“Mr. Tremaine?” I looked up at Jack, confused.
“Put down your weapons and walk away,” Jack said, keeping his weapon trained on the terrorists. “And let those people go.”
I peeked around the pillar and saw the terrorists had two of my team held at gunpoint. They were holding them hostage and using them as human shields to keep Jack at bay.
“It is you who will surrender, Tremaine!” one of the men shouted. “Ours is the just cause, in the name of Allah! The world will see you made an example of, so that they know that rich capitalist pigs cannot violate our lands for their own gain.”
The man shifted his stance and aimed his weapon at Jack, which was his final mistake. As soon as Jack had a clear shot, he took it, dropping the terrorist to the ground. The other man panicked and tried to run, but Jack dropped him with a shot to the head.
It was all over faster than I could have imagined. Jack walked over to me and held out his hand. I took it and he pulled me to my feet. I clung to him, trembling from head to toe.
“It's okay, Camille,” he said, stroking my hair. “It's over. You're safe now.”
I took a few deep, shuddering breaths. Then I leaned back and looked Jack in the eye. “Why did he call you Mr. Tremaine?”
He smirked, holstering his pistol. “I've been meaning to find the right time to tell you.” He held out his arms in a humble stance. “My real name is Jack Tremaine. I'm the one who's been funding your expeditions.”
I stared at him for a long moment, dumbfounded. Then I raised my hand and slapped him as hard as I could across the face.
* * *
I stalked across the excavation site, grabbing whatever equipment I could carry and hauling it off towards our rental trucks. The rest of the team was standing around in a daze, staring at the bodies, at the guns, at the blood on the ground. I couldn't stand around and stare. I had to keep moving.
“Camille,” Jack said, following me to the truck.
“Don't talk to me.” I dumped a load of tools in the back of the truck, then turned back to collect some more. Jack stopped me and grabbed my shaking hands. Part of me wanted him to hold me. Part of me wanted to scream at him.
Instead I just shoved away from him and went over to the folding table where we had all of our maps and documents about the site. I rolled everything up in a clump, not caring if some of the pages got rumpled. Jack stood off to the side, watching me.
“We should go,” Tracy said, pulling herself away from the scene of violence. She smacked William on his arm to get him moving. “Come on, Will. This isn't the place to be hanging around.”
“Should we call someone?” William asked. “The...the police? The government?”
“We're not calling anyone,” Jack said. “If any hostiles know we're in the area, our only option is to evacuate. We've saved enough history for this trip.”
“I'm sure Mr. Tremaine doesn't want to risk bad publicity by having his excavation team captured by terrorists,” I snapped. I shoved the maps and papers into a long black tube, twisted the cap on, and tossed it into one of the trucks.
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.”
“Camille...”
“I need time to think about this.” I got out of the car and stalked away from him. He followed, but kept his distance, respecting my need for space. We boarded the jet, and I made sure to take a seat far away from Jack. I needed to be alone for a while. I needed to sort this out.
I needed to figure out if I could still love this man, when I had just found out I didn't even know who he was.
* * *
I didn't talk to Jack when we got back to the States. He gave me his personal cell phone number and asked me to call him when I was ready. Though for a little while, I was too busy to consider what I might say to him, for which I was grateful.
My entire team had to be debriefed on what had happened, giving full reports to the people at Tremaine Industries. In order to keep us from getting into trouble with the government for removing the artifacts from Syria, we all agreed to sign Non-Disclosure Agreements. The items we'd recovered would be quietly shipped to places where they could be studied and kept safe, and we were all paid substantial bonuses as compensation for the danger we'd faced. The details of our work were quietly swept under a rug, and we were able to get back to our lives.