Royal (Terk’s Guardians #9)

Chapter 2

J anna walked off the plane. As her foot landed on the tarmac, she looked around and announced, “He’s not alone.”

Calum looked at her, at least acknowledging she had spoken.

Up until now, he and Rick hadn’t had a whole lot to do with her. Rick didn’t want her here, and he didn’t trust her, at least not enough, and she knew that. Still, she had no choice but to be here for this op.

“He’s not alone,” she repeated. “I don’t know what other people are with him, as in another prisoner or what the deal is. However, I can tell you that another energy is around him.”

“The gals are trying to pinpoint Royal’s location,” Calum shared. “They were trying to piggyback onto your connection to Royal, so maybe they can find him that way.”

“I hope so,” Janna muttered, chewing on her bottom lip. “Something is off about that other person. Maybe it is another prisoner, one who’s in tough shape, even worse than Royal.”

“And Royal?” Calum asked.

“He’s alive,” she replied. “I’m not too sure beyond that.”

Calum nodded. “We’ll see what we can find out.”

She frowned at Calum and shook her head. “I don’t get it. How the hell will you arrange to get him out of a Russian prison?” she asked bitterly, knowing all the while it was wrong to be so cranky with these men who were willingly putting themselves at risk to help her.

Calum laughed. “The one advantage is they are mostly all corrupt to some degree. Therefore, if you can find somebody who’s crooked as all hell, you can pretty well purchase anything you want in Russia, and that includes freedom.”

“So, if that’s the case, then why didn’t the US government already do just that?” she asked in shock. “If they could have bought Royal’s freedom, why haven’t they?”

“Because the price in this case is bound to be pretty high, probably too high. The alternative is that the Russians haven’t recognized that Royal’s even a prisoner. Another possibility is perhaps the Russians told our government that Royal died, and his body was burned up in an accident or something. They use any number of excuses continuously to drag out negotiations, without any care in the world as to whether it’s the truth or not.”

“Remember that part about my hating governments?” Janna muttered.

“Yeah, I know about that,” Calum replied, “and I get it. I also get that you’ve got a good reason for it. So does our team. However, I’m also here to tell you that a whole lot more than just governments and agencies operate in the shadows.”

“Maybe,” she conceded, “but I can’t say I’ve seen a whole lot of good come from any of that either.”

“Maybe not, but you can’t stay bitter forever. You are killing yourself from the inside.”

At that, she buttoned her lips. It’s not that she was bitter—well, maybe she was—but it wasn’t the dominant feeling. She just wanted nothing to do with anybody. So maybe apathy was what she felt, or indifference . After being burned and disfigured so terribly, she had turned inward, eventually building herself back up from scratch. It was hard to trust after something so horrific. Then, when the authorities had let her attacker spend the rest of their life in a nice and comfortable little mental hospital, while Janna spent her life in uncomfortable surgical hospitals, yet still looking the way she did, it didn’t make her feel any better.

The fact that her attacker was also now deceased just added fuel to the fire somewhat, and that made Janna feel even worse because she still wanted to exact her revenge. She was supposed to be a good person, and yet it was darn hard sometimes to find that goodness when so much bitterness remained inside her still. She felt such bitterness over the acid attack, but then Samuel’s birth had changed things. She cherished him. When Sam was born, she was so thrilled and happy, even appreciating her weekend with Royal to beget such a gift. However, when Sam passed away, it just amplified her pain and the ugliness from the acid attack tenfold.

She had been seeing somebody to help her deal with her facial scars and the aftermath of Sam’s passing, but they had parted ways over not agreeing with a treatment strategy. The woman wanted Janna on medication in order to find her happy place, but Janna had always been totally against medicating herself out of life. That never worked.

At least in her experience it hadn’t, and she wasn’t prepared to sit here and to end up half a person because of the drugs she was on. If she couldn’t trust herself without the drugs, she didn’t want to try to trust herself with them. It made no sense to her that the professional would be so quick to advocate prescription treatment. When she had tried to protest that she wanted to do this with a natural method and actually deal with her problems, the doctor had looked at her with sympathy and then had told her there was no dealing with it, that she was well beyond that point.

That was something else Janna didn’t like, that whole defeatist mind-set. But again, nobody was listening to Janna. She walked out of that session and never went back. Thankfully nobody had the power to force her to go back either. When the office called to set up the next appointment, Janna just told them that she had chosen a different therapist. It was her choice after all, and, from then on, that had been the end of it… thankfully.

Even now she could work herself into quite a temper over her treatment by that therapist, yet it wouldn’t do any good. It never did any good. That was part of the problem that Janna struggled with—the fact that you could do everything right in life, and still… shit happened.

Shit that you didn’t do anything to deserve, but it didn’t matter one bit. It all still happened, and it was still there, and you were left to deal with it, whether you liked it or not. Caught up in her own thoughts and hating the fact that she was once again having that conversation in her mind, she was startled when a tap came on her shoulder. She frowned at Calum, motioning at a car.

She quickly slipped into the back seat of the vehicle. They’d flown into Poland, rented a car, and now would drive from here. She also knew that the car wouldn’t get them very far. But they couldn’t afford to let anybody in Russia know that they were arriving—or that anybody at all was arriving from the US. More shocking was the fact that she was with two guys with former ties to the CIA. That was typically a big no-no in her world, but past ties were one thing. The fact that the CIA had hired Terkel’s team and were funding this operation was even more shocking to her, and it boggled her mind that she was involved. Now they would find a way across the border and pick up wheels on the other side.

As they drove forward, she looked around and noted, “We’re going in the wrong direction.”

Calum nodded. “True, but ultimately we still get across the border. So let’s focus on that, until you can give us a better direction.”

She pondered that and nodded. “That makes sense. I guess we get across the border first and go from there.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he replied cheerfully, and then he studied her for a moment. “The dark hair looks good on you.”

She laughed. “The shorter haircut is what I liked the most. With the bangs and large sunglasses, I can hide some of the disfiguration. It’s too bad we still aren’t wearing masks everywhere. That would have gone a long way to hiding my face too.”

“You worry about how your face looks too much,” Calum said. “However, the reality is, it does make you identifiable, and that’s really the only concern we have amid this op. As far as looks go, it’s not all that bad. Really .”

She frowned at him in surprise.

He shrugged. “ Seriously . You’ve probably seen it as this ravaging scar for so long that you haven’t noticed that it has healed a lot, has calmed down quite a bit, and is quite likely much improved from what it was initially.”

“It doesn’t feel improved,” she argued. “It feels like shit.”

He chuckled. “Again you aren’t really seeing it as it really is.”

“Maybe so,” she conceded. “They did tell me that I was due for another round of surgery, which would fix more of it,” she shared. “But, after losing Sam,… I just don’t have the heart anymore.”

Nobody had anything to say to that, and she knew that every time she brought up the child, it was hard on them too because they were all expecting children, and nobody wanted to think about anything ever happening to their children.

She muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Calum replied. “We live in a world where we understand death very well, and we have healers around us, some who even deal with death in a way we didn’t think was possible. Then suddenly we’re all pregnant and all waiting on our families with hope and joy. Yet we’re very aware that there are no guarantees in life. You have every right to be angry, hurt, and upset.… However, it can’t interfere with the mission we’re doing here because every one of us wants to make it back home again, and that’s a nonnegotiable aspect to this job,” he explained, looking at her in the rearview mirror. “We all want to ensure that we get back home, to be with our families and to be fathers.”

She nodded. “I probably shouldn’t have even contacted you. It would have been easier, and then you would have been safe.”

“We’re safe right now anyway,” Calum declared cheerfully. “You forget that this is the work we do. What I was trying to say and did so badly is that we don’t want to end up in a position where you don’t follow orders, where you don’t do something that you’re told to do, or where you explain something to us and then do the opposite, all because you’re hung up on your own hang-ups,” he stated, “and that ends up getting us all killed.”

“Yeah, I agree with that. We don’t want you going rogue on us,” Rick said stiffly.

“Jesus, why didn’t you just say that to begin with?” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t do that anyway—at least not knowingly.”

“But it’s the unknowing part that’s hard to control,” Calum pointed out, with a nod. “You might not want to do it or have that as a plan, but it’s pretty easy for things to happen unexpectedly to you in the moment.”

“ Great . So, what are you saying then? You pretty much just want me to sit back, shut up, stay out of the way, and do what I’m told?” Calum burst out laughing, and that made her grin too. “Your laughter is very infectious,” she noted. “Thank you for that.”

He shook his head. “My laughter is just laughter. It’s not the domineering force in my world, and it’s definitely not a part of Rick’s, in case you haven’t noticed. Yet, when you have a sense of humor, it really helps to keep things in perspective. Plus, you’re pretty much right-on. That’s exactly what we want from you. Thus, when you get intel from your energy readings or whatever and know where we should be going, then you tell us—and tell us as soon as possible—so we have time to get where we need to be.”

“All I can tell you right now is that we’re ultimately going the wrong way. I’ve got threads going in the completely opposite direction.”

“Good to know. Meanwhile we’ll change vehicles, and we’ll cross the border in the dark. Hopefully tonight.”

She didn’t say anything to that but sat back, as they pulled up to a small farmhouse, and it appeared to be completely empty. As Janna got out, she looked around, but Calum placed a finger against his lips and hustled her inside. Once inside, she noted the place was vacant. Maybe squatting in an empty house was part of the plan. She didn’t know. The guys seemed to be completely unconcerned.

As she went to open her mouth, Calum tapped his lips again, and she realized this would be a silence only deal. At least until they checked it out.

He pulled out some small hand-held tool and quickly walked through the place. When he came back, he looked at her and smiled. “No bugs, so it’s safe to talk.”

She opened her jaw as if to say something, then snapped it shut. “I never thought of that.”

“No, and you don’t have to. You don’t have to worry about those things because we do.”

She just nodded.

“The best thing you can do now is get some sleep. We have some rough provisions, sandwiches for tonight, but, if you can crash first, then at least you’ll get the maximum amount of sleep because we’ll be on foot tomorrow.”

“Right,” she replied. “So, we’re crossing the border in the dark?”

“We are. At a couple places around here, we can get across pretty easily.”

She nodded, then walked into the room where her backpack was. Pulling out her jacket, she lay down and curled up with it over her shoulders, though it was hard to fall asleep because of what she’d just been told. She had a chance to sleep, but availing herself of the opportunity was so not her thing. Closing off her mind and shutting things down was a whole different story, but, hey, if she could do this, she was all for it. And she didn’t dare complain about the food or the lack of warmth, about nothing. She was heading for Royal, and that’s all she cared about.

The fact that she even cared revealed a lot about where her heart was at. She sent out messages to him, telling him to stay close, to take it easy, that she was coming and bringing help. And, with that thought uppermost in her mind, she slowly sank into a deep sleep.

*

Royal woke up feeling confused and weary, and he could swear some other energy was in this room. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but it fascinated him. It was as if lights were dancing around the cold cell. When the door opened suddenly, he looked up from where he sat on his bed to see his jailer walk in with a tray of food of some kind, but he knew it would be the same crap as always.

He didn’t say a word. The jailer walked over to Bruce and placed one finger against his throat to check if he was alive, then shrugged and turned, as he walked out without saying a word.

Once he was gone, again Royal waited for a few minutes to ensure the jailer wasn’t standing on the other side listening in. Then he got up and walked over to Bruce. “You awake?”

“No,” he muttered. “Not if I’m in the same damn place again.”

“You are, but there’s food.”

Bruce opened his eyes and looked at him. “Please tell me it’s a T-bone steak with a baked potato and a whole pile of hot veggies. Maybe some garlic bread.”

Royal grinned. “Glad you have a sense of humor still, but, nope, it’s the same old gruel.”

At that, Bruce slammed his eyes closed. “I guess I really have to though, don’t I? That way we are strong enough to walk to the firing squad and all.”

“Hey, stay the course,” Royal muttered. “I think you’re starting to look a little better.”

At that, Bruce frowned at him, and then, with wonder in his tone, while looking confused as hell, he said, “I think I feel a little better, but how is that a good thing? Now I’m more aware of all this, all so I get shot next week?” He shook his head. “God, this is such a freaking nightmare. I just want it to be over with.”

“You and me both, but I don’t want it over by us dying,” Royal stated, “and that appears to be the way you’re thinking.”

“No, I’m not thinking, and that’s the problem. I’ve been in here so damn long that there is no room for thought anymore. I’m just slammed up tight between a rock and a hard place, but I do appreciate the fact that you’re here,” he shared, looking over at Royal. “I really do.” Then he sat up, frowning. “You know what? I am feeling better.” Bruce looked around the room. “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know,” Royal admitted cautiously. “You are looking okay though.”

“And yet I could swear I was in a coma before, and the days were just running in this endless loop.”

“I can agree with that,” Royal noted. He wasn’t at all sure what was happening, but it was almost as if somebody had found him and was sending energy or doing something to help, for both him and Bruce. Royal just didn’t know how the hell such a thing was even possible. Yet Bruce appeared to be getting stronger by the minute.

When they finished eating the gruel, both of them just shoveling it down, knowing they needed the sustenance, Bruce looked back at him and yawned. “I think I’ll crash again.”

“You do that,” Royal said. “And, when you wake up next time, you should be even stronger.”

“Stronger for what though? Strong enough so I can walk out there on my own power and take a bullet?” he muttered. “God help us.” With that depressing comment, Bruce crashed again, dropping off to sleep so fast it was eerie, as Royal watched it happen.

Royal looked around the room, not at all sure what was going on, but, when he saw the light dancing about again, he muttered, “I don’t know who you are, but thank you for helping Bruce,” he whispered.

The light pulsed, as if suddenly aware, and it zoomed to his side, zapping into him with a force that surprised him, but he let it, as a tingling sensation ran along his arms and moved throughout his body. It was pumping him up and making him feel way better. He didn’t have a clue how or why, but he was grateful nonetheless.