Filling up the Virgin(246)

The rest of the team stared at Jack. They were probably as stunned about his identity as I was.

“I just don't want anyone to get hurt,” Jack said.

I didn't even look at him. I couldn't. Not until I calmed down.

Soon we had everything backed into the vehicles and we were on our way. Jack drove at the head of the caravan, his hands keeping a firm grip on the steering wheel. “We'll head straight to the airport,” he said. “I'll call ahead. My jet's been waiting there since it landed, and the crew has instructions to keep it prepped for flight at all times.”

“Your jet,” I said, shaking my head. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. This man, this fool man that I'd let myself fall for, was the infamous head of Tremaine Industries. “Is your name even Jack? Was that a lie too?”

“My given name is Herbert Jacques Tremaine,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road, as well as scanning the horizon for any dangers. “I'm sure you can understand why I prefer 'Jack.'”

“Herbert,” I said, snorting. “Seriously? Herbert?” That was the whitest of rich white boy names I could ever imagine.

He laughed and shook his head. “Named for my grandfather. I never cared for it. Or for him.”

We drove in silence for a time. I had a million questions to ask him, but I couldn't get them all straight in my head. Eventually, when the airport was coming into view ahead of us, I asked the most immediate question on my mind.

“Why did you lie?”

He didn't answer for a long time. We pulled into the airport parking lot. Crew members in the employ of Tremaine Industries came out to meet us and started unloading our excavation gear and the artifacts we had recovered. The rest of the team was already getting on the jet, while Jack and I sat in the car. He finally turned off the engine, rested his hands on the steering wheel, and started to explain.

“I never asked to be rich,” he said. “I was born the heir to the Tremaine fortune, and that's how it was. But when I was a teenager, I started thinking I needed some kind of better focus in my life.”

“So you joined the Navy.”

He nodded. “At first it was a chance to work out my aggression. And man, was I ever an aggressive kid. I got kicked out of two boarding schools for starting fights. The Navy helped me focus that aggression into purpose, and I stopped being so angry all the time.”

He shrugged and turned away, staring out the window. “But when I got done training and started actually doing the job, it turned into something different. I was saving people. Helping keep the country safe. I did more for America than my father and my grandfather ever did with their engineering firms or their overpriced pharmaceuticals.”

The tension started to ease out of my shoulders as I listened to his story. This wasn't the Tremaine I'd imagined. My image of him, of his family name, had been tainted by his father's legacy.

“When I got out,” he said, “it was just after my father died. I had to take over the family business. I almost sold it all, just so I wouldn't have to deal with it. But the companies that made me offers were notorious for doing major takeovers and then 'reorganizing their new assets.' Which is a fancy way of saying they shut down any unprofitable plants and make major layoffs. So I keep things running, and to hell with the shareholders if they complain that profits are down. We keep people employed. And I use my own profits for personal projects.”

“Like preserving little pieces of history,” I said. I reached over and touched his knee.

“Among other things, yeah.” He finally turned to face me. His expression had softened.

“You didn't quite answer my question, though.” I arched an eyebrow. His story had touched me, but I wasn't letting him get off the hook just yet. “Why lie? Why pretend to be someone else?”

“I like to get involved,” he said, shrugging. “I like to help. And since I've got my SEAL training, it makes sense to work as security. I fund a lot of other things besides your expeditions. Scientific and medical research, wildlife preserves, and so on. I go from one to the next, taking on a simple security role, and I can feel useful. Plus it helps me keep an eye on things, make sure the people I pay don't squander their resources or try to do anything illegal.”

“So you were here to spy on us?” I asked, my hackles rising. “Make sure we didn't try to steal any of these artifacts for ourselves?”

“That's only a small part of it.” He looked at me with a somber expression haunting his eyes. “And I wasn't expecting this to happen, between us. I wasn't expecting to fall in lo—”

“No,” I said, cutting him off. “Don't you say that. Don't you dare. Not now.”