The Heart's Shrapnel (10 page)

Jane

He refuses to answer my question. I shouldn’t be shocked. Kevin was the same way. I hate to think it’s because Phillip might have more going on than he’ll admit. Kevin got into some pretty heavy stuff that turned him into a monster. I can’t go through that again. And, Phillip always evades my questions. He’s hiding something.

Is he more than just army?

Phillip rushes to put his shirt back on. I was turned away earlier, but this time, I’m watching. This time, I know, I’m right.

How could I have forgotten about all those scars?

Spread across his back are scars from bullet wounds and slash marks. Torture wounds. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. The sight fills me with dread and pity for the man before me.

“What happened to you? That can’t all be from being a soldier. I don’t buy it.”

The muscles in his back flex. He bows his head while bringing a clenched fist to rest against the door with his shirt just over his wrists. He turns around to face me and his eyes reveal what he doesn’t want to say.

“Phillip, my God . . .”

His jaw ticks and his mouth sets into a grim line. He drops his shirt to the floor. “Jane, stop. Listen, these are from various things, and they happened a long ago.”

A tear escapes from the corner of my eye. “I can see that. But others are more recent. This can’t just be from training soldiers. Were you captured? Are you doing something on the side? Something you shouldn’t be?”

He quickly runs a hand down his face

“Jane. Enough,” he warns.

“Those are the kinds of wounds you get from terrorists!”

I’m pushing him. His whole body is straining for patience. His chest is thick, hard muscle, and I have to fight to keep my mind focused.

“What do you think goes on in places like that? Huh?” he half shouts. “You think people sign up, and it’s a walk through the park? Every job has its risks!”

“And mine doesn’t?”

He gapes at me, his mouth slightly ajar.

“This morning you told me not to take that job, but you wouldn’t give me a reason. I’m a surgeon, Phillip. I deal with death on a regular basis, but I also save lives. Mine isn’t threatened, and yet you think you have the right to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

He storms up to me and towers over my small stature. I wait for him to say something. He waits a few seconds and rubs his hands over his tired face.

“I have my reasons, and you assured me that you wouldn’t go. And I thank you for that. But damn it, my job is different and can’t be discussed.” His voice softens. “I’m sorry.”

I find myself starting to relax. “I know all about it, Phillip. Don’t forget I dated a soldier for years. Kevin told me nothing. Naïve as I was, I trusted him and let him do as he pleased.” I choke on the last word, and he pulls me into a hug, cradling me once more. I’m surprised I’m letting him and that he’s even doing it in the first place. “I’m sorry.” I sob into his bare chest.

“It’s okay.” He runs soothing circular motions across my back. I could stay like this forever.

“No, it’s not. You’re probably going through something really serious, and I’m making it worse. I just wanted a nice dinner.”

He inhales against my hair, sending a tingle all the way down my spine. “The dinner was great. Your lasagna has spoiled me.”

I laugh. “Thanks.” Wiping at my eyes, I step away from his strong arms and calm myself. What a crazy night. “I bet you are exhausted.”

“I’m fine.”

I cross my arms, studying his face. “Somehow I get the feeling you’ll always say that even when you aren’t.”

Phillip says nothing as he looks at me.

A clock ticks in the background, and I’m even more aware now how alone we are here in this tiny bathroom.

“I probably should go,” he announces while going to the door. He stops and turns to me. “It’s getting late, and we both have work in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“You okay?” he asks, reaching behind him for the doorknob.

I smile. “Yeah. Sorry tonight turned out so sucky.” Damn my eyes. If I blink, he’ll know for sure that I’m tearing up again. But, it doesn’t matter. He sees them welling up ready to fall. Letting go of the knob, he practically lunges at me. I brace for the impact, but he still manages to force me back against the wall.

Taking my face between his hands, he nips at my bottom lip, and I do the same to the top of his. He moans, and I sweep my tongue over his bottom lip. Our kiss turns feverish. I want him to touch me all over, but he places his hands on the wall on either side of my head instead. Why won’t he touch me?

He groans into my mouth and lightly pounds the wall next to my ear.

Leaning his forehead upon mine, he says, “I’ve got to stop.”

Closing my eyes, I wait as disappointment washes over me. Finally, I stare into his tired eyes. “Why does this feel like good-bye?”

He kisses me one last time, slow and sensuous, almost bringing me to my knees.

“It kind of is since I have to go to Afghanistan.” He traces a finger down the length of my arm—goose bumps chasing after his touch.

“Oh.”

“I’m not sure when I’ll see you again if ever.” He places another panty-melting kiss on my mouth. “Your lips are so kissable.” He lightly laughs.

I grin. “Yours, too.”

Kissing me on the nose, he winks and leaves without another word. His shirt lays crumpled on the bathroom floor. I watch through my bedroom window as his truck pulls away into the night and wonder what this all means and if I’ve opened too much to him already. A piece of my heart leaves with him and I know I have.

***

“Summers,” General Mayfield greets me as the men stow the last of my bags. This is the first time I’ve met him and I feel out of my realm. “You set to depart?”

I barely got to enjoy this place, and now I’m leaving to another—something I didn’t think I’d be asked to do as a volunteer. But, I could use the distraction. Mandy and Lily are going to be furious I didn’t tell them good-bye.

“Ready,” I say and climb into the vehicle. He stands at the door and waits until I’m situated.

“I can’t tell you how much we appreciate you stepping up and providing us with your services. I tried to keep this from happening, but what staff there is now is no longer sufficient. At any rate, I wanted to thank you in person before you left.”

“It’s an honor, sir.”

General Mayfield nods, but his mouth thins. “I’ll see you over there.” He shuts the door and bangs on the outside of the vehicle a few times. Leaning back against the seat, I reflect on all that’s happened since I arrived. I’ve learned so much. The respect I’ve gained has been remarkable.

We travel to Frankfurt, Germany to board the plane for Afghanistan. The flight is roughly seven hours but it feels much longer. I don’t know why, but once I exit the plane, a shawl covering my head, I look for Phillip. He never told me where in Afghanistan he would be stationed, but I suspect it’s near the place I am.

I decided to come after learning more about the serious need for surgeons, and my supervisor telling me the general basically ordered me to go. Surely Phillip can understand that.

The army has provided two men to escort me off the plane as discussed and to my temporary lodging.

An Afghan man approaches us. “Welcome. A car will be arriving to take you to your temporary lodging for the night.” His accent is thick and he’s wearing a turban.

I couldn’t feel more out of place and alone.

“Might I suggest only taking what you will need for the night and the next morning?” The one soldier says to me. “The rest of your luggage will be safe until your driver picks you up at 0900 to take you to where you will be staying. We,” he looks at the other soldier, “will both be there to escort you down.”

“Yes. Thank you.” I grab my travel bag with extra clothing I was told I’d need and head in the direction the man points and wait for the driver with the two soldiers. He arrives just minutes later, and I’m thankful. It’s just now hitting me where I am, and how dangerous of a place this can be.

We hop in the back of the car. The driver looks much like the Afghani man from earlier—the same style of clothes and heavy accent. I try to squelch back my nerves but it doesn’t work.

“Will there be a phone in my room?” I ask, but he doesn’t respond. His dark, judging eyes meet mine in the mirror. Once I’m sure he isn’t going to answer, I shrink back in my seat. It’s so hot that I’m already sticking to my clothing.

“Yes, Ms. Summers,” the soldier to the left of me says.

We arrive and the soldiers get out with me.

The hotel is much nicer than one would expect for a place like this. It has shiny floors, nice furnishings, and cool air. Even the staff dresses professionally. That alone gives me comfort.

Once I’m safely checked into my room, the soldiers having just gone, I remove my shawl and find the phone next to my bed. Dialing out was a little confusing, but I am able to call my mother.

“Honey, how are you!” my mother cries into the phone. It’s so good to hear her voice.

“I’m good,” I smile.

“How’s Germany? Do you love your volunteer work?”

I want tell her I am no longer stationed there but decide against it. It’ll be too much for her to handle. She already was sick with worry about my assignment in Germany let alone Afghanistan. That’s the last thing I need while I’m doing my job.

“It’s great mother. The staff has been amazing. It’s a different experience over here. I’m enjoying it.”

“That’s wonderful honey.” She starts to say something else but doesn’t. I know what she’s about to ask, and honestly I don’t want to think about him. “Has Kevin tried to get in contact with you? Have you run into him?”

My heart sinks at the mention of his name. “No, he’s probably busy trying to find a part-time job back home.”
Or some woman
, I think to myself. “He isn’t here.”

I didn’t think of that. With soldiers being sent here from Germany, it would make sense that others would be asked.

“I hope you are safe. You know you can give his name to whoever is in charge, and they will keep an eye out.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I placate her. “Well, I gotta run, mom. I’m going out with a group of friends in a few.” It feels terrible to lie to her, but I can’t stand the thought of her worrying.

“It’s so good to hear your voice, Jane. Call me when you can and know that Daddy and I love and miss you so much.”

“Love you both.” I hang up before I do something stupid like tell her where I am. I’m probably not allowed, come to think of it.

I move my travel bag into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Steam quickly fills the room. I step in, and my thoughts turn to Phillip. He’s going to be upset, but what was I supposed to do? This was a volunteer assignment that I eagerly accepted. The opportunity was too good to pass up—not to mention that I needed to get away from Kevin. He wasn’t on active duty when I left, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be soon. But, he could go anywhere, I assure myself. It doesn’t have to be here. He sent me a few texts before I left post. Somehow he found out that I came here.

My thoughts return to Phillip and how tender he was with me last night—how he held me and let me cry. I’ve never been treated that way by another man before in my life. Even my father was distant even though I knew he loved me. But, Phillip? He’s caring. I see that even more now. I wonder what’s changed from the moment we first met to last night. He’s like night and day.

Images of his scars taunted me all through the night. Each one opened and poured blood. His screaming was jarring, and I awoke in a panic. Cold sweat beaded my body. Something tells me there’s more to the story than what Phillip is willing to give, and I’m just not sure I can take another Kevin in my life. Even if he’s sweet.

Wes

I can’t get the mental image of my fist pounding the skull of Jane’s ex out of my head. One knockout punch is all it would take to flatten him. Kevin. That’s the name she had used. I wonder if she even realized she’d said it.

“We’re here!” Ryan hollers, pulling me away from my thoughts. This is home right now—dirt yards and tents.

I start toward HQ to find out what the plan is. Mayfield was right. Dylan came back with proof of military guns stored for shipment here in Afghanistan. But I already knew this from Leonard’s findings. No weapons of mass destruction were found, thankfully.

But these guns—this has to be somehow connected with my brother’s murder. Even Ryan had said I (he) had started acting differently after the last mission, which just so happened to have been in Afghanistan. He’d done a tour here a little over a year ago. He must have seen or heard something he shouldn’t have. Or maybe he was involved in some serious wrongdoing. No. I don’t believe that. I knew my brother, well, and he is no traitor.

My phone rings before I make it to HQ.

“Yeah?”

“It’s Leonard. The Iraqi wasn’t lying. It’s the general. Those guns that were reported missing and the focus of our investigation? It’s all because of him and it’s all on his computer.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

So General Mayfield is the one who’s been stealing army property. No wonder it’s been difficult to find the culprit. I could turn him in right now. But I can’t just yet. There are too many unanswered questions.

“Damn. What the hell for?”

“Beats me, boss.”

“Alright. Touch base later.”

I hang up with Leonard and decide to follow protocol just this once and report our findings to my superior. At a time like this that isn’t easy. I inform my boss this isn’t the time with the threat of an attack. He agrees and then reminds me of our motto:
Do what has to be done.
And I plan on doing just that.

“McClintock! It’s about time you got your ass here!” General Mayfield shouts as I enter. There’re men on either side of him leaving just us four. He’s keeping his help on the inside few it seems—smart. But it also makes him look extremely guilty.

“What’s the status?” I ask ignoring his little childish jab. I really have come to hate the man.

“There’s been sightings all around the area. They’re getting ready to move.” He lifts up a picture of the many scattered already on the table and tosses it in my direction. I pick it up and study it. There are pictures upon pictures of men meeting secretly and trading crates for money . . . crates equal guns.

“Shit,” I scrape a hand down my face.

“Exactly. I expect they’ll want to act soon, so I’ll need you to prepare your men. There isn’t much time.”

He couldn’t be more correct. “Will do.” I turn to leave.

“McClintock.”

I turn around as he asks the two men beside him to leave.

He slowly walks up to me, staring directly into my eyes.

“I got word of an Iraqi who was reportedly kidnapped and brutally beaten by American soldiers,” he says, his words accusing.

It doesn’t take any effort to hide my emotions.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

I stare him right in the eye, not letting him see the truth. The man is nothing but a coward and a traitor. “No, sir.”

He searches my eyes, looking for any signs of deception. But the truth lies within him. His forehead laces with a sheen of sweat, and there is a slight twitch in his eye. “Good, because we could handle it, whatever it is.”

You make me sick . . .

“I assure you, sir. My men and I have no interest in some Iraqi. Aside from what’s going on now, I have no knowledge of this.”

The general eyes me speculatively once more before nodding.

I salute him, turn on my heel, and leave.

So, the Iraqi squealed.

“They know we’re here,” I say as I approach Dylan and Leonard as they unload our things into our tent where we will be staying. Ryan was off somewhere. I’ve made sure it’s just the four of us in our tent—don’t need others to overhear. Ryan being in here will be a challenge, but he’s supposed to be my (Phillip’s) best friend. So, it wouldn’t look right if I had him bunk elsewhere. And, since he was my brother’s best friend, I consider him mine as well.

“The Afghans? How? We were careful.” Dylan plops down onto his rolled up duffle.

“Hell if I know. But they’re setting up.” My phone beeps and I check it, but not before I make sure no one is too close to our tent. The men look at me.

“Boss’s calling.” I mouth to Leonard to keep a lookout for Ryan before I take the call.

“McClintock.”

“What’s the status?”

“The Afghans know we’re here. The general confronted me about it. He’s got several photos documenting secret meetings to exchange military grade weapons. They’re preparing for battle.”

“Shit. I hate that you’re being dragged into this when you’re there for your brother—”

“My brother knew about this and now he’s dead. So I have to be involved.”

“All right, then. But, this isn’t good. I’m starting to think we have a mole.”

It’s what I suspected, too, but I’m not sure who it is. It could be anyone working this case.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask.

“You’re CID, you do what has to be done, remember? If the general proves to be the traitor as well as your brother’s killer, we’ve got a major problem to deal with. Shit!” he shouts. “Keep your eyes and ears open. Someone is working with Mayfield. They have to be.”

I hate that I do this, but I look at Leonard and Dylan. No—it couldn’t be any of my men. Why would they risk something like this? Ryan?

“Understood.”

“You guys are doing great. The CID appreciates your hard work. Like I said, do what needs to be done. Find the proof. Take care of the people who are affected in the aftermath. After you catch him, we turn this over.”

“Thank you, sir. Will do.”

“And, McClintock.” He pauses. “You have my backing.” I hang up my burner phone.

“What did he say?” Dylan asks.

I scrub my hand down my face and look at both of them. “To do whatever is necessary to find out if the general killed my brother . . . and the CID might have a rat among us.”

***

“Where’s Ryan?” Leonard asks as he sits next to Dylan on his cot.

“I sent him out to do inventory. Should keep him busy for a while at least,” I answer from my cot.

Leonard leans in, resting his elbows on his knees, and whispers, “Good, I need to talk to you about him.”

I scoot forward to try and hear him better. “What about him? You don’t think he knows anything . . .”

“I kind of hope so, because that means the snitch isn’t anyone on our side like the boss believes. Anyway. No, it’s not that. It’s you.”

I cock my head to the side. What the hell did I do? “What about me?”

“Ryan’s come to me recently. Thinks something is off with you . . . well,
Phillip
.”

I sigh loudly. “Something
is
off with me. I’m not Phillip.”

“What did he say?” Dylan asks.

Leonard looks from him to me. “He asked why you’re different; why you talk different. Basically, your whole personality changed.”

“So, tell him I’m effed in the head!”

He shakes his head. “I did. I reemphasized how you were already different since the last mission. He’s already brought that up, so I didn’t think it would harm anything by using that.” He scratches his head. “Look, Wes, you might have to piss off the dude so he’ll stop caring so much. Phillip was his best friend. He’s bound to be curious. He could get in the way.” The use of my real name sounds odd to my ears since I haven’t heard it much since I started this mission.

“Damn it,” I mutter.

“If you think about it,
mi amigo,
we don’t really know him,” Dylan says. “Leonard and I have only been here a few months on our investigation of drug usage among the soldiers. That’s not a lot of time to get to know someone in this instance.”

“Well, you interacted with both Phillip and Ryan. How did he seem to you?” I ask Dylan.

“Phillip? Uneasy. Ryan?” He shrugs, pondering his answer. “Fine. Normal, I’d say.”

I might have to tell Ryan who I am. I could tell he felt something was off with me . . . Phillip. Maybe he knows. No one can be trusted.

“No, Wes. I know what you’re thinking, and the answer’s no,” Leonard says. “It’s against regulations and you know it.”

Yeah, I know all about regulations.

“Don’t forget what it took to get you here,” he continues.

“My brother was shot and killed!” I shout, jumping to my feet.

Leonard does the same. “I know that!” he shouts back, standing and getting in my face.

I remain firm in my stance.

“I found him, remember? But you know working in the CID they don’t like family working cases involving family. Hell, that’s anywhere.”

“You both either shut your mouths or take a walk, damn it.” Dylan intervenes in a harsh whisper. “There’s people all around us. And when the hell did we become sloppy, huh? Get your
mierda
together. We need to focus; get a plan.”

Leonard and I eye each other before sitting down again. We’ve argued before and this isn’t any different. He knows I’d do anything for him, and him, me.

Leonard gets back to business and says, “Okay, so as you know, the inventory showed a missing shipment of guns for the soldiers. Several actually, over a period of time.”

“It’s probably just some punk new recruits thinking their
pollas
are bigger than the rest of the soldiers here,” Dylan says.

I shake my head. “It’s General Mayfield.”

“How can you be sure?” Dylan asks.

“Leonard?” I direct the question at him.

He eyes me before answering, “I tapped into his computer files when he was away; found documentation of him ordering the guns.”

“And?” Dylan adds expectantly. “Come on. You and I both know that doesn’t mean
mierda
.”

“Yes, I do. That’s why I dug further,” Leonard informs him.

I lean back on my cot. Leonard and I have already discussed this. That’s why we’re here in the first place. “He has a latch tucked inside his office drawer. I lifted it and found the papers where he signed off on the guns. It’s his handwriting. I made sure.”

“Meaning the guns did arrive,” I add.

Dylan looks as if he surprised we’ve figured this out. He shouldn’t be. I’ve never come back from a mission empty-handed.

“Wow . . .” Dylan says.

“Wow is right,” Leonard agrees. “Wes has already spoken with the commanding general. He’s going to the army chief of staff and the secretary. But, he’s giving us time to find out if the involvement extends to Phillip.”

“So, what do we do now? Lay low?” Dylan asks.

“No, not exactly,” I say. “I have a feeling this isn’t as cut-and-dried as it seems.”

***

I move quickly across the desert sand, but make no noise despite wearing boots. I made sure to tell General Mayfield the three of us were scouting out the location of the Afghan camp site—which is true, but it’s not the whole truth.

A vehicle comes into my line of vision, and I immediately cease movement. Holding my sniper rifle against my chest, I raise a hand and signal the men to stop.

“To my right,” I mouth to Ryan. Leonard, who stayed to keep an eye on things, suggested I let Ryan come on this trip since it has to do with the army only and could reveal possible signs that he’s betraying us. I need to get him feeling like we’re close. He nods and carefully lies down behind the sand mound.

Dylan goes to my left, leaving me in the middle. Peering into my scope, I scan the area. There’s more here than I suspected at least thirty men. More will be showing up later, I’m sure. I turn slightly to my left to observe four vehicles approaching. They each have tarps covering the cargo.

Ryan shoots me a questioning look and mouths the word
guns
. Peering into my scope again, I focus on the first one. Five men gather around, untie all four sides of the tarp, and toss it to the side.

What we see next has all of us frozen in place. They start yelling orders and one by one, women step out, locals, by the looks of it.

Shit.

“We have to get to those women, Phillip,” Ryan whispers.

I keep my eyes trained on what the men are doing. So far, they are just yelling, but the women flinch and cling to one another. I don’t answer Ryan. He knows Phillip well enough to know I’m already hatching a plan.

I motion for them to fall back. There’s not much the three of us can do. I’ll let the boss know first, then Mayfield, if he sees fit. Ryan doesn’t need to know I don’t give a shit about what General Mayfield has to say.