Page 54 of Operator
My chest hurts from holding my breath. Callum squeezes my hand so tight I’m pretty sure I’ve lost circulation in my fingers, but the anticipation is so intense I barely notice. Carefully, Ford extracts a yellow folder, thick with contents. Underneath is an old, battered laptop and an envelope. He tips it out and several SD cards spill out onto the table. There are other objects inside, but less helpful as far as figuring out what he and Ian could have been involved in: a framed photo of Cal, Ford, and three other men that must be Ryan Tate, Dean, Killian, and James, a set of dog tags, a pair of metal chopsticks, several pairs of Bluetooth headphones, and random items of clothing.
Ford takes the dog tags, and they dangle from one hand as his eyes go dark and unfocused. He’d been the one to administer a lethal dose that had ended Ryan Tate’s life after he’d been grievously injured. As the combat medic on the team, it was Ford’s responsibility to treat his teammates as needed, but according to Cal, there was nothing anyone could do for Tate but ease his suffering. I couldn’t imagine having to make that choice. Especially when it would mean he’d be risking his career.
Callum is drawn to the picture. I lean over his arm to peer at the men. Cal is in the middle, of course. When he notices me staring, he says, “This is James.” He taps a finger on a tall man with serious eyes and no smile on the far left. Cal moves to James’ right where a man with a significant scar slashing down across his face is making finger guns at the photographer. “This is Killian,” Cal says with a snort and a shake of his head. “He’s a little crazy.”
“A little?” Ford interjects.
Next to Killian is Dean, who must be the playboy of the bunch. He’s the tallest of them all, with a thick, dark beard and a white smile peering through. Why do I describe him as a playboy? Because he’s got one hand lifting off his shirt to show off washboard abs. Peyton and I look at each other and share an eyeroll and a grin. Cocky. Probably an asshole and no doubt had several women on the side during deployments. I know the type. He’s the one closest by, in Sebring, North Carolina.
Which means the last person is Ryan Tate. He had a kind face and bright blue eyes. I can’t help it, I always notice the eyes first. He’s sporting a gigantic smile and seems sort of bashful for an operator. From what I’ve learned from Cal, he was a fearless and kind leader. Exactly the kind of man you’d want to follow to hell and back. He had to have been for his death to have marked them all the way it did.
“There has to be something in this laptop or on the memory cards,” Ford says.
Cal takes the computer. “I’ll take the laptop. You’re shit with computers. What about the SD cards?”
Peyton raises a hand. “I’m not shit with computers. If they’re photos, I can comb through them with Ford and see if he sees anything.”
“It could take a while,” Cal says.
Ford lifts his beer to his lips for a long drink. I get the sense both of the guys are relieved to have finally confronted their own ghosts. “We’re planning to be here for the week, so we have time. Once we know more about what we’re dealing with, we’ll reach out to Dean. Then Killian. By then, my contacts may have a bead on James.”
“I have an idea,” I pipe up. All eyes swing to me. “Why don’t we go see Ian’s therapist? If anyone has any more information, the only person I can think of would be him. He has to have some sort of record about their sessions. If something was bothering Ian, he would have told him.”
Cal and Ford share a look.
“What?” I ask.
“Wanna go on a road trip?” Cal asks Ford.
“What?” I say again.
“I’m always game,” Ford responds with a reckless grin. Peyton smiles wistfully at him, and for the life of me I can’t realize why he looks like he’s thirsty to pound someone’s face in.
I shake my head, worried I may have given them the wrong impression. “No, it’s not like that. William has always been kind to me. He’ll be happy to help in any way he can. Besides, if you’re going anywhere, you’re taking me with you.”
“There’s also one of Ian’s buddies from deployment. Some dude named Alec. Army,” Callum adds, as though it’s an insult.
“Maybe we’ll talk to him, too,” Ford muses, and they both pretend not to have heard me.
“You leave Alec alone,” I say warningly. “His wife was just in a terrible car accident. His family has been through enough. He doesn’t need you picking at him about his best friend’s death.”
“I promise we’ll play nice, angel,” Cal says and presses a kiss to my forehead.
“With our fists,” Ford says under his breath.
A short while later, we say good night to Ford, Peyton, and Lexie. Ford and Callum are determined to set up a meeting with William, and they won’t take no for an answer. I’ve given up trying to talk them out of it and make a mental note to try again in the morning. He has to listen to reason at some point. Besides, there’s no way in hell they’re going anywhere without me.
CHAPTER TWENTY
CALLUM
“She’s goingto be pissed at you,” Ford says over his cup of coffee the next morning.
Gwen has the coffee maker scheduled to brew first thing in the morning like the angel she is. Hopefully, she won’t betoopissed when she realizes I snuck out before she and the baby woke up for this little expedition.
I sip from an identical thermos and smile at the thought of her getting all pissed off. I really do love it too much when she’s yelling at me. I love it even more when I get her to be sweet afterward. “Yeah, I know.”
“Like really pissed.” Ford peers at me over the rim of the thermos and tilts his head. “Have you slept with her yet?”
