Chapter Fourteen

Liz still didn’t quite understand the difference between the Naval Special Warfare Command and the Naval Special Warfare Center, but she knew she was in Coronado, California. She’d always loved this area of the United States. Coronado…San Diego…Pacific Ocean…everything needed for a great vacation. Only one problem—this wasn’t a vacation.

Changing from the rescue helicopter to the jet in Dallas had been quick. Reese had headed in one direction. She and Mitch, the other. The jet had certainly been a faster ride.

Before they landed, Mitch assured her she was completely safe at the NSWC base. And, from what she could see—the firepower, boats, aviation, and the military personnel—she had no doubt.

The moment the chopper had landed in the middle of the night and they disembarked, Mitch had taken on a different swagger. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but she prided herself on reading people. He stood a bit taller, straightened his shoulders a notch, and his walk took on a rhythmic manner that said, with or without a uniform, “I belong here.”

She’d even lifted her chin and stretched her gait to keep up with his, just to be part of the shine that had encircled him the second his feet had touched ground. She’d never seen someone so much in their element.

“There’s a theater close to here,” Mitch said. “How about a movie this afternoon? Give you something different to think about.”

“Sometimes I don’t do well in movie theaters.” She bit the side of her lip, struggling to tamp down the tinge of fear. “Too dark and confined.”

“Are you okay sleeping in the dark?”

She nodded. “That doesn’t bother me. Neither does a dark house or a million other things. But there’s just something about a movie theater that doesn’t sit well with me. There has to be some kind of connection between that and the safe room my dad put my mother and me in when CT came.”

“Don’t worry. I hate being in a mini-mart late at night. Everybody’s got something.” Mitch’s nonchalant tone let her know there was no harm in what she felt.

Walking down the hallway to the barrack’s sleeping room Mitch had arranged for them, she realized they would be sharing. He’d told her there would be two beds. Sounded okay to her. All she wanted was a shower and some sleep in a nice safe place. Like here and now and two beds in a room.

He opened the door and motioned her in. “I’ve requested a guard outside while I’m gone.”

“Gone? Why are you leaving me here?” Surely he hadn’t brought her all the way to the West Coast just to hand her off to another protector. She bit her lower lip to keep from asking him to stay. Even more so to keep from making a fool of herself.

“I need to make some phone calls and pick up clean clothes. I won’t be gone long.” He handed her a paper with a couple of phone numbers. “Call either of these shops and tell them what you need in the way of…clothes…and whatever else you might need. Just give them your name and they’ll deliver them. I’ve set it up for them to bill me.”

“Seeing that it’s still technically nighttime, they may not be open yet.”

He raked his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Hadn’t thought of that. Leave them a message to call back pronto when they open.”

This was more than she had expected. “Thank you. I must admit it would be nice to clean up.”

“You’ll be safe while I’m gone, so take a shower. Try to get that camo out of your hair. And get some sleep.”

“When will you be back?”

“Soon.” He quirked the side of his mouth. “Don’t worry, I’ll try not to wake you when I come in.” Pointing back and forth between the beds, he said. “Take whichever one you want.”

Quiet seemed to weigh heavy in the air, then he turned toward the door. Then back around.

Walking to her, he pulled a sealed envelope from his jacket. “Drake said to give you this when we got to someplace safe.”

She lightly slipped her fingers under the flap and peeled it open. As she unfolded the letter, she scanned the first few words of print, blinked, and went quickly to the bottom to see Drake’s signature.

Blowing out a soft sigh through her lips, she folded the letter back into thirds. “When did he give this to you?”

“Right before I got on the chopper.”

“Do you know what it is?”

Mitch shook his head. “Not a clue. Anyhow, I’m going to head on out and—”

“Please don’t. Not yet.” She held the letter out to him. “Judging from the first few words, I don’t think I can do this alone. So, I’d appreciate if you read the letter to me. Out loud. Please.”

A look of doubt crossed his face as he took the pages and unfolded them. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep this between you and Drake?”

She shook her head. “No. We’re all in this together, anyhow. This could be just one more piece of the puzzle. Read it.”

Mitch nodded. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

Liz,

Are you my daughter? Short answer is—I don’t know.

I’d hoped to explain in person, but just in case all hell blows up before we get a chance, I want you to know that I loved your mother, and I think she loved me. But she had fears that overcame her love. My job in law enforcement was more than she could face. Having been an orphan, she was terrified of ever being alone again. The last time we talked was on the phone. She said she couldn’t live with the idea that some night the doorbell would ring and the policemen at the door would tell her she was a widow. Said she couldn’t chance putting a child through that. Said a child should have a mother and a father. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what she was talking about.

Looking back, maybe she was trying to tell me she was pregnant with my child. Maybe not. I’ll never know. Was it possible? Yes.

Finally, she explained how she planned to go into the Witness Protection Program with our mutual friend Russ. Said that way he’d at least have part of a past with him. She refused to see me before they left, and I never talked to her again.

Close to four years later, she snuck a letter out through WPP. Said she had a three-year-old daughter. Said she had my smile. Said her name was Elizabeth Irene Walkert. My mother’s name was Irene. She sent a photo of her daughter celebrating her birthday with cake and ice cream. A pretty little girl who looked a lot like my sister when she was young. That was the only letter your mother ever sent me. And when I snuck one to her, it was sent back unopened.

So you see, I really don’t know if you’re my daughter. I often wondered. I’d be proud if you were. When this is all over, we can find out for sure with tests. But only if you want to know. Your mother and I had our time. Made our choices. In the end, though, the most important part of our story is you.

Only you—the pretty little girl celebrating her birthday with cake and ice cream.

Drake

PS—Don’t think badly of your mother. Fear can be a life-altering phenomenon. She did the best she could with her fear. I loved her then—I love her now.

“That’s all there is.” Mitch refolded the letter and handed it back.

Liz sat on the side of the bed and reread the words. By the end, tears were streaming down her face. “Do you know the details of how and why WPP became my dad Russ’s option?”

“Only what Drake told me when he gave me the assignment.”

“I’d like to know.”

Mitch sat down beside her and told her everything he knew of the specifics. And answered questions on WPP when she asked. A heaviness settled deep inside her. One she’d need to make peace with before she decided whether she wanted paternity tests.

“Thank you,” she said. “I think I’m ready for that shower.”

“Sounds good. We’ll eat later.” He opened the door of the small sleeping room. “The next few days will be mainly travel. May not be much time to rest, so you need to get some sleep.”

She should try to be more like him and grab a catnap every so often. But when she tried his whole cross his arms, lean his head back against something, and close his eyes routine, it didn’t do a thing to help her sleep. Without a doubt, having this day of rest would do wonders for her mind and body.

After her shower, she ate the breakfast he’d brought back for her. He’d left a small note reminding her there was a guard outside the door. Finally, she climbed in bed and snuggled under the covers. She wanted to stop thinking about the letter. About being chased by CT. About the future. All she wanted was to sleep.

Hours later, she woke up. She’d slept right through lunch.

Now, as she strolled to dinner with Mitch, he pointed out places he thought would be of interest to her. And when she’d mentioned feeling cooped up the past few days, he stretched out the walk by taking a different pathway, extending their time outside. He had no idea how much she appreciated that gesture. Of feeling safe with the light breeze against her skin.

With the evening air cooling off and the base feeling as if it were a place shutting down after a stressful day, he seemed more laid-back. Took slower steps. Sometimes didn’t talk, just highlighted something for her to see as their walk lengthened.

“You love this place,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“I get the feeling this is your true world. Am I right?”

“Partly. To me, this is more than just where I became a SEAL.” He smiled. “When I no longer had anywhere to be part of, the Navy became my home. Training replaced the gym. Mess halls, a place for Thanksgiving dinner. Most important, SEALS will always be my family. Just like OPAQUE’s a family for me.”

She might have had a mother and dad, but she’d never really had a family. Never had a group of people—grandparents, great-grands, aunts, uncles, cousins, or others—who she could always count on. “Part of me envies you, Mitch.”

“Me? Why?”

“You made your family. Found your tribe, so to speak. And, no matter what happens, you’re happy knowing they’ve got your back.” She’d give her whole career to have that peacefulness. “So, why did you leave this for OPAQUE?”

“Was just time for a change. Time to take care of some situations affecting people more personally. Same job. Different feel. Besides, OPAQUE’s a family for me, too.”

“Being part of a family is important to you, yet you haven’t seen yours in years. Why?”

He didn’t answer. Just kept walking.

“Okay, I get that you don’t plan to answer my question.” She shrugged. “I’m not trying to be nosy. It’s just the journalist in me, always wanting to know why.”

Looking perplexed, he stopped and faced her. Scrunched his brow, shrugged, and sighed. “What you need to understand…is that you ask a lot of questions. And…in my case…some don’t have answers.”

That had been honest, and she couldn’t fault him. There were probably things in life she had no answers for. And not just regarding this case, either.

He glanced westward. “You want to see something beautiful?”

“Sure.”

“Come on.” He started into a slow jog, setting a pace she could keep up with.

At an outcrop of rocks just up from the water’s edge, he started climbing. Reaching back, he held out his hand and she took hold, letting him guide her up the gray stones one at a time. A couple places he used both hands to hoist her up. Suddenly, they stood on the top, and the golds and oranges, reds and purples of sunset glowed in the distance. Warmly, the final rays of sunshine stretched back to embrace the two of them.

“This is…beautiful. More than beautiful,” she said.

“I used to come here to find myself at the end of a hard day. Sometimes there were more hard than easy days. But this sunset could always make things better.” He stepped behind her, embracing her, pulling her close. “Feels nice to finally share this with someone.”

Realizing just how important this moment between them was, she leaned against him. Basking in his scent and warmth, she relished the rhythm of his chest as his breaths floated against her. “I’ll never forget this.”

“Neither will I. Not ever.” His lips caressed her ear. “Liz, I…”

She arched her neck against his mouth, letting herself hope he felt what she needed. Anything that would let her know he thought of her as more than a client. Anything. Lifting her face as she turned in his arms, he lowered his mouth toward hers. She licked her lips for a second before he kissed her. Gentle, yet sure. She’d never forget that, either.

…

Morning had come early, and Mitch had made sure he was quiet as he rolled out of his bed. Across the room in her own bed, Liz had still been sleeping, so he’d showered and dressed before waking her up. Last night’s sunset kiss had been just that, nothing else. He wasn’t stupid enough to make an all-out pass while hunkered down in military housing. There were some lines he didn’t cross.

For the past half hour, he’d waited in the barrack hallway. Thinking. Planning. Talking. Liz came out of the room just as he finished a conversation with an acquaintance.

“Good morning,” she said.

“About time you got up.” As he took the tote bag from her, he couldn’t believe how fresh and alive she looked today. “You ready to go?”

“Sure. Who was that you were talking to?”

He grinned. “Believe it or not, one of my old training instructors heard I was on base and stopped by to see how I was doing. We just finished up telling truths and lies.”

She smiled in return. “That’s nice. Really nice.”

“Yeah. It was good to see him. Funny thing, he said there’s a hot-shot recruit in training right now that reminded him a lot of me. Even has the last name of Granger.” Mitch shook his head. “He thought it might be my brother.”

She stopped. “Your brother’s here? On base? Do we have time for you to see him?”

“No way it’s him. My brother Jeremy’s back in Indiana.”

“How do you know?”

“Because every month I send the university the money to cover his tuition, books, and anything else he needs. They cash the checks. He thinks he got a full-ride scholarship. And nobody’s the wiser.”

Through the years, Mitch had made the same arrangement with each of his siblings’ college choices. He might have had to get his degree while serving his country, but they’d all start their lives free and clear of any obligations.

They exited the building and headed toward the airfield. He kept up a strong pace, but she stayed right with him. Today wasn’t like yesterday’s downtime. Today was get-your-ass-in-gear-and-move-out time.

She stared straight ahead. “You’re as bossy and controlling as my dad Russ. He used to always try telling me what, where, and when.”

“Control? I don’t control people. What do you mean?”

She shot him a duh look and huffed out a sigh. “If I have to explain it, you wouldn’t understand.”

And, welcome to another day of protector-client sarcasm. Just when he thought they’d made progress, she’d come out swinging with trying to understand him. Well, she didn’t understand him. Never would. And, he wasn’t about to help her learn.

He picked up the pace, but when she struggled to keep up, he slowed a bit.

“Sorry about last night,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. Won’t happen again.” He glanced across the tarmac and headed toward their chopper ride. “This is a busy area. Watch your step.”

She followed a couple steps behind him. “I probably shouldn’t have kissed you, either. But I don’t regret one second of it.”

For a moment, he felt the touch of her fingers against his back. What the hell was wrong with him? Just when he thought he’d figured himself out, life screwed with his mind and threw him a curve ball. Once again, he needed to face that, mixed in with being a man, he was sometimes a gentleman. Sometimes an ass—an all-out go-for-broke ass. For the most part, though, he had no fucking idea who he was. Or, why he acted…like an ass sometimes.

“Funny thing…” He stopped and waited for her to step up beside him, then he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I don’t regret it, either.”

“Granger! Double time over here.” His old training instructor’s voice rang out across the tarmac. “Now!”

Mitch motioned Liz to stay where she was then headed toward his instructor. Off to his left, he saw another man double-timing in the same direction. Same height. Same build. Same gait. Jeremy…his brother Jeremy.

They both arrived in front of his old instructor, who looked smug and proud of himself. “You two need to talk.” The instructor nodded, then walked away. “Now!”

Mitch grabbed his brother’s arm. “What the hell are you doing here?’

Jeremy responded with a raised fist. “Was this your idea?”

“Not likely. You’re supposed to be in Indiana at college.”

“Shows how much you know. I graduated last semester.” His brother lowered his hand.

Mitch couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So, whose tuition am I paying?”

“The same deserving student you’ve been paying for all along. And I hope you don’t stop, because he still has a semester to go.”

Standing on a tarmac, learning he was paying tuition for someone he didn’t even know, ranked right up with one of the craziest mornings Mitch had ever had. “How did you get through college without my help?”

“I worked and saved and took out loans and enlisted.” Jeremy braced his hands on his waist and laughed. “I don’t want your money. You want me to say thanks? Then, thanks. Thanks for mailing a gift card when I graduated high school. Thanks for sending presents every Christmas, when all we wanted was to see you. And, thanks for never being there when I had a question about life. Thanks for not a damn thing. I don’t need your control, Mitch. I can take care of myself.”

In less than an hour two people had said the word “control” to him. “I never wanted thanks. I just didn’t want you all to have to go through what I had in life. You all deserve better.”

“What about you? What do you deserve?” Jeremy glanced at the ground. “Think about it, did you really think our aunt wouldn’t tell us why you left years ago? Or that you sent money all the time? Or that you’d make sure we all got through college? Think about it.”

All these years, Mitch had thought about how much his family needed him. How he needed to keep them going in life. Help them find their way. But he’d never wanted them to know. He’d never wanted any of the credit. He’d simply been fulfilling his promise to their dad.

Liz strode up to the two men. “The chopper pilot says we have to go.”

Mitch nodded. Jeremy took a few steps in the opposite direction.

“That’s it? That’s all we’ve got to say after all these years?” Mitch asked.

His brother turned and kept walking backward. “That’s it, bro. Hell Week’s coming, and I’ve got a life to live. You need to get one, too.”

Jeremy turned and jogged away.

“I take it that’s your brother,” Liz said.

“Yeah.” Mitch took her arm, guiding her toward the chopper.

“And he’s not in Indiana.”

“No.”

She pulled out of his hold, stopped, and stared at him. “Your brother’s here, Mitch. He’s in SEAL training. Gonna go through Hell Week. Think about it. What do you need to do for him?”

If one more person told him to think about something, Mitch felt like he might explode.

Mitch raced across the tarmac and adjoining field to partly catch up with his brother. “Jeremy! Watch out for the hypothermia.”

His brother stopped, turned. Shot him a go-to-hell look. “What?”

“Watch out for the hypothermia. It’s a killer.” Mitch’s idea of motivation might not jive with what others considered appropriate, but he knew what his brother needed. “I’d sure hate to be the SEAL whose little brother couldn’t make it through Hell Week.”

Jeremy turned and jogged away. “Fuck you!”

Racing back to the tarmac, Mitch noticed his old instructor standing at the edge of the tree line. Mitch raised his arm straight up. “Hooyah!”

The instructor responded in kind.

“Come on, Mitch.” Liz shouted. “Chopper’s leaving. Move your sorry ass.”

Motivation was taking on strange forms today, but hell, this might be a day he’d never forget. He charged to the chopper and hoisted himself inside. Damn, he loved this base. This life. Missed it, too. Maybe he should find another place to love.

Like a house with a pool and a view and—fortress-like security with bulletproof windows. He leaned back, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes. He knew exactly where they were going. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner?