After the War

by Jessica Scott

  She frowned. “Shouldn’t that have been wiped before it came home?”

  “Probably.” Sean shrugged. “But when I took it to the signal guys, they said to just keep it because it kept them from having to load it all over again and I honestly don’t have time to tell them how to do their jobs.”

  Sarah shook her head in amazement. “Are they trying to go to jail?”

  “Not wiping a hard drive is the least of the Really Bad Shit I’m worried about from this war,” Sean said dryly.

  She scoffed quietly. “No kidding.” Sarah pulled out her government cell phone and checked something, then slid it back into her shoulder sleeve pocket. “I’d like to read through that computer if you don’t mind.”

  “I’ve got a room set up where you can read it.” Classified information needed to be handled in a certain way. He couldn’t just hand her the hard drive and say “have at it”. The room needed to be segregated from outside communications. No windows. Cell phones left outside.

  He held the door for her and flipped on the light after she walked into the room set up for classified work. He opened the safe and set the classified laptop on the table next to her.

  “Thanks. Do you mind if I work here for a while? I don’t have a classified space at my office set up yet.”

  He nodded. “I don’t have anywhere to be.”

  She was already focused on work now, busy hunched over the laptop checking through the files.

  He left her to it, needing to pull back, to pull away. To gather his storming emotions and shove them into a box. His skin felt too tight, like his bones were going to tear through with the next hard breath.

  He’d skimmed those files once. Just once had been enough. Reading the daily reports had dredged up too many bad memories, even if they weren’t his. Clicking on that first report had been a mistake and he’d shut the computer down, unwilling or unable to read more. It wasn’t even his deployment but the sheer aching familiarity raged through him. Every memory came to life in vivid Technicolor brightness. Every radio call. Every MEDEVAC request felt real.

  All of it came rushing back and the reports weren’t even his own tour. But the names on the report were attached to the faces in his memories. Kearney. Haverson.

  He gave himself a mental shake and yanked his thoughts back from the brink of the looming abyss of depression. If he kept up this train of thought, he’d be nursing an Ambien-laced Heineken. Never a good combo on a good night but at least it guaranteed a night of oblivion.

  Whoever said sleep was a crutch had obviously not gone days and days and days without a good night’s sleep.

  When he was alone in his office, he closed the door and simply sat, wrestling with what she might find on that laptop. Hoping she would find nothing. Needing her to find something so he could put this bullshit between Kearney and Smith to bed. He wanted to protect Kearney. She knew that. But she didn’t know why. Not all of it anyway.

  Some sins needed to stay buried.

  He owed Kearney. He’d worked too damn long to keep Kearney on the right side to let him fail now. The worst of Sean’s sins, though, weren’t on a hard drive. But the escalation of force was trading dangerously close to memories better left buried.

  * * *

  Sarah opened up the laptop and logged in because, typically, the username and password were taped to the laptop. And how was that for great security.

  She surfed through the old commander’s files, but there wasn’t that much of interest, honestly. Additional duty orders. Daily SITREPs. She opened a folder labeled “Additional Duties” and discovered that Kearney and Smith had been appointed Field Ordering Officer and NCO. That meant they’d been charged with drawing cash from the Army and using it to make local purchases. The program was designed to push money into the local economy.

  She found the investigation on the escalation of force incident in another folder. This had occurred six months after Kearney and Smith had been given access to thousands of dollars a month. The incident had taken place on a Sunday morning while Kearney had been on guard duty at the main gate. A car had refused orders to stop, speeding toward the checkpoint. Kearney had ordered the gunner to open fire, disabling the vehicle. To Sarah this seemed perfectly legal, but something felt off: Smith had been appointed the investigating officer to look into the shooting.

  And it didn’t look like the former company commander had done anything with the report other than file it away. But Smith and Kearney were no longer assigned as pay agents after that.

  The whole situation reeked.

  She sat at the desk, looking at the computer, wishing she could take notes. But she couldn’t because then her entire notebook would be classified and locked away. Then she really wouldn’t get the damn investigation done on time.

  She hoped she was wrong about the conclusions she was drawing, but not for Kearney or Smith. For Sean.

  It was a long time before she summoned the strength to walk back into his office.

  “Sean, are you tracking that Kearney and Smith were assigned as the field ordering officer and pay agents prior to the escalation of force incident?”

  “So?”

  “So that means they were handling money for the battalion, not just this company.” She paused, looking up at him. “There have been a lot of investigations around where all the money went in Iraq.” She hesitated. “Smith was the investigating officer; he wrote up a report about the escalation of force and they were both removed as pay agents shortly afterward.”

  It took a minute before her words sunk in. “You don’t think…”

  “This could explain a lot, especially if they did something dirty and it involves the easy cash that was floating around Iraq.”

  Sean sank slowly into a chair across from her. “Holy shit.”

  “Anyone come back with a little extra money?”

  He shook his head. “Not that I’m tracking. No more than normal deployment money, at least not from what I’ve seen.”

  “Money is a powerful temptation.”

  He felt sick. Physically ill at the thought of Kearney doing anything so fucking stupid as to steal money from theater.

  “I can’t believe Kearney would do something like that,” he said quietly.

  “It’s not unheard of. I’ve seen men ruin their careers over a lot less than money.”

  He shot her a wry grin that fell flat. “Now if we were talking about Kearney’s dick getting him into trouble, I wouldn’t even blink. But this?”

  “We don’t know anything. But I damn sure can ask for an audit of their books.”

  He frowned. “Isn’t it a little late for that? They’ve been redeployed for months.”

  “They have to keep receipts for six years.” She reached for him then, her palm covering his. “I hope I’m wrong,” she whispered. “For your sake.”

  * * *

  “Hey sir!”

  “Speak of the devil and he appears,” Sarah said. She handed Sean the classified laptop as Kearney strode into the ops, a wide grin on his still swollen lip, Haverson in tow. The bruises from the fight had faded, and his lip was still just a little pink. “Look who I found.”

  Haverson tried to smile but he looked like shit and failed miserably. Deep slashes spread beneath his eyes and there were tired lines etched into his skin. His skin stretched taut over his small frame. His shoulders were hunched and his smile was tense and flat.

  Sean fought back the worry. Haverson would just get skittish and run off again if Sean pushed too hard. “Twice in one week? Miss me already, Hasselhoff?”

  “Nah. I need you to sign this memo saying I turned my body armor in back in Kuwait,” Haverson said, his voice surprisingly steady. He glanced down at Sarah, as if just noticing her. Haverson tipped his chin, his gaze flicking down to her nametape. “You didn’t happen to know Lieutenant Jack Anders, did you, ma’am?”

  Sarah stilled and Sean braced for her reaction. He’d never seen her talk about Jack with anyone else. He had no i
dea how she would react to meeting up with some of the men who’d served with Jack. “He was my husband.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Haverson said softly.

  Kearney glanced over at Haverson. “LT was a good man.” The rambunctious sergeant was gone, replaced by a sober and respectful Kearney she’d never seen.

  “Thank you.” She looked over at Sean. “I’m going to finish my report.” There were a thousand things left unsaid in that simple sentence.

  He nodded because there was nothing more he could say. He couldn’t stop this. Couldn’t interfere. Because there were limits to what he could do for Kearney.

  If Kearney was involved in something like Sarah suspected, the man who’d kept Sean from tripping into the abyss had tumbled headlong into it himself.

  And Sean didn’t know if he could save him.

  Even from himself.

  But he had to know. He could not avoid the truth. He looked at Kearney. “I need to talk to you.”

  Kearney stilled, a thousand emotions flickering over his face. He hesitated, then nodded.

  And Sean took another step closer to the edge of the abyss.

  * * *

  He stood with Kearney on the dock behind his company. A formation of soldiers marched by, practicing drill and ceremony. It was an odd sight these days. They were so focused on the war that the basics like marching in formation were often abandoned and ignored.

  “Nice to see you sober,” he remarked.

  Kearney grinned and pulled a can of dip out of his back pocket. “Yeah, well, it’s not by choice.”

  It was a long moment before Sean found the words he needed. Better to get to the heart of it than dance around the issue. He trusted Kearney. Needed to hear the truth from the man who’d pulled him back from the brink of insanity and rage. “Is there anything I should know about an escalation of force incident downrange last deployment?”

  Kearney stiffened then, his expression shuttering closed. “That investigation was closed while we were still deployed.”

  “What happened?”

  “Smith wrote up a bullshit report. I didn’t kill those civilians. Not on purpose. They didn’t fucking stop. We told them to stop.” He met Sean’s gaze. “You know me, Sean. You know me.”

  Sean swallowed hard. He thought he did. But now? Now he was starting to doubt. And he felt greasy for not trusting the man who’d kept him on the right side of heaven that awful day. Kearney was a train wreck in garrison, but downrange? He was the man you wanted on your side. “You understand I had to ask.”

  Kearney shrugged. Just like that, the tension was gone and Sean was transported back to a time when he could hang out with his boys and didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Yeah, I know. You having to be all responsible as the commander sucks. You’re no fun anymore.”

  Sean grunted.

  “So listen.” Kearney twisted the top of his dip can. “Haves is leaving tomorrow. The guys are all going out. I know I’m restricted to the barracks and all but I’d like to send him off with everyone else.”

  Sean crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you forgetting the no-drinking order I gave you after Sunday night?”

  Kearney shook his head and spit onto the pavement. “Hand to God. I won’t drink.”

  Sean snorted. “I doubt that.”

  “I won’t. I promise. This is Haves, man. We’ve been through a ton of shit together.”

  “What if you run into LT Smith?” He was going to regret this. He just fucking knew Kearney was going to get into trouble again. But he was right. This was Haverson. And some things were worth taking a risk for.

  “We won’t. It’s a barbecue out at Stillhouse Hollow.”

  “What about if your wife calls?”

  “She won’t. She went to her sister’s in Kentucky. I’ll behave.”

  Sean frowned. “How do you know she’s gone to her sister’s in Kentucky?”

  Kearney rolled his eyes. “Haverson told me he heard LT Smith talking about it. I didn’t break the no-contact order. At least not, a second time.” Kearney drew a cross over his heart. “I swear. No trouble. I’ll be here bright and smiling tomorrow.”

  “Sober.”

  “Sober,” Kearney agreed. “I’ll be the designated driver.”

  Sean couldn’t really believe he was considering it. But he’d walked through fire with Haverson and Kearney. He was the world’s biggest idiot but damn it, Kearney was right. This was Haverson.

  He shook his head. “I better not regret this, Kearney.”

  Kearney grinned triumphantly. “Come on, man, you know me better than that, don’t you?”

  At one point in his life, he had known Kearney better. But the spiraling-out-of-control sergeant hadn’t been acting like his long-time friend for a while. Still, Sean couldn’t bring himself to keep him from saying good-bye to their brother.

  Haverson walked out from the company and Sean pinned him with a mock glare. “One sip, and I’m court-martialing his ass.”

  “Thanks, sir.” Haverson tried to move past Sean but Sean put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Don’t fall off the planet now that you’re a civilian, okay?”

  Haverson nodded and the shadow shuttered back across his face. “Yeah. You coming by tonight? We’re grilling out at Stillhouse.”

  “Yeah. I’ll try to make it. Where?”

  Haverson rattled off directions as Sean took notes in his little green notebook. Haverson stuck his hand out and Sean took it, glad for the strength still remaining in Haverson’s grip. He pulled Haverson into a tight embrace.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” Sean said, his voice thick.

  He stood on the back dock of his company for a while. Unable to shake the feeling that he was losing both of them. Frustration burned in his chest that he was a commander, a position with more power and authority over his men’s lives, and there was nothing, nothing he could do to help either of them.

  He felt, rather than heard, Sarah then, moving into his space. It was more a slight disturbance of the air, a faint hint of her scent as she approached, rather than a sound. They were nearly at the end of a duty day that had gone on for way too long and he was tired and irritated.

  There was so much he never wanted her to know. Never would want her to live through. Because if he told her, he’d have to relive it all again. He’d have to reveal just what kind of a man he’d become in the minutes after Jack died. It was a nightmare, one he wished had been lived by someone else.

  He walked back to his office, felt her by his side. Steadfast. Solid. Unbreakable.

  He braced his hips against the edge of his desk and folded his arms across his chest. Saw her gaze flicker to the combat patch on his right shoulder. Saw the sadness and regret and yes, understanding, in her deep brown eyes.

  “It’s hard, isn’t it?”

  He rested his hands on the edge of his desk and unlocked his ankles. She stood at the toes of his boots and he wanted to move so that she stood between his knees. He wanted to touch her and pretend that all the history between them didn’t exist. That they were starting new and fresh. That the sexual tension between them wasn’t tainted with death and old memories.

  “We make mistakes downrange, Sarah. Shit happens. We train to do the right thing but when it comes down to it, I want my men to do what it takes to come home.”

  She shifted then and she was standing between his knees. “I know. I wish civilians didn’t die but I can’t judge men for actions during war. I simply won’t do it.”

  Sean snorted and shook his head. “That’s exactly what you have to do. You’re investigating why Smith and Kearney hate each other. You have to put the escalation of force incident in your report. You are very much passing judgment, Sarah.”

  She was so close. The faint hint of her scent wrapped around him, clinging to his senses. His mouth went dry and he swallowed as she rested her hand on his waist. “I might have to assess but I’m not judging you for giving your men the benefit of th
e doubt,” she insisted, her voice like chocolate silk, her gaze dropping to his mouth.

  He reached over and swung his door shut. He barely noticed the bang of the thin wood against the frame. Still they didn’t move. Their bodies barely touched, except where her hand rested on his waist.

  “I don’t want to feel these things for you, Sean,” she whispered. He shifted so that his mouth was a breath from hers.

  “What things?” He slipped his hands up, barely cupping her neck. His thumbs caressed the skin below her jaw and he felt a tremor deep in the muscle beneath his touch.

  “Respect. Admiration. Envy.” Each word brought their lips closer but still the touch he craved didn’t happen.

  His lips curled in a smile as he studied her features and lost himself in the depths of her deep brown eyes. “Those weren’t the things I was hoping for.”

  Her tongue flicked over her lips, drawing his gaze down to the glistening moisture. “What were you hoping for?”

  “Desire,” he whispered, tracing the word across her jaw with a breath of movement. “Need.” His breath slid over her ear and she shivered. “Arousal.”

  She tipped her chin, granting him access to the soft skin on her neck. Relief pulsed through him that she didn’t stiffen. Didn’t pull away.

  “You make me feel,” he whispered, skimming his teeth over the edge of her ear. “I can’t fight what you make me feel, Sarah.”

  Her other hand slid up and she was braced against him, her fingers digging into the muscles at his waist.

  He scraped his teeth along her jaw, the connection hard between them. Her fingers clenched on his waist and he felt her quick intake of breath. Electricity sparked between them and sent blood pooling in his groin. He hadn’t felt a want like this since…

  Since Sarah.

  He found her lips. Soft. Parted. He pinched her bottom lip between his teeth and watched as her eyes, deep with arousal, slipped closed. He wanted her. Oh God but the want was killing him, slowly, painfully, and with the most erotic pleasure.