by S. E. Lund
“Make sure you come by Saturday,” he said as I got on my bike. “I got a whole new crew of recruits starting.”
“I will,” and we fist bumped once more.
“Semper fi,” he said in Marine Corps tradition.
“Oorah,” I replied.
I went back to my hotel and worked on the presentation I’d be giving to a group of investors I was hoping to woo during the weekend, spending time describing Brimstone, its origins, its mandate and the work we had already undertaken.
Brimstone started as an idea Graham and I had during our time in Afghanistan. We were with Bravo Company, a Special Ops team and part of the Joint Special Operations Command. We’d spent time in the worst hell-holes in Iraq and Afghanistan, and undertook missions that put us in the most dangerous parts of the country. We worked with Special Operations Forces from other coalition nations, including the British Special Operations Forces teams and called in their artillery to enemy targets. Laser guided, the Brimstone missile the Brits used was effective against enemy armor. In addition to other duties, our recon unit went into enemy territory to find and eliminate armored vehicles so our own forces could move in.
We called ourselves the Brimstone team, not only because of the missile, but because we lived through hell while in Iraq. I got the idea of using the name when we came back from Afghanistan and left the Marines, intent on starting my company.
For the rest of the night I spent my time working on the presentation, eating in my hotel room. I hit the rack at midnight, feeling as ready as I’d ever be. I planned on driving into Wilmington in the morning to meet with a few of the Wall Street types and wanted to be fresh.
The stress of everything must have gotten to me. I woke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, my heart pounding, a nightmare of the explosion and aftermath of the accident in my mind’s eye. I bolted upright in bed and once I realized where I was, I did some deep breathing to try to calm myself. The clock radio at the bedside table read 4:45 a.m. – the usual time I woke up when I had my nightmares.
Casey had urged me to go to the VA for PTSD counseling, but it just didn’t feel right. I came out of the whole business with the least damage. I was alive. Sure, I had a very visible scar to show for it, but I was alive…
I had to buck up and take it like a Marine.
Maybe shaking Lewis’s father’s hand and offering my condolences to his mother, returning the letters to them, would help heal those wounds I did still have.
The kind of wounds you can’t see.
I got up and went to the bathroom for a piss, then drank a glass of water and stood at the window. I cracked the drapes and looked out from the hotel towards the marina and ocean beyond. A wind had picked up during the night, and the metallic sign outside the hotel swung back and forth, its rusty bearing screeching in a rhythmic fashion that I knew would grate on my nerves and prevent me from falling back asleep. Dawn was still an hour away, but I could see a faint crack of brightness on the far horizon.
Might as well get up.
I threw on my sweats and t-shirt, put on my running shoes and went for a run along the beach. Twenty minutes of running would wake me up, and if that failed, I’d run into the surf and that would be sure to do the trick.
When I returned to the hotel, the sky was visibly brightening on the horizon and so I went inside and decided to sit on the deck and have my breakfast while watching the sunrise. Luckily, the hotel restaurant was open at 6:30 and so by 6:45, after a quick shower and after I dressed in my casual clothes, I was seated at a table on the faded wood deck, a cup of coffee in hand, reading the Wall Street Journal on my iPad. A breakfast of fruit and eggs finished the early morning off.
While I waited for my suits to come back from the dry cleaner, I went over my first and second quarter financial numbers, wanting to show investors how much we brought in – what Graham and I brought in – to the company. Besides my DARPA contract, I had a number of clients I advised on security when they were over in Afghanistan and Iraq, or other countries in the Middle East or Pacific Rim states. Graham had the war tourism part of the business, and I’d been able to find a few old SOF guys to take a couple of his contracts, but they were only in the business part time and I wanted to get out of it completely.
After my suits were delivered to my hotel room, I dressed in my grey suit and arranged for a local car service to come pick me up and drive me into Wilmington for my afternoon meeting. I opened my laptop and read over the brochures I brought along with me for the meetings while the driver took me into the city.
The meetings went well. I knew a few former Marines who went into finance after they did their time in Iraq and it was those contacts that helped me get Brimstone Solutions Inc. off the ground when Graham and I started it three years earlier. The guys agreed to come out and spend an evening in Topsail Beach. I thought about going to Oceanside for dinner and seeing what it had to offer, but wasn’t sure whether my presence would be appreciated.
To tell the truth, I’d become a bit obsessed with the Lewis family since I discovered our shared fates over in Afghanistan and since I’d met Miranda and read her love letters. Her words kept coming back to me now and then unbidden – how she missed his touch, his kiss, and his presence in her bed. How she missed waking up with him on a Sunday morning in their place in Wilmington where they spent the summers while she was off from school and he was in between missions.
I thought about them making love in the warm sunlight and felt a stab of grief in my chest. Immediately, I thought of Sue and remembered our time together, and the last time I saw her.
I couldn’t wait to see Miranda again, and learn if the way I felt when I met her before remained.
Maybe this time, I could coax her into having dinner with me or a drink.
I aimed to find out.
Despite being exhausted from a bad night of sleep, I knew my stuff and felt comfortable talking to them about Brimstone. Former SOF, they appreciated the work Brimstone did and were interested in helping with funding. I hoped it would mean I could continue on and not declare bankruptcy and so I left the meeting feeling better than I had for several weeks.
One of the investors, Dane O’Hara, was interested in helping out with some advising work. He was the kind of man I was looking for to step in for Graham – dual degree in Political Science and law and topped off by an MBA, Dane was smart, capable and was independently wealthy from an inheritance. He thought it would be great fun to get in on the ground floor with Brimstone during its resurrection.
As I left the boardroom, we shook hands and agreed that he’d meet me in Manhattan and sit down for a longer conversation about what role he could play in the business. He was sick of the Wall Street crowd, and wanted to get back involved in the military in a more operational fashion. Advising businesses about locating factories in war-torn areas of the world would allow him to get his very clean banker’s hands dirty again.
If things worked out with Dane, that would be well worth the trip right there, let alone anything else we accomplished this weekend.
I went back to Topsail Beach with a promise to meet up with the guys on Saturday night at one of the local hangouts. We’d share a few drinks and rehash old times over in Afghanistan.
Friday morning, I got up early to go to the fitness club and so I dressed and had breakfast, intending to go there for an early workout before returning to the hotel to plan my day. I would meet my staff as they arrived one by one, and make sure they were set up for the day in the hotel. We had a meeting scheduled after lunch, and people were arriving and staying in the hospitality suite I had booked until their rooms were ready. We’d meet in the boardroom at 1:00 and spend the afternoon reviewing numbers for the first two quarters of the year.
The next day would be in brainstorming how to replace the business Graham brought in, transitioning out of the war tourism business into more threat assessment.
So, after a quick shower and after a light breakfast, I drove my bike down the strip to the
fitness club and showed my pass to the attendant at the front desk. He remembered me and gave me a lock so I could use a day locker in the locker room. I went out to the main fitness rooms and popped in to see Fillmore.
After a round of hellos, I got down to business.
“We got a lot of students?” I asked and he handed me the clipboard with a print out of a list of students for the class. Twenty-three, including – of all people – Mira Parker.
I had to check twice, because it was too hard to believe, but I remembered her saying something about getting back into shape. Her being in the class was a fortuitous coincidence – one that I intended to fully exploit.
“Don’t be late, Tate,” he said in that raspy voice I remembered from boot camp.
“I won’t, Master Sergeant.”
Then, I walked down a hallway and saw a larger gym, so I peered inside. There, I saw Mira and the cocktail waitress who worked with her the night I met her at the restaurant. They were standing at a small climbing wall and Mira was already in her climbing harness, a helmet on her head and climbing shoes on. She looked really cute in her little t-shirt and sweat pants, but her expression suggested she wasn’t quite sure about climbing.
I stood back for a moment, trying to decide whether I should just turn around and leave, drop off her letters at Lewis’s parent’s house. It would be the more honorable thing to do, rather than keep pursuing her in hopes that something more would result.
But she was just so damn cute…
In for a penny, in for a pound, my grandma used to say.
I was in way over my head and even though I knew it, I dove back in anyway.
CHAPTER SIX
Miranda
“You know you want to do it,” Leah said.
We stood at the bottom of the climbing wall and looked up. Leah had a doubtful expression on her face.
“I want to,” I said, “but I also value my life.”
We both laughed. I looked up the wall to the ceiling and reconsidered my plan to live life more fully. I’d always been the safe one – the responsible one. The one who did my chores, who came home on time, who did my homework, who sent thank you cards on my birthday.
I always asked for permission instead of forgiveness.
Dan made me brave. I did things with him that I would never have done on my own, but now that he was gone, I had to find the courage in myself. My old life was over. Living safely hadn’t turned out well for me, so from that day onward, I was going to live on the edge. Like Dan did.
“You haven’t lifted a finger since last year,” Leah said doubtfully. “Are you up to it?”
Since last year. No one ever said since Dan died as if not mentioning his name made it somehow less personal and therefore easier to bear. Even now, people were trying to shield me from thoughts of him, but I thought of him every single day.
That had to change. I had to start over.
I hadn’t had regular exercise for most of the past year. Today I was going to start a new routine.
“I need this,” I said, forcing my voice to be all positive and coachy. “Let’s seize the day. Carpe diem, babe.”
Seize the day.
It’s what I wanted, but why is starting something new so damn hard?
As we were standing there, fiddling with the harness, Mr. Beckett Tate, CEO and DEA officer, walked up.
A shock went through me. What was he doing back in Topsail Beach? I’d often thought of him, regretting that I didn’t have that drink with him, being cautious as usual. But now, here he was and I was suspicious.
“Hello again,” he said when he came to my side. I stared at him in silence, a bit unnerved and at a loss for what to say.
“Are you stalking me?” I said finally.
“No, of course not,” he said, frowning. “I told you I was looking for a place to hold my staff retreat. I liked Topsail Beach and so we’re here for the weekend. This is the only decent place to work out on the island. All guests at the Yacht Club have day passes.”
I didn’t know what to say for a moment as I adjusted the straps snaking between my thighs. I wore a helmet and gloves, kneepads and elbow pads, my hair pulled back into a ponytail, which poked through the hole in the helmet.
Leah stood beside me. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” She wagged her eyebrows.
I frowned and turned to Beckett. “Beckett Tate, this is Leah Grant.”
“Pleased to meet you,” he said to Leah, bowing low.
“Do you know how to do this?” she asked, pointing to the climbing wall. “We had a lesson but I have a feeling that one lesson isn’t enough.”
As usual, Leah was totally cool about the fact that a stranger from out of town who I met weeks earlier returned and apparently, was now at our health club. She went with the flow.
“I just so happen to be an expert climber,” Beckett said with a grin. “One of my many superpowers.” He winked at me and as much as I wanted to smile at him, appreciate our private joke, I couldn’t.
Leah turned to me. I was still unsure of what to say. I didn’t like the fact that Beckett had come back to Topsail Beach, and I didn’t like the idea that he had come to the fitness club. It felt a bit like stalking. A lot like stalking.
“Hey, Grumpy Cat,” Leah said, one eyebrow raised. “Are you going to climb or are you going to stand there like a deer caught in the headlights?”
“I hate when you call me that,” I said with a frown. “Do you want to go first?”
She bit her bottom lip, trying not to laugh. “Go ahead and climb. Remember what Craig said. I’ll watch you the first time.”
“Suit yourself,” I said and shrugged.
“You promised to take risks,” she chided.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I said a bit crossly. “Doing anything’s a risk with you.”
“That’s because I’m so damn fuunn.”
“Let me help you with that,” Beckett said. He checked my harness. Once everything was fastened, he turned to me. “Ready?” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “Remember to use your feet and keep your center of gravity over them. Don’t be afraid. I’ll catch you if you fall.”
“I’m not afraid,” I said, a little too tartly and in total denial of the way my knees were weak but I wasn’t going to let him know that. I shook the ropes. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
I turned to the wall and looked up to the top.
I’d made a pact with myself that from now on, I was going to do everything I was afraid of – everything. In no particular order, that meant:
Climb a mountain.
Fly an airplane.
Go on a roller coaster.
Eat sashimi.
Bungee jump.
Visit the top of the Empire State Building.
Skydive.
Take self-defense classes.
Have a one-night stand with a gorgeous man just to see what it was like…
Okay, that last one was made up on the spot after seeing Beckett again, dressed in his low-slung faded jeans and white mock-turtleneck t-shirt. If fate was going to come barreling out of nowhere and kill me like it killed Dan, I wanted to have lived a little – make that a lot – first.
Beckett checked my harness one last time and then held up his fist, so we could fist-bump. I almost missed his I was shaking so badly.
He grinned at me. “You’ll do fine. It’s a kid’s apparatus.”
“Thanks,” I said with a laugh, starting to relax a bit. Maybe he had a valid reason for being back in Topsail Beach. Leah didn’t seem the least bit concerned. Maybe I didn’t have to be so freaked out.
I looked up the wall and tried to replicate what I learned when our instructor demonstrated earlier. Why make it any harder than it already was?
“Here goes nothing.”
It was hard and it was easy.
Hard because I used muscles I didn’t even know existed. Easy because it was only fifteen feet high and it was the beginner wall, designed
for children or people who had never climbed before. I climbed one knobby outcropping at a time, sliding my fingers over rocks and between crevices, testing my footing, pulling myself up slowly, carefully. When I got to the top, I exhaled in relief, not realizing I’d been holding my breath, and glanced down. It wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, I freaking loved it.
Elated that I got to the top of the wall rather quickly, I smiled down on Leah and Beckett and waved, as if I’d just won the Academy Award for best Actress.
“Take it slow,” Beckett called up to me when I started down. It didn’t appear so hard from where I stood but I did what he’d told me and pushed off while he let the rope release slowly, a few feet at a time. The rappel down was actually fun once I got the rhythm of it.
I could actually do this.
When I reached the bottom, Leah and I high-fived then Beckett fist bumped me again, and this time I didn’t miss.
“See,” I said, laughing. “Nothing to it.”
I wanted to feel fearless like that all the time. About everything. I wanted to think there was nothing to whatever it was that I faced in life. I knew it would feel spectacular.
You’d think the daughter of a career FBI Special Agent would be fearless, but you’d be wrong. If anything, I was even more obsessed with safety than average, aware of bad guys and criminals and threats to life and limb. You’d also think that someone with a fear of violent death would avoid going into the criminal justice profession but you’d be wrong about that, too. Surrounding myself with all things law enforcement was the only way I felt truly safe.
I had to break out of that mold if I ever hoped to move on with my life.
“Your turn,” I said to Leah as Beckett helped me unhook the harness. As I took it off, I looked at Leah. “Nothing to it.”
Then Leah took a turn, and Beckett and I watched while she climbed the wall. She was a bit more hesitant than I had been, but she seemed just as happy when she reached the top.
“Are you going to climb?” I asked while Leah descended.
