Agent Undone

by Cassidy Reyne

  Carter’s shoulders sagged with exhaustion. Another effect of the long flight home. Transport planes weren’t the most comfortable ways of traveling, and he still wasn’t sure why they hadn’t just put him on a normal flight. Maybe it was the medical team flying back with him that for some reason couldn’t fly commercial. It had been nice, though, to have his own doc looking after him all the way back. Not that he needed it, but the painkillers the guy had given him had made things easier, that was for damn sure. He had a few vague memories of the medic hooking him up to some monitor or other, but the medication had made his brain a bit foggy, so he’d probably imagined it.

  Nate drove his big SUV back from the airport to Virginia Beach. Carter sat in the passenger seat and fought the tiredness that threatened to engulf him. He didn’t want to sleep right now that he was finally home, and wanted to enjoy it while he could. Knowing DK, the boss would soon find another assignment for him to disappear into before his boots were even off his feet.

  “You asleep, buddy?” Nate’s voice broke through his rambling thoughts.

  “Nah, just relaxing. How have you been? How long have you been back home? Sorry I couldn’t keep in touch after I got dragged to that hospital. Completely unnecessary if you ask me.” Carter raked his hands down his face and rubbed his jaw trying to get his brain to wake up. He was sick to death of this exhaustion and couldn’t wait till he was back to normal. Why the fuck did a short assignment in a jungle make him feel so crappy? Ok, so he wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been away. He hadn’t even thought to ask in his haste to get back home. His recollection of the whole op was a bit foggy as well, but that was just the heat and exhaustion plus a few days in the hospital with a fucking fever. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been sick, so he’d just assumed what he was feeling was normal after being ill for a few days.

  Traffic was light, so it didn’t take long for them to reach Carter’s house by the beach. As Nate pulled into the driveway, Carter stared at his clapboard house as if he was seeing it for the first time. Everything looked in order and he assumed his parents had been looking after it while he was away. A lot of sand had blown across the driveway, so they must have had high winds in the last few weeks. As he sat there looking at it, he got a sense of abandonment and dereliction, as if the building had stood empty for generations with only minimal maintenance. He straightened in his seat and shook his head at the morose turn his thoughts had taken. He hadn’t been away that long, and the house looked perfectly normal. He got out of the car, surprised to see Nate had already picked up his bag from the backseat and was holding a set of keys in his hand.

  “Your mom gave me a spare set. She wasn’t sure you’d have yours with you, and she didn’t want you to have problems getting in.” Nate watched him with a thoughtful expression.

  “Huh. That’s weird, she’s never done that before. Why did she think I wouldn’t have my keys?” Carter dug through his duffel bag to find his keychain but came up empty handed. “That’s odd. I always keep my keys in my bag and it always stays with command, just like everyone else’s.” Carter frowned, trying to remember if he’d put them somewhere different this time. Nate jingled the keys in his hand and held them out for Carter to take.

  “Come on, let’s get inside. You can look for your set later.”

  Carter grabbed the keys and opened the front door. The air inside felt fresh and clean, so his mom must have been there earlier in the day to let the breeze through. He dumped the bag in the hallway and went into the kitchen. Out of habit, he opened the fridge, expecting it to be empty of anything but a few jars of out of date pickles and bottles of ketchup and chili sauce. To his surprise, it was fully stocked and even had a six pack of beer stashed on the bottom shelf.

  “Your mom and Emma were here this morning to fill up on some groceries for you. They didn’t think you’d want to do a supermarket run as soon as you got in,” Nate said as he opened the porch doors and stepped out on the wooden decking. Carter grabbed a couple of beers and followed. They settled on the loungers and popped open the caps on the bottles.

  “So… how are you feeling? I mean, really feeling?” Nate asked.

  “I’m fine. A bit tired from the long flight, but I guess that’s to be expected after flying halfway across the world.” Carter put his booted feet up on the low railing and leaned his head back. The salty tang of the sea breeze felt good in his lungs.

  “You know—“ Nathan started to speak but stopped as a deep breath released from his lungs, ”—we were really worried there for a while. Had a bad feeling you weren’t going to make it.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? A little bit of fever for a few days isn’t going to kill me. Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft in your old age?” Carter expected an explosive retort at his age comment. Nate was only three months older, but Carter took every opportunity to remind him of it. The silence made him look up at his best friend. His eyes narrowed at the strange expression on Nathan’s face and he straightened in his seat.

  “How long do you think you were in hospital for, Carter?” Nate visibly held his breath as he waited for the answer.

  “Dunno, never asked. I was so groggy when I first woke up and none of the nurses spoke English, so I never bothered finding out. I’m guessing it was about a week or so, right?” A feeling of dread settled in Carter’s belly, and he fixed his gaze on Nate, who squirmed in his seat as if he regretted having brought it up. “Nate, how long was I out? It was just a quick bout of fever for fuck’s sake, wasn’t it?” Carter’s words had a sharp edge to them as the knot of worry grew to gigantic proportions. “Shit, man, just tell me! How long was I in that damn hospital?”

  “Six months. You were there for the six longest fucking months of my life.” Nate’s voice was barely audible, but Carter still heard every word. He couldn’t believe it, though. No way. That was impossible. There was no fucking way he’d been in hospital for that long and didn’t remember. He felt numb, not willing to accept he’d lost half a year of his life.

  “You can’t be serious. That’s impossible.”

  “Sorry, man. I thought someone would have told you before you came home.”

  “Tell me what the hell happened? And why don’t I remember shit of any of it?” Carter abruptly got up and leaned his forearms against the railing. His shoulders heaved up and down with each shuddering breath as he struggled to wrap his head around what he’d just been told. “What happened?” He bit out through his teeth, trying to keep his voice even.

  Nate came to stand next to him and inhaled deeply as if he was worried how Carter would react to his explanation.

  “You remember the mission?” Nate asked. At Carter’s nod he continued. “We’d been in the country for nearly a month, doing surveillance, getting intel and grabbing mules off the smuggling routes. We’d gone in to blow up the poppy fields and the buildings where they were producing the heroin, which obviously didn’t make us very popular with the management. Right at the very end, we had an ugly altercation with the drug lord and his henchmen. They didn’t like us breaking up their little setup and fought back. You got into a knife fight with one of them and ended up with his blade in your stomach but not before you’d nearly gutted him. Stabbing you was the last thing the fucker ever did. Anyway, we were deep in the jungle and the sat phone decided it didn’t want to work that far from civilization for some dumb-fuck reason.” Nate stopped and took a swig of his beer. “It took us four days to carry your ass out of that swampy hell and back to where we could finally get in touch with command. You’d lost a lot of blood and the wound got badly infected even with the antibiotics the medic injected you with. We made our rendezvous and were picked up by a chopper and got the hell out of there. The local agents stayed to clean up the mess and pick up any stragglers. You got evac’d to the nearest military hospital, and the surgeon worked for hours trying to stitch your gut back together. They pumped you full of drugs, but the infection was so bad they weren’t sure
you’d be able to fight it off.” Nate’s voice trailed off and he stood silent for a minute just staring out at the sea, colored red by the setting sun.

  Carter felt as if he’d been dropped from a great height and splattered on the hard ground. His strength left his limbs and he dropped down on the lounger. He lowered his head in his hands, trying to make sense of what his friend was telling him while one hand moved to the left side of his waist where a throbbing pain flared up. He inhaled sharply.

  “Then, as if the infection wasn’t enough, you caught dengue fever despite the shots we had before we left. The doc figured it was because your immune system was already so compromised and couldn’t fight another infection. I had no fucking clue what to do and before you’d woken up, I was given orders to return. I tried to persuade DK to let me stay, but he was adamant I come back. You went under for several months and then were in and out of it until they finally got the disease under control. It took weeks before they were confident you’d survive. There were still concerns you might have lasting damage from the fever. They were talking about brain damage, Carter.” Nate turned and stared at Carter who sat with his shoulders hunched and face covered by his big hands.

  “I’m sorry, man. I hated leaving you, but I had no choice. The boss needed me here and there wasn’t anything I could have done for you, anyway. More than keep you company on the flight home.”

  “Holy fuck! I’ve been gone for seven months? No wonder my family met me at the airport. Shit! My mom. How much did they tell her?” Carter sighed.

  “Probably not everything, but enough to know it was serious. Kampeche told me she wanted to fly out there, and he had a job convincing her it wasn’t a good idea.”

  “Damn! No wonder I can’t remember anything, and my brain is so sluggish. Why the hell wasn’t I told any of this at the hospital? Surely there was someone there who could have told me the truth? Fuck!”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t. It wasn’t until we were waiting for you to land that DK told me you knew nothing of what had happened.”

  “This is totally fucked up. I feel as if I left only a couple of weeks ago. As if we just got back from… Seattle.” Carter grimaced at the onslaught of memories. It was not what he needed right now.

  Nathan didn’t stay long that evening, just long enough to make sure he had everything he needed and there were no lingering effects of the long flight back. The doctor on staff had warned that long flights took its toll on the human body and there was no way of knowing how Carter would react, if at all.

  After Nate had left, Carter stayed on the porch for a while but was too restless to keep still. He took his boots off, rolled up his pant legs and stepped down on the sand. For a long while, he walked up and down the beach just enjoying the feeling of freedom. The freedom to go where he wanted, do what he wanted and not be stuck in a hospital bed in a room with no windows. A breeze whipped up and ruffled his hair. Carter sank down on the sand, still warm from the afternoon sunshine and lost himself in the sound of the surf lapping against the shore. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but eventually tiredness forced him back to his house and his bed.

  “Carter! Help me! Please, don’t leave, he’ll kill me. Please!” Madison’s green eyes pleaded for him to get her out of the cage she was trapped in. He could see the bruises on her face and the broken bones in her arm. Blood was trickling from her brow where she’d hit her head after being thrown to the ground. Carter was stuck behind a glass wall and was powerless to stop the torment. He banged his fists against the clear surface to no avail as a man stepped out from behind the cage. He grabbed Madison by the hair and dragged her over to where Carter stood. With a cruel grin on his lips he wrapped his hands around her throat and started squeezing. Carter shouted at the top of his lungs, but no sound came out and he was forced to watch as life gradually drained from her once so sparkling eyes, her movements slowed until she hung limply in the man’s arms. The man turned towards Carter, and to his horror he saw himself. He’d killed her. He had killed Madison. He lifted his hands and saw blood smeared all over them. His breathing quickened as his eyes swept across the room. Gone was the glass wall, and he found himself standing inside the steel cage with Madison slumped at his feet and a big knife in his hand. Her cloudy eyes stopped seeing the world around her as the last puff of air left her lungs. A deep bellow worked its way up Carter’s throat as he realized what he’d done. NOOOOOO!

  Carter bolted upright in his bed as the scream died on his lips. The sheets were tangled up around his legs and sweat dripped off his skin. He gasped for air and clawed at his throat as the strangling sensation increased by the second. His vision swam and his arms started to feel heavy. Finally, he broke free from the sweat-soaked bedlinen and he scrambled off the bed. Pulling himself up off the floor, he stumbled out into the living room and opened the door to the porch. The cool night breeze hit him in the face and he greedily gulped down a big lungful of air. With his chest still heaving and lungs begging for more oxygen, he collapsed on the lounger. Carter pulled his knees up to his chest and tried to force the images of Madison’s broken body from where they’d seared themselves onto the inside of his eyelids. His mind was a tornado of images, sounds and memories. None of them made any sense, and he felt dizzy and nauseous. He’d had nightmares every time he closed his eyes since he woke up in the hospital, but this was the first time Madison had appeared in them. He didn’t know what to make of it and was way too tired to try and figure it out.

  The sun was already quite high in the sky when Carter woke up. He stretched his aching limbs and tried to shake off the impressions the nightmare had left behind. He scrubbed his face with his hands and raked his fingers through his hair. Last night’s dream had really messed with his head, and he felt a bit groggy and disoriented. At least knowing he was back home gave him a small sense of freedom and relief. Unfolding from the lounger, he decided on a shower before breakfast and went back in the house. On the way to the bedroom, he flipped on the coffee maker and soon the kitchen was filled with the tantalizing aroma of hot, strong coffee. After his shower, he felt almost human again and it helped wash away the last remnants of sleep. He wrapped a towel around his waist and wiped the condensation off the large mirror with his hand. He scrutinized his own reflection and winced at the angry red scar on the side of his stomach. It was about four inches long with a puckered and jagged edge. It had been a big ass hunting knife. An inch higher up and he wouldn’t be standing there right now, according to Nate. He’d been lucky the asshole hadn’t had the strength to do any more damage, mainly due to the fact he was bleeding out himself after Carter had buried his own knife in the guy’s chest. Carter left the bathroom, not wanting to think about what had happened on the op any more than necessary. He’d already lost seven months of his life and wasn’t going to waste any more precious time on trying to remember things best left alone.

  Breakfast consisted of coffee and a couple of pieces of toast. Not the most exciting morning meal but better than the crap they’d served in the hospital. He refilled his cup and took it out on the verandah where the sun was shining from a bright blue sky. Carter sank down on the top step leading down to the beach and looked out on the glittering Atlantic Ocean. It was good to finally be home.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Two weeks of being back in Virginia Beach with nothing to do was driving Carter crazy and he was desperate for something — anything — to occupy himself with. His boss wouldn’t even let him ride a desk at the office until both the staff doctor and the psychologist had declared him fit for duty. Nate was about to be sent off on another assignment and would be out of contact for several weeks at least. Dammit all to hell! He had to find something to keep himself busy with or he would go batshit crazy before the end of the week. He was still battling exhaustion, mainly because he barely slept more than a couple of hours every night. Haunted by dreams of hot, humid jungles and cold rain lashing down in heavy winds. And her. Always her. She haunted his every dr
eam and he had no idea how to banish her from his subconsciousness. Every morning and every night, he went running to tire himself out enough to get some sleep, but nothing seemed to help. The intense workouts at the nearby gym only succeeded in making every muscle in his body ache and left his knuckles bruised and swollen. His house looked as if a bomb had hit, and everywhere he turned there was stuff dumped haphazardly. He’d always been a neat and tidy person, but since he came back it was as if he’d had a complete change of personality. He growled at anyone who came within ten feet and had started to decline all phone calls and sent them straight to voicemail. The only ones he’d pick up were from his family, DK and Nate. He just didn’t feel like dealing with anyone else. Christmas was coming up and he had no inclination to even think about it, let alone celebrate with his family like he usually did. He knew he had to straighten himself out, but he wasn’t sure how or even where to start. Knowing he had to do it was one thing. Wanting to, quite another.

  He’d been sitting at the counter in the kitchen for a while just staring into nothing when a sudden gust of wind against the house jerked him back from his chaotic thoughts. Suddenly, he realized his hand had closed around the neck of a bottle of vodka and he’d been ready to drink straight from it. What the fuck was he doing? How much had he had already? He tried to focus, but just couldn’t remember anything from the last few hours. Enough of this shit! Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get yourself under control! He growled at himself. He put the cap back on the vodka and stashed it at the back of his drinks cabinet. He was not going down that route. It was way too easy to drink yourself to oblivion every day, but a hell of a lot harder to break the habit — or addiction. That wasn’t him, it had never been him, and he sure as hell wouldn’t do that to his family. He resolved to get the house cleaned up, some washing done and then do a grocery run. He needed to get back to his normal, healthy routines and stop feeling sorry for himself.