by Mia Sheridan
* * *
It had taken us longer than we thought it would to jog the distance to our rendezvous point, and we were still about an hour away when the sun started to set in the desert sky. It was the end of October when night temperatures dropped rapidly in Afghanistan. Our breath came out in short white bursts as we hiked quietly, all of us aware of our surroundings, as we were trained to be, but quiet in our own thoughts.
Suddenly, Josh, who was walking in the lead, stopped and held up his hand to indicate we stop as well. We all came to a halt, listening. When none of us heard anything, we moved forward again. A few hundred feet later, Josh halted again and we all halted as well, readying our weapons. We were trained well enough to know that one hunch based on the snapping of a stick in the desert might be dismissed, but two most definitely shouldn't be. We all moved so that our backs were to each other and circled slowly, squinting our eyes to see as far as possible in the darkening distance.
"Shit!" Leland grunted as one shot rang out and his leg buckled and he went down next to me.
The rest was a blur of gunfire, blood, explosions, and pain. So much fucking pain.
I heard someone moaning from faraway and for just a second, I was lucid, the noise exploding back into my brain as I came to and lifted my head from the ground, where somehow I had ended up.
Leland was next to me and I could see that his leg was in bad shape, part of the bone broken and protruding almost straight out of the skin. He was moaning and trying to drag himself toward me.
I went to push myself off the ground and bit my lip to stop myself from screaming out in agony, my hands were covered in blood and blisters, the skin hanging loose in several areas. A surge of adrenalin pulsed through me and I sprung to my feet and hefted Leland under his arms, bearing his weight on my forearms as I dragged him away from the gunfire that was still hitting rocks to the left of us, where I could also hear Eli, Josh and Noah yelling and returning fire. There was too much smoke for me to see what was going on. My job now was to get Leland out of the line of fire. As I moved away, I tripped on something, my body jerking strangely. I struggled to stay upright with Leland's weight in my arms and after a second, kept moving.
Leland grunted in pain as I dragged him with me, my own grunts of exertion mingling with his. I looked behind me and saw a rock big enough that I thought we could both fit behind it, and picked up speed. I rounded the rock a couple seconds later and lay Leland down and collapsed to the right of him, just as a spray of bullets took out a piece of the top of the rock, small pebbles raining down on us as we covered our heads.
Leland looked at me, pale and expressionless and passed out again. I saw more blood coming through his jacket and moved it open with my forearms. Thank God it was unzipped. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I grunted out. He had been shot in the chest too, and the blood was slowly spreading, soaking his shirt underneath. I glanced back down to my mangled hands, so swollen now, they were entirely useless. I leaned over him, putting pressure on the bullet wound with my arms, closing my eyes and picturing the only thing that brought me true calm–the sunrise. In my mind, I pictured it coming up slowly over the horizon, bathing the world around it in light, in hope.
The world swam around me. I heard the sound of a helicopter propeller and more shots rang out, followed by more yelling and another explosion, and then finally, quiet. I looked down. My arms were now entirely drenched in Leland's blood. If he lost much more, he wouldn't survive.
The helicopter landed and I heard footsteps running toward us. "Here," I called out. "He needs a medic." Why did I feel so damn cold and tired? Why did the SEAL kneeling down in front of me look like he was moving further and further back, through a long tunnel? I blinked my eyes, my head feeling heavy on my shoulders. The last thing I heard was, "He's shot too–he's going down." Who? Who was going down? The world went dark.
CHAPTER 20
Three months later, October
Grace
I looked down at the diamond on my finger, smiling a small smile, before picking up the brief that I had been working on.
A small knock sounded at my office door. "Come in!" I called.
The door opened, and Alex came in and shut it behind him. "Hey gorgeous fiancé," he said.
"Hey yourself," I said, smiling, but not getting up.
He came around my chair and put his hands on my shoulders and started massaging them as he leaned down and kissed the top of my head.
"Ahhh," I moaned out. "Don't stop, that feels great."
"You almost done here?" he asked.
I frowned. "Probably not. Another hour?"
"I'll wait. We'll grab a late dinner."
"Okay. I'll come get you when I'm done." I looked back over my shoulder, smiling up at him.
He kissed the top of my head one more time and then headed out the door, closing it behind him.
I glanced back down at my ring again. I was still getting used to seeing it there, as it had only been three days since Alex had proposed.
I leaned back in my chair, thinking of the whirlwind the last three months had been–getting settled in a new job, which I loved, and meeting Alex, my sweet Alex. We had only dated for three months, but as I had told Abby and my sisters, when you know, you know. I was twenty-seven years old. I knew what I wanted. And so when Alex dropped down on one knee during dinner at Joël Robuchon, I had immediately said yes. We hadn't set a date yet, but I was thinking a fall wedding. I looked at my ring for another minute and then I got back to work.
* * *
Carson
I threw back the last of my beer and sat it down on the bar in front of me. Leland, sitting to my right, his crutches propped up on the bar next to him, gestured to the bartender for two more bottles.
The bartender put a finger up. "Hold on, man," he said on a smile.
Leland nodded and looked over at me. "Last time I heard those words, I was on a helicopter spouting blood," he chuckled.
I laughed a humorless laugh. "Yeah. Can't say I remember much of that flight."
We were silent for a minute before the bartender put our bottles in front of us. I nodded thanks.
"So, Carson," Leland said, "have you decided if you're gonna take the medical discharge?" He looked over at me cautiously, taking a sip of his beer.
I closed my eyes for a minute. "I think I'm gonna stay," I said, thinking that I was grateful the Navy had given me the choice. Turned out, the bullet wound to my chest had just missed my heart. A centimeter to the right, and I'd have died on the spot. The burns to my hands had all but healed, except for some slight scarring in several places on my fingers and palms, but the nerve damage would take a lot longer. It would be at least a year before I could be trusted to fire a weapon properly. It'd suck to sit at the base cleaning weapons while all my buddies came and went, but that was the way it went. I had no other option.
Leland hadn't gotten so lucky. The internal injuries from the bullet wounds had been repaired, but his leg was fucked up badly enough that he'd been medically discharged, no choice. At least he hadn't lost it though. He'd always walk with a limp, but he'd walk on his own flesh and bone.
Leland nodded, looking like he was deep in thought. Finally, he looked over at me. "Would you make a different choice if you had a job, something meaningful, to go back to?" he asked.
I furrowed my brow. "I'm not worried about finding a job when I get back. Being a SEAL, having that on my résumé, I figure I could do a lot of things. I'll just have to figure out what. You have all that opportunity too, man."
He nodded. "Thing is, I have a built-in job. My father is gonna want me to run the hotel when I get back. I've been thinking a lot though, these last three months man, and I know you have too." He ran his hand through his dark hair. "Shit, about a lot of things–about you saying we needed to do something, Carson. You were the first one to say that." He was silent for another few beats as I nodded, acknowledging that I had said that, and I had meant it.
"If you'll listen to me, I
might have a job offer you can't refuse," he said quietly.
I chuckled. "Already have my dream job, Leland. You know that."
He studied me for a second. "Not even for Ara?"
I froze. Now he had my attention. Ara. Sweet Ara. He knew I'd do anything for her. All the guys knew it.
"I'm listening," I said quietly, and he started talking.
The Dove
CHAPTER 21
Two months later, December
Grace
I walked into my boss's office and smiled at him as I took a seat in the chair sitting on the other side of his desk.
"Grace," he greeted me on a smile.
Lawrence Stewart was the D.A. in Clark County, a large man with kind eyes and an easy smile. He was fair and generally easy to work for, although he could be a little set in his ways. I hadn't found any reason to go up against him yet, but I knew from observation that I should pick my battles wisely.
"How are you, Larry?" I asked. It's what he had asked me to call him the first day we spoke, during my phone interview.
"Good, good. And you? How's wedding planning?"
I smiled. "We haven't even set a date yet. You know, we work for a slave driver."
He laughed, a big belly laugh. "I could probably spare you both a weekend."
I grinned at him. "Okay, then, we'll get on it."
I had initially been nervous to let people at the office know Alex and I were dating, especially since I was new. But at a company gathering, two months after I started, Larry had come up to me and smiled at me warmly as he said, "Alex is a good kid, I'm glad you've found a friend in him."
After that, we still didn't make a show of the fact that we were dating, but I knew that it wouldn't be frowned upon. The whole office had been happy for us when we'd announced our engagement.
It was easy to work with Alex, even though we were engaged too. We didn't live together yet and so that probably helped, but I thought it would be fine when we saw each other both at the office and at home. Alex was easygoing and calm, very go-with-the-flow. In the courtroom, he came across as the trusted boy next door, and his win record reflected that.
Larry sat back in his chair. "Murder two nights ago, Grace. Police found a young girl shot in the head, left on the side of the road near Red Rock Canyon."
I blanched. I could picture the area. I had been there once upon a time...
"Any evidence found at the scene?" I asked.
"Plenty. Police got a print off a bracelet the victim was wearing. And she was holding a rock with blood on it. They ran the print and it came back to," he picked up a piece of paper off his desk and read the name, "Joshua Garner, twenty-eight. He was recently honorably discharged from the Navy–served as a SEAL for almost ten years, and had just started life as a civilian again. Moved here a couple months ago. No family in the area. When the police went to his address to arrest him, they found that he had a head wound that matched the rock the victim was holding. When they tested it, blood on the rock was a match to Mr. Garner. Not to mention, the bullet in the girl, came from his gun. They arrested him yesterday for murder."
I furrowed my brow and tapped the pen I was using to write down the information he was giving me on the legal pad on my lap. This case sounded about as "full-proof" as you could hope to get as a prosecutor. "Is he talking?"
"No. He lawyered-up right away." So I wouldn't be able to talk to him.
"Place of employment?"
He glanced down at the paper in front of him again. "He works security at the new hotel on the strip, Trilogy."
I knew of it–it was a luxury hotel with three towers. I'd heard it was incredibly lavish. I wrote the name down and then looked back up at him. "Do we know who the girl is?"
He shook his head. "She wasn't carrying any identification and she hasn't shown up in any missing person reports yet. She looks Hispanic, late teens to early twenties. Possibly illegal. All the crime scene photos are in here," he said, tapping the case jacket in front of him.
"Some sort of prostitution thing gone wrong?" I wondered aloud.
"Could be. That was my initial thought too. But no evidence pointing specifically to that right now. No autopsy information yet. What I've told you is about all we know. Now that you're closing up the Montega case, I want you to work this one. Your first homicide–I know you're up for the job. Grand Jury is on Friday."
His phone rang and he glanced at the screen. "I've gotta take this." He slid the case jacket across the desk to me and I picked it up and stood.
I nodded. "Thank you, Larry. I won't let you down." I turned to leave his office.
"I know you won't."
I smiled and nodded again and closed his door behind me.
I walked back to my office and sat down at my computer. I called down to homicide and asked for the lead detective on the case, Detective Powers. She had time to meet with me in a half hour and so I told her I'd be there.
I started turning off my computer and gathering my papers as Alex walked in the door. "How's my beautiful girl? Can I take you to lunch?" he asked, leaning on my desk and smiling at me.
"I wish. I thought I had an easy wrap up day. But I just got a new case and I've gotta get moving on it. Larry gave me my first homicide." It didn't seem right to be overly happy about it, after all, a young woman had died. But I was excited that Larry thought I was competent enough to handle it. I had held my own with many felony cases so far, but this was the first one that involved a murder.
Alex raised his eyebrows. "I'm not surprised. You're an amazing lawyer. I'm gonna be wrapped up with clients tonight, but dinner tomorrow night and you can catch me up?"
I stood up, putting my arms around his neck and looking up into his kind eyes. "Sounds great," I said.
He kissed me quickly on my forehead and let me go, whistling a catcall as he walked behind me toward my door. I laughed and grabbed my purse and coat hanging on a coat rack and blew a kiss over my shoulder as I headed to the stairs.
I got in my car, a white Honda Accord, and made my way to police headquarters where I sat down with Detective Powers and went over the details of the case to make sure our testimonies were ready for Grand Jury. I blanched as I looked at the pictures of the dead girl again, a bullet hole straight through her forehead. I had seen violent crime scene photos before, but this time, I felt a fierce responsibility sweep over me. It was my job to get justice for this girl. A lump formed in my throat as I took in the horrific details. No one's life should ever end that way.
"If you ever get used to seeing that kind of thing, it's time to retire," Detective Powers said with a bit of humor in her voice. But her eyes said she was completely serious. I liked her. She was about forty with short blond hair and pretty features. She was direct but kind.
I smiled a small smile at her. "I agree. Makes it that much worse that she's so young," I said quietly, closing the file and pushing it away from me.
"Detective, do–"
"Please, call me Kate," she said, smiling warmly.
"Okay, Kate," I smiled, "do you have any ideas about a motive here?"
"Not yet. But I do have a couple people to follow up with that have proven hard to pin down so far. They may be helpful in shedding light on Mr. Garner's state of mind, among other things."
I nodded. "Well, it looks like we have plenty to present to Grand Jury on Friday. I don't see any problem getting an indictment."
"No, there won't be a problem. If you have any questions, give me a call, but otherwise, I think we're in sync. I'll see you at the courthouse?"
"Yes, sounds good. Thanks for meeting with me today. I know you have a busy schedule."
"Not a problem."
We both stood and shook hands and she walked me to the door. I thanked her again and headed back to my office. I had two days to prepare for Grand Jury.
* * *
Carson
I walked into Leland's office and closed the door quietly behind me. He was on the phone, but when he saw me,
he told whomever he was talking to that he needed to go.
I sat down in the chair across from him and leaned my elbows on my knees, running my hand over my hair, which I had kept short even after leaving the Navy.
"Anything?" Leland asked, looking at me warily.
I shook my head, my jaw tensing. "No. Not a damn thing."
Leland paused. "Okay. But you're agreed that we can't visit him. It's too risky. And even if we sent someone else in there, everything's recorded. Josh couldn't talk anyway."
I let out a frustrated sigh. "I know. We'll just have to wait until bail is set. Fuck! We've always been like a well-oiled machine. How did this happen?"
Leland frowned, drumming his pen on his desk. I knew that if anything happened to Josh, hell, any of us, Leland was going to take it the hardest. He had presented this operation to us in the first place.
"Fuck is right," he mumbled, looking out the window at the mid-day Vegas skyline.
I let out a breath and sat back in my chair. "Leland, this is a bad situation, about as bad as it fucking gets, but we knew the risk going in."
He took a deep breath, moving his eyes back to me. "Yeah." After a minute he continued. "Josh has gotta know we went back in for him, right?"
"Fuck yeah. He knows the motto. Hell, we've proven it enough times over the years." I paused. "Yeah, he knows."
Leland pursed his lips, still drumming his pen. "Okay, what's next?"
"Well, the operation halts, obviously. We keep a low profile. We can't be seen together. We keep trying to pinpoint Bakos' location because there's no one else who could be responsible. And we do it before he starts putting the pieces together and we all have targets on our backs."
Leland studied me. "Well why didn't you say it was a fucking cake walk? Shit, is that all?" He laughed a humorless laugh.
I chuckled. "Yeah, it's in the bag."
We were both quiet for a minute. "Any idea why he'd set Josh up like that rather than just shooting him in the head?"
