Backlash Read online

  Kel blew out a little breath and took another step with his bad leg, this time letting his weight stay on it a bit longer. Slowly, he found a rhythm, one foot then the other. His hand still gripped the rail, steadying him as he reached the first landing.

  “Keep going, Commander,” Tristan encouraged him from behind. “We’re right on schedule.”

  Three and a half minutes later, they emerged through the door onto the main floor and made their way to a back door. Brent checked his watch, holding up one hand as he signaled for everyone to wait. Then his hand dropped, and Tristan opened the door.

  Kel stepped out into the night and smelled the sweet scent of freedom.

  * * *

  “I still can’t believe you broke out of the hospital.” Marilyn shook her head, bewildered. She had followed Riley outside to where Katherine Whitmore’s SUV had been parked. A few minutes later, Amy arrived outside and told everyone to get in. She then drove over to a back entrance moments before their three husbands emerged without a sound. Then everyone was in the SUV, and they were headed for the stadium.

  “I can’t tell you how good it feels to be out of that place,” Kel told her. He then shifted his attention to the front seat where Brent was in the passenger seat beside Amy. “Do I even want to know what you bribed Roger with to get him to double for me tonight?”

  “I believe there was some mention of a weekend liberty.”

  Kel shook his head and chuckled. “So who are the Nationals playing tonight anyway?”

  “The Devil Rays.”

  Marilyn straightened a little in her seat as she recalled the Whitmores talking that morning about going to watch their oldest son play tonight. “Amy, isn’t that the team your brother plays for?”

  “Yeah.” Amy nodded. “That’s why we picked tonight to go. When Matt’s playing, I have a few more strings I can pull.”

  “You know, I’ve never been to a live game before,” Marilyn said conversationally, surprised that she could say something like that in front of so many people.

  “Really?” Brent shifted to look at her. “Then I’m glad you’re able to come along. Tonight’s going to be a lot of fun.”

  Amy passed the parking lot for general parking and continued to the lot right next to the stadium. She pulled in to where a guard was posted, the sign behind him clearly stating that permits were required. Amy showed the guard some kind of pass and was immediately waved through.

  The parking lot was already crowded, but Amy passed the few open spots on the far side of the lot and continued toward the stadium. Then she slowed down and pulled into a spot right by the entrance. A sign at the front of the spot read simply, “Reserved: Whitmore.”

  “You have a reserved parking space inside the reserved lot?” Marilyn asked in awe.

  “Not usually, but my brother pulled a few strings for me. Or maybe it was my dad.” Amy shrugged a shoulder and grinned back at Marilyn. “I can’t ever figure out who has what connections, so I normally thank both of them so that I’m covered.”

  “Let’s go.” Brent pushed the door open, and everyone climbed out. A few minutes later, they were in their seats and the first pitch was thrown.

  “This is amazing,” Marilyn said as she leaned closer to Kel. “This place is huge, but it feels like everyone is just hanging out at a big party or something.”

  Kel nodded in understanding. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too.”

  11

  Halim stood in the shadows of Bethesda Naval Hospital, watching, waiting. He had spent three days staking out the hospital parking lot, hoping to catch a glimpse of Seth going to visit the man presumed to be his commanding officer. Other men and women arrived, steadily passing through the security at the front entrance and leaving the same way.

  A delivery truck pulled past him and headed for the back doors. Halim had tried slipping in through that back entrance the day before until he had seen that there were guards stationed there every time a delivery arrived. For now he wasn’t willing to resort to force.

  The news that Lina Ramir was once again living in a federal prison had enraged Akil and those close to him. While Halim’s first instinct had been to strike, to somehow break Lina out of prison, Akil had insisted they be a little more practical. Akil understood the Americans well and planned to wage a different kind of war when the time came. Once the softhearted American liberals learned on some news program that the military had abducted Lina, had taken her by force from her home in a foreign land, he was sure the public outcry would free her. Or, failing that, a slick, pricy lawyer.

  Before they could deal with freeing Lina, Halim had to take care of one other obstacle first: finding the man who claimed to be her fiancé and making sure he was out of her life for good.

  The doors of the front entrance opened once more. When a nurse pushing a patient in a wheelchair emerged from the building, a new idea began to form. Perhaps the answer wasn’t how to get into the hospital, but rather when to be ready when the commander got out.

  * * *

  The tingling was still there, along with a pulling sensation, as Kel stepped with his injured leg. The bandages were off and the stitches were out, but he could still feel the slight limp he couldn’t seem to overcome. Since the night he had sneaked out of the hospital with Brent and Tristan, Kel could feel himself making progress. But he knew that he wasn’t anywhere near where he needed to be to get back to work.

  Walking was still difficult, and the doctor insisted he use a cane for several more weeks until he could adjust to the numbness in his leg. He wasn’t sure which was worse, the nerve damage that caused part of his leg to feel dead to him or the knee that seemed to swell up every time he thought about doing something new.

  A torn or strained ligament was the diagnosis for his knee, but he knew the doctor couldn’t do anything more than make an educated guess. Apparently, the possible presence of gun fragments in his wound prevented him from being able to have an MRI, which would have helped confirm the diagnosis. So for now, he would continue with rehab and hope that he would continue to improve.

  “You’re looking better,” Alex said when Kel finished his allotted time on the stair-climber. “How’s the swelling?”

  “It still flares up after the stairs, but it’s getting better when I only use the treadmill.”

  “That’s not uncommon with a ligament injury,” Alex told him. “If it doesn’t get better after another month, you’ll need to check back with the doctor to see if the ligament needs to be surgically repaired.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  Alex shrugged. “I know it isn’t easy, but six more months of rehab is a piece of cake compared to losing your active-duty status.”

  “I know,” Kel agreed, but he prayed that his recovery wouldn’t take nearly that long. The thought of spending another two to three months in rehab was daunting. He couldn’t imagine adding another six months to that before he could go back to work.

  Across the room another therapist wheeled a young lieutenant into the room. The man’s left ankle was wrapped in an orthopedic brace, and he winced in pain as he gingerly put some weight on it.

  “I haven’t seen him here before. What happened to him?”

  “Lieutenant Branders.” Alex’s tone echoed with disapproval. “He took a bad fall on a run near the Pentagon a couple of weeks ago, but he hasn’t been very cooperative in helping us get him back into shape.”

  “Pencil pusher?”

  Alex nodded.

  Kel glanced back over when Lieutenant Branders grasped the parallel bars that were in place to help support his weight as he learned how to walk again. The man only took one step before he grabbed the bars and leaned heavily on them.

  “It still hurts,” the lieutenant complained. “I’m not ready yet.”

  “Sir, you are ready,” the therapist insisted. “If you don’t start walking on that ankle, the muscles are going to atrophy, and your injury could become pe
rmanent.”

  “I’m telling you, I can’t do it,” the lieutenant insisted. “Help me into the wheelchair.”

  “No,” the therapist refused. “You need to try. All I’m asking you to do is try.” He moved to the other end of the parallel bars and motioned to the lieutenant. “Walk over here to me, and then I’ll take you back to your room.”

  “I can’t do it!” the lieutenant shouted at the man, his face now red with anger. “Get me that wheelchair. That’s an order.”

  Again, the therapist refused.

  The lieutenant’s rage exploded. Demands and insults spewed from his mouth, followed by threats. When the lieutenant began to pull rank, Kel felt his own anger bubble up.

  “Lieutenant!” Kel’s voice carried authoritatively with the single, hard-spoken word. The man looked up at Kel, fury still in his face. Kel limped closer before speaking again. “If you want to be treated with the respect your rank deserves, I suggest you start acting like a naval officer.”

  The muscle in the lieutenant’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond.

  “These men are trying to help us however they can. I don’t care if he’s a seaman or an admiral. He deserves your respect, and you’re going to give it to him. Do I make myself clear?”

  Standing up a little straighter, he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” Kel turned back to Alex and proved his point with his own actions. “Now, Petty Officer, what would you like me to do next?”

  “Let me get you some ice for that knee, Commander. Then we’ll let you take another run on the treadmill.”

  Kel nodded in agreement. “Whatever you say.”

  * * *

  “Bethesda Naval Hospital, may I help you?” the cheerful voice came over the line.

  “I hope so. My son is a patient there, and I was hoping to come into town to surprise him when he gets released, but he didn’t seem to know when that would be. Is there any way I can find out without letting him know that I’m coming?”

  “What is the patient’s name, sir?”

  “Commander Kelan Bennett,” Halim read from the newspaper clipping in front of him.

  “I can transfer you to the nurses’ station on his floor. They should be able to help you.”

  “Thank you,” Halim said, waiting as he was transferred. When a man’s voice came on the line, he worried that he might have been transferred directly to the commander’s room. Instead of repeating his fictional story, he said, “I understand Commander Bennett is a patient on your floor.”

  “Yes, sir,” the young man said. “Would you like me to connect you to his room?”

  “No, thank you. Actually, I’m looking for some information,” Halim said in his best American accent. He repeated his claim that he was the commander’s father and wanted to surprise him when he was released.

  “Can you verify the commander’s date of birth?” the young man asked now.

  “Of course.” Halim smiled, grateful he had taken the time to ferret that information out of Virginia’s Department of Motor Vehicles office. He read off the birth date and was then asked for the commander’s address as an additional security check. A few minutes later he jotted down the date that he would begin taking revenge on the men who had taken Lina from him.

  12

  She was stumped. Marilyn stared at the cursor blinking on the computer screen. For the first time, she didn’t know what happened next. Her hero had altered from what she had intended into a man who was constantly struggling to balance his personal life with his work while somehow still managing to appear invincible. It was like he could do anything, except for be there when the heroine needed him. Her heroine had developed many of her own traits, her own doubts. Even Marilyn’s fears of being alone had woven their way into the fabric of this woman who now lived and breathed within the pages of her novel.

  Marilyn pushed out of her chair and wandered over to the window in the room she now considered her own. The bed behind her was neatly made, the bathroom scrubbed down, and her things all packed. When she walked away today, she would leave behind the little laptop that had become her constant companion.

  She had so wanted to bring this story to a close, especially since Kel was getting released from the hospital in a matter of hours. With him around the house, she wouldn’t be able to justify being at the computer for hours on end.

  With a shake of her head, she decided it was okay to let her characters have a little time to figure out what came next. It was time for her to figure out what came next.

  Kel’s progress was coming along, the bullet wound now completely healed except for some residual nerve damage. No one was sure yet if that would impact his return to active duty. Marilyn only knew that Kel refused to consider any possibilities besides returning to the teams full time.

  Marilyn didn’t want to think about that yet. For now, she wanted to enjoy being back in her own home with her husband by her side. She wanted to see if this new bond between them would last once she no longer had his undivided attention.

  She saved the file to her flash drive and turned off the laptop. Gathering her things together, she moved out of the guest room to find Katherine coming down the hall.

  “I was just going to see if you needed any help.” Katherine reached for the smaller of Marilyn’s two suitcases. “Here, let me take that.”

  “Thanks.” Marilyn followed her down the hall and out the front door. “I really can’t thank you enough for letting me stay here with you.”

  “We’ve enjoyed having you.” Katherine smiled warmly as she set the suitcase down beside the car. “You and Kel are welcome to stay with us anytime you’re in the area.”

  “Thank you.” Marilyn loaded her bags into the trunk and then turned to face Katherine. “Please tell Senator Whitmore thank you for me.”

  “I will.” Katherine reached for Marilyn and gave her a hug. “You have a safe trip.”

  Marilyn nodded and climbed behind the wheel. As she pulled away, she felt a little pang of envy spreading through her. She loved the easygoing way the Whitmores had with each other, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she and Kel would ever be able to find that for themselves.

  * * *

  “Are you ready?”

  Kel looked up at his wife and grinned. “Get me out of here quick before they change their minds.”

  “Don’t worry.” Marilyn smiled back at him. “If they try to keep you, I’ll call Brent and tell him to arrange another jailbreak.”

  Alex followed Marilyn into the room, humor in his voice. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  Kel looked up at Alex and caught that knowing look in his eyes. “You knew about that?”

  “You could say that.”

  Kel’s eyes narrowed, and he shook his head as understanding dawned. “You set me up.” With another shake of his head, he let out a short laugh. “You got my guys to break me out of here so I would tackle those stairs.”

  “You planned that?” Marilyn asked now, stunned.

  “Your husband had hit a roadblock, and he needed to get past it,” Alex said. “I needed him to get past it.”

  “I can’t believe you would resort to such extreme measures.”

  He shrugged. “It worked.”

  “Yeah, it worked.” Kel offered his hand in the way of a thank you. “Thanks to you, I’m getting out of here three days ahead of schedule.”

  “Glad to help.” He turned to Marilyn. “Mrs. Bennett, if you want to go pull your car around, we’ll meet you at the front entrance.”

  “Okay,” Marilyn agreed. She picked up the stack of games that were still in Kel’s room, along with his overnight bag. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  Alex motioned to a wheelchair parked right outside Kel’s door. “Now, am I going to have to wrestle you into this wheelchair, or are you going to come willingly?”

  Kel looked him in the eye for a moment, considering. “I gather you have a lot of people try to refuse the wheelchair.”
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br />   “Yes, sir.” He nodded. “And as I always have to explain, it’s policy that you be in the wheelchair when you leave the facility.”

  “So my fastest course out of here is to let you take me for a ride.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then let’s go.” Kel moved out into the hall with Alex and obediently sat down in the wheelchair.

  Alex pushed him to the elevator and hit the down button. “By the way, I wanted to apologize to you. Your dad had planned to be here when you got released, but we didn’t have his number to call to let him know that you were getting out earlier than expected.”

  Kel pushed out of the wheelchair and turned to look at Alex. “What did you say?”

  Confused by the sudden tension in Kel, he explained, “Your dad called a couple of weeks ago and said he wanted to come into town to be here when you were released. We gave him the date you were scheduled for, but the nurse who took the call didn’t write down his contact information.” Alex paused. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah.” Kel nodded. “My father is dead.”

  “I don’t understand.” He shook his head. “By policy, we always check some personal data before we give out any information.”

  “What kind of personal data?”

  “Standard stuff like the patient’s birth date and address,” he told Kel.

  Kel’s jaw tightened, his mouth pressing into a hard line. “Then this guy, whoever he is, knows where I live.”

  “Do you have any idea who it might be?”

  “No, but I’m not taking my wife home until I’m sure it’s safe,” Kel told him. “I don’t want her to worry, but if I don’t get downstairs pretty soon, she’s going to be suspicious. Can I get you to make a couple of phone calls for me?”

  “Sure.” Alex nodded quickly in agreement. “Just let me know what you want me to do.”

  13

  Marilyn followed the directions Kel gave her, turning into the little inn overlooking the James River. They were still nearly two hours from home, but Kel had insisted he needed to make a stop along the way. “Why did you want to stop here?”