Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trevor woke to the sound of the horn from a semi-truck that had been speeding by the building. He looked at the clock; 8:36 a.m. It was highly unusual for him to sleep so late, but when he was on leave he tended to unwind, relax, and decompress. Part of that process was to allow himself the luxury of sleeping in a little.

Dressed in only his tidy whites, he opened the bathroom door. A rush of steam fogged his vision for a few seconds. When his eyes cleared, he saw Honor through the glass shower stall, allowing the warm water to soak her hair. He watched her as she ran a soapy washcloth up and down her arms across her belly and over her breasts. He craned his neck for a better view as she bent to soap her legs.

“Are you going to just stand there, or are you coming in to wash my back?” she said without looking.

“How did you know I was here?” he asked.

She looked at him and smiled, “I have a sixth sense when it comes to you.”

Trevor returned the smile, slipped out of his underwear and stepped into the shower. Honor greeted him with a warm kiss, wrapping her arms around him. He took the soap from her and lathered his hands. She turned her back to him. He ran his soapy hands down the length of her back and began to caress her buttocks.

“Hey,” she called out. “I asked you to wash my back.”

“Oh, sorry,” he replied. “My mistake.”

Honor chuckled loudly. She turned to face him, again wrapping her arms around him, her hands caressing his waist and back. He kissed her. Honor returned the kiss, allowing his tongue to enter her mouth. The kiss caused her emotions to stir and her hands moved to the front of his hard stomach and traveled south. She smiled when she discovered he was fully perked.

An hour later they arrived at Seattle’s famous Pike Place Market, at a restaurant called Honest Biscuits. Trevor had a biscuit sandwich with Bavarian bacon. Honor had one with Beecher’s Flagship Cheese.

They casually strolled down the market where they saw the very first Starbucks ever built. They continued the market exploration and were treated to men tossing fish. Trevor didn’t quite understand why fish tossing was such an attraction in Seattle, and when he asked Honor about it, she just smiled and called him a foreigner.

They watched talented street artists creating beautiful paintings before their eyes, and incredible street musicians performing jazz, bluegrass, and American roots music.

Trevor and Honor strolled the market, hand in hand, stopping casually at virtually every chalet and shop.

Somewhere around 1:00 p.m. Trevor began to get an odd feeling. He felt as though he and Honor were being watched. He stole quick looks behind him and to the sides. For the most part he saw nothing unusual, but for a split second, he thought he spied a man looking at him, a man he may have seen earlier that same morning.

Honor was fully occupied, enjoying music from a street musician who was dressed like Bob Dylan in his Nashville Skyline days, playing “Tangled Up in Blue.”

Trevor looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of the man he thought might be watching them. He saw nothing. He tried his best to shake off the feeling but couldn’t. Honor was still smiling, still captivated by the street performer. Trevor stepped back from the crowd and called his Commanding Officer, Commander Hurt. The Commander had been deeply involved in gathering intelligence on the men who had tried to kidnap Honor two years earlier.

Hurt answered on the third ring.

“Commander,” he greeted.

“Bootstrap!” Hurt replied. “Don’t you have anything better to do while you’re on leave than to call me?”

“Yes sir,” he replied. “I mean, the reason for my call is to ask a question.”

“Fire away.”

“The group that tried to kidnap Honor two years ago--- have any of them resurfaced lately?”

“No.” Hurt said. “Why do you ask? Have you seen something?”

“Not really,” Trevor replied. “I thought just maybe, but… no, not really. I’ve just had this funny feeling all day, like I’m being watched.”

“You’re one of the best I know at catching someone who might be following you,” Hurt said. “I have a feeling if you were being followed, you’d know.”

“Well, I thought I saw someone, but I don’t know for sure. He disappeared.”

“Where are you?”

“Pike Place Market, in Seattle,” he replied.

“Boot, that’s the biggest tourist attraction in that area,” he replied. “People spend days there. Running into the same person every few hours would be common. Are you certain you were being watched?”

“No,” Trevor admitted. “I’m not sure at all. In fact, I’m wondering if I’m being paranoid. If the man I saw was watching me, he was damn good at it.”

“The only man who played any part in that kidnapping attempt who is left is Ahmet Orfali,” Hurt said. “When the kidnapping attempt was looped back to the Syrian government, they denied everything and exiled Orfali.”

“Could Orfali be working on his own?”

“He’s been on our watch list ever since the Syrian government got rid of him. He’s made many enemies. He’s been on his own and running, looking over his shoulder. We are not the only ones watching him, either. England, France, Israel… lots more. He’s been in hiding out in Turkey, mostly, but recently, he’s been reported to be in North Korea.”

“North Korea?” Trevor said. “Why the hell would Orfali be working for the North Koreans?”

“We are not certain he is,” the Commander responded. “It could be they are giving him asylum there. It seems like an unlikely marriage.”

“I’ll say.”

“But none of this connects to Chris Carpenter or you or Honor,” he continued. “Orfali is certainly a busy man, undoubtedly weaving some tangled ugliness somewhere, but none of it points your way.”

 “Does anyone know where he is right now?”

“No, but I wouldn’t worry,” Hurt said. “The Syrian government was all over themselves denying involvement in that kidnapping attempt. They would not be stupid enough to try it again. Without their resources, even if Orfali wanted to reach you or Honor in the States, he would not have the finances and backing to pull off such an endeavor.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “You’re right.”

“Think about it, Boot,” Hurt continued. “You’re away from Honor for months at a time on deployment. The FBI ceased even the most casual surveillance months ago. If someone wanted to snatch her, why would they wait until you were with her? Wouldn’t he have done it before you got to Seattle?”

The Commander had a good point, Trevor had to admit. Trevor had been over-protective of Honor since they’d met. He was becoming paranoid, looking for danger where none existed. It had been two years since the kidnapping attempt. Orfali had been expelled. Nothing had happened since.

“You’re right, sir,” he said. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

“It’s not a problem,” Hurt said. “But you shouldn’t worry, Boot. There hasn’t been any underground buzz, no activity at all around Orfali. Relax, enjoy yourself. I’ll see you in nine days.”

Trevor went back to enjoy the rest of the day with Honor. He did not sense he was being watched or followed for the remainder of the day. He chose not to mention any of his earlier feelings to Honor. He believed the feelings to be unfounded and didn’t want to worry her needlessly.

To her credit, Honor sensed all was not right with her man. After making love for the second time that day, she collapsed in his arms. He fell silent.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he lied. She sat up, glaring at him. His body was still moist from the perspiration generated from sex. Light from the fading sunset caught the dampness of his shoulders and pectorals, and caused them to glisten softly.

“It’s not you,” he insisted.

“I didn’t think it was,” she said. “Still, I know something is bothering you. Why can’t you just tell me?”

“It’s just work-related stuff,” he lied again.

“Trevor, I’m your fiancée,” she said. “I’m the one you will ride off into the sunset with. I know you want to protect me from everything in the world that’s bad, but I’m strong now. You’ve always been there for me. I want to be there for you, too. Let me in.”

He looked at this amazing woman again, and almost blurted out his initial suspicions. He again chose to hold back. Anything he said now would cause her to worry, for herself and for her father. It would put her on alert needlessly. He would be gone in just over a week, back to active duty. She didn’t need to feel afraid again, especially if there was nothing to fear.

“It’s classified,” Trevor said, lying again for the third time to the woman he loved so much. “My next mission is worrisome, not because of the danger, mind you. It just involves situations that trouble me.”

“Are women and children in danger?” she asked. “I know how protecting children in danger affects you.”

Trevor bit his lip, choosing to say nothing and allowing her to believe this was the case. He knew his silence implied yet another lie, but he wanted nothing more than to move the conversation along.

“Yeah, it’s something like that, isn’t it?” she continued. “Trevor, I’m so sorry. The people you will save have no idea how lucky they will be to have you on their side.”

He nodded slowly, hating himself for his inability to manage the situation truthfully.

Satisfied, Honor lay beside him again. He wrapped his powerful arm around her. She felt comforted. Within five minutes she began to breathe deeply, falling asleep in his arms. Trevor remained awake for another half hour before falling asleep himself.