by Sharon Sala
Six
Once they arrived on the tarmac, Adam and Yuki were welcomed onboard the chartered jet by a male flight attendant. His Slavic features were offset by the whitest blond hair Adam had ever seen.
“Good afternoon, sirs. I am Roland. Welcome to Indigo Charters. If you will both follow me, I’ll show you to your seats.”
Adam glanced out one of the windows as they moved toward the center of the plane and saw men loading their luggage onto the plane. He nodded in satisfaction.
“May I take your suit coats?” Roland asked.
Yuki took his off and handed it over, while Adam turned his back and held out his arms, waiting for the attendant to remove it.
Roland hung them up, then showed the men to their seats.
“Would either of you care for a drink before takeoff?”
Normally, Adam’s only drink of choice was sake, but after being rejected by Japan, he chose an American drink.
“Bourbon.”
“Yes, sir,” Roland said, then turned to Yuki. “And what about you, sir?”
“Sake,” Yuki said, and cleared his throat.
The brothers were buckling up as Roland returned with their drinks and a small plate of appetizers. “Lunch will be served after we have reached our altitude.”
Adam took the whiskey and downed it in one gulp. “Once more,” he said, as he set the shot glass back down on the tray.
Roland hastened to fill the order because the pilot was readying for takeoff.
Adam took the second drink and then held it between his palms as the pilot began to taxi toward the runway, while Yuki was pouring himself a second drink from the decanter of sake. Within a few minutes they were given the go-ahead for takeoff. As the jet began to move faster and faster, Adam leaned his head against the headrest and, for the first time, met his brother’s gaze and allowed himself to feel the pain. There was a moment of shared sorrow before he swallowed past the knot in his throat and looked away.
At this moment, he hated his father almost as much as he hated Judd Wayne.
* * *
Shelly knew by noon Sunday that she was going back to work. The job would be her saving grace. She didn’t have any idea how widows’ benefits worked in the Bureau and right now didn’t trust them to take any better care of her than they had Jack. She’d just received that step raise at work, which would make some difference in her take-home pay, and thanks to Jack’s foresight, the insurance policy they had on their home mortgage would pay off the house. She would figure out the rest of it as she went.
Having made that decision, she sat down at the kitchen table with a bowl of soup and the box of crackers. The soup was canned. The crackers were stale. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t taste it and ate only for sustenance.
Her phone rang again in the middle of her meal.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Mrs. McCann. This is Reverend Wilson, and I was wondering if I might stop by this afternoon to pay my respects.”
“No, you may not,” Shelly said. “I don’t know you, sir. I am not having a failure in my faith...only in the FBI. I am not discussing my life or my future with you. I do not need to be prayed over. I’ve spent the last four months alone waiting for my husband to finish this undercover job. It was going to be his last. Did you know that?”
“No, ma’am, I did not, but—”
“There are no buts. I made myself clear enough already. Please stop bothering me. Regardless of your title, you are a stranger. Do not call me again. Understood?”
She heard a sigh, then the man cleared his throat.
“Yes, ma’am, I understand. My sympathies to—”
Shelly hung up in his ear. “Still wanted to have the last word,” she muttered. “Probably runs over time with his sermons, as well.”
She looked down at the cooling soup but couldn’t manage another mouthful. She got up and poured it down the garbage disposal, tossed the stale crackers into the trash and refilled her sweet tea, then took it outside to the back patio.
The pool in the backyard sparkled in the sunlight. She looked away as she chose a seat in the shade, then set her glass of tea on the table, leaned back in the chaise lounge chair and glanced down at the sapphire ring she was wearing today.
The ache in her chest was a part of her now. She had accepted the grief as she might have accepted a broken leg. It had happened, now she had to figure out how to live with it until time wore away the sharp edges.
The privacy fence between her and her neighbors was eight feet tall, but she still heard voices and laughter, as well as the cry of a child who hadn’t gotten her way.
Someone else was playing music from her favorite station. She and Jack often made love to that music. Then she put a hand over her heart as new tears began to roll.
“Okay, God, I did not see this coming, and I’m not sure how I’m going to survive it without losing my mind. I need help, so anything positive that You can send my way will be appreciated.”
* * *
Jack was slowly gaining strength, drinking Paul’s beef broth without argument, understanding the need to rebuild the iron in his body. Every time he felt fatigue, which was often, he went right back to bed and slept his way through it. By the time Monday morning rolled around, he was extremely sore, but slowly gaining strength.
He ate what Paul put in front of him, thought of Shelly with every waking moment and dreamed of Adam Ito as he slept. This wasn’t over. It would never be over until Ito was either behind bars or dead.
* * *
Charlie was at work Monday when Fred came up to his desk with a manila envelope.
“This was dropped off for you,” he said.
“Thanks,” Charlie said. “Just lay it on the desk. I need to finish my thought on this report.”
“Will do,” Fred said, and headed back to his desk.
A couple of paragraphs later, Charlie ended the report and had just hit Save when he got a call from Alicia.
“Hey, babe, what’s up?” Charlie asked.
“Honey...you need to come home. My water broke. It’s time to go to the hospital.”
Charlie was between panic and joy.
“Now? Oh my God. It’ll take me thirty minutes to get there and another twenty to get you to the hospital. Are you going to be okay for that long?”
“I don’t know!” Alicia said. “Mom and Dad are on their way here to bring us some produce from their garden. They should be here anytime.”
“Then have them take you to the hospital and I’ll meet you there, okay?”
“Yes, okay. I’m so excited, but I’m scared, too.”
“I know, baby, but it’s going to be alright. I will be there waiting when you get there. I won’t let you down.”
“I know. Oh—Mom and Dad just pulled up into the driveway.”
“Great!” Charlie said. “I’ll see you soon. I love you so much. We’re finally going to meet our little guy.”
Alicia laughed nervously. “Gotta go let them in the house. See you soon,” she said.
“Tell your dad I said to drive carefully. He’s carrying precious cargo.”
“I will. I love you,” Alicia said.
Charlie’s heart was pounding as he hung up, but he was smiling. He called the deputy director, told him what was happening and where he was going, and gave Fred a thumbs-up as he left the office.
“It’s go time,” he said. “Alicia is on the way to the hospital.”
“Fantastic,” Fred said. “Drive safe.”
Charlie laughed. “That’s the same message I sent to my father-in-law.”
* * *
It rained in the night.
Shelly woke to the sound of it blowing against the bedroom windows and got up to watch the storm. It was coming down hard enough that the streetlights were merely
smudges of yellow on a charcoal canvas. She hoped Jack wasn’t working out in this weather—and then she remembered. Wherever he was, the weather wasn’t going to affect him.
She crawled back into bed, but the ache in her chest was too big to contain. She rolled over onto her side and cried herself to sleep. The next time she woke up, the alarm was going off and her cell phone was ringing. When she saw it was her office calling, she quickly answered.
“Hello?”
“Shelly, it’s Willard Bates. I’m so sorry to be calling you this early, but we’re calling all of the employees to catch them before coming in to work today.”
Shelly sat up. “What’s wrong?”
“Not exactly sure how it happened, but the sprinkler system went off in the office last night and everything is saturated.”
“Oh no! Are the computers ruined, too?”
“We don’t yet know the extent of damage,” he said. “But we have the assurance of knowing our backups are all safely stored in the home office’s security system.”
“Oh, that’s right! Thank goodness.”
“At any rate, just consider the first part of this week as days off with pay. I’ll be sending out group texts to keep everyone updated as it goes, and you’ll receive notice when it’s safe to come back to work the same way.”
“Alright. Thank you for letting me know before I got out into the middle of traffic. I’m so sorry this happened.”
“Of course, and so are we. I’ll be in touch.”
The call ended.
Shelly put down the phone and then got up to go to the bathroom. Normally, having extra days off with pay would be welcome, but not this time. She didn’t know what to do with herself or how to spend this day. Then she heard her phone signal a text and glanced at it. It was from Charlie. She pulled up the text and then sighed.
We have our boy. Eight pounds, two ounces and twenty-one inches long. We named him Charles Jonathon and will call him Johnny. Mother and baby are doing fine.
She sent a simple Congratulations, then went to get dressed. That’s how the universe works, she thought. One life ends as another begins. While some people are so deep into grief they can’t function, others are celebrating wonderful milestones. It felt like a slap in the face to know how happy they were, while she was dying inside. Her voice was shaking, her words bitter on her tongue.
“Yes, Lord, thank You for the reminder that the world does not revolve around me.”
* * *
Jack had slept through the rain, but the evidence of it was still there when he woke to sunshine Monday morning. Water was dripping from everything into glistening puddles.
When he got to the kitchen, he found a note from Paul telling him to help himself to cereal and coffee, and that he was going to the supermarket and wouldn’t be long.
Jack ate a bowl of cereal standing up at the sink, then took his coffee outside. The day was already steamy, but the sun felt good on his face. He was grateful to be alive.
He took a sip of his coffee and made a face. It was too strong and too bitter for his taste, which made him think of the coffee Shelly made. It was always good. He longed to hear the sound of her voice. He wanted to call her and let her know he wasn’t dead. But good sense told him now was not the time and to let it go.
Instead, he focused on a flock of monk parakeets taking flight from the queen palms around the pool at the house next door. From a distance, their flashy green feathers made them look a bit like green leaves caught within a gust of wind. When he looked up and saw the silhouettes of seagulls as they flew against the bright blue sky, he wondered how anyone could doubt the presence of a higher being. None of this was accidental evolution...it was God-sent.
And after what had gone down during this last bust, there wasn’t enough money in the FBI budget that could keep him in undercover work. He wanted out. And he would have questions when he finally got to come in from the job, not the least of which had to do with the suspicious coincidence of having one of his personal snitches show up on Dumas’s crew.
Jack closed his eyes, reliving the moment when he recognized Ritter. But as he did, he suddenly realized something he had forgotten in the ensuing chaos.
When Jack first saw Ritter standing beside Dumas, he was looking straight at him, but not in surprise.
“As if he knew I would be there,” Jack muttered.
It was the first time he’d thought about someone on the outside possibly giving away his presence on Adam Ito’s team, but to his knowledge, no one outside of the Bureau had known. He filed the thought away for another day and finished his coffee. He was dozing out in the sunshine when he heard a car coming up the drive. He went back inside the house to make sure it was Paul, and it was. Jack unlocked the front door and started to go out to help.
Paul had both arms full and was heading to the house when he saw Dude come out.
“No, no! Stay inside. I’ve got this,” he said.
Jack didn’t argue, but he did hold the door open, and then again when Paul went back to bring in the rest of the groceries.
“Lock us in,” Paul said, as he walked in with the last load.
Jack did as he was asked, then followed Paul to the kitchen.
“Been up long?” Paul asked, as Jack sat down.
Jack nodded. “Awhile.”
Paul put a package of cookies on the table.
“Oreos, Dude. Knock yourself out.”
Jack grinned. Paul was still a kid about some things, and Oreo cookies were at the top of the list.
“I’m good for now,” Jack said.
Paul shook his head. “Man, you don’t know what you’re missing,” he said, then opened the package and popped one in his mouth as he finished putting up the purchases.
Jack started to refill his coffee, then winced at the weight of the full carafe.
Paul heard him grunt and turned to look at what was happening, then frowned. “Are you hurting?”
Jack nodded. “Some.”
“Let me see,” Paul said, then pulled up the back of Jack’s shirt and lifted a corner of the bandage to take a look at the bullet wound on Jack’s shoulder. “Well, hell. Looks as if you have an infection. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. That open wound was in the bay, for God’s sake. I’m calling Muncy.”
Jack frowned. That explained why he felt the way he did, but this was a delay in his healing he didn’t want.
Paul saw the frown. “You need antibiotics, Dude. If Muncy doesn’t have anything, you are gonna have to think about going to a doctor.”
Jack didn’t comment. He knew who he could call, but that would mean the Bureau knowing he was alive, and once they knew that he’d risen from the dead, so to speak, so would Adam Ito. And if Ito knew Jack was alive, it didn’t matter how well Jack might hide. Ito wouldn’t mess around looking for Jack. He’d go straight for the people Jack loved and make Jack come to him.
Paul was on the phone now, talking to Muncy, and while Jack was getting only one side of the conversation, he guessed Muncy was coming over.
“He’s on the way,” Paul said, hanging up.
Jack nodded. “Sorry about this.”
Paul frowned. “Don’t talk stupid, Dude. I’m starting to like you.”
Jack reached across the table, got an Oreo out of the open package and toasted Paul with it before putting the whole thing in his mouth.
Paul grinned. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”
About twenty minutes later, Muncy Peters arrived. Jack was already back in bed with a growing headache and a fever to match. He heard the men talking as they came down the hall toward his room, and then they were inside.
Muncy stopped beside the bed, then frowned as he touched Jack’s forehead and chest.
“He’s running a fever, for sure.” Then he met Jack’s gaze. “Feelin’ pretty rough
?”
“I wasn’t, but as the day progresses, I’d say yes,” Jack said.
“Well, let’s see what’s happening beneath your bandage,” Muncy said. “Turn over on your side.”
Jack gritted his teeth as he rolled over, then moments later felt Muncy removing the bandage.
“Oh hell no,” Muncy muttered.
“That good, is it?” Jack asked.
“It’s not unusual, but because you aren’t on IV antibiotics, it’s gotten a pretty good jump on us. Don’t worry, we’ll get you fixed up,” Muncy said.
“How is it you have all this stuff on hand?” Jack asked.
Muncy snorted softly. “Son, you can buy anything if you know where to look for it. They sell pretty good first aid kits online, too. The kind that hunting and fishing guides might carry with them when they’re up in the wilds. Now hang on to somethin’, cause this is gonna hurt like a son of a bitch.”
Jack barely had time to react before a sharp, stabbing pain shot through his shoulder and all the way up through the top of his head. He groaned and then gave up to the shadows pulling him under.
“He passed out!” Paul said, looking worried.
“Good,” Muncy replied. “I don’t know what he’s been doing, but he’s pulled a couple of stitches loose, too.” He proceeded to clean up the wound, which started it to bleeding. Before he put another bandage on it, he poured some white powder down into the wound, then gave him another shot of antibiotic.
“What’s the powder stuff?” Paul asked.
“Technically, it’s sulfanilamide, aluminum sulfate and titanium dioxide, a clotting agent with antibiotics in it. I’m also leaving these capsules. Tell him to take two pills, twice a day. There’s a ten-day supply in the bottle. If he’s still sick after that, he better get his ass to a hospital.”
“Yes, I’ll tell him,” Paul said. “Why isn’t he waking up?”
Muncy frowned. “Because he’s weak, and now he’s sick, too. His body needs the rest. Just make sure he gets plenty of fluids and as much sleep as he can manage.”
Paul nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I sure will, and I’ll happily pay you to replace what you used on Dude.”
Muncy shook his head. “Naw... I’ve got just as much invested in him getting well as you do now. It’s a matter of pride. I don’t like to lose a patient.”
