He could tell both of his colonels thought him unreasonable, but there had to be a line somewhere. If, after a month of surveillance, they couldn’t present a case against these men, then he refused to send them to their deaths.
In the end, seventy-two men were on the dead list; the other ninety-seven remained inconclusive.
Marge looked at the inconclusive list. “Sir, there are some serious problems on this list.”
“Then get proof, Marge,” Logan countered.
“I’m trying!” she snapped. “But some of these guys are really careful and they can see you’re cleaning house.”
“Well they aren’t going on the dead list without proof,” he assured her, and then dismissed them both, tired of arguing the point. God, he hated this job!
He ached for the old days when he’d been nothing but a lowly colonel, responsible for a sleepy satellite fort in Broadtown. His fond memories quickly centered on Alisha. The first time he’d met her, she’d just made her miraculous dive in a dead wind. How she’d survived a dead-wind dive was as much of a mystery today as the day it had happened. There was a hell of a big difference between diving into a hundred-mile-an-hour wind and diving in a dead zone.
He recalled how cautious she had been crossing the bridge. She’d wanted her catcher back—if not for that, she would have run off on foot. As it was, she’d given him a pretty good run for his money. Yet he’d found her. He’d had no choice. He’d loved her from her very first smile.
What he wanted more than anything in the world was to hear her voice, to see her smile of hers. Before he could tell himself the myriad reasons it was a bad idea, he pulled up the videophone on the computer and tapped in her number. He’d let fate decide. If she happened to be at her computer, then they would talk. If not, he would suck it up and get back to the hell his life had become.
Chapter 20
Daily’s story about how a Ryder had gotten out early with a dishonorable discharge for having an illegal baby intrigued Alisha. From her understanding of the laws, the trade-off might be worth it if she could make sure she landed in the Broadtown prison where Carol resided. She knew prison life was hard, but she doubted it could be harder than the Corps.
She decided to get Denny aka Betty’s opinion on the matter, so she videophoned her friend and revealed her plan.
“Alisha, have you lost your mind?” Betty exclaimed.
“Carol said life in jail wasn’t so bad.”
“She said that because you looked like you were about to cry on her. Life in prison is really bad, Alisha—a thousand times worse than on the street.”
“Well, life here is worse than the street too,” Alisha retorted.
“Bullshit!” Betty replied. “You never experienced what street-life could be like. We made sure of it. We took you in from the day you arrived and kept you fed, sheltered and protected.”
“Well, Carol would be there in prison to protect me.”
“Alisha, find another plan,” Betty pleaded. “That one sucks!”
“Yeah, it does,” Alisha admitted, and they both started to laugh. “How do you like your new home?”
“It’s okay, if you like the bomb shelter feel,” Betty replied. “I’ve asked Fred if I can put murals of windows on the walls so I can at least have the illusion of living in the world. He said he didn’t see a problem with that.”
“Who’s Fred?”
“Good question,” Betty replied. “I can’t decide if he’s SS or just a really anal-retentive SkyRyder. But let’s just call him my handler. If I need something at the manufacturing site, I call Fred, and it arrives a few hours later. If I need something in my bunker, I call Fred, and it shows up. He’s really quite accommodating and kind of cute.”
“Betty, I didn’t know you swung both ways.”
“Mind your own business. Since you’re such a busybody…you gettin’ any?”
“No. Even if I wanted any, there’s not a Ryder who would risk Jack’s wrath after the beating poor Captain Rutherford took just for negotiating a kiss or a lap dance if he made the best shot.”
“Hmmm…” Betty said as if a new idea had just occurred to her.
“What?” Alisha asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“Nothing,” Betty replied. “You really like Jack, don’t you?”
“He’s my…” She paused. “…only friend here.” She had been about to say he was her best friend, but she realized Denny aka Betty might resent that.
A computer screen popup alerted her she had another videophone call waiting. The caller was General Logan. “Betty, I’ll call you back tomorrow, okay? I’ve got another call on the line, and it’s someone I need to vent a little anger at.”
“Go get ’em, tiger!” Betty yelled, and the screen went blank for a moment and then Logan’s face appeared. God, he looked so tired and haggard she barely recognized him. Her heart went out to him, but she forced herself to pretend not to care.
***
Alisha’s image appeared before Logan. He knew it wasn’t a hallucination, because if he were imagining her, she would have looked warm and loving. The Alisha before him looked about as friendly as Marge.
“General, what a surprise! Did you accidentally dial my number instead of General Powell’s? I can transfer you if you wish.”
Logan flinched. She was still pissed he’d sent his email through Powell. He wanted to apologize, but Marge had warned him there were still security breaches occurring.
“If I wanted to call Powell, I would have done so. I meant to call you, Alisha.”
“What on Earth for?”
Her clear anger and resentment made him very sorry he had called.
“I wanted to know how Daily’s doing.”
“How do you think she’s doing?” Alisha asked. “You let her be gang-raped.”
“I didn’t let her, Alisha.” Logan was angry she blamed him. She had no idea what he was up against in this hellhole.
“Well, you sure didn’t stop it.”
“No, I clearly didn’t!” he replied. “Now that we’ve nailed down my responsibility, can you tell me how she’s doing?”
“Not good. She’s got all this rage bottled up inside her and it’s getting beyond her control. If she attacks another SkyRyder and the general gets wind of it, he’ll have her shipped back to the East Coast before you know it.”
“Alisha, you can’t let that happen,” Logan stated evenly.
“You think I’m going to butt heads with General Powell again? Not a chance. If he sends her back, I’ll feel real bad, but I won’t go against him.”
“Then help her!”
“I’m trying!” Alisha shouted back. “We spent half the day screaming ‘Men suck!” so she could get some rage out of her.”
“Did it help?” he asked, doubtful that would improve matters.
“I have no clue if it helped her or not, but it made me feel a hell of a lot better.”
“Alisha, you don’t hate men.” Logan hoped she understood he was begging her not to hate him.
“Don’t I? Except for Gramps and Jack, both of whom I love very much, the entire male race can go to hell for all I care!”
So she did hate him. But it couldn’t just be the email. There would need to be something more than that to turn her so clearly against him. What did she know? What had Daily told her? What did Daily even know? Marge! Alisha had heard he had taken a partner.
“Daily told you about Marge,” Logan said.
“No she didn’t,” Alisha assured. “We talked about Marge, but I already knew about the bitch.”
“She’s a nice person, Alisha,” Logan insisted. “You’d like her,” he added, but doubted his own words the moment they were stated.
“Oh yeah! I found my first communication with her quite charming. If I recall, she told me the next time I broke the chain of command and tried to communicate with you directly, she’d register a complaint with General Powell.”
Logan was stunned. “When wa
s this?”
“This morning,” Alisha replied.
“Why were you communicating with Marge at all?”
“I certainly didn’t intend to chat with your new bitch. I’ve better things to do with my life. I simply sent you a query about whether you’re aware of the new suits we’re using over here, and you sic your bitch on me.”
“Would you please stop referring to her as a bitch?”
“What would you like me to call her—your woman? Your lover?” Alisha asked, her voice suddenly sounding very tired.
“The arrangement is similar to yours and Jack’s.” Logan hoped she would understand what he meant, while anyone else listening would not.
“Well then, she’s something special. Jack’s my friend, my advisor, my soul mate, and my lover.”
Logan’s chest tightened to the point of pain. He was certain he’d have a heart attack any second. “All that?”
“For quite a while now—almost from the start. I can see you’re pissed because I lied to you and told you there was nothing going on between us. But you know how crazy the general gets over this shit. So we kept it under wraps for a good while, but eventually the general found out. That’s why Jack really got put under house arrest and why I got sent down the ranks.”
“I see,” Logan said, feeling the last shred of humanity fall from his weary bones. “Well, then I misspoke. While Marge is available to satisfy me sexually, she’s not my soul mate, or friend, or any of the hogwash you went on about. She’s simply convenient. My heart isn’t so easily manipulated as to fall for every woman I bed.”
“Then I pity you,” Alisha replied. “I think love is the only thing you can count on in the end.”
Before Logan could think of a reply, the screen went blank.
***
It took Logan less than five minutes to find Marge in her room.
Marge smiled at his arrival. “You’ve never come here before. Is this a step forward in our relationship?”
“A giant step backward is more like it,” Logan replied. “I’m quite certain I told you not to read my emails.”
“You did, and I promised when everyone else stopped reading them, I would as well. We aren’t there yet.”
“And answering them?” He struggled to control his rage.
“I don’t answer them,” Marge said, then paused as she remembered something.
“You didn’t tell Alisha to stop breaking the chain of command?”
Marge looked slightly pained. “Except for that one.”
Logan’s anger was too much to hold in. “What gave you the right?” he demanded as he grabbed her by the arms and slammed her against the wall.
Marge seemed stunned by his reaction, but after studying his face for a moment, she answered. “I was trying to protect her. Your enemies are desperate right now. They need to find a way to cripple you. Until this moment, I didn’t realize you cared for her. However, it was clear she cared for you. I was just trying to stop her from writing you any more pathetic pleas for love.”
Logan forced himself to release his grip and back away from her. If that had really been Marge’s motivation, he couldn’t fault her. Yet from his conversation with Alisha today, he was pretty sure Marge had misread Alisha’s message as badly as she had misread his feelings for Alisha.
“Do you have the message Alisha sent?”
Marge went to the computer and pulled it up.
Logan walked over and read it. It was short, to the point, and in no way declared the love Marge claimed was there.
General Logan.
I hope all is well with you. We have new suits on this coast that are a significant improvement. Have you heard about them? I’ll be glad to provide further detail if you are interested.
Alisha.
“Marge, you are either delusional or a damn liar. There’s nothing in this email to justify your response. In fact, your response is more likely to alert my enemies than this email.”
“Logan, I’m good at my job. I’m telling you this girl loves you. It’s in every word she writes.”
“You’re wrong. Alisha is in love with someone else, and she has been for quite a while.”
“Yet you still love her.”
“No, Marge, that part you got right. I don’t care about the girl,” Logan snapped. He’d be damned if he’d admit his true feelings now.
“Then why are you so angry with me?”
Logan grabbed her arms and slammed her back against the wall. If she wanted to see his anger, then he’d let her. “Because you’re playing me, Marge, and I don’t like it one damn bit. If you ever hijack another message intended for me, you’ll find your name on the dead list. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal clear,” Marge assured him, then pulled his mouth down to hers.
Logan’s response to her kiss surprised him. How could he feel passion toward someone he wanted to hurt? Yet he did.
Giving in to his mix of anger and lust, he shoved her onto the bed and rammed into her repeatedly until his anger faded.
Afterward, he lay at her side, still uncertain what the hell had happened. All he knew was the anger and pain that had welled up to an uncontrollable level had diminished.
He reached out and stroked her stomach. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, his voice low and soft.
“No,” she assured him. “I rather enjoyed it.”
“I don’t normally finish a fight this way.”
“Me either, but in our case, it might be a good idea.”
“Why’s that?”
Marge turned to him and stroked his muscular chest. “Because our lives depend on each other, we can’t afford anger. So the next time I make you angry…”
Logan rolled on top of her and kissed her hard. When he broke away, she smiled.
“Am I making you angry again?” she teased.
“Actually, you are,” Logan replied as he drove himself deep inside her. “You’re still playing me, Marge, and you think I’m so stupid I can’t see it, but you’re wrong. I know exactly what you’re doing.”
She closed her eyes as he drove yet deeper into her. “I don’t think you’re stupid, and you’re right, I am playing you. So tell me…” she gasped between waves of pleasure. “Why are you still here?”
Logan pulled out, causing her to groan as if in pain from the loss of pleasure. “Because my life is so bleak and miserable even manipulated pleasure is better than no pleasure at all.” With that said, he rammed back into her and climaxed.
Chapter 21
It’s over, Alisha realized as she stared at the blank screen. Up to that point, she had held out hope based on his declaration of love that somehow they would overcome all the stupid obstacles and find a way to get back together. Now she knew it would never happen.
She had lost him, as surely as if he had died. It would have been easier had he died. Then she could have honorably mourned his loss. She could see nothing honorable in the end of their love. It was cruel and unnecessary and she struggled to understand how the man she thought she loved could so casually inflict pain without any sign of remorse or regret. No matter how she looked at it, she saw only one conclusion: he had never loved her. He’d just wanted her in the Corps. She had been his means to land a promotion. Now, he no longer needed her, so he used Marge to drive her away.
Chapter 22
It was Alisha’s day off. She’d planned to spend it with Gramps, but General Powell had restricted her to quarters because she had missed her quota this week by one. She couldn’t even call her grandfather and tell him. In the end, she funneled an email through Betty to her Gramps.
She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. God, she hated Powell! She’d never last twenty years. Maybe she could ask for a transfer to some sleepy fort in the Midwest. Fat chance there! The General planned to squeeze every drop of blood out of her before he’d let her go anywhere else.
Jack burst through the door and came to her bedside as he kicked off his shoes. “Do you tr
ust me?” he asked as he unbuttoned his shirt.
Alisha propped herself up on her elbows and blinked in confusion. “Of course,” she replied, watching him strip down to his jockey shorts.
Without hesitation, he slipped into bed with her and pulled her into his arms. “Then go along with me,” he advised, and kissed her, first softly and then with a growing passion that sent sparks down to her toes.
Their kiss surprised Alisha, not just because it shouldn’t be happening, but by the way it made her feel. She felt his manhood stiffen and press against her lower stomach as he pulled her tight against him.
Part of her wanted to know why he had kissed her, why he suddenly wanted her physically, but another part of her didn’t care why. It made her happy, and she hadn’t felt happy in months. She kissed him back with a passion equal to his own.
Suddenly the door opened and she heard an all too familiar woman’s voice scream in horror. Jack broke off the kiss, but didn’t release her from his embrace.
“David, one moment!” the woman shrieked, and slammed the door closed behind her. She and General Powell stood in the room, looking shocked beyond words.
The woman recovered first. “You ungrateful child, you’ve ruined everything!”
“Mother?” Alisha said in confusion. “What are you doing here?”
The woman turned her fury on the general, who was nearly purple from his contained rage. “You said she was untouched!”
“I said she was unharmed,” the general corrected her, and gave Jack a lethal glare. “Colonel Sparkes, get dressed and report to the brig!”
“Yes, sir.” Sparkes left the bed, grabbed his pants, shirt, and shoes, then disappeared into the bathroom.
The door Alisha’s mother had closed opened with force, and David Brown entered the room looking well-dressed, well-manicured, and well miffed. He glanced around the room in clear disgust, then focused on Alisha, sitting in bed with the sheet pulled up to cover her. “What the hell have you done to your hair?”
Scavenger Vanishes (The SkyRyders Book 3) Page 11
