Janet Evanovich owns the rights to the following characters: Ranger *sigh* and Stephanie. Colonel Davidson is mine.
A Walk Through Hell
Chapter 7: Allies
I watch as Colonel Davidson stares into the empty doorway that Stephanie had just walked out of; a bemused expression on his face.
It would seem that between Johnny and the Colonel, the Honolulu chapter of the Stephanie Plum fan club has been inaugurated.
"You know, if I were ten years younger you'd have some competition on your hands." The Colonel muses dreamily, still staring at the doorway.
I chuckle, shaking my head. Stephanie had spent the last hour charming the poor man. He never had a chance. "Trust me, I've got about as much competition as I can handle."
The Colonel waves his hand dismissively, "There's no competition son, that girl lives and breathes for you. Anybody can see that. It's a shame too… this old boy may have been able to teach her a thing or two." The Colonel teases good naturedly.
I tip my head back and laugh. Only my Babe could capture the heart of a complete stranger in minutes.
The Colonel's face sobers, "How are your men recovering?"
My heart clenches painfully at the reminder of our loss. Eighteen men would never recover. Eighteen families destroyed. Eighteen reasons for vengeance.
I clear my throat before speaking, "All are expected to make a full recovery," The knowledge of their survival providing me with some small sense of comfort.
A moment of silence passes between us, each lost in our own thoughts.
"Are you gonna tell me what's on your mind soldier?" The Colonel asks, his piercing eyes studying my face.
I hesitate, the years of training to protect our secrets showing themselves.
"Listen, you look like you've seen a ghost. I was there, I've seen the reports. You won't be telling me anything that I don't already know. Being captured and held as a prisoner of war is bound to leave some emotional scars. It might do you some good to get it off your chest."
I look at the Colonel, realizing how much I have resting on my shoulders, gnawing at my subconscious. Maybe discussing my suspicions will help to alleviate some of the stress, to lessen the sting of betrayal. I do something that I haven't done in years.
I open up; my thoughts and feelings pouring from me.
"It's not the fact that we were captured or detained, it's HOW it all went down that haunts me." I stall, not even wanting to speak my accusations out loud.
"What exactly are you implying?" The Colonel's face is impassive, but his eyes are raging with emotion.
The flood gates within me open.
"The mission Sir, it was an absolute cluster fuck. They were waiting to ambush us, started firing before we could be distinguished as allies or hostiles. They were firing from the fucking trenches! We had no identifiable markers on our persons or on the watercraft; and yet they attacked full force, like we were waving the American flag in the air!"
"It was too perfect, too precise. If some random patrol group had stumbled upon us there would have been a commotion; Commands being called out, soldiers scrambling into formation… and yet there was nothing, just…silence. Half of my men were dead before they could chamber a round in their gun."
"Some fucking treasonous turn coat sold us out; our location, our objective… our lives. There is no other explanation. God knows, I've tried to find one. I've wanted to find one, but the fact remains that we were sabotaged by an internal traitor."
The color slowly drains from the Colonel's face.
"Assuming you are correct, what course of action will you take to find this individual?"
"I have exhausted all of my personal leads, but I have the money and the resources to 'encourage' cooperation. The official documentation for the mission was mysteriously misplaced. I've got a man on the inside, working to recover those records."
The Colonel's eyes widen. "To have access to those records one would need a high level of security clearance… if this person is caught…"
"They are aware of the repercussions."
The Colonel's eyes shift nervously, an internal struggle being fought. "Christ… I'll help you. I have the security clearance and since I was the commanding officer on the rescue mission it will not appear suspicious; keep both of our heads out of the guillotine. However, I work alone. I don't know your contact and I don't want to worry about someone rolling over on me. If this person is caught sniffing around without the proper reasoning they will become a target… and so will you."
I was shocked into silence. The Colonel could covertly dig deeper than anyone. He had the cover and was privy to the information. "I can't ask you to do that Sir, there is too much at stake."
"Nonsense, I can make my own decisions Major. There is only one stipulation for my help. You will under no circumstances conceal information from me; if you have a lead I will follow it. I don't want anyone coming in guns a' blazing and exposing us all. Understood?"
I nod in agreement.
"Good. I will contact you through a secure line as soon as I have any information, I expect you to do the same. Oh, and Major… this conversation never happened."
I smile wryly, "What conversation Sir?" I extend my hand to shake with the Colonel; my eyes conveying the overwhelming gratitude that I feel.
The hunt is on.
It's time to flush out the rat.
The last two weeks of my recovery were painstakingly slow. My ribs had healed quickly, and much to the relief of my doctor, the skin grafts on my feet were successful and healing in record time. As the nerve endings regenerated in the soles of my feet, the pins and needles sensation was maddening. Thankfully, after a week that sensation began to slowly fade away.
I began to walk again, all be it in the beginning very gingerly. It felt as though I was walking over broken shards of glass. Stephanie fell off of her chair laughing when she dubbed me "Chief Tender foot" for my awkward gimp. When I asked "American Curly Horse" what was so funny, she quickly sobered. The nickname was never repeated. Thank God.
Stephanie has been an amazing source of strength and comfort to me throughout the entire process. We relished in each other's company, both very aware of how close we came to losing it all. We spoke words of love and comfort to each other often. Enjoying the time together, however we never spoke of our plans for the future. The thought of things returning to the way they were left me feeling hollow.
My release from the hospital is scheduled for tomorrow morning; which leads me to my current state of distress.
I sit watching Stephanie collect her personal belongings from around my hospital room; her hair brush, slippers, and lip gloss. I watch as she sifts through the items on my night stand; separating them into two piles, mine and hers. This small action, though menial feels very significant. I have grown accustom to sharing this small space with her; enjoying having our lives and our belongings closely interwoven.
I try to resist the urge to remove the items from her hands and place them back where they belong, but before I can stop myself; my hand reaches out to grab her wrist, stopping her progress. She pauses, looking at me curiously.
"Babe… don't do that… please," I whisper, immediately embarrassed by my actions.
"Do what Ranger? I'm just packing up to go home tomorrow…" she asks, confused by my words.
God, I'm such an idiot. What do I say now? I like having our toothbrushes on the counter next to each other? It makes me happy to see your heels next to my boots? Panic sets in and I am at a loss for words.
"Ranger… what's wrong?" She cups my face gently, staring intently into my eyes.
"Watching you divide our things feels like watching you separate yourself from my life. I've wanted this… wanted you for so long. The past few weeks have felt so right, you fit seamlessly into my life; filling a void that only you can fill. I don't want things to go back to the way they were… "
"In my darkest hour I promised myself that someday we could make a life together. That thought alone gave me the will to survive. I want that someday with you now. I love you, I have always loved you and I will love you every day for the rest of my life. Take a chance on me Babe… take a chance on us."
She only nodded, a stray tear streaming down her cheek. I held her to me tightly, kissing the top of her head.
In that moment I held my future in my arms and tomorrow would be a new beginning.
TBC….
Thoughts?
