As the team carefully approached the first opening, I
slowly peeked my head past the opening to see through into the
makeshift room, hoping to not alert anyone of our existence yet.
Inside the room were three cots, each with a man sleeping. Like
silent lightning, three of the team members moved into the room
and silently subdued the men. The three men were gagged and
handcuffed together. All three men’s feet were bound together.
The team then moved to the next room.
When I saw who inhabited the next room, I placed my
index finger over my lips in the universal sign to stay quiet and
stepped boldly into the doorway. Before me, both tied to chairs
were the Crown Princess Cecelia and Dr. Korzinski. As I quickly
and efficiently cut the ropes that bound them to the chairs I
quietly whispered the question, “How many men?” First in
French to Cecelia and then in English to the doctor. They both
held up a hand, palm out, fingers splayed indicating five men. I
mouthed and motioned with my hand for them to stay. Then the
team moved to the third opening.
It housed a small kitchen but was devoid of any human
beings. We moved on to the fourth and last opening. There were
two desks in the room. Each desk held a computer and large
monitor. Behind the desks were the remaining two men. The
team moved in and the captors became captives in the blink of
an eye. I quickly snapped photos of the five men, the Crown
Princess, and the doctor and sent them to the team coordinator.
I helped the doctor and the princess up the stairs while the rest
of the team herded the kidnappers along behind.
Back above ground, I radioed for extraction choppers.
Three choppers would be sent. One for the victims, one for the
kidnappers and one for the team. As I assisted the Princess and
the doctor into the first chopper, I received a message on my
phone. I didn’t check it until the chopper lifted off to return to
the palace. As the kidnappers were loaded into the second
chopper, I checked my message. Facial recognition software run
on the photos I sent identified the two men in the last room as
Americans. And the message said, “received word for you to call
home when mission complete.”
I remembered the only other time I received the message
to call home. When my grandmother, my last remaining
grandparent died. Maybe Nicole had the triplets, it wasn’t time
yet, but don’t multiples often come early?
Chapter 5
Back at base operations, I asked the commander, “Who
are these idiots?” Of course, I was referring to the American men
involved in kidnapping a political royal and a renowned
scientist.
“The most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen. They are owners of
rival pharmaceutical companies,” he told me.
“What? What the hell?”
Harrison stood up and replied, “I read on the way here,
there are some people who believe astatine will cure cancer. Not
just some cancer or cancers but all cancers. They’ve done some
research with synthetic astatine but want to try the natural
element. You know different isotopes work differently.”
“So they didn’t really want the material…”
“No, they wanted someone to try to bring it up in a fit of
desperation which would effectively destroy it. Then it couldn’t
be tested or used.”
“Is there never an end to the way the human race can
screw each other over in the name of greed?” I said shaking my
head. I really can’t understand people some days. “I have a
phone call to make. I’ll be right back.”
“Mom? I got the message to call home. What’s going on?
Did Nicole have the babies?”
“No, it’s not Nicole, it’s Harper.”
“Harper? What’s wrong, what happened?”
“We don’t know yet honey. She’s in the hospital. How
quick can you get here?”
“I’ll apply for emergency leave now. I’ll let you know when
I can get there. I’m wrapping up a mission. How serious is it?”
“I don’t think she’s going to make it. I’m pretty sure Tony
is behind this and your dad is completely certain. If she dies, I
fear what your dad will do. I’m afraid he intends to be judge jury
and executioner.”
“What do you mean Tony is behind it?”
“We recently found out that he’s been hitting her. This
time, it’s bad. She’s in a coma they say there will be brain
damage if she survives.”
“I’m on my way, try to keep dad away from Tony!”
Son of a bitch! I’ll kill that asshole!
Chapter 6
I didn’t make it home in time to tell Harper goodbye. I
hear a lot of people say that following the loss of a loved one. I
think maybe I’m supposed to say it. But that’s not why I’m sad.
It’s not what I’m pissed about.
When they brought Harper into the emergency room, she
was already in a coma. No one got to have a conversation with
her. No one got to tell her goodbye. No one got to tell her how
much we all love her.
I didn’t make it home in time. In time to stop the son of a
bitch. In time for her to tell me what was going on. In time to
find out on my own if she wouldn’t tell me. How in the hell does
something like this happen in my family? To my sister? Where
the hell was I? I’m the great protector. The hero. I’m supposed to
save the day. But where was I?
I was saving someone else’s daughter. In another country.
Over the issue of natural resources and profit margins. Why was
saving someone in another country more important that saving
my own sister? The sister that made me feel loved and missed
when I was a twelve-year-old boy who felt forsaken. Why was a
Crown Princess more important than my sister?
The answer, of course, is that no one is more important
than anyone else. I was doing my job. My duty. I was where I
was supposed to be, doing what I was supposed to do. I didn’t
know my sister needed me or I would have been here. And
Harper knew that. She knew if she told me I would have been
here. I would have taken that man down to within an inch of his
life and I would have taken her away from here. Maybe she was
working up to telling me. I know all of this logically and in my
mind. But my heart is breaking. That son of a bitch was beating
and killing my sister while I was off somewhere else saving
someone I don’t even know. What kind of hero is that?
I’m looking for Tony. I will drive around and through
every neighborhood, every street and search every bar until I
find that bastard. Mom said he works at a meat packing plant. A
sausage plant somewhere just outside of town. They said I’ll be
able to smell it and know I’m there. It won’t smell like sausage,
Don said. It’s foul. Just like the jerk that works there. I already
went to the sausage place, and as usual, Don was right. That
place stinks. I may never be able to eat sausage a
gain. They said
he hasn’t been to work in three days. Dad’s looking for him too.
Tony’s driving a 1983 Ford pickup faded red and we have the tag
number. So where would a lily-livered wife beater go, while his
wife lays in a coma in a hospital and dies?
“Dad, I found him. His truck is parked at a house on
Maple. The address is 432 but I’ve got this. Go on home and take
care of mom.”
“Son, don’t do anything stupid. He’s not worth it. Don’t go
in there. Call the police and give them his location. They want to
talk to him. Let’s do this by the book.”
“Okay, Dad. I hear you.” As I got out of the rental car, dad
pulled up behind me.
“What the hell Dad, I thought you were going home to
Mom?”
“I never said that you did. You call the cops?”
“Nope. I never said I would. I said I heard you. I’m going
in there.”
“Well then, I guess we go in together. It sure would be
nice if we knew who lived here.”
“Yep, it would, but honestly I don’t care.”
“Me either.”
We didn’t knock. We didn’t ring the doorbell. We didn’t
kick in the door, and we didn’t shoot our way in. I just turned
the knob and strode into the house as if I did it every day.
Tony sat in a recliner, drinking a longneck beer and
watching Pawn Stars on TV. When he looked up and saw me
and Dad he tried to launch out of the chair, his feet fell through
the opening between the seat and the footrest and he pitched
forward. I swung at his face.
Dad pulled me back by the arm and stepped in front of
me, raised his arm and fired his pistol. The shot penetrated
Tony’s back and the bullet settled in his gut. Dad then reached
down, pulled Tony up and threw him back in the chair and then
shot him in the heart.
“Dad! No! Why! You said he wasn’t worth it! Give me the
gun. Get out of here. Go home to Mom. I’ll take care of this.”
“No cadet. Call the cops like I told you to in the first place.
I’ve got this. Your mom and Nicole need you. You have to be
strong for them.”
“Dad I haven’t been a cadet for 6 years. Why are you
doing this? I’ll handle it.”
“Son, I’m dying. I found out last week and haven’t had a
chance to tell anyone yet. I won’t live until this goes to trial. I
did this. I’ll take the responsibility. Because when I’m gone the
family needs you. I’m proud of you, I always have been.”
Chapter 7
We buried my sister. Three weeks later we buried my dad.
I spent another three weeks with my Mom until it became quite
clear to both of us that she didn’t need me.
My mother, the perfect Army wife to the end. She loved
my father, she was loyal to him. But she was strong. Army
strong. How could we not have known this about her?
She knew I had to get back to work. And I did. But
Harper’s death stayed with me. I suppose knowing something
like this can happen to any family made me more aware of how
women are treated. I was always taught to be a gentleman, of
course. But now I realize, it’s not just about opening doors and
walking on the outside of the sidewalk.
Being a gentleman is about how you treat a woman.
Period. Physically and emotionally. It’s about being supportive,
believing in her, cherishing her, as well as taking care of her. It’s
allowing her to be anything and everything she wants to be,
even if that changes on a regular basis.
This realization as part of my maturing and growing up
sure made being a soldier harder. I have lived and traveled all
over the world. Following my sister’s death and my rise through
the Army ranks I lived and worked in even more countries. With
my new found perspective regarding the treatment of women, I
noticed things I might not have noticed if Harper was still alive.
We hear about females being denied education. We hear
about them being forced to keep their face covered. We hear
about genital mutilation and being stoned for wanting a divorce
or committing adultery. But I never really thought about those
things from a woman’s perspective. What it says to her psyche
that she isn’t worthy of education, she isn’t pretty enough or is
too pretty to be seen in public, her only value is to produce and
raise children. What would it do to the very men in my company
if they were treated that way? Would they be who they are now?
Would they be able to fight for their country? I don’t think they
would.
Chapter 8
Now I have to decide what to do with the rest of my life.
The thing I do best is being a soldier. The only thing I can think
of now is that I want to stop other women from ending up like
my sister.
It seems to me that for the better part of my forty-two
years, I have been responsible for taking care of someone or
some abstract ideal. I worked hostage situations, diverted coups,
protected artifacts, and liberated refugees. I pulled more than
anyone’s share of my fellow brothers out of bad situations.
I was seldom home. I talked to my sister and my mom
whenever I could, and wrote letters when I couldn’t. There
hasn’t been time in my life for a woman. I wasn’t in one place
long enough for any kind of relationship to take hold. My world,
my relationships were my family and my unit.
I’ve given Uncle Sam and my country twenty years of my
life. That is if you don’t count the years growing up on bases,
and training for my eventual career. Some would say my whole
life was lived for the red white and blue. And I didn’t mind it,
never really thought about it until now, when I’m just months
away from retirement. What will I do now? Where will I live? I
can’t think of a single place on earth that seems like home.
So as my retirement from the Army approaches, I’m at
odds. I’ve seen most of the world, even though mostly what I see
isn’t on any tourist maps. I’m too young to retire from working,
so I need to figure out what all this training will translate to in
the real world, and where I want to hang my hat. Maybe if I stay
in one place long enough, I’ll find that special someone who can
put up with a guy like me.
Nicole is tough as nails. She’s the antithesis of Harper.
She and her husband Don live in Atlanta. They have tween
triplets, Tanya, Tory, and Tristan. Try saying that three times.
In my opinion, Nicole is a bonafide linguistics expert to get that
introductory sentence out. I don’t know what they were
thinking. It was just as bad when it was toddler triplets, Tanya,
Tory, and Tristan. On top of raising those three, she’s a
corporate CEO. I love her, Don and the kids dearly, but I’m not
sure I want to live in the same town.
Mom still lives in Annapolis. She still enjoys her wive's
teas and officer cocktail parties. She’s lived in Annapolis now
longer than she live
d anywhere else in her adult life. She’s
active, healthy and has friends.
I’m still wrestling with the guilt of not being around for
Harper when she needed me. She’s the one who always needed
me most. She’s the one who was always there for me. I know it’s
normal. But damn it still smarts.
I think I’ll drive around the country. I always called the
United State home, but in all honesty, I haven’t spent much
time here. As I drive around I’ll place ads as an investigator.
Sure, I’ll spend some time taking photos of cheating husbands,
but maybe, just maybe I’ll be in the right place at the right time
to help someone. Maybe I can help someone trying to escape an
abusive husband. Or help any woman, for that matter, who finds
herself in need. I didn’t make it in time for Harper. But I’ll be in
time for someone else.
The End
Also by Scarlett Braden:
New Orleans' little darling, Lily Grace has disappeared. Abby and
Trent join forces with their New Orleans friends to search for Lily Grace.
Imagine the surprise when Abby’s fugitive ex-husband turns up in the middle
of the case. In New Orleans, nothing is as it seems. Kidnapping, murder,
corruption, and voodoo simmering like a big pot of jambalaya lead to
unexpected surprises beyond every door and around every corner. Book 2 in
the Providence in Ecuador series won't disappoint as it bridges the United
States and expat haven Ecuador with loads of suspense.
The race for power and control explodes when US Attorney Colleen
McAllister puts away a Memphis kingpin. Colleen goes from the front lines, to
a kidnapped pawn, dragging her explosive-expert husband into a deadly
game of cat and mouse. Turf wars, corruption, gang activity, and confusion
fill the streets as everyone is drawn to the vacuum the arrest creates.
Trent, Pierce, and Frankie fly to Memphis to help. Can they succeed in
rescuing Colleen, her husband Court, and all of Memphis when bombs,
murder, and poison are the weapons of choice? Can they untangle the web
of influence and corruption when the stakes are so high? First place in
Memphis only means you are still breathing.
Read Terror on the Bluff today, the third novel in the Providence in Ecuador
Zero Mercy: The Evolution of Pierce Wellington III Page 2
