Freefall

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  Tristan closed the storage locker and snapped Brent back to the present. “You two really should come. Maybe Amy can introduce us to some of her friends.”

  “We’ll see.” With that he turned away and got back to work.

  * * *

  Amy stepped into the cultural hall at the Oakton Stake Center and instantly wished she hadn’t come. Independence Day was only two days away, and the cultural hall was decked out in red, white, and blue, reminding her too much of Brent and his dedication to serving his country. She tried not to think of the dangers of his job or where he might be right now. Instead, she let her eyes adjust to the dimmed lights and glanced around at the many familiar faces.

  The girlfriend that had bullied her into coming to the dance was waiting for her just inside the door. She immediately dragged Amy across the room to meet a friend of her boyfriend. The poor guy looked as surprised as Amy was to be party to their friends’ obvious matchmaking scheme. Reluctantly he asked her to dance, and Amy promised herself that she would find some excuse to spare both of them from any of their friends’ expectations.

  She had barely made her escape when one of Jared’s friends cornered her and wanted to talk about exactly what Jared had done to get arrested. Even though Amy insisted that she wasn’t at liberty to talk about it, the friend persisted and Amy finally made the excuse that she needed to go to the restroom.

  What she had hoped would be a brief reprieve turned out to be anything but. She opened the door to the restroom to find a few of the women from her singles ward inside. Instantly she was bombarded with questions. What was it like when she was held hostage? Did she really fall out of a helicopter? How did she manage to get home? And then there was her favorite, “Is Charlie dating anyone right now?”

  Using a combination of diplomacy and avoidance, Amy finally managed to break free from the inquest in the restroom only to find Tristan walking through the door into the foyer. Her eyes widened when Quinn and Seth followed them inside without Brent. Her first horrifying thought was that something had happened to him on his last mission. When Tristan approached with a smile on his face, other doubts started creeping in.

  “Hi, Amy. I didn’t think you were going to be here.” Tristan reached out and shook her hand. “Brent acted like you weren’t going to come.”

  “Really?” Amy asked casually even as her heart broke neatly in two. She knew in that moment that Brent didn’t want to see her anymore. She had convinced herself she could live with the doubts, the insecurity, the waiting for the call she hoped would never come. Now she had to live with the fact that she had fallen in love with a man who didn’t love her in return.

  Oblivious to the battle waging inside her, Seth stepped beside Tristan and asked, “Where is Brent? Is he inside?”

  She wasn’t sure how to answer without letting them see how deeply hurt she was by what their presence meant. Had she not seen them, she would have just assumed that Brent was still on assignment. Drawing on all of her strength, she kept her voice light when she answered, “Actually, I’m not sure. A girlfriend had asked me to come with her before I had a chance to make other plans.”

  Tristan grinned at her. “In that case, save me a dance.”

  “Sure.” Amy agreed even though all she wanted to do was go home and cry.

  She kept up the pretense for nearly an hour before anyone realized a thing. When Seth noticed Amy trying to dodge the attentions of the elders quorum president, he moved in and rescued her by asking her to dance to the slow song that was just beginning.

  “I’m surprised Brent didn’t show up here tonight,” Seth commented casually. “If he knew how many guys you’ve had to fight off, I think he would probably stick to your side like glue.”

  Amy didn’t say anything, but Seth felt her tense. He looked down at her, and for a long moment he said nothing. Finally, he spoke softly. “Did he even call when we got back?”

  She shook her head and sniffed back the tears that she refused to let come. She took a deep breath, hoping her voice was steady when she finally spoke. “Would you mind walking me out to my car? I really don’t want to be here, but I doubt I can make it past my friends without some help.”

  “No problem.” Seth nodded and took her hand to lead her across the cultural hall and then through the foyer where her protection detail was waiting. The two men followed Amy and Seth out into the parking lot and headed for their car as Seth escorted Amy to hers. “I assume you don’t want the rest of the guys to know about our talk?”

  Amy shook her head, focusing on digging her car keys out of her purse. When finally she found them and unlocked the door, she turned to look at Seth. “Thanks for walking me out.”

  “You’re welcome.” Seth took a step back toward the church and then hesitated. He turned back, his voice carrying just a hint of a southern accent. “I can’t give you details, but the last mission wasn’t an easy one for Brent.”

  “But he’s okay?”

  “Yeah, he’s okay.”

  Amy nodded, and without a word she got in her car and drove into the darkness.

  * * *

  Brent walked into the office on Tuesday morning, his mood surly. He had let his mom rope him into dinner the night before, and her endless questions about Amy had been more than he could take. He had finally made excuses to get out of attending the fireworks display at one of the local churches. Instead, he had gone home to sulk. He was tired of everyone assuming that he and Amy were a couple even though he had only known her for barely more than a month. To hear his mother talk, one would think she expected to hear wedding bells any minute.

  He saw Quinn first and nodded a greeting rather than taking the effort to speak.

  “Hey, Brent.” Quinn stepped into his path rather than letting him just walk by him. “We missed you at the dance Saturday.”

  Brent shrugged and started to move past him.

  “You know, you really should have come,” Quinn continued. “We did what we could to help Amy fight the guys off, but some of them were pretty persistent.”

  Brent looked at Quinn now, considering. His already lousy mood darkened, but he managed to say, “I’m sure she appreciated that.”

  Before Quinn could continue the conversation, Brent continued down the hall to his office. He was nearly to his desk when he noticed Seth standing just inside the door.

  “Did you need something?” Brent asked briskly.

  Without a word, Seth closed the door and then turned back to face Brent. “What’s going on, Brent? What happened with Amy?”

  “Since when does everyone think they have the right to intrude on my personal life?” Brent shot back irritably. He pushed the button to turn on his computer in the fleeting hope that Seth would just go away. He should have known better.

  Seth just stared at him, watching him with those deep, dark eyes. He took his time about answering, but when he spoke, Brent felt the truth of his words spear through him. “I’m your friend, and I’m worried about you. I know you have feelings for this girl, but I can’t figure out why you’re trying to blow it.”

  Brent ran a hand over his face and let out a sigh. “I don’t want to talk about this, okay?”

  “No, it’s not okay,” Seth shot back. He was usually a man of few words, but when the situation called for it, he could spar with the best. “You fall in love with an incredible girl and then you break her heart. What is wrong with you?”

  “I can’t let her live like this!” Brent’s voice rose. “I owe it to her to let her get on with her life—a normal life.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t want a normal life,” Seth suggested mildly.

  “What do you expect me to do? Marry her?” Brent asked, and then he rushed on when he saw the answer in Seth’s eyes. “Would you really want someone sleeping beside you when a nightmare wakes you up, a nightmare you can’t even talk about?”

  “If you love each other, you both owe it to yourselves to talk this out,” Seth insisted. “How can you say you lov
e her, but then not give her any choices about her own future?”

  Brent just shook his head. “Please.” His voice softened. “Can we please end this discussion?”

  “Suit yourself.” Seth rested his hand on the doorknob. “But if I were you I would at least talk to her.”

  Brent watched him leave, grateful that he closed the door behind him. He leaned back in his chair and just let himself stare into space. Seth doesn’t understand, he told himself. He was doing Amy a favor by leaving her alone and letting her get on with her life. He shut his eyes against the images Quinn had painted of Amy dancing with a bunch of other men. She’s better off without me, he assured himself. She couldn’t possibly be happy married to a Navy SEAL. Eventually he would get over her. After all, supposedly time heals all wounds. He very nearly believed it.

  CHAPTER 27

  Her training was nearly done. Amy walked beside her escort through the halls of the original headquarters building of the Central Intelligence Agency. They passed by the wall where portraits of past directors hung neatly and then turned the corner and moved through the glass-encased hallway to the new headquarters building.

  Today she would finally get to work on a case that related to her new job. Even though she had done well in her training, doubts were creeping in as the day drew closer that she would start working with Brent’s unit. She knew now that he didn’t want to see her. Of that she had little doubt. She just had to figure out a way to live with his decision.

  Her heart ached, something she had never known was physically possible. She forced herself to go through each day wondering if she could possibly do this job knowing that she would have to see Brent every day. After the time they had spent together, she knew he cared for her, at least to some extent. She just hadn’t wanted to consider that he really might not be the marrying type.

  With four of the five men in his unit single, she wondered now if all of them kept their relationships from getting too serious because they knew their careers would always come first. For all she knew, Brent had backed off from her because he didn’t want things to get too serious. She wondered if he knew that she had already completely fallen for him.

  Over a month had passed and she hadn’t heard anything from him—not even a courteous phone call to let her know he was okay. She thought that maybe she could have convinced herself that he was just on assignment somewhere if she hadn’t seen his friends at the dance.

  After talking with Seth, she had made some casual inquiries as to how many positions existed like the one she was slated to fill. She had found that there were three others that were currently vacant, but the one with Brent’s unit held the highest priority.

  Understanding that she would be filling an important role within that unit, she had decided to take the job and then request a transfer as soon as someone else became available who was qualified to replace her. All of the other open positions were located in California rather than Virginia, but she was willing to make that move if it meant she wouldn’t have to face Brent every day.

  She tried to push him out of her mind as she was shown to a conference room. A woman was already sitting at the table with a file open in front of her. When she noticed Amy, she stood up and moved to shake her hand. “You must be Amy. I’m Glenna.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Let me show you what we’ve got here.” Glenna motioned for her to sit down and slid a file to her. “Basically, we’re taking the raw intelligence on a recent case and preparing an intel report as though we are getting ready to send a SEAL unit into a combat situation.”

  “So this is like a test, to see if I can put the pieces together?” Amy asked.

  Glenna nodded. “In a manner of speaking. Management likes to conduct these reviews every so often to help evaluate our intelligence-gathering and interpretation processes. I was chosen to help you because I just transferred from another office and I don’t have any firsthand knowledge either. The combat situation is an actual scenario that the unit you will be working with went through recently.”

  Amy pulled a notepad out of her briefcase as Glenna gave her some basic instructions. A few minutes later she sat down and started reading through the first file. She noticed a date, realizing that this must have been the mission that had called Brent away so suddenly when they were at the movies together.

  Other than breaking for lunch, the two women worked silently beside each other throughout the morning and into the afternoon. Only an hour after lunch Glenna closed her file and pushed back from the table. “I’m done except for typing up my report. Are you close to being finished?”

  Amy nodded. “I’m getting there.”

  “Go ahead and use that computer when you’re ready,” Glenna said, pointing to a PC in the corner of the room. “I’ll be back to check on you when I finish.”

  Amy nodded and turned back to finish reading the bio on Fahid Ramir and his family. She scribbled a few more notes and then moved across the room to type up her report. She tried to imagine what Brent and his team would need to know if they were going into a potentially hostile situation. The answer was simple: everything.

  Once she got started, everything just flowed from her mind to her fingertips and finally into the computer. When Glenna came in, Amy didn’t break stride, afraid that she might lose her train of thought as she approached her conclusions. Ten minutes passed before she finally finished and turned to see Glenna sitting at the table waiting for her.

  “Done?”

  “I think so,” Amy said, and she hit the print button. “Now what?”

  “Now we get to meet with someone familiar with this situation and defend our findings.” Glenna told her.

  With a nod, Amy collected her report from the printer. She skimmed over it while Glenna went to find the person they were supposed to meet with next. Amy stood when Glenna returned with a man in his forties. She introduced him simply as Kyle.

  Kyle motioned for Glenna to sit down next to Amy, and he chose a seat across the table from them. “Glenna, why don’t you go first.”

  Glenna nodded, beginning by going over the basics, when the yacht had set sail, who was rumored to be on board, the eyewitness account that Ramir had been seen on board before the yacht set out. She then went on to make her assumptions, many of them based on the interview with an eyewitness.

  As Glenna continued, Amy started to question whether she had read too much into the reports. Her list of assumptions, or rather possibilities, was extensively longer than Glenna’s, and their analyses of how many people were on board varied greatly.

  When finally Glenna finished, Kyle turned to Amy. “How does your report compare to Glenna’s?”

  Amy glanced over at Glenna, recognizing that Glenna had significantly more experience and was more likely to have made an accurate analysis. For a brief moment, Amy was tempted to say that their reports were similar, but she just didn’t have it in her to lie. “Actually, we have a lot of differences.”

  Kyle nodded and leaned forward. “I know it’s difficult, but try to pretend that you haven’t already heard Glenna’s analysis and tell me what you think.”

  “Our basic facts agree,” Amy started. “But I’m concerned about what time the yacht set out. Leaving in the middle of the night suggests that something was going on they didn’t want anyone to see.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know exactly,” Amy admitted, and she flipped to the second page of her report. “The receipt from the local market makes me think that we are dealing with at least twice as many people as what the eyewitness reported. And they ordered hot dogs and macaroni and cheese.”

  “Hot dogs?” Kyle asked, an eyebrow lifting.

  Amy nodded. “According to the bio on Ramir, all of his children are already grown, and none of them have children of their own. It makes me ask why he would order hot dogs, especially since its doubtful his family would eat pork because of their religion. Besides, that isn’t something that one would usuall
y find on the menu on board a luxury yacht.”

  “If you had to speculate, what does this tell you?”

  “It tells me that someone else was on board besides Ramir’s family, most likely including at least one child between the ages of two and ten. The hour they departed suggests that some of the people on board may not have been there of their own free will.”

  Kyle nodded and pushed back from the table. “Thank you, ladies. I think I have heard enough.”

  “Did you want us to consolidate our reports?” Glenna asked, also standing.

  Kyle shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll just take a copy of your individual reports.”

  Amy shuffled her notes together and slipped them into a file along with the finished copy of her report. “Is that it for today?” she asked Kyle.

  “Yes. Glenna can show you out, and then I believe you will report to your new job tomorrow.” Kyle walked to the doorway and then turned back. “By the way, the child was nine.”

  Amy smiled, pleased that her analysis hadn’t been completely off after all. As she studied Kyle’s face and realized he had used past tense when he referred to the child, her smile faded. “Was?”

  Kyle gave a brief nod and continued out of the room.

  Amy felt a wave of grief wash over her as she thought of the child whose life had been cut short. Her next thought was of Brent. He had been there. He knew that an innocent life had been taken, and he had had more than just a brief mention of the tragedy. He had lived it.

  Beside her, Glenna turned to face Amy. “Is he saying that a child was killed because no one noticed hot dogs on the grocery list?”