Operation Zulu Redemption: Out of Nowhere - Part 2 (10 page)

The noonday sun stood sentry over the Marine guarding the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. He paced back and forth, meticulous and precise in every step, every twitch of every muscle as he carried that M14 rifle, handmade by the Tomb Guards. He marched twenty-one steps south, down the black mat laid across the Tomb, then turned and faced east—toward the Tomb for twenty-one seconds. Upon completing that, he pivoted north, changed the weapon to the outside shoulder and waited twenty-one more seconds. The Guard then marched twenty-one steps back down the mat. Then faced east for another twenty-one seconds before he turned south and changed the weapon yet again to the outside shoulder and waited another twenty-one seconds. Never twenty-two nor twenty.

Always twenty-one. The highest military honor—the twenty-one gun salute.

As that Guard stood fast over a fallen soldier, Marine, airman, or sailor until the changing of the guard, so the brigadier general who waited by the fountain would stand guard over the lives of the Zulu members.

The four-star general joined him at the fountain, his eyes hidden today behind a pair of aviator sunglasses. “A lot of hands are digging into your mess.” He kept his voice low, no doubt out of respect for the setting. For the dead.

“Indeed,” the brigadier said. “Too many, but I think we can bring it under control.”

“Do what you have to. There is a lot more involved than your remaining three gryphons and their handlers.”

The brigadier pulled himself straight at the mention of the code name for the female operators. The legendary creatures with the body, tail, and back legs of a lion; the head and wings of an eagle; and an eagle’s talons as its front feet were known for guarding treasure and priceless possessions. Just as the female special operators would be doing in protecting U.S. interests abroad.

“Understood.”

“Do you?” The four-star snapped toward him. “You seem very cozy with the commander. And you look the other way regarding the INSCOM analyst’s meddling. And what of that Navy SEAL?”

“They are all digging in the wrong areas.”

“But they’re digging. And it only takes one of them hitting a fault line to bring the entire mountain down. That
cannot
happen. Things are too tenuous right now.” He let out a ragged breath. “Six years and it could all come crashing down.”

“Could, but won’t. We’ll get a collar on this.”

“We are too close to shutting him down. You realize that, don’t you?”

“I do.” Gunfire cracked the air, a funeral ending with the startlingly loud gun salute. They stood silently, respectfully, until the quiet returned.

“I want them shut down—the meddlers.”

The words were not as innocuous as one might believe. This was no ordinary phrasing. This was the four-star’s way of telling him to neutralize the threats. But he wasn’t ready to kill curious people, people who cared about someone and wanted the truth, wanted justice. “Sir, I can contain this.” Though he wasn’t sure he could. He’d tried. Hard. “I’ve already made inroads in blocking their access.” That much was true. Rerouting searches. Providing false hits. False information. He had an entire team watching the movement of those in Manson and Washington, and Francesca Solomon in Alexandria. “The colonel is aware of the threats.”

“I can’t have this unload on him now. Not after all these years. We’re too close.” He faced him and patted his shoulder. “You weren’t afraid to make the hard calls in Afghanistan. Don’t be now.”

“No, sir.”

“Whatever it takes. Whatever you need.”

“Her vitals are fine, have been for the last week or so,” the female doctor in the white lab coat said as she stood in the hall with Boone. “Overall, things are looking good.”

“Then why is she still unconscious?”

“That’s a question science can’t answer. Her body is repairing itself, and often, the brain after a traumatic injury will also contribute to a reparative ‘down time.’ At this point, only Keeley’s body will know when it’s time to wake up.”

“So she
will
wake up? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I. . .” She hedged.

“Okay,” Boone said. “Understood.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m a soldier, ma’am. I’ve seen men die.”

She touched his arm, her dark face filled with compassion. “Seeing one of your buddies die is not the same as seeing someone you love die.”

“Maybe,” Boone said, adjusting his ball cap, “but it’s not far from it.” He gave her a curt nod. “Thank you, ma’am.” He had no idea if she believed him. And he didn’t care. Because Keeley wasn’t going to die. She’d pull through, just as she had when that chunk of metal hit her when the warehouse blew in Misrata.

Boone navigated the hallway, which was more congested than normal. At the far end, he spotted Rusty. No matter how long the guy had been here, how many nights he’d put in, Rusty always stood ready. Alert. Prepared. There had to be a way to convince him to come back and help Zulu.

Rusty shook his hand. “The doc tell you?”

“What, that she’s sleeping on the job?”

Rusty smirked. “No, I meant about the general.”

Boone frowned. “What about him?”

“He was here a couple of hours ago, asking about Keeley, about her prognosis.”

Now why would the general come down here to check on her? They’d given him detailed reports, including copies of the doctor’s notes, her charts, and Boone’s personal comments. “Did he say why?”

“No, just asked, went in, and stood with her for a few minutes. He did ask if she’d been moved since coming here.”

“Moved?”

“Yeah, dunno. I told him she’d been downgraded from CIC, then he left.”

“General Solomon?” Boone’s mind couldn’t get past their CO coming in here and asking questions. Did he not trust them? Was something going on? Had a threat or complaint been lodged?

“Yeah. No mistaking him.”

“Was he alone?”

“To my knowledge,” Rusty said with a nod.

Thinking, Boone stared through the window to where Keeley lay. It didn’t make sense. “Unsettling.”

“Never met a soldier who wasn’t unsettled when a general came through.”

“Hooah,” Boone muttered. Then he remembered a quirk about Trusty Rusty. He paused, glanced at the man he’d grown to respect pretty fast. “What do you think?”

Amusement tweaked his blue eyes. “I think he’s weighing options. She’s been here a while. We’ve already had one person snooping around.”

“The SEAL.”

Rusty nodded. “I’d like to think I don’t miss much, but what if I have?” He angled his head to the side, toward Keeley’s room. “What danger is she in, if I didn’t catch something?”

Balling his fists did little to calm Boone. “Anything else?”

Again, Rusty smiled with his eyes. “Have you thought of relocating her to the bunker? Doc says she’s okay, that this coma. . .they don’t know how long it’ll last, so can’t she be monitored at the bunker?”

“I don’t have medical skills like that.”

“Find someone who does. Pay them.”

“And compromise the bunker?” Boone shook his head.

“How much more is compromised with her exposed to a constant stream of medical staff and strangers. It’d be much easier. What about that house you’re restoring?”

“Only the lower level is ready. I’m bunking in what should be the laundry room.”

“Does it have a living room?”

Boone eyed him, his heart ramming against his ribs. “You’re saying bring her out there.”

“Not saying anything.”

Now Boone smiled. “Trace won’t let me until she’s ambulatory. You should come back to the bunker and help me convince him to do it now. Heck, just come back to the team, Trusty.”

Taking a step backward, Rusty lowered his gaze.

“What would it take, Trusty? You sit here and babysit Keeley. What’s different about going to the bunker and babysitting the others?”

“They’re active. She’s not.”

“But you’re top dog at threat assessment. You have instincts unlike—”

“I’m not returning,” Rusty said, finality in his words. “Sorry, sir. No disrespect intended.”

“I’m not a ‘sir,’ not anymore. I just wish you’d reconsider. We need you.”

“Appreciate that. I do. But this. . .” A distant expression took root in his eyes. “I’ve seen too much and don’t want to go there again. Not when it’s in my control.”

He wouldn’t try to guilt the guy into helping them. Boone gave a nod. “Understood.”

Rusty frowned and looked over Boone’s shoulder. “Who. . .I don’t recognize that nurse.”

Alarms blazed in Boone’s mind. Without hesitating, he threw himself at the door. Broke through and lifted his weapon. Swept the room and found the male nurse standing at Keeley’s bedside. “Step away!”

“What?”

“Step away.
Now!”

“You’re kidding—”

“So help me, if you do not move now I will put lead between your eyes!” The male nurse took a tentative step back, glancing at Keeley.

“Hands where I can see them,” Boone said. He didn’t trust this guy. “Don’t move!”

The man whitened. “Holy cow—I’m not. I’m not!”

Sidestepping, Boone gave himself a clear line of sight on the man as he stared down his weapon at him. “Hands. Where I can see them. Nice and easy.”

Rusty moved past Boone and plucked the badge from the nurse’s uniform. “Stay here.”

“Uh,” the nurse said, hands in the air as he nervously looked at Boone. “No problem.”

“I’ll check it out,” Rusty said.

“We haven’t seen you here before,” Boone said, accusation in his tone and words. Vibrations tremored through veins, hot and thrumming. Ready for a confrontation. He’d been waiting for this moment. Waiting to catch the pukes who’d put Keeley here. He knew they’d come back to finish her off. Just didn’t expect them to take this long.

“That would be because this is my first day at Reston.” He didn’t look but mid-twenties and like he might wet his blue scrubs. “I worked at Inova Loudoun for the last three years.”

Boone kept his weapon down, but he was ready. “We weren’t told of new staff.”

“Why would you be?” the nurse asked, but his gaze hit Boone’s Glock. “Who are you that you are notified of personnel changes?”

“I think the weapon explains why I’m notified,” Boone said.

Rusty and head nurse, Cora, rushed in. “He’s clear.”

Boone gave the guy a once-over then holstered his weapon. “Nobody enters this room without prior authorization.”

“I’m sorry,” Nurse Cora said. “We faxed the paperwork in, but—”“We didn’t get it.” Boone glared at Rusty. “I’ll be back.”

Once he made it to his truck, Boone dropped against the seat. Closed his eyes. Swiped his hands over his face. He’d been so ready to take that kid’s head off. What bothered him more was that the male nurse walked right past him and Boone hadn’t paid attention.

Keeley’s life is in my hands, and I let her down.

“Pain is weakness leaving the body,” Téya muttered for the umpteenth time as she pushed up from the floor and slapped Annie’s hand. Then down again, repeating the phrase yet again, then lifting to pat Annie’s other hand.

Beside her, Annie ignored the trembling in her own limbs. Should she be worried about Téya? The fiery woman had more fire than ever. But this. . .this wasn’t right. It felt dangerous. Téya hadn’t been the same since returning from Paris, since her encounter with the assassin.

Annie struggled to lift herself back up to complete her forty-eighth push-up. She paused, gathering from the dregs of her strength. To her left, Annie shared a look with Nuala, whose brown hair lay plastered to her head with sweat and from the sparring helmet she’d worn ten minutes ago. They both shook their heads, neither of them able to huff through their workouts as easily as Téya. While Annie had an athletic build, Nuala was the smallest of the three. Jessie, when they were together and she was alive, had been the tiniest with her size two waist, but she held her own. They all had, but none as fiercely as Candice or Téya. And that was amplified now, after Téya’s run-in with The Turk.

“C’mon, ladies! Your attacker won’t wait because you’re tired,” Quade Henley shouted, though he stood only five feet away. “Isn’t that right, Two?”

Téya’s expression went stone cold as she completed another half-dozen push-ups as if they were her first.

“See, One? That’s how it’s done.”

“Why don’t you get off her back?” Dropping against the mat, Annie rolled onto her back. “In fact, give us all a break. We’ve been at this for over an hour.”

“What will your enemy say, One?”

“He’ll say I smell too bad to fight.” Annie pulled herself off the mat and started stretching.

“Get up! Get up and give me a mile,” Quade shouted at her, his face twisted in anger.

Grateful for some time out in the fresh air, Annie headed topside. Even as they entered the cement stairwell, she heard the impatient fingers of rain outside. Great. Exhausted
and
wet now. They stepped into the ominously dark day and beat the path through the woods and muck to complete their mile.

Téya glided past them.

“She’s not human,” Nuala huffed out as they crossed the creek.

“She’s driven,” Annie said, then fell silent as she and Nuala maintained a steady, albeit slower running pace. They returned to the bunker, sopping wet and with rubbery legs.

“Suit up,” Quade barked as he clapped and waved them back into the makeshift gymnasium. “Give me twenty pull-ups.”

Annie slowed, but she wasn’t giving him anything but a piece of her mind. “I’m not your dog. I don’t obey barked commands.”

“No, but you’re a soldier—”

“I’m not, actually,” Annie said, her chest rising with a heavy breath. “I’m a woman snatched out of the life she created when someone tried to kill her. I didn’t ask for or want this.”

“Well, too bad because you’ve got it,” Quade growled, his voice gravelly.

Téya slowly came to her feet, dusting off her hands as she walked around, inhaling and exhaling.

“Tell you what,” Quade said with a vicious grin. “I will get off your back when you can take me down.”

Annie blinked. Was the tank-of-a-guy serious? Even as she studied him, she noted that Téya turned toward them, a dark glint in her eye.

Hands on the back of her hips, Nuala asked, “Take you down? How?”

“Any way you can.” His voice grated along Annie’s nerves. “But I promise you—I will make it as hard as I can. I will not be soft. I will not go easy.”

“When?” Téya’s question had the air of challenge, the same one that lurked in her hazel eyes.

Quade turned to her, his black hair slick with sweat, his navy T-shirt ringed with stains around his pits and neck, making the shirt stick to his buff body. All reminders that he had strength and power Annie could not dream of possessing. Which made her nervous for Téya, who was taller than Annie, and more athletic, but still a slight woman compared to the oaf.

“When can we challenge you?”

Quade grinned, and Annie realized the guy wasn’t half bad looking. Not as charming and sexy as Sam, or as intense and raw as Trace. Quade held his own attractiveness. “You want it now?”

“Yes,” Téya said without hesitation.

“Let’s do it.” Quade motioned her onto the mat in front of him.

Annie felt herself step forward, knowing the pent-up frustration fueling Téya’s motivation to confront Quade. She had to stop her friend. “Te—”

“No,” Trace’s voice stabbed the tension.

Annie swung toward the entrance, where Trace stood in a tactical shirt and ACU pants. Though he seemed to wear the same terse expression every minute of the day, Annie saw past that. Saw the uncertainty and protection slipping past his tough facade. So, he was worried about Téya too.

His green gaze slid to Annie and held for a second, then to Téya and Nuala. “Shower up. Command room in fifteen.” He stepped back, then said, “Quade.”

“Guess it’s your lucky day, Two. Your commander saved your hide from a heap of embarrassment.”

Annie snapped to Téya, who seemed ready to blow as the gruff PT instructor strode out of the room after Trace. “You have some shower gel I can borrow?” Annie asked, knowing full well she had an entire bottle in her locker.

A tremor raced through Téya as she slowly. . .very slowly dragged her gaze to Annie. And it was as if Téya looked straight through Annie, until she blinked. “Sorry. What?”

“Shower gel?” Annie shrugged. “I ran out.”

Another blink. A long hesitation. Then, “Sure.”

Once Téya headed out, Annie and Nuala gave each other a “that was close” look. Annie let out a long breath through puffed cheeks as she followed Nuala to the bunk rooms. After grabbing a clean change of clothes, Annie went to the showers.

Ten minutes later, dressed and dirty clothes put in the laundry room, Téya bumped Annie’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

“For what?” Annie asked as she stowed her toiletries in her locker.

Téya leaned past her and reached into the metal cabinet. She held up the bottle of gel. “For distracting me.”

Annie tamped down her smile. “Huh. Wonder where that came from.”