller and older man who got the upper hand on him with little effort.

  Wilson moved back to Dan, ignoring the self-important SOB in favor of helping Danny sit, and making sure he had not pulled out his IVs. Once satisfied, he stood and answered, “Sergeant Wilson Keswick, retired.”

  Hicks’ mouth gaped. “Keswick? Sergeant Keswick? The Keswick who trained Yankee?” Hicks recalled some of what Yankee shared with them about the legendary Special Forces unit leader and instructor known for his intellect and ability to develop leaders. A man Yankee admired and wanted on his side when the shit hit the fan and one never to mess with if you valued your life.

  Wilson raised a brow. “Yes.”

  Dan turned and peered up at Wilson. The spinning room came to a halt, and his mouth joined Hicks’ in motions like a guppy for a moment before he shut it and chuckled. “After all these years you still surprise me, Wilson. Didn’t realize you were Yankee’s CO, though I should’ve. You two share many of the same qualities.”

  Wilson grinned at Danny. “Now, I can’t be revealing all my secrets.” He wanted to say more, but the general followed by many others entered. Wilson gripped Dan’s elbow to steady him as he rose to come to attention.

  “As you were.” An admonishment was on the tip of William’s tongue for Daniel standing and not obeying the doctor, but he halted realizing ingrained behaviors, ones he drummed into his son’s head, were at the root of him rising when he shouldn’t.

  After helping Dan down again, Wilson turned to William. “Sir, I’ll be leaving now to arrange things for the Master Corporal at our quarters.”

  Dan’s head whipped up. “What?”

  Blaze came up behind Blondie and placed a hand on his shoulder. “The general figured you’d be more comfortable there and Chakram agreed.”

  Not expecting this outcome, Dan flicked his eyes to his father as a slight grin displayed. “Thank you, sir.”

  William gave Daniel a nod, his general’s cloak firmly in place over his dad coat. Danny’s welfare would come first, and his son hated hospitals. This interview would bring up terrible memories which would add to the emotional duress of today … so Daniel would benefit from a private place to decompress once all this was done.

  Turning his focus on Wilson, William said, “Speak with Corporal Dawson if you require any assistance. He will procure any necessities.”

  “Will do.” Wilson strode out of the room and shut the door behind him.

  “Sutton, shall we begin?” William took his seat near the head of the table as he handed over running the meeting to his second-in-command and the others found seats. He noted Blaze strategically placed himself on Daniel’s left and Master Corporal Weeks put herself on Danny’s right. Upon recalling her defense of Daniel when the loathsome Pinchas made disparaging remarks about his scars caused a small uptick at the corners of William’s mouth. Danny has many in his corner … many he may never know about.

  Ghosts of His Past

  53

  May 26

  Ops Command Conference Room – 1400 Hours

  In the face of so many unknown people, Dan schooled his features into a neutral expression as Sutton made basic introductions. Grateful neither Sutton nor his father offered any explanation for his battered condition as the two analysts and members of Hicks’ unit continued to openly stare, Dan attempted to compartmentalize his distress and concentrate on the task-at-hand.

  He shifted in his seat, unsuccessfully trying to find a more comfortable position. These are not as comfy as the TRF briefing room chairs. They don’t swivel or lean back … hard and rigid like everything military. When Sutton handed over the briefing to Mr. Marchant, one of the analysts, Dan focused on the details the man provided.

  Aware of Hick’s opinion of him, Dan endeavored not to draw undue attention to himself during the last hour. Despite his discomfiture and growing fatigue which came with a desperate wish to lay down, he outwardly revealed nothing. Marchant outlined the material obtained from a recent anti-terrorism summit between the U.S., U.K., and Canada. Credible evidence
indicated a new terrorist cell planned attacks on London, Edinburgh, Montreal, Ottawa, Los Angeles, and New York within the next month.

  Marchant continued, “Although the particulars gathered on this new cell are sketchy, all three intelligence agencies believe they share many similarities to the Ashkani network which was wiped out with the Blockhouse mission. We are dealing with ruthless jihadists who appear to be picking up where Ashkani left off a little over four years ago. Copying his MO in almost all ways.”

  Clicking a remote, Marchant brought up a grainy picture for them to view. “This is a photo of the faction’s suspected leader obtained by one of our assets who we believe was stabbed to death shortly after the intel’s transmission.”

  Dan stared at the photograph as his stomach turned. Up until this point, he patiently waited as the man spoke, but Marchant’s assessment was wrong. The image he viewed provided the proof to confirm his theory and correct their misperception. “Excuse me. From everything you laid out, and that,” Dan pointed to the screen, “this is no copycat. It is a reformed cell.”

  Turning a critical eye on the blond, irritated by his interruption, Marchant said, “And how would you know?”

  Try as he might, a little cockiness entered his voice, as Dan retorted, “If you recall Sutton’s introduction … I was there.”

  William stepped in, understanding he needed to tamp down on the haughty analyst, “Master Corporal, please explain why you suspect it to be reorganized.”

  Unsure for the first time, having forgotten to ask before the meeting if the others were aware of the modified AAR, Dan peered at his father as he said, “Sir, key elements appear to be missing from my report.”

  Hicks rolled his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest, and sighed. Though Hicks grumbled under his breath, his rookie Gruber overheard, “Nepotism at its finest. Only the wuss gets away with filing incomplete accounts.”

  Gruber’s brows rose as he studied the younger Broderick. The dude looks like crap, is out of uniform, and cut in on the analyst’s report. Who the hell does he think he is? Oh yeah, right … General Badass’ son. Guess Hicks might be right. Junior appears to receive preferential treatment.