“So if Harper isn’t in there, who is?”
“A couple of members of a well know terrorist organization, waiting for the go ahead to blow up this entire fucking block.” My heart skips a beat as what Blaze is telling me finally sets in. I had been seconds away from killing us all.
“I called in an ATF friend of mine who is on his way with a team of experts to safely defuse the situation. Meanwhile, we have got to get the fuck out of here before Ecnal catches on to what we know.”
We pass Blaze's friends as we hauled ass to the Port. I know this is difficult for him as not only is his baby sister involved, but he lives for blowing shit up. Creating big fires out of tiny little things earned him his nickname.
Security at the Port is a huge joke, the guard waving us by without looking up. “There, by the crane.” Blaze pointed at a group of containers stacked four high. One on the lower level caught my attention, the markings on the side not making sense. The arm of the crane was in the process of moving the container to the waiting ship. The one scheduled to leave in an hour if this intel was correct.
Reaper pulled his truck around the back, giving us the advantage in case Ecnal had cameras trained in our direction. While we suspected he had guns and ammunition inside, we also had Keys confirming there were two humans in the container.
“Blaze, you’ll position yourself beside the crane, ready to take out the operator if he’s on Ecnal’s payroll. Reaper, I want you as hidden as possible, but with a clear shot to take him out if he gets past me.” On the ride over, we all agreed this was personal, a vendetta he needed me to pay. He had planned on using my emotions against me, and it would have worked if Blaze hadn’t been in the position of Harper’s protector since her birth.
Maneuvering around the containers, I could hear the sound of a man laughing. As I grew closer to the container, I knew it was Ecnal inside. “Did you see that, Harper? Your boyfriend charged in there like the idiot I knew he was and now he’s in a million teeny-tiny pieces.” As his laughter faded, I could hear the sobs of Harper loud and clear. His delight in her misery carried the stamp of a sick individual, and it was time he was taken out.
Not giving a shit if he heard me, I pulled the metal doors open, rust falling around me acting as a lubricant to quiet my invasion. Ecnal stood over a crying Harper, his hands in the air in triumph as he watched the fire trucks extinguish the flames on his monitor. Too bad for him it was all bullshit. Keys had located his feed and interrupted it, giving him a slice of action from a movie that didn’t make it past the cutting room floor. Aiming my gun at his pathetic head, I waited until he turned around before I put my finger on the trigger. His face fell as realized his plan had backfired, all his efforts and secrecy for nothing.
“You touched something of mine. Worse than that, you made her think I was dead and made her cry.”
Ecnal looked from the barrel of my gun to the action on the monitor, his eyes and gaping mouth not believing what he was seeing.
”I told you earlier I was going to find you and let you see what happens when you fuck with what is mine.”
Ecnal reached for his gun, but he was too late. I'd left the doors wide open giving Reaper a clean shot. Ecnal cried out in pain as he dropped his gun to the floor. Reaper knew I needed to handle things, his shot taking off his hand, but leaving his life for me to take.
“Harper, come here, baby.”
Holding my arm out for her, I needed to feel her and know she was okay. Harper jumped from the chair, knocking it over in the process, rounding my body and tucking herself safely behind me.
“Did he hurt you?” I questioned loud enough for Ecnal, and my men outside, to hear, giving Blaze the go-ahead to create a diversion.
“No, just scared me.” I could feel her body shaking as she pressed against me.
“Close enough, motherfucker. Say hello to Aarash when you make it to hell.” Shielding Harper’s eyes, I unloaded my magazine into Ecnal’s chest. His body jerked and spun several times as my bullets hit their target. As the last shell casing landed on the metal floor, Ecnal lay dead against the far wall.
“Harper?” Turning my eyes from Ecnal’s dead ones to the beautiful face of the woman I would do anything for. Holstering my empty gun, I frame her face with my hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think to have him run through the proper channels. Are you okay?”
Her face is covered in dirt and dust, the side effects from the distraction created by her brother outside. My adrenalin ran so hot I missed the firestorm, which shook this container to its metal fillings. Blaze created a blast so severe it buckled the walls, causing the monitors to crash to the floor, scattering glass and plastic at our feet.
“I’m okay. A little shaken, but I’ll live.” Licking her lips, her eyes drift closed as she collects her thoughts. “None of this is your fault. Ecnal, Alex, they were grown men who made choices.”
“I know, but if I would have gotten to Alex sooner, you would be happily married with a ton of kids.”
“Maybe,” she shrugs. “But I wouldn’t have met you, or had the time I needed to become the woman I am today.” Pulling my face down to her level, “A wise man once told me how time has a way of making us forget the bad in the people we love. I made Alex into a superhero, with standards even he couldn’t meet if he were still alive. He’s always going to have a place in my heart, be a part of who I am. But—”
Searching her face, I knew I was about to go mad as she considered her final thought. I could feel my heart hammering like a war drum, every beat on the edge of a sword. Harper had become my world, the reason I woke up and tried as hard as I did. Without her, my life was destined to be lonely.
“You’re my future.”
Lips crashed in a hurried craze, bodies pulled together so tightly the lines of where one began, and the other ended blurred until we were one. Tongues caressed each other in a desperate game of cat and mouse, chasing after the other, and then starting again.
“Come on,” I panted, not ready to stop loving her, but the creaking of the weakened metal told me we needed to get the fuck out of here. “Let’s get you home.”
Exiting the container, ash floated in the air around us. Reaper stood just outside the door acting as sentry to anyone who dared ruin our moment. Blaze stood off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest, the look of a happy man on his face. The crane, which had been transferring containers to the waiting ship, was now on its side, the operator nowhere to be seen. Black smoke billowed from what was left of the top row of containers. The bottom of the stack, vibrating as smoke and dust swirled through the cracks, announcing the collapse of the structure.
“I leave you alone for a minute and this is what you get yourself into.” Chief stood off to the side, his hands on his hips, a triumphant look on his face.
“Took you long enough.”
“Someone has to be on cleanup.”
Closing the distance between us, his hand outstretched in Harper's direction. I felt her get close to me as he approached. “Harper Kincaid, I’d recognize your beautiful face anywhere. A pleasure to meet you, I’m Aiden Sawyer, or as these losers know me, Chief.”
“Please to meet you, Aiden. Or do you prefer Chief?”
“I’d prefer dinner with you, but I’m fairly sure this motherfucker will slit my throat if I tried.” Harper’s eyes grew large as she received her first dose of an unfiltered Aiden.
“Ignore him, Harper. He’s been trying to compensate for a small penis for years.” Pulling her close, I place a kiss on the top of her head.
“Ghost filled me in on what happened.” Motioning to the smoldering debris behind us, tiny flakes of ash falling into his dark hair. “Aarash and Aaron had a little brother, huh? Never saw that one coming.” He laughed humorlessly, his eyes trained on the scene behind us.
“He said he had associates, relationships he has been forming since he quit helping Aaron.” Harper pulled back, her arms remaining wrapped around my waist. Her worried eyes drifting bac
k and forth between mine.
“Don’t worry, Harper. Mad men are schoolyard bullies who finally got chest hair and a deep voice. They still find pleasure in torturing the weak. We know how to handle bullies, hell, its what we live for.”
As we drove back to pick up my Jeep, I couldn’t keep my mind focused on the conversation going on around me. According to Harper, Ecnal had been sent to the States to help his brother Aaron, but with what? As far as we knew, Aaron was the more refined brother. His interests leaned toward having a perfect manicure and away from growing dope. Had Ecnal been the mastermind behind the family, or was he trying to fit into his big brother's shoes?
“What do you think, Logan?”
Shaking my head from my mental ramblings, I turn to see Harper sitting beside me looking at me through questioning eyes.
“I’m sorry, baby, I was daydreaming. What did you ask me?” Harper had a smile that could light up a city block, one she bestowed on me at regular intervals.
“Ross and I were discussing how now Aarash and Ecnal are dead and can't hurt anyone anymore, the government could lower the terror threat to a lower level. Would you agree?”
Harper lived in a world where she had no real understanding of the threats surrounding her. As the man who loved her and knew the warning signs, it was my job to protect her, keeping her ignorant of the evil all around her. Reaper hadn’t been mentioned in this conversation, and as I glanced in the rear-view mirror, I caught his eye, sharing a knowing look with him.
“I think this has just begun.”
Epilogue
“Hey, man. When are you going to put a ring on that girl's finger?” Zach touched the tip of his bottle to mine, his face covered in postnuptial bliss.
“Not today, but hopefully soon.”
Harper had been leery of attending Zach and Kennedy's wedding with me, worried another bomb would fall from the sky like the last time.
“Listen,” he leaned in, attempting to speak in hushed tones over the music in the room. “She has accepted what we do, knows how this lifestyle works and has a good head on her shoulders. I wouldn’t wait too long, man.”
I heard stories of how Zach had to keep things from Kennedy, how he disappeared for hours and even days with no real justification. At first, it put a wedge between them, but once he was certain about her, they talked and here we are at their wedding.
“Harper isn’t going anywhere. And I want to be done with the Navy before I jump into a marriage.”
Ross confided in me how Harper swore she would never marry a man in the military given the way Alex had died. It was important to me she keep the promises she made to herself, even if it meant I wouldn’t be in Zach’s position for a while.
“You got what, four months?
“One hundred and twelve days.”
“But who’s counting?” We said in unison, chuckling and tapping our bottles together again.
The music changed, and the DJ made some comment as to the elderly lady in front being a hot momma with her dancing skills. A new song started, and the tiny women got back into her groove.
“Honey, come dance with me.”
Kennedy Forrester-Michaels, the beautiful new bride and keeper of Zach’s balls, called from the edge of the dance floor. Her white dress glittering from the candlelight around us, the back tied up in one of those bustles and the hem nearly black from being dragged along the dance floor. Given the smile on her face, she didn’t give two shits about the dress, except how quickly Zach would be able to get her out of it.
“Duty calls.” Handing me his beer, he joins his bride without another word.
Tipping my bottle back and draining the remaining beer as I scanned the room for Harper. We had spent the last four days here in Atlanta, taking in the sites and enjoying one another’s company. Kennedy and Harper became best friends in the time it took us to get drinks the first night we arrived. They both enjoyed charity work, Kennedy with her horses and Harper with her clothes. They had made plans for Kennedy to come to Virginia and spend some time in the city.
“Logan, have you spoken with Matthew?”
Aiden took the spot Zach vacated. He had come down the same time as we did, enjoying the area and a few of the female flavors. Aiden had a thing for Southern women, the way they could insult the fuck out of you and make you ask for more. I had to agree with him, Harper had a hell of a twang when she was tired.
“I haven’t seen him tonight. Did he come to the wedding?”
“He showed up close to the end, stood in the back as Zach carried Kennedy back down the aisle.” Kennedy and Zach both came from influential families. As a man who was also raised in a privileged home, I understand the need to break society’s rules every once in awhile. Zach didn’t wait until the kiss was over before he scooped Kennedy up and carried her at a jog down the aisle, leaving a lot of stuffed shirts wagging their tongues at him.
“He’s been sitting at the bar since the reception started, tossing back Wild Turkey.”
When you depend on another person the way we have all these years, you learn when they are doing good and when they are trying to numb something. Matthew Parrish was a silent but deadly individual, who only drank the hard shit when he wanted to either start a fight or pass out. By the way Aiden described it, Matthew was self-medicating whatever is bothering him.
“You’re the doctor, Logan. He’ll listen to you long before he will any of us.” Aiden was right, it was my duty to check on him, to see if I could help him figure shit out or get him the help he needed.
“You guys see Matthew?” Ryan made his way out of the crowd, motioning over his shoulder at the bar behind him.
“We were just talking about him.” I went to leave when Ryan grabbed my arm, his eyes full of worry.
“You should know, he came without Rayne and his face is covered in two days growth.”
Crossing the packed room, Zach and Kennedy must have invited the entire city of Atlanta to this thing, you couldn’t take two steps without bumping into someone. Harper caught my eye as she danced with a girl I didn’t know on the dance floor. I waved to her and pointed to the bar, letting her know where to find me.
Matthew Parrish was not an easy man to hide. Although, if he didn’t want to be seen by his target, he had the skills to make it happen. He occupied the last seat on the far end, shoulders hunched over and his hands wrapped around a highball glass.
“Motherfucker, don’t you know Zach is rolling in fucking money. You ain’t got to drink the cheap shit.”
Matthew’s attention never left his glass as he greeted me in the most broken voice I’d ever heard.
“Logan.”
Taking the seat beside him, ordering a new beer for myself, I kept my focus forward so as not to crowd him. “Want to tell me what’s so bad it warrants a nasty hangover tomorrow?”
Matthew huffed as he raised his glass to his lips, draining the amber liquid as the ice cubes clinked in the glass. “I fucked up, Logan.” Turning his head in my direction, turmoil rolling off him as sadness clouded his eyes.
“Must be bad if Wild Turkey is involved.”
Matthew motioned for the bartender to refill his glass, the young man behind the bar flashing me a look. I motioned for him to go ahead and fill the glass. His speech was still understandable, and he looked too tired to start a fight.
“Worst thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
“This I have to hear if it beats Kosovo.”
Three years ago we tracked a group of arms dealers to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Kosovo. It was the middle of the night when we found them and had to clear a barb-wired fence to get into the warehouse. The night was so dark we couldn’t see a fucking thing. Matthew found a hole in the fence we could crawl under, but there was this stench all around. One by one, we got down in the sludge like stuff. I assumed it was old wastewater from the factory, but it turns out it was what was left of the victims these guys had killed. They had tried to melt their flesh by wrapp
ing them in plastic sheets and tossing the corpses into a sauna. After we had bathed in bleach, we all agreed this was the worst condition we had ever faced.
“You remember Tombstone and the time he spent in the hospital in Germany?”
“Yeah, his wife couldn’t be contacted. When he got home, she had taken off with the kids.”
Matthew nodded his head. “I found her and the new fuck buddy in an abandoned hotel in Arizona. She was prostituting herself while he took all the money they had and injected it into his fucking veins. Those kids saw it all and were practically starved to death.”
“Okay, but it doesn’t explain why you’re drinking the way you are. You’ve seen worse than that. So what gives and what’s with the beard?” After Matthew got out of the military, he found a girl who shifted his world. Her name was Rayne, and she pulled him out of the shell his ex-fiancé put him in. For the longest time, he hid the scar on his face behind his beard. Rayne changed all that, made him comfortable in his own skin.
“Tombstone’s little girl was afraid of me, screamed like hell when I picked her up. She saw this fucking scare on my face and it terrified her—a little girl.” He shook his head, defeat written all over his face.
“When I got back to Charleston, I couldn’t get the little girl's face out of my head, and it got me to thinking. How in the hell would I feel if it was mine and Rayne’s baby? I couldn’t stand hurting an innocent child, especially one I helped bring into this world. So I broke things off with Rayne.”
“You did what?” I shouted, a bit too loud as the entire bar area looked in our direction. Matthew held up his hand to stop me, letting me know he wasn’t finished.
“After I said some horrible things to her, Tombstone called me up to thank me and let me know his daughter, Macy, had drawn me a picture to say she was sorry for how she acted. He said his ex-wife told the kids if they said anything to the authorities, she would send in a big man to take them to the desert and eat them. She assumed I was the monster from her dreams.”
Operation SEAL: Book Two Trident Brotherhood Series Page 31
