by Laura Acton
“About that—” Ray started.
“No breaking your word. Neither is to be made aware you and Bram know. I don’t doubt your intentions, but I believe it will cause more problems.”
Ray shook his head. “I disagree. Lexa needs a safety net. She can’t talk to you about the relationship, and she only has the team … and perhaps her friend Amy, but if this is work-related, she won’t unburden herself to Amy. We are her only family, and I refuse to let her flounder.”
Inhaling sharply, Nick considered Ray’s words, but he couldn’t respond as the others began filing into the room. After everyone took their seats, Nick studied Lexa a moment. Ray is right. The daughter of my heart will hesitate to discuss her feelings concerning Dan with me. Another thought popped into his mind, one he had not considered as they learned more about each of the subjects from the Whitehall incident. If I’m right on what might be bothering her, she won’t discuss it with Ray … it is too personal.
Nick launched into the day’s briefing, which, unfortunately, contained updates on another strike by the Barton brothers. Concluding, he said, “The latest sighting of the brothers comes from a ranger in Jasper National Park in Alberta after they hit the bank in Edmonton. He lost them when they shot out the tires of a semi, causing the truck to jack-knife.”
Jon pinched the bridge of his nose as the death toll associated with the murderous brothers climbed higher. “How the hell are they so damned lucky all the time? They manage to slip away every friggin time.”
“They don’t possess a moral compass or inhibitions. They’re ruthless and are willing to kill anyone standing in their way. Their luck will run out sooner or later.” Bram recognized how difficult it was for Jon to accept the Bartons slipped through their fingers years ago, but fortunately, his best friend, unlike Constable Wright and quite possibly other officers who failed to capture them throughout the country, didn’t allow the guilt to eat him alive.
Loki’s knee bounced. “I would love to apprehend them. They need to be locked away for the rest of their lives.”
“I’d be happy if a grizzly bear ate them in the park,” Ray quipped to help reduce everyone’s stress, but mostly Loki’s.
“Bears wouldn’t eat them. They’re rotten to the core.” A chuckle came from Loki as his knee slowed. He took a deep breath. Most of his anxiety was due to the zombie sitting at their table—the circles under Dan’s eyes as prominent as ever. His friend was not sleeping and lived on caffeine more so than ever before.
Loki glanced over in time to catch Dan’s covert slip of a pill into his palm and his fake, short cough to cover as he downed the white tablet. None of them would allow him to crash and burn, and he was glad Boss and Jon wrangled him into going to their meeting tonight.
As he assessed his team, Nick decided to mix up pairings for their shorter day. He arranged with Gambrill for Alpha to be off by four, and all calls, if possible, would go to Delta once they were on shift in the afternoon. With any luck, today would be a slow day like the week so far, since Dan continued his slow downward spiral.
Although tempted to put Dan on leave, he, Jon, and Bram had several discussions where Jon advocated keeping Dan closer to the vest, so he didn’t tip over the edge. His tactical lead reminded them that although Dan was working in sub-optimal condition, the ex-Special Forces soldier likely operated in a war-torn arena in worse shape. Though not entirely comfortable, Nick capitulated and reluctantly agreed.
To protect Dan, Jon insisted he partner with Broderick each day and used their time together to coax, coerce, and eventually strong-arm Dan into agreeing to come with them tonight. As a result, Nick concluded Dan might benefit from being with Bram today, giving him a break from Jon’s intense yet well-meaning scrutiny. And he would honor Ray’s request too, because although Lexa appeared to be her usual self on the outside, she was not, and Ray might be able to help.
“Calling today a patrol day again. Lexa with Ray. Bram and Dan. Loki with Jon.” Nick tapped the folders on the tabletop. “I’ll be here with paperwork. Choose your areas, then off you go. Stay sharp and keep the peace.”
Patrolling – 9:20 a.m.
Ray muted his headset and returned his hand to the steering wheel. He possessed more evidence something bothered Lexa because she always preferred to drive, but today when he offered to take the wheel, she didn’t rebuff him. Instead, she remained quiet for the past hour and gazed out the window. He reached over and muted her comms too.
“Hey!” Lexa reacted to Ray’s action.
“Wanted to talk with you privately.”
“Could’ve asked me to mute.” Lexa eyed Ray. “What about? Everything okay with you?”
“Yes, but I’m not so sure you’re doing so well. Talk to me. Whatever you say will remain between us … like always.” Ray glanced at Lexa, noting her body language remained closed off.
“I’m good.”
“Like hell, you are! You forget we’ve been friends for five years. Something is bugging you, and I’m not going to let it fester.” Playing dirty, Ray added, “Perhaps if any of the suicide six at Whitehall Financial sought help from a friend, none of them would be dead.”
“Low blow.”
“Yeah, but true. Spit it out. No judgments only a sounding board to release whatever is bugging you.” Ray flicked his eyes to her again and noted a softening. He remained quiet, patiently waiting.
Lexa blew out a long breath. “If I tell you, you must keep it to yourself.”
“Promise.”
Her hand unconsciously moved to her abdomen. “Been thinking a lot about Evangeline Mitchell and what drove her to the point of choosing death. Yes, she lost a child, and as horrible as that must’ve been, she still had a loving and supportive husband, who is now devastated, and nothing would’ve prevented her from having another baby.
“Why did she become so lost and believe her only alternative to be death? She had everything some women never will. A man she loved and the ability to bear children. Many women would love to have even one of those.”
Keeping his word to Boss, Ray asked, “Are you one of those women?”
Lexa’s head whipped to Ray. “What?”
“Logical question. If that is what you are pondering on, it must mean something to you. Relationships in our line of work are hard to maintain. Jon and Bram are lucky, and I guess I am too.” Ray glanced towards Lexa. “And don’t punch me, but you’re in your thirties and if you want kids, well—”
Lexa jabbed him in the bicep. “My reproductive organs are not up for discussion!”
“Ow!” Ray rubbed his arm after coming to a stop at an intersection but persisted. “Touched a sore spot. Sorry. Just thought talking might help.”
“Yeah, well …” Lexa exhaled heavily and met Ray’s eyes. “Even if I was as lucky as you and married the person I loved, kids might not be in the cards for me. You can’t tell any of the guys, but when Pablo Nores shot me, the bullet destroyed one of my ovaries and left me with scar tissue on my uterus, which might prevent me from having a baby … if I wanted one.”
This took a turn Ray had not anticipated. Lexa would be a natural mother. She was fantastic with Bram’s girls and Jon’s boys. His heart broke for her, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say other than, “Oh, man, I’m sorry.”
“Well, thanks, but I doubt I would have kids. Just the thought they are off the table … well, it is niggling at me.”
An awkward silence prevailed as neither Lexa nor Ray could figure out how to close the conversation. They were saved as Tia called over their headsets, “Alpha Team, critical call, possible child abduction.”
Dan’s Apartment – 5:30 p.m.
With about ten minutes to spare before he must leave to meet Jon and Boss, Dan sat in his black swivel chair to rest. Upon returning home today, he decided to rectify the disgusting state of his apartment and ended up taking out four bags of trash. His quarters now ready for inspection, he found the well-ordered and clean area brought him a mo
dicum of relief from the constant stress he felt since the Whitehall call.
The past twelve days had been hell. No matter what he did, he couldn’t escape the nightmares. Understanding he needed rest to be on point for work, on the twenty-ninth, he purchased a sleeping aid that previously worked for him with no side-effects. However, this time, his self-medicating came with unexpected and dangerous results.
Waking the next morning lying next to Brody’s grave and discovering his truck in the parking lot, yet possessing no recollection of traveling there, unsettled him. He called Jim right away, and his brother nixed the meds from his safe drugs list because apparently, he experienced a parasomnia episode of sleepwalking and sleep-driving.
So, caffeine became his only method to compensate for the lack of sleep. He tried deflection by putting on a smile while on shift but didn’t fool the team one whit. Everyone except Lexa hovered, while Jon kept him on a short leash as he badgered him to attend a support group. Hardy’s persistence, coupled with increasing sleep deprivation, wore Dan down, and he finally acquiesced.
He recognized his tried and true methods of coping, including music, were not working, and he couldn’t figure out why. Do I see myself reflected in the suicidal six? If Brody, Blaze, and Jon had not intervened, would my outcome have been the same? Endeavoring to placate the inner turmoil denying him respite, Dan contemplated the overwhelming desperation so torturing six souls that they could no longer see the beauty in life.
Of the group, Dan believed only Mr. Virk had no other option. Dying an agonizing death as loved ones watched your decline, yeah, he agreed with medically-assisted euthanasia. That insurance clause should be illegal. Preventing anyone the right to die with dignity and provide for their family is wrong.
And Dan grasped the pain of the mother whose infant died of SIDS. His mom survived the loss of a child, granted she still had him, Becca, Dad, and a slew of family to lean on. Perhaps Mrs. Mitchell lacked a robust support system.
The firefighter’s choice made some sense to him. Downing spent his life protecting others and believed this to be the only way to safeguard his family financially when the pressures became too much to bear. Thoughts of PTSD came to mind, as well as Baboon’s suicide. Buddy, wish I had been there when you reached the end of your rope. I would’ve caught you … you would still be alive.
As he began pondering the needless death of Beau Reese, the nineteen-year-old who caused the deaths of his older brother and three friends, Brody’s death, at his hands, came to the forefront of his mind and stole his oxygen. Killing a brother came with an agony that never went away, and he would never wish on another soul.
Sucking in a ragged breath, Dan understood that although Plouffe might’ve put the event into motion, and Blaze relayed the all-clear, the fact remained he pulled the trigger and blew his brother away. Self-recrimination escaped from his lockbox and flooded him, but the surge was dispelled as a strange and unconnected thought popped in.
Private Theo Brock, the man who instilled a love of running in him and made life bearable at the Yukon base when he was a child, had been responsible in part for his little brother’s paralysis. Brock hit Davie as his younger brother ran into the road. Brock’s family supported him with love, thus preventing one tragedy from becoming two. If only we’d been aware of the circumstances, I might’ve connected with Reese by talking about Brody, Brock, or even Baboon.
Constable Wright’s demise also hit Dan hard. Like Wright, he also carried a sense of guilt for what the Bartons wrought in the last two years. Fate always screwed with him. Though he didn’t know Jon, Bram, Ray, or Loki at the time, Dan wished he risked being shot by them when they ordered him to lower his weapon. I should’ve taken the risk. If I neutralized the heinous brothers before they started a reign of terror, Wright would be among the living.
Shifting to the final one of the six, Dan’s heart seized thinking about the ex-soldier who lost his limbs. Dan possessed first-hand knowledge of the damage an IED could do to the human body. Robbie’s demise is on me. I should’ve been on point the night he stepped on the landmine. And Mason, I almost lost my brother when our Humvee ran over the IED. Even if it killed me the next time, I would take another beating before allowing him to pull out the shrapnel.
Death is all too familiar and never easy. I’ve witnessed brothers shot to hell and bleed out with no way to stop the flow, blown up by landmines, hacked to pieces in a cornfield, beheaded with swords and a grenade, drowned, and burned alive.
Dan recalled Dr. Tansy’s explanation last autumn when she helped him. He didn’t suffer from PTSD but struggled with survivor’s guilt. A term she used to describe the unrelenting anguish, remorse, shame, and responsibility he held after Sara and each brother died, believing if he had been better, faster, stronger, smarter, braver, or more aware he could’ve changed the outcome.
He continued to question why his brothers died, and he lived since he had been Plouffe’s target. Learning about the major’s actions increased his sense of culpability. They became collateral damage in Plouffe’s machinations. After conversations with Blaze and his father, Dan realized many of those missions might’ve been scrubbed, or the intel vetted more stringently.
Although he revisited all his brother’s deaths, the one which featured most prominently in his nightmares was sparked by the fiery deaths of the hostages. He was in a real quandary and tempted to contact Dawn for a session, but he feared by going to a shrink, he might be put on leave again and more time to himself to ruminate on everything was not what he needed.
The last image of Shy burned into his psyche pushed into his consciousness. Trying to shove the memory back into his lockbox, he found the lid wouldn’t stay shut. He and Shy survived the cornfield … just the two of them left, and everyone else slaughtered … hacked to pieces one-by-one over several days. As horrible as that mission was, Shy’s ultimate demise was worse.
Solidly in F.I.N.E. territory, Dan covered his ears, hoping to silence Shy’s screams, but they were inside his head. Forcefully, Dan pushed out of his chair, a growl emitting from his constricted throat as Sergeant André Timide’s shrieks mixed with those of the three hostages and two fireballs merged.
“All I want to do is save people, and all people seem to want me to do is kill them. Suicide by Dan!”
After his outburst, Dan drew in a sharp breath and blew it out gradually, striving for calm. When his phone rang, Dan grabbed it from the table and noted the caller to be his tactical lead. He growled again in frustration.
His ability to trust, especially Boss and Jon, took a hit recently, so going with them and opening up to them and strangers set off all kinds of anxiety. Though he gave his word, Dan seriously considered backing out of going tonight because he always coped on his own, processing his thoughts and sealing them away in his safe place.
Brody whispered, “Danny, you need to go. You can talk about this with people who understand the emotions you’re dealing with. You’re not alone and never have been. Your support structure is only a bit wonky at the moment. Trust Jon. Trust Nick. This group can help, brother.”
Gaining control over his desire to ignore Jon’s call and flee, Dan pressed accept. “Hey, Jon.”
“Dano, Nick’s on his way to pick me up. We’re carpooling, and I thought you might like to ride with us. Your place is on our way, and it would be no problem to swing by.”
Turning and rubbing his ear, the incessant buzzing the last few weeks bugging him again, Dan’s gaze landed on the picture of him and Brody. At that moment, Dan recognized why he struggled.
I never coped alone. Many people braced my net. Brody, Blaze, Winds, Mason, Jim, Ripsaw, Wilson, Scott, Bram, and Lexa. But my support ropes are frayed and missing. Brody and Ripsaw aren’t here to hold me up. Blaze, Mason, and Winds are unreachable, most likely deployed. Jim does medical, but my screwed-up head is out of his area of expertise.
Wilson and Bella are in Europe, so calling him is out … besides, I don’t want to worry them
again. I also don’t want to burden Scott with this because he’s got newborn twins to focus on. I shut Bram out, so I didn’t inadvertently reveal things I shouldn’t about Lexa and me. And there is no way I can seek Lexa’s help either. This time, I’m flying solo without a net to land in.
The elongated silence worried Jon, but he remained quiet on the line using part of Blaze’s sage advice … wait and listen. He essentially bullied Dan into coming tonight but believed this might be the only way to catch his troubled teammate and friend. He would do whatever necessary to prevent Dan from crashing to the ground and potentially reaching for his ivory-handled pistol.
Dan yawned and realized he had been uncommunicative for an extended time as he processed his ah-ha moment. He cleared his throat. “Thanks, but I don’t need a lift. Plan to ride my bicycle. The autumn night breeze will be pleasant.” And will help wake my ass up.
“See you in about an hour. Remember, there’ll be pizza and drinks. All you need to do is show up.” Jon breathed a sigh of relief.
“Okay. I’ll be there as promised.” Dan disconnected, yawned again, grabbed his bike lock key from the hook, and spoke to the air as he exited his apartment, “What the hell did I just get myself into?”
“A safety net, Danny.” Brody grinned as he hovered and followed his brother.
Not a Bad Idea
8
October 5
Jon’s Home – 6:10 p.m.
Kent swung the front door open and grinned. “Hi, Uncle Nick. Dad will be down in a few minutes. He’s helping Joey find his stuffed dog. My brother can’t sleep without it.”
Nick stepped inside and noted Joey’s racecar backpack on the floor near the base of the stairs. He recalled Jon telling him Joey would be spending the weekend with Jackson. It made him happy that Jon and Jack resolved their differences. Jack’s efforts earlier this year went a long way in helping Loki, something they all appreciated. “You got any plans tonight?”
“Yeppers. Movies with my buddies and staying the night at Roger’s and Sean’s house.” Kent turned when his mom entered.
