Chapter 17 - The Longest Night

The attempted interception failed. The medical team and its security detail followed their contingency plan, and Marcus remained in protected care. There were no details Price could give me, and no details I could use.

I sat awake beneath a hospital window while a late storm tapped the glass. My baby kicked whenever I shifted. I put Marcus's card beside me and tried to remember the sound of ordinary mornings: coffee grinder, squeaky cabinet, his awful singing.

Ortiz appeared at 2:13 a.m. with crackers. "You can't order your heartbeat to calm down," she said. "But you can stop feeding it bad coffee."

"That's the closest thing to tenderness anyone's shown me this week."

"We have a low bar to clear."

I told her about the kitchen dance. She told me about a patient who had spent twenty years waiting to apologize to his daughter and finally did. "He thought the words would be perfect," she said. "They weren't. They were just true."

The next morning I recorded a message for Marcus. Not a soldier's briefing. Not a coded note.

"Hi, love. It's Claire. Your son or daughter has decided sleep is optional. Your mother-in-law is still impossible. We have a house to clean and a crib to finish. I haven't turned off the porch light. You can take your time. Just keep coming."

I didn't mention the garage. I wanted him to have one moment of peace before learning what my family had done. Then I changed my mind and added: "I stood up for us. I think you'd be proud."

At noon the overseas team confirmed they had received my recording. Marcus was resting. A nurse said he'd smiled when he heard it.

Near sunset, Price knocked on the door. "We have a medical evacuation flight approved. He'll return to the States once the doctors clear boarding."

My hands trembled. "And you know it's him?"

"Yes, Claire. We know."

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Then he gave me an envelope that had been recovered from Marcus's belongings. The front read: FOR CLAIRE, IF I DON'T MAKE IT.