Steel had obtained permission to provide additional security for Francis—it was a condition of the friar’s visit. They had screened people coming in from the south and north—everyone had to have bags searched and pass through a metal detector set up in a break in the fencing that ran from the water up to the cliffs.
Their protection agency, Greensave, was starting out with just a few assignments. He could be choosy and focus primarily on Francis until things settled down. Francis had support from every social and environmental group on the planet, and some heavy hitters were paying for his protection.
The president and CIA Director Hulm were in jail. That threat was over. But Francis would probably always need protection now. Even though the friar had put politics aside, he was being proclaimed the next St. Francis of Assisi, and killing a supposed saint was too tempting a target for all kinds of reasons for all kinds of wackos.
Still it was a good beginning, to protect the man who was trying to protect all people and life on the planet. He also saw it as a way to honor the deaths of Grove, Tom and Janet Bellue, Marita, and those killed on the Komodo and Serpent Ops. Something to give those deaths meaning.
He sent a monthly check to Grove’s wife, anonymously through his lawyer. It was probably of small comfort to her. But he needed to do it for himself—though Grove’s death was a debt that could never be repaid. He still thought of Grove, Janet Bellue, and Marita often, but the nightmares had mostly ended and he often slept in peace.
He carried the rifle and binoculars to the black Jeep parked behind him. He would drive south to meet the boat, get Francis, and take him out the preplanned secure exit route.
Francis sometimes complained, but the friar knew his safety was important. Francis had learned his lesson a year ago when he had been shot. He wasn’t invincible. Since then he always wore a Kevlar vest at events.
Steel started the Jeep, put on his sunglasses, and drove down the road. He was already looking forward to getting home. To Christie.
CHAPTER 93
“How did it go? Tell me.”
Steel smiled. Barely out of his Jeep and Christie was already coming out of the house, asking him about San Diego. “Perfect, as usual. You did a great job setting it up.”
“What did you expect?” She smiled. Wearing shorts and a Greensave baseball cap, she looked ready for a run. Her tanned face shone in the sunlight. She hugged him and met his lips with hers for several seconds. “Welcome home, darling.”
He pulled back. “I’ll always want to come home now.”
“I’ll always be here.” She smiled at him.
“They think Florida will be the biggest live crowd yet. Maybe a half-million.” His arms tightened around her. “It’ll take some time to set that one up.”
“Don’t worry about it. That’s my job.”
“Harry says hello.”
“Hello to brother Harry.” She paused. “I’m happy for Francis. For us.” She smiled again, light shining in her green eyes as she playfully patted his shoulder. “We’re going for a run. Want to come?”
“Sure.” He looked at her, all bright and alive. The warm sun danced on her brown and blond-streaked hair. Sliding his arm around her shoulders, he kissed her cheek. He had let her deeper into his life in one year than he had Carol in ten. She knew about the tunnels, safes, and secret hideaways. No more secrets. Refreshing.
“Where’s our girls?” he asked.
Christie gave a whistle. From around the corner of the house and under the sycamore tree, Spinner and a golden retriever streaked across the grass.
Steel stroked both dogs while they danced around their legs. Flaut’s statement about having a dog had made him look into it. He was glad he could give Lacy a home.
“Where have you been, Lacy and Spinner?” Christie playfully patted the dogs. She looked up. “Think you’ll have trouble keeping up with us?”
“Maybe. I’ve got a bum leg.” He laughed.
She chuckled. “Right.” She stroked his arm. “It’s good to hear you laugh, Jack.”
“It’s good to be able to laugh.” Warmth filled him. Despite all of his mistakes and the losses he had suffered, he could offer love freely to those around him again. And with Christie he had a chance at lasting happiness and peace in a relationship they both cherished.
He scanned the trees along the driveway. The leaves had turned again, already reds, yellows, and oranges splashing some of the branches. A gray fox sat fifty yards away and stared at him. A woodpecker hammered in the distance. And ruby-throated hummingbirds took nectar from feeders hanging from the sycamore.
All that remained for him was Rachel’s memory, which no longer brought him pain. All the suffering had been worth it. The other side was worth seeing. That thought made him smile.
A mole kingsnake wound its way across the driveway.
His phone rang.
“Jack? Jack?” It was Carol and she sounded hysterical.
She had been doing better in the last months, returning to her legal practice and slowly recovering from Kergan’s deceit. They had gone through a quick, amicable divorce. Yet his chest tightened reflexively, protectively, when he heard her concern.
“What’s wrong, Carol?”
Silence, maybe a sob.
He pressed his ear hard against the phone. “Talk to me. I’ll come over right now if you need me. I’ll…”
“Jack!” Carol was shouting.
Uncontrollable sobs filled his ears.
His fingers tightened on the phone. He couldn’t tell if it was fear or something else that motivated her words. “Where are you, Carol? I’m coming right now.”
He walked toward his Jeep, swinging around to look at Christie.
She hurried after him, her brow wrinkled.
“They found her, Jack. They found her. Oh, Jack.” Carol’s voice was out of control.
A deep welling of sorrow and fear and desire all mixed together swept through his torso, constricting his throat. His eyes blurred. His feet locked to the ground. For a wild moment his gaze caught and held the swing under the sycamore tree.
“Where are you, Carol?!” he yelled, just noticing the police car coming down the drive.
“You were right, Jack! You never let her go. Oh, Jack. Our beloved Rachel’s alive, Jack.” Carol was whispering now. “She’s coming home. Rachel’s alive.”
The squad car stopped and Carol tumbled out with a smaller figure with auburn hair and wearing sweats.
Steel ran, at the side of the car in seconds as Rachel rushed into his arms. Numb, he gripped her, his throat tight with happiness and disbelief. All the searching. All the money spent. All the time. He couldn’t believe she was in his arms. Christie was beside him, her eyes filled with tears. Spinner was barking and jumping up and down near Rachel.
Carol wiped tears from her face. “A delusional, grieving woman kidnapped Rachel to replace the loss of her own daughter. The woman had been watching Rach for months before she took her. She pulled up in a RV and asked Rachel for help. Rachel felt sorry for her. For two years she was just a three-hour drive away.” She let go a half-sob, half-chuckle. “But she escaped and the woman’s in a psych ward.”
Rachel looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “I did what you told me, Dad.”
“What was that, honey?” He nearly choked on the words, still not believing he was holding his daughter.
“Stay calm, assess options, look for a solution.” She made a fist and thumped his arm gently. “What you always told me to do in an emergency when we were caving. Don’t you remember?”
“I remember.” He had to wipe his eyes. “I do remember.”
“You saved me, Dad.”
The thousands of self-recriminations he had hurled at himself over the last two years washed away. Tears streamed down his face. He had saved her after all. She had sur
vived because of him. “Oh, Rachel.”
“Rachel.” Carol sobbed softly, kneeling and holding her daughter.
“I’m okay, Mom.”
“I’m so proud of you, honey.” He held onto her, never wanting to let her go again.
“I missed both of you so much.” Rachel gripped him tighter, her cheeks wet, her hair shining in the sunlight.
“I missed you so much it hurt every day, Rach.”
He saw Carol smiling up at him. For one moment he worried about Rachel returning to a broken home, with two years of her life wasted. But he shoved it aside. They were still a family. Rachel would be okay, he would make sure of it, and Carol would be okay too. She had her daughter back. It would help her with other pain.
Christie smiled at him. She understood.
He couldn’t think of anything better than what he had.
Dear Reader, I have a favor to ask.
If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review on Amazon—even 1 sentence! I can only write more books if I have enough readers, and more reviews helps Amazon to take notice and share my book with other readers who have similar tastes. Thank you!
See how the Jack Steel series began!
For email updates on new books, deals, and free review copies of new releases from Geoffrey Saign and for your FREE copy of Steel Trust go to
www.geoffreysaign.net
Keep reading about Jack Steel
in the excerpt that follows...
Jack Steel’s life is turned upside down when he’s blackmailed by a past enemy to murder cartel leadership in order to save his family.
Excerpt from Steel Assassin
CHAPTER 1
Jack Steel stood at the back of the stage, watching for any movement in the crowd. The lighting over the audience was subdued. However his view was unobstructed.
He wore black jeans and a black collared shirt, invisible to anyone in the auditorium because the floor lights in front of him were aimed forward at the speaker—Afia Ameen.
A petite woman with black hair and delicate features, Afia was dressed in western clothing; a long colorful dress and long-sleeved blouse.
Steel admired her. She was courageous to give public talks. A cleric of the Muslim Brotherhood had issued a fatwa calling for her execution after she had begun talking about how Islamic extremists use Sharia law to brutalize Muslim women and limit their rights.
Afia’s own story was one of rape and torture—she had survived acid thrown in her face—and she eventually fled a forced marriage in Iraq. She was a symbol for women oppressed everywhere and had gained a large following.
Since she started speaking publicly there had been several attempts on her life. Tonight her usual security agency had a commitment elsewhere. They had asked Steel months ago to cover today’s event with his own protection agency, Greensave.
Afia had been in hiding for a year but decided to risk coming out for this interview. It had been well-publicized. The Muslim cleric that had issued the fatwa said Afia was going to die tonight if she spoke publicly again.
Steel took the threat seriously. He felt proud that his agency was protecting someone like Afia from violent men. Protecting the innocent had always been a cornerstone of his previous military career.
The interviewer was a local female news anchor. She was asking Afia about her views on Islam, and if she believed Sharia law ever honored women as equals.
Steel half-listened as he scanned the crowd.
They had searched the auditorium earlier. And attendees had been forced to pass through metal detectors as they entered. Yet someone could have hidden a weapon inside beforehand with a plan to charge the stage.
The Macky Auditorium at the University of Colorado in Boulder seated two thousand and every seat was filled. Several hundred people were standing. The Thursday night interview was also being broadcast live to millions.
In the middle of Afia’s response, a young man in the audience stood up and began shouting, “You are a disgrace to Muslim women and a traitor to Islam! You deserve the fatwa made against you!”
The man kept shouting, amid boos from the crowd.
Steel ignored the gangly-looking student. He worried the young man was a decoy to occupy his security people, while the real attack would come from elsewhere.
Two of his security detail rose from their seats in front of the stage and hurried to the man. They dragged him into the aisle and forced him toward the doors. The man kept shouting. More people in the crowd booed the student on his way out.
Steel whispered into his throat mike, “Stay alert, everyone. A few angry people in here. Harry, check the immediate area.”
“Roger that,” said Harry.
“On it,” said Christie.
Christie and her brother, Harry, were outside with the exit vehicle. It was Christie’s first field assignment with Greensave, but Steel was confident of her skill set. And Harry was an ex-Marine and thus capable of handling tough situations.
Steel had personally trained them both to ensure their expertise, using his state-of-the-art military virtual reality program to refine their techniques to the nth degree.
“That was horrible,” said the news anchor. “No one deserves such threats for speaking out. Are you alright, Afia?”
Afia spoke calmly. “I have heard this many times before. It is an example of how radical Islam is converting people to their cause. They wish to spread their version of Sharia law everywhere, as they have done in the UK, Germany, France, Sweden, and Austria. The men threaten violence if anyone criticizes them.
“And their women are not free as they are in U.S. Not free to get jobs on their own. And not free to divorce men as easily as men can divorce them. Women face the ongoing threat of violence for disobedience. Beatings, forced marital sex, and child abuse is common.”
Stepping to his right, Steel thought he saw movement in the far aisle. He moved closer to the lights for a better vantage point.
Just someone leaving.
As the interview continued Steel looked at his watch. And smiled. He did that often. Random smiling. Christie said it was because he loved her and had everything anyone could want. She was right. He loved his life, loved her, and loved his daughter, Rachel.
When Carol had asked him for a divorce, he didn’t think he would ever find someone to love again. But he and Christie had been together for over a year now. She gave his life more meaning, depth, and beauty. They were a better fit than he and Carol had ever been and he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
The last year had erased a year of hell before it, as if it had never existed. Sometimes a few faces from the past still haunted his dreams, but he could live with them for now.
He was also hungry. Christie’s other two brothers, Dale and Clay, had flown in from Montana to eat dinner with them tonight. Friday and Saturday they all planned to do some hiking together.
As small as Boulder was, Steel couldn’t wait to get out of the city and into the mountains. It made him realize how lucky he and Christie were to have his home in Virginia which was surrounded by forest.
On Sunday Christie’s three brothers were leaving. Then he and Christie were taking their first road trip together. Hikes, lounging, sightseeing. He smiled again.
The interview ended and the audience stood, cheering and applauding.
He talked quietly. “Interview is over.”
“Exit area secure,” said Harry.
“The car’s running,” said Christie.
Steel scanned the crowd again. “Be ready. Here she comes.”
Afia crossed the stage toward the side door to the left.
Walking behind the lights, Steel quickly crossed the back of the stage. Afia didn’t want to give anyone the image of her being guarded or scared, and thus didn’t want Steel or his crew visible. He understood.
Afia exite
d the door ahead of him.
Seeing movement, he paused, remaining at the rear of the stage.
A bearded man in his mid-twenties was climbing onto the stage to the right. The man was swift and solid looking. Security tried to grab his leg and he lashed out. The security man went down.
Steel stiffened when he saw something black in the man’s hand. A knife. Maybe a graphite utility knife or hard plastic.
Running across the stage, the man slashed at the news anchor. Crying out, the woman stepped back, her forearm bleeding.
The attacker continued toward the door Afia had exited. The crowd erupted with shouts and yells.
Steel strode past the lights, his Glock 19 up and aimed.
The man didn’t notice Steel until he was reaching for the door knob, and then whirled with his knife up.
Steel shot him in the head and the man collapsed.
Swinging open the door, Steel glimpsed another man climbing the stage closer to him. He couldn’t take a shot with the crowd as a backdrop. “Two attackers in here, one down,” he said.
“Ready here,” said Harry.
Intuiting that the main attack would be outside, Steel ran down the hallway. In seconds he burst through the exit door. The warm mid-September air hit his face as he scanned the immediate area.
Their exit SUV was parked twenty feet to his right, parallel to the sidewalk in the curved lot reserved for performers and speakers. Afia was hurrying down the wheelchair ramp alongside the building. The sun was going down. Shadows filled the area past the SUV.
Harry stood beside the open SUV rear door, Glock in hand. Wearing jeans, boots, and a western shirt, he was built like a forty-year-old linebacker. Six-three, broad-shouldered, and lean.
Steel stopped on the stoop. Footsteps. He whirled.
The second man. Running down the hallway toward him. Black knife again. No gun. Steel raised the Glock but glanced once more at Afia and Harry.
Steel Force Page 30
