Chapter 15
Olive pulled in next to her car and turned the bike off. The thrill at driving the motorcycle, being the one in control, still coursed through her. She’d loved the wind in her hair, the feel of Jerry’s arms around her, the way she felt one with the road as they leaned into turns and corners.
Jerry slipped off the bike and helped her with the kickstand. Sad to see the evening end, she pulled the helmet off and handed it to him. A grin covered her face. “That was just incredible,” she said. “I understand how people get addicted to it.”
He secured her helmet to the back of the bike and slipped his off. A contented smile covered his face. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
She stepped forward and framed his face with her hands. “Gerald McBride, I love you. And I love this side of you.”
His eyes flared, and he pulled her closer. She eagerly met his kiss and tried to pour the love and desire she felt into it. Her arms went around his neck, and she stood on her tiptoes. She couldn’t get close enough to him.
She finally ripped her mouth away. He rested his forehead against hers, his breathing fast. He put his hands on her hips and set her away from him. “We need to go for a ride more often,” he said, his voice hoarse.
With a chuckle, she stepped all the way back, breaking all contact. “I don’t disagree.”
After pulling her purse out of the saddle bag, he handed it over to her. “See you at oh-four-thirty,” he said.
“Oh-dark-thirty. Can’t wait.” Her lips felt swollen, and she ran her tongue over them. “Be safe getting back to post.”
With a wink, he strapped his helmet back on and turned on the bike. He sat there, idling. She knew he waited for her to drive away before he left.
Olive arrived home just before 8:30 that night, thanks to light traffic for once and hitting only a few stoplights along the route.
She immediately began her final packing and checking off her departure list. Not a minute after forwarding her mother her itinerary, Olive’s phone rang.
She grinned as she answered the video call. “Well, hello. I just emailed you.”
“I saw,” her mom said as she walked through her house. “You all packed?”
“Yes, ma’am. We have to be at the Nashville airport at six.”
“Yikes!” Her mother sat on her front porch. Olive imagined that the late Alabama spring provided a humid blanket. “What time does the ship sail?”
“Three-thirty.” She settled into her chair. “Seven beautiful days away from the hospital and the chaos.”
Her mom’s eyes shone from behind her glasses. “Every girl’s dream.” After a pause, she asked, “And how are things going with Jerry McBride?”
The kisses they’d shared tonight mingled with mental images from the last several months.
She couldn’t help the silly smile that accompanied the memories.
Since confessing their love, she had felt a freedom of expression she had never felt before.
He made her feel safe. She could see spending the rest of her life with him by her side.
She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.
But did she want that life as a soldier’s wife? That would be the deal breaker. The more she thought about it, the more she went round and round in her mind about it.
Oh, but the way he made her feel. The way he filled her heart with love and desire. And the way he—
They had not once talked about a future together. They had always existed in the moment. She was just projecting. But she could dream.
And hope.
“Pretty serious.” She paused. “I can see a future there.”
“Is he career Army?”
She chuckled. “He’s third generation career Army, Mama. Grandfather, father. And before you say anything, I know. That’s been on my mind lately, too.” She paused. “Although we both know how much I enjoyed the culture when I was in.”
“We do.” Her mom took a drink of water.
“You know, when I got out and started making plans, I felt pressed to stay here. I just didn’t know why.” A grin covered her face. “I think I know why God wanted me here, now. I believe it was to meet Jerry that morning at chapel.”
“We’ve been praying for your future husband your whole life. I have a feeling we’ll finally be able to add a name to that prayer.”
Heat flooded her face, and she changed the subject. “How’s Irene’s new job?”
“Oh, you know, having to work her way through the ins and outs. I think she’ll like it more by the time summer’s over.”
They chatted for a few more minutes. After they hung up, she read the text message that had come in from Erin Carpenter, Calvin Brock’s girlfriend. They’d been assigned the same cabin on the cruise.
She had no idea about cruise culture, but apparently, Erin did.
They coordinated decorations for their door, supplies, and accoutrements that they had each packed.
She bypassed Erin’s nervous energy about meeting Cynthia Norton.
She’d met her a few weeks ago and enjoyed the time they spent together tremendously.
No one would ever know her father was the Vice President of the United States from just talking to her over tea.
She knew Cynthia would prefer it if people didn’t define her by her pedigree.
Olive finished writing the note for her neighbor’s teenager detailing which plants got watered, on what day and where to leave the mail, then put the requested sodas in the refrigerator. She looked around the kitchen before wandering into the living room.
With all of the pre-vacation nervous energy coursing through her, she didn’t think she’d sleep. So, she changed into the dress she planned to wear tomorrow, then grabbed her latest Violet Pearl mystery and curled up in her big chair.
The doorbell surprised her. She must have dozed off. As she got up, she checked her phone. 4:10! She had slept for hours.
Jerry stood on her doorstep wearing a pair of knee-length khaki shorts and a white shirt covered in red palm fronds. “Morning, soldier. You look ready for the tropics,” she said, sleep clinging to her voice.
He wiggled his eyebrows. “You look like you just woke up, bed head.”
“Sure did. My alarm should be going off in about five minutes.” She stepped back as he walked in and gladly accepted his kiss. Then said, “I’m going to go freshen up.”
“I can take your bag to the truck.”
“I still need to pack my makeup bag. Give me five minutes.” On her way to the bedroom, she said, “Coffee maker’s prepped if you want to get that brewing.”
In the bathroom, she quickly brushed her teeth, then brushed her hair and pulled it into a braid. She ran her hands down the front of her green sundress. It had handled sleeping in the chair well. After repacking her makeup bag, she tossed it into the open suitcase on her bed and zipped it shut.
When she wheeled it into the living room, she found Jerry standing near the door, a travel mug of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. As soon as he heard her, he slipped the phone in his pocket and smiled, holding out the coffee. “Mine’s still brewing. All set?”
“Yep.” She traded him her suitcase for the cup, then took a sip.
He had added exactly the right amount of cream.
She closed her eyes, savoring the creamy brew.
While he took the bag outside, she ran through a mental checklist as she entered the kitchen and grabbed his coffee cup.
She rinsed everything out and wiped it all down, then met him back in the front room.
“I am so excited!” she said, slipping her tote bag handles over her shoulder. “Let’s get this party started!”
“There’s something I need to tell you before we go,” he said.
His serious tone gave her pause. A nervous flutter started somewhere in her chest. “Okay.”
“This is between you and me. You can’t talk to your roommate about it. Brock told me he hadn’t said anything, and he really shouldn’t.”
“So, unofficially,” she offered.
“Let’s go so far as to say hypothetically and completely off the record.”
Less alarmed and more curious, she perched on the arm of the chair. “Understood.”
“Phil’s fiancée, Melissa? Her sister’s in witness protection.”
Olive raised an eyebrow. Of all of the things she might have thought would come out of his mouth, that didn’t even make the long list. “Really? Do you know why?”
“I do. Can you keep a secret?”
“You know I can,” she nodded.
“So can I,” he answered without any additional elaboration.
“Oh, so you’re funny in the early morning hours, too, are you?”
Jerry winked and took a sip of coffee. “The reason they’re getting married on a cruise ship is to provide a protected and enclosed space for her sister to attend the wedding.”
She quickly worked through the logistics. “Wow. That’s kind of big. How did they pull it off?”
He shrugged slightly. “I don’t know the details. Phil’s dad’s a federal judge. And Cynthia Norton will be aboard with her Secret Service detail.”
Despite her sleepiness, Olive noted the understandable little snarl on Jerry’s lips whenever he mentioned DHS.
He continued, “Anyway, I imagine things were arranged at a very high inter-service level.” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his shorts.
“Between Federal Marshals and Secret Service for Norton’s wife, we’ll likely have several security checkpoints, and all of our events are exclusive and private. ”
“That’s fair.” She paused. He didn’t move. “What else?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to explain this.” He let out a breath. “If something bad happens—”
She stood and put a hand on his chest. “Hey, Jerry, it’s good. I can follow orders, and I don’t want you to worry about me if something goes sideways. I want you to focus on what you have to do.”
“I will, but we should have a plan.”
She felt her head cock to the side as she considered. “Do you have a plan if something happens?”
“I do, yes.”
She nodded. “Then I’ll trust your plan.”
After a moment, a slow grin spread across his face. “I love you, do you know that?”
“So you say,” she said, stepping closer. “I love you, too, by the way.”
He cupped her cheek and gave her a small kiss. “Ready to roll? Getting late.”
She scoffed. “We have time for one more kiss.”
Miami, Florida
Jean Desalin leaned against a conex, the night air thick with salt and diesel from the nearby Miami docks.
An enormous street light painted the shipyard with a silvery light in the pre-dawn morning.
The low groan of mooring lines creaking against the tide hummed in the background, punctuated by the distant clang of a loose chain
Despite the darkness, Jean wore his sunglasses in case a camera captured his face.
“What’s the ship’s status?” he asked in Haitian Creole as three people emerged from the shadows.
“Definitely something buzzing,” René said. “The crew shifted this week. We’ve lost four of ours. I’ve never seen it happen like that.”
“A VIP is coming aboard with some tight security,” Marie said. “Hao doesn’t even know the details. The manifest contains no names.”
“No names? How?”
Marie shrugged. “Hao said even the captain didn’t know.”
His mind whirled. What did this mean? The last thing he needed was his crew getting removed. “Can we proceed?”
Claude shrugged. “That gives us four to add to the island plan. Most of the manpower is there upfront. We can add them to the ship after.”
Jean looked at Marie. She said, “My cover name so far has held up under scrutiny. I don’t think we need to worry about my position.”
“We still have two on security, which will help. And we have Hao on the bridge,” Claude added.
Jean nodded and asked, “Do you believe we can truly trust Hao?”
Marie didn’t even blink. “Absolutely.”
Impatience crawled up Jean’s neck, but he pushed it back down. Emotions could ruin this kind of careful planning. “I don’t have a way to recover the money we paid to Wei. Not like he gave me a receipt. We don’t have a lot of choice but to continue with the plan.”
René nodded. “Wei provided his people. We have about half of them still vetted for the ship because they already worked for the company. I just don’t know if we can rely on them entirely when it all goes down.”
“We may not have a choice,” Marie said. “This is our last chance, and our ship numbers aren’t enough.”
“Wei is a professional, and our success means his success,” Jean said.
“I’ll see you in three days. Contact ends after today.
René, coordinate our Chinese team. Claude, you’re still lead on the island.
Marie takes lead on the ship.” He turned to his sister.
“Use caution. Our success hinges on complete surprise.”
“We know the plan.”