Thanks so much to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. My hope is to get this story up and posted and completed by Saturday.

Chapter 2

By the end of the agreed upon year, his mind was made up and there was no changing it. He was joining the army. He'd spent all year training with his father and uncles and studying. I thought perhaps that he'd give up on it once he saw how enjoyable college life could be, but he had very little interest in partying, even when he father and I gave our blessing for him to drink despite not being of age.

Instead, Elias grew obsessed with the news. Every time we turned on the TV or opened the paper there was a new disaster happening somewhere in the world. He wanted to help. He'd convinced Carlos to assign him to active duty to satisfy his urges for action. He'd been present on jobs prior to this, of course, but now he was tracking down criminals on his own (if you don't count his partner). I was pleased to see, though, that he erred more on my side than Carlos's when it came to skip tracing, striving to prove people's innocence where possible and using force only when necessary.

But my year's grace was up and he'd gone off and joined the army. No amount of reassurances from Carlos or any of the men – nor even Chelsea's calculated words of confidence in her older brother – could have prepped me enough for the moment he walked out that door for basic training.

"He'll be fine," Carlos told me firmly, one arm wrapped around my waist as we watched the space where his car had disappeared out of the neighbourhood.

"He's doing what's best for him," Chelsea confirmed with a nod rom beside me.

I glanced down at her. Despite their bickering, Chelsea and Elias had always been quite close, sharing secrets and discussing, earnestly, things they wouldn't bring up with me or their father, or anyone else. It seemed off to me, given their age difference. Especially given the fact that Val and I, who were relatively close in age, had never been anywhere near that close. Far be it from me to break the bond that they had made.

"You really think so?" I asked her.

She nodded. "He needs to help people."

"He can help people right here at home," I reminded her.

My eldest daughter, wise beyond her thirteen years, looked me dead in the eye and said the one thing that could have convinced me to let my baby boy go. "Do you really wanna be just like Grandma and cut his wings?"

She was absolutely right. I'd resented my mother for imposing her views on my life and squashing my dreams. I didn't want to cause that kind of relationship strain with my own kids. I wanted them to enjoy coming to visit once they eventually moved out. I wanted them to want to come back. My worst nightmare was that I would turn into my own mother, and apparently at some point Chelsea must have overheard one of my many conversations with Carlos on the topic.

A high pitched squeal emitted from somewhere inside the house, followed immediately by the kind of laughter that always put me on edge. Whatever Sophie and Frankie were up to was not something I was rushing to get in the middle of.

"Time to go back in," Carlos sighed, turning to do just that.

"I'll be in in a minute," I replied, gazing down the streed once more.

"He'll be fine, Mom," Chelsea assured me, but she didn't leave my side. It was peaceful there, on the porch in the morning sun. With each moment that passed my anxiety at Elias's leaving shrunk, until it was almost small enough for my to swallow without gagging.

And then the peace was shattered.

Sophie burst out of the screen door, Nerf gun in hand, firing back into the house at her brother. "You're gonna die you little turd!" she cried, firing a volley of foam darts through the front hall. "Mom, can I have El's room now that he doesn't need it anymore?"

"What?!" I exclaimed, taken completely off guard. "No! He still needs it!"

"But he's staying at the barracks," she argued, slamming the screen door shut in Frankie's face.

"How would you feel if you went on school camp and while you were gone Frankie took your room?" I countered.

I had her attention now. Well, almost. She crossed her arms over her chest, staring at me like I'd just told her chocolate was made from spinach. But she was also leaning her full weight against the dor to prevent Frankie getting out. "But camp is, like, a week. Elias might never come back!"

"Sophie Abigail Manoso, can't you see your mother is already struggling with Elias leaving? Have some compassion!" Chelsea raged at her sister. "Just go inside and let Frankie shoot you!"

Sophie stomped her foot. "You're not my mother!" she retorted. "You're not the boss of me! You can't make me do anything!"

Carlos's voice came from just behind her before anyone could say another word, quiet and commanding. She jumped a foot in the air. "In," he ordered. And just in case she didn't understand the time frame he expected, added, "Now."

*o*

Predictably, Elias made it through basic training and his first years of full service with hardly a problem at all. In fact, he was first in his class. All that training with his uncles had clearly paid off. He was sent on short tours here and there, mostly just aid assignments. Nothing was ever as major as the secret government missions Carlos used to do. I could handle all of this, especially since he was in touch at least once a month to let me know that he was still alive and well.

Everything was running smoothly, despite my initial reservations. He seemed genuinely happy to be serving his country and following in his father's and uncle's footsteps.

Then came the phone call I'd been dreading since the moment he got in his car and drove off two years ago.

"Hey Mom," he greeted. It was the same way he started every conversation, but there was something n his tone that had my spidey senses tingling. Something was wrong.

"What's wrong?" I demanded, standing from my desk and hurrying down the hall to Carlos's office. "What's happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Mom," he assured me was I reached my husband's closed door and barged straight in regardless of what kind of business he was currently conducting within. "Are you with Dad right now?"

Carlos's eyes snapped to mine the second I stepped inside, ignoring the offended looks on the clients faces. "Babe?"

"Elias," I said by way of explanation. And in the next moment, the clients were being ushered out with profuse apologies, vague mentions of a son and a forceful knock on Tank's office door.

"Did Dad just blow off clients because you barged in and said my name?" Eliad asked, sounding amused.

"Of course he did," I snapped. "You're important."

"I've got the power!" he sang.

Rather than respond to that, I hit speaker and set the phone down on the desk. I might have sat down at that point, if I weren't so on edge. As it was, the only thing that kept me from pacing back and forth in the space between the freshly vacated visitor's chairs and the desk was Carlos's arms wrapping around me from behind, holding me in place.

"What's going on?" Carlos asked as I gripped his hand tightly.

"You don't need to clear your schedule just for my phone call, Dad," Elias's voice emitted from the phone.

"The look on your mother's face says otherwise," he replied efficiently. "Now tell me what's going on."

"It's nothing to worry about," Elias assured us. Which, of course, made me start worrying harder.

"Whatever it is, just say it before your mother breaks my hand," Carlos instructed. I attempted to loosen my grip, but I couldn't seem to get my fingers to work. Carlos used his thumbs to gently stroke my knuckles reassuringly.

"Mom's not strong enough to break your hand," Elias laughed, "She struggles to open pickle jars."

"You wanna stake your life on that statement?" Carlos responded.

"Just tell me what's wrong!" I burst out. I couldn't believe Carlos was joking around when I was ready to jump clear out of my skin. There was a time when I would have dropped into a dead faint at the mere thought of Carlos trading humorous comments or delaying the delivery of important facts. He'd mellowed in the last twenty years. Raising children was a learning curve for both of us, but over the years he'd learned that the voice and mannerisms he used at work and in his previous life generally didn't work on the kids. Then again, it helped that he got to practice on them while they were still babies.

"Okay," Elias sighed. "But promise you won't freak out."

"It's a little late for that, son," Carlos pointed out.

"Right," he agreed. "Well here goes, then. Mom, Dad, I've received orders for a – um – Christ, how do I phrase this?"

I could hardly breathe. My mind was awash with all the possible ending to that sentence. "I swear to God," I managed to gasp out. "If the next words out of your mouth are secret, government or mission, I will kill you before anyone else ever has a chance."

"Uhhh…."

"Babe, if he was being sent on a secret government mission I would have been notified."

"Well," Elias hedged.

The next moment was a blur. I spun around to face Carlos, eyes wide as I contemplated what my son could have been ordered to do, what his muttered 'well' could mean. Had he been ordered on a secret government mission? If so, why hadn't Carlos been informed? Was it something worse? My head spun, a wave of dizziness washing over me. Before I could lose my balance and fall, though, Carlos had snatched up both me and the phone and carted us over to the leather couch on the other side of the room.

"Tell me exactly what your orders are," he commanded in the tone he reserves for his men, not his children.

I waited for a reply, but none came. Glancing up at Carlos, I saw that he had taken the phone off speaker and was now talking to our son semi-privately. "Your mother's not going to be happy," he said after a moment. "We both promised that this wouldn't happen." He paused while Elias said something. "Yes. We were both fools to thing that we had the power to prevent it."

"Let me speak to him," I requested.

Wordlessly, Carlos handed over the pone, aware of the consequences I would deliver if he didn't.

"Elias James Manoso," I stated as calmly as I could manage with my heart breaking. "If you're being shipped off to some third world country to fight someone else's war, you need to make me a new promise."

"Anything," he confirmed. His father had taught him well.

"Every opportunity you get to make contact, you take it," I instructed. "For me and my peace of mind, but also for your siblings. We all worry about you."

"I know, Mom," he sighed. "I'm sorry I couldn't keep my first promise, but I'll make sure to keep this one."

"The first one was out of any of our control," I assured him. "I never thought that even your father could do anything to stop it if that what the government wanted. I'd hoped, but these things are out of our control. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

"Take care of yourself and your team," I told him, trying to sound strong despite the fact that I was on the verge of tears. "I don't want any other mother's to have their sons come home in body bags either."

"I'll do my best," he promised. A voice in the background stole his attention for a moment and then he was rushing off. "I've gotta go, Mom. Tell everyone I love them."

I want to say that when he hung up I took a deep, cleansing breath and got on with my day like a normal person, that I didn't break down and blubber into Carlos's chest, but it would be a lie if I did. We sat there on the sofa, me crying like I'd already been told Elias was dead, and Carlos murmuring comforting, but incomprehensible, words in Spanish. Eventually, my tears dried up, but neither of us moved for the longest time.

Until there was a light tap on the door.

"Enter," Carlos called, his voice rumbling through his chest and vibrating against my cheek.

Lester stepped inside, followed by Bobby and Tank, identical concerned expressions rumpling their features.

Tank was the first to speak. "We sent Hal and Ca to pick up the kids," he announced.

Lester was far less patient. He needed answers as much as I had. "What's Elias up to?"

"Tell me it's not a mission," Bobby added.

And that was all it took for me to dissolve once more, leaving Carlos to explain. The guys weren't at all happy – "He's too young!" "Brandon gave us his word!" "That asshat!" – but were quick to assure me that he could take care of himself and that there was no way he wouldn't make it back in one piece.

Then Chelsea, Sophie and Frankie were there and we had to tell them. I handled that a little better probably because Frankie and Sophie didn't really understand the significance of the events, and I could tell how worried Chelsea was at the mere mention of the mission. She'd heard enough stories to know how dire the situation was. Sophie never really shut up long enough to listen to those stories. And Frankie, well, he was still just a baby. Not even eight yet. No one wanted to corrupt his beautiful little mind.

*o*

Three weeks later I received an email from an unknown address, but I knew the second I saw it who it was from. I opened it immediately, my eyes skipping across the words before finally starting at the top and savouring every letter like it was the last morsel of food I would ever consume.

Mom,

Everything's fine. Moving along right on track. Don't worry.

I've had a lot of time to think lately, about my life, your life, Dad's life, I'm pretty sure if Dad hadn't done the whole risking his life thing, he never would have met you, and ten I would have been born to some asshole and a drug addict. I'm so grateful to have you both as my parents. You're what I'm fighting for.

Love,

Ellie

P.S. Don't let Dad read the mushy crap I wrote.

It was the first of many emails that wold come over the following months, each one from a new email address and assuring me that he was fine and was looking after the rest of his team. There were never any details about what was going on, which was to be expected. After all these years I still knew the drill. I just never thought I'd be put through it all over again once Carlos finally retired. I doubted he would check back to the previous email address for a reply, but I wrote back every single time, none the less.

Ellie,

I know I've told you this more times than either of us could possibly count, but you are turning into such a great man. You're brave, just like your father. I'm so lucking to call your my son. We're all eagerly awaiting the day you return home to us.

Love,

Mom.

Two more chapters to go.