Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Marlowe knew why the Stewarts had so many sofas. Those benign-looking pieces of sedate furniture in the saferoom all opened into comfy beds. Every one of them. Guess they really were having a sleepover. Talk about awkward. Lexie and Bradley loved the idea. Marlowe didn't. Sure, these women were her friends but sleeping in the same room with them? Not her cup of chai. Everything she wore was already borrowed or bought by Libby. Her self-esteem didn't need another hit. She needed space, and the longer they were stuck together in this room, the more she wanted to leave.

Kelsey and Lexie had just finished feeding Grandpa Stewart. Kelsey put the dishes in the kitchenette sink while Lexie gently wiped her grandfather's whiskered face and chattered at him like a little magpie. A green-and-white-checkered blanket covered his lap and most of his chair, hiding the pee bag and tubes beneath it. He looked drugged, but Marlowe now knew for sure that he had Alzheimer's and was lost in his own world. She also knew he'd deserted Alex and his mother when Alex was just a little boy. Something about the Irish mafia in America. Hearing that Alex had been abandoned too, changed what Marlowe thought of him. Their stories weren't exactly the same. He'd still had his grandparents and his mom while she hadn't had anyone. But growing up knowing your father didn't love you enough to stay was a hard thing to live with for any child left behind.

Marlowe now wore a foam-tipped, noise-canceling earpiece in her right ear and had a mic clipped to her collar, courtesy of Kelsey. But Alex hadn't called back. Nobody did. Harley, Walker, and Maverick hadn't checked in since the last time they let the dogs out to pee. What was going on?

"I need to talk with you." Kelsey jerked her head toward the bathroom.

Yes, this playroom was large enough that it had its own bathroom, complete with shower and tub. There was also a kitchenette opposite the bathroom. A big screen television and an entertainment center occupied the wall between. Four large dog crates sat beside the entertainment center, two on each side. Closets full of canned food, breakfast cereals, treats for kids, bottled water, towels, blankets, bedding, and who knew what else, lined the remaining wall space. Alex Stewart was one surprise after another. How wealthy was he that he could afford to build a bunker this spacious? Marlowe hadn't seen any servants yet, but he could certainly afford them.

"What now?" she asked politely.

Kelsey closed the bathroom door and sat on the edge of the tub. "I know you're not staying in Virginia as long as we'd like, but you're welcome to stay with us while you're here."

Marlowe settled onto the padded vanity bench, because every saferoom had a vanity, right? "I was going to move in with Asher, you know, because I have a lot of healing to do and I have a dog and…" She scratched the back of her head. The lice were gone, but the compulsion to scratch lingered. Asher said he'd watch Darling when Marlowe went back to Afghanistan, but he was injured now and—

"Alex called."

"And?"

"Asher pulled through surgery. He's doing pretty good, considering what happened."

Marlowe held her breath, waiting for Kelsey to elaborate.

Kelsey looked down at the floor. "He saved Alex's life, Marlowe."

Oh, crap. Marlowe's heart stopped. She couldn't imagine Alex ever needing help.

"Their target laid a trap, and Asher took the hit meant for my husband. That's why he was hurt. The walls in the mansion were boobytrapped with metal spears. Somehow the guys triggered them, Alex doesn't know how. When Asher tackled him, the spear meant for Alex went through Asher's upper right shoulder. He was in surgery for ten hours. The doctors said it's a miracle he lived."

"When is he…? I mean, when can I…?" Shaken, Marlowe sucked in a deep breath and started again. "Was anyone else hurt? When can he come home?"

"I'm not sure. No one else was hurt, and he's stable but his injuries were severe. Alex didn't think he'd make it. His heart stopped during the flight to Germany. He lost a lot of blood. They used the defibrillator on him."

"But he's going to be okay? Right?" Please say yes.

Kelsey's gaze was still on the floor. "The surgeon who worked on Asher said he'll live."

She was hiding something.

"Okay," Marlowe breathed. "So why the long face? Is he paralyzed? Is that what you're afraid to tell me? Is he blind? Talk to me. I can't help if I don't know what I'm up against."

"I know. You're as bad as Alex, always running to help others, even if it gets you killed. That's what I'm afraid of, that you'll think you have to save us instead of letting us save you. Asher isn't paralyzed or blind, but he will need to be hospitalized for a while once he comes home."

Marlowe waited. This conversation felt like one of those binding moments she'd read about in a romance paperback she'd come across once. A love story, where a man met a woman, and her life changed when he introduced her to his friends and family. Because they became her friends and family. Talk about impossible dreams, yet Marlowe was living it. Here, in this room, surrounded by Asher's friends, women who worried for her. Who genuinely cared what happened to her.

"He saved Alex," Kelsey semi-repeated, her voice hollow, as if she was only half there. "I'd be a widow if Asher hadn't gone with Alex. If he hadn't… I'd be…"

Marlowe froze when Kelsey stopped talking. The harsh reality of what Alex's near-death would've meant slapped Marlowe's hard head. Without Alex, Kelsey's heart would've been forever broken. She'd never recover from the loss. She'd have to raise Lexie and Bradley by herself. She'd be alone. So alone. Yet there she sat on the edge of the tub, trying to console Marlowe, while Marlowe had focused only on herself and her loss. Which was significant, but Asher's sacrifice was not just about her.

He was a hero. A very lucky hero—if he was truly coming home. She shook her head at the magnitude of all that his actions meant, then latched onto her walker and shuffled over to sit beside Kelsey. She put an arm around Alex's diminutive wife, who was trembling like a tiny moth caught in a trap. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. All I worried about was Asher and me, but you—"

"I could've lost him," Kelsey cried. "I could've lost Alex. How would I ever tell Lexie and Bradley that their dad… That he wasn't coming…"

Tears jerked out of her as Marlowe held on. There was nothing to be said. No platitudes. No Hallmark card sappy sentiments. Sometimes the most you could do for a friend in need was shut your mouth and just be there.

Kelsey's breakdown didn't last long. Too quickly, she shook it off and eased out of Marlowe's hold. "Thank you. I don't usually fall apart, but—"

"But you're entitled to when the man you love is in harm's way." If that had been Marlowe breaking down, she would've cussed and kicked and whined a lot longer. She might have hit something—or someone. Ripping a long string of toilet paper off its roll, she folded it into a soft, cushiony handkerchief and handed it to Kelsey. "The men we love are not ordinary men. They're heroes, aren't they?"

Oops. Did that really come out of her mouth? Had she just told Kelsey she loved Asher?

Kelsey nodded, but didn't respond to Marlowe's profession of love, just kept dabbing her eyes and nose. "Alex only hires the best, and they become family. Them. Their wives and kids. Even their dogs, cats, and horses."

"Alex told you who he went after, didn't he?"

Kelsey tapped her earpiece. "Yes, we have a private channel, that's why you didn't hear him." Her tummy lifted with another deep inhale. "Asher's safe where he is. Wyatt's with him, but that's not the problem."

"What is?"

"Alex believes Jamah is coming after us. That's why we're holed-up here in our safe room."

"When did he tell you that?"

Another sigh escaped Kelsey. "Before he left. Alex suspected he was playing into Jamah's hands, but there was no way to be sure. He couldn't send anyone else to take him out. He had to go."

"So he let Jamah believe he'd left you unguarded?"

"Yes, and Alex was right. Late last night, Jamah was spotted at Heathrow, boarding a private jet to Washington, D.C."

"That's why Harley, Walker, and Maverick are here, isn't it? Jamah set a trap for Alex, and Alex set a trap for Jamah. We're bait."

"No, not bait. Not exactly. Our men wouldn't do that to us. But we are Jamah's targets, and Harley, Maverick, and Walker are our strong line of defense. That's why they're here. So while they fight for us, we'll wait for them to do what they need to do. Alex says that's what men were made for. Doing the heavy lifting. Taking care of us women and children. Fighting for their families." She scrubbed her hands up and down her biceps. "I hate just sitting and waiting."

"Listen, girlfriend." Marlowe never thought she'd be using that word, but there she was, doing what she was made for, comforting another woman in need. "Jamah's a despicable piece of shit. Excuse my language, but he's no better than what Alex cleans out of Whipper and Smoke's kennel."

Kelsey smiled at Bradley's adorable name for that big, bad German shepherd.

Marlowe continued. "Trust me, I've been there. I've never seen braver, fiercer men than those who are fighting for their families, and that's precisely what Alex planned. Jamah is a frigging narcissist. He thinks he's smarter than everyone, but this time he's made the biggest mistake of his life."

"But—"

"No buts, Kelsey. You and Judy, Libby, Persia, and China are right. We'll keep the home fires burning so our men can end Jamah once and for all." Our men. Man, that sounded good.

"There's a secret panel—"

"Oh, my gosh! There is? Really?" Marlowe smacked her forehead trying to be funny but immediately regretted it. Her poor skull wasn't ready for slapstick comedy. "What haven't you and Alex built into that playroom?"

Kelsey blushed. "It was his idea. It looks like a closet, but it's a locked gun safe. More like an arsenal. What do you know how to shoot?"

"Nothing. I've never fired a gun in my life."

"How'd you protect yourself over there, use your magic bracelets?"

"Oh, you mean like Wonder Woman? The only way I could do what I needed to do was by staying out of the Taliban's line of sight. According to them, all Afghan civilians are safe now and there's no need for personal protection. They'll protect everyone." Marlowe coughed at that outrageous lie. "Even if I'd had a weapon, Kelsey, they carry Kalashnikovs, and they travel in packs. I wouldn't've stood a chance."

"Ah yes, the first rule in conquering your enemy: disarm them, get them to distrust each other. To rat on each other. To publicly shame each other, then—"

"Public executions," Marlowe whispered, "where people are forced to watch, and the ones who close their eyes are murdered next. Even if you just witnessed them murdering your husband and son, you must keep your eyes open because they're watching. Always watching."

"Alex believes some people need to die, Marlowe, and I agree with him. But to stop them, to stop Jamah, he had to take the chance. Either way, we're in good hands. I'm not worried. Well, I am, but I always worry when he marches off to war."

The doorbell rang.

"Oh, dear," Kelsey murmured, making Marlowe's vehement, "Fuck!" sound extra-vulgar.

Before either of them could ask, a distinctly male voice whispered in their earpieces, "His royal highness Caliph Ibrahim al-Jamah is here, ladies. He's playing coy, ringing the doorbell. Guess he thinks you're dumb enough to let him in, Kels. Stay with the kids. Keep quiet and this will be over soon."

Marlowe's stomach dropped. Every drop of saliva was gone from her mouth. She was back in the cave, hanging from that tree limb, stretched out and struggling for air, her battered body too weak to withstand one more punch, one more hit.

Until Kelsey's pretty face came into view. Very firmly, she directed Marlowe to look down at the tablet in her hands. "Marlowe, sweetheart, don't panic. They can't get to us, I promise. Here. Let's watch."

Watch? It took a second to register what she was seeing, but the moment Marlowe knew, rage exploded from her soul. "It's him! It's really—"

Kelsey slapped a hand over her mouth. "Yes, honey. It's Jamah, but look at the woman with him. Do you recognize her?"

Forcing herself to breathe slowly, Marlowe peered closer. "Yeah, that's Barbie, the nurse in Germany who flirted with Asher. I don't know her real name."

Barbie set a small charge in the center of Kelsey's beautifully carved wooden front door and— BOOM —blew it off its hinges. The vibration from the explosion rattled the safe room's ceiling and floor, and— There he was, the self-proclaimed royal highness, the Toad of Syria. Jamah rolled through the smoky doorway and into Kelsey's immaculate home like he owned the place. He had no arms or legs, just a head and a plump body stuffed into what looked like a black bag. His head and body were held in place by straps stemming from the chair's back and under the seat. Jamah looked freakishly like something out of a science fiction horror movie, which made Marlowe wonder how anyone who followed the revered teachings of Muhammad could believe Jamah was a prophet. Yet there he sat, the self-proclaimed caliph of all Muslims, strapped onto his high-tech throne, still as proud, ugly, and evil as when he'd had all his limbs.

A high-tech yoke stretched from the rear of the chair's heavy-duty frame, over his shoulders, and around his neck. With lips and teeth, he worked several toggles on the yoke to control the chair's movement, as well as the various claws and pinchers extending from the four mechanical arms, also stretching from the chair's back. Jamah was more of a robotic spider than a man. Someone had tied his long gray hair into a sloppy bun.

His black brows looked plucked and his winkled face was clean-shaven, not bearded like most men from that part of the world. Unlike the Muslim women Marlowe knew, who were punished for not covering every bit of their bodies, Tippetts wore a black, skintight bodysuit. A sword scabbard was strapped to her back. Two hefty pistols in holsters hung off her full hips. The bandoliers crisscrossing her chest made her too-big-to-be-real boobs stand out.

These two had obviously never read the Quran. They weren't faithful Muslims in any sense of the word. They were nothing more than deviants spawned from the bowels of Hell.

"Who does he think he is?" Kelsey whispered. "A villain straight out of a James Bond movie?"

"And she looks like Catwoman. Shouldn't we warn the others?"

"No need. They're on their tablets the same as we are." Kelsey jumped to her feet and palmed the bathroom door open. "See for yourself."

Persia fluttered her fingers at Marlowe from the other room where she sat beside China, both sharing a tablet.

"Yes, thanks. That helps," Marlowe breathed. Seeing really was believing.

"Let's go join them," Kelsey said.

"Good idea."

They had just settled onto the same couch in the safe room and were watching from the same tablet, when Jamah bellowed from the kitchen, "Find Stewart's brats! Find them both. I want his little girl on this table. Now!"

"Yes, your highness," Tippetts replied like the weak-kneed follower she was. "I will find them and bring them to you as soon as I finish setting up the cameras and audio you req—"

A long metallic arm with a finger that resembled a pliers at the end elevated out of the back of the chair and stabbed the center of the table. "I said here! Now! She dies first, but only after she screams so loud and long that Stewart finally understands what revenge is. Let her brother bleed and watch. Stewart will die a thousand deaths for what he did to me. When I'm finished, it'll be—"

The feed went black. Thank God. Marlowe couldn't bear to hear another word out of that bastard's foul mouth. Her throat had already gone parchment dry, and her eyes were glued to precious little Lexie. That sweet little girl had wrapped herself in a pink slumber bag and was snoring quietly beside one of the couches. She was oblivious to the threat and she was safe. Bradley lay on his back in the center of the room, both arms spread wide, sound asleep beside protective Whipper .

Once again, Marlowe was thankful for Alex's foresight in building this room.

"Steady ladies," that same male voice whispered through their earpieces. "I'll return you to your previously scheduled programming as soon as we take out the trash. Sit tight."

"Like hell," Marlowe growled, taking possession of Kelsey's tablet like she owned it. "I have to know they're dead. I need to see them die. Kill them both, Harley! Make it hurt!"

"Yes, ma'am," the voice replied, like she was in charge.

"Harley?"

"Yes, darlin', it's me. Now go hug my wife because I know Judy's worried. Would you do that for me?" He wasn't the tease she'd met in the barn, not tonight.

"Yes, of course."

"Good, cuz I'm a little busy. Bye, darlin'. Bye, Kels. Love you gals."

"Be careful!" Marlowe ordered, but too late. Harley was already gone.

She was on her feet without the walker and on her way to do what Harley asked. But by the time Marlowe made it to the couch where Judy and Libby were sitting, her feet felt like she'd walked miles over flaming coals. Too bad. So sad. Plopping down between them, she shook off the ache and pulled her sisters in for one-armed hugs.

"I'm here, and I'm not letting go until everything's over. Don't even argue with me. Harley's orders," she snapped. Gulp. I have sisters. Five of them. Maybe more.

China and Persia flashed smiles and thumbs-ups at her. As if they sensed her emotions, both Darling and Walter climbed up on the same couch and sat on Marlowe.

"Oh, my gosh. It's either us or the dogs, girlfriend," Libby grumbled. "You have to choose."

"Pick the dogs. You're suffocating me," Judy growled.

"Oops, sorry," Marlowe answered, trading her girlfriends for the couch opposite them. Of course, the puppies followed. Darling promptly fell asleep on her lap. Walter stretched alongside her thigh and put his chin on his paws. He might be deaf, but he snored just like Lexie.

BOOM! Another explosion rattled the house, and Marlowe's world narrowed down to the confines of the safe room and the people in it. No one spoke. It seemed as if everyone was holding their breath. Marlowe surely was. She couldn't wrap her head around how Alex could've let a brutal murderer enter Kelsey's beautiful house, though. The toad of Syria was just feet away from Alex's wife and children, breathing the very same air. What was Alex thinking?

"What'll we do if Tippetts shoots the doorknob off and finds us?" Marlowe asked quietly.

"There is no doorknob," Libby replied. "Right, Kelsey? This room is just like ours, isn't it?"

"Right. Alex installed what amounts to bank vault doors on every TEAM agent's safe room, then secured those doors behind wooden panels that slide into place in case of emergencies like this one. The panel outside this room looks like ordinary walls. Ours has a family portrait hung in the middle of it. I activated vault and panel protocol after Alex called, Marlowe. There's no way anyone can get into this room. They don't even know it's here. And if, by some bizarre miracle, that witch does find us…" Kelsey's fingertips fluttered over the pistol at her side. "I'll kill her."

"We'll all kill her," Persia added, her tone as cold as ice. "Trust us. We take care of our own, Marlowe."

"But I don't see a bank vault door, just a regular, ordinary wooden door," Marlowe murmured.

"That's what you see from this side," Kelsey explained. "If you'd looked closer when you entered this room, you would've seen the mechanics of the vault door hidden within the doorjamb. It almost works like a pocket door, except it's a thousand times more secure and the jamb is quite a bit thicker. Make sense now?"

Marlowe looked over her shoulder at the ordinary looking door. "What if Jamah brought enough explosives to level the whole house? What if—?"

The lights flickered, then went out. The room turned dark. Marlowe's throat closed. This was it. The end.

"Relax," China ordered, as she activated the flashlight feature on her cell phone and focused its beam downward. Kelsey, Libby, Judy, and Persia did the same. "We've got you covered. We're safe. So are you."

"I'm not worried about me," Marlowe insisted.

"We just have to sit tight and—"

BOOM!

"He's destroying your beautiful house, Kelsey," Marlowe whined.

"He can have the house," she whispered. "It's not what's important, is it?"

"No, but—"

"There are no buts. I know what it's like to lose everything, remember? Trust me. That creep out there can have the house. Everything that's important to me is in this room. Well, almost everything. I do wish the guys were here with us."

"Oh," was all Marlowe said.

The deadly quiet in the safe room was rife with undercurrents of worry and fear. These women weren't fooling anyone. Kelsey might act tough and in charge, but Marlowe knew better. Women in love can't disguise the feelings for their husbands.

Her heart flew to Asher. Where was he now? Right now. Was he safe? In hands as good as the hands that had cared for Marlowe when she'd woken up and found herself in Virginia? Or was he alone with no one to speak gently to him and comfort him?

BANG! Another loud noise and the walls shook. Then another! What was happening outside of this room? Were Harley, Walker, and Maverick still safe? Were those noises their weapons or were they Tippetts' guns? Did Jamah have superior weaponry built into that weird wheelchair?

The suspense was too much. Marlowe bowed her head and prayed. Please don't let us die here tonight, Lord. Keep us and our men safe. Guide them as they rid this world of the despicable evil that has come for these tiny children.

Her gaze settled on Alex and Kelsey's perfect little boy. Bradley was still asleep. His arms were spread wide, like only a child who had never known fear or death could be. He trusted his mother and his father. Be the great protector of women and children that I know You are. Only You, through the capable hands of our men, can win this battle against evil. Inspire Harley and Walker and Maverick. Guide them. Watch over them. Please help them win.

Another loud boom and a crash and this time tiny dust particles sifted down from the ceiling. The house still stood firm on its foundation, but Marlowe felt the vibrations down to her soul. Please Father, bless Harley and Maverick and Walker to end the murderers who dared breach this home. Bless their aims to be true.

Tiny cracks spider-webbed the white painted wall alongside one window casement. The windows weren't cracked or shattered. Neither was the ceiling. She didn't smell smoke or fire. The safe room, maybe the entire house, was still standing.

"Breathe, ladies," Kelsey whispered. "All of us, take a good long breath and trust in our men. They're highly-trained professionals, and they've each overcome worse devils than this one."

Marlowe saw the guns then. These women were armed, their weapons in hand or beside them, at the ready. Just as Marlowe imagined their husband's weapons were.

A terrific boom rattled the walls, then another. Then nothing. The tension in the safe room ramped higher. It was so thick, Marlowe could taste it. Kelsey's pistol was now in her hand. Her knuckles were white. She was prepared to fight. For the first time in her life, Marlowe wished she owned a gun and knew how to use it. Of all these women, she was the ultimate protector. The one with experience. Why had she ever traveled without protection?

Harley came back online with a terse, "It's done, ladies, and Jamah's on his way to the morgue along with Tippetts."

"You're safe? All of you are safe?" Judy asked, her voice tight with concern.

"Yes, ma'am, and I'll be dropping by in a bit to take my best girl home. Sorry about the damage to your home, Kels. He didn't go down easy. The cleaners will be here shortly to put everything back the way it was. Stay in the safe room until they're finished, okay?"

"Yes, okay," Kelsey breathed. "Thanks, Harley. Thank Walker and Maverick for me, too."

"Sure thing."

"I'd better be your only girl." Judy grumped as she wiped her teary eyes.

"Thanks for keeping us safe, guys," Libby murmured, her voice trembling.

"My pleasure," Harley responded.

"God bless America," Marlowe whispered. It seemed right, ending this battle with a prayer.

"Damned straight," Alex declared from somewhere else. "We're coming home early, sweetheart. Keep the porch light on."

"Always, sweetheart," Kelsey breathed. "Oh, my God, it is so good to hear your voice. Fly safe."

"Is Asher coming with you?" Marlowe had to know.

"He is, but he's going to need extra-special care. Can you handle that?" Alex sounded as tense as Marlowe felt.

"Yes, please," she replied softly. "I can handle anything now. I have sisters."