They walked together to his quarters, chatting the entire way. Abbey studied him as he talked about his home. Despite his amiable nature at the moment, she still didn’t quite trust him. Something about him made her uneasy.
Torelli opened the door for her, pressing his hand to her lower back to escort her in. As she passed, his fingertips grazed her butt. He smiled at her. Abbey shrugged off any apprehension. Here she was in Torelli’s barracks. She was going to do far more than video chat. Her eyes darted around the room. She was certain he was still behind the smuggled weapons. Something in here had to confirm it. The room darkened as the door shut behind them. He weaved around her to the laptop sitting on a chair. He motioned to the neatly made bed before picking it up. “Have a seat.”
Abbey glanced warily at the mattress. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Abbey, I know I’ve come onto you. For good reason. You’re incredibly beautiful. But am I going to risk your husband coming in to find me trying to get you into bed? Absolutely not. I’m not stupid. He’ll kill me. It’s the most comfortable place to sit. So do it. Sit.”
Abbey hesitantly settled on top of the covers as he handed her the computer. It was already booting up. Once she reached the desktop, she clicked on the Internet and brought up Skype, logging in the moment it popped up. Dialing her mother, she breathed a silent prayer that Mary was home.
“Abbey, what a surprise!” Mary greeted. “Your Dad said you couldn’t contact us. Is the mission over?”
“Not yet, Mom,” Abbey answered. “A friend of mine arranged this for me. Where are my kids?”
Mary laughed. “Hold on. Ame! Ethan! Come here. Guess who’s on the computer?”
Abbey could hear the scamper of little feet approaching. Neither child was in the screen when she heard them squeal. “Mommy!”
“Hey, you too,” Abbey near squealed herself. “How are you doing? Are you being good for Grandpa and Grandma?”
“Yes,” Ethan gushed, as his little cheeks turned pink.
So, no…
“Where’s Daddy?” Ame insisted.
“Daddy’s busy right now. He wanted me to tell you both that he loves you. So, what’s new? Tell me everything.”
She listened to them both chatter over each other. She giggled as one would get a little louder to drown out the other, until each was nearly shouting. Mary stood and walked out of the screen, but returned shortly, sitting back down with Colin on her lap. Abbey’s heart nearly burst. Seeing all three of her children together, even through the computer, was the happiest she had been in a long time.
Abbey didn’t know how long she was on the video chat. She glanced up occasionally to see Torelli sitting in the chair the laptop had once occupied, engrossed in his smart phone. Whatever was there kept his full attention. It seemed like life or death. She smiled in his direction several times, if he saw her or not. He would never know how grateful she was.
Finally, she said her goodbyes to Mary and the kids, telling them just how much she loved them all. She logged off the site and booted down the computer.
“Done?” Torelli questioned, as he looked up from his cell.
Abbey sighed. “Yes. Thank you. I really needed that.”
“Good.” He stood and took the laptop from her. Helping her to her feet, he showed her to the door. Abbey offered him an appreciative smile. She gasped as he pulled her into a bear hug. She could hear the low primal growl from his throat. She knew that sound. It regularly came from Sloan just before he pinned her to the wall, wrapped her legs around his waist, and made love to her. It was definitely time to leave.
Abbey skipped off to dinner then back to her barracks. She spent the evening curled up in bed with a book she had borrowed from one of the other girls. Whispers hit her ears as the other women passed by. They stared at her. Abbey frowned back at them. What can possibly be up now? She shrugged it off. After talking to her children, nothing could bring her down.
Sloan’s bark woke her up the next morning, as it had every morning. But this time, his voice held violence. Abbey blinked her sleepy eyes open. The look in his ice-blue ones was undeniable. She had never seen him so furious. “What is it?”
“Get. Out. Of. Bed,” he spat out through clenched teeth before storming out.
She cautiously sat up and tossed off her covers. Seeing every pair of eyes in the room on her, she dressed quickly and dashed out.
Abbey barely made it out the door before she found Sloan waiting for her. He was tense, ready to strike, with several photos clenched in his hand. Several other soldiers were mulling about like every other morning. She looked at him, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
Sloan tried to speak then let out an aggravated laugh. “First, the dance instructor. Then, the tile guy. Now, Torelli. You just can’t keep your pants on, can you?”
“Wait. What are you talking about?”
“This is what I’m talking about.” Sloan shoved the pictures under her nose.
Abbey took them from him. She gasped at the images of her and Torelli stepping into his barracks, including one with his hand on her rear. She knew how it had to look to Sloan. “Torelli was letting me use his laptop to video chat with Ame, Ethan, and Colin.”
“You were in there for over an hour,” Sloan accused. “How long does it take to video chat with children?”
“Call Mom. Call Gordon. They can tell you.”
“You were ordered to have no communication with anyone outside this camp. You expect me to believe Torelli, who is very aware of this, would assist you in breaking that command?”
“I didn’t sleep with Torelli. Ask him. Why can’t you trust me? I could never dream of being with another man. Believe in me please.”
“Trust me, Torelli and I will be having a little chat.” Sloan’s voice ran deep with viciousness.
“Sloan…”
Sloan’s hardened face turned into a snarl. “I’m beginning to believe the biggest mistake I ever made was marrying you.”
Abbey gaped at him, dumbfounded. “You can’t possibly mean that.”
“I do. My life was far simpler without you.”
Abbey fought back tears as she stared at him. She glanced around at the crowd that had gathered, including Torelli, Lathrop and Bartholomew. She sniffled back her sobs then lifted her head defiantly. “Excuse me, sir. I have to return to duty.” She spun on her toe, clenching her rifle in one hand and the bag containing her ammunition and the pink paintballs in the other. Her eyes were pinned to the hills as she fled.
She loaded the gun in silence and settled on her belly, tossing the cover over her. Her eyes burned. Mistake? She had always believed Sloan had felt that way. But why did he finally have to confess it in front of the entire camp? Why did he wait until we had three kids at home waiting for us?
Marrying him had been a favor for him to get a green card so many years ago. If anyone had made a mistake, it was her, not Sloan. She should have known the smooth-talking millionaire, now billionaire, was too good to be true.
The sound of steps in the dirt didn’t distract her. She kept her eyes trained on the buildings and people below. I should shoot Sloan in the butt…
“Abbey, he didn’t mean it,” Bartholomew pleaded.
“Yes, he did, B. I’ve suspected it since New York City. I was stupid to think this wouldn’t end up a disaster. He just could’ve waited until we got home to finally say it.”
Bartholomew sat beside her then reached out, rubbing her shoulder in comfort. “He shouldn’t have made a scene. I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. You didn’t deserve any of that.”
Abbey’s laugh sounded heartbroken, even to her own ears. “I probably did, somehow.”
“Go down. I’ll cover your shift. Go hit him or something.”
“I’d rather be up here away from him. But thanks.”
“No problem.”
They sat the rest of the day on the ridge in silence. Abbey tried to keep her mind on the task at hand. Sloa
n’s voice echoed in her head. Part of her hoped he would apologize when she returned to camp, that he would plead for her forgiveness. Would she forgive him? She wasn’t sure she could right away.
Not that she believed he would. Sloan rarely admitted when he was wrong, and he probably wouldn’t start now.
Bartholomew descended the hill after their shift with her, not bothering to wait for Will to replace him. He didn’t allow her to return to her barracks, but instead, redirected her to the mess hall for something to eat. Abbey chose a sandwich and an apple, but couldn’t stomach either. Only after Bartholomew insisted did she take a bite or two.
Once they finished eating, Bartholomew told her good night and promised to check on her later. She watched as he walked in the direction of the command center. She sighed sadly then wandered away. Seeing Sloan ahead of her, she redirected her steps toward the north part of the camp.
Abbey finally let her tears get the better of her as she slumped against one of the large metal shipping containers. Covering her face with her hands, she cried softly until her dreaded hiccups started.
“Everything all right?”
Abbey’s head snapped up to find Torelli standing there, hands resting on his hips. She rubbed the tears from her cheeks. No way would she show weakness to this man. “Fine. I’m fine.”
“I can’t see how. Especially with what Sloan said to you. I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible.”
“Yeah, well, you’re in those photos too.”
“True. Look, it’s going to be hell for you to stay here with him while you finish this mission of yours.”
“Yeah, so?”
“What if I could fix it?”
“How?”
“A bunch of our men are going home tomorrow. A transport is coming to get them. Go with them. I’ll talk to Lathrop and arrange it. He likes me. He’ll listen. Go home to your children and get away from your son of a bitch husband, who treats you like dirt.”
“But I can’t…”
“Why not? What is your essential part of this mission? To fire a shot if, and when, you find whoever is doing this? Evans can do that.”
“But the CIA…”
“Lathrop will smooth over everything with Dunham.”
Abbey looked at him skeptically. “Why would you do this for me?”
Torelli grinned at her. “Abbey, I think you’re sexy. I won’t deny it. But I also appreciate your pure heart of gold. I don’t want to see you suffer here with that bastard. Granted, I can’t help you when you get home. But you should have plenty of time to hire a divorce attorney. Am I right?”
“I wouldn’t go that far yet. But yes, I’d like to get out of here.”
“Great. Meet here at six. The trucks will take you to the airplane that will fly you to Okinawa. Next stop after that—Minneapolis.”
Abbey smiled hesitantly at him. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Now, get to bed. You have an early morning.”
“Sure thing.” She offered him a small smile before she walked away. She knew he wasn’t doing this out of the goodness of his heart. She was far from trusting him. But for the chance to see her children, to get away from Sloan, she was willing to take the risk.
Abbey crawled under the covers, but couldn’t sleep. She was anxious to escape Afghanistan. She pictured each of her children in her mind, remembering their chatter, their giggles. She couldn’t wait to see them.
When the clock, lit by the moonlight, hit five the next morning, Abbey jumped out of bed and dressed. Her eyes kept nervously darting to the time. Her hands shook as she packed her few belongings, and her heart felt like it was about to explode out of her chest. Sloan would be arriving soon to wake her up. She had to be long gone before then. She sat back down on the mattress to tug on each boot then quietly dashed out the door.
The camp was nearly deserted as Abbey weaved around the buildings. Her eyes burned with tears as the metal shipping containers came into view. She didn’t want to walk out on her husband but she needed space. In just a little while, she’d be on a helicopter, heading home. Boy, Sloan will be pissed to find me gone. After what he sa—
Abbey didn’t hear the footsteps behind her until it was too late. Before she could turn to see who it was, she felt the bungee cord around her neck. She fought back, struggling to breathe, as the rope cut off her precious oxygen. Things around her grew fuzzy. As her knees gave, she fought for one last, big breath.
It was no use. Everything went black before she hit the ground.
Chapter Seven
Sloan stormed through the command center, biting back his snarls the best he could. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see three young female privates nearly swoon at his mere presence. Are you kidding me? I’m about to rip the roof off this bloody place, and they’re acting like lovesick puppies? This is ridiculous.
Sloan glanced across the room to find Bartholomew studying a computer screen and jotting in a notebook. He redirected his steps toward his friend. “Have you seen Abigail?” he barked.
Bartholomew glanced up to him. “Not since last night at dinner. Why?”
“She didn’t show up for her shift. I just got an earful from Lathrop about it. I’ve said from the beginning that she shouldn’t be here.”
“Well, with the way you treated her last night, what would you expect?”
“Are you saying this is my fault?”
“Sloan, you—”
They were interrupted by an outburst across the room. “There’s been an airplane shot down over the desert.”
Bodies sprung from their chairs and raced for the door. Sloan and Bartholomew followed them. Agent Dunham stalked outside as soldiers loaded the transports. “Where is that manifest?” he shouted.
“When did you get here, Dunham?” Sloan demanded.
“Last night. Most likely on that transport. If it’s the same transport, it had ours and Torelli’s men on it.”
“Going where?”
“A base in Okinawa. Then, most were heading home.”
A private scurried to the agent with the file. Dunham opened it, slowly scanning the names. He closed it. “Sloan.”
Sloan could hear the change in his voice. “What is it?”
Dunham didn’t answer. He handed the folder to Sloan without looking at the Irishman. Sloan ripped it from his hand. He didn’t have to search the list. His eyes locked on one name.
Abigail O’Riley.
Ice ran in his veins. “Get me to that transport.”
“Of course.”
Dunham, Sloan, and Bartholomew sprinted to the nearest truck. As the CIA agent sped down the road, Bartholomew leaned against the passenger seat. “Sloan, who was on that plane?”
Sloan handed the file over his shoulder to Bartholomew without turning around. He cringed as he heard it open. A long line of breathed curses followed. Sloan clenched his eyes shut. It can’t be true.
The plumes of black smoke painted the sky for miles around. They could see the flames leaping upward. Sloan felt a high charge course through his veins. This can’t be. It has to be a mistake.
When the truck crested the ridge of rock, the burning aircraft was in clear view. Flames leaped into the sky, so thick that the massive plane couldn’t be seen. Crews were already dousing it with water. Dunham pulled to a stop near the other parked vehicles. Sloan slowly climbed out, still clenching the folder in his hand. He wasn’t sure when Bartholomew and Agent Dunham had joined his side. He was numb, and his mind held only one thought. Abbey can’t be dead.
Sloan watched the fire rage as an unfamiliar chill froze his entire body. He tried to think, to reason. He knew the risks that accompanied his life. And this wasn’t the first time Abbey’s life had been threatened. We’ve always survived. We’ve always cheated death. I’m not ready to let her go. There has to be a mistake.
The day passed slowly. Sloan stood rooted in his spot as he watched the scene unfold. The sun was setting when, finally, the flames were put out
. Once it was safe, soldiers searched among the rubble for bodies and clues to explain what had happened. As night settled, a private carefully approached the three men.
“Report,” Agent Dunham demanded.
The soldier turned pale as he began to speak. “It was a surface-to-air missile. It tore a hole in the side of the aircraft.”
“Were there any survivors?”
The private shook his head. “No, sir.”
“Was there a woman’s body in there?” Sloan’s voice broke.
The young man stared at Sloan in silence. Hesitantly, he approached the Irishman, holding out his closed fist. He dropped an object into Sloan’s hand. Finally, he answered, “Yes, sir.”
Sloan’s heart seized in his chest as he looked down. Abbey’s dog tags. “Where’s the one attached on the smaller chain?”
“With the body, sir. So it can be identified when it’s flown back to the States.”
His mind went blank. For the first time since he could remember, he started to tremble. Through the deafening buzz in his ears, he could hear Bartholomew cuss again. Finally, he forced himself to speak. “I’m done, Dunham. You brought me on this damned mission, and it took the only thing I loved. I’m done.”
“Of course, Sloan. I’ll secure your transportation home. Go pack, and I’ll make sure you’re gone first thing in the morning.”
Sloan couldn’t look at either man as he spun back to the truck. His ego demanded that he stride to the vehicle. His heart, his soul, could barely manage a shuffle. He felt Bartholomew’s comforting hand on his shoulder. He managed a weak smile of thanks to his friend, but it was all he could do.
The ride back to the camp was silent. Sloan stared ahead at the rocky crags and miles of sand. His mind was void, as was his heart. Only three words pounded in his brain. Abbey is dead. He clenched his eyes shut to stop them, but they kept thundering.
Thankfully, the rows of buildings that had been his temporary home for the past few weeks came into view. Once the truck came to a stop, Sloan hopped out, making a direct shot for his barracks. Once he reached his bunk, he sank onto the mattress. Without thinking, he pulled his cell from his bag. He had been warned not to use his phone while on the mission. However, the mission was no more. He scrolled through the contacts and pressed Send.
The Assassin Page 10
