Finding Grace (24 page)

“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 had 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 against 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.

“Darmfelder. What do you plan on doing with
him?”

They were the first words Dagger had spoken. He got
up from the edge of the bed slowly and Randall noted the nice
sweater didn’t completely hide the outline of a pistol tucked into
the waistband at the back of his jeans. It didn’t take much
imagination to make out the shape of a KA-BAR at his right calf,
either.

The general found himself taking a step backward,
something he’d never done before in his life. Any of these men,
including Paul, were formidable, but Dagger was in a class by
himself and his cold rage was almost tangible.

He spoke quickly and with all the calm he could
muster. “The major has been given the choice of resigning his
commission or taking an assignment watching over some silos. But
perhaps they could find room for him in Leavenworth. He’s certainly
broken some laws.”

He winced. It wasn’t nearly enough. It would never
be enough to satisfy Dagger.

But Thorne said thoughtfully, “Leavenworth? He’d get
out too soon. Silos, huh? North Dakota. He won’t like it there.”
She had a beautiful smile, even if there was a hint a malevolence
to it.

“He won’t make it there.” Dagger had said it very
softly, but once again, the room was quiet.

“Yes, Peaches, he will.” Smirks and snorts broke
out, relieving some of the tension. “Now I’m all for self-defense
and if I’d killed him trying to get away, I wouldn’t blink an eye.
But revenge is something else. It’s wrong. If I believed in
revenge, three inmates in a federal prison would have died very
slow and painful deaths instead of the quick ones they got.” The
room fell silent again. “I’m not confessing to anything, mind you.
I’m just saying, is all. And Jack, are you hearing me?”