Fear and anger erupted in tandem, and Cal slammed a fist into the barricade. He welcomed the splitting of his knuckles, the pain that followed.
“Calm down,” Max said. “Tara needs you levelheaded not a raving lunatic.”
Cal tried to banish the raging red tinting his vision and keeping him from doing his job.
Job? Right.
He’d always been the one who knew what to do in every situation. How to remain calm under pressure. Think on his feet. Well, he wasn’t thinking now. At least not anything good or helpful.
“C’mon, Cal,” Rick said. “Tara needs you.”
Yes, Tara. Forget Keeler for now and think only of Tara.
He took deep breaths, blew them out, and lost count of the number of times he inhaled before finding the control he so desperately needed. Finding the agent who could think logically and reason out his options.
Figuring only one option existed right now, he dug out his car keys. “I’m going to June’s house.”
Rick grabbed his arm. “You’re in no state to drive. We could dispatch locals to check it out first.”
Cal shrugged free. “I might be a bit on edge, but we’re not sending a local team to June’s house and risk them botching this. June deserves our best effort, as does Tara.”
“And our best means not letting you go in on your own.” Max held Cal’s gaze, warning Cal not to argue. “We have no idea what’s happening at June’s place. I shouldn’t let you go at all.”
Cal planted his feet on the concrete. “It’s not like you’re going to stop me.”
“I’ll go with him,” Rick volunteered.
“Guess that’s the best I can hope for.”
“Grab your gear while I retrieve my car,” Cal said to Rick.
Cal didn’t waste time waiting for Rick’s response or Max’s blessing, but ran across the inner perimeter and got his car going. He parked near the outside perimeter, engine idling as he waited for Rick. His mind went to Tara. She would do anything she could to protect June, and Keeler had to know that was Tara’s Achilles’ heel. As much as Cal would rather not believe Keeler enticed Tara from the house, Cal had to wonder what Keeler had done or said to get Tara to run from safety.
Rick jerked open the passenger door.
Cal jumped and chastised himself for being so jittery.
Rick eyed him as he dropped onto the passenger seat and settled his bag on his lap, but he didn’t say anything.
Cal wrapped his hand around the gearshift, the trembling in his fingers a foreign feeling for him.
Rick’s focus went to the shifter. “I’ve never seen you rattled like this.”
“Me either.” Admitting it aloud unsettled Cal even more.
“You’ve got a thing for her,” Rick said, an understatement for sure. “And you need to find a way to put it aside by the time we get to June’s place or let me take lead.”
“Not happening, man. I’m calling the shots.” Cal eyed Rick until he held up his hands in defeat.
Struggling for calm, Cal inched the SUV through the workers, honking when they didn’t yield the right of way. He’d faced down invading terrorists. Had knives and guns pointed at him. Bombs explode near him. But nerves like this? Tara missing? That was beyond him.
He needed help. Much more than Rick could provide. They were both just men. Skilled men, but men failed. Tara was too important for even a hint of failure.
Father, help us, please, he implored. He had to let go of his anger at God. Let go of his stubbornness and trust Him to save Tara. It was the only hope.
Please, he pleaded again before turning his attention to the perimeter ahead and honking at the officer moving the barricade at a snail’s speed.
Cal wanted to race through the opening, but reporters and looky-loos stared at him and failed to yield the right of way until he flipped on his lights and siren, and laid on his horn.
Ten minutes later, he finally reached the main access road leading to the highway and another hour passed before GPS announced their destination a mile ahead on the right. Cal eased the car onto the shoulder and flipped off his headlights. Rick rummaged through his bag, came out holding night-vision goggles, and strapped them on.
Cal killed the engine and peered ahead. The house sat in the dark, shadows cloaking both stories. A light shone through the living room window.
“Look for June’s protection detail,” Cal directed. “They should be blocking the drive before the house.”
Rick sat forward and stared out of the window. “No sign of them.”
Cal curled his fingers but held his anger in check, as he couldn’t risk damaging his hand when he might need it. “Let’s get suited up and hike in.”
Rick didn’t have to be told twice, and he exited the car with Cal. A cooling breeze rushed over Cal as he opened the back window to retrieve combat vests and fill pockets with extra ammo and tools.
The action felt so similar to suiting up for his days at war. A fitting sentiment in Cal’s mind. The entire country was at war with terror, and men like Keeler had to be stopped.
Cal tucked a backup gun behind his vest and settled his NVGs on his head. After a quick check of the thirty-round magazine for his assault rifle, he was ready to roll.
He nodded at Rick, then made a sweep of the area, the green tint from the goggles familiar and comforting as he scanned. Not seeing any threat, he signaled his intent to move and stepped off.
Despite darkness and heavy clouds obscuring the moon, Cal could see a clear path to the house. He tightened his hold on his rifle and moved silently down the drive. A single cow mooed in the distance, breaking the quiet. Despite the lack of noise, Cal didn’t have to look back to know that Rick was right on his heels. He was as silent and deadly as all of the Knights, and if Cal had heard Rick’s footsteps, something would be very wrong.
Cal eased off the drive and approached the house, pausing at the living room window. He signaled for Rick to hold. The light from inside cascaded into the night and illuminated the shrubbery below, forcing Cal to lift his goggles as he crept closer to the window.
He shot a quick look inside, then retreated, his heart plummeting. A brief glance told him that June sat in a chair, Keeler’s telltale white PVC circling her neck. Cal returned to the window again and held his breath as he ran his gaze over the room, looking for Tara in a similar situation. He determined June sat alone and confirmed that, other than the bomb, no additional danger presented itself.
He dropped to a squat and froze in place as he tried to figure out where Tara could be. Rick duckwalked closer and cast a questioning look at Cal. He signaled to look inside. Rick took a long look and came to squat next to Cal.
“A bomb would definitely bring Tara out here.”
“No sign of her, though,” Cal whispered. “But she could be in another room.”
“We need to gain access to the house and not through a door,” Rick whispered back.
He was right. Keeler could have booby-trapped the doors and windows. Still, they could cut a hole in a window and insert a camera to determine if it was safe to open.
Cal signaled for Rick to follow him to the back of the house where, if Keeler was watching from the road, his finger perched over a remote, he couldn’t see them enter the house. Cal dug into the bag attached to his vest and located a glass-cutting tool. Rick stood at the corner keeping watch. Cal made the hole and inserted a snake camera through the opening. He swiveled the camera to capture every inch of the window frame.
“We’re clear,” he whispered, and unfastened the lock. “We’re good to go.”
Rick backed his way over to Cal. “We need to steer clear of the living room. If there’s a leveling device on the bomb, we don’t want to spook June.”
Cal nodded his agreement and silently climbed inside. He and Rick both knew the first-floor layout from prior visits, so Cal stepped straight ahead and gestured for Rick to move right. Together they crept through the first floor until they’d cleared all rooms save the living room and headed up the stairs.
Four bedrooms and a bathroom later, they hadn’t found Tara, and Cal’s worry for her safety almost had him running down the stairs and bursting in on June to question her.
Rick faced Cal. “Now what? We can’t go barreling down the stairs and scare June.”
Cal forced Tara from his mind and ran their options until a sound idea took hold. “I saw an answering machine on the kitchen counter. A ringing phone shouldn’t freak her out too badly. I’ll leave a message telling her that we’re in the house and coming down the stairs.”
Rick nodded his approval. Cal made the call. A ringer pealed from a bedroom down the hall and from the kitchen. On the sixth ring, June’s cheerful message played. Cal left a message after the beep.
“Agent Riggins,” June called out. “Are you really here?”
“That I am,” he replied from the top of the stairs. “Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“I’m with a fellow agent, and we’re coming down now.”
Cal took lead. He wanted to march straight into the living room, but they needed to take care, as a remote possibility existed that they’d missed something on their sweep and June was compromised by Keeler, saying anything he instructed her to say.
Nearing the bottom of the stairs, Cal swung around the corner to run his gaze over the room and confirm their earlier assessment. Once cleared, he lowered his weapon and smiled at June.
She stared up at him, her usual smile absent. “Now don’t the two of you look fierce.”
Cal stepped to the side and introduced Rick, who remained in the archway where he could see the porch and driveway.
June gave Rick an earnest smile. “Nice to meet you, Agent Cannon.”
“You too, ma’am,” Rick replied, his southern accent especially thick, as if he hoped his lazy drawl would help June relax.
Cal crossed over to June. “Not that I don’t appreciate exchanging pleasantries, but we need to arrange the proper assistance to deal with your bomb.”
“This little thing.” She smiled, and Cal was amazed at how calm she was being.
“I’ll call Max to get the bomb squad dispatched,” Rick said.
“Make sure they have a Faraday cloak for June, too, and let’s get someone on looking for the agents on June’s detail.”
Rick gave a clipped nod and dug out his phone.
“I assume you want to know where Tara is, and if I know where Oren went.” She patted the chair next to her. “Come sit down, and I’ll explain. You’re making me nervous standing there like an intense warrior.”
Cal took the chair next to her, but Rick remained at the entryway, a stance that would allow him to protect them should Keeler breach the front door.
June planted her hands on her knees. “All I know is that Oren strapped this thing on me and had me call Tara. He instructed her to make sure you responded to that bomb threat.”
So Cal had been right. Keeler was the reason for Tara’s apology. It was just like her to take the time to say she was sorry.
“Now before you get upset with Tara,” June continued. “She didn’t want to do it. She really cares for you, Cal, but Oren threatened to detonate not only this bomb, but the one on the woman you went to help. And he’s done something with the agents out front. Tara figured you could handle yourself better than anyone else could.”
“She was right,” Rick said.
“But where is she?” Cal asked, trying to keep his anxiety at bay.
“I wish I knew.” June wrung her hands together, raising Cal’s concern. “Oren left a phone on the dining room table, and he told her to come here to wait for his call. When he phoned, he instructed her to get in the car and take Highway 17 heading north.”
“Did he provide a destination?” Cal’s voice came out like a strangled cry.
June started to shake her head, then sat perfectly still. “I keep forgetting this thing could go off if I move.”
Anger over the mistreatment of this wonderful woman churned in Cal’s gut, but he swallowed it down so he didn’t agitate her even more.
“Oren didn’t give a specific destination.”
“Do you know what kind of car she was driving?” Cal asked.
“No. Sorry. I didn’t think to ask.” She twisted her hands together in her lap.
“It’s okay, June,” Cal soothed. “We’ll find her.”
“Squad’s on the way,” Rick broke in. “They’ll figure something out to cloak June with.”
“Cloak?” June asked.
Cal turned his attention back to her. “They’ll cover you with a specially coated metallic shield that will prevent a radio signal from getting through and arming the device.” Cal continued to keep his focus on June while sneaking quick looks at the bomb, trying to see anything different from the dummy bomb. He spotted a hole on the right side and got up to circle her.
“I feel like an animal in the zoo.” She laughed.
Cal found no reason to laugh. He dug out his phone. “I’m going to snap a few pictures of the device.”
“Should I smile?” June chuckled again.
Cal admired her attitude. He doubted he would be so relaxed in her situation. “You’re taking this awfully well.”
“You’re here to remove this, so why should I be worried?”
Why? Because I don’t know how to render this bomb safe, and until I figure it out, I can’t remove it.
June continued to peer up at him. “Will you start working on it now or wait for the bomb squad to arrive?”
The six-million-dollar question. He could grab tools from his car and try to remove the device like he’d done with Hadil, but if that device hadn’t been a dummy, both he and Hadil would be dead right now. Once he had a chance to study that bomb, he might be able to figure out what went wrong with the device and finally discover how to render this one safe.
“If you’re worried about Tara, she’s strong and resourceful,” June said. “After all, she managed to evade you for months.”
Despite the turmoil, Cal smiled.
June’s expression turned hopeful, and Cal came to a decision.
He was willing to risk his own life, but June’s? The woman who meant so much to Tara? No, that he wouldn’t do. He opened his mouth to tell her that her bomb was like a disease and there wasn’t yet a cure, but he couldn’t get the words out.
“You’re going to look for Tara instead. I understand, and the local squad will be fine.”
“No, it’s not that.”
Hope faded from her face. “You can’t disarm it, then.”
“Not yet, but I’ll figure it out.”
Her chin lifted. “I know you will, and I can wait.”
His anger flared over the situation. Over Tara missing, over all of the evil in the world that ended precious lives. He raised a hand to strike something. The wall, the chair, anything within spitting distance to release the pressure cooker in his gut.
“Looks like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders,” June said, catching his attention and distracting him.
“Not the whole world,” he joked, and shoved his hands into his pockets to contain the urge to lash out.
“Maybe not, but you’re worried about Tara and me, and if I’ve read you right, I suspect you’re carrying more than that around.”
Cal wasn’t about to share his struggles with her. “Something like that.”
She studied him, her perceptive eyes digging deep. “You guys might be these big strapping men with skills that simple country folks like me can’t even begin to imagine, but you’re just that. A man.”
“I know.”
“Do you, or do you think that you need to be perfect? That you don’t have flaws or know that there are times that you can’t figure something out?”
“I know. Trust me. People have died on my watch.”
“But how many people have you helped? Saved? Embrace that and let the other things fall away.”
Her words gave him hope, but then she hadn’t a clue about the cost of his failures. “You don’t understand.”
He waited for a judgmental look, but it never came.
“Did you do your best when these people died?” she asked.
He nodded.
“That’s all that can be expected of you. Just like now. You’ll do your best. I know that. Rick knows that. Shoot, even Tara knows that.” She firmly met his gaze and offered a smile so reminiscent of Tara’s that his heart ached.
“But,” she added, “if whatever’s eating at you today continues to linger, you could make one of those mistakes you’re talking about. I know how much you care for Tara, and I’m certain you don’t want that to happen.”
* * *
Tara drove down the highway. She’d placed Oren’s phone on the passenger seat and kept glancing at it to see if somehow she’d missed a text or a call with additional directions. The cell sat there silently taunting her. Worrying her.
Worry. An old friend that had been eating her alive for far too long. She looked at her rubber bands. At the marks from her frequent use. She was tired of letting the anxiety steal her peace. It was time to break up with such a noxious friend. But how, when people she loved might die?
Words came to mind from her precious aunt who’d lived through so much and remained peaceful even with a bomb around her neck. Just trust in your faith, she’d said.
Sounded easy, but it was hard. So hard. Perhaps she hadn’t actually trusted God since her parents died. Then Oren. A gunshot wound. The bombs. And now…now with June and Cal in jeopardy, the trusting became even harder. Especially since she’d encouraged Cal to head into danger without warning him. Now Oren planned to kill him.
What have I done?
Tears brimmed in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Her vision blurred, and she pulled to the side of the road to swipe at the tears and pray.
Maybe she deserved Oren’s wrath because she’d lost her patience with him and hadn’t handled rejecting him in the best way, but June and Cal didn’t. They were both good people—fine, compassionate, and caring.
She loved June. And Cal?…The terrifying ache in her heart said she loved him, too. This brave man she’d sent into danger.
She bowed her head and prayed, begging God for His intervention for both of them.
The phone rang, and she jumped.
She reached for the cell, and the air seemed to disappear in the car, so she lowered her window and let the cool night air wash over her face.
“Yes,” she answered.
“I suppose you’re wondering where I need you to go,” Oren said.
The sound of his voice sent her stomach roiling, but she swallowed hard. “I am.”
“I’ll text directions to you, and I want you to keep this call connected with me for the rest of the drive so I can monitor your actions.”
“That’s not necessary,” she said. “You have the cameras. Besides, I care about June and won’t do anything foolish.” Unlike you. “I’m not going to go anywhere else or alert anyone and risk jeopardizing her life.”
“All the same, keep us connected.”
She didn’t offer an additional argument but waited for the directions to arrive. Time ticked slowly by. Panic raised its ugly head, but she breathed it out. In with good air. Out with the stress. Again and again.
She could do this. If she focused on one step at a time and if…if she didn’t look ahead to the danger she most certainly faced.