by Lea Hart
“Okay.”
Sitting up straight, she squared her shoulders. “I really believe that the cancer has not come back and this is going to be no big deal.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Brooke. I don’t need some happy, fake crap. I can handle whatever is coming.”
“Frisco, how many dates have we been on?”
“I’m not sure.”
Holding up her hand, she pushed down one finger. “Dinner in N’Djamena, and…”
He covered her hand and shook his head. “The number doesn’t matter.” He motioned between the two of them and then pressed their hands against her heart. “Sometimes, it takes days to discover who and what is important. A year could pass and the answer is still the same. You and me. Together.”
“Is that some sort of SEAL confidence, or are you a relationship savant?”
“A little of both. I’ve witnessed many friends over the last couple of years falling in love, and it happened almost instantly for every single one of them. I told you when we first met that either it is or it isn’t, and I believe we are.”
“I guess time will tell.”
He gave her his best winning smile and pulled her back into his lap. “I guess it will.”
He leaned back against the couch and held her as closely as he could and sent up a prayer asking that Brooke be spared having to battle the cancer monster again.
How in hell had she managed it the first time? And where in the hell had the rear admiral been when it had been going on?
Not expecting to ever get answers, he silently resolved that he would be by her side through whatever she was about to face. He wasn’t interested in only the good times with this woman in his arms; he wanted to be part of it all. And if that meant fighting leukemia, then so be it.
Fuck cancer.
No way was it going to take her away.
***
Brooke quietly walked down the stairs of her house, turned on the small light in the kitchen, and almost jumped out of her skin. “Chance, what the hell are you doing sitting in the dark?”
“Bargaining with God.”
“Well then, you’re going to need some ice cream.”
“Three scoops.”
“With whipped cream?” She looked over at her brother and saw his smirk. “Why do I ask?”
“Not sure.”
She pulled out the ice cream and made two sundaes in record time. Walking to the couch, she handed him a bowl and then collapsed next to him. “It hasn’t come back.”
“I know. But I was just making sure that God understood what I’d be willing to do if it did.”
Leaning her head against the other half of her soul, she let out a sigh. “I think you’ve had it the toughest out of all of us, because there’s not much you can do. First with me and then with Mom. For someone who likes to affect change and be in charge of his destiny, it must suck having to be on the sidelines.”
“More than you’ll ever know.”
Scooping up a big bite, she enjoyed the smooth, chocolaty taste hitting her tongue and breathed the moment in. Right now, she wasn’t fighting anything. Right now, she was sitting next to her favorite person in the world, eating her favorite thing in a beautiful home they had created together. Right now, all was good in the world.
“Is Frisco upstairs?”
“No, I sent him home. I couldn’t take the long, searching looks he was giving me anymore.”
“You think he can handle this?”
“Not sure. He said all the right words and I believe in his heart he thinks he can handle it, but we both know that, until you’re in it, you never really know.”
“Did you tell the rear admiral?”
“Yes.”
“How did he handle it?”
“Made all the right noises.” Eating more ice cream, she wondered if he meant it.
“And…”
“I didn’t give him any slack and told him exactly how I felt. I don’t want him there tomorrow because it will just remind me of all the times he wasn’t.” Setting her bowl down, she pulled a blanket over her shoulders. “He told me that he stayed away because he was powerless and couldn’t handle the feeling. It was easier to go out and battle terrorists than come home and battle cancer.”
“Yeah, I figured that out a long time ago.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Because it’s a shitty excuse, and knowing why he did it doesn’t make it okay.”
“It’s an old story, and I decided a while ago that it wasn’t anything that was going to affect my future.”
“Proud of you, sis.”
“More proud of you, brother.”
“Want to watch a movie?”
“Absolutely. Harry Potter or Napoleon Dynamite?”
“Knock it off, Napoleon! Make yourself a dang quesadilla!” Chance replied.
Taking the remote off the table, she handed it to him. “I knew you were going to choose that one.”
“How many times did we watch this in the hospital?”
“Hundreds.” As she watched Chance look for the movie in their on-demand library, she felt a deep well of gratitude for having him as her twin. God might have thrown her a couple of shit storms, but at least he gave her someone to navigate them with.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Wednesday, October 4th
Why, today of all days, did he have to be pulled into a mandatory meeting? Parking his truck next to the command center, he prayed it was going to be quick so he could get to the hospital before Brooke was taken in for her spinal tap.
Striding into the building, he checked in and then was asked to leave his phone before entering the conference room. Shit and double shit, he thought. This wasn’t some procedural meeting where they were going over the training schedule for the next several weeks. This meant they had a hot spot and he and his platoon might be going wheels up.
He started to text Brooke and let her know he was going to be late when he heard the loud bark of his name. Looking up, he saw his commander motion him in, so he dropped his phone in the box and prayed he could get out in time so he could let Brooke know he was coming as soon as he could.
Once he entered the room, he saw Jax, Bryce, Seth, Shane, and Josh. Nodding his greeting, he grabbed a chair, looked up at the screen behind the commander and let out a snarl. Fucking Hamza bin Laden was still out there running around and causing problems.
He ground his teeth and waited for the intel brief to begin and prayed he was going to have a second shot at bringing the kid in.
Rear Admiral Delman stood in front of the room and waited for everyone to quiet down; when he had everyone’s attention, he began to speak. “We’ve got an op coming up and I want our intelligence officer to brief you on the background first, and then we’ll go into the particulars.” Turning to the woman standing in the corner, he motioned her forward. “Senior Intelligence Specialist Monroe, the floor is yours.”
“Thank you, sir.” Picking up the control from the table, she pointed it at the screen, and a map of the sandbox came up. “As many of you know, the accepted thinking on ISIS is that they’ve hit their high-water mark, and, as presently conceived, they lack a long-term future. The airstrikes we engaged in have, for all intents and purposes, decimated their top leadership, thus crippling them from reinventing themselves anytime in the near future.”
“Which is damn good news,” Seth called out.
“Agreed,” Monroe said. “However, they leave behind a wealth of members who are looking for a cause, and many of them are finding homes with the new stateless al-Qaeda. Not only has the group increased their membership and geographic reach, it has completely decentralized and is almost impossible to pin down. It’s like a B-movie vampire, try to drive a stake through its heart, and it transforms into a thousand bats and flies somewhere else.”
“Is Hamza the accepted heart of the organization?” Shane asked.
“Yes,” Monroe stated with finality. “After Zawahiri renewe
d his group’s bayat, or loyalty oath, to Mullah Omar, the Taliban leader who had been dead for fifteen months, the powers that be decided to go another way.”
The room erupted in laughter, and Monroe held her hand up. “Unfortunately, as you all know, Abu Mohammed al-Masri, the most experienced and capable operational planner not in the US or allied custody, is backing Hamza’s rise to power. Since the group is not forced to defend its self-styled caliphate like ISIS, they are free to spend their time solidifying the global affiliates. Their subgroups stretch out in a loose band across the breadth of two continents, and their sympathizers pepper the globe, which means the organization’s fanatic patience is paying off. Their insistence on playing the long game has made them far more resilient than anyone expected.”
“Hamza is just waiting for the right time, then?” Josh asked.
“Yes. The group knows there is little profit in antagonizing us with a spectacular terrorist attack and instead are employing a strategy that involves building up their resources and territory in places like Syria, Yemen, and North Africa. Al-Qaeda is biding its time until ISIS finally crumbles, and when the spotlight returns to the organization, it will strike and strike hard. With bin Laden’s filial heir and ideological successors firmly back in the fold, they once again have the means to attack. Hamza is just waiting for the right time.”
Rear Admiral Delman stepped in front once again. “Thank you, Monroe. Excellent summary. Looks like we may have another chance at him, and I’m putting a strike team together to go after him. The six of you have spent some time hunting him down, and I’m offering you a place on the new platoon we are in the process of putting together.”
“Count me in,” Jax called out.
Putting his hand up, Delman shook his head. “This is completely voluntary because you men have been down range for quite some time, and the last thing I want is to risk injuries or burnout. The Navy has too damn much invested in each one of you not to consider the wear and tear another deployment is going to cause. Take the day and let me know by tomorrow.”
Frisco watched his commander walk out of the room with Specialist Monroe and looked at his men. “Thoughts?”
“I want that son of a bitch so badly I can taste it,” Shane said.
“Me too,” Bryce added.
Josh looked at the group as he rubbed his hand over his neck. “My wife is going to fucking kill me, but I can’t miss a shot at taking this guy out once and for all.”
“Don’t make a decision yet. Talk to your spouse if you’ve got one and let’s meet tomorrow.”
Frisco stood and watched his men begin to walk out of the room. This was the best fucking news he could’ve gotten and also the worst. How could he be gone for months if Brooke was at home battling cancer?
For the first time in his career, he had a very difficult decision to make, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. He checked his watch and saw that Brooke’s spinal tap was probably finished and he hadn’t had the chance to speak with her. Striding toward the door, he saw Monroe pop her head back in.
“Rear admiral wants to see you.”
“On my way.” He followed Monroe out of the room, grabbed his phone out of the box, and was about to text Brooke when the CPO approached and started downloading intel. At this rate, he was never going to get anything sent to Brooke.
***
Brooke walked into the Sharp Coronado Hospital with her brother and took his hand. “I was thinking that maybe I have a strain of leishmaniasis.”
“I think that’s the fifth parasitic disease you’ve mentioned since we got up.”
“When Piper and I were in the village of Tabarak Allah in eastern Sudan, we worked extensively with patients who had contracted it, and though it’s transmitted through sandflies, maybe it mutated and that’s what I’ve got.”
“Pretty sure you told me that it had a ninety-five percent mortality rate if it’s not treated, so you’d have been long dead by now if that was the case.”
“I guess you’re right. Must be malaria or maybe a viral hemorrhagic fever.”
“Except you’re lucid and have no temperature.”
“True.” She walked up to the main desk and asked for directions to the neurology department, then turned back to her brother and saw Piper. “You didn’t have to come; I thought you had your interview today.”
Piper hugged her and then smoothed out her hair. “I rescheduled it. This is way more important, and I don’t want to miss all the fun.” Lifting up a bag, she grinned. “I brought magazines and snacks so when you’re lying down after the procedure we won’t get bored.”
“Thank you.” She squeezed Piper’s hand and felt a little ball of tears try to fight their way out, so she mentally shoved them back down and smiled. “Let’s go and get this party started.”
“Why didn’t they do this in your doctor’s office?” Piper asked as they walked down the long hall.
“The neurologist who’s performing the procedure has privileges here, and he likes to have the anesthesiologist available,” Brooke responded as she checked her phone. Yesterday, Frisco had told her that he was going to come, and she was surprised that he hadn’t arrived yet or texted. Shoving the phone back into her purse, she decided not to worry about it. Maybe after he had time to reflect, he decided this wasn’t something he wanted to get involved with. A little dagger of disappointment pierced her heart, and then she firmly instructed herself to get over it.
Better to know now if his words meant anything.
As they turned the corner into the neurology department, Brooke saw her father leaning against the wall. “Great,” she muttered. “I told him not to come.”
Chance took her hand and stopped. “Do you want me to get rid of him?”
“No, let’s not start a family fight in front of God and everyone.”
“Say the word, and I’ll ask him to leave.”
“He’s not worth the fuss. Maybe he recognized he’s mortal and figured it’s time to start making up for his mistakes before he hits the Pearly Gates.”
Piper took her other hand, and Brooke knew all she really needed was her best friend and her twin, and she could get through anything. “Maybe it’s typhoid fever or cholera. We were in Yemen for a year, and both of those diseases were prevalent.”
Piper leaned forward and looked at Chance. “How many has she named since this morning?”
“At least a half-dozen.”
Piper nodded. “Keep going, Brooke, because I can probably name another half-dozen that we came into contact with over the last five years.”
“I know…the possibilities are endless.”
The group stopped in front of the rear admiral, and Brooke stared and her father. “Decided not to honor my request.”
“I wanted to come, Brooke, and there’s nothing that’s going to stop me from trying to have a place in your life.”
“Good luck with that,” Chance said.
Deciding to ignore her father’s comment, she walked up to the receptionist desk and checked in. As the woman processed her paperwork, she started making bargains with God and asked to be spared a second battle with cancer. If she was spared, then she was going to do as much good in the world as she could manage, and that meant going back out with MSF.
Checking her phone one last time, she saw that it was blank and decided to turn it off. Seemed she didn’t really have anything keeping her in San Diego, so she might as well start thinking where she was going to go next.
***
Frisco strode down the hall of the hospital and checked his watch. By his calculation, Brooke should still be here, and he was praying that she’d want to see him. As he rounded the corner toward the neurology department, he saw Piper sitting in the waiting area and got ready to have his ass handed to him.
There was nothing he could do about being held up at the base for most of the day, but that wouldn’t make a bit of difference to her, and the two texts they’d exchanged had told him how she felt about it.
When he’d told Brooke in no uncertain terms that he wanted to be there to support her and help her in any way he could, he’d meant it, and failing on the first day certainly didn’t send the right message.
He took a seat next to Piper. “How is she doing?”
“Fine. She’s getting changed, so you have about five minutes until I kick your ass out of here.”
“I need to see her and explain what happened.”
Turning slowly, Piper looked him up and down and then shook her head. “What you want, what you need is of no interest to me, her brother, or her, for that matter. You egotistical son of a bitch, pull your head out and think about what Brooke needs and wants.”
“I…”
Piper held up her hand and shook her head. “Do you remember when I told you in Am Timan that I would hurt you if you hurt her?”
“Yes.”
“Get ready to be hurt, because on one of the toughest days that she’s had since her mom passed, you didn’t show up when you said you would. Which plays beautifully into her story of being abandoned by the man in her life who is supposed to show up and give a shit. I mean, Shakespeare couldn’t have written a more tragic scene.”
“Fuck, I know. I couldn’t get out of the base today, and it was shitty timing.”
“Understood. Which is why she never dated men in the military and especially SEALs. Did she tell you her father was AWOL for ninety-five percent of the time she battled leukemia? He had to be at work, he had to be deployed, he had to be…elsewhere.”
“If I could’ve changed today, I would’ve.”
“I guess that’s the point. You are about the absolute worst choice for my friend because your career will always come first. It has to, by its nature. Nothing particularly wrong with it, but it’s not something Brooke can handle. Especially if we don’t get the results we want.”
“I can’t walk away from her.”
“You might want to reconsider that if you really feel the way to say you do. If we end up battling the cancer monster again and you get called for wheels up and are gone for six or seven months, do you think that’s fair?”
