Hired to Kill

  “You’ve helped her have that attitude.”

  Nathan said, “We’ve talked a few times.”

  “A few times? You’ve been really generous with your time.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Is she still struggling with school?”

  “Not as much. She’s super smart but doesn’t like the structured environment of a classroom. I told her not to stress about it. I told her to play the role, pass the tests, and get her diploma. It’s a rite of passage, nothing more.”

  “You told her that?”

  “Well, not in those exact words, but yeah.”

  “Good for you,” Harv said. “Please don’t tell me your sister expects her to get straight As?”

  “No, but she doesn’t think Lauren’s trying hard enough.”

  “Is she right?”

  “Probably. She’s bored to tears in class.”

  “Like uncle, like niece?”

  “I’m afraid so. I hated school, especially college. Regurgitating meaningless crap isn’t an accurate gauge of intelligence.”

  “Adaptation and improvisation,” Harv said.

  “Problem-solving—it’s the true measure. I couldn’t wait to graduate UNM and join the Marines.”

  “Go Lobos!”

  He hadn’t heard that game cry in a long time. “Back then, the happiest day of my life was the day I found out I’d made it into OCS at Quantico. My grades were borderline, but my dad used his political clout. I plan to do the same thing for Lauren if she’s serious about officer-candidate school. She wants to fly Ospreys.”

  “Why not? She’s already flying our 407s.”

  “I’m not sure how much Jin likes the idea of Lauren becoming a Marine pilot.”

  “If I know Lauren, the more her mom objects, the more she’ll want to do it. She’s lucky to have you in her life.”

  “Thanks for saying that. I feel the same way about her.”

  Neither of them spoke for several seconds.

  “My dad saved her life by sacrificing himself.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  “Me either.” Nathan closed down the visual of what it must’ve been like in the diner. He’d thought about it enough. “My mom’s sleeping in her hospital room, and I told her to let me know when Jin calls. I think we should both spend some time with Lauren today. She’s gotta be feeling pretty bad. Mentally and physically. I want her to know we’ll be there for her.”

  “She thinks of you like her adopted dad.”

  “Yeah, I know, and it really worries me.”

  “Nonsense. You’re a huge part of her life. If I can be a dad, anyone can. You just have to put in the time—which you’ve been doing with Lauren. How many times have you taken her shooting, gone to her softball games, to the movies?”

  “I don’t know, a bunch.”

  “You’ve also been teaching her fighting and survival skills. Not one in a thousand kids can make a fire from scratch or create a snow cave or break down a 1911 in the dark and put it back together.”

  “Not too many adults can do those things either.”

  “Well, if the zombie apocalypse ever happens, she’ll survive it.”

  “I don’t know about you, Harv, but I don’t want to live in a world where people are killing each other over a can of tuna. I mean, what’s the point? It has nothing to do with being a survivalist. It’s about human dignity. I’d hate living in that world.”

  “Like you said, what’s the point? It’s too bad Holly needs to be at the office.”

  “She’s amazing. A perfect fit. I can’t explain it. It just feels like she was custom-built for me.”

  “Maybe she was.”

  “Amen, Harv. Want to take a jog around the National Mall and blow off some steam? I’ve never done it at sunrise. I hear it’s beautiful, and I could use some beautiful right now.”

  “I’ll go change. Lobby in ten?”

  “See you there.”

  CHAPTER 25

  During their run, they pushed themselves hard, going much faster than they normally did. When running or doing anything else, for that matter, they never competed with one another. They were always together, always a unit.

  In many ways, DC felt like a second home to Nathan. He’d spent a lot of time here and knew the city fairly well. He’d always loved viewing the monuments. Seeing Abraham Lincoln sitting in that chair was quite literally breathtaking. Being an amateur Civil War historian, he’d often tried to put himself in Lincoln’s shoes, unsuccessfully. He’d never fully understand the tremendous personal cost Lincoln had paid by sending hundreds of thousands of men to their deaths to end slavery and preserve the union. The only reason people claimed the Trump-Clinton presidential election was the most vicious of all time was because they didn’t know their history. The 1860 election of Lincoln made 2016 look like a kid-glove fight. The country had been quite literally tearing itself apart, the draft riots of New York City remaining a sobering testament.

  After their run, they cooled off with a slow walk along Fourteenth back to the hotel and decided to meet in the lobby in half an hour. From there, they’d walk over to the hospital to see Lauren and his mom.

  Along the way, they stopped at a coffeehouse and got a couple of breakfast sandwiches to go. Nathan had been tempted to walk by Mabel’s Diner but decided against it. He preferred to remember it the way it had been when he’d been there with his father, years and years ago.

  In the hospital, they rode the elevator in silence. They weren’t alone; an elderly couple accompanied them. They smiled when Nathan and Harv got in. Given who their co-occupants were, Nathan did his best to return a smile. This slow elevator ride made him flash back to yesterday’s elevator ride in the grocery store. Had his fight with Flintstone been only twenty-four hours ago?

  Whatever good mood he’d felt earlier this morning suddenly vanished.

  He was ready to chew glass at this point.

  Harv must’ve sensed his tension because his friend softly cleared his throat.

  Nathan mouthed the words thank you, relaxed his jaw, and tilted his head back. After pulling in a deep breath, he let it out slowly. He noticed the elderly pair staring at him and said, “Sorry, rough night.”

  The man asked, “You two retired military?”

  “What gave us away?” Harv asked.

  “Your silent way of communicating and your high and tight haircuts.”

  “Marines, one-eight,” Nathan said.

  “Outstanding.”

  “You?” Harv asked.

  “Squids. My guys kept the Connie’s Phantoms in the air during Vietnam.”

  Nathan hadn’t heard that name in a long time. Connie was the nickname for the USS Constellation, a Kitty Hawk–class supercarrier, decommissioned in 2003.

  The man grinned. “You Marines did a good job on board as ballast.”

  That put a genuine smile on his face. Nothing like a friendly rivalry with the swabbies.

  “Wait a minute. You’re Stone McBride’s son. And you must be Harvey Fontana. Your father bragged about you two a lot.”

  “Thank you, Senator Kemper. I appreciate you saying that.”

  “You recognize me?”

  “Absolutely. You’re the chair of the Senate Arms Services Committee. We’ve met before, but it had to be twenty-five years ago.”

  “I remember it. Mabel’s Diner.” He looked down for a few seconds. “I’m damned sorry about what happened. Stone was a fine man. We’re here to pay our respects to your mother. Your parents were our closest friends. Still are . . . I mean your mom still is . . .”

  Nathan sensed the awkwardness and smiled. “I know what you meant.”

  “So how are you holding up, Marine?” Kemper asked.

  “Right now, I need an ax and several hundred rounds of oak.” Splitting firewood allowed him to be destructive and constructive at the same time.

  “Copy that. I’d join you, but my shoulders are toast. We’ll make our visit bri
ef. We know you’d like some time with your mom and niece.” He held up a hand. “Don’t worry; it’s not common knowledge. Your father and I go way back.”

  “Thank you, Senator.”

  “Please, call me Bill.”

  “Your mom and I have lunch every month,” Mrs. Kemper said. “I’m so sorry about your father. Our thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.”

  “Thank you.” He didn’t know what else to say.

  She looked at Harv. “They both thought of you like a son.”

  Harv said thank you as the elevator doors opened.

  “Why don’t Deb and I wait in the visitor’s lounge while you and Harv sit with your family?”

  “Bill, you and Deb are more than welcome to come in the room with us, but let’s gauge how Lauren’s doing. If she’s awake, she’ll get a kick out of meeting the chair of the SASC, especially when she finds out how much money you’re in charge of.”

  “Are you sure? We don’t want to intrude.”

  “I’m positive.”

  “They’re in room four twenty-five,” Deb said.

  They walked past the nurses’ station and saw Lauren’s room right away. It was hard to miss. A Metro police officer sat in a folding chair to one side of the door. Nathan admired the lack of a cell phone in his hand. Keeping their voices low, everyone introduced themselves and shook hands. Nathan thanked the officer for his service to the city.

  Lauren’s door was partially closed. He pushed it open.

  “Uncle Nate!”

  Lauren practically jumped out of the bed, but then she remembered the IV hooked up to her wrist and slowed down.

  “Easy, Lauren. You got shot twice, remember?”

  “They’re just flesh wounds.”

  “Just flesh wounds?” Oh, to be young again, he thought.

  He looked at his mom, who made the happiest face possible, but she couldn’t conceal the pain and loneliness. An inch short of six feet tall, she had blue eyes and short gray hair. She once said she’d never dye it, and so far, she hadn’t. She wore a light apricot pantsuit and a scarf to cover up a recent scar from cervical surgery.

  He hugged Lauren gingerly, then embraced his mother.

  No words were spoken. This was a silent mother-and-son hug for the ages, one he’d never forget.

  Lauren grabbed Harv next. “Uncle Harv!” She closed her eyes and winced when she tried to hug him.

  “Easy, Lauren,” Harv said. “You’ll tear your sutures.”

  Again Nathan studied her body language. She didn’t seem all that upset. Maybe she hadn’t fully processed what had happened. Join the club.

  Harv continued. “Metro PD said you gave them a very detailed report while you were on the way to the hospital.”

  She shrugged. “I told the policeman it was okay to ride with me. It didn’t hurt all that bad. I liked him; he was really nice. He said it was important to get as much information as soon as possible.”

  “Well, that was very brave of you,” Harv added.

  “Hey, you,” his mom said, “back in bed.”

  Lauren made her exaggerated pouty face and eased onto the bed, being careful to keep her hospital gown from climbing. Even though she was several years older now, Nathan saw the same beautiful and fiercely intelligent girl who’d won his heart the first time they’d met. She’d been twelve at the time. Her questions had dissected him, especially when she’d said, “You don’t have any children, do you?” It hadn’t been a question. Clearly, she’d already known the answer. He remembered her blue eyes penetrating his protective veneer like an ice pick. Then she’d asked about his service in the Marines.

  “Did you ever kill anyone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it hard, you know, like . . . did you feel bad about it?”

  Thank goodness a passerby came along at the right moment, ending that line of inquiry.

  A smart kid for sure and stunning. Knowing those losers in Mabel’s Diner had tried to murder this beautiful child caused another swell of anger. He suppressed it. Now wasn’t the time. That would come later.

  His mom embraced Senator Kemper and Deb. Yep, these three knew each other well.

  Nathan said, “Lauren, I want you to meet someone very special. This is Senator and Mrs. Kemper.”

  Lauren’s face shone with excitement. Nathan knew she admired politicians from their many discussions over the years.

  Well, nobody’s perfect, he mused.

  “Senator Kemper is the chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee.”

  “You mean like the boss?”

  Kemper half laughed. “Try telling that to my Democratic colleagues.”

  “Would you sign my cast?”

  Kemper stepped forward. “I’d be honored, young lady.”

  By phone, his mom had briefed them on Lauren’s condition. In addition to opening her brachial artery, the AK round had splintered part of the bone. She’d be in the cast for eight weeks while the bone graft took hold.

  He watched Kemper write:

  To the bravest girl in the whole world! Senator William A. Kemper.

  “This is way cool!” Lauren said. “I can’t wait for my mom to see it.”

  Nathan watched her smile fade quickly before she looked away.

  His mom said, “I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  Nathan asked, “What are you watching, kiddo?”

  “It’s a Magnum, P.I. marathon,” she said. “It’s so eighties. His shorts are really short, and he’s a total babe.”

  Harv looked away and smiled.

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Nathan said. “I keep forgetting you’re sixteen. Someone needs to invent an antihormone pill.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes in a kind way.

  “Listen, we just stopped in to offer our condolences. Please call on us if you need anything.”

  Nathan said thank you again and shook Bill Kemper’s hand. Harv did the same.

  His mom left the room with the Kempers, probably to walk them over to the elevator.

  Looking at Lauren’s sweet and innocent face, he wondered what kind of a parent he might’ve been and how much worse this would’ve felt had Lauren been his child. Vince had to be a basket case. His son hadn’t been wounded; he’d been murdered. A very shitty deal.

  “Harv, I’d like a few minutes alone with Lauren, please.”

  Harv winked at Lauren and filed out.

  Alone with his niece, he pulled up a chair, looked her in the eyes, and didn’t say anything.

  “What?”

  “I’m just wondering when you were planning to tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  “Lauren, you’re not very good at subterfuge.” He held up a hand. “It means pretense. Faking . . . you get the picture.”

  “She told me not to tell anyone!”

  “Hey, it’s me, Uncle Nate. When did your mom contact you?”

  “Last night.”

  Nathan waited again.

  Lauren looked at the closed door with a guilty expression. “I waited until Grandma went out for dinner to send her a text. She texted me back right away and asked what hospital and room I was in.”

  He nodded toward the nightstand. “So a few seconds later, she called you on the hospital phone?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She told me she was okay even though she got shot.”

  Nathan couldn’t hide his shock. “Your mom said she was shot?”

  “In the leg.”

  “Have you talked to her since?”

  She shook her head. “She told me not to call or text.”

  “Did she say when she’d call again?”

  “No.”

  “Anything else?”

  “She told me not to worry and that no one’s going to attack us ever again.”

  That’s a given, Nathan silently added. Maybe this wasn’t the right tim
e to ask, but there wouldn’t be a good time anytime soon.

  “Did Grandpa say anything, you know . . . before he died?”

  Lauren’s face contorted. “He said he wished he could’ve spent more time with me. He told me my mom loves me, but she has a hard time showing it. He also said he was proud of you.”

  Nathan felt short of breath. His thoughts spiraled into a black hole of emotion. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d openly wept, but he was damned close right now. So much for putting on a strong veneer. He didn’t know how or why, but Lauren connected with him on an emotional plane that couldn’t be understood or explained.

  Like himself, his niece was on the verge of tears. “She told me not to tell anyone, even you! Please don’t be mad at me.”

  And in that instant, Lauren was the same little girl he’d first met, saying the exact same words: Please don’t be mad at me.

  “I’m not mad at you.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Listen carefully, Lauren. You and me? We don’t lie to each other. If I tell you I’m not mad, it’s the truth. We share a combat bond built from trust that few people will ever own.” He reached out and held her hand. “You were in a horrible position. If you didn’t tell me, it felt like you were betraying me. If you did tell me, you’d be betraying your mom. Now it’s my turn. I knew your mom was okay last night, and I didn’t tell you.”

  “You knew? Last night?”

  He nodded. “I could’ve called you, but I didn’t.” It wasn’t entirely true, but he wanted Lauren to feel better.

  “So we’re even?”

  “Yeah, kiddo, we’re even.”

  “Mom said you were going to know everything last night anyway.”

  “But that’s not the reason you told me.”

  “We’re supposed to tell each other everything because of our combat bond. Like you and Uncle Harvey have.”

  “That’s right. He loves you. You know that, right?”

  “I love him too,” she said.

  “Tell him that sometime.”

  “I will.”

  He put a finger to his lips, turned up the TV’s volume, and leaned in close. “Big Brother could be listening,” he whispered.