He did his thing and turned big brown eyes, so liquid, so innocent, so sweet, on me and whimpered. “Oh, shhh, come to me, honey, I can’t walk that far.” I made little kissing noises and grinned at the little rottie butt wag.
Robbie walked around the corner, stooped and picked up the puppy, and handed him over. “The Colonel heard you lost Rage. He had one of the newbies find a pup. Brought him with us. What are you going to name him, Poppet?” His slight British accent made itself known.
“I don’t know. I’ll think of something by morning.” I put my hands out.
“Have you forgiven me yet?” Robbie moved close, gently handing over the pup.
“Yes. I know why you made those choices, Robbie. I really do.” I pulled the warm body close, grinning when he licked my chin. “It was long ago. You’re still my friend.”
“The Colonel found some interesting intel about your friend, Gage Wheeling. I think you might want to be careful around that one.” He leaned against the doorframe.
“Did he tell you?” I raised an eyebrow.
He laughed, “Right, Mr. Tightlipped Terminator? No, he didn’t. As a matter of fact, he’s keeping it pretty close to the vest. But I do know once he got in the kitchen, he cussed up a storm, and Gage’s name was mentioned more than once.”
“He’s not going to like you telling me that,” I giggled.
“No, he’s not. Karen?” He waited until I faced him, “I’ve got your back this time. I promise you, I’ll die before you go through something like Iraq again. Fallujah screwed with all of us, and I made bad choices. I should have stuck with you, not leave to play hero.”
Some of the old feelings of betrayal seeped to the front of my mind, “No, Robbie, we all made stupid decisions. I lived. The ones you need to apologize to are buried in Arlington.” I gave him a small smile. “Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I left him standing in the doorway, taking the puppy to the bathroom with me. I shut the door and set the pup on the brown rug. Despite more than a decade since the incident in the small hut in Fallujah, I could still feel the betrayal as I watched Robbie leave all of us in the middle of the firefight, bullets flying in the dark, my ass on the ground, a bullet in my left thigh. He’d gone to try and cut down the sniper who’d taken out our Humvee. He’d left us to die as he pursued the label of “hero.”
Chapter Twenty
The pup woke several times during the night, and I smiled. He liked to cuddle against the back of my legs, much like my beloved Rage. The reminder of seeing Rage’s slit throat caused my heart to skip a beat. I missed the damn dog, his antics, and the growling conversations late at night. A hand instinctively sought out the feel of soft ears and found puppy fur. The sensation caused my body to sink a little further into the mattress.
Dawn broke, easy and soft. I grabbed the crutches, and took the pup outside.
“I really need to figure out a name for you, little guy.” I watched as he did the twelve week old pup waddle to the grass on the far side of the deck. I grinned at the whimpering while he sniffed the grass to find the perfect spot.
“Make it a good one, Ms. Karen.” The voice startled me, causing loss of balance. A pair of hands grabbed my arms, and I glanced into the face of one of Chuck’s guys. “Do you remember me?” He tilted his head a little.
Memories of sand, rapid gunfire, yelling, darkness, and his face in the bright flashes of firing M16s slid past my line of sight. “Aiden? Is that right?”
He smiled, “Yes. Wasn’t sure you would, considering that night. When the Colonel called us up, we all jumped at the chance to help you out.”
Aiden was ordinary looking, nothing stood out. Brown hair matching brown eyes, about six foot, medium build. Until you looked into his eyes, extreme intelligence shone bright enough to blind a person.
“Thanks, Aiden. I can’t say it enough,” I returned the smile.
He nodded, and ensuring I had my balance, left. Like clockwork, men passed at intervals of three minutes. I turned and looked at the roof, finding a man squatting on the highest point, holding a sniper rifle and doing sweeps. His sight stopped on me, and I nodded once. He moved on. An acknowledgement.
I grabbed the pup and went inside. Looking in the mirror, I smiled at the severe bedhead, puffy eyes and dark circles. Thank goodness the men had seen me in worse shape.
I dressed in jeans, t-shirt and boots. I needed to visit Five. The intention was announced at the breakfast table, and Chuck nodded at Aiden. I frowned at Chuck.
“He’s from Montana, grew up on a ranch, and understands livestock. He’s the least likely to interfere with you and Brent. But you go nowhere without protection. At lunch, I want to debrief you on what I’ve learned, got it?” He raised an eyebrow.
I nodded, quelling the urge to salute and yell emphatically, “Yes, sir!” The old habit made me smile. His lackeys cleared the table, spread out paperwork, and Chuck was lost to reading from a stack of folders.
Brent stood, taller than most of the men, although a lot leaner. He waited for me, and I grabbed the crutches. Robbie spoke up, “No. You need to get your strength back, use the cane. I have no doubts Middleston and Brent can help if needed.”
I bit back a retort. A quick glance said I had plenty of hands to help, many of which I’d helped in some form or another. I grabbed the cane and limped to the stables, the little rottie gamboling beside me.
Five stood in the same place, shuddering, and tossing his head. I whistled, made a few clicking noises, and he turned the good eye to see me. He was going to have good and bad days.
I spent hours with him, coaxing him to eat a small bucket of oats, touching constantly. I talked low, with intermittent whistles, and led him to water, muzzle to my spine, mimicking my every step. As he drank, Brent handed over a soft bristled brush and I tried to give him a light grooming. I cried at the scars, the injuries, he hadn’t deserved any of it. Why did they want him so badly?
“Did the vet come out recently?” I looked at Brent.
“Vet’s been out twice this week. It’s a matter of weight and keeping Five from being dehydrated at this point,” he moved closer to the stallion. “The vet recommends gelding him. He’ll never be able to live breed.” Brent pointed to Five’s groin area.
I bent over, with Middleston’s hands on my waist for balance. It was foreign and wrong, but I endured to see what Brent pointed at.
I winced. Scars covered Five's belly, crossed the groin, and spilling down the inside of his legs.
“Set it up. When he’s gained at least three hundred pounds. Say a month or two?” I looked at Brent.
“If you don’t mind, ma’am, but he’ll need to be at normal weight. They will have to put him out, as he won’t be truly approachable for at least a year,” Middleston spoke up.
I turned around at his voice. It was soft, deep, but carried easily. “Have you dealt with traumatized horses before?”
“Yes, ma’am. Had a bear ransack our stables once.” He held on until I had balance, then stepped back and out of my personal space.
I nodded, understanding. That would definitely spook a few horses. Hell, it would have spooked me for months. “Okay, what he,” I pointed a thumb in Middleston’s direction, “said. Tell the vet. As long as it doesn’t get infected, we’ll leave him intact. Damn it, he passed on some wonderful characteristics.”
The sound of gunfire from the house whipped me around and I dropped to the ground, crawling in the sand to the fencing. Brent led Five behind the hay feeder, and Middleston remained next to me. More gunfire, yells, and two screams of pain ripped through the air. The new guy crawled over me, covering my body with his, while managing to shoulder an M16, and keep his weight off me.
“Be th-till,” he whispered. Damn, the boy even knew the “s” sound carried easily. I liked him more and more.
I relaxed into the ground, giving him more maneuverability, tilting my head to see.
The gunfire intensified, and around the back of th
e house I could see shapes moving rapidly, in formation, wearing all black, as a team. The choreographed movements meant they’d been well trained.
“Ours?” I asked.
“No.” Middleston reached into his black BDU pant side pocket, pulling out a scope. He attached it and sighted the back of the house. “Son of a bitch. We have to get you out of here. Now.” He put on the safety, threw the M16 onto his back, crawled off using toes and elbows, grabbed my ankle and pulled. “Come on, Karen, all of us have to get out of here. The Germans have arrived.”
My eyes widened to the point of pain, and I backed it all the way to the water trough. Middleston and Brent picked me out of the sand, and I whistled low to Five. We left the paddock and into the south pasture. I had a lean-to in a corner, to hide us temporarily from the men. I noticed movement to the left and turned to find the new puppy. I grabbed him, holding the body close.
The sniper on the roof steadily picked off man after man, but it was too many. Three tore through my French doors, and the house was no longer mine. Something inside broke. My house wasn’t safe, hadn’t been for a long time, and it ripped through me. The one place I counted on, for comfort and peace, would no longer feel the same. I looked at the mountains.
I was located only five miles from the foothills, five minutes by truck, twenty minutes by horse, but it was no use. Five couldn’t make it, and I couldn’t get to the vehicles.
I heard Middleston whisper into a tactical throat mic, nod once, give a quiet affirmative and turn to me.
“Go into the barn. The Colonel says there is an underground bunker.” He pointed two fingers at the north side of the barn.
“No there isn’t. I’ve lived here my whole life and never found anything to indicate a facility under the stable.”
“Research of your father. Go.” He fell into his thighs, put a shoulder into my stomach and lifted. I held the puppy and gripped his belt. I whistled for Five Alarm to follow. I wasn’t going anywhere without them.
Middleston was stronger than he looked. He did a low run for the broadside of the barn, barely bouncing me. Brent kept a hand over Five’s muzzle, and we made it without alerting the invaders. My carrier stealthily moved us to the east side and inside. Several horses peeked over their doors, but didn’t make a sound. I was carried into the office and through the closet door. I watched around Middleston’s waist as he reached over the janitorial supplies, feeling the edge of the back wall. He grunted once, pushed and released.
The closet was huge, approximately ten by twenty, and used for storage. When the wall swung out, I gasped. Brent didn’t say a word, grabbed Five’s chin and made him follow us into the short passageway leading into an industrial elevator.
“Put me down.” The puppy squirmed, but quieted. I was set gently on my feet, hands on my waist, as Brent easily worked the closet door shut and pushed several levers. We moved down a dark shaft. Brent and I needed to have a long, drawn out discussion.
Due to the lack of light, I couldn’t say for certain, but we’d dropped approximately twenty feet. A door opened into a huge room made of concrete and steel. Lights flickered, Five strangely calm. Middleston grabbed around my waist and half carried me inside.
I barely kept my jaw from dropping. The interior was vast, with several separate areas, one containing outdated seventies era equipment, several conference tables and two offices at the end.
“What in the hell?” I whispered.
Brent looked away, “Your father had many secrets.”
I glared, “How the hell would you know?”
Clearing his throat, he led Five to steel, double doors at the far side of the room. I lurched after him.
“I asked a question and think I deserve an answer, damn it,” I grabbed his arm. Too weak to force him to turn around, I leaned on Five to keep from falling over. I slapped away Middleston’s hand.
Brent stopped before the doors, one hand ready to push it open. “I knew your father a long time ago. He asked a favor, and since I owed him my life, I promised. I’m keeping that promise.” He released Five and pushed both doors open.
They led into a hallway, lights flicking on as we walked out of the initial room and turned left. Five didn’t make a sound. He’d been here before, enough to remain calm. The damn horse was more prepared than I was. It pissed me off.
Middleston was well armed, and as he passed, I grabbed the 9MM from his side, flipped off the safety and cocked it. Wasn’t necessary, but the sound echoed through the hallway.
“I want to know now.” All emotion fell to the wayside, easily falling into old habits. “You won’t be the first, nor the last, man I’ve shot. Start talking.”
Brent didn’t look scared, more frustrated. I had nothing to give off a warning shot, any bullet would ricochet. I wanted to shoot him.
“Don’t threaten me with something you won’t do,” he snorted and turned away.
I heard an “oh, shit” from Middleston as I sighted the back of Brent’s thigh and fired. Five reared, Brent fell forward and Middleston moved away. Over the ringing in my ears from the shot, “I’m sorry, Brent. What was that?” I sighted his head. I’d had all I could take of men thinking to protect the little woman.
“You didn’t have to shoot me!” his yell echoed in the hallway. He held the injury, face a mask of pain.
“Never believe you know me well enough to say what I will and won’t do. I am always my father’s daughter. Now, how do you know this place? What was my father up to?” I shifted a little, a person can’t hold a shooter’s stance indefinitely, especially when weak.
Middleston grabbed a pack from the back of his belt, opening it to pull out first aid supplies. He went to work on Brent’s wound. “Nice shot, Karen.” Genuine admiration laced his tone.
Brent glared at me, and Five sidled to lean against a rounded concrete wall. “Your father was a well-respected agent for the NSA.”
“Excuse me?” I blinked rapidly.
Middleston interrupted, “I’m going to give you a morphine injection. Where is the medical facilities?” He gave Brent a pointed look.
“Down this hallway, at the junction go right, next junction is a left, and end of the hall.” Brent’s voice was strained, almost a whisper.
Middleston gripped Brent in a fireman’s hold and walked through the bunker according to directions.
I held Five around his withers, and we shuffled after Middleston. By the time we made the last turn, I was hanging on Five for all I was worth. My hip hurt, my ribs screaming and every muscle told me to sit down.
Inside the medical facility, I laid on a bed, trying to even my breathing. Five stood, nose to the ground, sweating and sides heaving. Middleston expertly sewed up Brent’s wound, gaze sliding to me on occasion. I waited.
“Where did you learn to shoot like that? The Colonel said you weren’t specifically trained, only that you were in the wrong place at the right time.” He cleaned the back of Brent’s thigh, carefully putting gauze over the wound.
“Daddy taught me.” I sat up, wincing.
“Not one to talk, eh?” He gave me an award winning smile.
“Not really,” I returned the smile. I wanted to feel attraction, but all I got was a hint of possible friendship.
I shuffled to a sink, found a plastic tub and filled it with cool water. I spilled half of it, but managed to get water to Five. He took up a lot of room, and it was the least I could do. I lay down and turned to watch Brent sleep.
Middleston finished and sat next to me. “More will be coming when they can. All of them know about the bunker. It’s what the Colonel wanted to talk to you about.”
“How does everyone but me know about it?” I frowned.
“I’ll let the Colonel explain. Meantime, there is a stable underground. We have to get the horse over there. It’s well fortified and kept stocked.” He did a little jump off the bed and held an arm out. I slid off, growling at the weakness I couldn’t seem to shake. He put an arm around my waist and pull
ed me close. I wrapped an arm around him, enjoying the feel of well-defined muscles. He must work hard to keep them. He walked around Five until I could grab the stallion’s chin and lead him out of the room.
How Middleston knew the way to the underground stables, but not the medical facility was a bit of a mystery. I said nothing. I wasn’t really walking, he held almost all of my weight by the time we’d approached another set of steel double doors. Five’s ear pricked up, and he nickered softly. We walked into the stable area and I stared.
The concrete walls of the room had been covered in cedar, leaving a wonderful smell to fill the space. On the far side stood fifteen large stalls, a large arena covered a good third of the room, and several storage areas took up a third wall. To my left stood a glassed in office complete with up to date computer equipment.
“Holy crap on a cracker. Was he waiting for the apocalypse?” I whispered.
“Again, let the Colonel explain,” he replied, taking us across the dirt covered arena and to the stalls at the back. Five tried to dance, but was too weak to be a nuisance. Middleston put us in front of a stall marked, “Five Alarm”, and opened the sliding door. Five walked in without any prompts.
“Hey, buddy, let us get some straw in there for you,” I talked to him as if he’d answer.
Twenty minutes later, Five munched hay in a stall filled knee high with straw.
I heard footsteps and turned. If it wasn’t for Middleston’s iron grip, I would have fallen over.
“Daddy?”
Chapter Twenty One
I stared. As the figure came closer, I realized the mistake. The man wasn’t my father, but he had an uncanny resemblance.
“No, Karen, I’m not your father,” his voice deep and rumbly.
“I really am not in the mood for more cryptic bull. Who are you and why do you look so much like my father?” I noted movement and looked behind the new guy. Several men followed him, and I frowned. Chuck moved to the front, to stand in front of me.
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