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“I’m getting there,” he said, holding back the meat and giving just enough of an appetizer to satisfy the man across the desk from him. The baseline of the texts and why he ghosted. Not saying where to or letting him know Sydney had been left behind. He watched as the man’s face shifted from red, to white and part of him wondered if it would eventually go blue. “I had to get my daughter to safety.”
“Jesus man, and you came back?” The man who’d led him in more than training over the years shook his head. “I might have crossed the Southern bordered until I hit Antarctica.”
“No good,” Mike said. “We share sovereignty there, they could have extradited me.”
While the thought of getting lost in the Andes or taking a slow boat with Sydney to some distant shore had teased him until he met Turbo and couldn’t calculate fast enough how to combine the two. He hated leaving them the night before. Heart shattering as he stepped away and yet as much as she had shown him there was the little bit of him getting lost in the idea of her with others. It wasn’t the type of thing you talked about with Hack since Cream was sitting there. He thought about Topaz and Free, since Turbo had explained they were like her. Dancers, Hoez, still dancing, but now Ol’ Ladies and their men had no issue. Maybe she was exaggerating or, more likely, they were better men then he was.
Thinking back, if he’d met Turbo a month ago, before this all played out would he have had an issue with her status? Sadly his mind was too muddled to come up with a coherent answer. No didn’t sit right, but neither did yes. He’d changed. Shock, trauma all of it like the needle on a record being scratched across the surface and forever changing the song.
“Commander, I will do what I have to do to keep Sydney safe.”
“At this point I’ve been told you’re wanted on kidnapping charges and are a person of interest in a murder.”
“Custodial interference,” he corrected the words drilled into him by Cream. “I share joint custody and it was my time until about eight last night.”
“And the other part?”
“As far as I know I’ve only taken life under the auspices of the federal government’s command.”
“In other words,” Anderson said, holding back a smirk as he leaned forward on his desk. “You’ve got a lawyer on standby for when you step off base.”
“Got five stars on my strategic planning diorama in BUD/S,” he joked with a wink as Anderson shook his head. “Used action figures and everything.”
“I bet your mom bought you the good poster board,” he laughed back and Mike had to hold back because they may be using sarcasm and humor, but both knew it was a mask for a fate neither wanted him to experience.
Pulling the retirement paperwork from his backpack he slid it across the desk and over to Anderson. “I know it’s a long shot thanks to military efficiency and my current situation, but my daughter’s on my insurance, both medical and life. If there’s any chance…”
“I’ll do what I can,” he said as he stood and came around the desk. “But there is no way in hell I’m letting you walk out of here alone.”
Even with a jeep and a golf cart sitting out front the two men walked in tandem through the base. A direct route, no detours and no short cuts. Each step weighing on Mike’s shoulders even with his commander flanking him. Outside the gates two squad cars sat with lights flashing, but no siren and Anderson clasped his shoulder.
“You’re one of the best I’ve ever served with, Hanover,” he said. “The only failure I can see comes from not hiding the body.”
“Never said I killed him,” Mike said, swallowing in hopes of finding moisture only to come up dry.
“Yeah, but I know the man you are and I’d think less of you if you hadn’t,” he stated the words plainly.
Mike closed his eyes pulling in the support and mentorship that had been the world to him for so long. Knowing that hadn’t been lost gave him a strength of self as he walked to the guard shack with his hands held up.
“How long before I can make my one phone call?” he asked.
“We’re here to escort you to Alameda County, they’ll be able to help you there.” The California Highway Patrol cop said as he cuffed Mike and patted him down. Gathering all his belongings and tucking them away even though he didn’t have more than his backpack and phone with him.
“My attorney is here, I need to let her know to meet me there,” he said, doing his best to plead with the guy before he put him in the squad car. “One call and she can catch a flight.”
“You have the right to remain silent,” the cop said.
“The next right is to an attorney,” he pointed out, nerves bubbling thinking about how long he’d be locked up before Cream could make her way north to San Francisco as anxiety ticked through his body from the icy steel around his wrists.
“How about this,” he offered and turned Mike around. “You tell me where the little girl is and I’ll let you make a phone call.”
“Anderson, let Creek know I’m going to Frisco,” he called out over his shoulder and got a nod from Anderson.
“You want to tell me what that means?”
“No.” Anderson’s unyielding tone gave no grace as the cop covered Mike’s head as he stuffed him in the back of the squad car.
* * *
