Page 3 of Evidence of Truth

Anne sighed. Not today.

Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her belly and stared in the mirror. “You’re safe, little one,” she whispered. “Having you now is not the end of the world. We’ll get through this. Your mom is strong.”

Mom? Anne closed her eyes and hugged her chest. Her heart raced. Oh God! She was going to be a mother. She rocked back and forth on her heels, then gave herself a mental slap. Suck it up, buttercup. This was now her life.

“Oh,” she huffed. She couldn’t forget she needed to have a conversation with her parents before too long. No sense surprising them in seven months with a baby in her arms. Gah. Anne was not looking forward to having that conversation.

Class was in a half hour.

The good news was she didn’t have to make any decisions today—or even this week.

Although the way her luck was going, Anne figured next week could bring worse news. Despite the setback, she was determined to move forward, prepare a good life for her baby, and hopefully, the next time, be wiser if or when she dated again and not take any crap from a man.

CHAPTER TWO

Killian Caswell melted into the shadows and stilled his breath. Other members of his SEAL team fanned out around the one-story wooden building where an American hostage was being held captive. Sweat trickled down his back. The muggy night air wrapped around him like a wet blanket. But Killian was thankful they weren’t in this small African nation in the rainy season.

Lowering his night-vision goggles, he scanned the darkness surrounding them. No lights were visible in the surrounding houses, and no streetlights lit the dirt road, polluting the scene. Stars twinkled in the inky night sky.

He spotted George “Bones” O’Malley crouched behind a small shed and gave him a silent nod.

The other four men in their group had taken cover behind the wooden structure, nestled amidst a cluster of several small houses in the middle of a village in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

Occasionally, a dog’s bark pierced the stillness. Otherwise, the night was quiet—almost too quiet. There were no night creatures howling or hissing. No bats or owls flew overhead, and no one was stirring, almost as if the village were holding its breath—waiting.

Killian slowed his breathing. Bones initiated a countdown.

Showtime.

The world exploded into action.

Killian and Bones burst through the front as the rest of the team breached the back. Four insurgents slept in the front room. Startled by the noise, they were too late getting up and quickly disposed of.

He heard the staccato pop, pop, pop of gunfire as Doc, Stinger, Chef and Blade cleared the rear. Intel suggested ten insurgents hiding in the four-bedroom structure, but who knew how many there actually were?

Bones veered left to the back bedroom. That left the small bedroom on the right for Killian to investigate. He cautiously pushed open the door. The window was covered over, darkening the room, which smelled like pee and fear. In the dimness, Killian saw the outline of a person on a cot lying on their back.

Killian leaned in to identify the man.

Yup, it was the captured citizen. His mouth was taped. His hands and feet were tied to the cot. He made no effort to move.

“Art Bender?”

The man’s eyes snapped open. They widened, and he tried unsuccessfully to scooch away from Killian, but to no avail.

“We’re here to rescue you and get you back to the U.S. of A.,” Killian whispered. “Okay?”

Art nodded weakly and closed his eyes. Killian severed the ties, gently removing the tape from his mouth. He rubbed Art’s arms and legs to get the circulation going, then asked, “Can you walk?”

“Yes,” Art replied. His voice was raspy and hoarse.

“We need to be quiet,” said Killian. “Understand?”

Art nodded. Killian helped him sit up and gave him several seconds to catch his breath.

Time was of the essence since they had no idea if other insurgents were hiding in the village and sure didn’t want to find out.

“Stay behind me, and we’ll get you home ASAP.”

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