Protect and Serve: Soldiers, SEALs and Cops: Contemporary Heroes from NY Times and USA Today and other bestselling authors

by J. M. Madden

  “Of course. Thanks for—” His lips were over hers so fast he wasn’t able to finish. The traveling, the frantic phone call from last night, all his training and all the events of yesterday pushed back into the woods of his mind. It was as if they began right where they’d left off before all the drama. Before the paths they’d taken. The life they’d started separately suddenly seemed to merge into one.

  He felt himself falling again down a slope he didn’t want to recover from.

  Amy’s cell phone went off. Then it rang a second time. Amy was still returning his kisses.

  “Sweetheart. Might be your Dad. The police.” Zak separated them and smiled. He kissed her nose.

  Amy ran to the phone. “Dad? What did you find out?”

  Zak watched the slow long look she gave him, starting from his eyes, his chin and then his chest, down below his beltline, to his shoes and then slowly back up again. She angled her head in the opposite direction with a satisfied smile.

  She was nodding. “So all that’s good, right?”

  Zak walked to the sliding glass door and walked out on the deck. Sirens didn’t sound the same as they did in Sonoma County. They echoed and reverberated off the tall buildings. There was more traffic, and he was surprised to hear sounds of people talking as well as the sounds of the boats out on the water. A wind had picked up and was making whitecaps out on the blue bay.

  “No, Dad. That’s not necessary. I’m okay. You go on back up to Santa Rosa. I’m sure you have a lot to do up there. I’m available by phone anytime. And I’m secure here for now.”

  There was a pause. Zak could hear her father trying to work his way over into coming over.

  “Dad. Zak came up. He’s here.” She paused again. “Because I called him and asked him to. After I called you. He’s not staying long. I promise I’ll be safe.”

  Some of the old stiffness returned to Zak’s back and shoulders. Dobson would be not happy with this development.

  “No. This isn’t Zak inserting himself into my life. This is me asking for his help. This is my life, Dad. You do understand that, don’t you?”

  He could tell Dobson was irritated. He heard a slight edge to Amy’s voice.

  “No, Dad. My decision is final. He’s here, and he’s going to stay here for a day or two. That’s all. I’ll be in touch.” She sighed and added, “Yes, I’ll tell him.” Zak heard the phone shut off.

  Amy joined him at last. She slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow and leaned against him. He was going to let her tell him the message from her father. It was her story to tell. Her life. Right now, Zak was feeling like a fifth wheel, second guessing his decision to come up to San Francisco.

  “No real news. But Dad said to remind you of the request he made of you to leave me alone. He said you promised.”

  “I did.”

  “But that was before all of this. Before you went off to your training. Before a lot of things that have happened since.”

  “Yup. He might be right, Amy.”

  She turned toward him, leaning back to get a good view of his entire face. “You think so, Zak?”

  Zak slowly focused on her eyes, her lips, remembering the vision of her standing on the deck in the late morning sunshine. The woman he saw was different in some way. Stronger. More determined. She waited for him to respond, didn’t cut him off. She talked to him. It didn’t feel like she was pushing herself at him anymore, while he was having to spend all his time resisting her. That had been their game all growing up. Now he wasn’t fighting her, he was fighting with himself.

  “No. He’s not right, Amy. I don’t know what’s out there in the future, but being here, right now, seems pretty great to me. Seems like the place I need to be.”

  The path to her bedroom seemed to take forever, but Zak wasn’t complaining. It was the first time he’d been with her in a place of her own. It wasn’t the front of his pickup or on a blanket on some golf course lawn somewhere or even at a friend’s place for a stolen hour or two.

  Amy faced her bed, which was shaded in the long shadows of the morning, the sun having gone to the other side of the building. Zak was standing right behind her, his palms smoothing down the backsides of her thighs as she removed her sweatshirt and turned around in her bra. His fingers gently pushed the straps off her shoulders as he held her face under her jawline and placed a sweet kiss there. His lips found the place under her ear.

  She unbuttoned his shirt slowly, placing fingers against his tanned flesh, kissing him as more of his chest was revealed to her. Slowly they finished disrobing. He let her first place the condom on him, and then they slipped under her cool sheets.

  Zak kissed her chest, down to her belly button and then went lower, kissing her at the top of her sex. His intense gaze focused on his fingers, now massaging her labia, pushing a finger or two inside her opening, then his thumb as he looked up at her before he bent to kiss her there.

  She arched at the touch of his tongue in such an intimate spot, at the feel of his probing fingers. Her lips began to swell and she felt her pulse quicken. The sounds of their limbs shifting over the cotton sheets punctuated by the sounds of his kisses sent her into euphoria. It was all real. She could hear the sounds of the boats and the fog horns, the traffic and the bells and chimes of the city as he tasted her, as she heard his soft groan and then watched as this muscled warrior traveled up to lay against her body. They fit so perfectly together.

  It was like her dream every night, what it would feel like to have Zak here with her, making love to her in her own bed on a lazy Sunday morning, as if there wasn’t anything else in the world to worry about, to concern herself with. The feel of his muscled shoulders and arms was delicious as her hands smoothed up and down. The way his knees separated her thighs, pressing his groin to her core as she rose up, set her heart on fire. With her head forward, they kissed again. She would have said something, wanted to say something, but hesitated.

  He spoke first. “Thank you for asking me to come to San Francisco. I wanted to see you. I should have called before—”

  He rooted to find her opening as her fingers covered his mouth, and she kissed him again.

  “Shhh. You’re here now. It’s perfect now, Zak. Truly perfect.”

  “Yes,” was all he said as he slid inside her. He watched her face as she stared back at him through watery eyes. She closed her eyes and held her breath, feeling her breasts press against his chest as his cock filled her fully. He kissed her lids like he was begging her attention. Back and forth, their movements were long and unhurried. She studied his stubbled chin, the way his clear eyes washed her with passion, the hair falling over his forehead, the way the muscles in his back rippled as she felt the power of him.

  Her body was falling in slow motion as they moved in time together. He brought her to her stomach. She placed a pillow under her abdomen as he mounted her from behind. She loved the feel of his heavy breathing at the sides of her face as he kissed her neck, elevated her hips with his hands and plunged in deep. She splayed her knees, needing more of him, not ever being able to get enough.

  Slowly her orgasm built as they lay on their sides, her knee over his hip. She threw her head back as she exploded, shattering into spasms that shook her whole body. He held her hips with his hands until, side by side, she felt him pulse into her.

  An hour later, they were still entangled together on the bed, hot sweat now dried. A cool breeze drifted from the living room door left open.

  TWELVE

  Hassan shaved off most of his hair, but not his chin hair. The face that stared back at him from the cracked mirror did not look like the face on his passport. His parents even would not recognize him. If he were a woman, he could use makeup and trace his eyes, change their shape and wear something to color his lips. But this would have to do for now.

  He’d hoped to receive confirmation a gift would be waiting for his parents in Aden, but nothing had come. He’d tried several numbers given to him, but no one was answering
.

  The news reports listed his younger brother’s picture which was undoubtedly going to lead to him, since the two shared a flat in East Oakland. He doubted the baker where they worked would reveal much, if anything. Besides, all of his contacts happened at the coffee house, not at his place of employment.

  He’d cleaned up at the bus terminal, washing his hands and face in the restroom filled with sleepers. The place was not a stranger to bloody handprints either. He wetted down his hair and put up his hoodie, making it over to the home of his friend, where he told him a fake story about how he’d been robbed and needed a place to crash for the night. He knew his friend worked late nights at a restaurant, so when he went to work, Hassan went on a search of things he could take with him. That’s when he discovered the clippers.

  His friend didn’t have anything in his kitchen, except for a few pickled grains he could take. He knew he couldn’t trust the man. He didn’t own a television, but that wouldn’t stop him from seeing Hassan’s face plastered on TVs all over the city. He knew the ferries and busses had cameras, as well as some of the busy street corners. He was better off staying off the street until he could properly disguise himself.

  Hassan’s cell rang. After their customary greeting the voice was terse and angry.

  “You dimwit.”

  “Did the money get sent?”

  “No. You haven’t finished the job.”

  “Sorry? The statement was made.”

  “Yes. But you were seen. You’ll be caught.”

  “No. I will take my own life first. First I want to be sure my parents got the money.”

  “You must not be caught.”

  “I vow I will not be caught alive. What must I do?”

  “You have to eliminate the woman who saw you.”

  “How do I do this?”

  “You remember where you saw her. The newspaper says she worked at one of the building near the Ferry Terminal. You know it?”

  “I—I don’t remember very well. I could retrace my steps. But wouldn’t that be risky? And the door was locked. How would I get inside the door of her office?”

  “Not my problem, Hassan.”

  “But we have sacrificed our brother already, please.”

  “I’m telling you it isn’t good enough. You have to make it look like they can’t get away. It’s the statement. You find her, you take care of it. You both go with God.”

  Hassan’s stomach clenched. He knew he had to leave soon. Morning would bring his friend back home, and it would be too dangerous to trust him.

  “You still have the devices?”

  “Yes, I have three of them left.”

  “Good. So you find a way inside that building, you find her. I will make arrangements for the money transfer.”

  “But how will I know?”

  “How do I know you’ll do your duty?”

  Hassan wanted to protest, but he knew it was a losing argument.

  “You make a statement. If you get the girl, your parents get the money. No other way, Hassan. Either way, you’ll be looking down from Paradise. You’ll be in the garden, my friend.”

  After he hung up, he checked his canvas bag. The three little IEDs were tightly wrapped in plastic, then put into boxes with bubble wrap to make sure they didn’t detonate before he wanted them to. He’d hold one, clutching the bag, and holding the woman by the hair, and he’d send them all away. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind. It was going to be the only thing he thought about. No reason to store up provisions, food or things to seek comfort. All this would be over in a day, maybe less. He’d have his reward, and the things of this earth—all the anger and the pain, the despair of his life—would be gone forever. It was a fair tradeoff.

  THIRTEEN

  Zak woke up all of a sudden and wasn’t quite sure where he was. Then he remembered their long lovemaking. He felt her warm body against him, felt the sheets tangled around his legs. Her light brown hair was all over the pillow next to him as he cradled her into his chest. How he wished he could just stay inside all day and play, stay in her arms, love her over and over again.

  His forefinger rubbed along the arch of her ear, and he felt her squeeze his arm as she came to with a smile. She rolled over to face him.

  “Hi,” she said, looking all pink and radiant and more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. He knew a lot of things had changed, and he was seeing her colored in the light coming from his own eyes, a light that cast a rosy shadow over her and everything she was right now. This wasn’t something that had ever happened to him before. He knew that he would protect her if it was the last thing he ever did.

  “Amy, we have to make a plan.”

  “Okay, sailor. First you kiss me here,” she said as she pointed to her bare right breast.

  “Gladly. I intend to do much more than that, but I mean a plan about this guy, the shooter and what the police are working on.”

  She sat up and covered her chest with the sheet. Zak fingered the sheet down until she was sitting topless. “I like it better this way.”

  She leaned over and removed the sheet from his thigh and rear. “And I like it better that way.”

  He whipped the sheet off both of them, grabbed her and pulled her down onto the mattress again. So much for talking about a plan. Time to execute something important, something he didn’t have to think about first.

  AMY HEATED up some soup and made a small salad.

  “You hear from your building owner yet, Amy?” Zak asked.

  “No. I don’t think they’ll be in until tomorrow, but it’s odd. I mean, aren’t they contacted when something like this happens? Wouldn’t they have precautions? I just feel like I have no guidance.

  “Maybe call security?” he asked.

  Zak overheard Amy’s conversation with the guys at the front desk. None of them had been contacted further by the police, but they’d been pestered by news media, and several camera crews had been rushed out from the lobby after sneaking to talk to residents going and coming.

  “So can’t you guys get them to leave? Do they have the right to just barge in here? This is private property.”

  She listened further.

  “Well, give the police a call, then. I think the safety of the residents is primary. And what about the owners? Any word from them?”

  She shrugged, indicating to Zak the owners hadn’t made contact yet.

  “Who are these people?” Zak asked after she’d hung up.

  “I thought they were local people, but I guess not. Overseas investors, I’m thinking. The MegaOne Group is a California corporation, but that doesn’t mean all the owners live here.”

  “So what else did the guards have to say? Is there some protocol in place now, with all this going on? They have to have an emergency plan. It’s law.”

  “I guess it depends on what you call an emergency.”

  “So how would someone sneak into the building if they wanted to?” Zak could see the suggestion was unsettling to her. “Where could you go that’s safe, Amy?”

  “I have no idea. My place would be safe.”

  “What if they knew where you lived?”

  “How would he—you’re not really thinking he’d come here, are you?”

  “Well, let’s think about it. You’re living in the middle of several blocks of people who work, live and play all around you. Lots of strangers. Lots of places to hide.”

  “But he’d have to know what apartment I lived in. That’s not posted anywhere.”

  “Who would know?”

  “The guards. They wouldn’t let anyone who didn’t live here—”

  Zak tilted his head to the left. “The guards? How effective do you think they’d be against terrorists? Tell me honestly, do they look like they have any military training, Amy? Honestly?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Exactly. So what do you think?”

  “It’s a big assumption. You assume he’d go to the trouble to find me, where I live. I jus
t don’t think the world works that way. Maybe in the movies. But in real life? Do you honestly think he’d be stupid enough to come back here, knowing I could recognize him?”

  “We’re not talking about fantasyland, Amy. This is the real world. So humor me, where would you go if you couldn’t come here?”

  “There’s a theater. A public kitchen. Some conference rooms.”

  “Okay, the kitchen would have knives and things. Good. A conference room?”

  Zak shook his head. “No. You ever try to beat someone up with a wastebasket or a phone?”

  “I’m not trying to beat someone up. Besides, I’ll have you here.”

  “You own a gun?”

  “Fuck no.”

  Zak was actually sorry she didn’t.

  “Illegal in San Francisco.”

  “Which is why the shooting happened here, my guess.”

  “Did you bring one, Zak?”

  “No. I left all that behind. Not sure that was so smart.”

  Amy took their dishes to the sink. She turned around. “I guess the gym on the ninth floor, just below us, would be safe. He’d need a key card to get in.” She showed him the ring with her two key cards on it. “I keep one here at all times, the other one goes with me everywhere.”

  “So he’d steal one.”

  “The gym has some places to hide, maybe. Some hand weights and equipment, maybe. Ropes. What do you think?”

  Zak stood up and gave her a hug. “That’s my girl.”

  The security desk called and asked Amy to come down to pick up a form the owners had faxed into the guard station and wanted her to fill out. At about the same time, Zak got a call on his cell from San Diego. He began updating his liaison on the situation and confirming he arrived safely as Amy grabbed her card and held her finger up.

  “Wait, I’ll go with you,” said Zak as he cradled the phone.

  “No. We have no reception in the elevators. I’ll be right back.”

  Amy was out the door before he had time to protest. He finished his call and sat back. He knew he’d just screwed up letting her leave.