She nodded. He’d be so close. Maybe he’d sense something?
“One noise.”
Charles wrapped her mouth again, taking less care in securing the rag. He shoved her to the floor and left the room.
He left the lights on.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Neil knew his way around base better than any marine there. As day turned to night, traversing known passages into the base became easier. Not much had changed since he was a kid there with his father. Teenagers always wanted to know a way off base. Who knew he’d be sneaking back in so many years later.
One singular thought kept his feet moving.
Gwen.
Getting to her, keeping her safe. The sick thought that maybe something had already happened tried to inch into his brain, but he refused to hear it.
She’s fine, he told himself.
Perfectly fine.
It took twenty minutes to cross the base and meet the bottom of the hill where Blayney’s house perched. He paused for a moment and looked up at the dark windows.
Was he even there? Was Gwen?
Neil banked on the chance that without word from Mickey, Chuck would think the worst of his grunt. Logic told Neil that Chuck would use Gwen as a hostage at that point. Unless he gave up.
Neil had yet to meet a marine who gave up.
Chuck wouldn’t be the first.
A light flickered inside the house, evidence that someone was inside.
Neil circled around the back, hopped the fence, and ducked under the dark kitchen window. He took a small mirror from his field jacket and angled it on the floor to see inside the house from the back door.
The kitchen was empty. A light from the hall was on.
Neil held his breath and waited for the phone to ring. He told Blake to give him forty minutes to get into position. He had five minutes to wait.
Five minutes of absolute terror that he was waiting five minutes too long to help his wife.
The image of Chuck harming her made his fist clutch and his back teeth grind together. Sitting immobile for five lousy minutes left him shaking. When the phone finally rang, Neil nearly missed the sound.
The second ring grabbed his attention and sprang him into action.
The back lock to the sliding glass door was easily breached. The major wasn’t hypervigilant about his safety.
Stupid man.
Neil eased the door open enough to hear the one-sided conversation.
“Mr. Harrison? Yes…I was told you were here.” Chuck’s voice was on edge. Something Neil recognized but Blake wouldn’t. Neil closed the back door quietly behind him and locked it. He ducked behind the island before he made it to the back hall.
“No,” Neil heard Chuck say.
Neil moved up the stairs every time Chuck spoke.
“How did you get my number?”
Neil hesitated.
“Oh, I see. Yes…they were here.”
Neil moved up the stairs and to the room he and Gwen shared. Inside the room was dark. A part of him expected to see her there.
She wasn’t.
He moved quietly about the space, looking for evidence that she had been there.
Nothing…the room was bare of anything personal.
Gwen was gone.
The house had gone quiet. He didn’t hear the major…didn’t hear any other person in the home. Neil tiptoed from the guest room and glanced into the master bedroom. It too was dark. From what Neil could tell Ruth was gone, too.
Downstairs a door shut, and then quiet resumed. Neil lent his ear to the hall desperate to hear anything.
A loud thump brought him to a stand and soon after he heard a door slam.
Halfway down the stairs, he heard Chuck’s voice. “Yes. I’m expecting a guest.”
Neil waited, dropped down three more stairs. “Mr. Harrison. Right. In twenty minutes. No. He won’t be here long.”
Neil froze. Blake was on his way?
Neil retreated down the back stairwell to regroup. Blake needed to stay away. The last thing Neil needed was a civilian fucking things up. Not when Neil had no idea where Gwen was.
Neil removed his M9 and positioned it in front of his chest before he inched his way into the room with Chuck.
Chuck stood in front of his desk in his office. A cigarette smoked in a nearby ashtray. Neil didn’t remember the major smoking before.
Could this man…the one who’d been there early in his military career, be responsible for so much pain? For Mickey’s death? For Billy’s?
With his back to him, Chuck stared out the window. “You going to use that weapon, soldier?”
Neil kept his gun steady. His jaw stiffened, his mind remembered better times.
He shook his head.
“Where’s Gwen?”
Chuck picked up his cigarette, sucked it down, blew it through his teeth. “Not sure why I quit. There’s nothing quite like balancing life and death through such a simple device.” He stared at the tip of his cigarette and sucked in another lungful of nicotine.
Neil’s trigger twitched. “Where is she?”
Chuck glanced to the floor over his shoulder. “Drop the gun, Mac.”
“Where’s my wife?”
Chuck laughed. The sound grated on Neil’s raw nerves.
The major turned, removed the cigarette from his lips, and blew the smoke over his head as if he had nothing to care for in the world.
It pissed Neil off.
“Where is she?”
“Drop the weapon.”
Neil glared. “Why should I?’
“You want to see her again? Drop the gun.” The arrogant bastard sucked on his cigarette again. He knew damn well Neil wouldn’t squeeze the trigger without knowing where Gwen was. His enemy knew his weakness and was using it against him.
Neil purposely took two strides closer before uncocking his weapon and tossing it to the floor well out of Chuck’s reach.
Chuck witnessed the weapon skitter across the floor with a smile.
“And the others?”
Neil swallowed. No use pretending not to know what the man in front of him taught him. Neil lifted his right leg, removed the smaller revolver, and tossed it to the floor.
Chuck witnessed the disarming as if bored. He made a small rolling motion with his fingers and Neil removed a third gun from the small of his back. Other than his cell phone and a knife, he didn’t have anything left.
Major Blayney moved slowly to his desk.
Neil was too far away to rush the man, so he waited until his next move.
From behind the major’s back the man produced a service weapon.
No surprise.
Instinctively, Neil moved to the side. No need to give the man a broad target.
“Step back, Mac.”
Two steps later Neil held his ground. “Where is she?”
Chuck’s eyes lingered beyond Neil for a moment, in the direction of the kitchen.
He waved his gun. “In the back.”
“I’ve been in the kitchen. She’s not there.”
Chuck smiled. “You didn’t look very hard, soldier.” Chuck waved the gun again.
Neil followed the barrel of the gun and took several steps back. The island in the kitchen met his back and Chuck moved around him to the pantry and opened the door. He nodded inside.
“Go.”
Neil thought of the small space and considered himself trapped if he moved inside.
“Fuck you.”
“Gwen’s in there.”
Neil hesitated. He didn’t hear her…didn’t see her. “You’re full of shit.”
“Gwen’s inside, Mac. Why would I lie to you now?”
Neil cringed. His mind brought to the surface nightmares of Gwen’s torn body. Could Chuck have killed her and left her lifeless in the pantry? There was only one way to find out. And if she were gone…what was left for him? Could he survive her death? Was life worth living without her light?
He moved into
the pantry and noticed a door.
“Open it.”
Neil’s stomach was in his throat as he reached for the knob on the door. The slow twist was met with little resistance. The lack of a lock made him think the worst. Chuck would have locked a live person inside…right?
Unable to stop himself, Neil swung open the door and encountered a rickety set of wooden stairs descending into a basement. Lights flashed from below.
“Go.”
Neil placed a foot on the step, a second one…then he heard it. The muffled voice. A high-pitched voice.
He leapt down the stairs and saw her.
Alive.
Never in his life did he feel like crying with joy. He did now. He rushed to her side, placing himself between her and Chuck. He reached for the gag in her mouth, noticed the red marks on her face and the bruise forming on her cheek.
Her eyes met his and tears sprang in them.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. This was all his fault. She wouldn’t be here had he not put his faith in Chuck.
“You’re here,” she choked between cracked lips.
“Isn’t that nice? The newlyweds reunited.”
Neil twisted to the man he once called his friend. “Why, Chuck? Why sacrifice us?”
Chuck narrowed his gaze. “You were supposed to take Raven out quietly. Not blow up his whole fucking family. That was imperative to the mission.”
“We weren’t responsible for the bombs.”
“You knew what he was capable of. Take out the single target and come home. Then Washington would have been happy. They didn’t need to know who called the order. Didn’t need to know.”
Neil squinted his gaze. “Washington didn’t know about Operation Raven? You called it on your own?”
“Suits don’t know how to run a war. Take out the leaders and the fucks willing to kill their own kids for their cause…that’s what had to happen.”
Neil was starting to see the picture now. “You’re about to retire. No one would have known…”
“There’s an exit interview process. They’d already called Billy in to ask about me. Any of you could have uttered something and destroyed forty years of dedicated service. I couldn’t risk it.”
The irony was, Neil wouldn’t have said a thing. Neither would Rick…or Billy.
“Mickey’s dead,” Neil told him. Hoping to see some sort of recognizable emotion cross Chuck’s face.
Chuck shrugged. “Collateral damage,” he said. “Now back up.”
Neil bumped into Gwen, keeping her behind them. For the first time since walking into the basement, Neil noticed the twinkling lights and adolescent art and keepsakes all over the floor. Looked as if Gwen had been busy. Smart move, too. Chuck’s eyes shifted around the room and his gun arm started to waver.
“We’ve known each other a long time, Chuck. You knew my dad.” Gwen pressed up against his back. Her body trembled.
He reached one arm behind him and held the side of her body.
Chuck narrowed his eyes. “I’ve known lots of dead soldiers. What’s one more?”
Gwen twisted around behind him. He gripped her arm to keep her from moving in front of him. His fingers landed on something hard in her hand. It took a second to realize what she held.
Relief swept up his back. He wanted to praise her foresight right then but didn’t. Neil took the weapon and kept his hand behind his back. “So you kill me, kill Gwen. Then what? You don’t think I’d come here without telling someone, do you?”
“He said Blake was on his way here,” Gwen said. “Said he’d kill him if I made any noise.”
Chuck blinked, his eyes traveling between the lights and Neil’s face. “Blake knows I’m here. And he won’t arrive without backup.” Neil inched forward. “It’s over, Chuck. There’s no way out of this for you.”
His eyes focused on the barrel of the gun pointed at them, Neil held his breath and flinched with every movement Chuck made.
The tip of the barrel tilted to the floor. Neil jumped on Chuck’s show of retreat and swung Gwen’s gun in front of his chest. “Drop it.” Neil’s voice was deadly. He didn’t want to kill the major. He would. But he didn’t want to. “Do the right thing, Chuck. Drop it.”
Chuck’s eyes landed on the weapon Gwen had brought into the basement and he huffed out a laugh. His displaced humor was a testament to his mental state. Chuck’s gun hung to his side.
“You always were the smart one. Should have had Mickey take you out first.” Then, with no preamble and no warning, Major Chuck Blayney lifted the barrel of his weapon to his own head and squeezed the trigger.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Gwen felt the major’s intent as he lifted the weapon and she closed her eyes. Her scream echoed along with the blast from the gun. Her entire body shook as the room grew silent.
Neil’s arms gathered around her. She stumbled into him, buried her face in his shoulder.
“It’s over,” he cooed in her ear. “I’ve got you.”
Her knees went out from under her. Neil lifted and cradled her into his arms. He kept her as stable as a mother with a child, even with her hands handcuffed behind her back. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to open them until Neil had taken her up the stairs and set her gently down on a sofa.
He started to move away and she huddled closer. “Don’t go. Don’t go.”
“I won’t,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”
She blinked her eyes open. “Is he?”
“Yes.”
Her stomach rolled.
Neil reached around the sofa and pulled a blanket over her shoulders. His eyes met hers with such concern she wanted to weep. “He started acting strange after you left. Then Ruth went to Florida and he got worse. I tried to leave.” She shook, unable to control her body.
Neil rubbed his hands along her arms. “I didn’t know. I thought you’d be safe.”
Gwen attempted a smile. “I know. It’s not your fault.”
“He could have killed you.”
She tried to move her hands to comfort him, remembered the cuffs. “Can you get these off?”
He nodded, and looked behind her back. “You’re bleeding,” he said.
“Just a scrape. I’ll live.”
His fingers tugged at the cuffs and then he patted his pockets. “Do you know where he put the key?”
She shook her head.
Neil moved in front of her and laid a hand to her cheek. “The MPs will have a key. I need to call this in.”
When he did, the house would be swarming with military personnel. Her brother. “Make the call.”
He stood to walk away.
“Neil,” she said, stopping him. “Thank you for coming back to me.”
He reached down to her again, and brought his soft lips to her dry ones. He wiped a tear she didn’t realize fell from her cheek and picked up the house phone.
In less than two minutes, the house was filled with military police. Someone unlocked her hands, which she was sure would never feel normal again, and offered her a glass of water. The liquid trickled like fire down her throat.
A female sergeant sat at her side as Gwen answered questions. The MPs kept Neil away, probably asking him the same thing and making sure their stories didn’t vary. All the while Gwen kept saying to herself that it was over. All of it was over and they were both alive and whole.
A uniformed soldier approached her. “Miss Harrison?”
“It’s Mrs. MacBain,” she corrected the man.
“Seems your brother is outside and raising all kinds of hell. We have more questions and can’t release you yet. He wants to see you for a few minutes.”
“Of course.”
Someone helped her to her feet. When she made it to the door, she shook off the set of hands helping her. “I’ll be fine. He won’t leave if he thinks I’m hurt.”
Blake stood beside a military jeep, a cell phone in his hand and a guard by his other. He noticed her and pushed around the guard.
“I’m OK.”
He squeezed the air from her lungs. “You scared me to death, Gwendolyn.”
“I was scared to death.”
Blake pulled away and peered in the dark at her face. Good thing the light was bad. She knew how bad she felt and could only imagine how she looked. “Is Neil in there?”
“Yes. Talking with the authorities.”
Blake shook his head. “He should have kept you safe.”
“He did. I’m alive.”
Her brother didn’t seem convinced. “I need to get you home. Everyone is worried about you.”
“Tell them I’m fine. We’re both fine.” Rain started to fall and Gwen pushed a strand of hair from her eyes.
Blake caught site of her ring and grasped her hand.
“What’s this?”
“It’s called a wedding ring, Blake. Neil and I are married.”
Her brother narrowed his eyes and stared beyond her at the house.
“Listen,” she said as she placed her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Let one of these men know where you’re staying and we’ll be along as soon as we can.” She ran her hands along her shoulders, warding off the chill. “I would rather not stand in the rain. I’ve been cold enough for one lifetime.”
Blake shrugged out of his coat and laid it over her shoulders.
“Mrs. MacBain. We have more questions for you.”
Gwen turned toward the sergeant and offered a wan smile. “I’ll be right there.”
She kissed her brother’s cheek. “Go tell Samantha that we’re OK. She doesn’t need to worry.”
It was nearly dawn when Sergeant Piper told her she could leave. “That’s all we need from you for now, Mrs. MacBain.”
Gwen rubbed her tired eyes and watched dawn break through the bay window of the Blayney home.
“Where’s Neil?” She’d not seen him in hours. The coroner had arrived only a few minutes ago and she wanted nothing to do with witnessing Charles’s body come up those stairs.
“He’s in a debriefing.”
“He’s not here?”
The sergeant shook her head. “Left a while ago with an MP escort.”
“Is he under arrest?” She couldn’t imagine he left on his own without saying good-bye. Not after all they’d been through.
Fiancé by Friday Page 27
