by KaLyn Cooper
She’d stayed awake most of the night thinking about her future. She wanted to stay in Ethiopia and continue to work with her father. But Ryker didn’t have fond memories of the country and was anxious to return to the United States.
But what would she do in the U.S.? Maybe she should call Charley. The mission the family had done for the mysterious woman had been exciting, utilizing all Xena’s skills.
By dawn, she hadn’t made up her mind.
Standing in the heat on the black tarmac, she still hadn’t decided.
The sound startled her as she looked around for a train. Not quite accustomed to balancing on one leg and two crutches, Xena started to move like a Weeble toy.
“I’ve got you.” Ryker spread his legs and bent his knees to stabilize them both. He chuckled as the earth shook under their feet. “This is a sign from God to get on the airplane. You hate earthquakes.”
“You’re right. I hate earthquakes. I’ll go with you.” Talk about a last-minute decision. She’d packed a small overnight bag, just in case she changed her mind.
The earth stilled.
“That was a little one,” she noted.
“Let’s get out of here before the big one hits.” Ryker picked her up and carried her up the steps as though she weighed nothing. “You want me to go get the bag?”
“Yes, please. My pain meds are in there.” She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as the man she loved trotted down the steps and jogged across the tarmac.
“Good choice,” her brother said from the seat across from her. “He’s a good man.”
“He makes me happy.” She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Does Ashlin make you happy?”
Clint grinned. “I guess so. We’ll find out.”
Ten minutes later they were in the air in the most luxurious plane Xena had ever seen.
“This is your captain. We don’t have any flight attendants on board so make yourselves comfortable. The chairs recline completely, and the couch pulls out into a queen-size bed. Sheets, pillows, and blankets are in the cabinets just before you get to the galley. There are several meals in the refrigerator along with wine and beer. There are a few shot bottles of alcoholic spirits back there somewhere. I’ve also been told to expect a phone call in ten minutes. Captain out.”
Five minutes later, Xena’s satellite phone rang.
“Hello. This is Xena.”
“I heard you had quite an exciting evening. I have a few updates for you so I want you to put it on speakerphone.” Xena pressed the buttons and set the phone in the middle of the table.
“Charley, I’m here with Ryker and my brother Clint.”
“Captain Riggs, it’s a pleasure to speak with you again.”
“Ma’am,” was her brother’s only answer.
“I’m not sure if you’ve heard the news but Wesley Schultz obviously didn’t spend the rest of the night in his bed. The embassy gate was opened with his code at three twenty-two a.m. At six oh nine, the civil patrol found his body on the side of the road. His car is still missing but they are tracking the anti-theft codes. I’ll bet they find it in Djibouti with someone trying to sell it and ship it quickly to another country.”
“Highly probable.” Ryker sipped his bourbon on ice. “Don’t be upset if I don’t show up for the funeral.”
“Speaking of the funeral, the ambassador and his wife have already scheduled their flight home with his body. They’ll be taking off in a few hours. I don’t expect them to return to Ethiopia. Now, in other news, Nebil Yared was publicly executed by Kofi Tamru as a warning to others that it’s not wise to betray him.”
“Last, but certainly not least interesting, Ford Sutton, the vice president’s son, now sits on the board of Neberu Mining.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” Clint declared.
“No. Not at all. Perhaps Zesaro Neberu wants to get some of his money back, in favors if not in cash. Having an inside track to the vice president of the United States would be a valuable asset to anyone.”
“Ford wouldn’t be the first political child to sell access to high-ranking parents.” Xena added. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes. Ryker, I have three options available for you. First, you can be fully reinstated in the United States Navy and serve out your final two years as a SEAL. Second, you can accept a medical retirement with full benefits and retired pay based on time served. Third, if you take the second option, you can also go to work for me. You already know I pay generously.”
“Charley, I appreciate the offers.” He took Xena’s hand in his. “Right now, I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the rest of my life…beyond spending every minute I can with Xena.”
“I’ll give you two weeks to decide. Option one, two, or three. Enjoy your ride home.” The line went dead.
“I meant it.” Ryker squeezed their joined hands. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. What do you say?”
“I say you’d better ask Dad permission before you ask Xena to marry you.” Clint piped up from across the table.
“I already asked him.” He leaned over and kissed Xena. “I promised him I’d make you happy.”
“You already do make me happy.” She kissed him back.
“I don’t think that was much of a proposal, and where’s the ring?” Clint chided.
“And what grand gesture did you make proposing to Ashlin?” Xena really wanted to know.
“Shutting up now.” He rose from the table and moved to the back of the plane, flattening out the seat into a bed. “Hey, there will be no joining the mile-high club with me on board.” Clint turned out the lights in the back of the cabin.
“I’ll do it better next time, I promise. I’ll have a ring and everything.”
“And I’ll say yes.” Xena leaned in and kissed him. “I’d also say yes to the mile-high club but not while my brother is sitting five feet away and I have a bullet hole in my leg.”
“We’ll do that, too.”
Epilogue
“First, thank you all for coming to Indiana. Mom is thrilled to be feeding all these men.” Ryker looked down the long butcherblock table that had been used for decades to feed dozens of foster children, including himself. Moments ago, it had been piled nearly a foot deep with the remnants of another fabulous supper cooked by the woman he thought of as Mom.
“I know we’ve talked about this over the past two months, and I think we’re ready to move forward with it…if you are. Any questions before I ask for your commitment?”
“You said we don’t have to live here in Indiana?” Larson Aldrich, a.k.a. Keebler, scratched under the cast that would be removed from his leg next month.
“I’ll take this one,” Serena folded her hands on the table, her sparkling diamond and shiny gold band glimmering under the lights. “Since I’m going to be the back office coordinating everything for your missions, it doesn’t make any difference to me where you live. If there are no cell towers on your mountaintop, we’ll get you a satellite phone. You will need, though, a reliable Internet connection, one stable enough to handle our encryption programs.”
“But what if we want to live here?” Keene Soto, better known to everyone at the table as Gramps, gestured with both hands. “This is a beautiful place. You and Xena are building a new house on the property. So are Serena and Ajax. Is it possible that Frank and Nancy might sell us a patch of dirt, too, or is it limited to married couples?”
“I can’t speak for them, but you can always ask. They’ve told all of us who grew up here that we are to consider this home and are welcome to buy land from them. The money goes toward their retirement fund. When we’re finished here, we can go hunt down Mom and Dad.”
“I’m interested in their answer, too.” Kenner Lane added. Ryker was pleased that Viper might end up living so close.
“You were kind of vague before about the startup money. I’ve seen a lot of other guys get out of the military and try to do this kind of work. They failed miserab
ly because they ran out of money before the high-paying jobs started to come in.” Heath Kubiak wasn’t called Pitbull for nothing.
Ryker had to smile. He reached over and took his wife’s hand. “We haven’t talked a lot about the rescue, but it was multidimensional and complicated. The bottom line is that the rebels were being funded by gold stolen from the Neberu Mining Company. A few weeks ago, I got a call from its owner, Zesaro Neberu. He paid Xena and me five million dollars as a finder’s fee for discovering the thief and redirecting their attention to a mine they thought was barren. Turns out it has one of the deepest veins of gold in all of Ethiopia.”
Whistles came from everyone around the table.
“Okay, that gets us started, but what about missions? I guess at this point they’re really jobs?” Tavis Neade pushed the conversation in the direction Ryker had hoped. Bones had always been astute.
Ryker continued to smile. “Neberu also offered us a job, but we told him about the Holt Agency. He promised to recommend us for jobs to his billionaire friends. And you know Charley offered the same when she called for our answer about staying in or retiring.” His entire team had chosen the medical retirement with full benefits and retired pay. Although that offer made them reasonably comfortable, they were all still young and wanted to work.
He looked at Xena and nodded for her to continue. “The vice president called yesterday. Charley must have threatened him or something. He admitted that an apology was not good enough for what his cover-up cost everyone at this table.”
“Are you telling me that the fucking vice president of the United States was in on this?” Holden Billings seethed through clenched teeth. Loki was usually the joker on the team, but he’d been so much more serious since the rescue. He awkwardly picked up his still-healing arm and thunked the partial cast on the table.
“Yes,” Xena and Ryker said at the same time.
“He offered us a renewable marker. His exact words were, ‘Whatever you need, anytime you need it, I’ll do my best to make it happen.’ He knows we have him by the balls. If this cover-up were ever to come out, especially if he decides to run for the big office, every extended military family would be on the six o’clock news.”
“Does that mean he’s gonna throw jobs our way?” Bones asked.
“He did promise exactly that.” Ryker nodded. His gaze swept the table waiting for more questions. When no one spoke up, Ryker decided it was time to vote. “Everybody who wants to go to work for the Holt Agency, raise your hand.”
With nine hands in the air, Ryker raised his.
“Consider this your official welcome to the Holt Agency.”
The End.
Sneak Peek
If you’ve enjoyed reading Shadow in the Mountain by KaLyn Cooper, please consider reading the next book in the Shadow SEALS Series, Shadow of a Chance by Donna Michaels.
Here’s a sneak peek!
Shadow of a Chance/ Chapter One
The crack of a bat connecting with a ball echoed through the warm air, igniting a rush of cheers that yanked Chance from the ever-present inner hell consuming him of late. A shake of his head dispelled the dark thoughts and reset his focus on the eight-year-old version of his best friend running for first base.
Everyone occupying the nearby set of metal bleachers and portable folding chairs flanking the right side of the little league field shot to their feet to root for Robby as he rounded first and charged for second.
A rare smile tugged at Chance’s lips. The kid was an overachiever like his dad.
The very trait that had gotten the guy killed.
Guilt and anger swirled in Chance’s hollowed-out gut, decimating his smile as he clenched his jaw to keep the flow of obscenities to the confines of his mind. He might be leaning against a tree behind the crowd of spectators, but he was still within earshot. Vulgarity held no place in this family-oriented crowd.
It wasn’t as if he was in Virginia knocking back beers with his team. Fuck, no. Those days were gone. His presence was no longer welcome in O’Malley’s…or the Navy.
Nearly eleven months had passed since that doomed secret mission had sent him straight to purgatory. The mission that fueled his nightmares and haunted his waking hours.
Why the hell hadn’t he listened to his gut that day? A question he asked himself a hundredfold and still the answer eluded him.
Despite his name, Chance was never one to take unauthorized risks, so it ate at his soul knowing the one damn time he’d broken precedent by allowing his buddy to talk him into volunteering—instead of talking his buddy out of it—had cost him every fucking thing that had mattered.
His trident.
His reputation.
But more importantly, the life of his SEAL brother, his best friend, Luke.
He couldn’t bring his buddy back but he sure as hell could support the guy’s family, and he had ever since the day of friend’s death. It was now his main mission in life. So, when Luke’s wife, Marissa, had decided to move the kids to Delaware to stay with her mother, Chance had handled the packing up and selling of his late friend’s home as well as his own.
After all, he couldn’t keep an eye on Luke’s widow and two young sons from two states away.
That was over six months ago, and Chance had witnessed the resiliency of children firsthand. Bobby and his four-year-old brother, Alex, were doing better. So much so, that Marissa had put an offer on a house right down the street from her mother. The newer two-story was in a nice beachside neighborhood, and he knew his buddy would approve of the house and the fact it was located right next door to Luke’s brother and his family. Marissa would have a support system close by and the kids were excited at the prospect of living next to their cousins.
Only one obstacle stood in the way. The U.S. housing market.
Currently, it tipped heavily toward the seller. Obtaining a house for appraised value was out of the question. Marissa was in a bidding war, with her third and final bid maxing out her lender approval and what was left of Luke’s generous bereavement payout.
“I just put my final offer in,” she’d told Chance on the phone that morning, and as far as he knew, she was still waiting to hear if it was enough. “If that gets rejected, I’m going with Plan B.”
Plan B meant she’d make an offer on her second choice, an older home that needed work in a less than desirable neighborhood.
Wasn’t gonna happen. Plan B was not an option. Not on his watch.
He’d figure out a way for Luke’s wife and kids to get the house in their dream location, even if it meant he had to pay the sellers a visit. He was not above pleading. When you were left with nothing…pride was the last to go.
His sat under a pile of bullshit back in Virginia.
Pride was a useless emotion and useless was exactly how he felt with no money to add to Marissa’s offer, not that she was likely to accept it. Still, he wished he’d had something left from all his years in the service other than a bad taste in his mouth.
After the sale of his house, Chance had drained his account for something important for the kids. It was one of several things Marissa was unaware of and if given his way, that was exactly how it would stay.
She knew he had her six though, and that was what mattered. Showing up for as many of these games as possible mattered, too. Although Chance wanted to be at all of them, his shit job of washing cars sometimes got in the way. Since most companies wouldn’t hire a dishonorably discharged vet, he couldn’t afford to rock the boat or miss a day. Luckily, he was scheduled off today.
Coming to the game was as important to Chance as it was to Jimmy. He intended to make whatever sacrifices necessary to ensure his buddy’s sons didn’t miss out on anything else in life.
The cheers of the crowd rose an octave and once again, his attention shot to Robby in time to watch the boy slide safely into third.
Chance straightened from the tree, shoved a thumb and forefinger into his mouth and blasted out three shrill whistles—the
secret code concocted by him and Robby—to signal he was at the game.
The boy stilled and his eager gaze searched the crowd, stopping when he spotted Chance. A huge smile spread across Robby’s face as he puffed out his chest and flashed a thumbs up.
Chance returned the gesture and was lowering his hand when Marissa turned around from her stance on the bleachers and smiled at him, gratitude warm in her gaze. She pointed to the empty spot next to her and motioned for him to join her and Alex, who was pushing a toy truck on the bleacher, but as always, Chance shook his head. Every time he showed up at a game, she invited him to sit on the bleachers and each time he politely refused.
He was grateful as hell she never held him responsible for her husband’s death, but the woman was still grieving and would for some time. Greif clouded judgement and he didn’t want her to mistake his presence and support for something else. To him, she’d always be Luke’s wife, and that was a line he’d never cross. Their shared grief bonded them, but he would never want to be more than friends and was certain, deep down, she agreed.
Her repeated offer to sit with her was appreciated but to Chance, bleachers were for family. He didn’t deserve to sit there.
That was Luke’s spot.
The vibration of his phone in his pocket was such a welcome distraction he didn’t even glance at the caller ID before he answered. “Chance Reynolds.”
“Hello, Senior Chief Reynolds.” The woman’s voice was silky smooth, but her tone was cool and confident, more businesslike than social.
He stiffened. “If you know my rank then you know the Navy stripped it from me last year.”
“I know a great many things about you,” she replied. “Like the fact you served sixteen years in the Navy. Honorably. Until your buddy talked you into volunteering for an undercover mission that went sideways. I know you both discovered the VP’s son was involved in the anti-government cell you infiltrated. And that not long after you reported your findings all hell broke loose at the compound, Hernandez was killed, and you volunteered to take the fall when they wanted to pin it on him.”
