by Kat Smith
She silently cursed when she remembered that hadn’t set it on vibrate. She tossed the covers back and grabbed the phone. No need to wake everyone up, she thought as she answered in a whisper, “Cardina.” Her toe smashed into the dresser as she hurried across the dark bedroom, and she growled out in a whisper, “Goddamn it.”
“Excuse me?” Vincent was on the other end.
“Fuck. Hold on a sec.” She limped out of the bedroom, closed the door, and descended the curved staircase to the first floor. When she reached the kitchen, she turned on the lights and squinted as she walked to the stove. “Sorry. What’s up, Vincent?” Payton filled the kettle with water, placed it on the stove, then sat on a barstool to examine her toe.
“Director, I apologize for waking you, but we’ve just received a response to the email you sent out earlier this evening.”
“What?” She listened as he repeated his previous statement. “She replied? Oh, sweet Jesus.” She turned off the stove. “Is she okay? Where is she? Where’s Christopher Bryzgalova?” She was spitting out questions with machine gun speed but not waiting for him to answer. She turned back to the stairs, climbing them two at a time. “Never mind. I’m on my way.”
“Do you want me to call Alex in, as well?”
“No, don’t call Alex yet.” She rushed into the bedroom to see Mara already dressing.
Payton grabbed a pair of jeans and a UMD sweatshirt out of the closet. “I want to review the information first. Bring it all to the conference room. I’ll be there in forty…no thirty minutes.”
When she disconnected the call, Mara was tugging on her boots. “I only heard part of the conversation but enough to know Devan replied.” She didn’t leave room for debate. “I’m going with.”
Payton pulled a pair of jeans over her hips. “You need to get some sleep. You’re exhausted.” She tugged the sweatshirt over her head. “I’ll call you when I get there and see what’s happening.”
Mara turned to Payton. “Devan’s mine. I’m going.” She stepped to Payton and stopped her. “You’ve been tossing and turning all night.”
“I know. Now that we’ve started this process, I’m questioning everything. Every word, every nuance. We can’t mess this up again.”
“Go brush your hair.” Mara dropped an easy kiss on Payton’s lips. “Looks like a family of rats has moved in.” She dodged a swipe. “See you downstairs. I’ll make us a coffee to go.”
Payton and Mara entered the conference room twenty-eight minutes later. Payton walked to the front of the room where Vincent and the team were already gathered. “Go.”
Vincent punched the keyboard, and the email popped up on the wall monitor. “This came in at 0230 hours. As you can see, she answered your questions and added some information. She’s maintaining the coded references.”
Mara walked closer to the monitor. Closer to Devan. They read the displayed email.
Location: SAME
Health Condition: STABLE - NLTI
Environmental Status: CONTROLLED
Safety Status: DIMINISHING CONCERN
No further adverse conditions are anticipated.
Will require transport x 2.
Additional information on mission plan forthcoming.
Vincent gave them a minute to absorb the email. “What does NLTI mean?”
“Nonlife-threatening injuries,” Mara said without turning around. She felt elated but cautious, felt as if Devan were in the next room. However, she was on the other side of the globe, and now she had to figure out how to get her.
“She states ‘transport times two.’ Who do you think is the other person that will need transport?”
Payton studied the email for every nuance looking for another underlying message…or warning. “At this point, we can only guess it’s Christopher Bryzgalova, the leader of the rebel group. She’s using his computer, so they’ve had to have had some sort of contact.”
Mara turned. “I need to get to my office…to call Colonel Bowman in Vaziani…get a plan in place.”
Payton turned. “You can use the secure comms here to call Vaziani. It will save time, keep us all in one place to organize the plan.” Payton turned and began barking out orders. “Vincent, call Alex, Roger, and Julie. Get them here ASAP.” She walked over to Mara. “If I’m reading this correctly, Devan’s obtained information about their plans. We need all hands on deck. I’ll contact Frank Gilbert, and we can all reconvene back here once he arrives and after you’ve had a chance to talk to Colonel Bowman.”
“Good plan.” Mara nodded nervously.
“Vincent, block this conference room out for us for the next forty-eight hours.” Payton pulled open the door. “Come. I’ll get you set up in our communications center.”
Devan sat on the sofa enjoying a cup of tea. She was feeling great and refused to let Christopher’s foul mood get to her. She’d been stuck in this house with him for almost three weeks. However, while she was looking forward to getting out of this place, she worried about Teona and what may happen to her once they were all gone and she was left alone in this god-awful place.
Although no one else had come to the house, she couldn’t be certain that one of Christopher’s followers didn’t know about the house and would show up weeks or months from now looking for him. She knew the government would never let them take Teona with them, but she had to figure out a way to make sure she was safe for the long term.
“How long are you going to hold me here? You can’t keep me here forever.” He was awake and growling as usual.
She set the teacup on the side table and stood. “I don’t intend to. When my team arrives, you’ll be going on a little trip of your own. After we get you out of Russia, I suspect you’ll be sent to a black site to live out the rest of your sad, miserable, and grumpy days.”
“You cannot take me across the border.” He looked away but couldn’t hide worry in his face.
She laughed. “Oh, I can, and I will. Your plans. Remember the ones on your computer? Well, they’ve all been sent to my team.” She smiled at him. “They are, at this very moment, rounding up your merry band of toy soldiers.”
When he spit on the floor, she walked over and grabbed his chin. “How many times have I told you not to do that?” She leaned in close to his face. “You are a miserable excuse for a man.” She released his chin and wiped her hand on her shirt. “God, you stink.”
He was defiant. “My men are coming for me. No one is coming for you.”
She laughed at him. “I’m going to go check my email to see what good news is waiting for me.”
The house sat on three acres of almost undisturbed woodlands in a secluded area of Fort Meade that spoke of old money and distinction. The brick façade stood tall with wide Palladian windows on the first level and dormers thrusting out of the high-pitched roof. The residence was surrounded by red maples, dogwood trees, and a plethora of other native trees and shrubs. It was a serene picture of urban Maryland and could have been a highlight in Architectural Digest, but inside, the atmosphere was far from serene.
“I don’t need you to protect me, Mom. I need you to understand why I need to go. She thinks I just left her there.” Alex was seething.
Mara walked out of the butler’s pantry with a bag of flour. “I do understand. But you’re too close to this…too emotionally involved. I won’t risk it.”
“I almost got her killed.” Angry tears streaked her cheeks.
“What you’ve done is play a crucial role in saving her. I know how you feel.” Mara opened the refrigerator and pulled out a jug of milk and a carton of eggs.
“You know how I feel?” Alex rolled her eyes. “Are you serious?”
Just as Mara moved to the double oven and removed a pan of cookies, the door to the garage swung open, and Payton entered. “Colonel, I’m home.”
Mara was the epitome of calm, cool, and collected as she turned to smile. “Good evening, Director.”
Alex’s tantrum then hit a new level. “Oh, my
God, I don’t believe the two of you.”
Payton dumped her bag onto the wide kitchen island. “Hey, Alex. What don’t you believe?” The tension hit her full force, and she realized she’d walked into a battlefield. “What’s going on?”
Alex threw up her arms. “What’s going on is the colonel, my mother, is being a cold-hearted bitc―”
Payton shouted, “Alex! Don’t you dare.”
Her tirade continued. “And you’re no better. Jesus Christ, you don’t even say each other’s name. It’s colonel this, director that. Do you even know who you are anymore?”
Mara scooped cookies from the pan and let Alex rant. She knew her daughter would eventually run out of steam and listen to reason. “Alex, you’re upset and overreacting.”
“Do either of you have any feelings…show any emotions? You walk around like a couple of fucking robots.”
This was way more than a childish tantrum, Payton thought. Her gaze flicked to Mara. “Apparently, I missed something.”
Her words dissipated into the air as Alex got a second wind. “You two walk out of this house every morning, put on this ridiculous façade, and pretend to be someone you’re not. I used to be able to come into this house…our home…and find my moms. But somewhere along the way, you’ve lost yourselves in the pretend lives you live at the ICC and the base.” She turned to Payton. “Yes, Director, you missed something. The colonel doesn’t think it’s important that I go on the mission to rescue Devan.”
Now she understood but knew Alex wouldn’t like her take on the situation any more than she liked the colonel’s. “While I do believe your presence would be an emotional benefit to Devan, I agree with the colonel. You have nothing to contribute to the mission.”
She dropped onto the barstool. “You played a major role in the initial mission. You deployed the program that we’ve utilized…Devan’s utilized, to let us know she’s still alive and provide us with detailed information about the rebel group’s plans and movements.”
She held up a finger when Alex opened her mouth to argue. “Let me finish.” She waited until Alex crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the counter. “However, from an operational standpoint, there’s nothing for you to contribute to this rescue. In addition to the obvious fact that you are so emotional about it only serves to bolster that argument.”
Alex threw her hands in the air. “You’re both so fucking analytical. When you thought Devan was dead, you went on about your normal days and acted as if nothing happened. You don’t have the capacity to feel anything.”
Payton stood, leaned toward Alex, and placed her hand flat on the surface of the island. Her anger was barely controlled, and her words were eerily slow and deliberate. “I suggest you stop speaking before you say something you will one day regret.”
Too late. Mara had had enough. She picked up a pan of cookies, threw them toward the sink, then rounded the island and stepped face to face with Alex. “Let me tell you one thing, little girl. Don’t you dare tell me I don’t have feelings. I have scars from every single soldier that I’ve ever lost. I can tell you where…how…and when every single one of them died.” Mara’s anger was raging now. Tears streamed down her fiery red cheeks. “I am not allowed to show my feelings. I have to be strong… have to stand firm.”
She swiped her hand across her cheeks and brushed away the tears that finally broke through. She couldn’t look at Payton, couldn’t bear to see the sympathy in her eyes, so she continued to shout at Alex. “If I don’t, everything goes to hell.” She twisted the towel in her hands, struggling to control her fury. “I reconcile my feelings in the privacy of my office…here in my home…alone.”
Alex watched in stunned silence. She’d never once seen this kind of emotion, anger…rage come from her mother. Not even from the façade of the colonel had she seen this level of anger, anguish. A dam had burst deep inside Mara, and it all came flooding out.
Mara angrily swiped the tears away. “Do you think for one instant that I didn’t feel the loss of Devan? She’s like a daughter to me. Losing her was like losing my own flesh and blood. I live Every. Fucking. Day. knowing that I can lose someone, that I can lose you. Do you think it was easy for me to send you on that mission?”
She stared down Alex. “Do you? The colonel in me knew you were the best person for the job, but the mother in me was terrified to let you go.” She broke eye contact with Alex and looked down. “I fucking loathe the part of me that can send you, my only daughter, my flesh and blood, into danger.” She sniffed and lifted her head in defiance. “So, you go ahead and think I’m a…” She sneered. “…cold-hearted bitch, if that’s what makes you feel better.” She tossed the towel on the island. “I don’t care. I can’t care.” With that, she turned and walked out, leaving Alex standing in shock and staring after her.
The silence was palpable as Payton sat and studied the woman who was her employee, the woman she’d embraced as a daughter when she was still in diapers. No, it wasn’t biological, it went deeper than that. It had not been a combination of genetic material, but a choice made over twenty-five years ago. A choice she and Mara made to create a home together and raise Alex, side by side, as their daughter.
She empathized with Mara and the difficult position she’d faced when sending Alex into harm’s way. She’d been there herself when, as Alex’s boss, she’d had to send Alex on missions. There was no room for emotions…no place for love or fear or the human need to keep those you love close and protected. No, she thought, emotions clouded judgment, created conflict, caused one to second-guess critical decisions. Emotions had brought down governments, kingdoms, and the most well-planned operational missions.
She also sympathized with Alex’s frustrations. She had no doubt that if Mara or Alex were in Devan’s position, she would feel the same overwhelming need to rush in, to run through the fires of hell or a hailstorm of bullets to rescue them and to bring them home safely.
She knew if the leader stumbled over emotions when a soldier died during a mission, it risked the lives of those remaining. No, the emotions of the losses came after the mission was done, and the reality of them hit you in the gut like an armored Humvee. She’d seen it time and time again in Mara. Nights when she’d come home after a devastating loss and was safely hidden inside this house, her sanctuary, her refuge from the storm. It was only then that she let her feelings break through the thick dented armor that Alex had called Mara’s façade.
“She calls them, you know.” Payton’s voice was quiet and subdued.
Alex looked over absently. “What? Calls who?”
“The spouses, the children, the parents. The families of the soldiers she’s lost. She feels more than you could ever comprehend.” She was looking at Alex, but her mind’s eye saw the grief of Mara’s face after one of those losses. “Every year on the anniversary of their death. She wants the families to know…needs them to know that she remembers their sacrifice. That they’re not forgotten.”
She stood and pulled a bottle of wine from the rack. “For years, I didn’t know. Oh, I knew she had bad days…the sad days. I’d come home, and she’d be baking cookies.” She tipped her head to the racks of cookies cooling on the counter and the pile now scattered over the counter and in the sink. “It’s her way of coping.” Payton pulled two wine glasses from the cupboard. “By the looks of it, she’s had quite a bad one today.”
Alex looked around the kitchen and couldn’t help but feel guilt wash over her. She remained quiet and knew Payton had more to say.
She twisted the miniature auger into the cork. “One day, I came home, and she was baking and crying. When I asked her what was wrong, she fell apart, just crumbled into my arms.” She poured two glasses of wine and slid one toward Alex. “That day was the first anniversary of a mission that had gone bad in every way possible, and she’d lost seven young soldiers. She’d spent the afternoon calling each family to check on them, let them know that their son or daughter… husband had not been jus
t a faceless soldier, but someone who was missed, remembered, and honored by her.
“Some of the families were grateful to her for taking the time to call. Others just wanted to forget and move on with their lives. But there were a couple of families that were still raw and angry and needed someone to blame. They used the call as an opportunity to criticize and berate her. It nearly destroyed her.”
Alex was captivated and terribly saddened to hear the story and came to sit beside Payton.
“That night, she let me see a book she keeps. It isn’t a scrapbook of happy memories, but a journal of devastating losses. Each page has a soldier’s name at the top, their rank, the mission, and the date of their death. The date they died…on her watch. The rest of the page is filled with the names of their spouses, kids, or parents if they weren’t married.
“She has birthdays, anniversaries, and graduations noted for the immediate family members. On the back of each page, she’s listed the dates she’s called, sent cards, sent small gifts. There are even photos that some families have sent to her of the soldier’s kids as they’ve grown up without their parent…her soldier.”
Payton took a sip of her wine. “You may think she has no feelings, doesn’t care. She does. Much to the detriment of her own emotional well-being. She’s the most caring person I’ve ever met.”
Payton poured more wine. “When she puts that uniform on each day, it’s like a shield, a suit of armor. It’s not some tricky façade to fool the masses. It protects her from herself. Otherwise, the pain she so often has to endure would destroy her.”
Alex’s voice was almost a whisper. “I didn’t know.”
