Page 9 of Operation: Valiant Angel

Wilson grinned. “Because I wanted no flak over it, from you or anyone else.”

Garcia pinned him with a pained expression on his face. “I won’t point out you broke protocol.”

“I think her new name and location are safe with me. She’s needed a confidant she can talk to. You, of all people, have to know how lonely it is assuming a new identity, separating yourself from everyone and everything you ever knew, and starting over.”

“A preschool teacher, huh?” Garcia said doubtfully. “I can’t see it.”

Wilson chuckled. “They gave her a makeover, and she says she’s clean and sober for the first time since she was in her teens.”

“I hope she makes it,” Garcia said, signaling their server for the check. “She’s one of the few women from that time that I didn’t sleep with.”

Wilson was taken aback by Garcia’s declaration and the unasked question in it. “And I haven’t either.”

Garcia raised an eyebrow and shrugged. When they had finished talking with Cameron Woods and Wilson requested the side trip to Cedar Rapids, Garcia was surprised. Rae Ella Easton was someone he hadn’t thought about since they’d left her with the U.S. Marshals when they returned from the Op in Norfolk the year before that she helped them with. Admittedly, finding her in that bar, tangled in the case, had shocked the shit out of him. He’d truly thought she’d gotten out years before. He truly hoped she was completely and permanently out now.

“And thanks for agreeing to this little side trip. I know we’d nearly be home if we hadn’t detoured.”

“It’s fine,” Garcia said. “I’ll be home before Sienna and Little T wake in the morning. And I’m home for the next week.”

Wilson nodded. He’d be deploying the following morning on the next PGP install. It was supposed to be an easy one and his team should be able to complete it in two or three days if they busted ass. Then he’d have a few days off before the next PGP Install. He had his entire schedule through the end of February. He’d have little time off until March.

“Your wife is a saint,” Wilson said.

“She is,” Garcia agreed. “And a hell of a mom. Sometimes I just sit back and watch her with Little T and am blown away by how good she is with him. And I do remember how lonely it is when you take on a new identity. I’m glad you’ve been there for Rae. She’s a good person and has seen too much of the bad shit in life. It’s harder for girls thrown into the system.”

“Yeah,” Wilson agreed. He knew that Garcia meant the Foster Care system, which Garcia too was a victim of. “We’ve talked about that some. She was shuffled to five different homes before she ran away as a teen. She’s in a good place now. I think she’s happy not relying on a guy. She’s told me about how she’s decorated her house. She’s really proud she has her own place.”

“She was never a club whore like a lot of the women who hung around, but she was always shacked up with one of the guys for protection,” Garcia said. “Keep your relationship with her as friends. She needs to know people can be there for her without the expectation that she takes her clothes off and spreads her legs.”

Wilson wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He merely nodded when Garcia again made eye contact with him. As they drove back to the neighborhood they’d visited around eighteen hundred, Wilson’s anticipation of seeing Rae increased. Though he knew he had to start thinking of her as Reina Ellis now. Addressing her as Rae Ella would never happen, and Rae or Rei was no problem and wouldn’t give her away if anyone heard.

Reina sat reclined on the couch in her small TV room, mindlessly watching something streaming on the television. Her hand stroked the soft tabby that was cuddled up with her. She’d never had a pet before and she’d waited nearly six months after settling in before she took in the stray that hung around her house since the day she’d moved in. She wanted to be sure shewas settled, and she could offer the affectionate kitty a true home before she brought him inside.

The glow of headlights swept over the front window in a way it only did when someone turned into her driveway. Immediately, she hopped up and stepped over to the window. She peered out, scrutinizing the black SUV that was now parked not even fifteen feet away. This couldn’t be good.

A smile pulled at her lips when she saw the passenger emerge from the car. In a black North Face fleece, with blonde hair loosely falling on its shoulders, was Jimmy Wilson, a man who had become her friend and a confidant. She unlatched the locks and threw the door wide as the second man exited the vehicle. Razor, or rather Garcia, who she now knew was a federal agent who’d been on an assignment, under cover as a gang member when she’d met him. He wore a very expensive leather jacket, not a biker jacket, as she’d assumed Bruce meant when he described her visitors.

“Holy crap!” she exclaimed with a smile as she stepped out onto the stoop. “What are you doing here?” She doubted their presence signaled that she was in danger. If there was a threat, it would be the Marshals who came to collect her.

“Hi Rae,” Wilson greeted with a smile and outstretched arms. He pulled her in for a long embrace when he reached her. “We were in the area for work. I couldn’t be this close by and not stop in to say hi.”

“Hi to you!” she replied, holding him tightly, her emotions surging with the contact. “This is such a nice surprise.”

When Wilson broke the embrace and stepped back, Garcia filled the void and engulfed her in a hug as well. “It’s nice to see you,” he whispered in her ear. His squeeze lasted half the amount of time as Wilson’s.

“You too,” she said with a smile. She stepped back through her door. “Come in, please.”

Both men came inside, instantly making her living room feel small.

“Nice place,” Wilson said, glancing around.

“It’s small, but it’s mine,” she said.

“It looks like you,” Wilson said. He pointed to a series of three posters of carousels that hung on the wall above the television. The roof and the horses were all painted in calming pastel colors. “Your artwork especially.”

She was impressed that he’d remembered that she loved carousels. “Thanks.”

“You look good, Rae,” Garcia said. Her hair was a light brown color with golden highlights, not the usual dark mane with random bold hues haphazardly colored in. And she had wispy bangs framing her face, which added to the softness her new look gave her. Her eyes were bright, clear, and focused. And even her complexion looked healthy.

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