When the doctor finally signed off on him going back to work, my dad showed up at the job site only to be told the company was “downsizing” and he was being laid off. He went back to the office and learned from the receptionist that they hired three new technicians while he was gone. They were all three young guys right out of college. My dad was hurt and pissed. He probably should have tried suing the company at least for his retirement wages, but hindsight and all that. Instead, he used the combination to the wall safe and stole almost ten grand in cash. That night, he packed us up and moved us to Florida. I was as confused as hell until they came knocking on our door a week later and arrested him. He was sentenced to five years in prison. He served three before my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. I took care of her as well as I could, but toward the end, she wouldn’t stop asking for my dad. I made a trip to New Orleans and told the judge about the situation. Somehow he arranged not only for the old man to make the trip but to get kicked early so he could stay with her until she died. The judge may not remember me, but I’ll never forget him.
“Sometimes part of life is making hard choices based on what someone else wants or needs, Leif. She’s a grown woman. She’s an attorney. You have to trust that she’ll call us if she needs us—and stay out of her way until that happens.”
He nodded, but I could still see that fire in his eyes. Where Karli was concerned, this kid teetered on the edge of insanity. I just hope that one of these days his persistence doesn’t get him into real trouble. “So what would you like me to do…about your situation?”
“I think we have it covered for now. Go home and get some sleep.” He nodded again, but I’d lay odds that he’d be headed uptown when he left here instead of down. I guess I’d have to let him follow his own instincts and just be there for him if and when it blows up in his face.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LEIF
I left the office and circled around the block before I got on the highway so Blake didn’t see which direction I was going. I wasn’t stalking Karli. I was worried about her, but I felt a little comforted by the fact that she was inside a law office with security, or a courthouse with armed bailiffs most of her day. It was Hunter that caused me to worry the most. When I was with them at the house, I kept thinking about them killing that dog. They’d gone for the weakest, easiest mark—and also one that would hurt the judge. They didn’t want to kill him; they wanted to control him. Killing the dog was simply to show him what they could do. I spent a lot of time thinking about what my next move would be if I had no conscience and I wanted to force someone to do what I wanted them to do. What do people love most? What caused the prosecutor to recuse himself? Children, grandchildren, innocent little victims that are small, naïve, and easy to snatch. I didn’t care how secure they all insisted this school Hunter was going to was, I just couldn’t shake the bad feeling that he would be the one these guys would go after next.
I got off the freeway and took Constance Street through the Lower Garden District until I saw the big church and the school that was attached to it. I parked my car across the street in front of a blue Victorian house, the same place I’d sat and watched from yesterday. I moved my seat back and reclined it slightly so it wasn’t obvious that a man was sitting alone in a car watching a school. I didn’t want to get pegged as a pedophile; Blake might not save my ass on that one.
It was about half an hour after I got there when the morning rush began. Parents in designer cars and clothes came and went, dropping off their little minions dressed up in their Catholic school finery. The buses pulled in and out, and children poured off of them like little ants out of a sandy hill. I kept watch for Karli’s little smart car. It was red—so it was easy to spot. It was almost eight when I saw her drive up behind one of the buses and jump out of the car like she was in a hurry. I didn’t know anything about how long it took a little boy to get ready for school, but I didn’t like her running late. It would make her less apt to pay attention to her surroundings.
As usual, she looked amazing. I watched her hurry around to the passenger side and help Hunter out of his seat. She was wearing a dark green pencil skirt, white heels, and a white sleeveless shirt. Her hair hung loose. It was getting really long, almost to her waist. I loved the way it smelled. Each time I got close to her, I wanted to inhale it.
Hunter looked sharp in his blue polo shirt and khaki shorts. Karli helped him put his little backpack on and then took his hand and they hurried inside. I watched her hurry back out a few minutes later. She’d left her car unlocked, and she didn’t even glance around her as she took off toward the freeway. I shook my head and fought the temptation to follow her. I stayed put. For some reason, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that Hunter needed me more.
I tried to keep my mind clear, as I sat there hour after hour. At nine thirty, I ate a granola bar. At ten, I had some cantaloupe I’d cut up and put in my little insulated bag. At ten thirty, I started to go for my sandwich but made myself stop. At this rate, this little stakeout was going to add ten pounds to my ass. Instead, I made myself think about Hunter. I loved how curious he was and how he listened to me when I explained things like he was absorbing every word. Those big blue eyes of his always seemed to be filled with wonder or awe, especially when he was seeing or hearing about something new. When I looked at him now, I was finally able to see him…and not the other Leif. Damn, that was exactly where I was trying so hard not to let my mind travel to…it was the last time I talked to Karli before I saw her again at her parent’s house…
Killen, Texas
2015
“Staff Sergeant Thompson!” I was walking toward the parking lot and had almost made it when I heard my name. It had been one hell of a busy week, and now that it was Friday afternoon all I wanted was to get home, put my feet up, and have a beer. I turned towards the voice…and I saw Private First Class Leap. He was assigned to command on the base and works with our sergeant major. He saluted me, and then he said, “Sergeant Major Nichols wants to see you in his office right now, sir.”
Damn. “Can you tell me what he wants to see me about?”
“No, sir. He just said that I better not come back without you, sir.”
That didn’t sound good at all. Damn. I couldn’t think of anything I’d done. Since I ran Karli off that last time, I’d gone to work and home and kept to myself. As far as I knew, no one was complaining about me at work. I realized while I was beginning to obsess that Leap was still standing at attention. “At ease soldier. Let him know that I’m on my way.” He saluted me once more and then scurried off like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. Our sergeant major was not a nice guy—and that poor kid probably got his ass reamed on a daily basis. I put my hat back on my head, took a deep breath, and headed up towards the offices.
I knocked on the sergeant major’s door and at the sound of his, “Enter!” I pushed it open. I was prepared to salute…but I wasn’t prepared for the sight of the man sitting in the chair in front of the desk. I stood at attention, feeling like I was going to be sick until the sergeant major said, “At ease, soldier. Come in and close the door.” I did as I was told, trying not to stare at the man in the black beret. His eyes were on me, taking me in. I felt like my head was spinning. It was trying too hard to process what was happening here.
I stood with my back ram-rod straight and my eyes on the wall above his head until he finally stood up and said, “I hear you and I have a lot in common, soldier.” He spat out the “soldier.”
As proof that I’d grown up a lot over the years, I spat back, “It’s staff sergeant.” We were both at the same pay grade—even though he was supposed to be dead.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his blue eyes. “Of course. Have a seat, Staff Sergeant Thompson.”
I looked at my commanding officer first, and he motioned for me to sit down. I sat and waited until the “real” Thompson began to speak again. “I joined the army in 2004. I’ve given over ten long, hard years to my country. The l
ast three years I spent as a ghost.”
A ghost is one of those things that is somewhere between fact and legend in the military. They are men who disappear off the planet—and either never resurface, or come back with a well-practiced and prepared story. Wherever this Leif had been, it left him with a long, jagged scar that ran down one side of his face and cold, hard eyes.
He seemed to be waiting for me to say something or ask a question. When I didn’t he went on, “As part of my return to life, we had to correct a few things in the system. Imagine our surprise when we found out that my personal records had been accessed back in 2012 from Helmund Province. It took some doing to track down who had accessed them; he was good, I have to give him that.”
He paused again. I was holding my breath, still not prepared to say anything. He hadn’t asked me a direct question yet, so I wasn’t about to go on the defensive. “But, the U.S. Army is better. We found your friend Sam Ricci. He retired last year and is living a pretty decent life on his pension in Florida. Just so you know, he didn’t want to give you up, but he still has two kids at home and one in college and losing that pension would hurt.”
I wasn’t upset with Sam. I always told my men if I asked them to do anything for me and it came back down on us, I’d take full responsibility.
“We took a look at your life, Leif, and when I found out that not long after you accessed my records, you took a trip to New Orleans I found it a little curious since I’d taken that same trip myself on my last R&R, but you knew that didn’t you, Leif?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did you use my records for, Leif?”
“I didn’t use them for anything, sir.”
“You didn’t pretend to be me?”
“Yes, sir, sort of.”
“Staff Sergeant! A straight answer!” My sergeant major was glaring at me.
“Yes, sir. I was actually trying to give you a straight answer. May I start at the beginning?”
“Please do,” the other Thompson said. I took a deep, shaky breath and started talking. I told them about the letters and going to New Orleans to meet Karli…I didn’t tell them about Hunter. It wasn’t my place to tell him that. I did tell them I gave her a copy of his records. That would be another crime they could charge me with, but other than Hunter, I was trying to stick to the truth as much as possible. When I finished talking, the sergeant major was now looking at the other officer with a look that I couldn’t read. I suspect he was a little pissed off that he’d wasted his time only to find out the whole thing was about him being unfaithful to his wife.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence while Thompson stared me down. At last he stood up, and after giving me a disgusted look, he looked at my sergeant major and said, “I’d just like the whole thing dropped.”
I tried to keep my face completely neutral…but I was seething on the inside. He’d come here because he wanted me to pay for my “crimes.” Now that he’d found out that revealing them would also reveal him as a liar and cheat, he wanted no part of it. I was also pissed that he hadn’t even asked about Karli. It made me even happier that I hadn’t told him about Hunter.
Sergeant Major Nichols looked at me with a different contempt than his look had shown towards the other Thompson, and then he said, “You’re dismissed for now.” I saluted them both and left. As soon as I closed the door, I heard raised voices. My career would depend on which one of them had more pull with the brass, I assume.
When I got home, I agonized for hours over whether or not to call Karli.
I finally gave in, because even if she hung up on me, I would know that at least I tried.
“Leif? Are you kidding? Why are you calling me?” She sounded thrilled to hear from me.
“Karli, please don’t hang up. This is important. I’ll say what I called for and I’ll never call you again, okay?”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know how to say this…”
“I’m hanging up.”
“No wait! Karli, the other Leif, he’s not dead.”
There was a really, really long pause. When she finally spoke, it was only to say, “What?”
“I’m not supposed to be telling you any of this. It’s classified information, but I owe you, and I could care less what happens to me these days. Thompson was classified as dead because he went off the grid. He was what we call a “ghost.” That means he lived with the Afghanis or Iraqis or hell it could have even been Columbians. No one but he and his commander will ever know unless they tell them. They live as one of them, and so their real records have to be doctored or expunged. Because he had so many years of service and so his family could receive benefits, they made it seem like he was dead instead. My guess is that he wasn’t supposed to come back, but for whatever reason, he did. He found out I accessed his records. He wanted to know why.”
“What did you tell him?” Her voice was shaky with shock—and maybe disbelief. I didn’t have a good track record with the truth where Karli was concerned so I didn’t blame her.
“I told him the truth, except that I didn’t mention Hunter.”
“Why?”
“Because it wasn’t my place. That’s up to you. I’m not sure, but I assume he’s living back in Boston now if that’s where his family is, so if you want to get in touch with him and tell him yourself, that’s an option.”
She was quiet again—and I could hear a little boy’s voice in the background. I wished that I was there. I wished that she didn’t hate me so that I could hold her until she decided what to do. “I need to go.”
“Are you okay, Karli?”
“I’m fine.” She disconnected the call.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
PRESENT DAY
LEIF
At eleven, I ate my sandwich and drank the rest of my Gatorade. I was just about to get out of the car to stretch my legs when I saw the man. He was nearly six feet tall and his skin was dark like maybe he was Mexican or Columbian. That was what first caught my attention. He was dressed in a pair of black cotton shorts that came down past his knees, a white A-line tank, and a pair of black and white Chucks on his feet. His arms and shoulders were huge, the kind of muscle that a guy might get from years of working out on the prison yard. In all fairness, he could have gotten them at a gym, but these arms were also covered in black and green tattoos…the kind a guy might get in prison. He was leaned up against his sleek, black car with his arms folded and staring up at the church. He probably wasn’t even interested in the school, and he was probably not here to snatch Hunter, but probabilities weren’t good enough for me at that moment. I waited and held my breath for just a few minutes when I saw them, a young teacher and a line of about twenty students at the gate. The teacher was affixing sticky nametags to the front of each one of their shirts. From where I sat, I couldn’t see if Hunter was in the line, but I did see that the big guy was on the move. I grabbed my gun off the seat next to me, and as I stepped out of the car, I tucked it into the back of my belt. I was moving as I was tucking it, crossing the street as the man walked up to the still-closed gate and said something to the teacher. I saw her startle slightly and then turn and smile at him.
She glanced at me, and I slowed my movements. When I got to the sidewalk, I turned toward the church instead of the school. I walked away from them, but slowly. I could hear them talking but not what they were saying. It almost sounded like another language. I glanced over my shoulder every so often to make sure she hadn’t opened the gate. When I watched yesterday, I saw that the teachers wore name badges that worked on the gates like hotel keys. They tapped part of the tag against the lock on the gate and it would click open. So far I hadn’t seen one of them open one without a security officer standing there.
I made it up to the steps of the church and went high enough so that I could see the school. The teacher was still smiling and flirting with the man—and the kids were beginning to become unruly. That went on for a few minutes until a security officer came out o
f the building and approached them. The man stepped back from the gate and headed toward his car. I kept watching him. He got into the car and started it, but he didn’t leave. The teacher was now talking to the officer, and in the next few minutes, everything happened so fast that some of it I’d even have a hard time remembering later on. The security officer slid his key in the gate, just as the man got back out of the car. The teacher was still talking to the officer and he had his back to the now unlocked gate. The big dark man wasn’t walking toward them anymore…he was jogging. I started jogging from my side, and I hit the sidewalk just as the big man threw his weight into the gate, knocking the security officer back about three feet.
Some of the children screamed and the young teacher yelled at the man, “Miguel what are you doing?” She took a step toward him, and he pushed her out of the way, and in almost one motion, he scooped Hunter up in one of his big arms. I could hear Hunter yelling and the sound of his little voice went right through me as I pulled the gun out of my waistband.
“Put him down,” I said, as I took aim at the back of the man’s head. He turned around to face me then, still moving backwards with his big, beefy arm around Hunter’s little neck now. The security officer was on his feet now and talking on his radio. The teacher was ushering the kids back inside.
“Leif…” Hunter gasped out. His big blue eyes were as wide as saucers and filled with tears. I wanted to put a bullet in this guy just for scaring him.
“It’s okay, little buddy, just hold still for a minute. It’s going to be okay.”
The big man smiled as he reached into his pocket with his free hand…and pulled out his own gun. My stomach tied itself into knots, as he pressed it into Hunter’s temple. The little boy had tears running freely down his cheeks, and my heart felt like it was breaking. I’d never been so scared in my life, not even in the Middle East under sniper fire. In a strong Spanish accent, the man said, “Put the gun down.” I could hear sirens in the distance. I was trying to calculate how far away they were and how far he’d get with Hunter before they caught up with him. Damn it! I couldn’t let him put Hunter in that car.
LEIF (Blake Security Book 3) Page 10
