Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90769 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90769 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
And so, later that year, I’d be going back to med school. But that still left the question of where we’d live.
A few days later, though, our second visitor showed up. This one arrived at the motel in a black SUV and when I saw it through the window I immediately grabbed Cal’s arm, thinking of the club, even though I knew they were all in custody.
But this SUV was different. Red and blue lights flashed from within the front grille. And when the men inside climbed out, they weren’t wannabe-military thugs in black combat fatigues. These men had crisp black suits and sunglasses, and earpieces in their ears. The sort of men you see on TV, ushering the president to his car.
Two more men emerged from the rear. One of them was in a smart gray suit, the other in a leather jacket and jeans. But both had the same look: black hair and blue eyes and there was something in their features, in the heavy, dark brows and hard jawline. Something European, something that made me think of cold winds whipping across unyielding dark rock. They could almost have been brothers. Cal, Rufus and I met them at the door.
The one in the suit approached slowly, the other one hanging back. Cal stepped in front of me, silently protective. But Rufus pushed past us, trotted over to the stranger and sniffed at him, then nuzzled his hand, and Cal and I relaxed because that was always a good sign.
“Cal Whittaker?” asked the man. His accent was American but each consonant had been skimmed with a brush dipped in silver. Scottish? No, not quite….
“Who’s asking?” rumbled Cal. The man was big but he still had to look up to meet Cal’s eyes, and Cal glowered down at him suspiciously. I put my hand on Cal’s warm bicep: Easy. And Cal gradually relaxed. After so long alone and being intimidating to push people away, it was going to take him a while to master people skills. But he was learning.
“Kian O’Harra,” said the man, his voice gentle. I finally locked down his accent. Irish. “And I’m not here to cause you any trouble. I just admire what you did and how you handled yourself.”
I frowned. “I know you,” I said slowly. “I saw you on TV. That thing with the President’s daughter.”
Cal glanced at me, then looked at Kian, shocked. That was him? It had been a huge news story a few years ago. As evidenced by the fact that even Cal had heard about it, even though he only saw a newspaper once every three or four months.
“I’ve been reading your file,” said Kian. “Wilderness survival expert, stealthy, great marksman...I was wondering if you’d be interested in a job.”
Cal shook his head. “Don’t want to do any more tours.” His arm encircled my waist. “I found what I wanted, right here.” And my heart lifted and swelled.
“I’m not with the military,” said Kian. “This would be an occasional thing: a few days here and there.”
Cal’s face darkened. “Someone already gave me that speech, Mr. O’Harra. It worked on me back then but it ain’t working now. I’m not doing anyone’s dirty work for them.” And he moved to close the door.
“I understand,” said Kian quickly. “I’ve seen your whole file...even the parts that are redacted. I have a pretty good idea what the CIA had you doing. I’m not offering you that. The opposite, in fact. Helping people in trouble. Protecting people who need it. Doing some good. My team’ll always know who they’re fighting and why.”
Cal went quiet, but I saw the way his eyes changed. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered.
“All I ask,” said Kian with a smile. He gave Cal a business card, then turned to me. “Ma’am,” he said respectfully. He gave Rufus an expert scratch behind the ears, then strolled back to the SUV. The man in the leather jacket followed: another recruit, I guessed.
Cal stared long and hard at the business card as they drove away. “You’re worried he’ll use you, like they did?” I asked.
He nodded grimly.
“I don’t think he’s like that,” I said. “I got a good vibe from him. Rufus, too.” Cal was silent. “And if you did decide to do it, and there was even a hint of it being shady...you’d be out, right?”
“Hell yeah,” he said savagely.
I waited, giving him time, because I knew his doubts were only part of it.
He sat down on the bed. “Wouldn’t want to be away from you,” he muttered.
“He said it’d only be for a few days at a time,” I countered.
He looked at the card again, then looked at me, eyebrows raised in a question. My heart lifted. There’d been a hole in his life, ever since he left the Marines: he needed that close-knit group. He needed to serve his country, and to protect. Most of all, he needed to make things right, to do some good. This might be the chance to do that.