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Authors: Charlie Cole

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“Mmmm,” she purred and put her head on my chest.

We stayed like that in each other’s arms, sharing loving
caresses and running fingernails over each other and talking… talking about
nothing, about everything. About life after all this. We’d be together for
quite a while we agreed. We connected in ways that just felt right and there was
no argument about that.

“What are you thinking?” she finally asked me.

“Ohh, the four deadliest words in the English language,” I
replied.

“Right after ‘Whose panties are these?’” She answered
without missing a beat.

I laughed at that and she laughed with me.

“True,” I agreed.

“No, seriously,” she prompted.

“I think that after we visit with the kids, I want to go
back to Virginia,” I said. “And tie up some loose ends.”

“Yeah?” she asked.

Her question was innocent enough, but I understood her
meaning. She was asking me if it was work or not. It made sense from her
perspective.

“Personal stuff,” I said. “Well… family stuff. Our family.”

I pulled her closer to me and kissed her. She was part of my
family and we were glad to have it that way, no recriminations, no second
thoughts. It was what it was and that was enough.

But still, I had to put some last thoughts to rest.

 

***

 

Nancy McNally’s funeral was the next
day. We knew her as Nan. She had been a friend when I didn’t deserve one, but
needed one more than anything else. Nan’s funeral was an eclectic event. Her
friends and family came in a both industrial goth attire and conservative
business suits.

Director Sinclair had seen to it that she was recognized by
an honor guard, a rare tribute for a civilian, but one that Nan earned
nonetheless.

Jessica and I parked a distance away and stood under a tree,
watching the funeral from a distance. We wore sunglasses to guard against the
sun.

“You doing okay?” Jess asked.

“Yep.”

“When are Geoff and Ron’s funerals?” she asked.

“Couple days. Their bodies were shipped to their families,”
I shook my head.

“Do you want to go to their funerals?” she asked, more
cautious this time.

I sighed.

“I wouldn’t feel right about it. Being there,” I said.

“They made their choice, Simon,” Jess reminded me.

“Their families didn’t,” I said. “That’s what this is about.
The family.”

“Then why are we here at this one?” Jess asked, her voice
quieter.

“Because Nan didn’t choose this life.”

We stood in silence as the pastor finished the graveside service.
The family began to disperse, talking amongst themselves.

“Do you want to go over? Pay respects?”

“She knows,” I replied. “I don’t deserve to be there. To
explain it to the family. I belong here. Let them grieve. I’ve been in their
shoes. Let them have the time to grieve.”

We stood in silence for a moment. The air cool. A soft
breeze blew.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Where to?” she asked.

“Let’s go see the kids.”

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

Family. It’s what holds us together
as a country, as a society, as a people. In a time where so much is done either
intentionally or by neglect to destroy the family, it’s still the one thing
that rings so true, that you can hold so dear.

I’ve known men in times of war that have fought to the death
to defend their families. They’ve trekked thousands of miles to foreign lands
to fight for the freedom of their families back home. I’ve always honored that,
respected it. But I never thought I’d be recruited into a conflict in my own
country to defend my family.

My father may not have seen it when I was a child, but
because of his upbringing, I see it now. And to be honest, I think he sees it
in me and so he too values family and understands why I do what I do.

In the end, setting all geopolitical motives aside,
sometimes it comes down to protecting your family. I don’t think of myself as a
complex man, but I can understand that. I can understand protecting your family
at all costs, as long as your service doesn’t destroy the very family you’re
endeavoring to protect.

I had been gone from my family, separating myself in an
attempt to protect them, but now that the bloodshed was over, I needed to make
things right with them.

We crossed the Wisconsin border early in the day and
continued on through downtown Milwaukee. Traffic wasn’t bad at mid-day. I saw
the signs for Madison and knew that I’d need to visit my father soon at his
place in Waukesha, but not today. We continued on up past Mequon and Cedarburg
and Oshkosh and Appleton.

It was hours in the car, but it felt like time to get to
know each other again. Jess and I hadn’t been together that long, but it felt
like forever now. And the time that we’d been apart during the operation was
minor compared to everything else, but it felt huge in some way too. Just
outside of Wausau, I noticed that Jessica was looking at me and playing with my
hair.

“What?” I asked. I felt myself smiling.

Jess smiled back but just shook her head and sighed.

We were content with one another. And that was enough. I
picked up the phone and dialed again, but unlike so many calls I’d made before,
I looked forward to this one.

“Hello?” came the tired voice.

“Alaina, it’s Simon. I’ll see you soon.”

We pulled up to the cabin that sat nestled in Presque Isle,
WI near the shores of Crab Lake. We were a scarce three miles from the Michigan
border, give or take. It was about as far “up north” you can get in Wisconsin.

I pulled to a stop outside of the cabin. The place had been
my father’s in years past. After the tumultuous years of growing up in his
house, I’d left for college and worked two jobs to pay for my education. It had
taken years to finally get distance on the gulf that had grown between us. My
father finally saw it, realizing what the problem was. In an effort to make
peace, he’d given me his favorite fishing cabin as a gift. It seemed only
fitting that we should be there now as I repaired my own family.

The headlights of the car illuminated the cabin and I paused
for a moment before extinguishing the headlamps.

“What if they hate me?” I asked aloud.

“They won’t hate you,” Jessica replied.

“I forced them out of their beds in the middle of the
night,” I said. “I sent them away and left them for days…”

“You protected them,” Jess reminded me. “If you hadn’t done
it, who knows what Kendrick’s people would have done to them.”

There was truth in that. I tried not to think of the
atrocities that someone like Agent Brock or Vaughn would have committed to my
children… to Alaina, just because she was there.

“I’m not the same man that left them,” I said. The words
haunted me, thinking back over the move, the new job, how far we’d come since
Claire’s death.

“No, you’re not,” Jessica agreed. I looked at her and she
was regarding me, judging me by what she was seeing. “But that’s not
necessarily a bad thing.”

“Isn’t it?” I asked.

Before she could answer, I saw my son David’s face in the
window. He looked outside, his eyes open and searching, acceptingly innocent
and when he saw the car, he smiled the biggest smile I’d ever seen. His cheeks
pushed up into little rosy apples and his eyes squinted into little half moons
of delight. I could read his lips when he shouted, “Daddy’s here! Daddy’s
here!” And then he was running from the front window and heading for the door.

I exited the car and Jess did the same. We shared a look
over the hood that said that whether we were ready or not, we were here and
they needed us and that was what mattered more than anything.

David burst through the door, running full speed in his
pajamas, bare feet slapping the wooden steps. Melissa appeared a second later
and she’s abandoned all pretense of being cool or waiting for Dad. They ran for
me, arms wide and accepting, faces filled with joy and hope. I hadn’t seen much
of either of those in the past few days.

They collided with me, one after the other in that
running/tackling hug that only children can do.

“Daddy!” Mel cried.

“Dad!” David chimed in.

I held them to me and my heart ached with love.  I missed
them even though I was finally there with them. The gap of being away seemed
deeper now than when we’d been apart.

“Oh, I missed you guys…” I said, choking back the tears.

David’s arms encircled my neck and squeezed and even though
I ached from the crash, I let it hurt and held my son to me. Mel buried her
face in my neck and leaned into me so hard, I thought I might fall over.

“Missed you, Dad,” Mel said. She looked at me then, smiling,
then a little confused before she asked, “What happened to your face?”

She said this in a tone as if some horrible malady had
befallen me like leprosy, a condition worsened because it was just, well…
gross.

“I had a little accident,” I said. “Nothing serious.”

She looked at me and in my mind she had the ‘you’re full of
shit’ look to her, the look that children adopt in their early teenage years.
But finally, she seemed not to care and hugged me anyway.

I looked past them and saw Alaina standing in the doorway,
arms folded. Her face was hard and unreadable and I feared that the gulf there
would be harder to breach than the one with my children.

“Love you, Dad,” both kids said, one after another.

“Love you, too. Hey, Jess is here too. Go say ‘hi’.”

David and Mel swarmed Jessica, hugging her legs, asking her
to pick them up. She did too, God love her. She was maternal in a way I’d
almost forgotten. She was an incredible woman.

I looked back at the doorway and Alaina was gone. She had
seen us and walked away. I shook my head and made eye contact with Jess. She
saw it too.

“Let’s go in the house, guys,” I suggested. “You can tell me
all about what you’ve been up to, okay?”

The kids agreed, laughing, running and talking over each
other, trying to regale me tales of time spent waiting. I opened the door for
them and they scampered inside, followed by Jessica and finally myself.

Once inside, the smells of the place came back to me and with
them, the memories. The place smelled of cedar and Granny Smith apples and
fresh coffee. Smelled like the home of my youth and for the first time I began
to relax and let myself unwind and not fear that the peace would be shattered.
I was home, with my family and that in the end was all I needed.

Alaina was standing in the open kitchen with her back to us
when I came in.

“Hi,” I said.

Alaina looked at me, turned back to what she was doing then
presented two cups of coffee in saucers. One for myself and one for Jessica. I
took it and handed one to Jess.

There was something on Alaina’s mind and I wanted to know
what it was. I found myself needing to know and perhaps that was a good thing.
In my own way, I’d adopted Alaina as one of my own, and again, in my own way,
perhaps I’d betrayed her the most by leaving.

“We should talk,” she said at last.

I nodded and gestured for the living room area. The place
had been decorated in the style that I’d grown to love. Overstuffed couches and
chairs in durable fabrics or leather. Rich wood table with deep, dark stained
wood accompanied the furniture. Glass hurricane lamps stood lit, waiting for us
to come and sit.

Alaina sat in a leather armchair and put her feet up on the
ottoman, her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. She was watching us, Jess
and I, and I felt a little as if I was being put on trial here. It would have
been well within my bounds to tell Alaina that I owed her no explanation, and
yet, somehow, I felt like I did. She was like a daughter to me, my oldest, if
anything. And I wanted to keep her in the circle of family. As such, she
deserved an explanation.

Jess and I sat on the couch together and David and Mel
filled in between us.

“What happened to your face?” Alaina asked.

“I was hurt during a covert operation,” I said. “I work…
well, worked for a civilian contractor for the NSA.”

“The National Security Agency?” Alaina asked. “Are you
serious?”

“He is,” Jessica offered.

“Do you work for them, too?” Alaina asked.

“No, I don’t,” Jess replied. “But you should know, Simon
helped a lot of people doing some very dangerous things. He’s a hero.”

“I’m not,” I said, unable to meet their eyes. “I’m no hero.
I’m just a man.”

I looked at Alaina and I could feel that side of me harden,
that part of me that thrived in the action on the bridge. I had to share
something with her and so I needed to brace myself for it. At long last, I was
ready.

“Alaina,” I said. “When Claire was alive I started working
for this company… we were called Blackthorn. We collected intelligence for
domestic security operations. It… the work… consumed my life. Obviously it
effected the family.”

Alaina was nodding, piecing it together, but her arms were
still folded across her chest. She wasn’t opening to me, not yet.

“We moved then? Remember?” I asked.

“To Chicago,” Alaina said. “I thought you settled down.”

“I did,” I replied. “But someone from Blackthorn came after
me. He wanted me to do things for him. Things that would have… endangered our
family. Alaina, you have to believe me, I never thought he would come after our
family.”

Alaina was looking at me, unfazed.

“If I ever thought it would have come to that, I would have
done whatever he wanted to stop it,” I said. “Please believe me.”

Alaina didn’t move, then slowly raised a shoulder in a half shrug.

“I believe you,” she said.

“The only way out was to send you guys away, to somewhere
safe,” I said.

“Are we safe here?” Alaina asked, tension creeping into her
voice.

I nodded, then offhandedly pointed at my face.

“I made sure of that,” I said.

“How can you do that?” Alaina asked. “And just walk away. I
mean, you don’t work for them anymore…”

“I don’t,” I replied. “But I know people. I know people that
owe me favors. They have arranged it so that we’re safe and I’m free.”

“But we’re safe?” Alaina asked again.

“We’re safe,” Jessica said. She had both kids clinging to her,
but sandwiched between us.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, Alaina,” I said. “I really am.
I’ll make it up to you, I promise, okay?”

“Yeah, how?” she asked, but there was a smile there now that
hadn’t been there before. She was softening.

“Let’s go shopping tomorrow,” I suggested. “All of us, as a
family.”

The kids cheered and Jess and Alaina seemed to like the
idea. We stayed up talking, and the kids stayed up with us. I knew there was no
hope that we could shuffle them off to bed early, so we kept them up and talked
and shared tales of our time in Chicago. Eventually, Alaina saw most of the big
picture, not everything, but most.

“I need sleep,” I said finally. My eyes were bleary and burning
and I couldn’t keep them open any longer.

“The bedrooms are made up,” Alaina offered.

I thanked her and shuffled off to bed. I slept in my clothes
that night, with Jessica beside me, still in her clothes as well. We laid in
the bed and the kids slept with us, between us, by our feet, sometimes on top
of us. In truth, we welcomed them in and snuggled them under the covers and
slept without rousing for twelve hours.

When finally I woke, I could hear Mel snoring with soft
little baby breath sounds, content with the world. I opened my eyes and saw
Jess, her face inches from mine, head on my pillow, her hair spread out in an
auburn sea. Her eyes were a dark hunter green in the light.

“Good morning,” I said, my voice still hoarse from sleep.

“Morning,” Jess purred dreamily.

And so it began, our life together as a family.

 

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