Hanson stood up and reached for the phone. “Have Corporal Lloyd drive my daughter home, then immediately to my residence,” he said to his secretary. “Do up a compassionate leave pass and put Padre Madden’s signature on it. Call Captain Leroche and let him know what’s going on.” He hung up and put his hand out. Leeanne stood. “He’s a strong sonofabitch, Leeanne. Stubborn, too. Come on.”
His words sounded hollow, even to him.
CBC News
Near Kirkfield, Ontario
5 December
RCMP and the military’s Joint Task Force 2 raided a home in this quiet country town last night. Police sources state that a yearlong investigation culminated with this raid against factions of a new organization known as the Quebec Liberation Army. Unconfirmed reports state that police removed seven bodies in and around the house.
RCMP Staff Sergeant Dave Allen tells CBC News that they recovered an untold number of rifles, handguns, explosives, and over five hundred thousand dollars in cash, all destined for a new terror campaign to help Quebec secede from Canada. According to Staff Sergeant Allen, “this operation, had it had been allowed to go unchecked, would have made the old FLQ (Front de Liberation du Québec) look like a Boy Scout operation.”
Chapter 5
U.S. Army Hospital
Landstuhl, Germany
6 December, 1347 Hours
Leeanne and her father waited. They had paced back and forth so much that they had long since learned to avoid each other. Twenty paces forward and a small loop back down the hallway on the other side. Twenty more paces, another loop.
James had arrived at the American military hospital two hours earlier and was still being examined by the chief of the surgical staff. The doctors said his condition had improved, but no words could calm Leeanne’s fears. Only by seeing him, alive and breathing, would she allow herself to relax. Only then would she stop worrying.
Then she would kill him herself.
She knew in her heart he would survive: the Army couldn’t kill him. He would die from his own brand of stupidity, and nobody who knew him could argue that point.
They were at opposite ends of the hallway when the doctor stepped out of the elevator. “Every—” He looked at the two people, waiting as they converged on him. “Everything looks good, sir. They’re taking him up to room 424 now.”
Leeanne was already on her way up the two flights of stairs, and she swore when she saw he was not yet in the room. She paced to the window, crossed her arms over her chest, and waited. Occasionally, she picked at her fingernails.
Occasionally, she wiped away a tear.
The sounds of a stretcher coming down the long hallway filtered into the room. She looked at her father; their similar feelings communicated without words. Her hands trembled as James was wheeled in, and she covered her mouth. Fear and panic gripped her. She hadn’t expected him to look like this. His face was lifeless, and tubes protruded from various parts of his body as life saving fluids flowed into him.
She moved to the side of the bed and pulled a chair close. She wanted to crawl under the covers and lie next to him, to hold him and take away his pain. She caressed his cheek and day’s growth of dark beard.
James groaned, and he slowly moved his head from side to side. “James?” she said, barely more than a whisper.
His head turned toward her voice and his eyes slowly opened. He sighed. A small smile appeared and he chuckled at some private thought. He winced and gritted his teeth. “Hey, babe,” he groaned weakly. “I bet you’re pretty pissed, eh?”
She laughed. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you myself.” She kissed his forehead, lingering as the familiar smell of his skin penetrated her soul. “Dad is here, too.”
James raised his head and groaned as he again moved too far. He squinted, trying to clear the drug-induced fog. “Hey, boss?”
Hanson smiled. “Hey.”
James licked his lips. Although the intravenous fluids kept his body hydrated, his mouth was as dry as a prairie wind. Leeanne reached for a plastic cup and filled it from the pale blue jug. His mouth seemed to absorb the water before he could swallow. “How’s Emerson?”
Hanson rubbed his eyes. “He didn’t make it, son.”
“Oh, God.” Tears spilled onto the pillow. “He was my responsibility.” His voice was still quiet and husky.
“There was nothing you could have done,” he said. He moved to the side of the bed. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, you need your rest.” James nodded and closed his eyes.
Leeanne looked at him for a long while. She kissed him before standing and then leaned heavily into her father’s chest. She knew Emerson. She felt bad at losing a friend and she cried, but, this time, she was being selfish.
This time, the tears were tears of happiness.
7 December, 0923 Hours
James’s breathing changed slightly as his journey back to consciousness began. A young nurse carefully looked into the intravenous bag, watched the clear saline solution drip into the reservoir, down the thin tubing, and finally through the small needle. The tubing moved against the hair on his arm as she adjusted the drip rate, and he stirred.
“Leeanne?” He rolled his head in her direction and sighed.
She smiled as her eyes traveled over his muscled torso. God, he’s handsome. “No, sir.” She leaned over and flicked the penlight to life, “but, thank you for the compliment.”
His eyes opened wide. She was close, too close to focus on. His arm swung up and he grabbed her wrist. The penlight flew from her hand and bounced off the wall. She struggled, trying to pull away, but realized it was a futile effort.
His eyes darted back and forth, his breathing labored. For the first time in a very long time, she was afraid. The rage she saw was terrifying and it showed a side most men tried to hide, but as quickly as it appeared, his eyes, and his grip, softened.
He relaxed his hand, his breathing heavy and deep. Pain swept through his damaged body, reminding him where he was. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I—”
She frowned as she looked down. Her wrist had already started to swell. “Your family left this morning. They went back to Canada.”
“You’d think they would stay longer.”
“Why? Do you want to scare the hell out of your wife as you just did to me, sir? Now, if you’re sure of where you are and who I am, may I complete my examination so I can go put some ice on my wrist?” James looked up. He looks so much like a child. She smiled. “It’s okay.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t use my good arm, eh?”
“You don’t have a good arm, sir.”
“Oh yeah.” He moved to pour a glass of water, but couldn’t quite reach.
“I’ll get that, sir.” She reached for the water jug, coming close enough that he could smell her perfume.
Something was out of place. Something didn’t belong in Germany. “What’s that you’re wearing?”
“It’s a nurse’s jumpsuit.”
“Cute. I meant the perfume.”
She filled the glass and bent the straw into his mouth. “Vanilla