by Tara Sivec
One minute her world went black and the next her eyes were blinking rapidly from the bright florescent lights that hung above her hospital bed as she arched her back in pain and terror because it felt like she was choking. Her body jerked as she tried to swallow and her arms wouldn’t move to clutch her throat no matter how hard she tried. She coughed and gagged in an attempt to swallow, the effort causing her eyes to water. Parker could hear loud beeping from a machine close to her bed and within seconds two nurses rushed to her bedside.
“Calm down, Annabelle. It’s okay. There’s a tube down your throat that’s been helping you breathe,” one of the nurses informed her as she placed her hands on Parker’s shoulders and held her still. “I know it feels like you’re choking but we need you to try and stay calm. We’re going to call the respiratory therapist so he can run a few tests and then hopefully pull that tube out.”
Parker could feel tears sliding down her cheeks and she tried bringing a hand up to swipe them away but she still couldn’t move them.
“Your arms are restrained so you wouldn’t pull the tube out,” the second nurse told her gently when she saw her tugging against the bindings. She pulled a cordless phone out of the pocket of her lab coat and dialed the therapist.
Parker tried to do as they asked, but her mind was still fuzzy from being unconscious for so long. Her body’s natural reaction was to fight the thing that was causing her discomfort.
Although it seemed like hours that she lay in bed, being held down by a nurse, it was only minutes before a man dressed in blue hospital scrubs walked into the room pushing a giant machine in front of him.
“Good morning, Parker, it’s good to see you're awake,” he told her as he wheeled the machine next to her respirator and began hooking up wires and plugs. He had her perform a bunch of breathing exercises while he monitored the two machines. After twenty minutes, he told her to take a deep breath and blow out all the air as hard as she could while he pulled the tube out of her throat.
After giving Parker several minutes to cough, they attached an oxygen mask to her face and told her to rest, injecting something into her IV that made her eyes droop closed.
Before she succumbed to sleep, she realized that the one person she needed the most wasn’t in the room when she first woke up.
<> ~ <>
Garrett paced angrily back and forth in the small conference room of the Navy SEAL command center. After four days of sitting by Parker’s bed side willing her to wake up, he’d been forcibly removed by three Navy masters-at-arms at oh-two-hundred hours that morning. He knew it was his own fault for not getting in contact with Captain Risner after he left Garrett repeated voicemails. He knew the debriefing from this mission should have been top priority, but nothing could tear him away from Parker’s side.
Three fully armed, United States military police officers proved him wrong. If he didn’t go with them calmly and quietly back to the states, they would take him by force. Garrett knew if that happened, he’d be thrown into the Brig, the military’s version of prison, for directly disobeying orders, being AWOL, and a long list of other offenses he didn’t care about at the moment.
Garrett was climbing the walls and felt like tearing all of his hair out. As soon as he deplaned, he was relieved of his military-issued firearm, his military identification, his cell phone, and driven to the command center and put into a conference room without any explanation. Garrett knew he should have never left Parker’s side. All he could think about was something going wrong and not being there to do something. He hadn’t done much of anything the past few days aside from hold her hand and talk to her, but at least it felt like something. Right now he felt useless.
Several minutes later the door to the room opened and Risner walked in followed by Captain John Andrews, Risner’s boss. Neither man looked happy, although Risner looked at Garrett with sad eyes and a sympathetic smile.
“Lieutenant McCarthy, have a seat,” Captain Andrews said stiffly with a nod of his head to the table in the middle of the room.
The two men who held his future in their hands sat. Garrett remained standing.
“Permission to speak freely, sir?” Garrett asked.
“Granted,” Captain Risner replied.
“Get me the fuck out of this room and back to Parker!” Garrett yelled as he slammed his palms on the table in front of them.
“We understand your anger, Garrett…er, Lieutenant McCarthy,” Risner replied, glancing nervously at his boss. Garrett and Risner had been friends ever since they met in the Naval Academy. The fact that Risner was Garrett’s boss never changed that. Risner trusted Garrett to do his job and left him alone to accomplish it. It was obvious now, by the way he kept glancing at Captain Andrews, that things were out of his hands as far as Garrett was concerned.
“If you would have just contacted us and willingly came in for the debrief, you might already be on your way back to the Dominican to Agent Parker,” Captain Andrews informed him arrogantly. “A member of your team, who we thought to be dead for a year, had gone rogue and taken up with the enemy. Your silence and unknown whereabouts concerned both the Admiral and Commodore. It doesn’t look good.”
Risner gave Garrett a look of sympathy. He knew Garrett would never even come close to doing something against the Navy or against his country. He felt bad that Parker was harmed and knew Garrett wasn’t thinking straight because of it, but it was out of his hands. The higher-ups in the Navy weren’t happy. Milo’s actions shined a negative light on the entire SEAL program, and now everyone was under scrutiny.
“The fact of the matter is, Lieutenant McCarthy, there is a man with over forty-seven counts of underage prostitution and thirteen counts of voluntary manslaughter that is sitting in a Dominican prison awaiting trial. There are also three United States Senators, four Supreme Court judges, two employees of the State Department, one employee from the Executive Office of the CIA, six members of the State Council of China, four members of the Cabinet of Australia, and the President of Egypt that were all his customers. Each one has been charged with numerous counts of commercial sexual exploitation of children. Nothing can be done with these individuals until you are fully debriefed by the Navy and we can begin trial proceedings,” Captain Andrews stated calmly.
The battle inside of Garrett raged quietly. He had a responsibility to his country to see this finished. He made a vow to protect this land and all of the people who lived here. Among the forty-seven plus young girls that Fernandez sold into sexual slavery, twenty were Americans. But he’d also made a promise to Parker. Even though she was unconscious at the time, he swore to her sleeping form that he would never leave her side again, that he would love her until the day he died, and he would do everything in his power to make up for the fact that his jealousy did this to her.
Garrett knew if he managed to get away from the building and back to Parker, he would only be dragged away again. The second time wouldn’t be as easy. He’d be thrown into the brig and denied any leniency. He would be seen as a traitor for not standing up for the people of his country and doing what he could to put the monsters behind bars for a very long time.
If he stayed there and went through the debriefing required by the Navy after a mission like this, conducted meetings with his SEAL team and the team of lawyers hired to try this case, organizing their testimony and evidence, and finally went to trial, he’d be looking at weeks if not months away from Parker. He knew she would understand, but at the same time, the guilt he felt for leaving her would eat him alive. The choice was not an easy one to make.
In the end, Garrett knew he needed to do whatever he could to put an end to all of the disgusting men that took advantage of children. He could do nothing but hope that the sacrifices he made now would be worth it when he was back with Parker, where he belonged.
<> ~ <>
Two days after Parker’s endotracheal tube was removed from her throat, she was able to talk without coughing and was clear-headed enough to listen
to her nurse explain that three armed military guards took Garrett away in the middle of the night right before she woke up. She was told by several people she was lucky to be alive. Many people didn’t come back from a class six hemorrhage on top of the all the injuries she sustained before being shot: one broken rib, a broken thumb, a cracked bone in her jaw, one in her cheek, and a bullet hole in her side with an even bigger hole in the back from the exit wound.
Once Parker was stable enough, she was flown to George Washington University Hospital in Washington, D.C. so she could begin physical therapy and start the long healing process. Parker assumed she’d get a say in what hospital she was transferred to, obviously wanting to be close to her home in California. However, the CIA made the decision for her and without her consent.
As the days passed, Garrett’s absence felt like another bullet wound, this time to her heart. During the day she was busy with therapy and the constant flow of doctors and nurses checking her vitals and asking her questions. But at night, in the quiet of the hospital where she was left alone to rest, Parker had plenty of time to think about how alone she was. She had no one there for her except for a blue eyed, black haired exotic beauty named Olivia.
In the last few weeks, Parker’s nurse had become a friend of sorts. For obvious reasons, Parker trusted no one, but Olivia made it hard not to like her even if she had to stare at her perfect complexion and model’s figure every day. It was especially hard when Olivia smiled at Parker and told her they were going to be good friends right after Parker threw a bowl of green Jell-O at her the day they met.
Even though Olivia forced Parker to go to physical therapy when she didn’t want to and stood next to her bed, tapping her foot until Parker gave in, forced the bland hospital food down her sore throat, yanked the covers off of her, and made her go for a walk when she was feeling sorry for herself, she was the only constant in Parker’s life at the moment―the only person there day in and day out that made sure she got better.
Parker swore worse than any truck driver she’d ever met and spent most of her day frowning, complaining, and arguing, but Olivia knew something else was lurking underneath that hard exterior. She tried several times to talk to Parker about the handsome soldier that she heard kept a close vigil over her for the first four days after her surgery, but each time she mentioned him, Parker shut down.
On several occasions, Olivia came up to the hospital long before her shift was due to start just to check on Parker. She would peek in on her through the window in Parker's hospital room door and it was always the same. Parker would be sitting in the chair by the window, staring out at nothing, with tears rolling down her cheeks. Even though the cause of Parker’s injuries was top secret, Olivia knew she was with the CIA and just completed a mission in the Dominican Republic where she was held hostage. Olivia had seen her share of injured soldiers, agents, and other U.S. government workers throughout the years. She knew Parker most likely saw and experienced things that could break even the strongest of men. Olivia hoped that one day Parker would confide in her; she couldn’t stand seeing the woman in so much pain. Even when she was struggling on the treadmill with sweat dripping down her face or sitting in the back of the room stone-faced and refusing to participate in her weekly PTSD group, Olivia could see the force it took for Parker not to crumble. She knew it was taking every ounce of strength Parker possessed not to break down.
Olivia and Parker slowly made their way back into Parker’s hospital room after a couple of leisurely laps around the recovery floor. Both women immediately stopped talking and frowned at the man who stood up from a chair in the corner of the room to greet them.
Parker immediately thought of Agent Brad Richmond. Right before Parker was transferred to D.C. she found out her boss of eight years died in his home when he refused to give up Parker’s location to two of Fernandez’s guards. He was never someone she would call a friend necessarily, but at least he knew her. They shared a history even if it wasn’t all rainbows and kittens. He didn’t treat her like a stranger, speak to her like a child, or ignore her requests. His replacement, Agent Jeff Charles, managed to do all of those things within the first fifteen minutes of meeting her.
She hated him immediately.
As soon as Parker was transported to D.C., Agent Charles came to Parker’s room three different times in an attempt to talk to Parker about what happened, and each time Olivia ordered him away when she saw how upset it made Parker. She told him Parker wasn’t strong enough for visitors that would upset her. Jeff bided his time for as long as he could. Agent Parker’s time was up. Jeff finally went over Olivia’s head and Parker’s doctor gave him the okay to question her about the mission.
Olivia was not happy.
As she helped Parker get back into bed, she shot a dirty look to the man in corner of the room wearing a black suit and tie with a perfectly pressed white shirt.
“You buzz me if you need anything,” Olivia informed Parker as she helped her pull a blanket up over her legs and shot a quick glance over her shoulder at the patiently waiting CIA agent. “Even if it’s some good old fashioned ass kicking.”
Parker cracked a small smile even though it hurt to show even that much emotion.
“I don’t think it’s in your job description to beat up visitors. Especially government employed ones,” Parker told her softly as she got herself comfortable.
“Something tells me you wouldn’t be opposed to assault and battery in this instance,” Olivia replied, hooking her thumb over her shoulder.
“I’ll be fine,” Parker assured Olivia. “Thank you.”
After checking the IV machine and pressing a few buttons, Olivia left Parker and Agent Charles alone.
“As I’ve stated in the numerous voicemails I’ve left you, none of which you’ve had the courtesy to respond to, there are quite a few loose ends that need to be cleared up in regards to this case,” Agent Charles said as he got right to the point, opening a briefcase he'd set on the table next to him and pulling out several file folders.
“And as I stated the first day you came here two weeks ago, I’m not answering any of your fucking questions until you tell me what’s happening with Lieutenant McCarthy and his team,” Parker replied, trying to keep her blood pressure down.
“Miss Parker—”
“AGENT Parker,” she interrupted, correcting Jeff through gritted teeth. “I may not be active right now, but I damn well deserve the respect I’ve earned.”
Jeff took a few calming breaths and reminded himself that losing his temper wouldn’t do anyone any good. The CIA and the Navy were now in a pissing contest over who should get the credit for taking down one of the biggest prostitution rings that spanned several countries. The sad fact was the CIA couldn’t get the upper hand without Parker’s help. Her refusal to participate in debriefing or talk to anyone from the CIA was not helping their case.
“Please forgive me, Agent Parker.”
Parker tried to ignore the obvious sarcasm in his voice, but it was impossible.
“As I informed you in two of my voicemails that I’m assuming you didn’t bother listening to, as an agent with the CIA, I am not privy to the whereabouts of a Navy SEAL. However, in the interest of putting this mission to bed once and for all, I made a few calls. As the leader of his SEAL team and the contact for all of the deceased members of SEAL Team Six, Lieutenant. McCarthy is being held under tight surveillance, along with the other three members of his team, until the trial date for all the parties involved in this scandal occurs. A gag order has been placed on all of them restricting them from having any contact with anyone outside of their immediate supervisors and lawyers.”
Parker heard the words he spoke and understood each and every one of them. She knew Garrett’s lack of contact wasn’t due to the fact that he suddenly had a change of heart. She knew without a doubt he would be there if he could. Knowing this information and coming to terms with it was a whole other matter. Not having Garrett there to hold her and keep
the nightmares away each night was slowly breaking her down. Each day, even with Olivia’s attempts at friendship, Parker felt herself drowning in despair. Without Garrett’s smile or his arms wrapped around her, the memories of all she lost and everything she did were swallowing her whole. She didn’t care about her job. She didn’t care about the case…she didn’t care about anything.
Agent Charles was only there because he wanted something from her. He didn’t care that she was struggling to keep the demons at bay or barely holding on to her sanity. He wanted answers to what happened down in that basement. He wanted an explanation for why another agent with over thirty years of experience, her father, was shot to death in his hospital room. The morbid curiosity that lived inside of him wanted to know if Fernandez ever tried to sleep with her, if the rumors of her involvement with McCarthy were true, and if she was secretly thrilled at being the one to shoot her former fiancé in the head.
She knew his kind and had worked with entirely too many men just like him over the years. They laughed at the water cooler over crime scene photos: the dead individuals in the pictures that died by the hand of other agents, nothing more than fodder for the gossip mill. Parker knew they were doing that with her now: standing in elevators, conversing over coffee, placing bets about whether or not Parker smiled as she pulled the trigger to end Milo’s life, wondering if she’d been in on all of it with Milo the entire time and killed him just to keep him quiet.
“So, now that I’ve went out on a limb to get the information you’ve requested, it’s time for you to answer some of my questions,” Agent Charles stated, bringing her out of her thoughts.
<> ~ <>
The first two weeks away from Parker were the hardest. Garrett didn’t sleep, he barely ate, and he snapped at anyone who tried to talk to him. He gave his statements, answered all their questions, and no one would let him have any contact with Parker. They were given an official order not to talk to anyone who didn’t have pre-clearance from the Navy. For the sake of the case and making sure nothing slipped through the cracks, they needed to follow their orders to a T. Garrett wasn’t even permitted five minutes alone with Brady, Austin, or Cole in case they were trying to change facts about what happened and throw a wrench in the case. They were each questioned separately for hours about what happened, and then once the lawyers were satisfied that their stories matched, questioned them together. They were never left alone to talk freely about anything.
