Page 4 of Edinburgh Escape
Cal threw himself forward, chair and all, falling into a silent, black void.
Falling...falling...in an endless downward spiral...
Chapter 1
An incessant chirping sound pierced the silence, slowing Cal’s descent before he came to a bone-shattering crash on hard-packed earth. The more the chirping continued, the closer he came to the surface of his abyss.
He lifted one eyelid, unwilling to confront the horror.
Light crept into the room, sneaking around the corners of curtains covering a tall window.
Cal opened the other eye and stared around the room, confused for a moment. He moved his arms. They weren’t restrained. He stretched his legs. Only a twinge of pain and stiffness remained from the wound he’d received from the explosion. Gone were the chairs he and Smudge had been tied to. Gone were Smudge and Rook. The dirt floor was replaced by a soft bed with clean sheets and pillows.
Cal ran a hand through his hair, willing his heartbeat to return to normal and the recurring nightmare to fade.
The chirping sound ceased about the time he located his cell phone on the nightstand. He reached for the device and checked the caller ID of the missed call, his brow furrowing.
Hank Patterson, the head of the Brotherhood Protectors? The man had started the agency after he’d saved his wife, the megastar Sadie McClain, from a stalker.
Why was he contacting Cal? Had Ace Hammerson, the regional lead of the Brotherhood Protectors International division, asked Hank to convince Cal to join their ranks and become a glorified bodyguard, protecting rich clients from stalkers, jealous rivals or assassins? Cal had told Ace he wanted to think about the job offer. He wasn’t sure he was cut out to babysit the elite, entitled wealthy individuals who’d never had to work hard a day in their lives. Who’d never faced death or watched someone they’d loved have their throat slit while being completely helpless to stop it from happening.
Cal stared at the name on the screen. Hank understood what it was like. He’d been a Navy SEAL in his former military life. He’d seen as many horrors as Cal. Yet, he’d managed to get on with his life, to push past the worst of humankind to dare to bring children into a world as fucked up as this one.
Cal frowned at the clock on the nightstand. Why was Hank calling in the middle of the night? The leader knew there was a seven-hour time difference between the UK and Hank’s home in Montana. Of course, it would only be eight o’clock in the evening there.
Cal sighed. Not that he’d been sleeping well. The nightmares that had barely begun to fade had returned with a vengeance, reminding him of his last mission, of the lives lost mere seconds before they’d been liberated by a team of US Navy SEALs. Only two of the six-man team had survived. Rook and Cal. Taff had been shot a moment before the explosion occurred. Yeti and Bazza had died when they’d been crushed beneath the falling wall.
After their rescue, Cal had spent time in the hospital, his system pumped full of antibiotics to fight a staph infection picked up in the dirt and filth of the cell he’d found himself in when he’d regained consciousness.
Rook had overcome his physical injuries but couldn’t let go of the emotional damage he’d suffered watching his teammate murdered in front of him. Rook had been placed on administrative leave, assigned to a mental health provider and put on suicide watch.
Cal had still been in the hospital when Rook had jumped off the Tower Bridge into the Thames, late one night. No one knew he’d done it until his therapist had called Cal the next day, asking if he’d seen Rook. He hadn’t shown up for his appointment. When Cal said he hadn’t seen him, the therapist had a police officer swing by his apartment in London for a wellness check. When Rook hadn’t answered the knock on the door, the officer asked the building manager to let him in.
He'd found a handwritten note on the counter in the kitchen addressed To Whoever Finds This.
In the letter, Rook spoke of failing his team and costing them all their lives. He’d begged his dead brothers in arms for their forgiveness for letting them down. He’d asked that someone call his mother and let her know he wouldn’t be home for Christmas as previously promised and to please tell her he loved her—and don’t bother looking for him. The Thames didn’t give back what it claimed.
They’d found Rook’s body three days later.
Cal stared at the cell phone screen, his thoughts on Rook, Smudge and the others, guilt souring his stomach. Why them and not me?
The cell phone chirped again, startling Cal out of the trance he found himself falling into all too often.
He answered just to make it stop. “Yeah.”
Instead of Hank’s deep voice, a softer, gentler female voice sounded in his ear. “Is this Callum McCall?”
Cal frowned. “It is.”
“Thank goodness. This is Sadie McClain, Hank Patterson’s wife. Hank’s here with me.”
“Hey, Callum,” a deep, male voice filled Cal’s ear. “Hank Patterson here. Sorry to call you so late, but we wanted to contact you before morning. I know you haven’t committed to joining the team, but Sadie has a big favor to ask of you. You can say no if you’re not ready. We’ll understand.”
“Only, I hope you won’t say no,” Sadie said. “A close friend of mine is headed to London as we speak. She arrives around eight o’clock tomorrow morning. She plans to see a few sights in London before boarding the Caledonian Sleeper train to Edinburgh at ten-thirty tomorrow night.”
Cal shook his head. “What does your friend have to do with me?”
“She’s a preschool teacher from Montana. She’s barely been out of the state and never left the country. I’m worried about her traveling alone. Especially since she’s going to meet newfound relatives in Scotland. I don’t want anything to happen to her or for anyone to take advantage of her.”
