RYDER: A Standalone Military Romance (Blake Security Book 1)

by Celina McKane

  I shook my head. Blake was reaching his boiling point, and I was afraid of what would happen when he did. “Who’s in there?”

  “His name is Vladimir Kosovo. He’s an investigator in Czechoslovakia or something. He was in the US working a job or something. The boss knows him. He thinks he might be able to help y’all with your kidnapping case.”

  I wondered if that was what Blake wanted me for and if I should go in. I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with his wrath if he didn’t want me to interrupt though, so I waited. Lucy and I talked about baseball. She’s originally from California and a big San Francisco Giants fan. Her current boyfriend, a uniformed cop for the city, is a native of New Orleans, and since we have no professional teams, he’s an Atlanta Braves fan. She teases him relentlessly about how long it’s been since they’d won a pennant. She knows more about baseball than any woman I’ve ever met.

  “This is our year, you know.”

  “Your year?” I asked her.

  “To go to the World Series. We’ve gone every two years since 2010. This is an even year, so we’re going.”

  I tried to control my smile as I asked, “Is that a guarantee, or do they actually have to win a lot of games?”

  “They have won a lot of games. We’re leading in our league. The stupid Dodgers are close behind, but behind is the key word there.”

  I laughed. I was more of a football fan than baseball, but I could appreciate her devotion. “Well, I wish them luck. We wouldn’t want the stupid old Dodgers going instead.”

  She made a face like that would be the end of the world. “No way!”

  Before I could say anything else, the door to Blake’s office was pulled open, and as he held it, a big man with black and silver hair and a belly that lapped over his pants about four inches stepped out. He turned and held his hand out. Blake took it and they shook.

  “Thank you for coming by, Vlad. Oh, here is my partner. Ryder this is Vladimir Kosovo. He’s going to be helping us out on the Branson case.”

  I held out my hand and the big man took it. “Good to meet you and looking forward to working with you,” I said.

  “It’s good to meet you, too,” he said in a thick accent. His accent sounded a lot like Alicia’s.

  “Mr. Kosovo…”

  “Call me Vlad.”

  “Vlad, can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “Can you tell where in Russia a person is from by their dialect and the sound of their accent?”

  “Most of the time.”

  “Can I ask you what part of Russia you’re from, sir?”

  “I’m from Georgia,” he said.

  I heard Lucy snap her fingers behind me and say, “That’s it! Not Czechoslovakia! Georgia!”

  I fought another smile and said, “So would someone from a different region have a different accent than you, similar to the way it is here in the States?”

  “Yes, in most cases. It’s hard to decipher differences in most regions of the Soviet Union, but Georgia is entirely different. I’m not sure you want a history lesson, but I can tell you that Georgians even look different. My dark hair, skin, and eyes give me away when I’m in my country before I even open my mouth.”

  “Would people from Moscow sound like you?”

  “Not if they’d lived in Moscow their entire lives. Our accents—and even a lot of our dialect are as different as our hair, eye, and skin coloring.”

  I thought about Alicia’s dark hair and tan skin, but I wasn’t going to rush to judgment. She said she was from Moscow, but that doesn’t mean her parents weren’t Georgian. Part of being an investigator was knowing what to address immediately and what to file away for later. “Thank you, sir,” I told Vlad.

  He smiled and said, “My pleasure. Blake has my number if you think of anything you need. I’ll be in and out of the country with this case I’m working on, but I’ll do my best to get back to you as quickly as I can.”

  “Good, thank you.”

  After he left, Blake said, “What was that about?”

  I shrugged. “I was just wondering about the kidnappers,” I half-lied. “Did they cut the one from last night loose yet?”

  Blake looked at his watch. “About an hour ago. Abrahem is on him. Come on in the office.”

  I glanced at Lucy as I followed him and she mouthed the words, "Good Luck!”

  I winked at her and followed my grumpy boss and friend into his office and closed the door. He went around and sat down behind his desk. I took the chair on the other side. I watched as he shuffled things on his desk. I could tell he was having trouble saying whatever it was he needed to say. When we were kids, he never stopped talking. These days, getting anything other than a butt-chewing from him, was like pulling teeth. “I asked Vlad to come in on this partly because I’m going to have to abandon you and leave town for a while.” Blake never goes anywhere, much less in the middle of a case.

  “Okay…where are you going?”

  “California.”

  “To talk to the biological mother?”

  He sighed and said, “Partly. I will contact her while I’m there.”

  “And the other part?”

  “When did you get so damned nosy?”

  I smiled. “I’ve always been nosy, you just usually brush me off. Come on, man. I’ve known you longer than anyone in your life except your parents and your brother.”

  Blake’s family moved to Florida when he was seventeen. After the army, he moved back to Louisiana where he’d grown up. His parents and older brother were still in Florida. I’m not sure how often he talks to them, if at all. I do know he hasn’t gone to visit them in the past two years.

  “You don’t want to know this crap, Ryder. Trust me.”

  “I do if it will help me understand what’s going on with you. Besides, if I was taking off out of state suddenly in the middle of a case, wouldn’t you want to know why?”

  He looked like he was going to throw me out. I was surprised when he didn’t and also when he started talking. He began to tell me a story, and after a few minutes, it was as if he’d slipped into the past and he was back in Afghanistan. I had been there myself, so I could picture it as he talked. I could hear that wind whipping around and almost feel the grainy sand against my face…

  “We were in the Helmand Province, looking for insurgents. Everyone else had already pulled out, and we were the last unit left. I had a young kid named Dawson with me, and we were leading up the unit. It was his first tour. That hot wind was blowing like it always did, and it was well over a hundred degrees without it. The sand was clawing at our raw, chapped faces. The city was abandoned, and the buildings were crumbling. There was no wood or glass left in any of them, nothing anyone could steal and use for something else. The empty shells rolled around underneath our boots, and the sidewalks were so cracked and uneven that we had to watch our step to keep from breaking a leg or an arm or God forbid our necks. Other than the wind and the sound of our boots, it was completely silent. Creepy, you know?” I nodded and his eyes kind of glazed over and he went on. “What I remember is a convoy of tanks and trucks rolling by, the last of the Marines pulling out. I remember thinking that the Marines were leaving, and we were still there, which meant we had a specific mission that someone had yet to inform us about. The base was almost completely broken down, save the supplies they’d left for us. Everyone except us and the Taliban were gone once the Marines took off.

  “The base and the abandoned city had been eerily quiet for a few days even before they left. We were sure that insurgents were lying in wait, but we weren’t sure where. The kid I was with, Dawson, he was scared to death, but he was trying like hell not to show it. I felt for him. I could remember being him. Hell, I was on my tenth tour and still scared to death. I tried making conversation with him about where he was from and his family—just to get keep his mind occupied with other things. He told me he grew up in Tennessee. He had a twin sister and both of his parents were still livin
g. He’d had a girlfriend when he signed up, but she waited until he got to boot camp to dump him through an email. I could tell he was still hurting over that and he really missed his family. He told me he was really close to his sister, and he kind of talked about their “twin radar.” He said that if he got killed over there she would know before he did. He laughed about that, but I got the feeling he wasn’t kidding. He was kind of like you and Granny, believing in all that supernatural stuff.”

  Granny was the believer, not me. I didn’t interrupt him to tell him that though. He went on, “We’d been given orders a few days prior to this, not to leave our barracks without our weapon. We were told to carry it to the john with us. I knew that meant something big was coming our way, but the powers-that-be hadn’t chosen to share it with us yet. I walked out in the open with Dawson, hugging the butt of my M27 and waiting for all hell to break loose, and then it did.”

  I realized when he paused that I was holding my breath. I let it out slowly and waited for him to take a drink of his Red Bull and start again.

  “This horrible scream floated in on the wind. It was earsplitting, and it sounded close, but you know how deceiving sound can be out there. We had no idea which direction it came from. But, it was one of those screams that triggers a response on an emotional level, you know someone is hurting and badly. Dawson and I split up, and I went inside of this big, cement building. I wasn’t sure, but it sounded like the sound was muffled slightly, maybe off of the cement walls. I stood at the foot of the stairs and listened. The building was big, probably an old warehouse office or something. When I didn’t hear anything else, I advanced up the stairs, and Dawson went in the other direction. There were three small rooms upstairs. That was all, just three. I was gone a total of two or three minutes before I heard a single gunshot. It didn’t come from inside the building, but I had to make sure the kid and the rest of my unit was okay. I tried the radio first, but all I got back was static.

  As I ran down the stairs, I heard twelve more shots in rapid succession. They sounded like they were all coming from different directions. I was disoriented by the time my feet hit the cement of the bottom floor. I didn’t know which way to go. I called out for Dawson, and when he didn’t answer, I checked out the bottom floor. I found him in the third room I looked in…with his throat cut and a single gunshot to the head.”

  “Damn. I’m sorry, man.”

  His eyes were still thousands of miles away as he went on. “I knew that I had to stay focused and find the rest of my team. I left his body there with every intention of going back for him unless I ended up dead myself. I exited the building and stood close to it out front and scanned the area. Another shot rang out, that one whizzed by so close to my head I could almost feel it. I hit the dirt, and I just lay there, like a damned coward.”

  “Blake…”

  He ignored me and kept talking. “I don’t know if they thought I was dead or what, but that was the only shot they took at me. I couldn’t even remember how much time had passed later when I had to tell command what happened or fill out my reports. But when I finally pulled myself up out of the dirt and went to look for the rest of them, I found them all in the exact same shape as Dawson. They were all scattered out. I have no clue how they got them to split up. They’d never willingly leave their teammates. Anyways, I realized at that moment that out of six, I was the only one left alive. I was their leader and I’d failed them.”

  “Wait, Blake, listen to me. You said you heard shots while you were still in the building and only one after you came out. Those men were dead before you took cover. And damn it, what good were you going to be to anyone if you were dead, too?”

  At least I was beginning to understand what happened to him.

  “I radioed our back-up unit. They were only a couple miles behind us, but I still wasn’t getting anything back but static. I just started going from building to building. If I was going down, I wanted to take at least a few of the murdering SOBs with me, you know?” I nodded, and he said, “I cleared four of them before I heard the final shot. I’m not even sure I heard it. To this day I’m not sure if what I remember are actual memories or my imagination or what I was told. The back-up unit got there apparently before they had time to cut my throat. I had a bullet in my chest, and I was bleeding out. And while all of that was happening, a mortar shell hit the building Dawson’s body was in. There was nothing left of him. His family got to bury an empty coffin.”

  I felt sick for my friend. I’d had similar experiences that sometimes still had me waking up shaking and sweating in the middle of the night and looking for my weapon. Blake had been in charge of his unit, and that made it all that much worse. It was like a father sending his child into a burning building. “I’m sorry, man. Have you talked to anyone…?”

  “I’m talking to you.”

  He knew what I was asking, I could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t going to discuss therapy with me. I realized I should be thankful he was at least talking to me. I let it go and said, “So the trip to California has something to do with Dawson?”

  “I have been looking for his sister all of this time. I finally have a good lead on her in California. I need to talk to her face to face. It’s the only way I think I’ll ever get any peace. While I’m out there, I can talk to Celia’s mother as well and let you know if it looks like she has anything to do with this. When I get back, I’ll give you a week off, but for now I need you to take over this kidnapping investigation. The only other things we have going on are protecting that actress while she’s in town and the senator at that convention next week. This isn’t coming at a good time, I know. The actress…what the hell is her name?”

  “Starr Lee.” He rolled his eyes.

  “I’ll just bet her parents named her that.” I didn’t say it out loud, but if he was going to be the one protecting her, I’m glad he was going out of town. “Anyways, I’ll put Leif on her. She gets into town tomorrow, and she’ll be here for two weeks. I’ll have Abrahem take the office and put him on the senator next week. If anything comes up while he’s busy with that, Lucy might call you, but she’s pretty good at figuring things out on her own. I’m sorry, but I’ll need to ask you to take the Bransons twenty-four seven, can you do that?”

  “Yeah, I mean, I might need a place to sleep at night, but of course I can handle it.”

  He nodded. “I’ve already spoken to Matt Branson. He’s still being an ass about the baby’s mother, but he agreed to put you in a room across the hall from the nursery.” That meant across the hall from Alicia. For a second, I considered telling Blake about the feelings I was having for the nanny. I decided quickly that he had enough on his plate. I could be a professional. It wouldn’t be easy, but I could do it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  RYDER

  Leif stayed with Alicia and Celia that entire day while I got caught up on some sleep. Before I went back to the mansion, I took Blake to the airport. On the way there he said, “I forgot to tell you I got a text from Abrahem while you were home sleeping. As soon as they let the Russian out of custody, he was on a plane back to the Soviet Union.”

  “Immigration?”

  “No, they hadn’t gotten to him yet. He went on his own.”

  “Well, that’s going to make following him a little more difficult.”

  “It would, if we didn’t have Vlad. He’s already got his men on it. So far the guy got off the plane and has been holed up at his mother’s place in Georgia. I gave Vlad your number, he’s going to stay in touch.”

  I nodded. “Good.” I laughed and said, “Between him and Alicia, by the time you get back I might be speaking Russian.”

  He smiled. “You going to be okay sleeping across the hall from that girl?”

  “Of course,” I said, innocently. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  He rolled his eyes. I should have known Blake was too perceptive for me to get anything past him. “I knew you when you had your first crush. You still get that same goofy look
on your face when there’s one you really like.”

  I didn’t bother trying to deny it. “I’ll be a consummate professional.”

  He chuckled. “I’m sure you will. Be safe, too.”

  “I will; you too.” I expected him to laugh that off. He was going to California to see the sister of a kid killed in Afghanistan and a struggling nineteen-year-old actress.

  Instead, he lost the smile and a serious look crossed his face. “I will,” was all he said, but I got the feeling there was something he wasn’t telling me.

  After I dropped him off, I went home and packed a small bag and then called Granny. I was pleasantly surprised when she answered the phone.

  “Hello, cher. How’s my boy today?”

  She always put a smile on my face. “I’m good, Granny. Thank you for answering the phone.” She grumbled something, and I laughed and said, “How are you?”

  “A little down in my back. Ol’ Sly came around early this mornin’ and I hadda chase him off.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Ol’ Sly” is a seven-and-a-half-foot gator that lives in the swamp right out in front of Granny’s house. He’s lived there for years, chasing away anything else that tried to inhabit that space. He used to stay in the water and sun himself on a rock about twelve feet out from the shore. He never came up in the yard or near the house until recently, but over the past several months, Granny says he’s been doing it a lot.

  I tried to get her to let me get a permit to get rid of him. She wouldn’t hear of it. “I’m livin’ on Ol’ Sly’s turf,” she’d said. “I couldn’t live with myself if I got him kilt off so that I could take over.”

  Instead, she gets her broom out when he gets too close to the house. One of these days that old gator is going to have himself a Granny sandwich. Very delicate, knowing she was going to argue with me I said, “Don’t you think it would be better to just stay inside until he’s gone, Granny?”

  “Nope. If I stayed inside Ol’ Sly would make himself at home on my porch and never leave. I don’t wanna kill him, but I ain’t havin’ him chasing off all my company.”