“Damn it.” It came out as half sob, half growl of anger. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands dangling. He was missing a shoe on one foot, and both his sock and shoe on the other. How would he walk to the car with no shoes? It was a stupid random thought, but he fixated on it. “I need some shoes.” He wanted to pay his respects and knew this would be the only time he would get a chance. He owed him that much. “I have to see his body.”
“I’m sorry. We haven’t found his body yet. It was there immediately after the blast, but the waves were so bad, nobody dared go into the water. Also, we didn’t know if there would be another explosion. By the time we felt it was safe to go near the water, he was gone.” Jim turned and motioned to the activity near the water. “Divers are searching now. I expect they’ll find him soon.”
Mark snagged the blanket off the gurney, wrapping it around his shoulders, and stood all in one motion. He was unsteady for a moment, but maintained his balance. “I can’t leave until they find him.” He brushed past Jim and trudged to the edge. His father was there and beside him, Jessie. They turned at his approach. His dad looked like he was going to say something, but he didn’t, instead, he just reached out and pulled the blanket up higher on Mark’s shoulder.
Jessie circled him and put her arm behind his back, her eyes roaming his face. “How are you feeling? You almost gave me a heart attack. When they pulled you out, I thought you were dead.”
Uncomfortable he avoided her gaze but couldn’t resist draping an arm over her shoulders as he kept an eye on the activity of the divers. “Okay. Better than I expected to be, in fact.” The cold, dark water swirled as a boat circled and Mark shivered, imagining Mo’s body caught in the whirlpool.
Jim moved up beside Jessie. For several minutes, nobody spoke as they observed the recovery attempt. It was strange to think how just a week ago, Mark would have welcomed news of Mo’s passing, and now he could only hope that everyone was wrong and his former friend would show up alive, maybe swept farther out and clinging to the end of Navy Pier or something. He flashed to the look of anguish and regret on Mohommad’s face just before they escaped the bus. Mark felt relief that Mo had been unsuccessful in his mission, but he sensed that Mohommad’s comment about failure hadn’t been about the bomb at all.
In a voice raw with emotion, Mark broke the silence. “He seemed…not exactly sorry for what he had planned to do, but upset that he couldn’t even get this right. It was like he hadn’t thought of the consequences of people dying. I know he wasn’t doing this for himself.” He paused, unable for a moment to squeeze the words past the tightening in his throat. “Mo was trying to prove something to his uncles.” I just can’t believe that in his heart, he was a terrorist—a killer. I just can’t.”
Jessie tilted her face up towards him. “Are you saying he didn’t know what he was doing? Because I’m sorry, but if you hadn’t stopped him, he would have succeeded in murdering dozens or even hundreds of people today, including you. Admit it.” Her eyes were dark with anger even as tears brimmed.
He stared at her and then pulled her tight against his side, whispering down by her ear, “I’m sorry.” Somehow, she had known.
The divers surfaced and between them, they clutched Mohommad’s lifeless body. His face was a mottled gray. It was hard to think that less than an hour ago, they had faced each other in the bus. Had Mohommad prepared himself to die like Mark had this morning? Or had he expected to live and escape back to Afghanistan? Feeling empty and sick, Mark bowed his head. “What a waste.”
His dad’s hand wrapped around the back of Mark’s neck and he gave a little squeeze. “At least he did something good in his last few minutes. That has to count for something.”
Jim made a sound of agreement as Mark turned to his father in puzzlement. “Ask Jim what your buddy’s last words were.”
Mark looked over Jessie’s head to Jim, who nodded and said, “His last words were for us to grab you and get you back—for all of us to get back. I think he knew the bus was going to explode.”
Mark turned that over in his mind as a kernel of warmth grew inside his chest and spread through him. “So, he warned all of you, and he could have saved himself, leaving me to die, but instead, he saved me and warned all of you. What kind of terrorist does that?”
Mark let the question hang there for a moment before answering it himself. “No terrorist would show mercy towards the enemy…but a friend wouldn’t think twice.”
Also by M.P. McDonald
Now available! The next book in the Mark Taylor Series,
March Into Madness: Book Four
Description:
After thwarting a disaster in the nation's capital, Mark Taylor captures the attention of the CIA. Mark doesn't trust the agency—not with his history with them—but he agrees to demonstrate the miraculous camera in the hopes of creating a team to help him ward off future catastrophe.
Mark realizes too late that he should have listened to his gut instincts when he finds himself held in the bowels of DC against his will while agents of the CIA, intent upon learning the secrets of his psychic abilities, use him as a test subject.
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If you have a moment, a review would be greatly appreciated.
Acknowledgments
I wouldn’t have been able to finish this book without the help of so many people. First and foremost, I would like to thank Jessica Tate. For about four years now, we’ve been pushing each other to write via our online writing sessions. I’m not sure what I would do without that push.
Thank you to my fantastic editor, Felicia Sullivan. Wonderful job!
Without my amazing beta readers, this book would have been a complete mess. What I found interesting was that all of them had different strengths. One was great at noticing missing words—and you’d be surprised how often that happens as my mind thinks faster than my hands can type—another caught various plot point issues. Several zeroed in on my many typos, and one was a comma guru. So, in no special order, I’d like to thank, Vicki Boehnlein, Al Kunz, Deb Ivy, Joe Toeben, Lala Price and Allie Brumley.
And last, but not least, a huge thank you to my ‘forumily’. You all know who you are. I love that there is a place I can go to get support, feedback, vent, or just get a much needed laugh. You are all awesome!
About the Author
I know a lot of these are written in third person, but that just feels too unnatural for me so I’m going to be a rebel and write this in first person. I’m M.P. McDonald, and I live in a small town in Wisconsin with my family, just a stone’s throw from a beautiful lake, and literally spitting distance to a river on the other side. We love the peace and quiet and being able to go down to the beach on a hot summer day for a quick swim. Chicago and Milwaukee are just an hour’s drive away in either direction, so we are never far from the excitement of a big city.
As you can tell from my books’ setting, I love Chicago. One of my sons used to do commercials and modeling in the 90s, so we spent many an afternoon driving to auditions and look-sees in Chicago. Mark Taylor’s studio/loft is based in part on the many cool photography studios we encountered during his years in ‘showbiz’. One thing I didn’t like was trying to park there, so when possible, we took the train from the northern suburbs, so it was fun incorporating that experience into this book.
When I’m not writing, I work as a respiratory therapist at a small hospital that is part of a large hospital system in eastern Wisconsin. While I mostly love my work, I’m hoping to go part-time in the very near future so I can spend more time writing. That would be the best of both worlds.
I love to hear from readers. No, I mean it. I love to hear from readers, even if it’s not all good. Without feedback from readers, I might never have undertaken this book. I had
n’t planned on writing a series for Mark Taylor, but readers kept asking, so I was happy to deliver.
Contact Me
Here are some ways you can reach me, and since I am an internet junkie, I’ll probably write back very quickly.
Website
Email: [email protected]
FaceBook
Twitter: @MarkTaylorBooks
Pinterest: http://pinterist.com/mpmcdonald
Mark Taylor Omnibus (The Mark Taylor Series) Page 90
