Ruthless (4 page)

CHAPTER 14

Alton called Mallory as usual that night. During their conversation, he informed her of his plan to protect Chelsea. Mallory agreed with the plan but seemed stiffly formal with him as he discussed it with her.

“So, Agent Wilson,” asked Alton, “Is there any chance you could change your plans, too? I know it’s hard to move your schedule around, but I’d sure like for you to come to Tifton so we can be there together like we originally planned.”

“I don’t know, Alton. I just got a new boss a few months ago. I’m not sure how he’ll react.”

“Can you ask Agent Stewart to refer you to this case? I really do think you can help untangle all this.”

He could hear the smile in Mallory’s voice. “I think so. I’ve been helping him on this case from the very beginning, so I could probably justify the trip as part of the investigation if I talk with Chelsea while I’m there.”

“Good. I was hoping it would still work out.”

She couldn’t resist teasing him. “I don’t suppose your wanting to see me has anything to do with this request to interview Chelsea, does it?”

“Who, me?” replied Alton innocently. “I can never keep a straight face with you, even over the phone,” he chuckled. “Of course it does, Mallory, but I wouldn’t ask for you to be on the case if I didn’t think it was a good call.”

“Okay, let me talk with Stewart and Wiggins, my boss, tomorrow. I’ll text you as soon as I know. However, I don’t think I can justify a two-week investigation, so I may end up taking some time off.

“You know, the more I think about it, the more I think Wiggins will approve it. He’s pretty cool, and I just wrapped up two of my cases this week. He hasn’t assigned me to any new cases yet, so this would probably be a good time to ask for this new assignment. Also, I’ll call Mom and let her know that your introduction to her will have to be pushed out—again.”

“Good deal.” In a more serious tone, Alton continued, “Mallory, do you think the mob will be able to track us down to Tifton?”

“It depends on who they have on the inside.”

“‘Who,’ not ‘if’?” asked Alton.

“It’s usually a ‘who,’ frankly. If they have a
police
mole, they can track the course of the investigation, but they probably won’t be able to track down our location. If they have an
FBI
mole, they can determine my location and therefore yours. If they have a person working for any one of the phone companies, they can track our location through our cell phones, right?”

“Normally, yes,” replied Alton, “but I have a trick up my sleeve on that score. A project team at Kruptos just developed a nifty little cell phone anti-tracking program. It blocks GPS-based cell phone tracking. It’s not on the market ‘cause we haven’t yet decided how to sell it. We don’t want to piss off all of our current customers who are trying to keep up with their teenagers. I think this new app would suit
our
needs perfectly, though.”

“You’re still my protector, aren’t you? Always looking out for me,” said Mallory. “I’ll feel a lot safer with you there.”

“Bring your Glock, though, just in case.”

Alton and Mallory soon concluded their call. Mallory’s reference to Alton as her protector led him to cast his mind back to the hospital room in which she had first addressed him by that title. Through her ingenuity, Mallory had survived a vicious assault by the orchestrator of a nefarious plot to divert a rabies vaccine program into a biological weapon. She had been recovering from the wounds sustained during that assault.

Mallory had just told him that Scott, the man Alton had assumed to be her boyfriend, was in fact her brother. “My dad died when I was thirteen,” she had said. “Scott was like a father to me after that. He really was my protector back then. But I think that role has been taken over by someone else now, don’t you?”

Alton remembered the combined sensations of inexpressible joy and utter shock he had experienced at the unexpected turn of events. At that moment, he had known intellectually that he was happy but had felt too numb to internalize the emotions attendant with the new and better path now opening up to his life.

Mallory had both laughed and cried as her emotions overflowed.

Alton recalled approaching Mallory in her hospital bed and softly laying his right hand on hers, his normal eloquence momentarily deserting him. “Mallory, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

She had moved her free hand atop his and squeezed it. She had been crying, but with tears of joy rather than sorrow. After his question, she had brought his hand to her lips and softly kissed it. After stating, “It’s my turn for regret avoidance,” with a laugh, she had asked, “Don’t you
want
to be my protector?”

At that moment, the purpose Alton had been seeking to reestablish in his life snapped into focus, and the dream he had long considered far out of reach appeared, inexplicably, not only within his grasp but as a manifested reality.

He had taken both her hands in his. “Mallory, I’ve had the good fortune to achieve some of my aspirations, and have seen others fade away unrealized, but they all pale in comparison with the dream of calling you my beloved. I have never loved anyone the way I love you. I don’t think any man has loved a woman the way I love you. If I look stunned, it’s because I never thought I’d have the chance to tell you this.”

Mallory had seemed surprised yet happy with the depth of his emotion. Her lips had continued to tremble. “If you felt that way, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t take that chance. We’re such good friends—even better friends after this past week. I didn’t want to lose that friendship by throwing myself at you. I couldn’t see how someone as talented and smart and beautiful as you would ever be interested in dating a guy like me. I figured I’d hold on to the one thing I had: our friendship.”

A cloud of doubt suddenly shadowed Alton’s mind. “So
are
you truly interested in me as more than just a friend? Or have I made the most colossal mistake of my life?”

She had smiled through her tears. “Alton, I’ve loved you since we were together in Afghanistan. You were always so serious and proper, I never thought you felt anything for me beyond friendship. Once you left the Army, I thought I had lost you.”

Alton had only been able to shake his head in disbelief, too shocked to respond to Mallory’s last statement. He could only repeat in his mind the words he had never expected to hear from her truthful lips.
I’ve loved you since we were together in Afghanistan.

CHAPTER 15

Chelsea and Alton left Kruptos early the next day to avoid the worst of Atlanta’s rush-hour traffic. After swinging by Alton’s condo to pick up his dog Buster, they merged onto the interstate in the direction of his southern-Georgia hometown. They cruised south on I-85 through downtown Atlanta and emerged out the other side, eventually pulling away from the heavy traffic.

Alton picked up speed as the traffic thinned. As he distanced himself from the rush-hour snarl, his phone rang. He was surprised at the name on his caller ID.

“Hello—Fahima?” he answered. He put the phone on speaker to make driving a little easier.

“Yes, hello Alton. I am Fahima. How are you?” came a reply accompanied by the crackle of white noise.

“I’m great. Is everything okay?” Alton couldn’t recall a time Fahima had ever called him directly.

He heard the sound of mild laughter. “Yes—I am good. Do you remember I meet with judge this morning?”

“That’s right,” replied Alton. “I forgot that was today.”

“Yes, for me was fifteen hours ago. The time is one in the morning here. David is at work right now and cannot talk with me. If I tell you what happen with the judge, can you tell to him tomorrow? I will be sleeping.”

“Sure, Fahima. I’d be happy to help.”

“I know,” said Fahima. “David say you are a man who like to help other people. He is right. Your eyes tell of this.”

A little embarrassed with the praise, Alton decided to move the conversation forward. “So you said you met with the judge this morning. How did that go?”

“That is another reason I am calling you. I am not sure. When I go to judge, he tell me my father leave me seventeen million Afghani. This is same as about three hundred and ten thousand United States dollars. Do you think it is enough for me to get US visa?”

“Holy crap—really?” cut in Chelsea. “That should do the trick, don’t you think, Alton?”

Alton smirked as he replied, “I would think so, but I’ll check with Professor Riley to confirm.” He glanced at the clock on his dash. “Fahima, what time does David get off work today? Do you know?”

“He say not until very late, the mid-morning hours my time. I think about eleven o’clock your time.”

Alton mused. “If I can reach Professor Riley now, I may even have an answer to the visa question before I call David. It’d be nice to be able to tell David what your inheritance means for your chances of getting a visa.”

“Yes, it will be good to know that before you call David.”

“Fahima,” said Alton, “do you want me to call you back after I talk to the professor?”

“No, thank you. I go to sleep now. It is very late for me. I call you tomorrow.”

As soon as he ended the call with Fahima, Alton attempted to contact Professor Riley, but the professor didn’t pick up. Alton left a voice mail message with a brief description of his reason for calling, hoping to hear a reply in time to contact David that evening.

After driving for a few more hours, Alton and Chelsea arrived in Tifton just as the setting sun began to kiss the horizon. Alton wound through a historic neighborhood and stopped in front of a small but tidy house.

Alton had scarcely stopped his Explorer when the cheerful faces of his family burst from the abode to greet him and his companion. Alton and Chelsea emerged from the SUV, and Buster wagged his tail wildly as Alton’s family approached.

“Chelsea,” said Alton, “I’d like you to meet my mom Gail, my newly-licensed sister Kayla, and my youngest sister Ruth.”

“It’s great to meet all of you,” said Chelsea.

Alton’s family expressed their pleasure in return, Ruth somewhat more timidly than the other two.

Gail Blackwell stepped forward to help Chelsea carry her many suitcases. Although she showed signs of a somewhat inactive lifestyle, Gail’s strong eyes bore witness to perseverance over a lifetime of trials.

Alton walked toward the house with his sisters.

“How’s the driving coming?” he asked Kayla. “Hit any pedestrians yet?”

“No, goober. Have you?” she replied, her blonde hair and white smile reflecting the last glow of sunlight.

“You’re funny,” Alton retorted. He turned to his youngest sister. “Look at you, Ruth—you’ve grown in just the last few months.”

“Yep—it’s great,” she replied with a morose expression. “I’ve always wanted to be taller than all the boys in my class.”

“It won’t last,” reassured Alton. “They’ll catch up in a year or two.” He put an arm around each of his sisters, content in the reunion he had anticipated for over a month.

“Hey, where’s Mallory?” asked Kayla. Both girls turned an inquiring face toward Alton.

“She’ll be here tomorrow—don’t worry,” reassured Alton. “I can’t wait for you all to meet her.”

After putting away the luggage, Alton’s sisters and Chelsea crowded around the kitchen table while Gail and Alton started dinner.

“How’s the girl you helped in Kabul? Mastana, right?” asked Kayla.

“Yes, that’s her name,” confirmed Alton. “She’s doing well—star student, lots of friends. The only dark spot for her is that her mom is sick. Her uncle is a member of Al-Qaeda.” He shook his head. “I hope Mastana doesn’t end up living with him.” After sustaining an injury from a bomb detonated inside his mobile communications van, Alton had been assigned to an Army desk job in Kabul during his recovery. During that time, he had rescued Mastana from the site of an IED detonated in a local bazaar, putting his own recovery in peril by carrying the child to safety. The two bombing survivors had remained close ever since.

“I’d sure like for you all to meet her one day,” continued Alton, for a moment casting his mind back to his days in Kabul. He turned to Ruth. “In many ways, she’s a lot like you. I think you’d love her. And you too, Kayla,” he added, turning to the older of his two sisters.

“I still have a hard time visualizing you in the Army,” interjected Chelsea from across the kitchen. “If it wasn’t for…well, you know,” she said, glancing at his leg, “I’d never peg you for a soldier. You carry yourself more like an ivy league prof or corporate exec.”

Alton smiled good-naturedly. “Thanks. I’ll settle for an honorably-discharged vet and telecom security manager.”

“Do you know about all the stuff he did in Afghanistan?” asked Kayla.

“No—he never talks about it, at least not around me,” replied Chelsea.

“Kayla—,” began Alton.

“You know you’re not gonna say anything about it,” said Kayla, “so you might as well let me.”

For the next hour, Kayla regaled Chelsea with tales of Alton’s years in the service of his country, his selfless acts of heroism, large and small, his compassion, and the injury which eventually resulted in his return to civilian life. By the time she finished, the eyes of both Gail and Chelsea glistened in the bright kitchen lights, and Alton felt a renewed appreciation for his second chance at life, an opportunity denied to most of the soldiers who had worked with him in the mobile communications van back in Afghanistan.

The next day Mallory arrived in a rented Mustang. Alton’s family greeted her even more boisterously than they had Alton himself. Chelsea’s greeting was polite but lacked the others’ enthusiasm. Mallory, in turn, was friendly as always but seemed a bit taken aback upon seeing Chelsea for the first time.

Once inside, Alton pulled Mallory aside for a consultation. After filling her in on the details of Fahima’s inherited windfall, he said, “I haven’t heard back from Professor Riley yet. Fahima said she’d like to have his feedback before I called David, but I don’t think she—or I, for that matter—was expecting it to take so long to get ahold of Riley. Do you think I should go ahead and call David with the information we have now or keep waiting for the professor?”

Mallory considered the question. “Well, why don’t we give the professor through the end of today? If you don’t hear back from him by tomorrow morning, you can always call David then. I don’t think waiting twelve hours would be too much of a delay.”

“Yeah—that sounds perfect. Thanks, Hon,” he said, leaning down to give her a quick kiss.

In the kitchen that night, Mallory helped Gail wash and dry the dishes while Alton prepared a pot of decaf coffee.

“Is this the first time you’ve met Chelsea?” Gail asked Mallory.

“Yes. She’s quite pretty, isn’t she?” said Mallory, casting a glance at Gail’s face.

“She’s a knockout all right. And she must be reasonably intelligent, considering she’s a programmer at Kruptos.”

Mallory nodded. “I suppose.”

Chelsea finished her Kruptos work in the dining room and drifted into the kitchen, peering over Alton’s shoulder to watch him prepare the coffee. “Thanks again for letting me stay with you all,” she said. “I feel a lot safer being with Alton than I would in my apartment back in Alpharetta.”

“Our pleasure, dear,” replied Gail.

Alton switched on the coffee pot and turned to help with the dishes, only to find Mallory staring in his direction with a distant expression. She diverted her eyes, and her smile was nowhere to be seen. Alton walked to her and wrapped her in a warm embrace.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured.

Her smile returned, and she glanced at Chelsea before returning her gaze to Alton’s silver-blue eyes. “I am, too.”