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Authors: Corrina Lawson

Tags: #Childhood autism;autism;SAR;Carol Corps;therapy dogs;Navy;SEAL;superheroes;mystery;second chances;Marine

Phoenix Inheritance (9 page)

BOOK: Phoenix Inheritance
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He increased his stride as he came over the rise. Gabe was already outside the tent, talking to someone. He tossed his clean T-shirt over his bare shoulder and put on his shades to block out the sun. A few more steps and he saw the dogs with the SAR vests. Aha. He grinned. He must have impressed Renee Black more than he thought yesterday.

As he approached, Gabe waved. Daz slowed. The wave meant Gabe wanted to tell him something that he didn't want Renee to overhear. Gabe met him about twenty feet from their tent, where Renee was waiting.

“I got orders this morning,” Gabe reported in a low voice. “We're to move out as soon as Zach is stable.” He glanced back at Renee. “That might be tomorrow.”

“I guess I'm hoping he's feeling weaker.” Daz looked past Gabe. Like him, Renee had cleaned up a bit. And she still rocked a sleeveless T-shirt. “Is that a Deadpool logo on her T-shirt?” Gabe knew superheroes better than he did.

“Yep,” Gabe said. “Nice choice too.”

“Going to fight me for her?”

“I'd rather fight with her for
you
.”

“Hah.” Daz clapped him on the back. As they strolled back to the tent, Loki ran out to them, barking.

“Loki,
mellon
,” Renee called out.

Loki instantly stopped barking and trotted back to her.

“Isn't
mellon
Elvish?” Gabe said when they reached her.

“Yeah.”

“Nerd,” Daz said.

“Well, yeah,” Gabe answered.

Daz would've thought their banter would have at least made Renee smile but instead she looked even more serious than yesterday.

“So what's up? Afraid I'd leave before calling you?” he asked.

She didn't smile back or respond to his flirting. Weird, if she was here to talk to him.

“No, well, yes. Maybe.” She took a deep breath. “But this is not the time to talk about that. I need your help.”

He tapped his bare chest. “Anything I can do for the prettiest girl in the camp, I'll do.”

“Do you ever stop this charm thing?”

Damn, what would impress her? “No.”

“Then make this the first time because this is serious and I really need your help.”

Her voice broke. And were those tears drying on her cheek? Hell, get better at reading women, he told himself.

“I'm sorry. We'll do what we can. Is there something wrong with the relief effort? What happened? What do you need?”

Anything that made this woman upset had to be something as serious as a rifle butt to the head.

She took a deep breath and knelt down to her dogs, maybe gaining time to compose herself. After a few seconds, she outlined the problem with the relief plane.

Shit. No wonder she was grim this morning. Over thirty people plus crew on that plane, not to mention the needed medical supplies, and the food, blankets and temporary shelters. Fuck. What a waste. He put his shirt on, all thoughts of flirting vanished.

“And the Bulgarians won't give the Greeks or Turks permission to fly over the mountains and search. Kim said they were overly touchy for some reason.” She stood as she finished, her voice steadier.

Double fuck. The Bulgarians were being touchy because Daz and his team had just violated their airspace to recover the downed pilot and the parts of his spy plane. This mess was partially their fault. Not intentionally but still, he and his team were the reason they couldn't get rescue planes in the air. The Bulgarians probably thought the rescue plane was just a cover story for some new incursion. They'd probably threaten to shoot any plane that was even close to their airspace.

“Okay, I understand all that. What I don't understand is what you need from us,” he said.

“I'm going out on a search and rescue with Thor and Loki. I can't do it alone. As the gunshot wound on your friend proves, there are touchy locals out there. I need guards. Armed guards.”

“And?” He hoped she wasn't asking what he thought she was. But she definitely was. Dammit. Let her say it. It'd give him time to think.

“You're here, you obviously know your way around the mountains, and you're armed. Will you go with me and my dogs?”

Oh, hell, yeah, if it were up to him, he'd go with her in a heartbeat. But while his orders didn't exactly prohibit him from going, he wasn't exactly obeying them if he went with her either. “That's not—”

“You won't have to baby me. I'm wilderness trained.”

“I've no doubt of that,” he said.

“I have a general location and my dogs are air trained too, meaning they can scent people within a quarter of a mile. Plus, there's a chance that the rescue dogs on the plane will be looking to find people and lead them back to the crash site.”

Her words came out fast, too fast, because she was nervous and, he guessed, because this meant so much to her.

“Why can't someone from the relief camp go with you? The locals are going to know the area better.”

She shook her head, her curly hair falling over her forehead. “The locals have to worry about their own survival. And no one from the camp can go with me officially because there'll be hell to pay if we accidentally cross into Bulgarian territory. I won't let the relief effort be blamed. If it's just me, they have plausible deniability.”

“But you'll let
us
be blamed,” Gabe said.

“We'd all be in it together. Besides, I doubt it will come to crossing any borders.”

But it might, and if the Bulgarians guessed he and Gabe were part of the team that snuck into their country, well, there would be an international incident. That was just what their covert mission had been trying to avoid.

HQ would definitely say no if asked about going on this SAR. Make that
hell
no to any mission that would draw attention to his team having been in the mountains in the first place.

“Renee, I'm sorry, I'm not authorized to go,” he said.

“Not authorized? I thought you guys were on leave?” She cocked her head, practically daring him to contradict her.

Crap. “We have orders to report back soon.”

“Uh-huh.”

Despite the situation and his own frustration at having to say no, he smiled because she saw right through his bullshit reason for refusing her.

If he couldn't help, he at least owed her something like a real answer.

“You were right about Zach's gunshot wound, Renee. There are armed hostiles in the mountains. We were lucky to get away. It's not safe. I can't risk it again and neither can you.”

“If that's true, then it's true for any survivors of the crash. That's all the more reason to find them ASAP.”

And she was right again. Daz looked at Gabe and he saw the same indecision on his face that must be on his own.

“There's no one else, Daz. I have friends on that plane. And people here will die if we don't get those supplies. I can do this. I have to do this.”

Her voice devolved into a whisper when she mentioned her friends.

“What about your SAR work here?” Gabe asked.

Good question, Daz thought.

“There's another team here and besides, if we don't get the meds from the plane fast, the people we've already rescued could die.”

“That's
if
the supplies weren't damaged in a crash. And that's
if
there are any survivors.”

“It's always an
if
when I go out. It's never stopped me before. And there's a good chance this was a controlled crash. It was a slow descent.”

“Last night, you worried I was going to bring trouble to the camp and now you're going to trust me to guard your life?”

“I can't sit around and do nothing. If I could, I wouldn't be in this line of work.” She took a deep breath. “I know it's desperate. But I'll take the risk. Like I said, I can't just do
nothing
.”

He wouldn't be able to sit still in her place either. But, dammit, it was skirting orders to leave.

She grabbed his arm. “Daz, please. I know you must be qualified to do this. You're a special forces team leader, right?”

Daz's eyes narrowed. Dammit, he thought he'd not been that obvious. “Jesus, keep words like that quiet. Do you want to make us a target?” He looked over at Gabe. “Assessment?”

“It's damned dangerous,” Gabe said. “And while it's not technically disobeying orders, I can't see us ever getting approval to go.”

Tell me something I don't know
. “Do we have equipment to head us in the right direction, given coordinates?”

“Yes,” Gabe said.

“Do we still have a radio beacon that can provide a location on a particular frequency?”

“Yes, but I don't like where this is going. Sir.”

Gabe's words reminded him what was at stake.

“So you will help me?” Renee asked, her voice rising.

If Daz's commander decided he'd disobeyed orders, his career would be over. Of course, Daz didn't have a direct order not to go. There was that.

Her shoulders slumped. “You won't help.” She glared. “Forgive me for thinking either of you gave a damn.” She turned and whistled to her dogs. “Thor, Loki, let's go.”

His team had stirred up those hostiles and created the situation with the Bulgarians. That was on him. And there was the old saying about orders: it was easier to apologize than ask permission.

“Wait,” Daz called out.

Gabe sighed. But he didn't object.

Renee turned around. “You'll do it?”

“You're absolutely sure your dogs could find the crash site?”

“I have a better chance than anyone, at least until they get some search helicopters up there.”

Dammit, he knew his decision was influenced by his attraction to her. And, for all he knew, she could be interested the plane's cargo for other than altruistic reasons. He'd known some relief workers who smuggled drugs. Food and water weren't the only things on the black market. He was taking a huge risk, one that could cost him his command and his career. But he trusted his instincts. He'd always been good at evaluating personnel.

“Bad odds, impossible territory, and a pretty girl,” Gabe said. “You're going to say yes, aren't you?”

“Pretty girl?” Renee mumbled, staring at the ground.

“Exactly. I'm going to say yes.”

Renee's eyes widened as hope seeped back into her.

“Thank you!”

Unexpectedly, he was buried in a hug. He hugged her back. Her hair smelled like strawberry vanilla. Oh so nice. And all he'd had to do to impress her was agree to risk his life. The woman set a high bar.

After he let her go, Renee kept her head down. Maybe she was embarrassed. He doubted she was a naturally huggy person.

“I have conditions. First, I'm the boss on this mission. I'll keep us safe but only if you follow orders,” he said.

“Okay.”

She agreed to that a little too fast. So much for asserting his authority.

“And, second, we need supplies.” He rattled off a list, including rope, food and water. She repeated the list back to him perfectly.

“How fast can you get those?”

“I'll be back in less than thirty minutes,” she said, and set off at a brisk pace, her dogs at her heels.

Cute ass, he thought.

“‘Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope,'” Gabe said, clapping him on the shoulder. “White knight to the rescue. There's got to be an easier way to get laid, Sir.”

“I know, I know,” Daz said. “But she's right to want to get to possible survivors fast, especially before our hostiles in the truck convoy find that plane. And it's partially our fault the Bulgarians are being pissy about air space. You know that.”

“I know it. But that's a good reason for us to stay away from this.”

“I joined the Navy to help people. Didn't you?”

Gabe shook his head. “Speak for yourself. I got into it to troll you guys for dates.”

“There's got to be an easier way to get laid, Gabe.”

Gabe laughed. “Guess we're both nuts. But what do I tell HQ?”

“We're supposed to stay until Zach is mobile, right? So he's not mobile until I get back. What's not following orders about that?”

“You? Wait, you're going without me?”

“Yeah. Zach is injured. Someone has to keep an eye on him. And this way, you won't get into trouble.”

“Zach's going to be fine. I checked this morning. He doesn't need me, you do.”

“What if there's fallout? I don't want it landing on you.”

Gabe shrugged. “Then there's fallout. But I'm not letting my commander go out alone. We're team, right?”

“Yeah, we are.” Daz nodded. “Maybe this won't take long. We'll hike into the mountains, locate the plane, and get the hell out.”

“Yep, maybe that's what will happen,” Gabe said.

But Daz knew it was never that easy.

Chapter Five

Daz stayed in the bed long enough to ensure Renee was sound asleep. Her arm was still tucked carefully against her chest. He was going to have to wrap that shoulder and immobilize the arm when she woke up. But, right now, the best thing she could do was rest.

Outside, he heard the storm still howling, the cracking of breaking trees, and the rustle of leaves blowing. But the sounds were muted, telling him none of the damage was near the house. He felt around the bedroom for his clothes and dressed in the dark. He needed to feed the fire. As he opened the bedroom door, the hallway lights flickered and went dead. There went the power.

Renee's dogs slept in the same place as earlier, near the warmth of the fireplace. They were no dummies. He petted one of them and the dog let out a happy sigh. Daz added wood to the fire and settled down in front of the fireplace with a piece of paper from the printer. What to make? Not another bear. A dog, he decided. He let his mind go blank and his hands remembered what to do.

He'd picked up origami as a child, when his father was stationed in Japan. There had been a lot of downtime one summer when his mother was occupied with her latest pregnancy. He'd been too young to go out by himself, like his older sisters, but too old to need a babysitter. So he'd been left on his own to find entertainment. Maybe he could teach origami to Charlie, though he wondered if the kid had the patience for that.

What a day. He'd gone from almost losing Renee and Charlie to making love to Renee. Now he just had to make this work with her going forward. The hard part was over, right? She'd already taken him back to her bed.

He put the completed origami dog on the fireplace mantel.

“Dad?”

He turned. Charlie stretched his arms wide and yawned. Crap. Renee had been right to worry he wouldn't sleep through the night.

“Hey, bud, what's up?”

“I couldn't sleep.”

“You and the cat seemed pretty cozy,” Daz said.

“Oh, Odin? He said he was warm and comfy and he told me I could get up but he wasn't going to move. He said my blanket was soft.”

“I'm sure it is soft.” There was the talking-to-animals thing again.

“Want to sleep in your bed now?” Daz asked. “I'll read you a story.”

“I'm wide awake. I have energy!” Charlie bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.

“What do you usually do when you wake up at night?” Daz asked.

“I watch TV or sometimes play on my computer.” Charlie pointed to his kid-size desk in the corner.

Daz supposed he could turn on the generator. But he didn't think a video game was a good idea this late at night. Too stimulating. “No can do. Power's out. What else?”

“What? I
need
that computer!” Charlie clenched his hands into fists.

Talk about going from zero to sixty in no time flat. “Easy. Let's sit on the couch together and play a game.”

Charlie reluctantly trudged to the couch. “What kind of game?”

“My mom used to play the ‘who can be quietest the longest' game with us.”

Charlie shook his head. “That's a dumb game. I want my computer.”

“What's so important on the computer?”

Charlie launched into a long, rambling story about the pet avatar he had on the computer, including some on a website he'd designed, and the names of all the cats and kittens he'd collected and… Daz lost track of it. Charlie's words were all jammed together, almost as if his mouth couldn't keep up with how fast his words wanted to get out.

That was incredibly wound up for Charlie. “Whoa, slow down, okay?”

“I said, I want to search out one of the rare ones, a tortoiseshell cat. I even have a name for her. Elf.”

Daz nodded, since agreement seemed the wisest course. “So how long have you been doing this?”

“Oh, a while. Like I said, sometimes I wake up and do it while Mom's asleep. I'm not allowed but I do it anyway.”

Renee would be appalled. She claimed Charlie was so much better when he slept through the night.

“I really need to see my cats.” Charlie's voice rose and Daz could see the frustration rising again.

“But you have a real cat now. Why did you name him Odin?”

Charlie blinked, distracted. “I named him Odin because it goes with Thor and Loki. In the stories, Odin's the dad of Thor and Loki and can boss them around. I told Odin and he liked that, though he said that wasn't really his name. He called himself Great Hunter or something.”

“Great Hunter?”

“He caught a muskrat once.”

“That is pretty great.”

And they were back to Charlie's insistence that animals talked to him. God, Daz thought, he was in over his head. He wondered if it was possible Charlie could truly talk to animals. After all, Beth Nakamora, who co-ran the Phoenix Institute, was a telepath who talked to people with her mind. Humans were a kind of animal. But according to everything the Phoenix Institute had been able to uncover, telepaths were extremely rare and there were no records of any who could talk to animals.

A lot of kids must imagine they could talk to animals. Why should Charlie be any different, especially since Renee's dogs seemed to practically read Renee's mind? Yeah, telepathy was real, but what were the odds that his son could do it? Not freakin' likely.

“I'm hungry,” Charlie announced.

“Sure, we'll get you something to eat.” Great. That he could do.

“I want ice cream!”

Charlie bolted into the kitchen. No wonder Renee had lost him outside in the yard. The kid was fast.

“Are you supposed to have ice cream for dinner?” Would sugar in the middle of the night add to Charlie being hyper or would it fill him up and allow him to sleep?

“Well, I'm
supposed
to have power so I can have my computer. Obviously, I can't always do what I'm
supposed
to do.”

“All right, fine, ice cream.” Fine. Charlie had almost died today. He deserved a treat.

“Let's see what we have but choose quick because we can't keep the fridge open with the power out.”

The freezer contained two snack cups of two different kinds of ice cream. “So butter pecan or coffee?”

Charlie stuck his whole face into the freezer.

“I hate those! I told Mom I hate 'em but she bought them anyway.”

He stomped away.

“Have you ever tried them?” Daz asked.

“I don't want to try them! I want black raspberry or chocolate.”

“Hey, c'mon,” Daz cajoled. “I understand coffee, that's a grown-up taste but butter pecan is awesome.” Daz offered the cup to Charlie.

Charlie smacked the cup away, screamed and threw himself on the floor. “I need chocolate ice cream! I need my computer! I need my pets!” He started banging his head against one of the cabinets while kicking the floor.

Holy shit
.

Daz grabbed his son and pulled the boy back against his chest to keep him from hurting himself. He took a deep breath so he sounded calm. “Chill, Charlie. We'll get more ice cream tomorrow.”

“I don't want to calm down. I don't want tomorrow. You're mean, just like Mom.”

His son squirmed and thrashed. Little feet smacked against Daz's shins and ankles. Charlie's head bashed into his chest and his elbows dug into Daz's gut.

“You're mean. I want ice cream. I want my computer.”

He screamed again and shut his eyes tight, still thrashing.

Renee had described Charlie's fits. But her description had been far too mild for the reality. His son's face was utterly blank, his eyes were shut tight, and he was moaning and groaning as if in terrible pain.

Daz had held grown men captive with less effort than he held his thrashing son. Charlie bucked, screamed, arched his body and kicked out at everything. And Daz didn't want to hold him tighter because it might hurt his son.

He'd thought nothing could terrify him more than being Rasputin's prisoner. But this did. He was utterly helpless against this onslaught. How did he help? How did he stop it?

Daz whispered into Charlie's ear, promising to get the right ice cream tomorrow, promising the power would be back on soon, but there was no response. Charlie punched out in another attempt to get away and Daz had to tighten the hold on his wrists. At this rate, the kid was going to really hurt himself.
Shit.

Sure, Charlie got upset temporarily now and then but he always calmed down once he got what he wanted. And Daz made sure to get him that fast, because Renee claimed Charlie had a bad temper. But he'd never expected anything like this. One of the dogs padded into the kitchen and licked Charlie's face. The thrashing subsided.

“That tickles, Thor,” Charlie said in a normal voice.

Thor lay on the floor next to them and put his head on Charlie's knee. Charlie's breathing started to return to normal. Daz loosened his hold on his son's wrists. Please, let there not be bruises on them. His hands were slick with sweat. He took a deep breath, more sweat pouring down his back. He felt like a wrung-out dishrag.

How often, he wondered, did these fits happen?

“Good dog.” Charlie scratched Thor's ears. “Thanks.”

“What did he do?” What did the dog know that Daz didn't?

“He spoke inside my head and reminded me I was being silly,” Charlie said.

“And that worked better than me talking to you?”

“Well, yeah.” Charlie scooted away from him. “You talk to me outside my head. Thor talks to me inside my head.”

“I see.” Daz stood, wary. Charlie seemed calm now but he'd seemed calm before his fit too.

“I still want ice cream or my computer, though.”

“I got that part loud and clear.”

Charlie went back to hugging Thor. Daz was afraid to make any move, worried he might set off another fit.

He'd thought he'd taken Charlie's quirks seriously, as Renee insisted, and kept him on a schedule, never sprang surprises on him, ever. Plus, whatever Charlie asked for, Daz got it for him. He didn't see his son enough; he wasn't going to deprive him when he did.

He'd no idea how over-the-top Charlie's fits could be.

Renee had insisted they were like toddler fits only exponentially worse but Daz hadn't believed they could be this bad. It was normal for kids to get pissed off. He'd thought Charlie was just quick-tempered and could yell and scream too much. He knew about the autism diagnosis but he'd wondered if the doctor could be wrong, if Charlie was going through a phase, and he'd thought Charlie would grow out of it.

He'd thought wrong. Not until just now had he understood the full scope of the problem. He was six-foot-four. His son was a skinny, four-foot-tall kid. And yet, it had taken nearly all he had to hold him during that fit.

No wonder Renee wanted the school to test Charlie and classify him as special ed. Daz had thought she was being overprotective, overreacting and, dammit, he knew Charlie. His son couldn't be a special-ed kid.

Daz sat down next to Charlie and put his elbows on his knees. Fuck. He was shaking. He scratched the dog's ears. That seemed to help.

“Does Thor calm you down often?” Daz asked.

“Yeah.” Charlie said. “He's nice.”

“Not Loki?”

“Loki says he hates the yelling.” Charlie's voice dropped to a whisper. “He's not very nice to me sometimes.” Charlie patted Thor again. “But I don't scare Thor. He's always nice.”

“And what about Odin?” Daz asked.

“Oh, he's a cat. He probably wouldn't care. Cats are like that.”

Despite the situation, Daz almost laughed. “Good to know.”

“Up again, Charlie?” Renee asked, coming into the kitchen.

Somehow, she'd managed to put on her sweats, even with the injured shoulder. When he left her sleeping, Renee's face had been peaceful and relaxed. Now, it was back to that tense, closed look she'd worn for most of the past year. Daz had thought she had been angry with him.

But now he guessed her distraction was a result of dealing with Charlie on a daily basis.

“Sorry to wake you,” Daz said.

“It's okay.” She knelt next to Charlie. “How you doing?”

Charlie looked away from her.

“That bad, huh?” She ruffled his hair. “Let's get some melatonin so you rest, okay?”

Charlie stiffened again. “I want ice cream.”

Daz tensed. No, not again.

“If you get up off the floor and sit quiet, you can have some saltine crackers and peanut butter,” Renee said. “If you take the melatonin with it.”

“Okay. Fine.” And just like that, Charlie trudged over and sat at the kitchen table.

Peanut butter and crackers. Huh. Daz would have to remember that. He stood up and told Renee he'd get the food. She sat at the table across from Charlie, asking him questions about Odin.

While they talked, Daz fixed the snack, using his flashlight for light. He kept one eye on Charlie, ready to grab him in case another fit started. But, so far, so good.

He gave Charlie the plate of crackers. His son dove right in.

“Thanks,” Renee said. “And for getting up with him.”

“No problem, I was already awake.”

He went to add a log to the fire, using the time to gather his thoughts. The work also steadied his hands. Damn. What was really going on inside his son's head when this happened?

He supposed Charlie could be just being a brat, but that didn't fit because he was well-behaved ninety-five percent of the time. Daz had been around bratty kids. They acted horribly
all
of the time. It wasn't something you could turn on and off. Plus, deep in the middle of the fit, Charlie had seemed completely unaware of what he was doing, where he was and who he was. His screams for ice cream or his computer had morphed into just plain screams and inarticulate yelping.

BOOK: Phoenix Inheritance
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