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  “Don’t make excuses, Hargreaves,” General Fonti said. “He can’t take your helicopters or offices or budget or any other fucking thing. He’s an Admiral in the Navy. And, in case you have forgotten, the Navy is not the Army.”

  General Fonti blew out an angry breath.

  “What does that mean for Hutchins, Carmichael, Scully, and Peaches?” Alex asked.

  “Lucky for you, the CS Navy hates Ingram’s guts,” General Fonti said. “Something happened between them. I don’t know the details.”

  “Ingram was promoted to Spec Ops?” Alex asked.

  “It’s more than that,” General Fonti said. “I think it’s because he knows you.”

  “Met him when he was a SEAL,” Alex nodded.

  “Yes, I’ve heard about that,” General Fonti.

  “And the Joint Chiefs?” Alex asked.

  “You’ve had dinner with every single one of them. You know their wives and children. Hell, your assistant is the son-in-law to one of them,” General Fonti shrugged. “Officially, they’ve said that team formation and ranking is the purview of each individual armed service. Otherwise, they have ‘no comment.’”

  Alex nodded.

  “You’re not going to have support from Special Operations Command,” General Fonti said. “And, I will tell you that the Commandant of the Coast Guard is pissed that none of his men or women are on your team.”

  “Duly noted,” Alex said.

  “This whole dead thing?” General Fonti asked. “How dedicated are you to it?”

  Alex shrugged.

  “I will tell you that it creeped the fuck out of me,” General Fonti said. “When I first heard about this, I tried to call you, email, text, fax . . . Nothing. An hour later, I get this fax about the memory of the Fey Special Forces Team and General Hargreaves’ son, Alexander.”

  Alex couldn’t help but grin.

  “Prick,” General Fonti said. “I sent one of our guys to talk to him. Knew he golfed with Rebecca, Colin, and Erin. And he . . .”

  General Fonti turned to look at her.

  “Your father is an asshole,” General Fonti said.

  “That, sir, is not news,” Alex said.

  General Fonti raised his eyebrows in agreement.

  “My sons probably say the same thing,” General Fonti said.

  “Not that I would confirm,” Alex said.

  General Fonti laughed. He started walking again.

  “CIA shit a brick,” General Fonti said. “Intelligence Center. I’ve had people screaming in my direction for a month. All the while, smug Ingram sends SEAL Team 8 into the Wakhan.”

  “That’s a long way from their permanent assignment in the Mediterranean and Southern Europe, sir,” Alex said.

  “Yes, it is,” General Fonti said. “Especially when there is a SEAL team that deals with the cold.”

  “SEAL team 5,” Alex said with a nod. “You think . . .”

  “I don’t know what to think,” General Fonti said. “I just know that within hours of firing you, he sent three platoons out into the wilds. Three platoons from the very team Zutterberg identified as on a kill list, no less. And then, like a magic trick gone wrong, he lost them.”

  General Fonti shrugged. He fell silent while two women in skin tight clothing ran by.

  “I guess the thing that gets me the most is that you didn’t come to me, or anyone for that matter,” General Fonti said. “Instead, you just crept away to lick your wounds.”

  “I don’t have an good answer as to why that happened.” Alex nodded. “I have a personality flaw. I just kind of fall into a hole . . . a broken place, inside, and disappear. This kind of thing happens, and I just . . . blank out. I’m sorry.”

  “You should be,” General Fonti said. “Because . . .”

  The General looked off at the horizon again and then shook his head.

  “I ran command in Iraq, Afghanistan,” General Fonti said. “You don’t have to convince me that there’s something else behind this besides random chance and selfishness. I’d easily believe that there is a group of people who want to roast marshmallows on the world’s fire. I’ve seen them try to make that happen. Whoever the fuck ‘they’ are.”

  General Fonti shook his head.

  “Sure as I’m standing here, there’s something out there that’s got a hand in every war,” General Fonti said with a nod. “Where do the terrorists get the money for weapons? And now all this Internet stuff? Who pays for their access? Why did we go into Afghanistan? Iraq? Why are we still allies with Pakistan? Citizens look to our government for answers, but I’ve seen too much. Sure as I’m standing here, this group of Black Skeletons, as you call them, is very real.”

  General Fonti stopped and looked at Alex.

  “I don’t have a big flowery speech to get you to come back. And it’s not going to be easy. Ingram is going to be a pain in your ass the rest of his career and possibly yours,” General Fonti said. “But you have my support and the support of the Secretary of Defense. You have funding through the President. He contacted me personally to make sure that you didn’t lose your rank or your beret. So you have friends. You have the trust of the men and women who serve under you and those who serve under them. I can’t think of a better position to be in.”

  “And Ingram?” Alex asked.

  “There isn’t anything anyone can do about him,” General Fonti said. “Endure him. That’s about it.”

  “He’s my commander,” Alex said.

  “Not anymore,” General Fonti said. “Once you’re undead, you’ll report to me — just for now, until we can figure out what is your best fit. The intelligence agencies — every single one — have asked for your command, as has the POW personnel office. I didn’t know if you’d want to stay under a Combatant Command, so you can continue to report to the Joint Chiefs, or not.”

  “I haven’t thought about it,” Alex said.

  “Think about it,” General Fonti said. “Figure out what you’d like to do, and I’ll do my damndest to make it happen.”

  “I’ll think about it, sir,” Alex said.

  “I had lunch with the General in charge of Strategic Command. Do you know him?” General Fonti asked.

  Alex shook her head.

  “Nice guy,” General Fonti said. “I bet your father can give you an earful. He’d like to take you under his command.”

  “I’m sure,” Alex said.

  “Just so we’re clear,” General Fonti said. “The biggest difference from what you have been doing to what you will be doing is that, if you come back, you’ll no longer be a combat frontline soldier. Make no mistake, this is a staff position. You, and possibly your entire team, will be a rear operations or possibly rear detachment.”

  “But . . .” Alex started.

  “You know my opinion on the matter,” General Fonti said. “You’re a Lieutenant Colonel. It’s time to hang up your boots and lead from the rear. Let the kids go out in front. Let them fight and die. You’ve been on the frontline more than enough. You have enough battle scars to last a hundred lifetimes. Now is the time to build some teams. Create a dozen Fey Teams. Hell, create a whole brigade. God knows we could use them.”

  “I hate armchair warriors,” Alex said under her breath.

  “I do, too,” General Fonti said. “But it happens to the best of us.”

  “Thank you, sir. I will think about it,” Alex said. “May I ask how you found me?”

  “Leah Zutterberg telephoned me with your address,” General Fonti said. “She thought you might be open to a conversation.”

  The General’s limousine pulled up ahead of them.

  “I’m due at a meeting,” General Fonti said.

  “War games, sir,” Alex said.

  “It’s an armchair business, Alex,” General Fonti said. “You should have been in the easy chair a decade ago.”

  He stopped. In a gesture uncharacteristic of the man, he held out his arms and hugged Alex.

  “Don’t give up,” he
said. “Work on that hole. I’ll be in touch.”

  With a nod, he stepped into the limousine. She watched them drive off before walking Maggie back to her house. By the time she got home, Helene had packed all of her sadness away. She and Claire were teaching Joey and Máire to sing “Frère Jacques.” Alex and Maggie joined in their fun.

  F

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Friday mid-day

  November 4 — 12:35 p.m. PDT

  La Jolla, California

  “How do you know that?” Alex asked Colin in a low tone.

  They were sitting in a quiet corner in the Labor and Delivery waiting room. Erin and Matthew had planned to have their child at the Naval Hospital at Camp Pendleton, Erin had been at work in La Jolla when she’d gone into labor. She’d taken herself to the nearest hospital and called Alex. Matthew was now in the room with Erin and the rest of the Hargreaves clan were on their way.

  “Matt told me in the car here,” Colin said. “He gave me the whole update — Zutterberg’s wife, General Fonti, do we stay a combat frontline unit or move to the rear. What I wondered . . .”

  They looked up as Rebecca flew through the waiting room to speak with the nurse. She gave them a wave and was escorted back.

  “Leah offered me ownership of the company,” Alex said.

  “That’s kind of a no-brainer since her husband already willed you all of their case files and intelligence,” Colin said.

  “She did save my and Zack’s lives,” Alex said.

  Colin nodded with his entire body.

  “I just wondered if you’d really give it up,” Colin said.

  “Give what up?” Alex asked.

  “The gear-up, go to battle, ‘let’s get it done,’” Colin said. “You’ve been doing it for more than half your life. And . . .”

  Their father, retired General and Senator Patrick Hargreaves, nodded to them as he walked through the waiting room. Not waiting for the okay, Patrick went into the back to find Erin.

  “You’re kind of addicted to it,” Colin said.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you,” Colin said. “You love the rush of the whole thing.”

  “You sure that’s not you?”

  “Of course, it’s me,” Colin said in an irritated whisper. “I almost killed myself trying to live without it.”

  Alex grunted in agreement.

  “It’s three things, really,” Alex said, her voice dropping with sorrow. “Move to the rear.”

  “Die of boredom,” Colin said.

  “But stay in the US military,” Alex said.

  “Why is that a plus?” Colin asked.

  “Retire with a full pension,” Alex said with a shrug. “By that time, John will be ready to retire. It also has the benefit of being the original plan.”

  Colin nodded that he understood. Their eldest sister, Samantha, came into the waiting room. Rather than going to the desk, Samantha made a beeline for the empty seat next to Colin. As usual, she pulled out her cell phone and started texting. Also the norm, Alex and Colin ignored her completely.

  “Take up Leah’s offer,” Alex said. Her voice rose with hope. “Stay in the field, on assignment. Continue to work jobs one at a time. Leah said I’d likely do the same jobs, for the same people.”

  “For more money and freedom,” Colin said.

  “Right,” Alex said. “More home time, more control.”

  “Sounds kind of perfect,” Alex said with a nod. Colin gave an agreeing nod.

  “It does sound perfect,” Colin said. “What’s the third?”

  “Stay as I am now,” Alex said. Alex felt a wave a fresh air. She sat up straighter. “Raise Joey and Máire. Maybe have more kids. Max and Wyatt are already talking about it. I could stay at home. Take disabled leave from the military and live off that pension. Focus on ‘For the Friendless.’”

  “John’s salary will make you more than enough money,” Colin said. He shook his head. “I get that it’s fun for now, but do you honestly think you could live without being in the military?”

  “I’ll take up rock climbing or base jumping or extreme skiing or whatever to get my fix,” Alex said. She nodded to convince herself. “After the last couple of months, it sounds like heaven to me.”

  “I know,” Colin said. “Of all things, I know this plan because it was mine. I love kids. I figured that I could teach. Julie and I could have a baseball team of our own. I’d watch my students and my own kids grow and learn and conquer the world. What could be more satisfying than that?”

  Alex watched his face. He shrugged.

  “Now, that’s a great life,” Colin said. “It’s just not a great life for me. I never felt successful. Because I didn’t know how to evaluate my successes or failure, I could see only my failures, which were many. I was never able to overcome those failures because . . .”

  “You were never successful,” Alex said, with a nod.

  “Only because I couldn’t tell if I was successful or not successful, you know?” Colin looked at Alex and she nodded. “The military life is the only life I’ve ever known. I know exactly when I succeed and what to do when I fail. I know that if I fail to see my mistakes, my supervisor will see it, and if he’s not a complete ass, he’ll help me to achieve more. I need that reflection like I need food or water.”

  “Having someone help you achieve more?” Alex asked. “Or someone to help you see when you’ve succeeded . . .”

  “Or failed,” Colin nodded. “Like we do on the team. I honestly don’t think I can live without the work we’ve been doing in the Fey Team.”

  “Deep, little bro,” Alex said with a nod.

  “Doing my best to fulfill my duty as your biggest little brother,” Colin said.

  She looked at him, and he nodded. He put his arm over her shoulder, and they fell into the silence of waiting.

  “Hargreaves?” A nurse asked as she came out from the back.

  Samantha raised her hand, and the nurse came over to them.

  “Your sister wanted to let you know that she had has her daughter,” the nurse said.

  “So fast?” Samantha asked.

  “Turns out your sister was in labor for most of the day,” the nurse said. “She didn’t head over here until her contractions were two minutes apart. Your sister’s a real trouper.”

  Colin, Alex, and Samantha grinned at each other and the nurse.

  “Your niece is six pounds, ten ounces, with a full shock of red hair,” the nurse said. “She is tall — twenty-three inches — which is a little outside of normal, but her father is tall. At 6 pounds ten ounces, she’s skinny, but all indications are that she is healthy.”

  “And Erin?” Alex asked.

  “How is she?” Samantha asked.

  “She’s doing great,” the nurse said. “Your sister asked that you give them some time before coming back. Your parents should be coming out. Erin wanted to be alone with her husband and her baby for a bit.”

  They watched the nurse head back into the nursery.

  “I think it’s about purpose,” Samantha said.

  “What is?” Colin asked.

  Alex shifted to look at Samantha.

  “Alex’s situation,” Samantha said. “You’re looking at it as whether or not you want to let go of the excitement of front line. If you go with Leah, you can continue fighting. But, if you stay in, you’ll have to head to the rear. Sure, I get that. But there’s something else going on — you just can’t see it now.”

  “What’s that?” Alex asked.

  “I had this whole plan,” Samantha said. “I’d get the Navy to pay for my law school. As a JAG lawyer, I’d get great experience in the courtroom. When my contract with the Navy was up, I’d be able to go to any first tier law firm. I’d make a mint — you know?”

  Alex and Colin nodded.

  “But when I got out, I got my trust,” Samantha said. “Suddenly, I could buy as many shoes as I wanted. Making money no longer held that . . . charm that it once had.”r />
  She looked to see if Colin or Alex were judging her and found that they were simply listening. She continued on.

  “When you’re in the military, you’re working for a bigger purpose,” Samantha said. “Maybe it’s just the way we were raised, but this country means something to me. It sounds bullshit, even to me, but as soon as I was out of the Navy, I no longer had that sense of purpose. I was just working for selfish me, rather than working to make my country a better nation, making my military a better institution.”

  Samantha nodded. Their parents came out of the back and started in their direction.

  “It’s taken me a long time to find something to believe in as much as wanting to protect and serve my country,” Samantha said. “I think you, Alex, are going to have a really hard time losing what you’re fighting for.”

  “What am I fighting for?” Alex watched Samantha’s face.

  Samantha put her hand over Alex’s heart.

  “It beats right there,” Samantha said. “Don’t trade it in until you’re sure what you’ll be fighting for.”

  “What is it?” their mother asked as she approached. Patrick stopped at the desk for a moment. “You seem so serious.”

  The first to recover, Alex turned to look at her mother. She nodded hello to their father.

  “We’re placing bets on names,” Alex said. “You know our Sami, she always comes up with the weirdest names.”

  “Egidia,” Samantha said. She turned over her phone to show a picture of the name. “Means ‘young goat.’ It’s a great name for a kid.”

  Alex and Colin laughed.

  “You must be psychic!” Patrick said. “That’s the name she picked.”

  Alex, Samantha, Colin, and Rebecca turned to him in horror.

  “Or was it Eunice,” Patrick said. For dramatic effect, he stared at the ceiling as if he were thinking. “Nope, I was wrong. It’s not Egidia. It’s Eunice Rebecca Hargreaves-Mac Clenaghan.”

  They laughed.

  “Matthew’s grandmother was named Eunice,” Alex said.

  “She’s so beautiful,” Rebecca said. “And . . .”

  As she had with every baby she’d ever seen, Rebecca began to gush. Eunice was the most beautiful baby in the entire world, perfect in every way, little fingers, little toes, beautiful skin, and on and on.