Backlash

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  “I have a surprise for you.”

  “What kind of surprise?”

  “Come on.” Kel climbed out of the car, carrying his cane, even though it rarely touched the ground. Taking her hand, he led her toward the entrance. He took the stairs slowly, and Marilyn matched his pace.

  As they entered the lobby, she thought perhaps he wanted to stop and eat a nice dinner, but he didn’t turn toward the quaint little restaurant with its wall of windows overlooking the river. Instead he headed for the reception desk.

  “I have a reservation,” Kel told the clerk. “The name is Bennett.”

  “Of course.” The middle-aged woman smiled up at them. She set a form on the counter along with a set of keys. “Sign right here.”

  Kel scrawled his signature across the line she indicated and scooped the keys off the counter.

  “You’re room is up the stairs, last door on the left.”

  “Thank you.” Kel reached for Marilyn’s hand and gave her a little smile.

  Still not understanding why they had stopped, Marilyn asked, “We’re staying here?”

  “I want to spend some time alone with my wife before I go back to the real world.” Kel slipped his arm around her waist and steered her toward the sweeping staircase across the lobby. “Do you mind?”

  She smiled now. “No, I don’t mind.” Then she shook her head, clearing away some of the confusion. “I just thought you would be anxious to get home.”

  “There isn’t anything at home that can’t wait for a few days,” Kel assured her.

  “I should go get our bags out of the car.” Marilyn started to move away from him, but he held her firmly against him.

  “Uh-uh.” Kel shook his head. “We’ll get them later.”

  She looked up at him and felt her heart beat a little faster. Not wanting to spoil her husband’s romantic gesture, she let him lead her up the stairs, matching her steps to his. When they reached their room, Kel unlocked the door and then turned back to face her. Before she realized what he was doing, he scooped her up into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” Marilyn gaped at him. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  Kel shook his head, his eyes locked on hers. “I love you, Marilyn.”

  “I love you, too,” she managed, surprised by his intensity.

  He leaned down and touched his lips to hers as she slipped her arms around his neck. She didn’t think of anything but him as he moved into the room and closed the door.

  * * *

  Brent stepped beside Quinn in the shadows of Kel’s house and turned to Seth. “What have you got?”

  “Nothing,” Seth said with a shake of his head. “We swept the house for transmitting devices and explosives. We even checked out Kel’s car that’s parked on base, but it’s clean, too.”

  “We still have another day before Kel was supposed to get released from the hospital,” Brent commented. “We’ll stake out the house tonight. Have Tristan and the new kid take the first shift.”

  “Will do.” Seth pulled out his cell phone and started relaying orders.

  * * *

  The lights were low in the hotel’s restaurant, flames flickering from the candles on each of the occupied tables. Kel and Marilyn had requested a table by the window where they could look out at the lights reflecting off the water of the James River. Darkness had already fallen, and the peaceful sound of rushing water echoed from below them.

  Kel reached across the table and covered Marilyn’s hand with his. “You know, I never really thanked you for everything you did for me while I was in the hospital.”

  “Oh, I think you have.” Marilyn smiled, her eyes bright. “Look at this place.”

  “I’m glad you like it here.” Kel returned her smile. “Does this mean you won’t mind staying for a few days?”

  “Really?” Marilyn looked both surprised and a little wary. “I thought you would have to get back to work or something now that you were out of the hospital.”

  “I’m sure the admiral will find some paperwork for me to do until I’m back to a hundred percent, but he didn’t seem to mind me taking a week off first.”

  “You took a week off?” Her jaw dropped open. “To spend with me?”

  “Why do you look so surprised?” Kel’s eyebrows furrowed at her reaction. “I always spend time with you when I’m not on assignment.”

  “Yeah, but not like this.” Marilyn waved her hand in the air, a gesture that encompassed the inn. “We’ve never done anything like this. At least not since we’ve been married.”

  “I know life has been pretty crazy, but we have time together now.” Kel shifted in his chair, and then his eyes narrowed. “You know, I never even thought to ask if you have to work this week.”

  Marilyn shook her head. “I haven’t told my boss when I’m coming back yet. I thought you would probably need me around at least until you can drive again.”

  “I think regaining my ability to drive is going to be high on my priority list over the next week or two,” Kel told her. “You’re going to get sick of chauffeuring me around.”

  “I don’t mind.” Marilyn picked up her glass and took a sip of water. “Besides, I really like the way you say thank you.”

  Kel grinned. “Glad to hear it.”

  * * *

  “You know what doesn’t make sense?” Seth asked, continuing on with the real question. “Why someone would be targeting Kel.”

  “I’ve been wondering the same thing.” Brent shook his head. “I can’t think of anyone he’s had a run-in with, at least not lately.”

  “There was the one lieutenant on the Truman,” Seth suggested. “What was his name? Lieutenant Kiefer?”

  “You mean the guy you punched in the communications room?” Quinn asked, amusement in his voice.

  “Yeah, that’s the one.” The corner of Seth’s mouth lifted in a half smile. “Because of us, he got a bad rating and ended up reassigned.”

  “Where is he stationed now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Find out.”

  “Do you think someone is trying to retaliate against Kel because of one of our missions?”

  “I don’t know.” Brent shook his head. “We don’t usually leave loose ends, and it’s not like our enemies to know our names.”

  Quinn tapped his fingers on his desk impatiently. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I know,” Brent agreed. He looked up to see Tristan walk in with their new team member, Jay Wellman. His eyes narrowed when he noticed the bandage on Jay’s hand. “What happened to you?”

  “He sliced it when he was picking Kel’s lock.” Tristan gave an innocent little shrug.

  Brent shook his head and tried to smother a grin. He looked up at Jay and said, “Next time one of these guys tells you to pick a lock, make sure they don’t have the key first.”

  Jay’s dark eyes widened as he turned to look at Tristan. “You had the key?”

  “Never assume,” Tristan said simply and then plopped down at his computer.

  “How bad is it?” Brent asked, pointing at Jay’s hand. “Do you need to go to the infirmary?”

  Jay stood a little straighter and looked Brent in the eye. “I’ll be fine.”

  Brent nodded and then turned to Quinn. “Check online and do a search for Kel’s name.” Turning to look at Seth, he continued, “And I want you to do a new background check on Marilyn.”

  “You think his wife could have something to do with this?”

  “I doubt it, but we have to at least consider that this might have something to do with her.”

  “I don’t like this.” Quinn shook his head, a sour look on his face. “I don’t like looking into the commander’s personal life.”

  “I don’t either, but like it or not, this may be the only way to figure out who was posing as his father,” Brent told them. “And we need to know why someone wanted to know when he would be coming home.”

  14

  Today was the da
y. Halim pulled into the driveway of the drab little house, a house that looked just like all the others on the street. He retrieved the black case from the seat beside him. From a distance he knew his bag looked like a briefcase. It was doubtful that anyone would suspect he was carrying a sniper’s rifle.

  A neighbor across the street was outside mowing his lawn and lifted a hand in greeting. Halim waved back, forced a smile, and then turned to walk up the two steps to the front door. He slid the key in the lock and stepped into the darkness.

  The house was without furniture except for a camp chair he had picked up at the local Walmart. He crossed through the excuse of a living room and into the kitchen where he looked out the back window. The house behind him was still as quiet now as it had been the day he had rented this place nearly four weeks before.

  The timing had worked out beautifully. Seven houses had been listed for sale or rent in this tiny neighborhood, including the one down the street from the commander’s home and this one that backed up to it.

  He still couldn’t believe how trusting the people in this neighborhood were. His story that he had moved from California had been accepted by the numerous neighbors who had stopped by to welcome him into their midst. The kitchen counter was lined with their offerings of pastries, cookies, and fruit.

  Reaching under some plastic wrap to retrieve a piece of banana bread, he wondered if perhaps his boss’s method of striking at the United States from a distance was something he should reconsider. If all Americans were this trusting, perhaps his goals could be better achieved by living among them first—not that he wanted to be the man to do it, but it was something to consider.

  Halim continued to watch the commander’s house, knowing that the light burning in the kitchen had been on since before his arrival. According to his calculations, the commander should arrive within another hour or two. If luck was with him, Seth would be the man to bring him there.

  * * *

  “Aren’t you about ready to get back home?” Marilyn asked as she walked out onto the balcony of their room. Rain was drizzling outside, sheeting off of the balcony on the floor above them. They had been at the inn for four days, and the novelty was beginning to wear off, especially since it had been raining for the past two days straight.

  After being gone for so long, Marilyn was ready to get back to their little house. And she was ready to get back to work.

  Ideas for her novel had been flooding her mind over the past few days, and her fingers itched to get them down on paper. She had finally snagged a notebook from the desk in their room and started jotting down notes when Kel wasn’t looking. It hadn’t been difficult to hide the little notebook in the side pocket of her purse, but she was quickly running out of pages as well as patience.

  “Why don’t we stay one more night?” Kel suggested. “Then we can head home and get back to real life.”

  Marilyn nodded in agreement, wondering if the weather might clear enough that they could take another walk down to the river’s edge. Her eyes narrowed when she looked down at a truck pulling into the parking lot.

  “What’s he doing here?” she asked when she saw Tristan climb out of the cab.

  Kel stiffened for a moment. Then he grabbed his cane and headed for the door. “I’ll be right back.” A moment later Marilyn saw Tristan walking toward the entrance, stopping when he noticed Kel hobbling toward him.

  Neither of the men seemed concerned about the rain coming down on them, both apparently content to stand outside and get soaked. When Kel asked Tristan something, Tristan shook his head, appearing both discouraged and worried. Even from this distance, Marilyn could see the tension settling in her husband. Her first thought was that Tristan had come to take Kel away from her for some mission. Then other realizations started to surface.

  If Kel had brought her here to take a break from work, why would he have told anyone in his squad how to find them? And why hadn’t he just called Kel on his cell phone? Surely, if they needed him back at work immediately, it would have been more time efficient to have her drive Kel back to Virginia Beach rather than sending someone to get him.

  Puzzled, Marilyn watched the two men closely, looking for anything in their body language that might give her a clue. Finally, Tristan turned and headed back to his truck, and Kel walked back into the inn.

  Now convinced that everything wasn’t as it seemed, Marilyn left the balcony and went back into the hotel room. She stood facing the door, her arms crossed as she waited for Kel to come back.

  The minute he walked in and closed the door behind him, she asked, “What’s going on?”

  “It’s nothing. Just a little problem the guys ran into at work.”

  “Then why didn’t they just call you?”

  “I guess my phone must not be getting reception here.”

  “Don’t lie to me.” Marilyn shook her head, anger bubbling up inside her. “You used your phone last night to order pizza. What’s going on?”

  “It’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Kel, don’t start this again.” The anger faded, replaced by the deep hurt that had been welling up inside her for the past five years. “Don’t shut me out and try to protect me from every little thing.”

  Kel leaned heavily on the cane and then lowered himself into a chair. He rubbed his hands over his face and seemed to be considering what to tell her.

  Marilyn sat on the chair opposite him. She shifted to face him and reached across the little table between them to lay her hand on his. “We’ve been married for five years. It’s time you stop treating me like some china doll that can sit on a shelf until it’s convenient for you to take it down,” Marilyn insisted. “You need to learn to trust me.”

  He drew his hand away and pushed back up to a stand. “I’m going to go for a walk.”

  “It’s raining.”

  “I need to get some things sorted out in my mind,” Kel responded quietly. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Marilyn simply stared as her world crumbled down around her once more.

  * * *

  Kel walked along the jogging trail, using his cane more than he would have liked. He didn’t know what to do. Whoever had called the hospital asking about him had not shown up looking for him at either the hospital or his house. He trusted his men and their ability to run surveillance undetected, so if they hadn’t seen anything suspicious, it was unlikely there was anything suspicious.

  He had been racking his brain trying to figure out who could be looking for him, but he kept coming up with nothing. His life was simple—work and home. He realized that his professional life might be considered complex by some, but to him it was like breathing. He just did it. Orders came in, he took action, he completed missions.

  The possibility that someone would come after him was so far-fetched he was beginning to wonder if perhaps the nurse who had taken the message might have been confused. Perhaps it had been someone on the admiral’s staff or even some reporter looking for a story. If news had leaked out about an injured SEAL, the press would probably have jumped on it. Investigative reporters were notorious for digging up whatever information they needed to get their job done.

  Still, doubt lingered, and Kel worried about letting Marilyn go home until he knew what they were up against. He had hoped their stay at the inn would give his squad time to identify and eliminate any threat. Since that hadn’t worked, he was back to square one. How could he explain to Marilyn that their home might not be safe? And how would she react when she found out that his job, the one she hated, could very well be bringing them into harm’s way?

  With the rain still falling steadily around him, Kel prayed for answers. Then, slowly, he turned back toward the inn. His stomach was churning with nerves when he opened the door and saw Marilyn sitting at the little table in their room writing something in a notebook.

  “You’re back.” She quickly put her pen down and slipped the notebook into her purse. She looked up at him now. “And you’re soaked.�
��

  “It doesn’t matter,” Kel told her. When her eyebrows lifted, he pulled open a drawer, grabbed a change of clothes, and stripped out of his wet clothes. When he had replaced them with dry ones, he sat down on the edge of the bed so that he was knee to knee with Marilyn.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure what I can tell you.”

  Marilyn let out a sigh. “You hide too much from me.” Her eyes were serious, hurt reflected there as she continued, “Everything I know about what you do, about your past missions, is because someone else talked to me and assumed I already knew things. You don’t trust me with anything, even the part that you can talk about.”

  Kel stared at her. She was right. He had tried to protect her from the truth about what he did, hoping to keep her from worrying about the danger. Seeing the hurt in her eyes, he suddenly needed to understand what she was feeling. “Does it really bother you that much when I don’t talk about my work?”

  Her eyes widened; she had expected him to refuse as he normally did. Slowly, she nodded. “It does. Your work has always been so important to you. I want to share that part of your life, or at least understand it.” She hesitated briefly and then added, “I want you to trust me.”

  Kel’s eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean? I trust you. I’ve always trusted you.”

  “No, you haven’t. If you trusted me, you wouldn’t be trying to hide why Tristan came to see you.” Another sigh escaped her. “I can see your mind working now. You’re trying to figure out how little you can tell me without starting a fight.”

  New understanding dawned, the realization that each assignment had been driving a wedge between them. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know everything,” she started and then held up a hand before he could protest, “but I’ll settle for anything you can tell me. Maybe you could start with telling me about a certain hostage rescue of a senator’s daughter.”

  Kel managed to smile. “That was quite a story, actually.”