Beowulf: Explosives Detection Dog (52 page)

“So basically,” Bledsoe said, not an ounce of respect or acceptance in his tone or actions, “you’re here because Big Daddy of Oz said so.”

Lance almost smiled. He knew the men wouldn’t readily accept a new team member. And he could not refuse when the Australians explained the possible technology Bashir could have acquired. “Straider knows the device. He can recognize it. That’s his importance.”

“It’s imperative I retrieve that device. At all costs.”

“As you can imagine,” Lance said, “Bashir with chemical weapons and this pseudomicrowave technology—he could do some serious damage.”

VanAllen whistled. “Turning WMDs from solid to gas … he could poison the air in minutes.”

Straider stood tall, arms folded and exposing a line of dark ink on his upper forearm. “And murder not only the three hundred military and civilian personnel, but what happens when that gas leaks out past the hotel room?” He eyed them each. “Like me or not, we need to stop this man or a lot of people will die tomorrow.”

VanAllen Residence, Leesburg, Virginia

“You and I need to talk.”

Sitting on the back porch with Rika wedged between his feet, Tony rubbed her sides as he met his father’s frown. “Okay.”

“Nah, it’s not okay. It’s pretty messed up.” Dad stood, arms folded over his still-thick chest, looking every bit the drill sergeant he’d once been. Was this a flashback? Awful early in the morning to start an argument. It didn’t feel one, but it sure had the intensity of those moments.

“What’re you doing sitting around here like a boy who got beat up by the school bully?”

Great. Him, too. Tony adjusted his gaze and focused on Rika. Petting her, smoothing her fur did wonders for him when stress unloaded on him. Like right now.

“I thought you liked that girl.”

No way around this fight. “Dad, sometimes things just don’t work out.”

“You mean, sometimes you are a wuss and walk out?”

Heat blazed down Tony’s neck and spine. Getting pinned to the wall by him not too long ago was enough to remind Tony the man still had enough strength to take him down. Knock him down a few notches. Not only that, but he was his father. Tony wanted to respect him. Honor him.

“What happened?”

He smoothed his hand along Rika’s withers, her spine, then her haunches. “Things just changed after … after I lost my leg.”

“You didn’t
lose
it, son. People lose keys, cell phones, rings.” His father pursed his lips and shook his head. “Your leg was ripped from you.”

Tony eyed his father, surprised at this conversation. Combat and war were taboo topics because they were prone to set his father into a tailspin.

“Just like my mind was ripped from me.”

Tony slowed. Didn’t dare look at his father, didn’t dare alert his dad to the fact he was actually talking about the forbidden subjects.

“Don’t think I don’t know what’s happening when it happens. I do, and that’s what kills me …
every time
.” His father ran a hand over his head. “I see it. See you and your mother. But it’s like there’s two of me in there. And I just can’t … find the right one to fight it.”

“Dad, I—”

“Nope.” He held up a hand that had seen combat, killed people, saved his platoon, patted Tony on the back. “Don’t do it. Just listen.”

Reluctantly, Tony nodded. Returned his attention to Rika.

“Look, I know it changed me. Knowing I lose my good mind, that I am on the cusp of nearly killing you all—I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat on the bed, gun in hand, trying to figure out the quickest, best way to shoot myself.” He drew in a heavy breath and let it out, slowly. “What had happened, I’d be breaking a dozen laws by telling you,” his dad said, voice raw, “but Tony …”

God, help me
.

“Don’t let it do to you what it’s done to me. Don’t become bitter and angry, so much that you’re alone. Isolated.” His dad swatted his arm. “I stay here alone with your mother because it’s physically safer for everyone. I don’t have a choice.
You
do.”

“Timbrel said pretty much the same thing.”

“Dang, I knew I liked that girl.”

Tony’s smile didn’t make it past his heavy heart.

“You have no reason to hide here, son. And if you sit here while your team is out there on an op, you’ll never forgive yourself if they get hurt and you could’ve done something. You’re letting them down. You’re letting me down.”

Surprise pushed Tony’s gaze to his father. “I never want to let you down, Dad. You’re my hero.”

“Then get on with life. And get back in the game.”

“I’m not sure I want to anymore. It wears on me, on my … soul.”

“What’s wearing on your soul is that you left something undone.”

Again, he considered his father. “What?”

“That girl. The mission.” The sunlight stretched through the branches of the oak trees, casting their amber glow on his face.

“How do you know there’s a mission?”

His father snorted. “Son, I was running combat ops before you were in diapers. You hauled out of here. Passed that PFT.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Never you mind. Never thought I’d see you take the bench on a mission. You’re putting everyone’s lives in danger, not to mention screwing up what you could’ve had with that girl and her dog.”

Tony laughed. “I have no relationship with that dog.”

“But I do, and I want him back here. She might as well come, too. God didn’t intend for us to be alone.”

        Thirty-four        

T
imbrel rapped three times on the hotel-room door. She glanced down at Beowulf, who sat attentive and expectant. Calm.

She tilted her head, listening to the other side of the wood barrier. Then knocked again.

The door behind her opened. Aspen peeked out, her hair in curlers.

Timbrel frowned. “I thought those curls were natural.”

“Mostly. These tame them.” She must’ve noticed Timbrel’s eyebrow wing upward. “Okay, somewhat.” Aspen nodded toward the door. “You looking for Dane?”

Worms slithered through Timbrel’s belly. “Yeah, I just had a question. You know where he is?”

Aspen shrugged. “No, I thought he was getting ready.” She checked her watch. “Speaking of—less than an hour. You should get ready yourself.”

“No worries. I’m low maintenance.” As in, if she changed out of her jeans, they should count themselves blessed.

Aspen chewed her lower lip. “If I were you, I’d change.”

“Why?” Timbrel said as she pointed the toe of her boot. “You have something against glass slippers?”

“No.” Aspen checked up one end of the hall then the other. “But if certain …
guests
show up, I’m sure you’d hate to be severely underdressed.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m going to be working.”

“Working? How?”

“Beo and I just finished a walk-through of the ballroom and rooms.”

Aspen gaped. “Wait—Beo’s trained for bombs.”

Timbrel nodded.

“Why would you have him sniffing out the ballroom? The only people coming are moneybags.”

“And a few others.” Timbrel bunched her shoulders, warding off the disdain she detected from Aspen. “Just trust me on this one. It won’t hurt for Beo to work and … well, I just have this feeling. I don’t trust Sajjan.”

“But he’s marrying your mom!”

“Which alone is enough reason to question the guy.” Timbrel tried to joke, but it fell flat. “Look, I overheard him talking on the phone last week. Talking to this guy I believe to be responsible for the explosion that injured Tony and Beowulf.”

“Why on earth didn’t you tell anyone sooner?”

“I tried! Nobody would listen. I tried calling Burnett, but he wouldn’t answer or return the calls.” Timbrel sucked up the adrenaline, the surging memories of Tony bleeding out. Of him at the training yard. So gorgeous. So commanding. “I can’t let it happen again.”

Aspen touched her arm. “You won’t be the only one there tonight who’ll be watching.” Meaning coursed through Aspen’s gaze.

“Thank you,” Timbrel said. But did Aspen mean something else? Or
someone
else? She scrutinized the woman’s expression. “Wait. Who do you mean…?”

Tucking her chin, Aspen withdrew into the room. Used the door as a shield. She smiled. “Hope you have a killer dress.”

The door closed. Timbrel hesitated before ruffling Beo’s fur. “I wish I talked girl code.” Because Aspen sure couldn’t be implying what Timbrel thought she was. That
someone special
would be there tonight.

Tony.

He was the only someone Timbrel would want to see. “And Lord knows that’s not happening.” She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button. They rode up a floor, and the elevator stopped and the doors slid open.

Box tucked under her arm, Khaterah entered and frowned as her gaze struck Timbrel’s. “Please tell me you’re planning to change.”

“I could say the same of you.” Timbrel smiled. “I’m on my way up now.” But she noticed her friend was a bundle of happy energy. “You okay?”

Practically bouncing, Khaterah covered her mouth. “I am so excited.” She touched Timbrel’s arm. “I just returned from the ballroom. We just got a wonderful surprise for all the sponsors tonight. A gift from one of Sajjan’s friends.”

Timbrel’s tummy coiled. Takkar. She restrained the groan over that man.