Debra & Regan Webb & Black - To Honour And To Protect

“That’s the way I like it.” The smile was as firm and as brief as the handshake. “I appreciate your cooperation on such short notice.”

“Didn’t feel like there was much choice, sir.”

“Call me Thomas.”

Another surprise. “Sure.”

“You saw the end of the game, I trust.”

“Yes, thank you.” He wondered if Thomas arranged for the game to be recorded, or if one of his Specialists had pulled it off YouTube.

“It came down to the wire.”

Drew nodded. “Always better for both teams that way.”

“Probably so.” Thomas studied Drew another moment. “Solid effort and a close call incite more determination to win the next game. We understand that here,” he said. “I’ve looked into your background as well as your present situation. What you’re doing in Detroit is good work.”

“I like it,” Drew said, hiding his surprise at the compliment. “And I’d like to get back to it.”

“I’m sure. Let’s talk about that. It’s not my practice to pull people away from good work, but I find myself in a tight spot. I believe your skills and knowledge would be helpful.”

Drew waited in silence, curious. He no longer had the security clearance to even sit in this room. Thomas, having poked through his background, knew that. None of Drew’s kids were into anything that would be of interest to the director. He couldn’t think of a single way he could be helpful, but he’d listen. It would be rude not to after he’d been hauled out here.

“You aren’t curious?” Thomas asked.

“I am.” But he wasn’t going to reveal anything to this master spook by asking questions.

“All right.” Thomas gave a wry chuckle when Drew didn’t elaborate. “Federal authorities made an arrest based on an almost anonymous tip.”

Almost anonymous? Drew hadn’t heard that phrase before.

“The person who shared the information requested that she be left out of it and we’re doing our best to honor that from an investigative standpoint.”

Drew wanted to stop Thomas right there, to point out that he wasn’t in the market for a bodyguard gig, didn’t have the head for it anymore, but he kept his mouth shut and his ears open.

“You’ve been through some hard times, Mr. Bryant.”

“Drew is fine,” he replied, wondering why the subject had changed. If this had something to do with the bastards who’d held him as a POW for six years in a cave in Afghanistan, he might opt in to whatever the director had in mind. A little revenge could go a long way toward healing. It was a dangerous line of thought, but Drew let it play out. Thinking about something and acting on it were two different animals. He’d learned that quickly as a prisoner and in the agonizing months of recovery that followed his escape and rescue.

“Do you feel you’re fit for service?”

Drew met Thomas’s assessing gaze. “Depends on the type of service, I suppose. The army found me to be more hindrance than help.”

“Are you?”

“Didn’t have the chance to find out,” Drew blurted before thinking through a better reply.

“Tell me about your recovery.”

Drew could see no way of avoiding the topic. Not in this room. Better to lay it out there than allow Thomas to continue to entertain his delusions. If the man managed to maintain myth status in a place like Washington, Drew could safely assume his personal secrets wouldn’t leave the room.

Still, he played it close. “Long. Physically, I’d lost muscle mass to the malnutrition and poor conditions. That came back quick enough after a few weeks in the hospital with proper nutrition and a few months of physical therapy. They had to reset an arm and do a little work on my back.”

He still felt guilty and selfish when he thought of those endless days with no contact beyond hospital staff and the occasional visit from a chaplain or army officials. He should have been full of gratitude, but instead he’d battled a terrible sense of loss and isolation no matter how they praised him for surviving.

“I heard your father died while you were a prisoner.”

“Yes.” His superiors had explained valid reasons for not publicizing his return to anyone, not even family. “They showed me the obituary, told me he was buried next to my mom.”

“No one from your past knows you’re alive. There’s no reason to keep your survival a secret now.”

“There’s no reason to throw a parade, either,” Drew countered. “A few people from my old neighborhood recognized me when I came back.”

“I’m sure they were happy to see you.”

“Pretty much.” Almost a year later, he was okay with his neighbors, too. With his father dead, the only other person Drew had wanted to see was the bride he’d left waiting at the altar. She was the final piece of his recovery, and everyone who’d had a hand in it knew he needed to reach out to her. Too bad no one had warned him what he’d find.

Despite the years, having heard about his wedding plans from his father, the neighbors were eager to meet the woman they’d only seen in wedding announcement photos. When he’d felt strong enough, he’d gone looking for her and returned alone. After about six months his neighbors stopped asking about her.

“Took a while to get past all the sympathy,” Drew said. It was all the explanation he felt Thomas needed on his personal life.

“That’s reasonable.”

It sure hadn’t felt that way at the time, but it was done now and he had carved out a new place for himself. He might spend his nights alone, but based on the persistent nightmares, that was for the best.

The back of his neck prickling, Drew wanted to shift the topic back to Thomas’s invasion of his new life, but again he waited quietly for the director to make the move.

“Addison Collins.” Thomas tossed out the name, like a bomb in the middle of his desk, and leaned back to watch Drew’s reaction.

His body went cold at the sound of her name. Suddenly he wanted to talk about the POW camp. The injuries. The nightmares. The dirt cell and lousy food. Anything but her.

“Have you had any contact with your fiancée lately?”

“Former fiancée,” Drew corrected. “And no.” He didn’t even let himself think of her. Not after he’d seen her playing freeze tag with another man and a little boy in San Francisco last fall. He’d been close enough to see the smile on her face, to hear her carefree, happy laughter. Close enough to see the ring on her finger sporting a diamond easily twice the size of the one he’d given her years ago. She’d been so obviously settled and content with her family that he’d walked away rather than ruin her day and twist up her life.

“Why do you ask?” He ignored the calculating gleam in Thomas’s quick smile. Drew could no more hold back that question than stop the next sunrise. With a nearly audible snap, a piece clicked into place. “She’s the tipster.”

“Yes. And she’s gone missing.”

“So ask her husband.” Drew’s throat went dry and his palms went damp. Addi was fine. Had to be fine. He couldn’t accept anything else where she was concerned.

“Well...” Thomas hesitated. “You haven’t seen any of the news coverage on this?”

Drew shook his head. Knowing his emotional limits, he didn’t do any more than scan the local headlines, and sometimes that was more bad news than he could handle.

“Craig Everett.” Thomas opened a file and showed him a picture of the man who’d been with Addi in the park. “He and Ms. Collins planned to marry at the end of the summer, but he’s also gone missing.”

Planned? “She’s not married?” Had he missed an important chance to be with her? It was hard to think about that. He’d been so sure about what he’d seen. Maybe she’d been married and divorced before Everett came along.