BELONGING: Hope, Truth And Malice (Beauty 0f Life Book 3) Read online

  Percy wasn’t sure why they even had a room with this number. They didn’t have a thirteenth floor—it went twelfth floor, concierge floor, and then fourteenth floor—so they shouldn’t have this room number, but they did. Percy mumbled, “God preserve me not that room again.” Percy entered another room number and pressed enter for the sixth time.

  Getting fed up at the long wait, Plouffe stated, “What’s the issue here? Just assign me a goddamned room.”

  Swallowing hard, the skittish, thin man looked up at the scary Special Forces Major through his heavy black plastic glasses. “Sir, I’m trying, but it keeps changing the room number to a room number we rarely ever rent out.”

  “I don’t give a damn about room numbers. Just check me in,” Plouffe commanded harshly.

  Shaking his head, Percy said, “But, Sir … it’s room 666.”

  Plouffe snorted. “Assign the goddamned room. I’m not some superstitious pansy-assed idiot with hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia.”

  The nervous receptionist did as he was told and assigned room 666 to Major Plouffe. Percy crossed himself as he picked up the room card that was programmed to 666 and handed to the Major. “Um, I’m really sorry about this … enjoy your stay with us, Sir. If you need anything, please ask.”

  Nigel grabbed the room card from the weak-minded man and strode towards the elevators. This world was full of idiots.

  TRF HQ – Inside Briefing Room – 2:50 p.m.

  Even though the wailing had stopped, the ears of those inside the briefing room were still ringing with the remembrance of the sound. Sorrow permeated the room as each of them tried to process their emotions after witnessing such an alarming episode. Something in the note had been the catalyst … but for what? Everyone in the room, except one of them, wondered.

  Walter hadn’t moved from Dan’s side the entire time. Unable to get through in any way, he just stood there watching and lightly patting Dan’s back. Memories from the past mingled with the present. Often seeing the little boy instead of the man, Walter fervently hoped that this would be cathartic instead of hurtful.

  Nick picked up the picture of Dan and stared at it again as tension and worry filled him. He imagined that was the same cry heard that day. That hit deep—in some ways it was so similar the cry he himself had released when he found Martin’s bullet ridden body under Janie’s. Anger boiled below the surface—son of a bitch—he’d allowed exactly what he told Dan he didn’t want to happen to occur. Nick had caused Dan more hurt. What was this all about? How could they help?

  Jon and Blaze had bloodied their fists punching the concrete walls in their frustration and inability to cut through the barrier to rescue Dan from his torment. After helping put Dan on the gurney they resumed storming back and forth. They were both trying very hard to dissipate the fury of helplessness that engulfed them.

  Winds had remained in the same spot the entire time. He stood dead still, silent, unresponsive, and staring out the window. His mind wondered if this was it all too much. Did Blondie just lose the last piece of his soul? Was this what it sounded like when the body lived but the soul died? Did the General finally succeed and kill his son in the worst way possible?

  Lexa had sought out Bram’s arms for fatherly comfort during the screaming. It was so crushing that her heart shattered. She’d screamed like that into her pillow after her mother died. She couldn’t bear to see Dan in so much pain. In the past twenty-four hours, he’d waded through hell and come out smiling.

  To see him laid low now by mere written words was just too much. She couldn’t fathom what could do that to him. After covering him with the blanket and tucking him in, she stood next to Dan, unconsciously stroking his sun-kissed hair as she gazed sightlessly out the window.

  Bram had found strength and solace himself by being able to help at least one of his teammates as he’d held Lexa. He had tried desperately to figure out something or some words that would help Dan. When Lexa released her hold on him, he helped move Dan to the gurney.

  He’d known that Dan had a wounded soul, but Bram never imagined Dan’s suffering had been so profound. He wondered how much Dan could take. Bram walked to the table and picked up the file folder. He found there were other pictures in it. As he flipped through, Bram found one of a lovely blonde headed, green eyed little girl with a beautiful smile. Bram thought, So this is your Sara—you have the same smile. Bram didn’t notice the tears that slid down his face as he stared at the lovely little girl and grief for a life lost filled him.

  Loki had pulled a chair next to the gurney, sat down, and refused to let go of Dan’s hand. Silently he was telling Dan repeatedly that he wouldn’t let go. Deep concern and a bit of fear etched themselves on Loki’s face.

  Ray had placed his hands onto Loki’s shoulders, offering added strength to his thoroughly distraught best friend. He could see that Loki was on the edge. Dan’s howling had unsettled him also. Whatever was in the note had hit Dan at the core of his being. Ray hated to see his brothers in such pain.

  Ottawa – Naval Staff HQ – Commander Broderick’s Office – 3:00 p.m.

  Commander Erik Broderick looked up as his aide entered his office. He waited until the Able Seaman came to a stop and he said, “At ease. Have you had any luck with contacting Lieutenant Collins yet?”

  “No, Sir. They arrived in port last night and he has a two-day leave. He hasn’t responded to my repeated calls, Sir.”

  Erik nodded and saw the folder in the young Seaman’s hand. “Okay, try again in about a half hour. What do you have for me?”

  “The paperwork you requested for to authorize emergency leave for Able Seaman Kyle Broderick. I’ve filled out everything except the dates, Sir. All it requires is the dates and your signature.” He handed over the folder.

  “Thank you, that’s all for now.” Erik opened the folder. He wanted to have everything in order in case he had to override Kyle’s CO. That man was on a power trip and Kyle had had several issues with him in the past few months. This was one time Erik would gladly use his authority to secure his son’s leave if necessary. Although he preferred to let Kyle fight his own battles—and Kyle wanted it that way, too—Scott’s call a few hours ago sharing the news that Dan had been injured, might mean things would just have to change.

  He had tried to reach Will, but he was getting no signal. Erik had then contacted Colonel Sutton and felt some relief when he found out that Will was actually on his way to Toronto right now. Erik would wait until later tonight, give Will a chance to check on Danny, and then they’d determine when the right time would be for all the Broderick men to show up.

  Jeff and Kyle were the only ones who hadn’t secured leave. Kyle because his CO was being an ass and Jeff because he was in the field with his latest group of basic training recruits and they hadn’t been in touch with him yet. Erik looked at his clock. Mark should be done with his conference in a few hours. He needed to place a call to his second eldest brother and bring him up to speed and so Mark could contact his son, Jeff, in the field if needed.

  Erik dialed his younger brother and when it connected, he said, “Ryan, glad I caught you. I know you’re busy, so I won’t keep you long. The timeframe to visit Danny might need to change. Scott called me earlier … you’re not going to believe what’s happened to Danny now.”

  Grand Citadel Hotel – Room 666 – 3:10 p.m.

  Plouffe slammed his laptop closed. Pletcher had fouled up when he sent the wire transfer to his account. Jorge hadn’t used the encrypted key as he was supposed to do.

  Nigel prided himself on how he kept his hands clean. No one could trace anything back to him—ever. He was too smart for that. But Pletcher had just transferred the money without the encryption. “Fucking idiot!”

  If he hadn’t needed Pletcher’s contacts years ago, he would’ve dissolved their partnership. Jorge fouled up in his attempt to kill Becca. How in the world could Pletcher bollix that up? Becca was just a ditzy, air-headed, party girl. He should’ve just strangled her t
o death after screwing her—but no … Jorge wanted to make it look like an accident so he took her to France—idiocy!

  Then Jorge fouled up again when he left his burner phone out and Becca snooped and found Plouffe’s text offering Jorge money to kill her. It was a damned good thing that the burner phone couldn’t be traced back to him and the signals bounced through so many tower nodes that it would be damned near impossible to locate the source node. He’d destroyed that phone and gotten another one since then.

  High and mighty General Broderick would never in his lifetime figure out who was making his life hell. Nigel enjoyed making Broderick pay for messing up all his plans—slowly, painfully, many times and in many ways. Now … now it was no longer just General Broderick that had to pay.

  Daniel Broderick was no longer just a tool—no longer just his toy soldier he used to hurt the General. No, now his toy soldier must die—he was no longer innocent. But damn he was hard to kill—he needed assurances that Daniel Broderick would be dead—soon.

  Plouffe texted Pletcher again, Make the toy soldier your priority.

  The reply was, No, too hot.

  Nigel typed out quickly, I want toy soldier dead before funeral.

  Not happening. Have to lay low. Galloway too hot on my heels.

  Plouffe fumed and chucked his phone at the wall. “Goddamned Pletcher!”

  He knew that Pletcher was not fully under his control—he was in it for the money only. Now Plouffe had to figure out how to get it done because all his minions were in Kandahar at this time. There was no way to get them here without raising questions. Dammit!

  As Nigel realized he wouldn’t be able to kill his toy soldier before the funeral, he flipped over the table, sending the contents flying and scattering across the floor. In his fit of rage, Plouffe didn’t see the sheet of paper that floated under the dresser. If he had, he would’ve retrieved it instantly.

  Chapter Forty-One

  TRF HQ – Inside Briefing Room – 3:15 p.m.

  Everyone had been silent for a very long time. No one could bear to say anything. Soothing silence was preferable to any sound.

  Winds finally broke out of his near catatonic state. He suddenly turned, aggressively stepped toward Gambrill, and said in a voice of barely contained rage, “You damn well better explain something to us now or I will kill the General when he gets here. I assume that’s who you called. You know something about this. I know the General—he’ll never explain. So if you want him to live, you’ll explain. Now!”

  All faces ping ponged between Winds and Gambrill, waiting for him to respond.

  Walter expelled a weary sigh as he dropped to a chair. He’d read and reread the note. It truly was the key. He was upset with himself for not following up on the investigation back then. “It’s not really for me to share, but ...”

  Blaze didn’t hear the ‘but’ and he flared red hot in a manner that everyone could see matched his nickname, “I don’t care if it’s for you to share. Tell me now or I will kill you, too!”

  Jon placed his hand on Blaze’s shoulder and noticed for the first time the dried blood on his knuckles. Well, that was stupid, he thought, now recalling that he’d punched the concrete wall. At least I didn’t bust my knuckles. Jon lightly squeezed Blaze’s shoulder and said, “Let the man talk.”

  The touch and simple words banked the fire in Blaze enough that he was able to walk to the far corner of the room, a safe distance from Gambrill, and slump to the floor with his back against the wall. Jon joined Blaze in a symbolic gesture to their earlier connection.

  Gambrill sat silently a moment longer to determine how to explain. “I’m not sure where to start. It’s messy and confusing because human emotions are involved, so it might be best if I start with a problem statement and try to tie everything back to it.”

  He looked at the concerned faces before he started again. “Simply stated, the problem is … Dan thinks his family, especially his father, has forsaken him. He believes that all his father ever wanted was a perfect soldier, not a son. Danny also believes that he’s responsible for Sara’s death, that William blames him for her death, and that his failure to protect Sara means he isn’t accepted by or worthy of the family’s love.

  “William’s and Dan’s relationship over the past nineteen years has been one misstep after another. Each trying, in their own way, to fix something, to prove something, but nothing has ever worked. Things have worked against them and they end up further and further apart each time.”

  Walter stopped to give them time to register his words. “William believes that the events of the day Sara died and several following days are pieces to a complex puzzle, but there has always been a missing piece. The General knows exactly how his failures contributed to the problem, but he’s been trying so long to figure out how certain things got into Dan’s head—things that are unaccounted for by Williams’s words or deeds.”

  Taking a small moment to control his emotions, Walter then said, “I’ve always felt that if we could figure out the mystery … the how or why … then there would be hope for them to mend their relationship. The suicide note gave insight to those final unknown pieces of the puzzle.

  “I think when Dan read the note, his adult brain recognized the fallacies his nine-year-old brain had latched onto and convoluted. I think what we witnessed was his anguish at recognizing the years lost living under misconceptions. I’m hoping when Danny awakens that he understands the truth.”

  His voice a bit shaken, but hopeful, Walter stated, “Because if he knows the truth—what really happened … Danny might be able to release the pain he has carried for years living with the false perception that his family rejected him and that he was unworthy and responsible for Sara’s death. There would be hope that William and Dan could reconcile, that Yvonne would get her boy back, and Danny would accept the embrace and the love of his family again.”

  Gambrill stopped, needing time to figure out what to say next.

  Turning and focusing her eyes on the Commander, Lexa stated, “If we’re going to help Dan, we need to understand this puzzle. Then we can help him put it together and see the true picture.”

  Walter grabbed a water bottle, opened it, and took a sip before he answered. “Okay, I’ll do my best. Let’s start with the pieces the General is certain play a part of the problem—his own actions. As I told you, the General is a hard man, but he was never cruel.”

  Blaze, Winds, and Patch all grunted and shared a disgusted look at that statement. They all knew without a doubt that was a fucking lie. They knew just how cruel the General had been, but they chose to keep their mouths shut for now.

  Walter looked at Dan’s old unit buddies, confused by their reactions. “After the day of the accident and the several subsequent days, William became fully aware that his insistence that Dan call him ‘Sir’, drilling him to follow orders, and the way he dealt with the boy when he messed up, were all contributing factors, as were his rigorously high expectations of Danny.

  “William always expected Danny to behave in an adult manner even though he was a boy. When Dan messed up the only acceptable responses were ‘Yes, Sir’, ‘No, Sir’, ‘I’m sorry, Sir’, ‘My fault, Sir’ or, “Won’t happen again, Sir’ or any combination of them. But by the time William recognized this, certain behaviors had become so ingrained in Danny that they wouldn’t change.”

  “Dan only addresses his father as Sir or General. He always takes responsibility when things go wrong—even if it isn’t his fault, Dan thinks he could’ve or should’ve done something to prevent it. He also has the belief that any mistake made must never be repeated. And finally, direct orders from a superior must always be followed.”

  Everyone nodded. They had all seen evidence of those ingrained behaviors.

  “How did he know these were pieces of the puzzle?” Nick asked.

  “By the way Danny reacted after the accident. When I found out what happened, I went directly to William’s home to inform him personally. Yvo
nne collapsed upon hearing the news. Luckily, her sister Ann was there and she took charge of Yvonne and Becca so William could go to Danny. The ambulance was arriving to take Yvonne to the hospital as William and I left his home.

  Walter’s his voice shook slightly as memories of the sights and sounds he’d witnessed that day assaulted him. “When we got to the accident scene, William was devastated by what he saw. His beautiful Sara was covered in blood and laying on the ground—dead. His beloved boy was covered in Sara’s blood, one hand holding onto Sara’s hand, and the other clutching her shoes to his chest. Danny was howling in the same manner we just experienced, but also screaming Sara’s name.”

  After taking several calming breaths, Walter regained his self-control. “It had taken us about twenty or thirty minutes to get to the accident scene. The officer in charge told us that Danny had been screaming like that the entire time and wouldn’t let anyone near Sara. No one could get through to him, just like now. As William approached Danny, a photographer took that godawful picture.” His finger pointed to the one they had viewed earlier.

  “William has always been very protective of his family and didn’t want his son photographed in such torment. He was so outraged that he knocked the guy out cold with one punch. Before going to Danny, he knelt by Sara, stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, and whispered something to her.” Gambrill sat silently, absorbed in the terrible memory.

  A soft sob escaped from Lexa as she said, “Dan did those same exact motions with Sara Clarry yesterday.”

  The team all nodded.

  Gambrill started again, “William then went to Danny—he was still screaming and holding onto Sara’s hand and shoes. William tried everything to get through—he pleaded so many ways using soft words. William was crying himself—unheard of for him in public. It hit William so powerfully that he couldn’t control his own emotions in the face of his son’s anguish. Danny wouldn’t let go of Sara or let William hold him—the only touch Danny allowed was his father stroking his hair.