Jacob(38)

Tori giggled and nodded her head. “Yep, a key attached to a weighted crystal and silver fob. My husband’s ex-girlfriend decided she wasn’t happy when I asked her to give it back.”

Doctor Carter’s face went slack as she stared at Tori. “Excuse me?”

“It’s a long story. I’m newly married. My husband is working overseas, old girlfriend shows up, lets herself into my house. So I asked her to leave. She didn’t like the idea. At all. I think the silver charm attached to the heavy crystal fob was what did the damage. The key itself would’ve been too dull, the cut’s wider, more ragged.”

Shaking her head in disbelief the doctor sighed. “What are you, a detective?”

Tori shook her head. “Former federal experience. I currently work for Guardian Security.”

“And the girlfriend decided to make you an enemy? Well, alright then. Just when I think I’ve heard it all.” Walking to the sink she lathered and scrubbed her hands. “Please take off your shirt and bra. There is a sheet you can cover yourself with. I need to clean the area and see if you need any stitches.”

Tori complied and wrapped the sheet around her exposing the cut.

“Go ahead and lay back.” Tori lay back and watched as the doctor thoroughly examined the cut. A frown appeared on the woman’s face.

“I didn’t think it was that deep. I shouldn’t need stitches should it?” Tori craned her neck to watch the doctor.

Doctor Carter glanced at Tori and flashed a smile. “No. You don’t need stitches. Two or three butterfly bandages and some antibiotic cream will fix you right up. I am, however, concerned about the lump I palpated when I was examining your cut.”

Muscles clenched tightly, her breath caught and her stomach dropped as ice cold fear wrapped around her. “A lump? In my breast?”

The doctor nodded. “Give me your hand.” Tori’s hand shook violently as she lifted it. The doctor placed her finger on the spot and Tori pushed down. A tear trickled down her cheek and ran into her ear. A hard, small, round lump.

“This wasn’t there last month. I always do self-exams. What does this mean?” Her voice sounded calm, yet her mind was overwhelming her with fear.

“It is probably a small hematoma from the force of the injury. The trauma could have easily caused a subdural bleed. Of course, it could be a fatty tumor or even a calcium deposit, but it doesn’t have a thick or hard density that would lead me to believe the later. I think we need to be safe and run a few tests. I want you to watch it and if it doesn’t diminish or color as a bruise, call immediately and we’ll do a mammogram and if it’s a concern—a biopsy. As a precaution, I want to do a full blood work-up and a urinalysis. We can get those done tonight and processed over the weekend.”





Chapter Twenty-Four


Monday morning’s satellite run and the weekend’s information provided no reliable intelligence. There was something in two of the terrain views, but until the satellite passed again, Tori couldn’t be sure. Knowing she was grasping for anything that could lead her to Jacob she evaluated the pictures. The rocks formed an obscenely large J. Her heart leapt at the possibility, yet the next satellite pass-over of the same location…the rocks could’ve been aligned to make a T, but the shadow of the sun prevented any confirmation. Would Jacob actually use the satellite feed to communicate? To hope for such a miracle would be setting her and everyone else up for major disappointment. The photos were not enough to go on. Not yet. So she waited, and did nothing.

Tori felt guilty for not going down the hall to see if Jewel needed any help, but she couldn’t find didn’t have the energy to face those problems too. The weight of her life consumed her. Jacob and the rest of the men seemed to have vanished without a trace. All Guardian’s vaunted intelligence gathering resources had produced nothing. Guardian’s inability to find how the original mission data was compromised, or if it actually had been compromised, was a problem of epic proportions. Add on Drake and Dixon and Jason? Well, it was too much. Oh yeah, let’s not forget Jacob’s ex or the lump in her breast. God knew her stress meter was pegged.

Tori shrugged her shoulders and tried to relax. Relax? Everything stacked on top of her pressed down until she couldn’t breathe. The twisting of fate took the love and joy she had enjoyed briefly and turned it into the hell she lived in now. Relax? Yeah…no.

The past weekend was a blur. Tori had remained in a stupor for the majority of the day Saturday and didn’t even get dressed on Sunday. Her father had called to let her know he and the twins had arrived home safely. Other than that, she had not spoken to a soul. Nightmares prevented her from sleeping and daily nausea from the inordinate amount of stress had taken its toll. Her clothes were hanging on her—not that she cared.

The shrill of the phone finally dented her mental vacuum. Tori picked it up, realizing it might have been ringing for some time.

“Mrs. King?” The woman on the other end of the line sounded familiar, but Tori could not place the voice or the number on the caller ID.

“Yes.”

“This is Doctor Carter. I was wondering if you could meet with me? I’ve some results that I need to go over with you, and I’d like to schedule some follow-up appointments.” The doctor’s professional voice was pleasant, but that didn’t help the fear that punched her gut. The lump.

Tori swallowed to moisten a throat suddenly gone dry. “Is there something wrong? I thought you just needed me to watch the lump. It has a bruise developing around it.”

“That’s good. No, no…we need to discuss something else entirely. Mrs. King, I’m not calling to cause you any more concern, but I do need you to come down to the hospital to give you the results of your tests. I had a cancellation this afternoon. Could you be here at three?”

Victoria looked at the satellite schedule. They wouldn’t be over the area of interest until four and the intel wouldn’t be available for analysis until after five. “Yes, yes, I can make it.”

Now she sat in the physician’s waiting room with the same thirty-minute news run droning in the corner TV. Her eyes slipped closed in exhaustion. A voice broke through the background of the television newscast. “Mrs. King? Doctor Carter will see you now.”

The rotund Dr. Carter sat behind a white metal desk in an office that looked like a tornado had blown through it. Stacks of paper, books, medical magazines and endless medical samples fell from the tops of the countless paper towers surrounding the chair the doctor sat in. Peering over her huge 1980’s style computer monitor the older woman smiled happily at Victoria and waved towards a chair beside the desk.

“Oh, Mrs. King! Thank you so much for coming in. I needed to talk to you about your blood tests. Now where is that chart?” The woman shifted several stacks of paper and mumbled to herself.

Victoria balanced on the edge of the chair clutching the straps of her purse so tight her fingernails dug painfully into her palms. The doctor pulled a metal file out of a stack beside her and flipped the chart open. Adjusting her glasses on her nose, she thumped her pen on the desk reading the results silently. After several minutes, she cleared her throat and looked over the chart as she spoke to Tori. “When we ran the blood panels your quantitative human chorionic gonadotropin or HCG test came back with unusually high levels. Exceptionally high. Quiet a significant indicator especially with the information you gave in your medical history. However, I double checked the results against your urinalysis and the test results were confirmed.”

Victoria sat motionlessly. Panic wrapped her with staggering force. Her heart rate accelerated abruptly. She had cancer, was going to die, or had some incurable disease. Air failed to fill her lungs. Impossible! No escape! Trapped! Oh God, not an anxiety attack now, please! Get out! Hide! Her gut seized tightly. Blood rushed through her ears in a deafening roar. Black edges slid into her field of vision. The doctor funneled into a pinpoint. She heard, “…measures the specific level of HCG in the blood. HCG is a hormone produced during pregnancy. Congratula…”





Chapter Twenty-Five


Fifty-six days in country. Fifty-four of them had been focused on getting his men healthy enough to move. Chief could make it. His injuries didn’t prevent the exit strategy. But movement wasn’t an option. Doc’s trauma was too damn extensive. Jacob’s eyes searched the rock and shrub covered terrain. Where he lay in the darkness, the craggy, mountainous path provided him cover but blurred and partially obstructed his field of vision. The sounds of the night played soft and gentle, the serene sounds at odds with their dire circumstances. Doc moaned behind him. He was getting worse. He would die if they didn’t get out of this God-forsaken land. All of them were in poor shape. Five men living off the emergency rations intended for one had left them weakened. The damned patrols that scoured the area hunted with a tenaciousness that was eerily unsettling. Jacob knew his enemy. This search was not orchestrated by the local militia. ISIS was funding and directing this search and destroy effort.

A small sound, a rock shifting, brought his attention back to the terrain. Chief low-crawled next to him and focused on the landscape.