A Point of Honor

by C L Rowell

  Millie slammed her head back into Suit A’s face, busting his nose and causing blood to gush down his face, distracting him long enough for her to get loose. She took off in my direction at a run. Behind her back, the suit drew a gun. I knew there was no way I’d get there in time to stop him but something in my face—probably a look of sheer unmitigated terror—must have tipped her off about what was going on behind her. She dodged to the left as he fired and the bullet that would have torn through her back and left a hole the size of a dinner plate in her chest merely nicked her arm—but the recoil from the overconfident one-armed shot knocked his arm up and back. The pistol smacked him between the eyes, knocking him out cold in a stroke of luck for us.

  “Are you guys okay?”

  I spun around. The hotel’s night manager was jogging in our direction, his expression terrified but determined.

  “Yeah,” I studied his face. “Sorry about the mess—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” His skin appeared ghostly pale in the early evening light and he had a dazed glaze in his eyes. He pushed past it as I watched, rallying before my eyes despite the shock I suspected was setting in. “I saw everything. The cameras caught it, too, and the authorities are on their way. Clean your dog up and close him in the room. With me and the cameras to back you up he should be safe, but you know how the police are about bigger breeds. We don’t want any more accidental or stray bullets flying around.” He winked, smiling weakly.

  “Thank you, that’s a great idea.” Millie led Butch back inside our hotel room.

  Sirens and flashing lights had everyone in the surrounding rooms, the Waffle House, and the Citgo across the street rubbernecking as both the dead suit and his groggy but alive partner were loaded up into ambulances.

  An officer approached me and the night manager. “Can you tell me what happened here?”

  “I can.”

  We all turned toward the soft feminine voice that somehow managed to cut through the noise without yelling. Millie. My heart convulsed as I thought about how things almost turned out and I had to restrain myself from rushing to her side.

  14

  Millie

  ∞∞∞

  I took Butch inside and gave him the world’s fastest bath, toweled him dry, and left him curled up on an extra blanket on the couch. I could still feel blood seeping from the wound on my arm and it throbbed like a bitch, but I knew I had to get back out there. My timing was perfect, too. As I stepped out and pulled the door closed behind me an officer that looked to be in his mid-forties was approaching Todd.

  “Can you tell me what happened here?”

  “I can.” Before I’d even registered that I’d been the one to speak up every eye in the crowd landed on me.

  “Are you okay, ma’am? Do you need an ambulance?”

  I glanced at the seeping wound and shook my head. “Maybe some peroxide and a bandage…and a tetanus shot later, if I get my nerve up. I’m okay, though.”

  “Can you tell me what happened here this evening?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah.” It wasn’t until I saw Todd smirk that it occurred to me it wasn’t a rhetorical question. I blushed. “Oh, you meant…well, I was in the room, waiting for someone to get off his phone and grab dinner—speaking of which…” I looked around. “Where is it?”

  “I, uhh, I dropped it in the excitement.” As Todd said the words a picture of Styrofoam containers and paper cups tumbling to the asphalt coalesced inside my head. I must have seen it happen and spaced it in the heat of the moment.

  “Oh.” I shrugged, disappointed. “Anyway, as I was saying, I heard a knock at the door. My first thought was that Todd had forgotten his keycard but, out of habit, I looked first. It wasn’t him.”

  “Who was it?”

  I wrapped my arms around my ribs, wincing as the motion pulled at the spot where the bullet ripped through my arm, making it sting and bleed even more. “It was two men in suits and sunshades. I almost opened the door—but then I saw the van.”

  He pointed to his left, “That van?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s so special about this van?”

  I shivered. “It belongs to the bad guys.”

  “The bad guys?”

  Todd cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “Before we can go into specifics about the suits and the van, we’re going to have to call Lieutenant General Miller and get his okay.”

  “Lieutenant…General…Miller?” The officer’s eyes widened. “This person is an officer in the military, if I’m not mistaken?”

  “Indeed, he is. He’s a three-star general in the Marine Corps, stationed in Twentynine Palms, California. I answered to him before I was forced into retirement due to a disability. Last I heard, any information pertaining to the occupants of that van is classified and you’ll have to go through the proper channels if you need more than the bare bones minimum dirt on it.”

  My jaw dropped as I watched the grizzled policeman doff his uniform hat, inspiring a wave of the same in the rest of the officers on the scene. Their whole attitude became more respectful than it had been—more deferential.

  “Thank you for your service and sorry to hear about your disability, sir. Do you need to sit down?”

  “No, I’m fine.” Todd grinned. “As long as I don’t have to run anywhere, I’ll be all right.”

  “Well, the offer’s open. Let us know if you change your mind.”

  “Noted. Would you like for me to call Lieutenant General Miller for you?”

  “Yes, if you would. While we wait, what exactly can she tell us without his permission?”

  “She can tell you everything that happened here this evening.”

  “Good enough,” he turned back to me. “Please proceed. What happened when you didn’t open the door?”

  “They busted it open.”

  “I see. Go on.”

  “Butch, my dog, tried to protect me. One of them kicked him in the ribs. He’s lucky they didn’t cave them in.” A rush of tears temporarily blinded me at the memory, and I blinked them away. “They demanded the envelope—”

  “Envelope?”

  “Classified,” Todd murmured.

  The officer nodded his understanding and I continued, “They grabbed me by my arms and started dragging me out the door. I fought long enough for Butch to recover and he slowed them down until Todd showed up. The dead guy was going to shoot him when Todd shouted, distracting them…” I trailed off at the memory of the gun swinging around toward Todd and the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach at the thought of a world without him in it.

  “And then what happened?”

  “Sorry,” I blinked, dazed at the realization of the depths of my feelings for my brother’s friend. “He swung the gun around and pointed it at Todd…”

  “And?”

  “Butch defended me,” Todd stated, “and caused him to lose his grip on the gun.”

  “I bashed the guy holding me prisoner in the face with my head while he was distracted, breaking his nose,” I took over again. “When I felt his grip loosen, I struggled and got away. I ran—”

  Todd spoke again, “He pulled his gun and aimed it at her. I was terrified. I guess she saw something in my face, because she dodged to the side—”

  I bobbed my head, grinning, “You always hear that you’re supposed to run in a zigzag pattern to make yourself a more difficult target, so that’s what I did when I saw the look on your face. He still got my arm, but it could have been so much worse.”

  “And, how did he get knocked out?”

  I shrugged and looked at Todd, “My back was to him. Did you see what happened?”

  “He had a Colt. They’re two-handed weapons, but he fired it with one hand, and his overconfidence cost him. The resulting recoil nearly caved his skull in. ”

  “I have all of that on video if anyone needs it,” the still shaky manager offered, raising his hand. “It exonerates both of them and the dog and validates their stor
y.”

  “Make a copy of that and send it over to the station addressed to me as soon as possible.” He gave him a business card.

  “Yes, sir.” He shook the officer and Todd’s hands and nodded to me. “I’m here most nights if you need me. I should get back to the front, though.”

  “Thanks for your help.” As he walked away, I returned my eyes to the officer who seemed to be in charge. He had Todd’s phone pressed to the side of his head and wore a frown of concentration on his tanned, weathered face.

  “Yes, sir,” he muttered. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it and I’ll call you if we have any questions. Yes, sir, I understand. If your hands are tied, they’re tied. What’s that? No, sir, they’re free to go. The van? It’ll be locked in the impound lot. I’ll leave word that someone will be by to fetch it. Yes, thank you, sir. Good day to you, as well.”

  He held out Todd’s phone with a bewildered expression.

  “Thanks,” Todd took it back, shoving it in his front pants pocket. “Did you get everything you needed?”

  “I think so. We’re going to be here a bit longer but you’re free to go.”

  After we closed the door behind us, I glanced back at him. “What are we going to do about that door? I won’t be able to close my eyes with it like that.”

  He opened his mouth but a knock on the door interrupted him. He frowned. “Hold that thought.”

  I crossed the last few steps to the nearest bed and dropped onto it. Butch padded over. I gently stroked along his side where I could see a slight swelling. “Poor baby, are you okay?”

  He pressed his cold nose to my cheek and licked my face, making me giggle.

  Todd came back, an odd expression on his face. “That was the night manager. Since our door was busted open, he offered us another room for the night.”

  “Aww, wasn’t that sweet!”

  His expression didn’t change. “There’s just one problem.”

  “Well, what is it?”

  “They don’t have any more on the first floor with two beds. This is the key to the room right next door, but it’s a single king room. He said we could move upstairs if we preferred.”

  I remembered how I felt when I thought he could die—how my heart shattered at the mere thought. I smiled at him. “That room is fine. I don’t mind.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I’ll sleep on top of the covers, fully dressed—”

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “Are you sure?” He blinked at me.

  “I’m sure. Have the police finished up and gone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s move next door. Do you feel up to going and getting more food? We could just order pizza, and have it delivered.”

  He perked up, “I like pizza.”

  After we gorged our fill on pepperoni and mushroom pizza, and Butch feasted on plain boneless wings, I took a shower and changed into my kami and shorts set in preparation for bed. I stepped out, meeting his eyes shyly, “The shower’s open.”

  “Thanks,” his voice almost had the higher pitch and crackle of a young man going through puberty. He valiantly struggled to keep his eyes above my chin, and I hid a smile. A long time later, when the water finally went quiet, I stretched out beneath the covers and waited for him to come out.

  15

  Todd

  ∞∞∞

  As I showered, my mind kept bouncing back to that moment when Suit B turned his gun on Millie and pulled the trigger. If she’d died…rage flickered to life inside my heart at the thought. Rage toward myself for my inability to speak in the midst of my panic. Rage toward him for daring to even consider harming a hair on her head. I clenched my fist until my knuckles whitened, wanting to strike out—wanting to hurt him. The temptation to punch a hole in the wall filled me, but how would I explain my reasons to Millie without frightening her? Waiting in the next room, there was no way she could miss hearing it—and she wasn’t exactly the type to be placated with platitudes. What if my display of violence scared her away?

  Needing to calm my emotions, I pictured her as she looked coming out of the shower earlier, her brown hair damp from the steam and curling around her face, the thin material of her night clothes clinging to her curves and revealing almost as much as they concealed. Mine. The word whispered through my mind, echoing in my heart. It felt right. I nearly lost her twice because of those goons. It wouldn’t happen again.

  Twisting the shower knob until it creaked in warning, I toweled off and dragged my pajama bottoms over damp skin to cling low on my hips. I promised myself I’d talk with her about my feelings as soon as morning came—and I’d speak to the lieutenant general about the implications of the night’s attack. She was supposed to be safe once the envelope was in Donaldson’s hands. Why hadn’t they called off their pursuit? Why the attempt to take her prisoner? What did they hope to accomplish?

  Before I could open the door, another thought drifted through my head—Miles. I had forgotten in the excitement, but I still needed to tell her he wasn’t dead. I hesitated, unsure. It wasn’t exactly news that I could justify putting off until the morning. I knew in my heart, if someone I cared for was presumed dead and then discovered alive, I’d want to know as soon as possible. Miles was one of my closest friends, but he was her only surviving relative. In her shoes, I’d definitely want to hear the news sooner rather than later…hell, I’d want to know anyway, and we weren’t even blood related.

  I banged my head on the doorjamb and reentered the bedroom, my mind made up. “We need to talk.”

  “Was the knocking sound I heard you?” She tilted her head, a suggestion of a smile hovering around her lips. “Did you really knock before coming back into the bedroom?”

  “No,” my cheeks stung with embarrassment. Suddenly I was very glad I’d refrained from punching the wall in frustration. “I was banging my head against the wall.”

  “Why on earth would you do that?”

  I sighed, roughing up my still-drying flattop. “That’s why we have to talk.”

  “Okay.” She patted the empty sheet next to her. Her forehead creased, showing her concern. “Let’s talk.”

  Without thinking, I leaned closer and kissed her forehead right where the crease marred her skin as I accepted her invitation. She smiled in response and my heart lightened.

  “I heard some information I’m absolutely certain you’ll want to know—”

  “Ooh, that sounds promising. I could use some good news, too. Who did you hear this scoop from?”

  “Lieutenant General Miller.”

  “I…see,” but I could tell by the expression on her face, she didn’t. Not really. “That’s who you were on the phone with?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “I wanted to touch base and catch him up on everything that happened, especially since he was the one responsible for putting me in charge of the search in the first place.”

  “That makes sense, I guess.” Her expression didn’t alter, though. “Go on.”

  “He wanted me to come in and debrief, to speak to a few people and type up a report about everything that happened. I tried to bargain and get a bit more information on the bad guys—I wanted it for your peace of mind and mine, if nothing else.”

  “And he agreed?” Hope peeked from the depths of her worried eyes.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Oh. So, what happened, then?”

  “I told him I’d write up a report and send it in but that I wasn’t coming to Twentynine Palms in person.”

  “Twentynine Palms…I recognize that name. Miles spent time there before he got stationed in Norway. That’s in California, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Is that where you were living before you got sent on a wild goose chase looking for my brother?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “I’ve been out of the military for several months. I have a motor home that I stay in on the Oregon coast while I decide wh
ere I want to settle down and live out my final days.”

  “Ooh, yes, cuz you’re so old.” She stuck out her tongue. “You’re the same age Miles was, give or take a year. That’s not old.”

  “Older than you,” I teased. Clearing my throat and sobering a bit, I gently shifted the subject. “This leads to what I needed to talk to you about, in a way.”

  “It does?”

  I nodded my head. “There’s no way to say this without springing it on you so I’m just going to spit it out…”

  Fear filled her eyes, “I’m listening.”

  “I have reason to believe Miles isn’t dead—”

  She leaped to her feet, stumbling and coming close to falling on her ass. “That’s not funny!”

  “It wasn’t intended to be funny.”

  “What kind of game are you playing?” Tears overflowed her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. “The paper said his car crashed and exploded after plunging off the side of a mountain. There’s no way he survived that.”

  “Well, apparently he did,” I started to get pissed off. Who was she to call me a liar after I’d been nothing but straight with her?

  “Bullshit! If he survived, I’d know. I’m his family.”

  “Whom everyone thinks is dead.”

  She reeled back like I’d physically struck her. “Why are you doing this? Why get my hopes up? What do you hope to accomplish?”

  My anger collapsed as her words sank in. “I have no ulterior motives, Millie. I told you what I did because that’s what the lieutenant general told me, and I’d want to be told if I was in your shoes.”

  She wiped her cheeks, visibly struggling to calm down. “Tell me what happened and exactly what he said.”

  I gripped the back of my neck in both hands and squeezed in an attempt to release tension in my neck and shoulders. I closed my eyes to focus, thinking back. “I had refused to come in one last time because I was pissed that he still wouldn’t tell me about the guys in the blacked-out vans. I was getting ready to hang up and go get the food and he said, and I quote, what if I said Miles Masterson wasn’t dead?”