Finding Grace Page 18

  “I can certainly understand why the major withheld all of this information. But Paul—” he took a quick breath and then another. “I’d be less than honest if I said it would have stopped me from signing that letter. Once I saw that encryption and those designs of hers, well…Surely you can understand the advantages Dr. Thorne would give us, how many lives her work could save. Neither the major nor I would deserve our commissions if we just let her go.”

  “I’d say there’s a pretty big difference, Randall, between letting someone go and dragging them off in manacles, wouldn’t you? A civilian?” Weston’s voice was measured, cool, angry. “He did that. After he smoked a cigarette in my office and made lewd and sadistic remarks specifically targeted to remind her of the tortures outlined in that file.”

  Randall thought about the photos he’d just seen and cursed Weston for reminding him, cursed the major for fouling this up so badly.

  “We tracked her down to an ICU in Bethesda.”

  That little tidbit was like a grenade hitting a target after it had been soaked in napalm. How the hell was he supposed to salvage the remains of this, personally or professionally? To give himself a minute, he said, “Maybe she just got sick.”

  Weston’s reply ignored the comment. “Our jet can be rigged with whatever medical equipment is needed. If she can be moved, we’re taking her home.”

  Our jet and We’re—so there was at least one other man here, and a plane waiting on some air strip at Washington National. He’d also said taking her home. Sounded personal. “This isn’t just about the money for those patents, is it, Paul?”

  “It’s not about the money at all.”

  So what was Dr. Thorne to Paul Weston that he would stick his neck out like this?

  “You know, Paul, I think of Katherine like a daughter—”

  Weston stiffened like he’d been sucker punched. “Thorne’s a member of the team, Randall.” Remaining stiff, he said, “I assume you still understand what that means.”

  Oh yes, he did. It was worse than if she’d been Weston’s lover. They’d talked about Blackridge. Weston was proud of his handpicked team—former Rangers, Delta Force, SEALS, Green Beret, Special Tactics—and Thorne’s being a part of that team meant there was almost certainly more than one other member already placed in the hospital at Bethesda right now. There wouldn’t be many, just a few. But that’s all it would take to break all hell loose, never mind little Dr. Thorne. He could call for reinforcements to be sent there, and, in fact, he probably should. But a wiser voice in his head suggested avoiding a confrontation, for everyone’s sake.

  “Yes, thank you. I do understand and I appreciate your apprising me of your position on this, ah, situation.”

  “You were under the impression that I was here to negotiate.” Weston’s smile wasn’t warm, or compromising. “In the interest of full disclosure, Randall, you should know that I’ve already retained Katherine’s cousin to represent Thorne, should that prove necessary.”

  Weston didn’t have to tell him which cousin. Her reputation preceded her as consistently as the press followed her closely. Darmfelder’s case had been slim, even under The Patriot Act. Combined with the some of the information in Thorne’s file and what the major had pulled—in front of a roomful of solid witnesses—a good lawyer could give the U.S. military one hell of a black eye. A great lawyer, like Katherine’s cousin, could…

  He let his breath out long and slow this time.

  “Under the circumstances, I think it would be best if the major met us at the hospital.”

  While he spoke to the major’s staff sergeant, he noted that the phone Weston used was of the satellite variety and the call was short. It confirmed his suspicions.

  * * * *

  They arrived at the same time as the major, all converging on the nurses’ station in the ICU. There was only one smile greeting Randall, but it was one that did his old heart good, and it could sure use that right about now.

  “Why, Florence, what a wonderful surprise.” He couldn’t possibly have been more sincere. “What brings you over from cardiology?” More than grateful for an opportunity to break the ice that had thickened between himself and Weston during the drive there, as well as express his appreciation for the nurse, he turned to the man and said, “Florence here had as much to do with me getting back on my feet and out of here after that double bypass as the surgeon did.”

  “I asked to be transferred for the time being. Had a dream on Christmas Eve that an angel had broken her wing and needed me over here. And you know how I am about my dreams, General. I’m glad you’re here, and not just because it’s good to see you looking so well.” Florence smiled warmly.

  “I like a woman who speaks her mind.” He winked her and gave her arm a squeeze. “What’s going on?”

  “It seems that Major Darmfelder here wasn’t honest with us about that patient he had admitted—the little angel from my dream.” There was no mistaking the contempt she felt when she glowered at the major, nor the umbrage the small man took at it. But he wisely held his peace.

  Florence, as was her way, completely ignored the man now that she’d made her low opinion of him known. Instead, she turned to Weston and nodded in the direction of a room with closed blinds across from the nurse’s station. “You must be his partner. He said you were straightening things out with General Ross.”

  The general took in the guard at the door and allowed himself a small smile. The man was bigger than any of the soldiers on Darmfelder’s staff. One of Paul’s, for sure. At least one other was in the room—Paul’s partner, if Florence had it right. She was smiling, so he was probably less intimidating, a behind-the-scenes man. Paul had never really said much about him.

  “Florence, sweetheart, is there any way to open the blinds of that room from here? I’d like to take a peek without disturbing her.” And without warning whoever’s in there with her.

  After nodding yes, she reached for a switch behind the counter. The blinds opened.

  Being right about most things in this situation hadn’t prepared him for being so wrong with his last assumption. The very large man holding the very small Dr. Thorne in his arms was very intimidating. Even before the general recognized him.

  “Jesus H—sorry, Florence. Paul, is that…?”

  “I wasn’t aware you knew Dagger.”

  He lowered his voice so that only the two of them could hear. “Man’s a classified legend.”

  He’d seen a couple of photos in highly restricted files. Jack Daggery was a stone-cold killer who’d been on more missions than any other agent during his time—and had never failed to take out the target, or targets. Neither agency had wanted to let him go, but they couldn’t keep a man like that against his will, and eliminating him would have meant finding someone willing to take the risk of failing. The general doubted there would have been any takers. Either there hadn’t been or they’d failed, because here he was, truly larger than life. Or at least larger than the photos had led him to believe.

  Not taking his eyes off the man in the hospital room, he said, “I know who he is, but I’ve never met him.”

  “Well, you’re about to.” If Weston sounded a little smug, the general couldn’t really blame him.

  Florence must have sensed his apprehension because she came alongside him and patted him reassuringly. “Now General, you don’t have worry none about him. He may look somethin’ fierce, but he’s in love with that girl. I better go tell him to put her down, though.”

  It wasn’t Thorne he was worrying about. In fact, her relationship with Dagger was the missile on top of the grenade that had hit the napalm-soaked target, but he couldn’t tell Florence that. Instead, he said, “Florence, dear, hold off on that a moment, will you? And say, how is that angel of yours doing? Why is she in here?”

  Before Florence could answer, a man wearing a nicely tailored suit and an ID badge with the color code of a doctor appeared. “She’s in a coma.”

  Wonderful, a bomb ha
d just landed on what was left after the missile, grenade and napalm had done their jobs. So much for salvaging anything from this cluster-fuck of Darmfelder’s.

  The doctor scanned his uniform and said, “General, I’m glad you’re here. Major Darmfelder here has been withholding important information about my patient.” There was outrage in every clipped syllable he’d uttered.

  Paul handed him the file. “Here, I think this will further enlighten you.”

  When Florence tried to read over the doctor’s shoulder, the general reached out and gently pulled her back, shaking his head. “No, Florence. Bad enough what you’ve seen if you’ve been taking care of her as well as I know you have.”

  A few minutes into his reading, the doctor began to pale.

  Florence looked back at the room and shook her head. “That poor child.”

  Randall’s eyes were drawn back to the scene in the room, the way the massive man was cradling Thorne, the desperate way he was kissing her. Florence was right. Dagger wasn’t just involved with the woman; he was in love with her.

  The general had a much better appreciation of Weston’s concerns now; they certainly mirrored some of his own. What happens when a man like Jack Daggery falls in love and some idiot takes her away, kidnaps her? That was how Dagger was sure to see it. Then she ends up in the hospital, in a coma, for chrissake.

  Weston had to be at least as interested in keeping Dagger out of trouble as he was in getting Thorne back, and thank God for that. Darmfelder, the fool, obviously had no idea who the man holding Thorne was, or he’d already be out the door and on the next shuttle to the space station.

  Irritation brought the general back from his thoughts. Major Darmfelder had a very annoying habit of clearing his throat when he was nervous about something. Randall wondered briefly if he could just throttle the man and return to his thoughts.

  He glared at Darmfelder, who spoke anyway.

  “May I remind everyone that it was me who checked her in here? I could have just left her where she was, or disposed of her.”

  The general was pretty sure it was the look on Weston’s face that stopped the damn fool from digging his hole deeper, but it could have just as easily been Florence’s.

  Darmfelder looked longingly at the bank of elevators. “Perhaps it would be best if I just returned to my office.”

  “Oh no, Major. You’re not going anywhere. You will stay right where you are without making another sound. You don’t want to make me any more unhappy with you than I am right now, trust me.” If Florence hadn’t been there, the general might have been able to say what he was really thinking.

  By the time the exchange was finished, the doctor was apparently feeling good enough to glower at the major himself. “If I’d had this information before, I might have been able to help her. As it was, I’m afraid the restraints and other procedures only kept her in that coma. I intend to file formal charges, Major Darmfelder.” Turning to the others, he said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me while I study the rest of this in private.” He stalked back to his office with Thorne’s folder under his arm.

  The cool breeze the doctor left in his wake gave the general a wonderful idea.

  “Major, it just occurred to me that we have some missile silos left in North Dakota. I think babysitting them until you retire would be an excellent way for me to forget about you and the trouble you’ve caused. It would have to be after JAG has finished prosecuting you on the doctor’s charges, and provided that young woman comes out of this okay.”

  He took a minute to relish the shock on the major’s face before he said, “You know, Major, I’ve heard that you can watch your dog run away for days in North Dakota. You’ll have to tell me whether that’s true in your first report.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Or you can resign your commission after JAG is through with you. I should have done this when you bungled her recruitment in the first place. With her skills and resourcefulness, she’s an asset the agencies would have fought over.”

  Florence looked at Darmfelder and wagged her finger. “And another thing: you get sick, you’ll want to check yourself into another hospital. If I see you in here again there won’t be any mercy from me—Oh! Will you look at that! She’s awake! That boy’s brought her back to us, the poor angel. Both of them, just poor angels. That boy lost his mama young, anyone can see that. I better fetch the doctor before he gets comfortable in his office.” She gave the major another nasty look as she brushed past him.

  The general smirked and exchanged glances with Paul. They were obviously both thinking the same thing about Thorne and Dagger and angels.

  “Paul, can I talk to you a moment?”

  Paul nodded to him first and then to the burly orderlies he’d noticed earlier. They joined the other “guard” outside the door. “Why don’t you all go in and see how they’re doing. Maybe, uh, take out the trash?” He might not be in the military any more, but Weston’s voice hadn’t lost the ring of command.

  The general said, “Major, wait for me in the lounge. I want your answer when I get back.”

  Weston turned back to him. “Sure, we can talk. After all, that’s what we’re here for, General, to make the best of a bad situation.”

  The general smiled. He’d always liked Weston’s ability to distill a situation to its basic elements. He’d do the same.

  “It’s a given now, if it wasn’t before, that Dr. Thorne will never want to work for the government. But from what I gather, she was happy enough working for you. Do you think she’d be willing to let us buy her patents through Blackridge?”

  Weston didn’t look surprised, but he didn’t look reassuring either. “You’re aware she had a problem with the military before all of this. Darmfelder’s bullying was probably a big part of it, but I don’t think it was the only part. I hope you understand if I’m not feeling particularly patriotic at the moment myself. I won’t run interference for you on this. You’re going to have to ask her yourself. I’m going to welcome her back. You may as well come along and offer your apology. If she accepts that…” He shrugged. “Who knows?”

  They were still watching the couple in the room. The two were so sweetly in love that it made Randall want to call his wife, buy her a dozen roses and take her out to a candlelight dinner. For the first time, he felt true regret for his part in what had happened to Thorne.

  More to himself than to Weston, he said, “After everything that girl’s been through, she deserves any happiness she can find. I’m just surprised that it’s with Dagger. Even more surprised he let Darmfelder take her.”

  “Dagger wasn’t there.”

  Of course. Darmfelder was still alive.

  Paul said, “Their relationship surprised everyone.”

  Weston’s men were dragging some very heavy-looking laundry from the room. All things considered, the general decided to let it pass.

  The room went still the moment they entered it. He knew it was his presence that brought the silence.

  Paul gave Thorne a kiss on the cheek, handed her a box of chocolates, and said, “Missed you.”

  “Me too, Buzz. Oooh, Swiss. You remembered!”

  She beamed at Paul before her eyes locked with Ross’s own. The light went right out of them.

  He didn’t miss the way Dagger tightened his grip on her hand. Damn, but that man even felt lethal. He took off his hat and held it with both hands in front of him.

  “Dr. Thorne, I’m General Ross.” He paused, trying to find the right words, or, failing that, the only ones that came to mind. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for my part in everything that’s happened to you. I’d like to apologize for myself and on behalf of the United States military. I truly regret—”

  She held up her hand to stop him. “What do you want from me, General?”

  He hesitated. The reports he’d read should have prepared him for the roughness of her voice, but they hadn’t. And seeing her now, up close, she looked so fragile, the manacle scars so stark a
gainst her pale skin. It didn’t help that she was so young or that she reminded him just a bit of his oldest granddaughter. He felt the tension in the room and couldn’t blame anyone but himself for it.

  “I’m not sure this is the time to discuss it.”

  Her husky voice stated matter-of-factly, “This is the only chance you’re going to get. I suggest you take it.”

  What the hell. There really wasn’t anything left to lose. “Like I told Florence, I like a woman who speaks her mind. So I’ll be equally plain, Dr. Thorne. I, that is, the U.S. military, want first right of refusal on your patents.”

  There, he’d said it. Everyone in the room was staring at him like he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had, because he went on, instead of bolting from the room like the thumping of his ailing heart was telling him to. “I…after this…” He waved his hat around the room. “…I know that it seems—”

  “All you ever had to do was ask. I have no problem giving the men and women in our military every advantage to keep them safe and working more effectively. I refused work for the military. Major Asshole never asked about buying the patents. He never gave me that option, not now and not eight years ago and none of the times he harassed me in between.”

  The general was stunned, and he wasn’t the only one. The mouth of every man in the room was open. To think that all of this could have been avoided…

  “As for the major, I have to tell you, General, he is one sick fuck. And I know from sick fucks.”

  Unfortunately, he knew just how true that was.

  “I think perhaps I’ve been too easy on the major.” He was beginning to wonder if he shouldn’t throw the man to the wolves in the room after all. A closer look had confirmed his assumption that Paul had hired selectively. These were very good men, and it was obvious that they all cared for Thorne.