by Jacki Renée
“Mrs. Hawk, please stop hitting me. I’m following orders.” He opens the back door of a black SUV, closing the door once I’m on the seat.
He runs back to my husband holding something in his hand, waving off other people coming near the scene.
Another black SUV pulls up. Four men in gray suits jump out rushing toward the crowd.
The ambulance screeches to a stop, and the paramedics rush to the scene.
I hit and kick the window. It won’t break. I try all the doors. They’re locked.
Helplessly, I look out at the activity surrounding my husband. The paramedics lift him on to a stretcher. They rush him to the waiting ambulance. The two men in black suits run alongside him. Guns in their hands.
The truck doors unlock. They jump in the front seat.
“Ma’am, please put on your seatbelt.” He hands me my purse.
I remember him from the first time I went to Bryan’s office. Porter is his name.
Two more black SUVs pull up, one in front of the ambulance, the other behind us. The ambulance pulls away from the curb. We fall in line, flying through the streets of Boulder. Red emergency lights flashing on all four vehicles. Sirens wailing. I look back at the men in gray suits, still holding back the crowd.
I pull out my cell phone and scroll through the contacts to call Anthony.
“Don’t worry, Dani. We’re already on our way,” he answers on the first ring.
“How do you know what happened?”
“Porter called us. We’ll meet you at the hospital. Listen, do not talk to anyone and stay with Porter or Mills. They will protect you with their lives.” He hangs up before I can ask another question.
The movie theater is not far from the hospital, but we’re driving in the opposite direction.
“Where are they taking him?” I ask. We’re turning on to the highway.
“We’re going to a military hospital, ma’am,” the driver answers.
Through the back windows of the ambulance, I see two men working on Bryan. That isn’t an ordinary emergency vehicle. It’s bigger.
Porter rapidly types on a cell phone and talks in military terms in his sleeve. He’s also doing his best to keep me calm.
We finally exit. Twenty tires gripping asphalt, making a sharp left turn. We caravan for a few miles, then turn into an underground entrance.
Porter and the driver jump out to talk to the men from the other trucks. He must be in charge even though he’s definitely younger than the other men.
Bryan’s stretcher is pulled from the back of the ambulance. He isn’t moving, his jacket and shirt removed. There’s an IV in his arm, gauze bandages and ice packs covering his neck. Three men armed with rifles enter the hospital with him.
I make a run for the emergency room doors. My path is blocked by the driver.
“Mrs. Hawk, my name is Mills. We’re escorting you into the hospital and taking you to a secured floor. Lieutenant Colonel Paul and Major Ricci will be here shortly.”
“I need to be with my husband.” I try to get around him, but he blocks me from getting by.
“Major Acosta is five minutes out. He’ll brief you once he evaluates the Colonel.”
Mills, Porter and two other men, also dressed in black suits and carrying rifles, whisk me down the corridors. Mills and Porter have guns in their hands.
Heads turn our way and people step to the side. The four men have me surrounded as we make our way to the elevators.
On the fifth floor, I’m led to a room. It’s larger than the normal hospital room.
“Mrs. Hawk, do you remember me? My name is Porter.” He doesn’t wait for me to reply. “Is there anything you need right now?”
“I need to call my sister-in-law and Bryan’s parents.” I look at my husband’s blood on my clothes and hands.
“Instructor Hawk is en route. Unless you require immediate medical attention, she’ll check you when she arrives. Retired Colonel and Mrs. Langford have also been notified, ma’am. If I get a status update on Colonel Hawk, I will let you know.” His smile almost reaches his eyes. “Mrs. Hawk, please don’t leave this room without Mills or myself. There are other armed guards standing outside, but he and I are responsible for your safety until the Lieutenant Colonel arrives.”
I nod.
Porter leaves me alone in the room.
Colonel? Lieutenant Colonel? Majors? Retired Colonel? Secured floors? Armed guards? Who in the hell are these people?
My fingers twist my wedding and engagement rings. I pace back and forth.
Time creeps by.
I wait for news.
I try hard to block the memory, but my mind flashes back to that day when two men in Army dress uniforms knocked on my apartment door. I’d just gotten home from a class. They told me James had been killed in action.
I remember immediately feeling lost and picking up the phone to call the only person I could think of in the moment. That same feeling threatens to consume me now and I can’t pick up the phone to call that person.
My knees weaken and I sit on the couch. Curl up and cry.
***
The comfort of loving arms surrounds me.
My eyes flutter open. Marie is the source. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze tight.
“How’s Bryan?” I ask.
“I don’t know, dear. We just got here.”
Willis is talking to Mills and Porter. The three shakes hands. Willis walks over to the couch. The men leave the room.
I make room for Willis. He rubs my arm.
“What did they tell you about Bryan?”
“There’s no news yet, but Ignacio is with him.”
“Where are Anthony and Vin?”
“They’re with him too.”
“Why can’t I be with him?”
Willis sighs. “We’ll explain everything in due time.”
Tears drip on to my bloodstained fingers. “I can’t lose him. I won’t survive.”
Willis rubs my shoulder. “You’re a fighter. You will get through this.”
I want to believe him. I do. But my heart won’t survive burying the man I love.
“Marie brought you a change of clothes. Go get cleaned up.” He points to the travel bag sitting in the chair.
I get up, taking the bag into the attached restroom. No wonder Mills thought I was injured. Dried blood is smeared across my cheek, hands, and clothes. My eyes are puffy and red, and my lips are chapped.
I turn on the water in the basin and wash off my husband’s blood.
My hands shake, making it difficult to change clothes. I manage to button my blouse and change my pants.
When I step out of the restroom, I feel a little better knowing Marie and Willis are here. I rejoin them on the couch, resting my head on Willis’s shoulder. Silent tears run down my cheeks.
Porter brings in a sandwich and fruit.
“You should eat something,” Marie says.
“We ate at the restaurant,” I reply.
A cot is brought in.
“You should try to go to sleep. I’ll wake you if there’s any news,” she encourages.
“I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to rest. I want Bryan!”
“Leave her alone. She knows what’s best for her and the baby.” Willis rubs my shoulders.
Marie pulls out her knitting needles and yarn. Her lips form a thin tight line.
I feel bad. She’s looking out for us. I lean over and I kiss her cheek.
“I’m sorry for shouting.”
She sets her needles down, patting my hands. “I know you’re worried about him. So am I. He’s like a son to me.” The tears she’s been holding back begin to roll down her cheeks and her lips tremble.
In my tunnel vision, I’ve only thought about how this affects me. I become her source of comfort as we sit and wait for news.
In the middle of the second hour, Ignacio, Vincenzio, and Anthony finally walk through the door, wearing surgical scrubs.
I jump off th
e couch and go to them. Vin pulls me into a tight hug rubbing my back.
“He’s alive, Dani. He’s going to be okay,” Ignacio says, pulling me into his arms, I sob on his chest. “The bullet didn’t do any real damage. He’s in recovery. They’ll bring him in, in a little while.”
“What about the other bullets? He was shot more than once.”
Vin rubs my arm. “He was wearing a bulletproof vest.”
I step back. Away from them.
“Why would Bryan need to wear one?”
“Dani, we need to ask you some questions. Please have a seat.” Vin gestures toward the couch.
I cross my arms over my chest.
“Tony will answer as much as he can, but please have a seat,” he requests.
I sit on the edge of the couch in between Marie and Willis.
Anthony kisses my forehead and squats in front of me, holding my hands. His thumbs draw reassuring circles around my knuckles.
“Dani, we need to know if Bryan’s ever told you what he does.”
“He owns Hawkeye Close Personal Protection.”
“Is that all he’s told you?” he asks.
“Does this have anything to do with the urgent business trips? Or the person hiding in my apartment? How about the fireworks on New Year’s Eve? Or the black trucks following me?” I snatch my hands from Anthony’s grasp. “Those men called him Colonel. And you, Lieutenant Colonel.” I look at Vin. “And you, Major Ricci.” I look at Ignacio. “And you, Major Acosta.” My gaze lands on Willis. “And you, retired Colonel Langford.” My voice grows louder with each accusation. “Who are you guys?”
“Bryan said he’ll tell you everything once he’s out of recovery,” Anthony says.
“Are my children safe?”
“The girls are fine and the Hawk’s home is secured,” Ignacio says, stepping closer.
“Gentlemen, you need to wait for Colonel Hawk before you proceed,” stoned-faced Willis speaks.
“Your opinion is duly noted, but we have orders to secure Danielle, and to do that we have to know who we’re up against.” Anthony’s attention is back to me. “Did you see who shot Bryan?”
This is the first time I’ve thought about what happened.
“We were walking across the courtyard. Out of nowhere he says my name. After that it’s a blur.”
“But did you see his face?” Anthony asks.
I cry, nodding my head. “James is dead. It couldn’t have been him.”
“That’s enough. Wait for Colonel Hawk.” Willis exerts his authority.
Anthony stands. Back straight. Chest out. “You are not my leader, Langford. And while Colonel Hawk is unconscious I’m in charge.”
“Since you’re not the one authorized to disclose information, your line of questioning is jeopardizing your position, Paul.” Willis rises from the couch.
“Things have changed since the good old days.” Anthony steps toward him. “We’re stronger. Bigger. Global.” His head twists with each word until they’re nose to nose. “Bryan didn’t reinvent the wheel, he made it roll better.” Anthony looks like he’s about to beat the crap out of Willis. “I’ve been given the authority.”
“Tony.” Ignacio gestures in my direction when his friend’s head snaps his way.
I’m in the same room as them, but the only one who can’t follow the conversation.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The room door swings open. Bryan is wheeled in on a hospital bed. He is conscious. Before the door closes, I glimpse two armed men standing in front of the doorway.
Ignacio and the medical team hook him up to the monitors.
“Are you and the baby okay?”
Bryan reaches out to me.
I stare at his hand, then back at him.
“Now, will you tell me what’s going on, Colonel?”
“Clear the room,” he says to the medical team.
They leave without question, closing the door behind them.
Bryan looks at his three best friends. “Have you told her anything?”
“We had orders to confirm his identity,” Anthony informs him.
Bryan closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and exhales slowly.
“Dani, come here.” He opens his eyes, reaching for me again.
I don’t budge.
“Get over here.” A little more firmness is added to his authoritative tone. This is his alpha male and now I understand why he is one.
I stand, talking my time to get to his bedside. He wraps his arm around my waist pulling me closer, making me stumble over my feet. My hands land on his chest. He sucks in air, but pain does not show on his face.
I try to pull back. His hold on my waist tightens.
Bryan’s hand inches up my back, bringing me closer to him until our lips brush.
“I love you, Dani. Please remember that.”
His kiss screams of desperation and begs for understanding.
“Can someone bring my wife a chair?” Bryan asks.
Ignacio places one behind me and I sit. Bryan holds my hand.
“What I’m about to tell you is highly classified and you can’t tell anyone, not even the girls. You’ll become part of our infrastructure like Marie. It’s time you know the truth.”
I glance at the others in the room.
Bryan reaches under the pillow and pulls out an official-looking letter, signed by the President. “I had to get written permission to tell you this.” He stares into my eyes. “I am Colonel Bryan Kendal Hawk the fourth. Second Command of the United States Phantom Military. Ignacio, Vincenzio, and Anthony are not just my best friends; we are the Elite Special Forces Team. I report directly to the President.”
What?!
“We’ve been investigating a homeland anti-government organization called Rebels Against Government Suppression, RAGS for short. Somehow, they found out about the secret military branch. We are Phantom for a reason, and in the wrong hands, that information puts government relations in jeopardy. To put it in layman’s terms, if we’re exposed, it could start World War III on American soil.”
This is crazy.
“RAGS recruits orphaned youths. They train them in the mastery of espionage. The youths infiltrate military branches and branches of government. They steal top-secret information and sell it to communist or terrorist leaders for financial and political gain.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Willis fidgeting on the couch.
“A member of RAGS stored Phantom information on a homemade laptop and was using his identical twin brother to help him attract buyers. That person was Sergeant James Andrew Edwards. His brother, a civilian, was Jamal Adam Edwards. During the raid we thought James Edwards was killed in the gunfight. And Jamal Edwards was arrested and sent to federal prison where he died a few years ago. I put a protection plan in place for you in case anyone came looking for back-up information. Once Kourtney was born, she became part of that plan too. On the thirtieth of June last year, a man fitting Sergeant Edwards’s description was spotted crossing the Syrian border. I had you and Kourtney moved here. When you left Arizona, we exhumed the body buried in the military cemetery and positively identified it as Jamal. We exhumed the body of the man who died in federal prison. His face had been surgically altered. He had full denture implants and his fingerprints were chemically burned off. We don’t know his true identity.” Bryan coughs.
Ignacio hands him a cup with a straw.
This sounds like it’s out of a Hollywood movie plot.
“Dr. Barrett watches over Kourtney at school. While you’re at work, Vanessa Larson keeps you safe. In our home, retired Colonel Langford and his wife watch over both of you. Porter follows you; he’s your Security Lead. He has orders to not make contact unless necessary. Lately you’ve noticed him only because of possible threats against you.”
“This is a joke, right?” This is too well contrived to be real. “You’re lying?”
“I realize this sounds farfetched, but no, Dani, I’m not lying.”<
br />
I snatch my hand out of his. The phone calls. The familiar voice. The lilies. That was James. I gasp.
Bryan reaches for me. I scoot the chair back. “Don’t. Touch. Me!” I say as I jump out of the chair, out of reach. “James was not a recruit! He did not have an identical twin brother! He was not selling military secrets!”
“Dani, calm down. Think of the baby,” he says.
My hands go to my stomach as I realize...
“Don’t,” he pleads, pushing the button so he’s sitting up higher in the hospital bed. “Don’t you dare think that.”
I step back. My mind replaying the first time we met. I keep stepping back. Looking into the faces of the people in the room. All of them are in on this.
My stomach rolls and I run to the restroom, drop to my knees. My stomach contracts and I vomit.
Everything I ate for dinner comes up, the acid burning my throat.
When I wake up from this nightmare, Bryan and I will be at home, in bed. Wake up, Danielle! I shout in my head.
Realization settles in. I’m not dreaming.
Images flash in my mind’s eye. My stomach rolls again. I heave, gag, and cough until I count to ten to clear my mind.
My stomach starts to settle.
I flush the toilet and sit on the floor, resting my head on my knees.
“Here’s some water,” Marie says.
I lift my head, taking the bottle, but do not open it.
“Danielle...”
I halt her speech by holding up my hand.
“Please, leave me alone.” I cough, my throat is raw and it makes my voice sound raspy.
“Get Jessica in here to check her,” Bryan commands.
What now? I ask myself.
My baby moves, the flutters making the situation that much more painful. Mental anguish pours out in the form of tears. Confusion. Anger. Curiosity. Heartache. I sit here, on the cold tile floor and let the feelings free.
My tears are plenty.
My legs start to cramp and my butt is numb from sitting on this hard floor for so long. Slowly, I climb to my feet. Wash my face. Rinse my mouth and take a few sips of water. I pull myself together and exit the bathroom, confusion and curiosity co-piloting my actions—anger loitering in the background ready to set up when one falters.
“I have questions and I want answers.”
