Reclaiming His Wife

“Let me take care of that,” I mutter back.

“And he’s marrying Jules?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, gripping the phone so hard I feel like it might snap.

“No, he’s not,” I seethe. “Not while I’m still breathing. And that’s where he went wrong.”

My jaw clenches, eyes blazing.

“He left me breathing.”

* * *

Less than twelve hours later, it’s all in place. I drive the truck out to Samir’s village, and when he sees me, the guy can’t stop hugging me. And sure enough, the whole damn pile of gold is in a hidden storage room under his house.

I tell him half of it is his.

He objects, like I knew he would, but I insist on it. I’ve done the math over the last five years: there’s nine hundred and forty million dollars worth of gold here. More than I could spend in a lifetime. More than Carlos and I could both spend. Samir keeps telling me no, but I slowly wear him down. Eventually, I make him see that his cut could be for the whole damn village. They could send every kid there to whatever school in the world they want to. Hell, the whole damn village could move wherever they want to, out of an active war zone.

And when I put it like that, Samir finally agrees.

I break bread with him and his family, including the two sons I yanked out the way of that blast years before, and then I’m gone. And a few hours later, I’m loading a truck full of four-hundred-and-seventy million dollars worth of gold onto a cargo plane.

And then, with the plan in place?

Then it’s time to go home.

Then it’s time to reclaim my wife.

* * *

Present:

Juliana’s asleep, her eyes closed so sweetly and her lips parted so gently. It’s quiet up here at the lake, and I lay next to her in the stillness, stroking her cheek lightly.

Now, it’s time for the rest—time for the last part of my plan to fall into place.

It might look like I just rolled into a church, stole the bride, ran off with her, and played it by ear from there. But that ain’t it. Well, okay, that’s half correct, I guess. I did barge right in and take her, but she was mine to take anyways. But the other part? Nah, I’m not winging it. I have a plan, and it’s happening now.

I slip my jeans on and step out of the cabin, dialing the number on my cell as I pad down to the calm shore of the lake.

“This is Dagton.”

It’s go time.

“Agent Dagton? This is Russell Kane. We spoke last week?”

“Major Kane! I assume you’re back home now?”

I nod. “I am.”

“Major, I can’t even imagine what your family thinks about all of this, you coming back after so long.”

I grin as I glance back at the cabin.

“Look, Agent Dagton, I’m ready to hand over what I have if you’re ready to move on who we spoke about.”

I can almost hear him grin through the phone.

“Russell, you prove you’ve got what you say you’ve got, and he’ll be in chains in ten goddamn minutes.”

I grin widely.

“Will a text work?”

“It as explosive as you said?”

I nod, my jaw tight. “Hell yes, it is.”

See, Darren fucked up, hard. Beyond leaving me alive, he made a devil’s deal with the world’s sloppiest, carless terrorists. The guys who held me weren’t just living in huts at the base of a mountain. They had an internet connection, cameras… the works. Remember those home movies of theirs I starred in?

Well, they made more than just ones of me with a sword at my neck.

They made ones of meetings—like, for instance, the ones they had with Darren. The ones where he just blabs it all out. The attack on our squad base. Telling them about our security. All of it. And shit like that gets the CIA wet.

I made a side trip back to that goddamn prison when I went to get the gold from Samir. And I got every damn bit of that evidence. I keep Agent Dagton on the line as I text him a screen shot of Darren sitting down at a meeting table with guys who are obviously Taliban. They’ve got a map open of our Marine base on the table in front of them, and Darren is shoving some cash their way, a grin on his face.

I give it a second, and then bring the phone back to my face.

“That come through?”

Agent Dagton clears his throat. “Mr. Kane, you’ve done your country a great service.”

I grin.

“I’ll get everything I have over to you guys tomorrow.”

“I appreciate it, Marine. Listen, if there’s anything else we can do, don’t even hesitate to—”

“Actually, there is something.”

“I’m all ears.”

I glance back at the cabin, imagining my Juliana sleeping inside, and I grin.

“There’s a cargo plane waiting at the Ridgewood Contracting air base outside Kandahar.”