Page 59 of Tango
I hear her phone hit the counter relatively hard and mark the time the call ends. I have no idea who was on the other line, though I imagine it was Wilbur Huck. He’s the only one with high enough clearance to pull off what Alice is saying they’re trying to pull off. Plus, he’s the one Logan claims is in on it.
Wilbur Huck.
Since we recorded this call without a warrant or permission, the information I overheard won’t be admissible in court. However, it helps us to get closer to finding the truth because now we know that Kara is involved. She’s a lead, a thread to tug until the rest of the truth falls out.
My gaze drifts to the couch where Alice is sleeping. She passed out from exhaustion about an hour ago, and I covered her with a blanket. Try as I might, I haven’t been able to keep from looking at her from time to time.
She’s just so beautiful. So kind. Though not incapable of anger, that’s for sure. I’d genuinely thought I was going to have to hold her back when she’d lunged for Kara. Part of me toyed with not holding her back and letting her have that outlet. Who knows, maybe it would’ve gotten Kara talking.
It’s not right—but the thought did cross my mind.
Dylan is sleeping—or what he calls sleep—which is really him lying in bed, catching thirty minutes at a time. It’s the most he’s gotten since we pulled him out of that prison. Instinctively, I glance toward the door.
It’s not uncommon for him to be thrown into a full-blown PTSD episode in those brief moments he gives up control to rest. More than once, he’s come at me with a knife or other weapon he managed to get his hands on.
Never a gun though.
My guess is that’s because it was an old, rusted knife he was carrying when we found him. He’d nearly taken Riley’s hand off with it because he’d been so disoriented he couldn’t even recognize us. And in those moments, in Dylan’s mind, he’s still in that pit.
As it does whenever that particular memory assaults me, the knot in my chest tightens, and I rub the heel of my palm against it. I lower my head, trying so hard to breathe through the ache.
“Are you all right?”
I nearly jump out of my skin at Alice’s voice. “When did you wake up?”
“A few seconds ago.” She keeps the blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she drops into a kitchen chair beside me. “So are you?”
“I’ll be fine.” I take a deep breath and offer her the earpiece. “Kara got a return call,” I tell her.
Interest piqued and topic of conversation successfully changed, she takes the earphones and presses one side to her ear as I hit play. The expressions that play out on her face showcase the battle she’s fighting against her own anger.
It’s something I can relate to.
“Does that help us?”
“Unfortunately, it was recorded without a warrant, so it’s not going to do us much good unless we can find out who she was talking to and get that information to someone we can trust.”
“Which, in this state, is no one. Web Safe has contacts all over the place.” She runs her hands over her face.
“We’ll figure it out. We’re going to head back to the ranch first thing in the morning. It’s the safest place for you until we can get some concrete evidence. But I’m about ready to kick the doors of Web Safe in myself.”
She nods. Then her piercing crystal gaze narrows on me again. “Spill.”
“About what?”
“You looked like you were walking through fire when I woke up.”
“I’m just tired.” The lie tastes vile on my tongue. “Look, it’s not something I want to talk about, okay?”
“I didn’t want to talk, either, but it helps.”
“Not this time.” I’ve talked until my face is blue. To Pastor Ford, to a therapist I saw briefly…to God. Only the latter has helped, and it’s still a struggle. Every day I wake up, I’m reminded of my greatest failure.
Trusting in the word of a government I vowed to serve and nearly losing my brother in the process.
Being back home is always a breath of fresh air. An early flight home, thanks to Jesper—the private pilot we use for nearly every mission—and I’m sitting on my own front porch, drinking a cup of fresh coffee, with Tango at my feet.
With Kara, and whoever she spoke to, aware that Alice is with us, it seemed the most logical choice to return to the place where it’s the easiest to protect her. Here, we have security, and six of us—including Elliot’s wife, Nova—who are all tactically trained and prepared for war, should it reach our doorstep.
