Chapter Seventeen
Logan
“Lieutenant Oxford, you stand accused of fraternization with a lower ranking member of your chain of command. How do you plead?”
Oxford stood with his head held high, eyes focused forward and a blank look on his face. After Goodman had been sentenced, she wasted no time giving details about their relationship, sighting days and times where they had sex during their shared shifts, and on more than one occasion, included another staff member in their activities.
“Guilty, sir.”
I wanted to scoff at him as I knew he stood there, smug instead of sincere. His guilty admission the only path he could choose as the other nurse who had been involved, gave birth to a little girl a month ago, DNA confirmed ninety-nine point nine percent likelihood Oxford was the father of the baby. Bastard didn’t need to open his mouth to admit his guilt.
“Are there any character witnesses here on your behalf?”
Keeping my eyes on Oxford as no one in their right mind would stand up for the dirty bastard. There had been an overwhelming sigh of relief when word got out Oxford had been busted.
Our CO didn’t believe in closed-door hearings, a bonus which was taken advantage of by the standing room only crowd. When enough time had passed, giving anyone in attendance an opportunity to speak, the CO handed down his ruling, ending the career of Lieutenant Oxford.
“Is this going to affect your leaving here?”
Kincaid leaned over in my direction. He hadn’t wasted a second since getting off the plane, handing in his separation request, turning down a decent size reenlistment bonus in the process.
“No,” mimicking his sideways lean, using my fingers to muffle my answer. Gossip was worth more than gold bars around here, partial truths spreading like wildfires, searching for a listening ear and a wagging tongue. “I dare any motherfucker to stand up to Senator Green.”
The same day Kincaid came back, the CO came stomping into the hospital, slamming my new orders on the empty exam table. His face was a red as a beet, the veins in his neck so distended a blind man could see them.
For twenty minutes he threatened to call Washington and have my ass in front of a review board for blackmailing a Senator into helping me. I stood to my full height, six inches further than he stood, and let him know anytime he wanted to contact my friends in Washington, I had a long list for him to chose from.
“Have you told Harper the news?”
Shifting in my seat as the CO slammed his gavel against the wood of his desk, dismissing the proceedings. I wanted nothing more than to call her and tell her the good news. In eight weeks I would be allowed to serve my remaining five months as a physician in one of the branch clinics in Norfolk, Virginia. A mere thirty-minute drive from Harper's shop and the new gym I was partnering with Kincaid on. I nearly called her when I got the confirmation I was going to Virginia, but I wanted to surprise her, and I was using Josh to help me with my plan.
“No, and neither will you.”
“You have no worries here, but I want to go on record stating I advised you to tell her and not do whatever those gears in your fucking head are telling you to.”
Twisting his index finger in a circular motion next to his temple, wearing a Cheshire grin on his freshly shaved face.
“Whatever,” I brush him off, the anxiety of it all mounting inside my head. “I have a plan, one I know will work out in the end. I have my attorney, Josh, working on some things for me, and he’s sending the paperwork for the incorporation, it should be here tomorrow.” Kincaid and I came to an agreement in the partnership of our gym. He had a friend of his who was a personal trainer, looking for a new gym to bring his clients to. Kincaid was scheduled to leave the military three weeks after I left for Virginia, and he would run the operation until my time had been paid back.
“Well,” Kincaid paused as he rose from his chair, pushing his palms against the tops of his knees. “I speak from experience when I tell you Harper will be pissed when she sees you and is unprepared. But go ahead, do whatever you're thinking.” Ducking his head down slightly, the curl of a smile forming on the edges of his lips.
“Better make sure to have a backup plan of where you will sleep that night, and save me a spot, as Amanda will be just as pissed since I haven’t told her our plans either.”
I had to check in on a patient, but didn’t want to get anything on my uniform, having made that mistake once already. Years ago, I’d attended a change of command before beginning a shift, as I was leaving the parking lot, a group gathered around one of the active duty who was in attendance. He had been pre-gaming a bit excessively, tripping in his drunken haze and cracking his head open on the side of his car. By the time I got to him, blood was everywhere and the concussion he suffered caused him to vomit all over me.
As I closed my door behind me, I automatically looked at my computer screen out of habit to see if I had any new mail. My breath hitched when I noticed I had not one, but two pieces of mail waiting for me. Ignoring my need to change and get to the hospital, I slid into my chair, clicking the envelope on my screen.
TO: Logan.Forbes.LT@ OPS
FROM: Sawyer, A@ Gmail
CC:
SUBJECT: Answer to your question
Logan,
So I found the guy you asked me about, Lance Ranoka. I followed him around Chesapeake today, as he went from delivery to delivery until about one this afternoon when he pulled into one of the ugliest apartment buildings I have ever seen. This thing would scare the shit out of any street thug and make him run home to his momma. After what I assumed was his lunch break, he jumps back into the delivery truck and heads to a storage unit where he trades the delivery truck for the sweetest looking Audi I’ve ever seen. He proceeded to drive around, and I assumed he spotted me tailing him, but I stayed on him as he pulled up across the street from your girl's shop.
He sat in his car for at least thirty minutes before a delivery truck pulled up, and the guy took in an armful of flowers. This Lance kid planted his ass on the hood of his car and watched Harper refuse the flowers and ignore the bastard. After I was sure Harper was busy with a customer, I went over and relayed your message to him.
Logan, I don’t know what it is, but this guy is weird, like there is a screw loose or something, because as I'm telling him to stay away from her, he pulls out a fucking joint and starts smoking the thing in the middle of the street. I called Austin Morgan and had him run this guy's information through his sources. He called me back and said Lance has a record, paid cash for the Audi and has a number of storage rentals in his name.
I don’t know, Logan. This all seems too odd for me, and I can’t shake the feeling we haven’t scratched the surface when it comes to Lance Ranoka.
Aiden
Ten seconds after I got off the phone with Kincaid, I called Aiden, waking him out of a sound sleep. I apologized, but by the feminine laughter in the background, he wasn’t too pissed at me. Rachel, the nurse from the medical convoy we assisted with, had called him a few minutes after he landed in the States, having reconsidered spending a weekend alone with him. He picked her up from the airport and they hadn’t seen the light of day since he pulled into one of the hotels close by. With Aiden confirming the unease I felt from the news of Lance still stalking Harper, I knew I needed to act fast. Do everything I could to protect her.
TO: Logan.Forbes.LT@ OPS
FROM: Sawyer, A@ Gmail
CC:
SUBJECT: Sorry for the cockblock.
Aiden,
Thanks for getting back to me so soon, and I again apologize for pulling you away from more pressing matters. I cannot tell you how much this Lance guy makes my skin crawl, the muscles in the back of my neck scream for me to get out of this fucking desert and beside Harper. I worry now that she is alone as Kincaid is back here with me, almost to the point where I want to hire some form of protection for her. Tell me, Chief, you busy for the next few weeks? Or are you and Rachel still wrapped up t
ight as a pretzel?
This is hard for me to admit, especially to you, but I broke down and called a family friend, Senator Green. I know I swore I would finish my time here and do the right thing by Uncle Sam, but when they wanted to send me across the country to Twenty-Nine Palms, I couldn’t do it. I can't be so close to her, and yet so far. Now before you threaten me, I asked for a change of duty station, not an early out of my contract. So in a few weeks, I’ll be on my way to Norfolk, Virginia, where I will once again have a cakewalk of nine to five and holidays off. The best part, and the one, which is making this all worthwhile, Norfolk is a short distance from Chesapeake and my Harper.
Let me know if you’re up to the challenge of watching over my girl. See you as soon as I get back to the States. The first round is on me.
Logan
Clicking on the second email, disappointment flooding me as it is from my realtor and not Harper.
TO: Logan .Forbes.LT@ OPS
FROM: Cutter, Violet @yournewhome
CC:
SUBJECT: Good news, I have a number of properties to show you.
Lieutenant Forbes,
As a proud supporter of our armed forces, I would like to thank you for your service and for choosing Your New Home Realty in assisting you with finding your new home. Given your healthy price range and all cash ability, finding you the perfect home will be effortless. In speaking with your attorney, Josh Houston, I have selected a wide range of options for you: from the southern charm, plantation home, to the more New York City Fifth Avenue style, with clean lines and polished surfaces. Attached you will find several homes in the area, with a number of useful photos and videos of the properties currently available.
I look forward to conversing with you and answering any questions you may have. Please do not hesitate to contact me in regards to the homes I have sent you.
Violet Cutter
I had sworn Josh to secrecy, if my mother found out I was buying a home in Virginia, she would be on the family jet to purchase one right beside me. She and I shared the belief Harper was my one, that mythical connection you read about in the books my aunt was famous for. Harper took my breath away, in how she carried herself and her generosity with others. But it was her blue eyes, like two tractor beams, digging into my soul and haunting me.
Instead of looking through the photos my realtor sent me, feeling wrong in choosing a home without Harper's input. I wanted her for all the new milestones of my life, everything I had yet to experience as a civilian. Clicking on the Skype icon, hovering over the connect button as the butterflies danced in my stomach. I'd never been apprehensive when it came to women. If I wanted a particular girl, I went after her, but Harper was different. She didn’t bend to my way of thinking, available for my pleasure when I demanded. No, Harper challenged me, made me evaluate the person I am and made me remember what is was like to give a shit again.
“Attention all staff, Lieutenant Forbes you are needed in the trauma staging area, I repeat. Attention all staff, Lieutenant Forbes you are needed in the trauma staging area.”
My heart dropped as the adrenaline rose in my bloodstream. Slamming the lid closed on my laptop, I took off at a run toward the trauma tent. Memories of the last time I had been paged like this flooding my mind, those of a much younger man with new skills I couldn’t wait to use. A coveted title, and an ego to match, I assumed I was the greatest doctor on the planet. I know better now, all the skill in the world can’t cheat death when he has come to collect.
The scene is organized chaos when I step inside the room, a pair of marines stand off in the corner, their sweat covered, horror filled faces look back at me. One of my corpsman stands over the patient, his arms locked as he performs chest compressions on the patient.
“Report,” I command, unable to see around one of the staff nurses who is hanging an IV bag overhead.
“Sir, twenty-two-year-old male. Stabbed multiple times in the chest and back. No pulse or respiration since his arrival.”
Moving to the end of the bed, my mind flashes to when Viper had been stabbed by a local during a rescue mission last year. Terror filled my chest as I took in the ashen face of the man lying on the bed. His bare chest, EKG leads scattered around, as my eyes move to the monitor out of habit. Ramsey has no heartbeat, nothing keeping his brain alive sans the chest compressions.
“How long has he been down?”
Rounding the table to examine him, I borrow the stethoscope dangling from the nurse’s neck.
“Fifteen minutes.”
One of the marines answers and I dart my eyes in his direction then back to Ramsey’s lifeless body. I can’t take the sadness in his eyes, the expectation the marine has for me to make him come back to life.
After forty minutes of throwing everything I had at him, “Time of death nine-seventeen.” Tossing my gloves on the floor, needing to escape the somber mood in the room. I needed to be angry, hold onto the fire to keep from letting my inner emotions show. But as I hit the bright sunlight, I come face to face with the Captain, his arms crossed and a face which matches my insides, sad and falling apart. Several inches separate us, but no words are needed to convey what has happened.
“Beckman.”
“Sir?”
“Let the staff know we are in River City.”
Beckman, his assistant, scurries off to make the announcement and shut off our communication. Nothing would go in or out until Ramsey’s family had been notified.
“Forbes, come with me.”
Captain turns in the direction Beckman ran off to, not allowing me anytime to refuse. I'd pissed him off enough when he learned I called Senator Green behind his back, so I wordlessly followed his lead, staying a few paces behind him. Word of Ramsey’s death will spread quickly through camp, questions as to why the woman who stabbed him was allowed to get so close will create more paperwork and training, a knee-jerk reaction from the powers that be. Before his body is released to the family, I’ll have to sit down and sign his death certificate, something I can't handle doing today.
“Close the door, Forbes.”
Captain sits hard in his chair, tossing his cover on the credenza behind him, the weight of the situation taking its toll on his face. With his head in his hands, something not normally shown by a man in his position, he looks in my direction as he slides a folded sheet of paper across the desk toward me.
“This was in my email this morning.”
I stare at the sheet of paper, my heart in my throat as to what the transcribed ink will tell me. Will it separate me further from Harper, sending me into some remote jungle time has forgotten? Swallowing down the dread lodged in my throat, lifting the paper from his desk, one final breath taken in and held before my fate is sealed.
“I sent word to his LPO for him to come see me when his watch was over.”
Captain looks out his window, the glass dirty from the constant wind which coats everything with the tiny particles it picks up as it passes by.
“I wanted to tell him myself, be the first to congratulate him on getting into the program.”
In all the years since I had received the same news, the wording hadn’t changed. I recall the relief I felt as I read the words over and over, unable to believe I was going to do something good for a change. Ramsey had worked so hard, conditioning every day, getting his mind in the right place.
“His brother is in prison, the same one his father died in. I’ll have to call the Red Cross, see if they have any can give him a proper burial.”
Ramsey told me of his family, the way his brother picked on him when he wouldn’t follow him into a life of crime. Their father had been in and out of prison most of their lives, finding it impossible to do any legal work to support his family. He died in a riot, a few days before Ramsey graduated high school. His mother passed not long after, giving into the demons she found at the bottom of her bottle of cheap booze. Ramsey had been accepted to BUD/S, and I know my team would agree, he would have excelled and made a
hell of a SEAL. In my eyes, he already was.
“Don’t call the Red Cross. I'll handle getting him back to Arlington and a hero’s burial.”
Chapter Eighteen
Harper
I had a meeting with the contractor to do the final walk through at Horizons. It never ceased to amaze me what waving money in people's faces managed to accomplish. When Meredith had the contracts signed, she had Josh put in a clause which stipulated for every day the crew went beyond the completion date, there would be a thousand dollar fine. If they finished early, and with quality work, they would receive a thousand dollar bonus per day.
Horizons was ready, all we needed was to move the clothing from the storage unit and onto the empty racks. Meredith had been in hyper drive planning a ceremony for the grand opening.
Everyone who was anyone wanted to be a part of this event, have their name grace the lips of one of the countries more generous families. The Mayor went as far as refilling the flower boxes, using a more reliable and hearty flower than what Mona had deemed appropriate. He even used his own money, something I believe he did to impress Meredith, rather than make the street beautiful.
My focus was slightly different. Although I wanted the event to go well, I hadn’t heard anything from Logan in a week. I'd sent him three emails, all going unanswered, the only thing keeping me sane in all of this was how Ross hadn’t contacted Amanda either. In the past when this happened, it was due to an emergency where they had to cut communications. We had been encouraged to continue emailing, as they would be welcomed when the ban was lifted.
It had rained last night, leaving my usual parking spot looking more like a lake and less like a free space. Having worn open toed shoes, I opted to park in front of my shop. Glancing at the exterior of the building as I shut off the engine, I spotted a young woman dressed in a conservative patchwork skirt, with a coordinating pale blue sweater. Her long, dark hair lay straight as a board against her back. Traces of sunlight, peeking through the leaves sparkled off the metal hair clip that held part of her hair back. She didn’t flinch or move as I shut my car door, her focus remaining on the wedding dress in my display window.
Operation SEAL: Book Two Trident Brotherhood Series Page 18
