Sandra Hill (30 page)

He could swear Sam rolled her eyes and meowed, “At last.”

Ian got up, let Sam out, then followed her around to the front of the house. Every couple of feet, Sam would stop and look back at him to see if he was following; then she would continue on her trek. She was probably taking him to a fish store or something. But no, Sam went down the street, crossed over, then started to walk behind a small Cape Cod-style house with an overgrown lawn and shabby exterior.

“Sam, come back here,” he said in a loud whisper, not wanting to wake anyone who might still be asleep in the house. There didn’t seem to be any activity around the place, but he’d seen a red car in the garage through the small glass windows of the door.

Red
car? Holy shit! Geek had said the tangos took Maddie away in a red car. No, it was impossible. This would be too much of a coincidence. But then he remembered his prayer less than an hour ago. He glanced skyward and thought,
I’ve heard of the power of prayer. If this is what I think it is, You have made me a believer.

He followed Sam to the back of the house, where she sat near the back corner, meowing. There was no basement that he could see, at least no basement windows, but Sam seemed to sense something there.

“Is Maddie down there?” he asked Sam.
I’m either crazy or really smart, not only talking to a cat, but expecting an answer.

Sam meowed.

From inside the house, Ian thought he heard someone complain, “It’s that damn cat again.”

Another person said, “I’m going to shoot it.”

Ian looked at Sam, whose ears perked up. Then she shot away toward home.

“No, you’re not. You can’t attract any attention from the neighbors.”

Then another person must have entered the room. This one spoke in Arabic.

Ian’s heart began racing and his heart lifted hopefully. He walked carefully toward the front. Then he took a chance and peered into the garage. Yep, a red Mustang convertible. Sam was sitting there waiting for him on the front sidewalk.

With a joyous spirit, he ran off, a surprisingly agile Sam beside him. When he got back to his house, he rushed into the kitchen, where the whole bunch of them were sitting at his table or standing around, all of them scarfing down the gourmet meal of eggs and beer. The motley bunch looked at him expectantly.

Ian smiled, for the first time in what seemed like forever, and said, “I’ve found Maddie.”

Inside, though, he had one last prayer: “Please, God, let her still be alive.”

She gave new meaning to the term “senior citizen” …

Madrene was beginning to loathe garlic.

She was lying on a blanket on the floor, having emptied her stomach once again into a smelly bucket in the corner. That was when she heard a tap-tap-tapping noise on the upper part of the wall.

It must be a mouse.
She rolled over and tried to think of more pleasant times, to get her mind off her nausea. Of course, Ian came immediately to mind. She forced herself to go back farther into her memory, to those times when she and her family had all been alive and safe in their homeland.

The tapping started again. This time, the sound seemed to have a pattern to it. Tap, tap … tap, tap, tap, tap … tap, tap … tap, tap, tap, tap. She stood and walk over to the wall, peering up. That was when she heard the most joyful thing.

“Maddie? Are you there? Maddie?” a voice said in a loud whisper.

It had to be Ian.

“I’m here,” she yelled. Then caught herself. “I’m here,” she repeated in a low voice.

“Stay put, babe.”

She wasn’t able to do anything else.

“We’re coming after you.” Then there was silence.

Madrene had much to worry about then … and not just her own well-being. Musab Khazim, the man who’d arrived last night, was more vicious than the rest. When she’d not given him the answers he wanted, he showed her pictures on the tea-vee of people having their heads chopped off by other “shepherds” in their Arab lands. Madrene had no taste for head-lopping, and had never done it herself, not having the strength to heave a broadsword so strongly, but she had witnessed it more than once. She was not as shocked as these brutes expected her to be.

So the new man had stripped her naked and interrogated her more. Apparently, he did not share his comrades’ qualms about harming a breeding woman, if his slaps were any indication. And what was it about men and their need to strip women of their clothing for purposes of humiliation? It was getting tiresome, to say the least. And chilly. But they’d let her put her jeans and tea-
shert
back on last night when she’d been banished to the basement again.

The knaves upstairs were heavily armed with weapons that resembled the guns and piss-toles she’d seen the seals carry. But Ian and his seals, who she presumed were with him, would be armed, as well. She had to trust in Ian.

Still, she worried.

Then she heard gunfire upstairs. Lots of gunfire.
She dropped to her knees and prayed as she never had before. “Please, God … please, Thor, god of battle … protect this man I love. Please, please, please.”

She heard a hard object hit her locked door, even as the gunfire continued upstairs. She backed up against the far wall as the object hit once again and came barreling into the room.

The object was Ian.

He smiled grimly at her, swore softly at the bruises on her face, then lifted her into his arms. “Thank God!” was all he said, against her neck. She thought she felt a wetness there.

“Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

She shook her head.

“Did they … rape you?” he choked out.

Again she shook her head.

He carried her out in a rush, reaching the back yard through a separate basement exit. When they were free, he ran with her in his arms to a stand of trees at the end of the yard. He dropped down to his knees, then laid her gently down. Kissing her softly, he said, “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.” He rose then, picked up the large weapon that hung from a sling over his shoulder and ran back to join the fight.

Madrene realized belatedly that she hadn’t uttered one word to Ian.
Me, speechless?
She smiled and thought there were some people who would find that a miracle.

The gunfire continued for a short while. It was early morning and she could see neighborhood people coming out of their houses, but the terrorist house was cordoned off with yellow ribbon. There were many armed men outside the house, as well as
inside, and not all of them were seals. Some of them wore helmets.

The gunfire tapered off, then stopped. First, Ian’s seal comrades came out of the house, talking excitedly. They turned as one and waved at her, huge smiles on their faces. She waved back.
Who knew I would be so happy to see a seal?
she joked to herself.

She stood when she saw Ian reel out to the front yard, punching and rolling on the ground with Musab, the one who had been so nasty to her last night. Was Ian pummeling the brute on her behalf? Probably. In the end, Ian had to be pulled off of the evil varmint by several of the helmeted men. As Musab was escorted by two of the helmeted men to a nearby square vehicle, Ian bent over at the waist, as if trying to get his temper under control.

Before long, he walked over and began talking to a group of several big men, even taller than he was. They all glanced her way, then one of them broke away from the group and started to walk toward her.

All the fine hairs stood out on Madrene’s body, and she started to weep.
No! It is impossible. I am dreaming. But Ian is there smiling at me. It can’t be a dream.

What a cruel jest for Loki, the jester god, to play on me after all I have survived!

But what if it is not a dream or a jest?

A hiccoughing sob escaped her lips. She, who never cried, was making a habit of leaking eyes lately. Heart pounding wildly, she began to walk slowly, then faster toward the big, weeping man.
Weeping? He is weeping, too?
He had long blond hair with strands of gray at the sides, woven into war braids.
War braids?
And he had big ears.
Big ears?
There was only one man she knew with ears like that.

“Father?” she asked just before he lifted her into a tight, tight hug.

“Thank the gods, you have finally come home, Madrene. We have missed you mightily.” Her father noticed the scars on her neck then and touched them tenderly. “The brute who did this to you will pay, that I promise you.”

Madrene felt like a little girl again. No need to worry about anything. Her father would take care of everything. Ah, that wasn’t quite true. Even as a youthling, Madrene had been taking over household duties. It was a nice fantasy, though.

Next came Ragnor, whom she swatted on the arm for having left her alone at Norstead, and Torolf, who told her an amazing story about his being a Navy SEAL. Then her uncles Jorund and Geirolf came to her for warm embraces. Her father told her that her other brothers and sisters were at a vineyard where they lived. Her father had remarried and had another child. Her Uncle Jorund had remarried, too, and had both his own and stepchildren. Uncle Geirolf was married for the first time and had his own family. Jorund and Geirolf lived in the faraway countries of Tax-us and Main. Even more amazing, Ian’s sister Alison was married to her brother Ragnor.

Madrene felt dizzy with confusion and happiness. “I do not understand. How can this be?” she asked her father. “How did you all land in this same magic land? And for shame! You did not tell those of us left behind that you were alive. Can you understand the agony we went through? Really, what were you thinking? Yea, it is good to see you all again, but what you need is a sound walloping with a broom, if you ask me. And furthermore—”

“Ever the shrew, eh, Madrene?” Her father threw his head back and laughed uproariously. Then he held her at arm’s length from himself. “Did you not know, child? Have you not figured it out? You have time-traveled.”

It was her turn to laugh now.

“ ’Tis true.” Her father’s face turned serious.

“Nooooooo,” she said, shaking her head with disbelief.

“Believe it!” Ragnor said. “It is a thousand years into the future. I had trouble believing it, too.”

“Nooooooo,” she continued to protest. But already many things were beginning to make sense to her—if time-travel could ever be construed as sensible. The flameless lights, the cars, the metal travel birds, the guns, birth control, food marts, books, tea-vee, everything. She had credited these marvels to magic … to a strange magical land, much like the legendary land of trolls and dragons. Now it appeared as if these marvels could be explained by time-travel, if one was to believe it was possible.

Sudden alarming thoughts occurred to her.
How does Ian fit into this picture? Can he love a woman who is—holy Frigg!—a thousand years old?
She glanced toward the front yard to see how he was handling this family reunion.

Ian was gone.

Wedding bell blues …

Ian drove back to the base in his car, taking Cage, Pretty Boy and Geek with him; their weapons were crammed beside them every which way they could fit. They followed the other SEAls, the command
staff, his father and the CIA field ops. The four tangos were in a highly secure van in the midst of them all, including the one Ian almost killed with his fists for making a vile remark about Maddie’s body, which he must have seen naked.

“Do you think that’s all of them?” Cage asked.

“Seems so,” Ian answered. “At least, that’s what Sullivan told me.”

“He is such a creep,” Pretty Boy said.

The rest of them agreed, “Yeah!”

“He asked me if you were nailing Maddie.” Pretty Boy exhaled with disgust. “In the midst of gunfire, with her safety still in question, he asked a question like that.”

“What did you answer?” Ian looked over at Cage, who was covered with dirt and perspiration. They all were.

“I told him to go screw himself.”

“Good answer.”

“Man, this has been a helluva couple weeks,” Cage said. And it had been. Capturing Jamal in Iraq, marrying Maddie, setting up the trap in the park, Maddie being nabbed by the remaining tangos, the rescue, and the reunion with her family.

“Is it always like this?” Geek wanted to know.

“Yeah,” the three of them lied and smiled at each other.

“What are you going to do about Maddie?” Pretty Boy asked from the back seat.

“Hell if I know.”
But I know what I want.
“For now, her family is going back to my house to catch up on all the news. I didn’t get the whole story, but Ragnor said they’ve been separated from her for years, and she thought they were dead.”

“That’s what she kept telling us all along,” Geek pointed out.

But none of us would listen.
“I’ll know more when our meetings are over at the base, and I can get back and talk to her.”
Alone. Definitely alone.

“What do you think her family will say about your marriage?” Pretty Boy asked.

“That is the question.”

Actually, there is a more important question. What will Maddie think of our marriage now that she’s reunited with her family? Will I be extraneous?

She said she loves me.

Ian was hit with unexpected news just before he went into the debriefing. JAM pulled him aside and said, “Uh, I have something to tell you that you’re not going to like.”

Now what?
“I got a piece of mail today that had originally been sent to my Virginia apartment, forwarded, then lost in dead mail for almost a year. I mean, I should have checked, but I didn’t think it was necessary. And now … oh, hell!” JAM was clearly avoiding telling him what was on his mind. What? Was he still a priest, or almost-priest, and hadn’t been released from his vows or whatever they called it?

“Spit it out.”

“You’re not married.”

Ian inhaled sharply with shock. That was the last thing he’d expected JAM to say. “What do you mean?”

“The Church doesn’t like its priests or almost-priests to continue with priestly duties. Apparently, the Vatican came out with a new edict that now disallows men like me from performing marriages.”