It was the first supper Drake Conway had eaten at home in over two months and he smiled lovingly at his wife, wanting to treasure every second of the idyllic moment. Who knew when he would be granted such an opportunity again? He was already taking a major risk being there that night.
No one knew where he was; he had violated protocol to see his family and the consequences of such a blatant disregard for the rules could be devastating.
Drake shoved the dark thoughts from his mind, turning his attention back to Shirley and the boys.
I deserve to be a normal man for one night, he reasoned. I have earned it.
“Darling, these potatoes are melting on my tongue,” Drake announced, and Shirley smiled beguilingly, placing her elbows on the table as she eyed her husband.
“I put in a special ingredient,” she confessed, winking a light blue eye at him. “It’s like I sensed you coming home today and knew I needed to make them extra special.”
Drake grinned, a surreal quality overtaking him as he looked around the mahogany table. It was difficult to reconcile Major Drake Conway, Department of Defence Special Forces with Drake Conway, husband, father and fantasy football player.
They are two completely different people. I don’t even know if they would like one another if they were to meet, Drake thought wryly. He wondered if Bob next door would recognize him in his suit and official standing.
“I no like potatoes!” three-year-old Xavier declared, pushing his fork about the plate in disgust, and the one-year old twins babbled in agreement. They smashed their tiny fists against the plastic trays of their high chairs, sending a spray of mashed vegetables all about the elegant dining room.
Shirley sighed but before she could answer, Ryder interjected.
“I don’t like potatoes,” he corrected his younger brother. Xavier shook his head.
“No,” he insisted. “I no like them!”
Drake grimaced slightly and turned to his middle son.
“Your mother worked very hard on this dinner, Xavier,” he chided. “You should be thanking her, not criticizing her cooking.”
“Drake,” Shirley laughed, rising to take the three-year-old’s plate from him. “He doesn’t know what that word means. Sometimes I think you forget how small they are.”
Drake glanced at Xavier and they exchanged a private smile.
“I don’t know, honey,” he replied, winking at the boy. “I don’t think you give them enough credit sometimes. Children are like sponges.”
Shirley chuckled as she stepped into the kitchen.
“I wish they were like mops,” she joked, disappearing with the dishes. “This house is in a perpetual state of chaos with all the testosterone coursing through it.”
Drake laughed merrily at her assessment.
“I suppose we need to try for a girl then,” he called back to her. “Even out the hormones in here.”
Shirley scoffed but didn’t answer, leaving Drake alone with his boys.
As if he had issued a silent command, all four boys turned their attention on Drake in unison, their fussing forgotten.
The twins, Xander and Aiden stared up at him from their elevated chairs with pale green eyes, an identical pair shining with infant innocence.
Xavier pressed his face into his folded hands, mushing his chubby cheeks as he studied his father inquisitively while Ryder seemed intent on watching Drake closely.
My sons, Drake thought, his heart filled with the proud beat which only a father could understand. I hope you know how much you mean to me. I will always protect you.
As if comprehending his silent tribute, they nodded almost imperceivably and returned to their supper as Shirley re-entered the room.
The bond they shared was beyond that of simply father and sons; it was more powerful, ethereal.
“Dessert!” the lovely redhead announced, placing a cherry pie on the center of the table.
“I no like dessert!” Xavier exclaimed, and his parents laughed.
“Perfect!” Drake declared. “More for us!”
Shirley pulled a knife out and began to cut the pie in pieces and Drake was suddenly overcome with a sense that he had been there before, an eerie sense of déjà vu prickling through him.
No! he thought, his heart beginning to thud dangerously in his chest.
A strange feeling began to emanate through Drake and time slowed as he watched the scene unfolding before him.
Fear gripped his heart and he backed up his chair, rising to his feet as the doorbell rang.
“Who could that be?” Shirley asked, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner.
Drake opened his mouth to respond, panic sweeping over his body as he reached for the twins, snatching them from their chairs. Instantly, they began to wail in protest as their father kicked over the table.
“Don’t answer it!” he cried out as his wife hurried toward the front door. She turned to stare at him in stunned surprise.
It was too late.
The door flew inward and they filed in, like a swarm of buzzards on a corpse. Their leader smiled coldly at Drake, while raising his weapon and pointing it towards Shirley. The man fired once between his wife’s eyes, ending her scream before it had a chance to start.
Drake had no chance to think, only react, throwing the twins into Ryder’s arms as he scooped Xavier from his chair.
Their wailing filled his ears as he reached into his ankle holster and began firing at the half dozen men dressed only in black.
His bullets did not slow them, and they drew closer as the children took cover beneath the buffet, quaking in fear.
When the first round hit him, Drake’s only thought was that it was his fault. He had brought a plague on his house when he had been warned time and again about the consequences.
His shoulder was on fire, but he did not stop pulling the trigger again and again, hoping to take out at least one of them.
One less of them is one less threat, he told himself as more ammunition riddled his body, but he knew he was outnumbered and outsmarted.
He had lied to his sons.
He could not protect them. He had unwittingly brought danger directly to their doorstep.
Oculus had finally found them.
And the children would never be safe again.