I'll Be Waiting (The Vault Book 2)

by A. M. Hargrove

  The door swung open and in strode a woman who was probably the tallest one I’d ever seen. Not that I was one to notice these things—okay I was a liar. I did notice. How could I not? She had legs that almost reached the ceiling. And long dark hair that nearly hit her ass. She stood in front of me and eyed me for a long, painful minute. I started squirming.

  “You about ready?”

  “Ready for what?” I asked.

  “To talk. You’ve been here going on four months now and all you do is mope around. That’s over. Starting right about”—she checked out her watch and said—“now.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m the bitch who’s going to kick your ass from hell and back, that’s who.”

  And damn if she wasn’t kidding. No one told me about Marianna Perez. Or I should say, Dr. Marianna Perez, resident psychiatrist, specializing in PTSD. In other words, take no shit off of anyone for any reason whatsoever, Dr. Perez. And I tried. Man did I try. I handed more crap to her on a silver platter, but she threw it right back in my face. At one point, she actually accused me of faking! Told me I wouldn’t know PTSD if it busted down my door. She finally tore me down and built me back up, piece by piece, into the person I used to be. No, I take that back. She made me into something I had only dreamed of being before. Or at least got me pointed in the right direction. I knew I had lots of work to do. I was bitter about losing my leg, more bitter than I could come close to admitting. But that was okay. It was how I dealt with the bitterness that counted. And she helped me figure all that out.

  I was inching closer to going home—my real home in Drummond. Therapy was getting better and better. My new prosthesis was on order and when that came in, I would learn how to walk in it. After that, I would be permanently discharged from the marines. I sat in the rec room, laughing at something one of the other guys said when I happened to glance up and saw Jared—Jared, the guy I pushed out of the way of the IED.

  He was in full uniform and looked amazing. Behind him stood Randy, Will, and Mark—all of the guys that were with me that ugly day. It was an awkward moment for about two seconds until I waved at them and grinned.

  “What are your sorry asses doing here?” I needed something to break the ice, so I thought I’d go with what I used to say to them. It worked.

  They all charged over and dropped down so they could hug me. Three tough guys that could barely speak because I suspected their emotions had their tongues all knotted up.

  Finally, Jared said, “I owe you my life and my family sent you this.” It was a picture of his family—he, his wife, and kids holding up a sign that said Thanks for saving our dad, Lee. Now it was my turn to shove back the traitorous tears that collected in the corners of my eyes.

  Mark and Will gave me cards from their wives that were very emotional as well.

  Mark said, “My wife, Jill, wanted to come, but I wouldn’t let her.”

  “Why not?”

  “I wanted this to be just the guys.”

  “Excuse me. Last time I checked, I still had my female bits.”

  “Yeah, but you know what I mean. We needed to share this time. And then next time we’ll get together with the spouses.”

  “Okay. We’d better,” I said.

  Will jumped into the conversation. “Oh, if we don’t, Trisha will kill me, so this is already a done deal. She wants to personally hug your neck.”

  I lowered my head to wipe my tears. I couldn’t let them see me cry.

  “It’s okay, Lou. We’ve all cried like fucking babies,” Jared said.

  “Thank God.” I held out my arms and we all hugged again. Then we sat around talking for awhile and they wanted to know if I could go out to eat with them. I had honestly not been out of the hospital for so many months that it freaked the hell out of me, so I politely declined. But I promised that when I was finally sprung out of the joint, we would make it a point to have another reunion.

  After they left, I realized Dr. Perez was right. Even though my actions cost me my leg, they had also saved four lives, including my own. I thought about Mark, Will, and Jared, and then their families. I wasn’t ashamed of the tears that spilled down my cheeks. Yes, I was minus part of my leg, and yes, I was fighting to get my life back. But what would their families have been experiencing if I hadn’t seen that Coke can? How would they have gone on without their husbands and fathers? It was a small price in comparison when you put it into perspective.

  A couple of weeks later, I mastered my prosthesis—which was a lot harder than I ever thought it would be—and was cleared to go home. With my honorable discharge in hand, I was soon off to the airport, my final destination: Drummond, Virginia.

  Chapter Six

  Lee

  * * *

  Following the semi-rough landing, the flight attendant asked everyone to remain in their seats until I deplaned first. I wasn’t one who liked attention, so it was more than slightly embarrassing for me. Nodding my thanks, I grabbed my cane and walked off the plane. Drummond didn’t have an airport, so I landed in the closest town to it. It wasn’t a very large airport, but it did have a jetway that attached to the plane which I was thankful for since it was raining. The crummy weather seemed to follow me around every time I flew. Mother Nature had a shitty sense of humor sometimes.

  When I got to baggage claim, Mom was there with my little brother Glenn, waiting. Scuttlebutt—my nickname for him—came barreling up to me and nearly knocked me over.

  “Show me your fake leg,” he hollered.

  “Christ, hold your voice down, you little shit,” I said in his ear. Cartoon-like eyes caught mine for a second, then he doubled over laughing.

  “I’m telling Mom,” he said, acting the tattletale.

  “If you do, I’ll stick this cane up your ass.”

  Then he let out the loudest snort this side of the Mississippi. We hugged and both died laughing.

  “What are you two up to over there?” Mom asked as she caught up with us.

  “Oh, nothing,” Scuttlebutt said.

  “I told him he was going to be my pack mule for almost knocking me down,” I answered.

  “Glenn, be easy on Lilou. Her balance might be a bit off.”

  “No kidding. Call me half-leg.”

  “Lilou!” Mom admonished me. Glenn snorted.

  “No use beating around the bush, Mom.”

  “Are you gonna get one of those cool legs runners have with those springs?” Scuttlebutt asked.

  “Maybe. If I get off my ass and run some.” He snickered as Mom sucked in her breath. “It’s okay, Mom. My psychiatrist told me not to hold in my feelings when dealing with PTSD.” I turned to Scuttlebutt and winked. I doubt Mom bought it, but whatever.

  The buzzer went off indicating that luggage was about to drop. “Dude, you sure your muscles can handle my stuff?”

  My brother held up his arm and flexed. I wanted to laugh because the scrawny teenager looked like he had an egg sitting on top of the skinny end of a baseball bat.

  “I got it Lilou. You can count on me.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.”

  He jogged over to the conveyer belt and waited for my ginormous duffle. It was one of the first ones to drop, followed by my backpack. I didn’t carry anything on board with me on account of that dang cane. Mom grabbed my backpack while Scuttlebutt grabbed the duffle. Or tried to. When he went to hoist it off the belt, his face turned the color of an eggplant.

  “Dude, you better start lifting some weights,” I teased. A man standing next to him gave him a hand and he thanked him.

  “How we gonna get this to the car?” baby bro asked.

  “A skycap. Watch this.” I raised my arm up in the air and yelled, “Can I get some help here, please?”

  A man with a cart showed up a minute later and off we went.

  Taking in the sights as we drove home from the airport, I tried to remember when I was home last. As if she read my mind, Mom said, “Three Christmases ago.”

  “
I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

  “Why? It’s not like you haven’t been busy or …” her voice trailed off. Last Christmas I was in Walter Reed and not fit for human company.

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  Silence settled into the car like a giant cloud, snuffing out the light banter that had been taking place. Even Scuttlebutt grew strangely quiet. I knew I should say something to lift the heavy atmosphere, but I found myself caught up in the scenery as the car sped by. It had been so long since I had been home; I was noticing how much things had changed.

  We turned the corner that headed down Main Street, and up ahead sat the old train depot, the one that stood empty for all those years. The town had debated whether or not to tear it down, turn it into a museum, use it for public events, but it seemed no one could ever come to an agreement on anything. As we neared the old building, I was aware that the interior lights were on and for some odd reason, I felt this indescribable urge to go inside.

  “Stop the car!” I yelled.

  Chapter Seven

  Rusty

  * * *

  The team had landed back in Virginia Beach at the Naval Air Station. The debriefing took much longer than usual because what was supposed to have been an in and out simple extraction turned out to be anything but. We were part of The United States Naval Special Warfare Development Group or what we referred to as DEVGRU. Most civilians knew us as Seal Team Six, only that wasn’t exactly correct. Seal Team Six had been disbanded in 1987 when Seal Team 8 and DEVGRU were formed. However, the moniker stuck, especially with the media. So most people still went with it.

  Our mission had been to drop into Iran, rescue two hostages, and then get to the border of Afghanistan for an airlift. Only it didn’t quite happen as scheduled. The first problem came when one of the hostages ended up being critically wounded, which we hadn’t been aware of. Then our extraction vehicle didn’t show. From there, things deteriorated. We couldn’t get air support without Iran’s knowledge, so we were on our own for twelve hours. What had looked like a piece of cake was a FUBAR like I hadn’t seen in over two years.

  We finally were able to get the wounded stabilized with the assistance of Dr. Traitor and then made our escape to the border using the vehicle he so kindly lent us. It was touch and go all the way. A bird finally showed up to take us to the base at Bagram. We made it by the slices of our asses.

  The explanations to the superiors went on forever. They couldn’t understand why it went south so fast. And honestly, neither could we. It was like someone was expecting our show up. And Dr. Traitor’s help only added to that explanation. It was too late for guessing games now. We were done and gone. Each of our written reports were expected by tomorrow. I couldn’t wait for the couple of weeks leave I had coming up.

  My foster sister, Velvet, had been begging me to visit her in California. She was a famous actor now, and had changed her name to Midnight Drake, and her husband, Harrison, owned a PR company that specialized in shining up tarnished images in the entertainment industry. That’s how they met, in fact. They were both so busy, though, and they’d recently had a second child, that going out there wouldn’t exactly be the needed R&R that my mind and body craved. I would make it a point to head out there in the near future, but right now, I’d stick around here. Maybe head to the beach for a few days or go inland to fish the rivers. I wasn’t sure, maybe do some exploring of the local towns around here that I’d always had wanted to do but never got around to.

  “Hey, Garrett? You up for a beer?” Greg, one of my teammates asked.

  “Sure, man. But I want to get that report written first, so I’ll meet you out.”

  “Sounds good. See you later.”

  I grabbed my gear, closed my fenced-in locker, and headed to my truck. The drive home didn’t take too long. Traffic out this way wasn’t bad, and I was determined to finish my work.

  Happy I’d gone through the drive-thru of a local eatery on the way home, I pulled out the food and chowed down. I was starved, having not eaten since before lunch. Then I opened my secure laptop and went to work. These briefs were so damn tedious, I was careful to include every detail. It took me longer than I expected, but I didn’t hit send. I wouldn’t do that until I read it with fresh eyes in the morning.

  Then I left for the local hangout to meet the guys. When I got there, it was obvious they’d all had a few. Maybe more than a few.

  “So, Garrett, don’t you have leave coming up?”

  “Yeah, next week.”

  “Whatcha got planned?”

  “Nothing so far.”

  “You gotta get out of here,” Wilson said.

  “Oh, I plan to. I just don’t know where yet. Maybe I’ll go fishing.”

  “Too bad duck season isn’t here yet. My wife’s uncle has a place not too far from here.” Wilson held his arm out like a shotgun and took aim.

  “Hey, I’m up for that anytime, man.”

  We drank a couple more—well they did—and I gave them all rides home. I was wiped.

  After I brushed my teeth, I flopped on the bed. The last thing I remembered was thinking heaven. My lids slammed shut the minute I hit the pillow. Sleeping on those military planes sucked.

  My internal alarm clock woke me at six a.m. For once I wished I could sleep longer. But that would never happen. My need for food and coffee didn’t allow it. The refrigerator was empty, so I hit the shower and headed to the local cafe. They pretty much knew me here and greeted me with a cheery Good morning.

  I took my usual seat at the counter and my coffee cup was filled immediately while the waitress asked if I wanted my usual.

  “You know it, ma’am.”

  “I’ve missed you. You’ve been away.”

  Laughing, I said, “Are you always this observant?” It wasn’t that difficult since I ate here pretty much every morning.

  “No, I just notice when my Seals are absent. Been on a mission?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Hope it went well.”

  I dipped my head. She knew I couldn’t say anything and she never pressed. Her name was Dottie and she was probably my mom’s age … if my mom hadn’t drunk herself into an early grave.

  A few minutes later, a piping hot plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and two biscuits appeared in front of me. “Here you go, son.”

  “Ah, thanks. This looks great.” Then she refilled my empty cup.

  “Anything else?”

  “No, this is perfect.”

  She smiled and left me to eat. I polished my plate and left her a large tip, exactly like I always did. As I was walking out, she hollered out her thanks.

  When I got back home, I double-checked my brief to make sure it was clear, concise, accurate, and error free. When I was satisfied with it, I hit send. Then I set off to the base. The rest of the week went easy. Nothing unusual popped up, which was nice. I didn’t want anything to get in the way of my leave.

  On Friday, I double checked to see if my leave was still approved. Still not sure of what I would do, I went home to make some plans.

  I googled things to do in the area and landed on a couple of small towns, but one called Drummond seemed intriguing. It was an old railroad hub that had apparently been developed into an artsy place with some bed and breakfasts, local shops, and a museum chronicling the railroad when it was a major mode of transportation. The town fascinated me with its antique stores, locally made furniture, and shops that catered to local businesses. It was less than an hour from here so if it turned out to be a bust, I could always head back home.

  I made a reservation at a cool looking inn for the following week and decided to check it out. Who knows what I’d turn up?

  Chapter Eight

  Lee

  * * *

  To say I scared my mother to death would be appropriate. She hit the brakes and I almost went through the windshield, or at least that’s what it seemed at the time.

  “Mom!”

  “Wh
at? You told me to stop.”

  “Not like that. Jeez.”

  “Well, I’m stopped now. What did you want, Lilou?”

  “I saw lights on in the old depot.”

  The look Mom gave me was one for the record books. “For Pete’s sake Lilou. It’s a cafe now. It opened about six months ago. Food’s real good too. And they opened a museum right behind it. The town’s taken an upswing. You’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  I stared at the red brick building and thought how cool it was that they hadn’t torn the place down. “Hey Mom, is this the same train depot that your grandfather came home to when he got back from the war?”

  Mom smiled. “It sure is. Grandma used to tell the story all the time. How sad she was that he came home and there was no one to meet him at the train. You know, Lilou, you two probably had a lot more in common than you know.”

  “How’s that?”

  “When he was in France, he lost his leg when a grenade exploded.”

  Wow. I didn’t know that part of his story.

  That night, I pulled out old picture albums of my great-grandfather. Then I asked my mom everything I could think of.

  He served in the military and lost his leg when grenades were thrown into a barn his troop had been hiding out in. When he finally made it back to Drummond, no one had been at the train depot to meet him. Sadly, while he’d been away, he’d received a Dear John letter. That’s when he decided to go to that same train station every day to meet and greet the soldiers as they returned because he didn’t want anyone else to experience what he did. It was how he’d met my grandmother. She’d heard about him and went there one day to see him. They fell in love and ended up getting married.

  The following morning, after I did my physical therapy exercises, I dressed and got in my car. It had been so long since I had driven, it felt strange. As I thought about it, it was a good thing my left leg had taken the hit. Otherwise, I would’ve had to learn how to drive with my prosthesis. My physical therapist said it was time to ditch the cane. My strength in both legs was great and I had demonstrated excellent mobility. He asked about my comfort level and confidence in moving around without it. I walked around the facility for about a half hour and it actually felt better than with it. He said it had to do with the fact that now when people saw me, they didn’t see anything that indicated I had any injuries.