Chapter 16
?
T ucker gave his answer some careful thought while he drew one knee up and rested his wrist on it. “Maybe a little. I know something traumatizing happened to you three or four years ago, and you moved twenty-nine hundred miles and left your family behind to get away from it. And I know it affects how you are with me.”
Pain blanked her features, and he could see the struggle she made to maintain her composure. Her throat worked as she swallowed.
“I was always careful about who I let in my dorm room,” she whispered, “and I carried a panic button when I had to walk across campus for classes at night. I took time to get to know the guys who asked me out before I went out with them. By the time I graduated college, I thought I was pretty good at taking all the precautions so I could to stay safe. But it really isn’t that simple or easy. None of that prepares you for running into a psychopath.”
She tucked her hands between her knees as though to warm them. “After graduation, I went back to my parent’s house for a week, then moved into a postage-stamp-sized apartment, smaller than the one I have now, and waited for answers to some of the job applications I’d sent out.”
He wondered why only a week. After months and years of study, why move out so quickly?
“In the meantime, I worked part-time for a local paper, creating ads, taking photos, and even doing a little editing.”
She drew a deep breath as though bracing herself and at the same time she was distancing herself from the events she was talking about. Maybe that was how she’d survived it all.
“I was at a local meeting taking some pictures for the paper when I met Chad. He was well-known by everyone there. His family lived in the area, and they were affluent. He was five years older than me and already had an established real estate business in town.” She brushed back a strand of hair that fell against her cheek, a gesture of nervousness.
“At the end of the meeting, while I was packing up my camera, he approached me and introduced himself.”
She swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment. “I’ve gone over that first meeting a million times, trying to figure out how I missed seeing the warning signs, but they just weren’t there. He was charming and funny, and I was flattered that he was interested in me. He asked me out for coffee the next day, and I met him at a restaurant, and we talked.”
“We started dating, and at first, everything was normal. Looking back later, I realized there were a couple of incidents when another side of him came out—a side I didn’t like. As long as things went his way, he was charming and could even be funny and sweet, but if something didn’t go according to his plan, he became someone else.
“About four weeks after we started dating, I had a scheduled trip to meet up with some friends for three days. Sarah, the sculptor who created my lamps, was getting married, and I was going to be her photographer. I took my camera to immortalize our pow-wow while we helped her plan everything. She chose her wedding dress that weekend and started the alterations. It was just our group from college, her mother, the groom’s mother and sister. Her brother Trevor was there briefly, just long enough to lend them a little support. He was going to walk her down the aisle. Her father died during our freshman year in college, and she was very emotional.
“When I got back from the trip, Chad was different. Edgy. At first, I thought maybe something had happened with his business, and he was upset, but he started questioning me about the trip, who I’d seen, and what we’d done, and I realized he was angry because I’d gone. Then he mentioned Trevor, Sarah’s brother. I asked him how he knew Trevor. He said he knew everything about me and my friends. That creeped me out, and it was also the moment when I realized I needed to get away from him. I made some excuse and left as soon as I could.
“That night when he called, I didn’t answer. He started calling me non-stop and leaving messages on my phone, but I didn’t answer any of them. The next morning, I texted him that I didn’t want to see him anymore.”
“He didn’t stop, did he?” Tucker asked softly.
She closed her eyes briefly and let out a long breath. “No. He called me at all hours of the night and day. He texted me non-stop. One minute, he’d beg me to get back together with him; the next, he’d threaten me if I didn’t. Then he vandalized my car by pouring paint all over it and breaking the windows and the lights. I couldn’t prove he’d done it, but I knew it was him. I filed a police report about the car and told the cops that I thought it was him, but without proof, there was nothing they could do.
“My brother, Marcus, helped me get the car back into diving condition. It was then I told all three of them about Chad.”
“You didn’t go to your parents?”
She reached for her glass and took a drink. “No, not then. My relationship with them is a whole other issue. After Chad broke into my apartment and trashed it, I told them. I’d been expecting it and had tiny cameras set up in the apartment, so I had proof it was him. I carried a camera with me everywhere I went and caught him following me. I even stored my cameras elsewhere because I knew he’d destroy them if he got the chance. Every restaurant I went in to eat, he’d be there; every store I shopped in, I’d see him just down the aisle. He’d act like he was there conducting business, but the store owners were kind enough to make me a copy of the videos, and it was obvious he was following me. I documented it all. I had the threatening messages he left on my phone and the police report for the vandalism to my car. So, I went to the police with it all, went before a judge, and got a restraining order against him.
“He was arrested for stalking, breaking and entering, destruction of private property, and terroristic threatening. He was charged and jailed but got bail in a matter of days. But they put an ankle monitor on him and he was restricted from any kind of contact with me.
“I told my parents everything—and they were concerned. But they also blamed me for having the bad judgment to get involved with the wrong kind of man.”
Stunned, Tucker couldn’t speak for a moment. “Jesus Christ! How could they even say or think that after what you’d been through? And how would you have known he was a psycho?”
She shook her head. “My parents found raising the boys easier. I was the odd girl out. I was the troubled one because I didn’t fit into the family as easily. I was artistic, creative and they wanted me to be analytical and practical like they were.”
“But you are analytical and practical, Brynn. Otherwise, you’d never be able to run a business like you do.”
“But not enough, Tucker. I learned from an early age I could never depend on my parent’s support only their disappointment and judgement. But I could depend on my brothers. Marcus slept on my couch for days.”
She raked her fingers through her hair, pushing it back, away from her face. “I had a photoshoot planned for the weekend. Sarah was going to meet me at the lodge and hang out with me while I did my thing. We were going to share a room, so I got a double at the lodge. We planned to meet in the restaurant at five.
“I’d gotten there early, hoping for some good light, and I found it. There were groups going up the trails, so I decided to follow along behind one and take some shots. The fall foliage had turned, and the colors were amazing. Only Marcus and Sarah knew where I was, and Chad was under lockdown with an ankle monitor. I felt free for the first time in weeks, so I wandered, took pictures, and just enjoyed being free from it all.
“But Chad wasn’t under lockdown. He cut the ankle monitor off and made a run for it. The police never called me to notify me he was loose when it stopped working. If they had, I would’ve hidden out in my room or left the lodge and gone to stay with one of my brothers.
“I found out later Chad hired a man to follow me and update him on where I was at all times and who I was with. That man was later charged with stalking and as an accessory to my assault. He’ll be up for parole in another year.”
She stared out across the water for a long moment, and her throat worked as she swallowed. She drew her legs up and looped her arms around them. Her body language screamed distress, but her expression remained neutral.
He’d seen the same response in survivors during battle. They had to distance themselves to stay in control. But this was Brynn someone he cared about. He looked down to see his own hands clinched into fists as he held back his own emotions.
“I had just lined up to take a shot when I heard someone running up the trail. I half turned to look behind me. He hit me so hard and fast that I didn’t have time to react, and I went down. He was on top of me, wild with rage, and made these awful grunting, gasping noises as he pounded me again and again. I tried to fold my arms over my face, but he grabbed my arm and twisted it like he wanted to break it off. At one point, I bit his arm and held on. When he started beating my head against the ground, I screamed, and he mashed his hand over my mouth, looped my camera strap around my neck, and started pulling until it went tighter and tighter. The blood started pounding in my head, and I couldn’t breathe.” Her hand shook visibly as she touched her throat.
“When I woke, ants were crawling all over my face and arms. Every breath hurt my throat and chest. It felt like knives were stabbing into my right side. My vision was blurry, and I could only see from one eye. Every time I moved, it felt like the world slid sideways. I think I threw up. I passed out again for a while.
“When I came to, I was cold. The sun was going down, and everything looked dull, as though the color had leached away. I tried to turn on my side, and there was just open space below me. I felt like I was tumbling and the ground might rush up to meet me. The shock of that helped snap me out of the haze a little. I wiggled back away from the drop-off and laid there for a long time, just trying to fight my way back.
“While I was drifting in and out, Sarah had arrived at the lodge. Had she not agreed to come up to spend the night and go hiking with me, no one would’ve been alerted to my being missing.
“She saw my car parked in the lot when she came in but didn’t see me. She went to the dining room to see if I was waiting for her there. She saw Chad sitting at a table eating. She knew about the restraining order, the monitor he was supposed to be wearing, and that he was supposed to be confined to his house or office.
“She went to the front desk and asked them to call my room to see if I was all right. When there was no answer, she asked them to send someone to check on me. One of the hotel porters went to the room with her, and when he opened the door, someone had used the shower, and there were bloody towels on the floor.
“She called the police and reported that Chad was there at the lodge, and I was missing from my room, and the bathroom was bloody. She went back downstairs and explained the whole situation to the manager. He alerted hotel security, but by the time they got to the dining room, Chad was gone.
“He’d taken my room key from my pocket, used the shower to clean up, went to the gift shop and bought a T-shirt to replace his bloody one, and in the dining room, he ate a steak dinner, then walked out and drove away as though nothing had happened.”
Tucker ran a hand over his face. Frustrated rage tied his stomach into knots, and he bit back several expletives. God—the guy really was a psychopath.
“The sun went down, the temperature dropped, and my teeth wanted to chatter, but I couldn’t because my jaw was broken in two places. I couldn’t breathe very well because my nose was broken as well. One eye was swollen shut. I couldn’t call for help because my throat was so swollen, and it hurt to breathe because I had four broken ribs on the right side. I knew if I didn’t climb back up to the trail, they’d never find me, and I would die on that ledge.
“When I look back on it now, I don’t know how I made it up the side of the mountain. It was only about fifteen feet, but it felt like a ten-story building and seemed to take me forever. When I finally reached the top, I had to lie down again. I must have drifted off, but I woke to the sound of voices calling my name. I couldn’t answer them. So, I got up again, and I started down the trail.
“There were four men from search and rescue on the trail when I staggered down it.” She shook her head. “You should have seen their faces. They radioed for a chopper to medivac me out. One started an IV and wrapped me in one of those silver emergency blankets. I don’t remember the helicopter ride.
“The police were waiting at the hospital when I landed. They asked me who attacked me. I couldn’t speak, so I wrote Chad’s name on a piece of paper. A week later, they found him in Boston at his aunt’s house. He had my camera with him, and he had taken pictures of what he thought was my dead body on the ledge he’d thrown me on. He was extradited back to New York and held without bail.
“After months of stalling, talking to the press, slandering me, and making things as difficult for me and his family as he could, he pled not guilty. His parents cut their financial support, and he had to sell his business to pay for his lawyer. The trial lasted two weeks. I had to testify, and I told the story to the jury that I just told you. He was found guilty and was sentenced to twenty-five years to life for assault and battery and attempted murder.
“I left New York the next day.”
Tucker laid a hand against the curve of her back and ran it downward in a gesture he hoped she found soothing. “I’d say I’m sorry, Brynn, but I don’t think it would offer you any comfort.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know who I am before you get closer.”
Tucker’s swallowed against a throat gone tight with emotion. “What happened to you doesn’t define who you are, Brynn. The way you handled it does. You’re a warrior. You didn’t quit. You kept going even though you were severely injured and in pain. And you kept fighting. You faced him and fought to get justice. You stood up for yourself and every other woman he would have put in danger if he’d escaped justice. You stood up for every woman he scarred in the past.”
She turned to look up at him. “I hope that’s true. It’s been four years, and there are still times when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye, my heart leaps into my throat, and I get the shakes.”
“I understand.” He wouldn’t tell her how many close calls he’d had during missions. He’d learned to compartmentalize the memories and block them from his mind. Reliving things didn’t help him face the threats that might be down the road. The training they did for every mission gave him a sense of security, knowing he was as prepared as possible against the violence. And more importantly, he had his team watching his back.
But it didn’t sound like Brynn’s parents had watched hers. He eased his arm around her and was relieved when she moved to press in close against his side.
“Do your friends know about all this?” he asked.
“Some of it. I told Jess a little just today, but Martin guessed a few weeks after we met. Natalie found out before she hired me. She did a background check on me and a social media search and found the news articles about what happened. She wanted to interview me for an article about it, and I refused. I had enough of the press during the trial and before. They were part of the reason I left Saranac.”
“I can’t believe you went to work for her after that. She’s a piece of work.”
“I like to eat, and she was paying better than some of my other gigs. The kind of shots she likes for the magazine are a piece of cake, but don’t tell her I said that.”
Tucker grinned. She was bouncing back.
The alarm on his phone went off, and he jerked it free of the phone holster on his belt and looked at the message. He bit back an expletive. “I have to report to base, Brynn.”
“You’re already so close. I can get an Uber to run me home so you can go on.”
Getting into a car with a stranger after everything she’d told him… Not a chance. “No. I’m taking you.”
*
After five days in, first to Costa Rica and then Ecuador, the Ecuadorian police and American intelligence had tracked the four kidnappers to a small village. The Ecuadorians had held off going in. If something happened to the ambassador’s son, they wanted no part of it. They also wanted to avoid the adverse publicity about where the ambassador’s son had been held. Cowards.
Tucker looked through his infrared night vision goggles toward the heavily vegetated landscape for any movement or light. Rain pelted him and ran down his heavy black poncho, but he ignored it. The storm front would hide their movements and provide them cover in case any of the kidnapper’s partners were following them. So far, it had been quiet.
“Two clicks to evac,” Lieutenant Harding spoke into his ear through the com system.
The small Ecuadorian village came into view below the hillside they’d climbed. Scattered lights showed from the cinderblock houses with their tin roofs. The area was populated by farms, and the people were poor and humble, tied to the land by custom and family.
The Ambassador’s son, Robert Ferguson, limped behind Sam. He’d been beaten while trying to protect the women but was still ambulatory. He’d earned the SEAL’s respect for that.
The women, both blond and young, had been earmarked for sale on the open market. At least one had been assaulted. The two women walked side-by-side, their hands clasped tightly together despite the rain ponchos that covered them.
Sam came over the com. “Two clicks out from evac.”
The sun went down as they walked single-file down the ridge through lush, wet vegetation and soupy mud. They stopped just above a cinder block, tin-roofed farmhouse about the size of a two-car garage. Two small windows in the north wall glowed with light. Close by, pens constructed of rough wooden posts and wire held chickens and a few goats. A hundred feet or so from the house stretched a field.
Sam motioned them forward, and they started down the hill with the ambassador’s son and Bullet behind him. The rain made the rocky, muddy ground slick. Denotti and Tucker took up positions on either side of the women in case they needed help down the trail while Swan and Rosenburg followed. Beckham and Arrow guarded their backs.
Sam’s murmured answers to the transport team came back to him.
The distant womp-womp-womp of the helicopter carried above the sound of the rain, and Tucker’s tension increased. It was times like this, when he was about to board the helicopter to safety, that he was at his most vigilant. One shot stood between him and his team reaching safety and home. How many of his teammates had died running for transport to safety? He didn’t know and refused to think about it. Even though they’d taken the kidnappers out, and the threat level was low…he still held that heightened tension close.
The Seahawk topped the distant hills and bulleted toward them, its silhouette darker than the purple-blue evening sky. As a unit, they quickened their descent, jogged across the muddy road, and started through the field.
The helicopter landed forty feet away, kicking up the rain and flattening the tall, wet grass. The women broke into a run.
The unit followed their lead in order to maintain their position as their cover. Tucker couldn’t blame them for being eager to leave behind this place and their experiences here. What was supposed to be a vacation had turned into a nightmare.
They’d carry this experience with them just as Brynn carried hers. But the men responsible were dead and would never be able to harm anyone again. He hoped that brought them some comfort and closure. If there was any such thing.
Would Brynn have healed quicker if Gillespie had been killed? Maybe.
Some of the tension left him once they’d secured the survivors inside the aircraft and got loaded themselves. The Seahawk lifted off and turned back toward the coast.
He leaned back against a part of the fuselage on one side while Denotti took the other, bracketing the women.
Tucker tipped his Boonie hat back. The chopper bounced as it caught an air pocket, and the woman beside him gripped his arm. He turned to look at her. The bruises on her face and throat stood out like red-violet blooms, and there were broken vessels in her cheeks from being choked. Had Brynn looked like this?
He laid his glove-covered hand over hers. “It’s just turbulence. You’re safe. We’ve got you.”
She nodded and eased back again, but he left his hand resting over hers.
The Seahawk landed on the deck, and medical personnel rushed forward to offload the hostages and give them medical care. They all jogged across the rain-slick deck to a hatch.
A young Seaman led the team below decks to the mess hall. “Captain said you needed a meal before you catch transport to the airport for the flight back to Miramar. I’ll take you to the ready room, and you can drop your gear and dry off, then we’ll head to the mess.”
“Roger that,” Sam said.
It took little time to dump their gear and follow the Seaman to the mess hall.
“Senior Chief Masters wants to debrief you before your flight,” the Seaman said. “I’ll return in an hour for you.”
Sam nodded. “Thanks.”
Tucker fell in between Bullet and Knotty to get food. They ate like the hungry men they were, concentrating on their food in silence for the first ten minutes. Because it was late, the only crew in the mess hall were a cook and a couple of kitchen crew. None came near their table.
“You were good with Townsend and Carpenter,” Bullet said from down the table. “Kept them calm and moving.”
“They wanted to get the hell out of there,” Denotti said. “We didn’t have to do much since they were both still ambulatory.”
“Knowing the fuckers who kidnapped them are no longer breathing will help them recover, hopefully,” Bullet said, echoing Tucker’s earlier thoughts.
“And we earned some points with the ambassador,” Rosenburg chimed in. “His son’s got some balls on him, too.”
“He’ll probably have to have surgery on his nose. Fuckers did a number on it,” Sam said as he pushed his plate forward to rest his arms on the table.
“I wouldn’t mind doing more missions like this one. Human trafficking is just…” Denotti shook his head.
“Evil,” Swan provided.
Tucker studied each man’s face. They didn’t get emotional about the work, but a current of anger ran around the table. Even Swan, who had an unwavering distrust of all women, had had empathy for the brutalized, traumatized hostages.
“We’ve dealt with evil before, and we will again,” Sam said, his voice even, carefully unemotional.
Brynn had probably looked worse. So many facial injuries. But Gillespie hadn’t raped her, thank God. He’d been too busy trying to wipe her off the face of the earth for rejecting him.
Jesus, he couldn’t think about it now. But it was hard not to find a parallel between the women and her. What kind of surgery had she had to repair what he’d done? A broken nose, a broken jaw…plastic surgery possibly. She’d never said. He had so many questions, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to ask them.
He rose to dump his tray, and the others followed.
“You okay, Gilly?” Arrow asked.
“Yeah. Just ready to go home.”
“Roger that!”
The Seaman arrived a few minutes later to take them to the ready room where Senior Chief Ken Masters, the intelligence officer who had set up the op, waited for them. They had worked with Masters several times since Senior Chief Engle had retired. He was a wide-chested, fireplug of a guy, standing only five foot eight. His dark hair was scattered with grey, as was his beard. He had a reputation with the teams for his ability to find the bad guys, compile the information, and plan successful missions. Thus far, they were four for four with him.
“Glad to see you back, guys. Have a seat.”
While they were all taking a seat, he continued. “I’ve spoken to the hostages. They’re all in better shape than we expected, and they’ve already been transported to the mainland to catch a private jet to San Diego. You’ll catch a military transport within the next hour to Miramar.” Masters turned his attention to Sam. “Lieutenant Harding.”
“Yes, Senior Chief.”
So started the questions and the verbal report, with each member adding their observations on how things went and what could have gone better.
“I’ll expect a written report in the next forty-eight hours, Lieutenant Harding.” Senior Chief seemed to draw a deep breath. “One last thing.” He paused. “There’s been another parachuting accident.”
Tucker felt the instant tension spike in the room as every head went up.
“At zero-dark-thirty this morning, Petty Officer Jordan Toliver was killed during a HALO jump. His chute never opened.”
Shock stole Tucker’s breath and muffled the rest of what Senior Chief was saying. The pain rushed in sharp and deep. Grief clogged his throat and stung his eyes. He held it together because he had to, but it took all his concentration to do so. When Senior Chief dismissed them, he moved automatically to follow Denotti as they left the ready room.
In the rush to gather their gear to catch their transport, he was able to breathe through the pain.
All the things he and Jordan had shared during BUD/s ran through his mind. They’d been sent to different teams but had still stayed in touch when they could. They’d gone surfing together when he’d returned from their last deployment. Jordan had talked about asking Savannah, the girl he lived with, to marry him. They’d been together for nearly three years. He’d called two weeks later to tell him she’d said yes, excited and ready for the next step…a family.
God! It seemed worse somehow because it wasn’t the enemy who had cut him down but someone within their own ranks.
Denotti nudged him with his elbow. “You look a little sick, Gilly. You’re not going to blow chunks, are you?”
He shook his head. “Denotti…Jordan Toliver was my swim buddy in BUD/s. He was a friend.”
Denotti studied his face for several seconds. “I know. You’ve talked about him before.” Denotti fished around inside the bag and handed him two tiny pills.
Tucker swallowed them without asking what they were.
“Just close your eyes, and you’ll be fine in a while,” Denotti said.
He did as Denotti suggested. Tears burned beneath his lids, and he opened his eyes again. He wasn’t going to be fine. He’d lost a friend, and he’d move on with the work, but this loss wasn’t going to go away for a long time.