“We’re working on that. It’s complicated.”
“It always is. Will another team be sent, Colonel?”
“We’re working through channels to get their remains—”
“I was thinking about the rescue mission.”
Mac leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “No. I’ve been overruled.”
“There aren’t many people who can overrule you, Colonel.” Bartley drew a hand across his cheek, removing another tear.
“This guy can.” Mac leaned over the table. “Chaplain, I admired your brother. I passed over several people with seniority to make him team leader. There are many great men in the Army but only a handful like him. I have no children. The Army has been my life, my family. If I had a son, I would want him to be just like J. J.” Mac’s eyes burned.
“Thank you, sir. He . . . he thought the world of you. He prayed for you daily.” This time Bartley let the tears fall. “He once told me you had the most difficult job in the Army. Going into battle, he said, was easier that sending others in.”
“Thank you for sharing that.” Mac looked at Kinkaid. He sat like he had rebar in his spine. He always did. The only evidence of emotion was the trail of tears. Brave men cry.
“Has Tess been informed?”
“You’re the first. I’ve learned she’s home and not at the War College this week. I’m headed there next.”
Rubin spoke up. “Let me do that for you. You have your own emotion to deal with.”
Bartley shook his head. “Thank you, Rabbi, but no. She’s my sister-in-law. I need to be there for her. Then I’ll tell my parents.”
That almost undid Mac.
Rubin’s voice was kind but firm. “I could order you not to go.” He waited for Bartley to respond. “You’d go anyway, wouldn’t you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“BOSS, I THINK SOMETHING is wrong with the Joker’s truck.” Pete stood at the pharmacy’s front window and looked down the street. They stopped a few meters away from the entrance. “I think it’s leaning to one side.”
J. J. stepped to the widow. He snapped around and pointed to Aliki, Nagano, and Crispin. Then with two fingers, he motioned to the back door. He repeated the motion with Pete and Jose, this time pointing to the front. Aliki’s team was on the move before J. J. finished the second set of gestures. J. J. keyed his mike. “Go.”
He snapped the door open, M4 directed to the left, then the right, then up to the roof. He saw no one; saw no movement. His team put distance between themselves to keep from being one target.
Weapons raised, they trotted to the vehicle. Jose moved to the driver’s side; Pete took the opposite; J. J. worked his way around to the back. He scanned the rooftops again, then set a hand on the rear door handle. Pete and Jose were at his side, barrels pointed at the door. J. J. gave a nod then swung the door open. His men had the barrels of their weapons in the opening before he could pull the door to the stops.
“Clear,” Pete said.
Jose returned to the side of the vehicle. “Two flat tires, Boss.”
“Boss, Joker.” The words poured into J. J.’s head from the ear set.
“Go.”
“Two flat tires. Someone cut the stems.”
“Roger that. Same here. We’ve had company. Take your team north for two blocks then come around to our position. We’ll do the same to the south.”
“Roger. One other thing, Boss, and you ain’t gonna like it. CONNIE is gone. We’ve been robbed.”
“Standby.” J. J. looked in the van Aliki had been driving. To his relief, he saw Crispin’s kit. “Hawkeye, your toys are still here. I want you over here double-time.”
“On my way, Boss.”
It took only a moment for Crispin to make his way from the alley, through the shop, and into the street. He didn’t acknowledge the others. Instead, he leaped into the back and knelt by his bag of tricks. Using his tactical light, he rummaged through the gear. “It’s all here. Why did they take CONNIE but not this? I mean this stuff is uber special.”
“My guess is that it was one guy. Several men might have taken us on. One guy would just try to slow us down. Your kit is a tad awkward to carry.”
“You got that right, Boss.”
“Not only that,” Pete said, “but the store front window gave us a view of the van. Not the side with the flats, but he might not have wanted to risk being seen. We had no direct view of the alley.”
“Great,” J. J. said. “Colonel Mac is gonna make me pay for that thing. I should’ve posted a man at the door.” I’ve got to learn to think ahead more. How did Moyer do this? “Junior, I want you and Hawkeye on one of the roofs.” He looked at Crispin. “I assume the roof would be a better advantage for you to work your magic.”
“It would, Boss.”
“Can you do this in the dark?”
“No sweat.”
“Then get your skinny butt up there. I want you to scan the area. Keep an eye out for the bad guys. The women have to be fairly close. Doc, how far can a woman with asthma run?”
“If she’s having an attack—and I’m guessing she wouldn’t have broken into a drugstore unless she had a big need for meds—with this air and the stress she’s under, well, I don’t think she can go very far.”
J. J. pointed a finger at Crispin. “Find her, Hawkeye.”
“Yes, Boss.”
TESS PUT DOWN THE novel and stretched. She was wasting the day and loving every minute of it. Sometimes a woman just needed some downtime. After her coffee chat with Lucy, she returned to the apartment and planned her day: read, snack, nap, snack, read, watch a stupid movie, and then snack. That evening she would go out for dinner, treat herself to a romantic comedy at the theater while gorging on buttered popcorn, return home, sleep, and start a new diet tomorrow. Yep, the plan was inspired. This was a perfect day.
There was a knock at the door.
She rose and a powerful sense of worry settled in her stomach. Odd.
Slowly, Tess opened the door and saw Colonel Mac and J. J.’s brother. Commanding officer and chaplain.
Everything went dark and the floor rose to meet her.
CHAPTER 20
TESS HAD NO IDEA how she made it from the apartment’s front door to the sofa, but there she was: on her back, a blurry ceiling above her, someone was holding her hand and rubbing her arm.
“Stay still.” Familiar voice, one that brought more fear. Not danger, just the crushing ache of sadness. Everything inside her hurt, as if someone cored her out, blended her internal organs, and poured the goo back inside.
She blinked and the ceiling came clear. So did the voice. Paul Bartley sat on the coffee table and held her hand. At the foot of the sofa stood Colonel Mac. Another man she didn’t recognize stepped into view holding a glass of water. Why did people offer water at difficult times as if it were a magical elixir?
“Slow, even breaths, Tess.” Bartley spoke softly but the strain in his voice was easy to detect. She faced him. His eyes were red and swollen. An athletic man who enjoyed the outdoors, he wore a year-round tan. He looked ghostly.
Tess pulled her hand free and raised it to her face. She didn’t want to see; didn’t want to feel. No one spoke the news but they didn’t need to. When a man’s commanding officer and one of the base chaplains show up at the door without an invitation, it could only mean one thing.
“When?”
“A short time ago,” Bartley said. “I heard about it less than an hour ago.”
“It would have been early morning our time,” Mac said.
“And you’re just now getting here?”
“That’s my fault, Tess,” Mac said. “I had to make a trip to DC.”
“The president knows?” She pushed herself up. The room spun like a top. It took a moment for things t
o settle.
“Yes.”
“Here, drink this.” The strange man, dark complexion, dark kind eyes, held out the glass. She took it. As expected, it didn’t help. “Who are you?” She looked at his uniform and recognized the chaplaincy badge.
“This is Colonel Joel Rubin. He’s the command chaplain of Fort Jackson.”
“I’m sorry to meet you under these circumstances.” His voice was kind but it was clear he had said those words more times than he could count. “I am very sorry for your loss, Dr. Rand.”
“Bartley. I’m a Bartley these days.” She handed the glass of water back. “Kyrgyzstan?”
“You know I can’t discuss such things, Tess.” Normally those words would have been snapped out, but Mac seemed to choke on them. Tess aided Colonel Mac several times, providing information that might be useful to teams in the field. It was an odd relationship. Only her expertise allowed the Army to look the other way while the wife of a team member gave advice to a man who sent her husband into impossible situations.
“I’m not asking, Colonel. I know J. J. and the team were doing training at Manas. I’m guessing the rest. Am I wrong?”
Mac didn’t respond.
“I didn’t think so. Okay. I’ve prepared myself for this. I married J. J. knowing this could happen.” She stood and swayed for a moment. “I’m not the first wife to go through this. I’ll miss him of course. He was the . . . love . . . I’ll be fine. I-I need to make plans . . . plans . . . his parents.” She paused, then raised her hands to her face again. It began with a whimper, then a sob, then a scream muted by her hands.
She tried to quell the storm of sorrow, to tame the unrelenting hurricane of grief. Her head spun. Her knees gave way but she didn’t fall. Paul Bartley stood in front of her, his strong arms wrapped around her, providing the strength that had abandoned her. She made one effort to push away but it lacked power and conviction.
She needed to be held; needed the support of someone as wounded as she.
The sound of sobbing filled her ears. It took a second for her to realize the deeper tones came from Paul Bartley.
In a small apartment, in a medium-sized city, in a small state in a large country, on a planet in the corner of countless galaxies, the universe collapsed.
“NO GOOD, BOSS.” PETE’S voice poured through the earpiece.
“You know how unhappy bad news makes me.”
“I do, that’s why Weps is gonna finish the story.”
A moment passed before Nagano came on. J. J. looked down the street from his position at the intersection just north of the pharmacy. He could see the van in the street with two of his soldiers hunkered over one of the flat tires. At the south intersection he could see Aliki scanning the streets. So far, no movement.
“Boss, what Junior is too chicken to say is the spare from the other vehicle won’t work. Different size, different lug nut configuration. Different makes; different countries.”
The plan was to use the spare tires from both vehicles to get one up and moving. A good idea gone bust.
“Understood.”
“What now, Boss?”
He had no idea. “Joker, pull back to the vehicle.” J. J. turned and double-timed it down the street.
They gathered around the vehicle. J. J. looked at his men. “Okay, this is how I see it. Whoever did this was alone or maybe had just one partner. Had there been a team of them, they might have taken us on, or set up sniper positions and popped us as we came out. A trained sniper might have given it a go, but the odds would be against success. Two or three men would be needed to make things work.”
“It also means the guy isn’t packing a high-power automatic. He could have gotten my team or yours.”
“Yep, but not both. That was his problem. The question is: Is he coming back with some pals? I don’t like standing around here. Right now, we’re nothing but good target practice.”
“So what’s the call, Boss?” Pete asked.
“Everyone on the roof. I want to check on Hawkeye. He should be up and ready to go.”
“Boss, I recommend we split the team. Let’s not put all our eggs in one basket.” Aliki stood close to J. J. and seemed to be focused on J. J.’s face.
“Agreed. Joker, you, Weps, and Junior take up a position on one of the roofs. Pick one with good cover. I’ll join Hawkeye and Doc. Maybe we can see something from an elevated position. Go.”
The men hustled into the dark. J. J. found the access ladder to the roof over the pharmacy and made his way up. With each rung he rose, he thought of Tess and the babies. A sense of ill ease percolated in him. He was a man of faith but he was not superstitious, nor did he believe in ESP.
So why was he so worried about her?
TESS MADE COFFEE. SHE didn’t want coffee. Didn’t want tea. She offered both to Bartley. He wanted nothing. She knew what she was doing: finding stuff to do to fill every second; to avoid every thought. It was futile. She burst into tears every five minutes. When she wasn’t crying, Bartley was, not as loudly, but with as much conviction.
“I let my parents know,” he said. “I called them before coming over here.”
“How are they doing? Sorry, dumb question. What I mean is . . . I don’t know what I mean.”
“You’re asking how they’re dealing with the news.”
“That’s it. My brain is muddled.”
He took a ragged breath. “Everything is muddled.” It took a second before he answered the question. “They’ve prepared for the phone call. Every Army parent does. Doesn’t make it any easier, but at least they have a script running in their head about what to do in that moment. I spoke to Dad. He’s made of granite. Mom, eh, not so much.”
“That had to be the most difficult phone call ever.” Tess moved out of the kitchen and to the sofa. She fell to the cushion.
“I went into minister mode. That helped me get through it.”
“Minister mode?”
“Ministers, especially chaplains, are called on to deliver the worst kinds of news. If you don’t know the people involved it’s a little easier, but it is never easy. After awhile, a minister learns to invest everything into the one they’re helping. They have to if they want to be of any value, but what they never tell you is, we do it to shield ourselves from ourselves.”
“And that works?”
“It’s a temporary measure, but it helps. You see it when a mother busies herself taking care of the children. Thinking about them helps her deal with her own pain . . .”
Tess bolted to her feet and moved to the window, turning her back on Bartley. She placed both hands on her belly.
“I’m an idiot, Tess. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yes, I did. I made a careless statement without considering the situation.” He stepped to her side and put his arm around her shoulder. She could feel his hand shake. “I guess my brain is muddled too.”
Tears escaped her eyes: rivulets of sorrow.
“You won’t be alone, Tess.” There was tremor in her brother-in-law’s voice. “You have family. You and the kids will have me.”
“I know, it’s just . . .”
“I’m not trying to be a replacement for J. J., but you are family. You are the sister I never had. When J. J. married you, he improved himself and our family.”
“I feel so lost.” She looked at the carpet. “I used to be so independent, so focused on what I want. J. J. was such a surprise. I put myself through college and graduate school. I earned my PhD and I thought that was the greatest thing I could do, then I met J. J. He became my world. Now, I’m pregnant and that has changed my outlook on everything.”
She looked up again, staring out the window, seeing nothing. “I’ve become an expectant mother and widow within a few months
of each other. How wrong is that?”
“Very wrong. Life has never been fair. Not this life anyway.”
She blinked back a few more tears. “I’ve tried to pray, Paul, I can’t get the words out.”
“Me either. Prayer has always been the first thing I turn to. I can’t seem to get that to work.”
“Has God abandoned us?” Tess avoided eye contact.
It took longer for Bartley to answer than she expected. She assumed he had a ready answer to a question he must have heard a hundred times.
“Faith is a wrestling match, Tess. At least it is for me. J. J. always seemed better able to trust God. I have always had to work through the theology of it.”
“And you’re the one who became a chaplain.”
He forced a smirk. “Go figure. No, I don’t think God has abandoned us. You are solid in your faith. I’ve seen it. So I’m not telling you anything new here, but the Bible never says we will be protected from trouble. We are promised wisdom and courage in times of trouble. Christians suffer like everyone else.”
“I feel abandoned.”
“Of course you do. You have a right to feel that way. Truth is, I’m more than a little angry with God right now. I’ve told Him so. Not much sense in pretending otherwise.”
“Did He respond?”
“You know I don’t hear an audible voice. God could do that if He wants but He’s never done it with me. God speaks louder than that.” He lowered his arm and put his hands in his pockets. “When I told God how furious I was over this I got the impression He was saying, ‘I know.’ No condemnation, just a sense of love and tolerance. He understands.”
“Do you think we’ll ever understand?”
“Not in this life, Tess. Not in this life.” A few moments passed. “Do you want me to call your parents?”
“No, I’ll do it. I’ll call from the phone in the bedroom.”
He nodded. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
“How long do you think it will take for Chaplain Rubin and Colonel Mac to visit the other families?”
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