Page 69 of Tango
“I’ll never forget the day a chaplain showed up at my parents’ house. I could hear my mom’s scream from the barn.” He shakes his head. “Bradyn, Elliot, and Riley were with me too, and we all sprinted toward the house. The black SUV had government plates, and I just knew what they were there to say.” He takes a deep breath, and I remain quiet. “They told me Dylan was dead. That my twin brother was killed in action, and they didn’t even have a body we could bury.” A tear slips down his cheek.
I remain rooted to the spot despite my desire to run toward him. But I sense that any interference from me will shut this conversation down before he gets whatever it is off his chest.
“I told them they were wrong. My gut told me that Dylan was still alive. I just knew it. They insisted I was wrong. That I would come to terms with it and we needed to make arrangements for a funeral.” He shakes his head again. “My parents started coming to terms with it, but I never did. My house wasn’t built at the time, so I was sharing an apartment with Riley in town. I remember going home and spending two straight days online, searching through databases I wasn’t supposed to be in—looking for anything to prove I was right.”
“And you found something.”
He nods. “I managed to find the orders he was given, which gave me his location. I hacked satellites and got footage of him being arrested and taken into a gated compound guarded by a militia in South America.”
“What happened then?”
“I told Riley, Elliot, and Bradyn. Then, together, we told our parents that we were going to bring Dylan home. Dead or alive, he was coming home.” Tucker wipes the tears from his cheeks. “That was the first mission Hunt Brothers Search and Rescue went on, and it was the only mission Lani and our father ever took with us.”
“They went?”
He nods. “Lani was in med school, but we knew that Dylan would likely be injured, and we wanted a medic on sight. My dad insisted on coming too and hired a private plane to take us there.”
“Jesper?” I met the former fighter pilot when he flew us to and from California. Super interesting guy and beyond loyal to the Hunts.
He shakes his head. “Jesper came later. This guy went to our church and was a member of my dad’s men’s ministry. He passed away suddenly about a year after we brought Dylan home.”
“I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t directly respond to me, just continues staring out into the trees.
“What happened when you got there?” I ask when he doesn’t continue.
“We rented a house on a private beach, one that could be easily protected should anything happen. Then my brothers and I set out, fully geared up and ready for war.”
Which they found, I think to myself. That is, if Tucker’s expression is telling me anything.
“Bradyn and Elliot took the front while Riley and I came around the back. By the time we’d cut through the chain-link fence and reached the back door of the compound, chaos had already begun. Alarms were going off; armed soldiers were running through the halls, prepping for a fight. We thought they’d seen us, but then—” He trails off. “We reached the lowest level of the compound just as two men hauled a third out of a hole in the ground.” His expression is furious now, the tears streaming down his cheeks in rapid succession. “It was literally a gaping hole. Dark, damp—the man was so skinny I could see his ribs, and what I could see of his skin that wasn’t covered in blood and bruises was so pale it looked thin as paper.” Tucker’s voice breaks. “They threw the man to the ground—he was cuffed—but when he came up, there was a rusty knife in his hand. He charged, and one of the men fired.” Tucker pauses. “I’ll never forget that moment. Everything slowed down. Riley and I sprinted forward just as Dylan fell backward into that hole.”
“Oh, Tucker—” I can’t even begin to process the emotions burning through me right now. The pain he must have felt in that moment, watching his brother they’d come all that way to rescue possibly dying right in front of him.
“As soon as the two soldiers were no longer a threat,” he growls out, “Riley and I descended into that pit. There were wooden stairs leading down, and Dylan was at the bottom. Dead bodies lined the sides, bodies of the fellow soldiers he’d served with. Men he’d loved as brothers, whom he’d been forced to watch decompose in the months he was held there. He was bleeding out on that floor, but when he saw us, he was so panicked that he charged at Riley, slicing out with the blade and nearly taking his hand off. We had to pin him to the ground and?—”
Tucker closes his eyes, and even though I’m not sure it’s what he wants, I move forward and take his hand. He grips it, fingers threading through mine. His hand is trembling beneath my touch, so I place my other hand on top, hoping to add another layer of comfort as he relives what was likely the worst day of his life.
“We had to keep him chained like an animal as we dragged him out of that cell. The things they did to him— We’ll never know the extent, but they changed him forever. Dylan is no longer the same man he was, and I don’t know that he’ll ever be.”
“What’s the promise you made?” I ask him after a few seconds of silence. “You told me that you made a promise to yourself.”
Tucker turns to me now, bright blue eyes glittering with tears. “That I wouldn’t let myself be happy until Dylan can be.”
Tucker’s words haunt me as I replay them in my head. I’ve always been a visual person, able to play out books in my head as though they were a movie on a screen. It’s a skill I was grateful for until now.
Because I can see Dylan in that hole.
I can feel Tucker’s pain.
Riley’s—all of theirs.
The youngest of all five brothers was held captive, tortured, beaten—who knows what else, all while the government he’d served turned their back on him because there was no proof of life. Did they even bother to truly look? Or did they just assume? Given Tucker was able to figure out his brother was alive with—what was likely at the time—limited resources, I’m guessing he wasn’t deemed worthy of the risk it would present to rescue him.
But for Tucker to make a promise to not find happiness until Dylan? That breaks my heart. And not just because—at the present moment—I would very much like to be that happy but because I imagine Dylan would hate that his brother is suffering on his behalf.
I may not have known the Hunts long, but I’ve spent enough time around them to know that they all love each other very much.
