Eight Years: A Novel (Trident Trilogy: Book One)

by Donna Schwartze

  The next morning, Mr. Dooley called Millie to tell her that Camille had left everything to her—the house and two acres of beach-adjacent property. Millie was shocked. She hadn’t really thought about who Camille would leave her things to after Mack died, but she was certain it wasn’t going to be her. Dooley said there was a note from Camille to Millie attached to the will. He texted her a picture of it.

  Millicent -

  Your dad gave me a letter when you were a baby to give to you in case he didn’t come home from one of his missions. Well, he didn’t come home from one. I didn’t give it to you then, and I probably should have thrown it away.

  He asked me not to read it. I didn’t. It’s probably full of the nonsense you two were always talking. I never understood why he coddled you so much. I’ve told you from day one, you have to be tough. It’s the only way you will survive.

  You’ve never listened to one piece of advice I’ve given to you, but I hope you listen to this one. Throw his letter away. Don’t read it. Move on with your life. I’ve left you everything. You’ll have plenty of money to get away from this town, and start a new life without him, and without me.

  For once, have some sense in your head. Move on.

  Camille

  Millie laughed for the first time since Mack died. She didn’t know what she had expected Camille’s last words to her to be, but she thought those were pretty close. She still had Mack’s letter in her purse. She took it out and just stared at it for a few minutes before she opened it. She wasn’t sure she was ready to read it, but she knew she had to.

  December 12, 1995

  Millie,

  If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead. I don’t know how it happened, but I guess it was my time. I’m so sorry to leave you alone in this life, but just know, every day, that I loved you more than anything in the world. Becoming your dad transformed me into the person who I was meant to be. You saved me, Millie, and please know all of the decisions I made along the way were to save you. If you ever need me, just look up in the sky, I’ll be there waiting for you.

  With all my love,

  Dad

  Millie curled up in a ball on her bed and cried for a good hour before she heard Chase and Mariel talking downstairs. She dragged herself out of the bed and went downstairs to tell them about the letter. As she got to the bottom of the stairs, she heard her name.

  “Chase, I’ve been married to you for twenty years. I know how the SEAL family works. When someone dies, we all fill in the void, but we can’t be Millie’s parents. She’s almost seventeen. She has to find her own life.”

  “Mar, it’s about more than loyalty. There’s something I haven’t told you.” Chase hesitated. “Actually, a lot I haven’t told you.”

  “What haven’t you told me?” Mariel’s voice raised a few octaves.

  “It’s who Millie is, who her mother is. . .” Chase’s voice trailed off.

  “You told me her mother died in an accident right after Millie was born. She was from New York, right?”

  “No, she wasn’t, and that’s not now she died. Look, I can’t tell you everything, but Millie’s mom was a woman we worked with in Bosnia named Nejra. She was killed right after Millie was born.”

  “Killed? Like murdered?”

  “She was from a strict Muslim family. She was single, pregnant. No one knew who the father was. Her brother apparently killed her in what they call an honor killing after she had the baby—to bring back honor to his family.”

  “What are you talking about? That’s crazy. And, Mack knew about all of this?”

  “Yeah, he only knew after it all happened. He didn’t even know Nejra was pregnant. They had a fling when we were in Bosnia. Nothing serious. We were long gone from Bosnia by the time he found out. He got a phone call like six months after we got back. It was a man. He didn’t know who, maybe Nejra’s brother, told him that she had had his baby, and had been killed for it. He told him where the baby was. Mack told me about the call. I thought it was some kind of set-up. He wanted leave to go over and find the baby. I told him not to go. I begged him not to go, but he was going to go whether I gave him the time or not, so I told him he could take his two weeks personal time. A week and a half later, he shows up back in the States with the baby, with Millie.”

  “Jesus, Chase, did he kidnap her?”

  “Well, I mean technically, she’s his daughter. He had her tested when he got back but yeah, he just took her.”

  “How long have you know about this?”

  “From day one, he told me everything.”

  “This is crazy, Chase. Mack kidnapped a child from a foreign country. He could have gone to jail. You could have gone to jail for hiding his secret. What the fuck were you thinking? Her family in Bosnia has probably been looking for her all these years.”

  “The only family she has is her uncle, and that’s the part of the story I can’t tell you—who her uncle is. But, let’s just say, Mack was right to get Millie away from him. He likely would have killed her.”

  “Who’s her uncle? Is he dangerous? Did he kill Mack?”

  “I can’t talk about that, Mar, but the reason Mack and I stayed silent all these years was to protect Millie, and that’s why Millie has to stay close to us now that Mack is gone. I told Mack I would never let anything happen to her if he died, and I won’t.”

  “Chase, we have two children of our own. If having Millie here puts them in danger, we can’t keep her here. I won’t do it.”

  “I don’t think Millie’s uncle has any idea where she is. Honestly, he might not even be alive anymore.”

  Millie walked back upstairs quietly, Mack’s letter still in her hand. She shoved the letter back into her purse and sat down on the bed. She couldn’t believe what she just heard. She couldn’t believe her dad had lied to her all those years.

  “All of the decisions I made along the way were to save you.”

  She knew Chase wouldn’t tell her anymore if she asked him, so she decided not to tell him she had overheard the conversation. For the first time since Mack died, Millie felt like she had a reason to live. She had to find out who her mother was, and if her uncle had killed her mom and maybe even her dad. And, if her uncle was still alive, Millie knew she had to find a way to kill him.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Millie

  Sarajevo, Bosnia

  2019

  After being in Sarajevo for only a week, we had a positive sighting of Yusef Hadzic. Our agent, who had been sitting on his sister’s house, saw him leaving there around midnight two nights ago. Unfortunately, our agent had not been able to get to the street fast enough to tail him, but he did get good photographs of him, and we identified him at a one hundred percent match to be Hadzic.

  I spent the better part of the morning on the phone with my boss. The higher-ups in D.C. are going nuts. They can’t believe that we found, and then lost, Hadzic. I haven’t slept at all since we located him. I’m trying to put the pieces together of where he went after he left the sister’s house. I’ve already been to her house to interview her, her husband, and her kids. I believe what they told me, that they don’t know where he goes when he leaves their house. He could even be back in Afghanistan by this time.

  My eyes are blurry from looking at satellite images and I need some fresh air. I decide to go for a jog. I haven’t talked to Mason since he left my house that morning, but I can hear his voice in my head warning me not to jog alone. I do it anyway. I need to clear my head, and I don’t need anyone distracting me. The guards barely look at me as I leave the embassy’s back gate. I head down a side street and veer off toward the river. As I start to tire out, I realize I’ve probably gotten a little too far out of the city. I’m almost in the foothills of the mountains, and I’m not sure I have the energy to get all the way back to the embassy.

  I try to call back to t
he embassy to get a car to pick me up, but I’m not getting a signal, so I decide to start walking back. My feet hurt and I have a headache. I’m beginning to regret my decision to jog alone. I need some motivation, so I crank up Clapton in my earbuds. Another thing Mason told me not to do. I can hear him in my head. “Turn down the music, Mills. Be aware of your surroundings.”

  I miss him. I didn’t think I would, but it’s been hard to focus on anything with him occupying a good portion of my brain. As I’m thinking about how much I’d like to see his face right now, I feel someone grab me from behind. My head is so full of thoughts of Mason that for a split second, I think it’s him. That thought leaves my head completely when I see the gun in my assailant’s hand.

  I’m already a step behind, but I react as quickly as my brain lets me. I jab an elbow into the body behind me, and then step down hard on his foot. As the body recoils from me, I turn around to see Yusef Hadzic bent over in front of me. Clapton is still blasting in my ears, making it hard to think. I am miles out of town. There is nowhere to run, no one to hear me yell. Yusef begins to straighten up. My only choice is to fight. I kick him in the face before he straightens up the entire way, causing him to fall back a little farther. I follow him, and try to land a good hard kick to his balls, but he’s recovered enough to grab my foot. I try to shake loose, but he has a good grip and pulls me closer, raising his gun back up and pointing it at my head.

  “Let’s stop this nonsense,” he says in Bosnian as he clicks the safety off the gun.

  I’m sure he’s about to shoot me. My dad’s face flashes before my eyes. He’s smiling at me, and all I can think is that I’m probably going to see him soon.

  Another man gets out of the car behind us. “Yusef, enough! Get her in the car now.” He’s speaking in Pashto. I’ve never seen this man before.

  Yusef throws my foot down and roughly grabs my arm, pushing me toward the car. I start to struggle wildly. I want them to kill me here. I’m not getting in the car. The other man comes up behind me and puts a hood over my head. I start fighting even harder. Just shoot me now, and leave my dead body by the road. One of them picks me up and shoves me into the car as I kick and scream.

  “Shut up, you whore.” I recognize Yusef’s voice. He slaps my hooded face hard enough to make me fall back against the car door.

  The other man, who I think is in the driver’s seat, yells in Pashto, “Yusef! If you hurt her, he will kill you. Don’t touch her again.”

  I press myself against the car door, hoping it will open and I will fall out of the moving car. I don’t know what’s ahead of me, so I’d prefer just to die now. The door doesn’t move, but I stay pressed up against it. No one is talking. The car is driving fast, and it feels like we’re starting to climb a steep road. I’m sure we’re headed up into the mountains.

  We drive for about an hour before we stop. I try to memorize any sounds I hear. I’ve managed to turn off my cell phone that’s in a hidden pocket in my jogging pants. Hopefully, the battery will stay strong long enough for someone to track my whereabouts. In honesty, I’m not even sure anyone knows that I’ve left the embassy except the guards, and they barely looked at me.

  Someone opens my door from the outside and grabs me before I fall out. I think it’s the other man, not Yusef. His hands feel bigger and less aggressive. He starts to lead me down what feels like a dirt path under my feet. I hear some other male voices getting louder as we continue forward. One of them says in Pashto, “Did anyone see you take her?”

  Yusef replies no.

  The other man who has ahold of my arm says, “Step up.”

  I climb up four steps and cross a door threshold. I can tell I’m inside now—the wind has stopped hitting me. The man drops my arm, and pulls off my hood. I’m standing in the middle of a foyer of a mountain cabin. There are steps to my left, and I notice someone walking down them. I turn to see an old man.

  “Yasmine,” he says, looking directly at me.

  I don’t recognize him as he gets closer. He has a full head of gray hair and a shaggy gray beard. His skin is so wrinkled and worn—it looks like he’s been standing on the sun’s surface for a week straight.

  “You don’t recognize me. But, why would you?” He’s speaking in English with a heavy Bosnian accent. “We haven’t seen each other for twenty-five years.”

  He gets within a foot of me, and I know I have never seen this face. I’m searching for any clues, but nothing is coming to me.

  Yusef comes up behind me and slaps me on the back of the head. “You don’t remember your uncle?”

  The man glares at Yusef. “I apologize for Yusef. You are bringing back bad memories for him. Do you know that he was supposed to marry your mother—my sister—before your father raped her?”

  It comes to me like a bolt of lightning striking me on the head. This man is Sayid Custovic. My uncle. I stare at him for a good minute without talking. No one has seen him in decades, and I know now that even if they did, no one would recognize him. He has aged at least fifty years from the last picture I’ve seen of him.

  “Ah, now I can see in your eyes that you know who I am. I’m afraid the cancer in my body has aged me well beyond my years. You, however, look exactly like your mother did the last time I saw her—young and beautiful. She was about your age when she was murdered.”

  I finally find my voice. “When you murdered her.”

  “Me? You think I killed my sister? She was the only good thing in my life after our parents—your grandparents—were killed in the war. I wouldn’t have hurt a hair on her head.”

  “Everyone believes you killed her because she was pregnant. An honor killing,” I say, glaring at him.

  “Yes, that was widely reported. I was supposed to do that. When the elders found out about you, they told me to kill you and your mother. I probably would have killed you eventually if your father hadn’t taken you from me. I’m assuming it was him that took you. I never knew for sure. I thought about tracking him for a while, but really he did me a favor by taking you. Your mother would have haunted me forever if I would have killed you.”

  “If you didn’t kill her, who did?”

  “When I got back to the house, and found her dead, everyone told me that her heart had just stopped beating, a reaction to delivering you. She looked so peaceful laying there. No gun wounds, no sign of a struggle. I believed them for years. But, then Amar told me what really happened. You met Amar, I believe. He’s probably the one who told you where to find Yusef’s dad. He didn’t tell me. You must have had some kind of effect on him, but then, you look just like my sister, and Amar was always in love with her. No bother, though. You led me right to Haroun. The fighters that you encountered in those hills around his house were my fighters. They found him right after you got away. You should have stayed. I was living only about ten miles from there at the time. We could have met much earlier.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Yusef start to shift nervously. The man who had driven the car grabs him by the shoulders and forces him to stand still. I glance over to him.

  Sayid continues. “Yes, you see Yusef is getting nervous. He hasn’t realized until now that I know. I’ve kept him alive this long because Amar told me you were tracking him. His father told me that he told you where to find Yusef. He never loved Yusef nearly as much as Yusef loved him. He thought he was weak. Ironically, he always loved me. I think he wished I was his son. And, after all these years, well, what I’ve done with my life, he admired me even more. I think he actually hated Americans more than he hated the Serbs and, as you know, I’ve been able to kill so many Americans in the past few decades. Your father really inspired it all. After what he did to my sister. After he raped her.”

  “My dad didn’t rape her. From what I hear, she was a very strong woman who made her own decisions.”

  “She was headstrong, and I have no doubt that she wanted to be with
your father in that way, but in my mind, it is the man who is at fault for having relations with an unmarried woman. It is rape whether she wants it or not. Yusef’s father did not see it that way though. He blamed my sister. Isn’t that right, Yusef?”

  Sayid looks over at Yusef, who is still being held firmly by the other man. Sayid walks slowly over to him. Yusef starts to stay something, but Sayid holds up his hand, silencing him immediately.

  “Amar told me that your father suffocated Nejra, Yusef. And, you moved him into the mountains to hide him from me. All these years you’ve lied to me, and told me that your father died of a heart attack. He didn’t. He died when I put a bullet through his head,” Sayid says.

  “Sayid, Amar is crazy. You know that he lost his way when he moved his family to Spain. He always resented me because I was to marry Nejra. You know this. He was lying to you about my father,” Yusef says.

  “But yet, you are the one who hid your father in the mountains, so you could still visit him, but make sure he was out of my sight. I didn’t even know that he had killed Nejra until a few months ago. Why did you think you had to hide him from me all these years?” Sayid says.

  Yusef stares blankly at him and starts to visibly shake.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter now. Your father confessed to me before I killed him, so I know now how she died. Finally, I know for sure. You know how unsettled it has made me all these years, and yet you have let me suffer.”

  “Sayid.” Yusef’s voice is so quiet that I can barely hear him.

  “No, it is much too late for any explanation. You have been a loyal soldier to me for years, but you know how much I have agonized over the years because of her death. And, you chose to let me suffer. It’s time for us to say goodbye, my friend.”

  Sayid turns and walks away from Yusef. He gently takes my arm and starts leading me up the stairs. “My niece, will you help your uncle back up to his room?”