Captive of Fate (18 page)

“Is that how you got your shoulder wound?” she asked softly.

“Yeah. I recuperated in-country at a hospital in Saigon and then got orders cut to the I Corps area again.”

Alanna watched him, amazement evident in her wide-eyed gaze. “Why? Surely you could have gone home at that point?”

He turned, regarding her moodily. “Home to what? My parents were dead, my wife and baby…hell, Alanna, I was empty inside and at the same time filled with so much hate, anger and bitterness that it was eating me up alive. In my own convoluted way, I was trying to release that hatred against a known enemy. I couldn’t face my brother and his wife or their kids yet. I just didn’t have the emotional stamina to stand on my own two feet.”

“How did you and Tim Thornton meet, then?” she urged gently.

Matt ran his fingers through his hair in an aggravated gesture. “My company commander, who was also my best friend, wouldn’t let me go back to the Recons because my shoulder was not fully healed yet. So he put me in charge of a company of Marines instead.

“Morale was at an all-time low. We were trying to extricate ourselves from an embarrassing little war that we had no business being in. But orders kept coming down to continue our search-and-destroy raids and our ambushes. It was then Tim was transferred into my company. He had enough rank to take certain responsibilities for his squad, a group of ten men. But he was high on grass most of the time, and once the gunnery sergeant found him shooting up.” Matt’s face became grim and battle-hardened.

“I have no use for a soldier on dope or drugs. He’s a threat to everyone, not just to himself. I was ordered by my superior to take the company out on one of the last search-and-destroy sweeps. Tim, in the four months he’d been with us, had become a real albatross. He knew he had his father’s political clout behind him. He pulled things that no one else would dare and got away with it.”

Alanna moistened her lips. “Somehow, I can’t envision you letting him get away with it too often, Matt,” she began slowly.

He gave a derisive snort. “If I had had my way, he would have been sent flying back stateside so fast it would have made his head spin,” he growled. “He was just one of those rebels that would eventually get a lot of people hurt, and I knew it….” He rested his arms against his long muscular thighs, clasping his hands in front of him. “In retrospect I realize I should have done something about it sooner,” he muttered.

“What stopped you?”

Matt remained silent for almost a minute before answering her. “My company commander, Bob Green, told me he was getting pressure from headquarters staff to give Tim a good report. Bob and I had grown up together in Maine, and when he joined the Marine Corps I went away to college. He worked up through the ranks, and when I joined up after graduation we renewed out close friendship. When I needed someone, Bob used his authority to get me under his command, and I was grateful. Neither of us expected Tim Thornton to be dumped on us.

“Bob asked me to be patient with the kid because the staff threatened to ruin his career otherwise, and he was sitting in a good position to become a general himself someday. I agreed to try to ride the situation out. But Tim kept eroding the morale of the men. Finally I said to hell with it and flew to Da Nang to see what I could do. I tried everyone, from the colonel on down, hoping to take their attention away from Bob and focus it on me instead.” His face grew hard. “And that’s where I got my hatred for politics, Alanna. I was told that Tim was the son of an influential senator who held the purse strings to the military via the committee on defense spending. They didn’t want the boat rocked. The Chiefs of Staff were afraid of large defense cutbacks and didn’t want Thornton’s son implicated in
anything
which might set the military up as a target of his father’s vast senatorial anger and power. God, I can still see myself standing stiffly at attention while that panel of officers explained their reasoning to me. I was told that if I intended to remain a career officer I’d better learn to live with the kid. Not only that, they threatened to destroy Bob’s career if there was any trouble. It was an effective maneuver. I might have destroyed my own career, but they were betting high stakes that I wouldn’t jeopardize his.” He sighed raggedly. “They were right,” he whispered.

Alanna stared at Matt disbelievingly. “It sounds like they blackmailed you,” she murmured.

He gave her a cutting smile. “They did. It was on that final sweep that everything went to hell,” he said, tiredness evident in his voice. “When we stopped to make camp on the fifth night, LPs, or listening posts, were set out around the perimeter of the company. The men in the LPs were on watch for four hours at a time. It was their job to warn the company if the enemy was getting ready to launch a surprise attack. Tim had the post at the northern side of the camp. According to the surviving Marines in his company, he had taken a couple of uppers before going out,” Matt snarled softly. “The LPs were supposed to radio at any sign of danger so I could call in air strikes and get assistance to protect my men.”

Matt rubbed his palms against his thighs, straightening up. “To make an excruciating story very short, Tim, after being “up,” promptly came down and fell asleep at his post. The enemy did launch a ground assault against us early that morning. Tim apparently awakened after the sappers, who carry explosives, had passed by him. I don’t know whether he was disoriented or just plain scared, but he got out of the foxhole and ran into the jungle.”

Alanna inhaled sharply, her hand across her mouth as she stared at Matt. “Are you saying he deserted his post?”

Wearily, Matt nodded. “Exactly. He left our entire company vulnerable to attack. Our first warning was when the sappers started blowing holes in the concertina barbed wire and the enemy began to pour through those holes, attacking the awakening men.” He rubbed his face, shaking his head. “God, it was the worst nightmare I’ve ever survived, Alanna. We ended up rallying enough to throw back the first wave. But the second wave came, and we had so many casualties, I—” His voice halted. Finally, his words came out in anguished tones. “I had to call in an air strike on top of our own position in order to save us.”

“Oh, no,” Alanna cried softly, large tears blurring her vision. She resisted the horrible image of an air strike being dropped on both the enemy and the Marines.

“It’s a last-ditch procedure, when you’re being overrun.” He gave a painful shrug. “Not one that we like to employ, but—if it hadn’t been for Tim leaving his post, it would never have happened. Never.” The final words were grated out with such coldness that Alanna felt her stomach knot.

“I launched an investigation as to what had happened. We found Tim’s body almost a quarter of a mile away—he had been killed by the enemy. I interrogated his squad mates…or what was left of his squad. The two men who survived told me he had been drinking alcohol before going out and popped the uppers just before leaving for his post. I had Thornton’s body flown directly to Saigon for autopsy. At that point, I didn’t care any longer. The press was hounding headquarters, and the pressure was on Bob because he was the officer in charge. I was going to make sure Thornton got credit for the massacre and that Bob’s name as well as my own were cleared in the process. I had all the proof I needed because the autopsy report from the hospital showed significant levels of alcohol as well as drugs in his bloodstream.”

“They stopped you,” Alanna stated hoarsely, her eyes round with disbelief. “Oh, my God, Matt, you mean all these years you’ve taken the blame for what happened, and it wasn’t your fault?” she cried.

He managed a bitter smile. “Let’s just put it this way, honey. Orders came down, unofficially, that my commander was to cover up the whole sordid affair. I was so distraught at that point, I allowed Bob to make me promise to go along with the phony story. In essence, we were both ordered to go along with the cover-up. And if we didn’t, then we could expect our careers to be ruined. And the blame for the massacre would be squarely laid on Bob.”

She could only sit there in shock. “I can’t believe you would sacrifice your convictions in such a situation.”

“Frankly, when I look back on it, I can’t either,” he admitted. “But you have to remember my emotional instability, the shock of losing so many Marines, and the fact that my best friend was begging me not to spill the ugly truth. And the truth wouldn’t really help anyone. Tim was dead—he couldn’t be taught a lesson.” He turned, grasping her hand and squeezing it. “We all do things we’d never thought we would do when the pressures are great enough, Alanna. Maybe you’ve never been beaten down so far you couldn’t separate right from wrong. Looking back on it, I realize I should have insisted on an investigation that would put the blame squarely on Tim Thornton. Hindsight is always more accurate,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“So you’ve lived with this cover-up during the rest of your military career,” she said. “And you’ve taken the brunt of Senator Thornton’s hatred because he thought
you
caused Tim’s death.”

“Yes, and the ironic thing is that ever since Bob became a general, he and Senator Thornton have constantly been at each other’s throats over the defense budget. I guess everything goes full circle.”

Alanna straightened up, recalling the bitter feuds between the senator and the military in the finance committee. “You don’t mean General Robert Green?” she breathed.

“Yes.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “See how messy a political problem it has become?”

She had automatically put her hand against her breast. “My God,” was all she could stammer out. “Can you imagine the scandal that would explode on the Hill if this ever got out? The senator is a dove, and he hates the military for so many reasons. If his son’s memory were dragged through the mud that way, he’d become rabid in his hatred.”

Matt got to his feet, taking both her hands and pulling her up. “It would be political disaster for the military,” he agreed grimly.

“And it might ruin your career and reputation, too,” she stammered, looking up at him worriedly.

He laughed softly, sliding his arms around her hips and drawing her against him. “I’ve only got two years left, honey, and there isn’t much they can do to hurt me now. The only reason I continue to take Thornton’s abuse is because I’m what is known as a ‘short-timer’ now. I can see the end in sight, and I have the strength to bear that load until I get my discharge papers.” He leaned down, caressing her lips in a long kiss. As he drew away he muttered, “Besides, I’m in love, and I’m happy for the first time in many, many years. And your love and understanding will make it easy to carry this damned albatross the last two years.”

A
lanna stood in the foyer of her apartment, unable to move away from Matt. It was late Sunday evening, and she was feeling tired, but happy.

“Look, you get some rest, lady,” Matt ordered gently. “I’ll call you tomorrow evening, and we’ll make some plans for the next week. Fair enough?

She thrilled to even the slightest touch of his hand upon her body. How could a weekend go so quickly? It all seemed like a beautiful dream that was fading away, and now she was beginning to wake to the cold, harsh reality of living once again. But he was standing there, that arresting gaze caressing her with unspoken love. Mustering a small smile, she nodded. “It sounds wonderful,” she whispered.

“Good. Maybe, if we get lucky, I can steal you away to my home in McLean for next weekend. Deal?”

Her heart thudded at his husky invitation. “I’d love that, Matt.”

*

The senator’s office was in a flurry of preparations as Alanna entered the suite of bustling, busy rooms. Aides and secretaries were walking quickly back and forth, and the air was charged with an indefinable electricity. She stopped by Peggy’s desk as a matter of habit to pick up her weekly assignments.

“What’s going on?” she wanted to know.

“Plenty, believe me,” the secretary responded, giving her a full smile.

Alanna had never particularly cared for Peggy. Why was it that when Peggy smiled like that it brought a picture of a barracuda to mind? Shifting her briefcase to her left hand, Alanna asked, “What’s on my agenda for the week, then?”

Peggy reached into her bottom left drawer and pulled out a heavy manila envelope with Alanna’s name neatly typed on it. “You mean two weeks, my dear. Here are your airplane tickets and a packet of information on your assignment. The senator was so pleased with your lobbying efforts in California that he’s sending you to the state of Washington to confer with several companies that have defense contracts with the federal government. You’ll be meeting with representatives of several major aeronautics corporations and gathering data that he needs in order to develop a better picture of the defense budget request due up for vote in the next several months. All the info is there. You’d better rush home and pack a bag because I’ve got you leaving on an eleven-thirty flight to Seattle.”

Alanna moaned inwardly, staring at the packet. Without a word, she turned and went to her office, picking up pertinent telephone messages and then leaving the Hill. Disappointment transformed her ebullient mood into a spiraling depression. Two weeks away from Matt? Her heart twinged with real pain at the thought of the unforeseen separation. She set her briefcase down after entering her apartment and went directly to the phone. Dialing Matt’s office, she was connected with his secretary.

“I’m sorry, but Colonel Breckenridge is in a meeting all morning. May I take a message?”

Alanna caught her lip between her teeth, unsure. What if certain people over at the Pentagon found out that she had called? Would it create an embarrassing situation for Matt? The story he had told her on Sunday was fresh in her mind, and she wanted to protect him from any possible problems. “No—no thank you. I’ll just try at a later time. Thanks.”

To her despair, when she got to the airport she discovered she had not packed her personal telephone book, which contained his home phone number. In her hurry to catch the flight, Alanna had literally thrown her clothes into a suitcase and called a taxi. It had been a miserable oversight on her part. His home phone, she found out, was unlisted. Once in Seattle, Alanna was caught in meeting after meeting, and the few times she tried to call Matt’s office, he was not at his desk.

Finally, the following Friday, she got a chance between meetings to place a call to the Pentagon.

“I’m sorry,” his secretary answered crisply, “but Colonel Breckenridge will be out of his office until Monday. May I take a message?”

Alanna grimaced, her fingers gripping the phone more tightly. “No—I, uh, guess not.” She slowly let the phone drop back down on the receiver cradle, staring at it for a long, long time. She threw herself into her meetings, using both Saturday and Sunday to cut short the number of days she had to spend in Seattle. The men and women she met with were only too happy to hold business discussions in the evening, as long as the senator’s office picked up the tab. Alanna neither read the newspaper nor watched television because of the accelerated itinerary. By twelve each night, she fell into an exhausted sleep, too tired to care what was taking place in the world around her.

Early Thursday morning, Alanna placed a call to Peggy. “I’m coming home early, Peggy. The work is completed, and I’ll have the report on the senator’s desk by Monday morning.”

“Oh, that’s great! I’m so glad you called in! The senator is anxious for you to return and wants to see you the minute you land. I’ll pass the word along that you’ll be arriving at Washington International at three this afternoon.”

Alanna hung up, on the verge of mental and emotional exhaustion. She ignored Peggy’s bright mood, not stopping to wonder why the woman was suddenly being so friendly. Right now, all she wanted to do was get to her apartment, find Matt’s home phone number, and contact him. God, how she missed him!

*

The flight was bumpy, making her even more irritable by the time the jet landed. It was cold and rainy; the winds buffeted the plane strongly from the northwest. She hadn’t slept well for several days, worrying about being out of touch with Matt. What would he think? He couldn’t know she had forgotten his phone number. And, afraid of the Washington grapevine, she hadn’t wanted to mail a note to his Pentagon office. Would he be worried? Angry, perhaps? No, she told herself, he would understand. She got up, joining the line of people trudging out single file from the plane. After she explained it to him, he would understand. A tired smile pulled at her mouth. They would both laugh at her silly mistake later over a drink at her apartment. As she emerged from the congested boarding area into the main airport, Alanna was mentally planning the logistics of spending the evening with Matt.

She was so enmeshed in her thoughts that she failed to see the wall of photographers, television cameras, and other media representatives who were waiting like anticipating vultures as she walked into full view. Flashbulbs popped, the blinding strobe lights of the portable television cameras snapped on, and reporters crying out Alanna’s name brought her to a stunned, shocked halt.

“Ms. McIntire! Ms. McIntire!” one aggressive reporter yelled, thrusting his microphone ahead of the wall of human bodies as they surged forward toward Alanna. “Is it true? Have you finally ripped open Colonel Breckenridge’s black market ring down in Costa Rica? Tell me, how did you find out he was stealing medical provisions?”

Alanna’s eyes widened enormously, and her lips parted. A tidal wave of fear consumed her as she stared open-mouthed at the reporters and television crews. They swirled around her like buzzards circling a dying animal. More microphones were thrust at her like weapons. The brightness of the lights caused her to shield her eyes momentarily.

“How did you do it, Ms. McIntire?”

“Senator Thornton says you were responsible for proving Colonel Breckenridge’s complicity. Do you have a comment for us? Do you find the colonel’s actions as despicable as the senator does?”

“The senator says you were responsible for gathering the evidence and would testify before the special investigative committee looking into this matter.”

Panic struck her, and adrenaline surged through her body, making her want to run and hide from their relentless attack. Stunned and confused, she made a half-turn, bumping into another reporter, a red-haired woman who smiled brightly at Alanna.

“How did you gather this evidence in Costa Rica?” she asked.

Alanna wanted to scream. This couldn’t be happening! No…oh, God, no! Her mind was blanking out from shock. Matt, she screamed silently, Matt, I need to talk to you! Oh, God, what’s happened? There wasn’t any evidence against you! What happened?

“Please, give us a statement!” someone else shouted over the noise.

Alanna felt the growing silence as all eyes and cameras were trained upon her. The woman reporter at her elbow reacted first.

“Did you gather evidence?” she pressed.

Alanna glanced at her, her eyes wide and startled. “I—uh, yes, I did, but—”

“Isn’t it true Colonel Breckenridge gave you a hard time right after you landed in Costa Rica?” another reporter shouted.

“Yes, but I—”

“And didn’t you find pieces of medical crates in the highlands a few days later?”

Her nostrils flared, and she felt real paranoia. “We found crates, but they didn’t belong to the San Dolega effort!” she nearly shouted. “Matt—I mean Colonel Breckenridge was with me, and we both agreed that the crates weren’t from San Dolega,” she repeated, her voice charged with raw emotion.

A television crew shoved their way forward, and Alanna recognized a man from one of the local stations. “Ms. McIntire, the senator says that he has evidence to prove that those crates
were
from the San Dolega relief effort and that a missionary had brought evidence to him prior to that. What do you have to say to that? Was Colonel Breckenridge trying to lead you off the trail?”

She looked around wildly for some avenue of escape. She
had
to find Matt! The initial shock had worn off, and now the adrenaline that had been pumping so strongly through her body took over. She glared at the television reporter, pushing by him.

“Colonel Breckenridge never lied to me!” she snapped, and then she shouldered her way through the crowd as quickly as she could, hurrying down the long tiled corridor toward the baggage claim.

They followed her, hounds on the scent of their quarry. To her relief, Alanna spotted Senator Thornton’s chauffeur waiting in the baggage area. She ran forward to meet him, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

“Stephen, please drive me to the office. Immediately. You can come back and pick up my baggage later.”

The white-haired chauffeur nodded briskly, taking her airline folder.

“Of course, Ms. McIntire. The senator wanted me to take you to his office as soon as your chat with the reporters were finished.”

Alanna shot a look over her shoulder; the group of reporters was fast closing in on them. “Just get me out of here,” she whispered tightly. “Now!”

*

Distraught, Alanna walked quickly by Peggy’s desk and twisted the handle of the door to the senator’s inner office.

“Alanna,” he greeted warmly, putting his pen beside the document he had just signed. “Thank you for dropping by. I’m sure you must be exhausted after the jet flight and your interview with the press. I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to this in the future, but please, sit down, my dear. We have several topics to discuss.”

She ran her fingers tensely through her dark hair.

“Senator, what is going on? I didn’t find Colonel Breckenridge guilty of
anything
at San Dolega!” Her voice rose in pitch as she asked the question. He gave her a paternal smile, as if he were dealing with a precocious child who had just thrown a temper tantrum.

“My dear child, you are white as a sheet. Here, have some brandy. I’m sorry that Peggy forgot to inform you that the press would be there, but surely you knew about all this? After all, it’s been on the evening world news on all the networks for the last three days.”

Alanna felt dizzy suddenly, gripping the edge of the desk with whitening fingers. “What?” she whispered hoarsely.

Thornton ambled around the desk to his liquor cabinet, pouring her a small snifter of brandy. Handing it to her, he continued smoothly, “And because of your thorough investigation I want to be the first to congratulate you on your new post as my chief lobbying associate.” He raised his snifter, clinking the side of her glass in toast. “I believe a ten-thousand-dollar raise also goes with your new position.”

Alanna’s hand trembled badly, the apricot brandy sloshing against the sides of the crystal snifter. “Oh, my God…”

Thornton guided her to the rich, plush expanse of his sofa. “Certainly you deserve the position, Alanna. I’ve watched you for two years and have admired your stamina and loyalty to me and the public. And you’ve enabled me finally to bring Breckenridge to justice. I can’t think of a better way to reward you than make you my right-hand man…person in our lobbying efforts.” He leaned over, patting her shoulder and smiling confidentially. “Congratulations, my dear. You’ve given me the murderer of my son, and I’m gratefully indebted to you because of that. All that remains now is the enjoyment of watching him stripped of his falsely won honor and medals. You do know that the entire investigation is going to be picked up by all the major networks and broadcast after the eleven-thirty news each night? I’ve seen to that.” He turned away, setting the snifter down and rubbing his fleshy hands together. “And I owe it all to you,” he murmured.

Her heart pounded like a thrashing, mortally wounded bird in her chest as she rose unsteadily to her feet. Her throat was scratchy with tears. “This is a mistake. All a terrible mistake, Senator. Those crates weren’t from the San Dolega mission. I had photographs of them….”

Thornton was regarding her silently from beneath his bushy eyebrows. “Yes, I had prints made from the one roll of film you gave us,” he commented smoothly.

Alanna froze mid-stride. “There were two rolls, not one.”

“When you handed me that manila envelope, my dear, there were twenty-five pages of your report and one canister of film.”

Alanna stared at Thornton, stunned. “No,” she cried. “No, there were two! I know, I put them there myself. That other roll had all the shots of the crates and their numbers. Those numbers didn’t match the numbers on the relief supplies flown into San Dolega. The policemen who were with me saw them. They can swear to you that the crates weren’t from San Dolega!”

Thornton smiled patiently, reaching for a thick folder on his desk. “You’ll find in here notarized statements from those very policemen affirming that those crates
were
from San Dolega, my dear. Furthermore, the police commissioner was kind enough to send a letter testifying to his men’s unimpeachable character. He has also uncovered a bank account containing ten thousand dollars in Colonel Breckenridge’s name at the main bank in San Jose. It definitely links him with the stolen supplies. Listen, you go home, take tomorrow off, and go through the contents of this envelope. The hearing starts Monday, and I want you well rested and your thoughts in order when it begins.” He put his arm on her shoulder, escorting her to the door of his office. “After all, this is the first of many important steps in your new job, and I wouldn’t want you to be too tired to testify in our behalf. I’ll have Stephen drive you to your apartment.”