Authors: R. E. Bradshaw
“Considering all that’s been happening, Ms. Bell, would you mind telling me my dog’s name?”
He wanted the failsafe code. If she said anything other than the arranged name, he would pull his weapon immediately. She made it easy for the guards to remember. Smiling up at Reese, she asked, “How is old Buddy?”
“He’s just fine,” Reese responded. “Have a good evening, Ms. Bell.”
Reese stepped back to the guardhouse and opened the gate. As they drove through, the colonel glanced over at Rainey, but he did not comment on the security measures. At least, not until they pulled into her driveway. She told him to stop, exited the car, and approached the security panel. The colonel rolled his window down, watching her access her home. When the gate began to slide open, Rainey motioned him to go through, but he just sat there. Rainey approached his window.
“Colonel?”
“You’ve looked into the eyes of the devil, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir, and I intend to see him coming next time.”
“These security precautions imply you believe there will be a next time,” he said, beginning to roll the car up the driveway slowly.
Rainey walked beside the car, continuing the conversation. “Katie may talk of not living in fear, but the only reason that is possible is because of the net I’ve thrown around our family. Yes, I believe there will be a next time and a next. As long as these freaks find me fascinating, I’ll be a target, as will the people I care about. Some people think I’m paranoid. My history and recent events suggest otherwise.”
The colonel smiled up at her. “Haec protegimus,” he said, bringing the car to a stop where Rainey indicated he should park.
Rainey laughed. “Yes, sir. ‘This we’ll defend.’ My father was an Army man, too.”
Colonel Patrick Asher had done his homework on Rainey. He stepped out of his car and rattled off, “Master Sergeant William Bell, Special Forces, Vietnam, ‘70 to ’75, Purple Heart, Silver Star. A hell of a soldier raised a hell of a daughter.”
“Hooah, Colonel.”
Rainey remembered the Army affirmative slang, as opposed to the Marines’ “Oorah.” Her father told her it stood for “Heard, Understood, Acknowledged,” or anything but “No.” The colonel’s smile told her she got it right.
She returned a broad smile and gestured toward the front door. “Welcome to our home.”
Katie met them at the door.
“Welcome, Colonel Asher,” she said, and then stood on her tiptoes to kiss Rainey on the cheek. “After you put your weapons away, Rainey, Mack has something to show you.”
“Thank you for having me,” Colonel Asher said, though it was not really his choice.
He gave Rainey a quizzical look over the weapons comment. Rainey pointed at a brass sign on the foyer table, which read, “All weapons must be checked at the door.” He took out his pistol, dropped the clip, and cleared the chamber, before handing it over to Rainey. Katie, who was nearly bouncing with excitement, grabbed Rainey’s hand as soon as she closed the gun safe, pulling her toward the den, with the colonel following.
When Rainey reached the top of the two steps down into the den, she could see the grandmothers standing, watching the triplets. Gunny was sitting on the couch and everyone was grinning from ear to ear. Weather, Timothy, and Mack were hanging on to the coffee table, balanced on wobbly legs. Their heads turned simultaneously, as their mothers entered the room.
Katie opened the baby gate and stepped down into the den. “Come on,” she said, urging Rainey to hurry. She dropped to her knees at the bottom of the steps and smiled at the triplets.
Rainey followed Katie down to the floor, anticipating what she thought would happen next. She smiled at her children. Mack turned toward her and dropped his grip from the table. Rainey held out her hands, encouraging him. “Come on, Mack. Walk over here.”
Mack was the largest of the triplets, thick and strong. He had been flirting with his first steps for a few weeks. His face broke into a wide smile, as he threw his right foot out in front of him, and then he toddled over into her arms, his momentum flinging him into Rainey’s chest, while he giggled with delight.
“Well, look at you, big guy,” Rainey said, laughing.
Weather let go of the table and tried to follow Mack, but only made it a few steps before toppling over and crawling the rest of the way. Timothy held on the longest, choosing to drop to his diaper-cushioned butt, before following his siblings into Rainey’s lap. All the adults were laughing and clapping, while Rainey squeezed her children into a hug that ended with her rolling in the floor with giggling babies crawling over her. If only she could freeze these moments, keep the world out and simply love her family. Awash in baby giggles and “Nee nee nees,” Rainey could not imagine life without the family she never thought she would have.
Katie kissed her on the forehead, and stood up. “Play with the kids while I put dinner on the table. Then you can go off to your office to plot and plan.”
Rainey watched her walk away, still unable to believe Katie was hers, these children were hers, and this was their home, their lives. She looked up at the colonel and was reminded that the other shoe could always drop. He stood there smiling at her children, but there was sadness in his eyes. He no doubt was remembering his own little girl’s first steps.
From her position flat on her back, with a baby on her chest and the other two trying to pile on, Rainey made the introductions. “Colonel Patrick Asher, this is my mother, Constance Herndon.”
Constance stepped forward, extending her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Colonel. I am so sorry about your daughter.”
Rainey indicated the older version of Katie. “And this is Katie’s mother, Melanie Meyers.”
Melanie stepped forward to shake the colonel’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Colonel. I, too, am sorry to hear about your daughter. You’ve come to the right woman for help. Rainey saved my Katie. I will always be grateful for that.”
Gunny stepped forward. Rainey nodded in her direction. “Colonel, this is retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant Naomi Pierce.”
Gunny shook the colonel’s hand with a strong grip. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” she said. “Just call me Gunny.”
“The pleasure is mine, ladies,” the colonel said.
Rainey sat up, holding out Weather to the colonel. She did not know anyone that could be sad while holding the little strawberry blonde with green eyes. Rainey’s daughter was a charmer and she knew it.
“Here, hold her a sec, while I wrangle these two brutes,” she said with a grin.
The colonel looked shocked at first, and then took Weather into his arms. He smiled at her and she smiled back. Weather seemed to be searching his eyes, as she touched his face, and then nuzzled under his chin. Yes, Rainey’s girl was a charmer and she melted the sad man’s heart.
“Isn’t she the sweetest thing,” Melanie said.
Constance chuckled. “She’s just like Rainey was, very in tune with people. She always seemed to know what people were feeling, even as a baby.”
The colonel patted Weather’s back, hugging her to him. “What’s your name little one?” He asked, as Weather leaned back and tried to stick her fingers in his mouth, studying his face.
Rainey remained in the floor, a giggling baby boy under each arm, and introduced her children. “That’s Weather, and this is Mack and Timothy.”
The colonel looked over at Rainey. “You have a beautiful family.”
“Thank you, Colonel. We got a late start and there were all these bedrooms, so we had them all at once.”
The colonel handed Weather back to Rainey. “Spend some time with your children. It passes so quickly. I need to talk to my wife. I’ll step into the hall.”
“Come with me, Colonel. I’ll show you where you can have some privacy,” Melanie offered, escorting the colonel out of the room.
Weather wriggled out of Rainey’s arms to stand in front of her, using Nee Nee’s chest for balance, while babbling a series of sounds. Mack hung off Rainey’s right shoulder bobbing up and down, doing a dance to his own drummer, and occasionally jabbering back at his sister. Timothy knelt on her left, completely engrossed in one of Rainey’s pants pockets. While her children used her for an activity center, Rainey turned her attention to Gunny.
“I understand you were not happy about your weapon being seized.”
“No ma’am, I was not,” Gunny responded, with more than a hint of military in her tone. “As I explained to the officers, the warrant was for your weapons, not mine. I also explained that I was on protection detail.”
“A legitimate argument,” Rainey commented, waiting for the rest.
“Your lawyer told me the warrant read all firearms on the premises, including the garage, so I was not given much choice in the matter. Your wife then subjected me to an interrogation, as to why my weapon was out of the safe. I regret to inform you that you are in deep shit, boss.” She quickly added, “Sorry, deep guano.”
Rainey smiled at her. “We’re going to have to work on your weapon- hiding skills.”
“Oorah, boss. And may I add, I can see why you don’t like to cross her.”
“Hands on her hips, huh?” Rainey asked, able to imagine exactly what Katie looked like when she questioned Gunny, and fully expecting to see it herself again, very soon.
“When she gets going, you can’t get a word in there, can you?”
Rainey chuckled. “No, you really can’t.”
Gunny winced in pain and her hand shot to her temple.
“Are you all right?” Rainey asked.
“Just a headache. If you don’t mind, while you’re here, I’m going to lie down for a bit.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? I could call Junior, so you can go home,” Rainey suggested.
“No, no, he’s with Mackie. I’ll be fine. I just need to close my eyes for a minute or two,” Gunny said, still rubbing her temple.
“Really, if you need to go home, I can find someone else to stay here.”
Gunny hated her disability, and that’s what these headaches were. They ended her military career, the only life she had known since the age of eighteen. Rainey saw flashes of brain injury behavior, moodiness, irritability, but Gunny tried to maintain an even keel. She disliked having someone ask her if she needed to rest. Gunny prided herself in showing no weakness. Rainey should have remembered that.
Gunny’s reply had an edge to it. “If you don’t think I can take care of your family, then maybe you should call someone else.” As soon as it was out of her mouth, she apologized. “I’m sorry. I just need a few minutes.”
“No problem. Go rest. I’ll tell Katie to save you some dinner.”
After politely excusing herself, Gunny left the room, leaving Rainey alone with her mother and the triplets. She was trying to extricate her tightly clasped breast from one of Weather’s tiny hands without losing skin, when Constance started speaking.
“Are you all right, Rainey? You seem rather calm in midst of the current tempest surrounding you.”
Prying Weather’s little fingers from her shirt, Rainey said, “I think I may be mellowing with age.”
Constance chuckled, and took a seat on the end of the couch near Rainey and the children. “You, mellow? That would be a first. Beware the raging current beneath the smooth surface, I’d say.”
Rainey grinned at her mother. “That’s your tax dollars at work. They train us well at Quantico. Emotional involvement precludes brain function.”
“You know, when you grin like that, you look just like your father. I’m not sure you have a single strand of my DNA.”
Rainey’s smile grew. “Dad always said I reminded him of you when I was mad.”
Katie’s mother stuck her head around the corner. “Food’s on the table.”
Rainey handed Weather to her mother, stood, and took a boy into each arm, thinking she had gotten away with that shot across the bow.
Her mother, following closely behind her to the dining room, was not about to let that pass. After all, it was at the knees of Constance and her grandmother, Martha Lee, where Rainey learned the art of retort.
Constance said softly, “Well played, Caroline.”
“Touché, Connie,” Rainey said, smiling over her shoulder.
“Billy Bell, as I live and breathe,” her mother said, sighing.
They both started laughing and headed into family dinner. Like resigning from the FBI, falling in love with Katie, and becoming a parent, sitting down to dinner with Constance and being happy about it was something Rainey never imagined. She smiled, hugging the boys closer. Yes, she was a swirl of raging currents underneath, but for these precious moments, Rainey was determined to float peacefully on the surface with her family.
#
“This is going to be good.”
Those were his parting words to Bladen. He left her suspended from the picquet, one wrist attached to a bar above her head, her opposite foot on a blunted stake on the floor. It was blunted, but sharp enough to cause severe pain if she tried to relieve the strain on her wrist. He told her this form of punishment was used on soldiers in medieval Europe. It would not kill her, unless he left her there for days. He knew this because he had done it to one of his first conquests, as he called them. Bladen was being disciplined for kicking him in the ribs when he unbuckled her leg from the rack. She did not care at that point if the kick made him angry. She had decided she was going to take one good shot at this guy before he killed her. She saw her chance and took it. Instead of anger, he was pleased that she still had some fight left in her, after the torture he just administered.
He laughed at her, even though she was sure she hurt him. “I guess you didn’t like that last little ass fuck. Maybe another session with the Pear will make it easier for you.”
Bladen screamed in rage and tried to kick him again, but this time he jumped out of the way. His fist to her jaw was the quick response. While she was still dazed from the blow, he removed her from the rack, dragging her by her hair to the picquet.
“I see some discipline is in order while I’m out. I’d love to stay and see to your correction personally, but this will have to do until I get back. I don’t want to miss the show,” he said, as he pulled the rope tight around her wrist.