I'd just like to remind everyone that everything I know about the military I either learned from TV or I made up on the spot, so if there are inaccuracies in my story, please just pretend along with me or correct them in your head.
Chapter 3
Late in December, just a week before Christmas, I awoke in the dark with a start. My breathing was heavy, hands trembling and there was a weight in the pit of my stomach the likes of which I'd never known. To quote Miss Clavel from the cartoon Madeline, something was not right.
Carlos's warm hand touched my arm. "Babe?" he questioned, obvious concern in his voice.
"Elias," I whispered in reply. It was the only concrete thought in my mind. I reached blindly for my phone on the night stand and opened my email inbox. There were twenty seven unread emails, but only one from an unknown address as was Elias's custom. It brought no relief though. In fact, if anything, it only caused the tension gripping my entire body to wind tighter still.
That's when Carlos's phone rang.
In the dim light of both our phone screens, I watched as he checked the read out, his blank face slamming down just before he hit the button to receive the call.
My stomach dropped into my feet. My heart was beating so hard I thought it would burst through my chest at any given moment. Nausea roiled through my guts.
I clicked on the email and started reading.
Dear Mrs. Manoso,
I wanted to stop right there, to deny whatever the rest of the email would say, but I couldn't. I had to keep going. Sucking in a deep breath, I glanced briefly at my husband who appeared to be in a serious conversation, but facing away from me and talking so softly that I couldn't hear a word he was saying, nor could I read his expression. Slowly, I exhaled and returned my attention to the words dancing across the small screen in my shaking hands. I had to focus hard to make them out through the tears starting to gather in my eyes.
Dear Mrs. Manoso,
I don't know how to say this other than to explain exactly the way things are.
My name is Phineas Elridge and I was assigned to your son Elias's team for the mission we were both deployed on. Over the past dew months we have come to rely on each other and the others in our group, sharing the hardships and successes that come our way. We've turned into something of a family over here, Mrs. Manoso, and it's all thanks to your son.
Elias insisted from the get go that if we all wanted to make it out of this hell hole alive that we had to stick together and support one another, because God knows there's nobody else in this God forsaken land we can trust. Because of him we've overcome differences that would have been the death of us if it had happened in any other squad.
I ow Elias my life."
I had to pause there as the tears blocked out my vision, and when I'd wiped my eyes and glanced over to where Carlos had been he wasn't there. I needed to be more aware of my surroundings, but right at that moment what I needed most was for this email to not have the ending I thought it was going to have.
Deciding that delaying it would only make it worse, I forged ahead.
I owe Elias my life.
I was on a hill (which, in hind sight, was probably my first mistake), alone (mistake number two), when shots rang out and bombs started going off all around me. In the next moment I found myself surrounded on all sides by the enemy. The rest of the team was a hundred yards away, and the likelihood that they would be able to hear me over the din of the gunfire was sub-zero, but I called for them to disappear anyway. My fate was pretty much sealed. There was no point in us all getting ourselves killed. Or worse.
But your Elias wouldn't have it. He's been hell bend on keeping us all alive since the moment we all stepped into the briefing room and this was no exception.
He came back for me.
He fought valiantly, fearlessly, and with more determination than I thought possible for one person to contain. He got me free of my bonds and ordered me to run.
I ran. Fast as my legs would take me, but when I glanced over my shoulder to be sure he was following, he wasn't.
A second after he'd released me, he'd gotten himself captured.
I'm so sorry, Mrs. Manoso. I did everything within my power to retrieve him just as he had me, but my efforts were futile. I am, regrettably, unable to get him back as of yet. The team and I are putting every bit of strategy, know-how and ingenuity into planning subsequent attempts, but I felt the need to make good on the pact we made our first night out here.
With the threat of the unknown hanging over our heads, and the new agreement that we had to watch each other's backs, Elias made each of us promise that if anything were to happen to him one of us would write to you to let you knew. It's my understanding that the moment we notify our contact of these events Elias's father will receive a phone call passing the message along as per some mystical agreement, but Elias wanted to make sure that one of us let you know. He said that you'd want to know the he was keeping his promises to you.
Rest assured, Mrs. Manoso, that we will be bringing your son home with us. Alive. Even if it is the last thing I do.
Regretfully yours,
Phineas Elridge.
Gripping the phone tightly, I threw back the covers – how was it that I was still sitting in bed like everything was fine? Like my son wasn't missing in action and my whole world wasn't falling apart? – and staggered to my feet, feeling my way to the ensuit bathroom. Once there, I knelt in front of the toilet and dry heaved for a good half hour before finding the strength to pull myself to my feet once more and splash cold water on my face.
That's how Carlos found me, my head thrust under the stream of water, ignoring the better, icy cold in the hopes that it would freeze my heart and stop my chest from aching even if it was doing nothing to halt my tears.
"Babe," Carlos murmured, pulling me gently from the sink and drying my face and hair with a towel as he guided me to sit on the lid of the toilet.
He's gone," I croaked, blinking up at him. There was a soft halo of light surrounding him. He must have turned the light on in the bedroom.
"He's not gone," Carlos responded, squatting down in front of me so that we were eye to eye. He's just missing right now. His team is working on recovering him as we speak. I doubt that boy Phineas is going to rest until they find him."
"What if they don't?" I questioned, unable to find a bright side to look on. My baby had been taken prisoner in a foreign land by foreign men. There was no telling what kind of torture he was being subjected to.
"I've got Tank putting together a team of our own to send in as back up," Carlos soothed, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. "We'll find him or die trying."
A horrible thought occurred to me then and my eyes shot up to latch on his in the low lighting. "You can't leave me," I informed him. "I just lost my son, you are not leaving me too. I don't care how much of a control freak you are. I don't care if, even at fifty-three years of age, you're still the best in the business. You. Are. Not. Leaving. My. Side."
"I wouldn't dare put you and the kids through that," Carlos said earnestly. "I'll be running this operation from state side."
"Good," I sighed. Relieved. There's no telling the lengths I would have gone to if Carlos had announced that he was off to catch a flight to wherever the fuck our son had been shipped off to.
"I do have to head over to Rangeman and brief the men Tank has assembled, though," he added. "The sooner I get over there, the sooner we'll have our own eyes and ear on the ground."
"I'm coming with you," I said immediately.
Carlos nodded, as though he'd expected I would say such a thing. "I called your parents. They'll be here to look after the kids any minute and then we'll be on the road. Why don't you get dressed and I'll have a travel mug ready for you when you come down stairs."
I nodded slowly, learning forward to press a brief kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I love you," I mumurred, using my his hand to steady myself as I got to my feet.
"I love you, too, Babe," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "We'll get him back. Don't you worry."
At that point in time, telling me not to worry was like telling a gold fish not to swim. It was going to happen no matter what, but with a quick nod and squeeze of his had, I made my way to the walk in wardrobe to pull on the first jeans and sweatshirt I laid my hands on.
Next chapter, coming out tomorrow hopefully, will be the last.
