Chapter 19
Three weeks in Syria was long enough. The country was in freaking turmoil and much of Aleppo had been shelled by air strikes. Between rebels fighting to topple the regime and ISIS headquartered only three hours away, Logan couldn’t wait to get the hell out. Watching good Syrian lives being destroyed, their homes blown up, and their children killed, made him sick to his stomach.
He was hot, tired, dirty, and stiff after lying on a rooftop for six hours, positioned to take his shot. Their target, Jadidi Ahmad, was dead and their mission accomplished. According to their intel, Ahmad had been planning a second round of deadly barrel attacks on opposition neighborhoods, even though the UN had called for an end to the strikes. Nicknamed “barrels of death,” the bombs were crudely made out of oil drums and packed with explosives and shrapnel. Government operatives dropped them from Syrian military helicopters to quell the uprising. Instead of subduing the revolutionaries, the arbitrary attacks created three colossal problems: a refugee crisis, a recruitment bonanza for ISIS, and the indiscriminate deaths of thousands of civilians.
Ahmad, a slippery mofo, had managed to evade them since they’d gotten to Aleppo. But Logan had learned that the Syrian official had a woman on the edge of town. Between random killings of his own countrymen, he liked to get laid on Tuesdays and Thursdays. A week ago, they began scouting out the area where his paramour lived, looking for opportunities to map out a well-laid plan.
The mission had turned out to be ridiculously easy, because stupid Ahmad made his booty calls under the protection of only two guards. Apparently, he didn’t want word of his philandering to get back to his wife.
His two goons waited outside the house while Ahmad did his business. As soon as he was done, they met him at the front door and hustled him into a car. Except this time when Ahmad came out of the house, Logan was on the rooftop of a building across the street with a bead on him. One shot and their tango went down for the count. The guards, poorly trained if you asked Logan, ran for cover while the area erupted in pandemonium. Logan managed to scramble down the building undetected in the chaos. Gabe and Frank tossed a few flashbangs into the mix, creating even more confusion. Amir used the opportunity to slip in, make the death verification, and snap a few pictures.
They were back at the safe house at 1600 hours and ready to get the hell out of Aleppo.
“Well done.” Gabe doled out high-fives. “We’ve got fifteen minutes to get to the LZ. Let’s move it.”
They cleared out of the safe house without a minute to spare, leaving no trace of themselves behind, and drove to the extraction point, fifteen miles outside of town. There, two operatives took their vehicles while they boarded a plane to the good ole U. S. of A. It was about a fifteen-hour flight, enough time to catch up on three weeks of sporadic sleep. They’d arrive in San Diego at ten p.m., the same day.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going straight to Alberto’s for a carne asada burrito when we get home,” Amir said. The string of taco shops was legendary in San Diego.
“I’m in,” Gabe seconded. “God, I miss American food.”
There was a burst of laughter from the rest of the men.
“What?” Gabe asked, and made Logan smile.
Everyone settled in for the long ride home. Logan would’ve liked to have turned on his personal cell to see if there was any news from home, specifically from Annie. Barely an hour went by when he didn’t think of her: What she was doing, who she was with, whether she’d gotten the property she wanted. It had been murder not being able to pick up the phone to call her or send a text. But as teammates, they’d made a rule that they’d wait until touchdown on American soil before using personal phones because they were traceable. And none of them was supposed to be anywhere near Syria in the first place.
For all he knew Annie had moved on. Written him off as a mere fling.
He bundled his jacket against the window to use as a pillow, shut his eyes, and tried to sleep. It was difficult. He was still high from the adrenaline rush of the mission. There had been so much hurry up and wait, that when he’d finally taken out the target all that pent-up energy took over. Everything in him was still thrumming, yet all he could do was think about Annie.
He missed her so much that it physically hurt. Frankly, by now, he thought his infatuation with her would’ve waned. That whole thing of out of sight, out of mind. But it seemed to be just the opposite. The more he was away from her, the more he thought about her . . . the more the idea of her living in that old run-down farmhouse with someone else gnawed at him.
At 39,000 feet, Gabe sank into the seat next to him. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“How’d you think it went and what did you think of Frank and Amir?” he asked, his voice low.
They were both former SEALs who’d been on a different team from Logan and Gabe.
“The target is dead and we’re”—Logan looked at his watch—“fourteen hours away from getting burritos. So I’d say it went pretty well. I like Frank and Amir. The ex-jarhead, not so much.”
Logan usually liked Marines. They were tough, fearless, and carried their own weight. But Calvin Cooper bugged the crap out of him. He was a braggart and in Logan’s opinion, lazy. And laziness in their business could get you killed. Besides, he was a public nail clipper. Logan was sure he had plenty of disgusting habits, but cutting his nails at the table while people were eating wasn’t one of them.
“Notice I didn’t ask you about Cooper?” Gabe said. “He’s definitely out. But I could truck with Frank and Amir.”
Logan nodded. “They’re good guys. We got anything else on the roster?”
“Are you kidding? After this our dance card should be full for a good, long time. When are you getting your money? We need those offices like yesterday, a website, business cards, not to mention pricey equipment. Uncle won’t be providing planes, trains, and automobiles for our jobs in the private sector.”
“I’ll check back with the lawyer as soon as we’re home.”
“You gonna move your girl to San Diego?” Gabe asked.
“Nah. She’s working on her PhD at Davis and she makes her living farming. What made you think she was moving in with me?”
“Because you practically call out her name in your sleep. You’ve got it bad, Jenk, and I’d hate for it to become a distraction.”
“It won’t.”
“Plenty of women in San Diego.”
None of them were Annie. Not even close. “Yup. You think you could let me sleep now or did you want to cuddle up with me?”
Gabe chuckled and looked around the plane. Cooper was stretched across three seats, snoring his head off. Amir was doing a crossword puzzle—said it helped him relax. Logan couldn’t tell what Frank was up to because he had his jacket over his face, probably sleeping or trying to.
By the time Logan got into a real bed, it was midnight. They’d landed without a hitch, hitting Alberto’s on the way to Coronado. Cooper had skipped out on dinner to drive the hour to Oceanside. No loss there. He, Frank, and Amir had wolfed down their burritos in Gabe’s big-ass SUV before being dropped off at their respective apartments. Logan lived with Gabe, so they’d been the last home.
Too tired to shower, he’d gone straight to sleep. Jet-lagged, he didn’t wake up until the following evening.
“Let’s go to McPatrick’s,” Gabe said.
He was starved and there was nothing to eat in the apartment. “Yeah, okay. Let me jump in the shower.”
After he got dressed they walked over to the pub and sat outside on the patio. It was a typical San Diego night—perfect. A nice sea breeze tempered the heat. He and Gabe ordered burgers and beers. A few people they knew from the base stopped by their table to say hello.
“Haven’t seen you around lately,” said a helicopter pilot Logan knew.
“I’ve been in Northern California, working on a ranch up there.” Logan didn’t need to get into the details about his dead biological father or that the ranch had been in his family for generations.
After the pilot left, Gabe said, “Check out that table of lovelies over there. What do you say we introduce ourselves?”
“Go ahead. I’ll wait for our food.”
A short time later, a waitress appeared with their orders. And as it turned out, the women from the neighboring table came over to them. Logan popped a fry in his mouth, letting Gabe enjoy the ladies.
“You guys are SEALs, aren’t you?” the blonde said, and helped herself to one of the extra chairs at the table.
“What gave it away?” Gabe asked.
“Your sunglasses, diver’s watches, and take-no-prisoners attitude.” She leaned over just enough so he and Gabe could get a nice peek of her cleavage.
Logan made a mental note to ditch the Gatorz and get some Ray-Bans. The watch was just a crappy Casio he’d bought for fifty bucks at Target. The brunette grabbed a seat next to Logan and tossed her hair and giggled a lot. The truth was they were very attractive women and once upon a time he would’ve been interested. But next to Annie they didn’t shine. Not even a little bit.
Logan ate while Gabe regaled the ladies with warrior talk. He was a smooth dog, no doubt about that. The brunette tried to engage him but he wanted to head back to the apartment where he’d left his phone and see if he had any messages from Annie. He wanted to let his mom and Nick know he was okay.
“You taking off?” Gabe asked while Logan rifled through his wallet and put a couple bills on the table.
“Yeah. I’ve got calls to make. Nice meeting you ladies.”
As he walked away he heard Gabe tell the women that he had a girlfriend, which he didn’t. He didn’t even know if Annie was still talking to him. At home, he found his cell in his seabag buried under a mound of dirty clothes. Doing a load of laundry would probably be good. He turned on the phone and waited for it to boot up and everything to load. He’d apparently gotten a lot of messages in three weeks.
His mother had sent him seven texts and three e-mails, which wasn’t like her. He didn’t bother reading any of them and just called her.
“Mom, everything okay? Where’s Nick?” Logan’s stepdad was clutch in a crisis.
“He’s here. We’re fine. But I was getting concerned when I didn’t hear from you.”
“You’ve gone months without hearing from me.”
“I know, but with us on the road . . . I worry.”
“I’m home. Everything is good.”
She knew better than to ask any questions about where he’d been or what he’d been doing. Having a son and a husband who’d both been operators, she understood the world better than most.
“I’m glad,” she said.
“Where are you?”
“We’re in Tennessee. Tomorrow we’re going to Nashville.”
“That should be fun. Send me a T-shirt.”
They talked for a while and his mom put Nick on. He didn’t ask too many questions but Nick didn’t have to. He knew the drill.
After Nick hung up, Logan listened to his voice mail. Cardo left word that the court had granted Flynn, the executor of Ray’s estate, permission to pay off any of the old man’s outstanding debts. After that, his heirs would get their bequests.
The last message was from Annie.
“Logan, I’m so sorry I missed you. I don’t know if you’ll get this—if you’ll even be able see your texts—or your e-mails for that matter. God, I have so many things I want to say to you—things I should’ve said before you left but didn’t want to make you feel guilty for leaving. I love you, Logan. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I know what’s in my heart. And I love you, heart and soul. You’re under absolutely no obligation to love me back and I understand that you’ve trained hard for the life you’ve chosen and it’s important for the world to have a person with your skills doing what you do. And even if I never see you again, you have to come home safe and sound. You just have to. I love you.”
The words knocked the wind out of him and he sat on the edge of the bed. I love you. When put together, they were the three biggest words in the English language. Too big to throw around, not that he believed Annie was being casual about it. She’d clearly given it a lot of thought or she wouldn’t have waited to tell him.
You’re under absolutely no obligation to love me back.
The very idea of it scared the shit out of him. If he’d ever allowed himself to think about it, he knew he loved her too. He thought about her constantly and felt like she was part of him. But what were they supposed to do with that? They lived on opposite ends of a very large state. Their vocations couldn’t be more different: She made things grow, he made things die. She was sweet, good, and kind. He was tough, hard, and mean. And besides his mother, he’d never in his life spoken of love to another soul. Not even to Nick.
It seemed to him that Annie’s declaration of love complicated an already untenable situation. He had to think about it before responding. Yet, it was cruel not to let her know that he had arrived home safely. So he sent off a quick text.
Just got in. Exhausted. Have to sleep. Will call you later.
Not quite a lie, not quite the truth either, which made him feel like an asshat.
He started to fill a basket with his dirty clothes to take to the laundry room when his phone rang. It was probably Annie and although he needed a little time to process, he ached to hear her voice.
He swiped the phone off the couch and answered, “Jenkins.”
“Logan?” Definitely not Annie, but a female’s voice.
“Who is this?”
There was a long enough silence that he was about to hang up, assuming it was either a prank or some chick he’d met before meeting Annie.
“It’s Raylene.”
He jerked in surprise. What the hell did she want? “You calling to tell me you filed another lawsuit against me?”
“No.” Her voice was so faint he could barely hear her.
“What do you want, Raylene?”
“I left him. Butch.” She sniffled, and he thought she might be crying.
He took his spot on the edge of the bed again. “You okay?”
“Not really. I’m a mess . . . the truth is I’ve always been a mess.”
She had to be if she was calling him. He’d kind of gotten the impression that she hated his guts. “Why you telling me this, Raylene?”
“Because you’re the one who told me to leave him.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I told you to watch your back, get your own lawyer. I never said anything about you leaving him. I don’t even know you or anything about your damn marriage.”
She was crying now, wracking sobs that stabbed him in the gut. “You think I should’ve stayed with him, then?”
No. How the hell would he know? “Only you can decide that, Raylene.”
“You said he was trying to take my money.”
In so many words he might’ve said that. “Do you think he was trying to take your money?”
“Yes . . . I don’t know. But he cheated on me . . . multiple times.”
He could barely understand her; she was bawling so hard. “I’m sorry, Raylene. That sucks. So it sounds like you did the right thing.” Gotta go now.
“I got my own lawyer, like you said I should.” He’d had three short and mostly angry conversations with her in his entire life; how had he suddenly become her advisor?
“That’s good,” he said.
“Butch isn’t going to get a dime of my money.”
“Even better.” This was the strangest conversation he’d ever had.
“Logan?”
“Hmm?” He checked his watch. That laundry wasn’t going to get clean by itself.
“Can you help me move my stuff out of the house?”
Uh, no. Don’t you live somewhere in Colorado? And are you trying to set me up?
She sniffled. “I’m . . . a little bit afraid of him.”
Ah, Jesus Christ. She knew right where he was vulnerable. Weak person in need, call Logan Jenkins.
“When?” He couldn’t believe he was asking, but they were blood after all. Half-siblings.
“As soon as you can. I’m staying at a hotel and want to put everything in storage before he changes the locks.”
He silently groaned. “Let me check for flights. Denver, right?”
“Yes. I could pick you up at the airport.”
“I’ll get back to you.” He hung up and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Who were you on the phone with?” Gabe popped his head inside Logan’s bedroom.
Logan tried to look around him. “You alone?”
“Yep. But I got her number.” Gabe held up his phone and grinned like the devil. A horny devil. “Why are you checking flights?”
“My half-sister needs help leaving her husband. I’m going to Colorado tomorrow.”
“The half-sister who tried to steal your inheritance, the one you’ve known for like forty-five seconds?”
“That would be the one. I’m an idiot and it’s probably a total setup, but she said he was violent.”
“I’ll go with you,” Gabe said. “Since we’re in between projects, I’ve got nothing else better to do.”
“You wouldn’t rather chase blondes?” Blondes were Gabe’s weakness. “Because I don’t need your help.”
“Yeah, but this sounds like fun.”
It sounded like hell to Logan. “Whatever, dude. Be ready to fly out first thing tomorrow.”