The Twelfth Of Never: A suspense mystery romantic thriller (22 page)

"I see the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is
watching."

Jenny walked over to the dresser, picked up the picture of
Gideon's two girls and handed it to her mother. "These are his."

"Is he still married?" Carla asked. She held her
breath until Jenny shook her head and then breathed a quick sigh of relief.

Jenny picked up the pile of sheets on the floor and walked
past her mother, no longer wanting to talk about the man who had followed her
there. She turned and took one last look at the room. The last time she had
been in there was after Paddy's funeral. She remembered as a young girl all the
nights they watched the stars and talked about their futures, and what it was
they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. Jenny missed Paddy: most of all
she missed the best friend a sister ever had.

CHAPTER 23

Finally, after numerous tries, Gideon got a hold of Langley.
Although Colby was in Washington meeting with the president, Gideon left the
message with Phil March. Gideon did not like passing information on to Colby
through him, but did not want to impose on the Morgans any longer than was
necessary. He relayed a verbal report assuring Phil that Jenny was about to
give him the information they wanted and it would only be a matter of time
until he was finished with the assignment and on his way back to Langley, where
he would file a full report.

Gideon also got some disturbing information that troubled him.
An all-points bulletin was put out on Ian Usova, but he was still at large. The
Russians were up in arms and filed a formal complaint with the United Nations
insisting on an apology and that all charges be dropped as if nothing happened.

Upon hearing the news, Gideon slammed the receiver down. He
glanced around the room. The mid-marriage furniture sent his memory into overdrive.
He thought back to summers on his grandparents' farm in Maine. They were fond
memories of a time that was simple in nature. Gideon walked into the kitchen,
poured himself a cup of coffee, and glanced up at the clock above the kitchen
sink. It would be four hours before Jake made it up there, and now he was faced
with explaining this to Jenny.

Jenny dropped the pile of sheets down the bathroom chute, and
then walked downstairs in search of Gideon. She glanced out the front door. The
sun was bright and the air cool as her mother busied herself tending to late
blooms. She then heard noise coming from the kitchen.

Gideon turned as Jenny walked through the door. "Want a
cup?" he asked raising the pot.

"Sure."

Jenny walked over to the table, sat down, and then glanced up
at Gideon. She could not get over how easily Gideon fit into the farm
environment. She watched as he walked over to the table with two cups in hand.
He set the one in front of her, then took the chair across from her and sat
down.

"What did your friend want?" Jenny asked.

"He's not actually a friend. A business acquaintance, you
might say. I asked him to come up here."

"Gideon, you didn't. How am I going to explain it to my
parents?"

"I can't be expected to watch you night and day. Besides,
I now have your parents to protect."

Jenny got up from the table and walked over to the overnight
bag on the floor next to the door. She picked it up and set it on the counter.
Quickly she opened the flap. Once she pulled out the envelope, she tossed it at
Gideon.

"Now you can tell him not to come."

"It's too late. He's probably on his way."

"Well when he gets here, he can just turn around."

Gideon stared at Jenny. "You mean you've been carrying
this around with you?"

"No. I kept it in Benjamin's studio. Last night before I
decided to leave, I picked it up," Jenny said. She found it difficult to
look into his dark eyes. She stood there for a moment not knowing what more to
say.

Gideon opened the envelope and dumped the contents onto the
table. As he unfolded the map he looked up at her. "Shit, you know what
you have here?"

"Not really. And I don't care to know either."

"It's a topographical map of the area around Camp
David," was all Gideon said. He studied the map and then put it down.
Gideon picked up the other papers. He had a puzzled look on his face as he
tried to comprehend what it all meant.

"You don't understand it either?" Jenny asked, then
walked across the room and looked over Gideon's shoulder.

"It doesn't make sense."

"Join the club."

Gideon stared at the cryptic message on the piece of paper.
"I know this is coded." He turned and looked up at Jenny. "Was
there anything else?"

"Oh yeah," she said, then walked to the counter and
reached into the side pocket of her purse. Jenny handed Gideon the two envelopes.

Gideon took them from her and looked inside one, raising his
eyebrows. A smirk crossed his face as he glanced up at Jenny. "Did you
forget this on purpose?"

"If I were going to spend it, I would have done it
already."

Gideon set them on the table, and then picked up the map,
staring at it for what seemed like forever.

Jenny finally broke the long silence. "I don't understand
the writing at the bottom of the map."

Gideon looked down, and then shook his head. "When did
you get this?" he asked.

Jenny thought for a moment. "Tuesday, right after I was
at the hospital," she said.

"Are you sure?" he asked. Because if it was true
what he was thinking, then there was definitely a leak at the agency and, worse
yet, they could expect company later.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Damn," Gideon said laying the map on the table.

Jenny sat down. "Would you take me back to New
York?"

Gideon stammered for a moment. "How about tomorrow
morning. I'm not sure what time Jake will get here. And I doubt he will be
happy with me if we turn around and leave tonight."

"Gideon, I wish you would have cleared this with me
first. How am I going to explain this to my parents?" Jenny walked over to
the table and sat down while avoiding looking at Gideon.

"It would have been a lot easier if you would have come
clean in the beginning."

"What was I to do?" Jenny turned and looked into
Gideon's eyes. "Delaney told me not to trust anyone. And in comes Gideon
LaMont on his white stallion to save the world. How was I to know you were one
of the good guys?"

"You didn't even give me a chance."

"All I wanted was the truth about John."

Jenny stared at Gideon from across the table. His jaw muscles
tensed as he turned away.

"It's difficult."

"You know, Gideon, I've read all of John's letters over
and over in my mind, and he never once mentioned a Gideon LaMont."

Jenny just stared at Gideon. Part of her not being able to
trust Gideon had to do with that little fact.

"I didn't work for the army," Gideon whispered as if
not wanting the world to hear.

"Whose side were you on?"

He turned away. "They called it Clandestine Operations.
It's a nice word for spying in enemy territory."

"What has that to do with John and his unit?"

"They were approached with a special mission. It meant
cutting their tour."

Jenny gasped. She remembered John saying he hoped to get an
early discharge, but she never understood what he meant. She wondered if all
her letters about missing him and loving him so much made him vulnerable to the
mission Gideon offered.

"How could you?" Jenny asked glaring at Gideon.

"They knew the risk."

"Did any of them make it back?" Jenny asked, but
when Gideon did not answer, she turned on him and yelled. "Why?"

"An early end to the war."

"Crap!" Jenny slammed her fist on the table and
Gideon jumped, and then she continued. "They were already at the peace
table, how could your mission bring an earlier end?"

"We wanted proof that the Russians were arming the Viet
Cong. Pictures of arms depots and stuff like that."

"Did you get it?" Jenny asked.

"No."

"How many of the men returned alive?" Jenny asked.

"Only myself," then Gideon quickly added.
"Delaney and Jimmy made it out, but they sold their souls to the devil to
do it."

"How did John die?"

"I don't know if I can," Gideon whispered.

"I have to know," Jenny challenged.

"Jenny, John survived five months of intense fighting. He
had some tough missions and he managed to keep the casualties lower than most
units that saw heavy action. What can I say?"

"Tell me why he was singled out for this great
opportunity of yours?"

Gideon shook his head. "John had a sixth sense. He knew
who belonged in the villages and who didn't." Gideon stared up at Jenny
with a peculiar sort of laugh that came from down deep.

"Keep going, I want to know it all." It scared her
thinking Gideon's offer for an early discharge was the reason for all of this.

"It was on that last mission, we were in the bush for two
weeks, deep in enemy territory." Gideon hesitated, but then quickly
continued, "We passed through a village near the edge of some mountains we
had to cross. There were old women and young children with the elder working in
the field. It was eerie coming out of the jungle and having to cross the
village before we could reach the cover of mountain terrain again. You felt
like someone was watching all the time. It was enough to make the hair on the
back of your neck stand on end." Gideon stared at Jenny. When he saw that
Jenny did not grasp what he said, he quickly added. "You had to be over
there to understand."

Gideon had a strange look on his face when he spoke those
words. Jenny understood all too well. She remembered the letters Paddy wrote.
He hated the people, the country, and worst of all the war he did not believe
in. His letters were in stark contrast to John's and Jenny realized now John
purposely kept his fears from her.

Gideon did not notice Jenny get up for more coffee. He was in
a trancelike state. Once the memories started he could not shut them off.

"As we passed the elder, John bowed his head in respect.
You could feel something was wrong, but all you could do was wait until the
first round was fired so you knew who the enemy was."

It scared Jenny thinking John's love for her caused him to
make a decision that in the end cost him his life. Jenny sat down at the table
and stared at Gideon.

"As we passed, I noticed a young Vietnamese boy about
fourteen working the fields. I just thought he was the old man's grandson. John
walked up to the lad, took his hands, and bowed his head. John was different in
that way, I just figured he was paying respect to the young lad as he did when
he passed the elder."

Gideon was rocking on the chair. His hands were twisting
around the cup on the table. He looked at the window for the longest time and
then turned back to Jenny.

"After we marched down the narrow path, John whispered
back to keep an eye on the boy. His men knew what he meant. We were about
fifteen yards from the group, then without warning the boy pulled a gun free
from his loose pants. He lay dead in the rice field before he got off a round.
The women and children just stood watching. No one moved for fear we would
shoot them too. The elder that John had bowed to earlier said something to John
in Vietnamese. I don't know if John knew what he said. John just turned, and we
walked up the mountain without another incident."

"Please stop," Jenny whispered. She did not want
Gideon to go on for fear of what else he would say.

Gideon ignored her request and continued. "Later I asked
John how he knew." Gideon looked up at Jenny. "You know what he said?"

"What?" she asked, knowing he would continue anyway.
There was no stopping Gideon now.

"He told me they had been through the village a few other
times and there were always women and children working in the fields with the
elder. When he took hold of the boy's hands, he could tell he hadn't worked the
land because his hands were too soft." Gideon paused for a moment and
glanced at Jenny.

She did not say a word. A chill ran through her as she
remembered the first time John had met her father. His comment at the time now
made sense. He had told her later her father had the hands of an honest
workingman, one who worked the land.

"You were all he talked about." Gideon got up and
took his mug to the sink, and then rinsed it. He glanced up at the clock on the
wall, but it was not time he was looking at, but searching for the right words.

"I'm sure there must have been other things you talked
about."

"I was jealous of him. You were married for such a short
time, yet your love for one another was so deep and enduring." Gideon
paused and held onto the counter before continuing. "Listening to him talk
about you, I found myself envying him. He had you to come home to. There was no
one for me. I didn't even know what you looked like."

Gideon ran his hand through his hair. It was the first time
his temple did not throb. "We were captured soon after that and held for
almost a month. Every night I listened to John, the noise of the mat being
shoved aside, and then it sounded like a plank being yanked up. For a while I thought
the Lieutenant was digging a tunnel. It was the same noise night after night.
Once he pulled up the plank, there was silence." Gideon paused for a
moment, took a deep breath, then walked back to the table and sat down.

"Gideon, please stop," Jenny said.

"No. You have a right to know."

"It's not important."

Gideon did not listen, he just continued. "It was two
nights before they killed him. He was in the sweatbox. When the guards were
finally asleep, I crept into his cell thinking I would find a tunnel. All I
wanted was to escape the torture, but what I found was the picture of the
sketch that hung in your apartment. I took it, Jenny," Gideon said, and
then paused and looked up at her. For him a great burden had been lifted.

Gideon took out his wallet, flipping through the pictures
quickly and then he handed it to Jenny. It was the picture John had taken of
her sketch.

Jenny just stared up at Gideon, realizing now the reason for
the way he looked at her the past week. She did not know what to say. It was an
odd feeling knowing a stranger was carrying a picture around that once belonged
to her husband. Almost the same feeling she had the day she found out Delaney
had been using John's identity for years. Jenny wondered what else she did not
know about Gideon.

"Why would you carry it around?" she asked.

Gideon slowly raised his head. "Maybe because I wanted to
pretend I was going home to you."