Her Perfect Life Read online

  Nothing happened the next night, either, and doubt seeped in. Maybe she’d just seen what she’d wanted to see, and the Frenchman hadn’t noticed her at all. Or maybe it was just taking a little longer to get the wheels moving. It had to be taking just a little while longer…

  But a week later, when still nothing had happened, her certainty disappeared. The Frenchman hadn’t noticed her, or if he had, he’d chosen to ignore seeing her or he’d thought nothing of it.

  The most important glimpse of her life—but to him it’d been too insignificant to even notice.

  You’ve got to stop this, Katie. Stop hoping. It’s insane. Nothing is going to happen. Keep hoping, and how are you going to handle the letdown? Hope is a luxury you can’t afford.

  She paced her cell in the darkness, bitterness burning her throat, her chest so tight she could barely breathe. Die hope. She pushed a fisted hand over her heart. Die!

  And whether it did, or it was buried so deep she couldn’t feel it anymore, she put the Frenchman from her mind, locking him behind the shutter to forget him, too, and then returned to stroking her worn photograph in the sweltering heat, missing Sam and the kids, mourning C.D., and scrubbing General Amid’s quarters, longing for her weekly bath and swearing she’d trade her eye teeth for a hamburger, cola, or a bottle of skin lotion. And conditioner for her hair. She squeezed her eyes shut and indulged in heartfelt longing. She’d give a molar for one squirt of conditioner. Just one…

  While she hadn’t dared to hope, she had put herself in General Amid’s presence as often as possible, in case he wanted to send her back to the market. The medical workers still being around was highly unlikely, but it wasn’t impossible.

  Yet whether or not they remained close by quickly became a moot point. The General watched her with an odd look in his eyes, but he never sent her back to the market. Instead, just before she was to return to her cell one night, he stopped her. “Katie,” he said. “I am to be transferred to a new prison soon.”

  Fear sliced through her heart like a knife and she had to fight to find her voice. “Will you take me with you?”

  Regret burned in his eyes. “I am sorry. That is not possible.”

  Disappointment raised terror and tears clogged her throat. She couldn’t speak, and so she nodded. He would leave, and things would return to the way they had been before he had learned what was happening to her. Inside, she chilled to ice, nearly froze with panic. Oh, God. I can’t stand it again. I can’t.

  Shutter, Katie. Shutter. That which is endured…

  “I am sorry,” he whispered. “I have done all I can do to protect you.”

  He had. Here, and maybe in sending her to the market. Maybe he’d meant for her to be seen. On the chance he had, gratitude swelled and her chin quivered. She cleared her throat to hide it. “Thank you.”

  He too had given up hope. She was lost. Lost, hopeless and defeated.

  Knowing it, she walked the dark pathway back to her cell. The defeat had her despairing, but even more than despairing, she was terrified. She had been trained to die with dignity, but she had not been trained to live long-term like this. Not like this…

  * * *

  Long after midnight that night—exactly two weeks after she’d seen the Frenchman in the market—Katie paced her four-foot wide cell until her feet ached and then collapsed onto her cot, exhausted. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t been fed since yesterday, and she hadn’t been able to steal anything from General Amid’s. If he ever noticed food missing, he never mentioned it. But she didn’t flaunt stealing his food in his face, either.

  Holding the photo over her heart, she ignored her rumbling stomach, closed her eyes and shut down her mind.

  For the first night since she’d seen the Frenchman, she didn’t drift to sleep seeing his face in her mind. Every other night, she had alternated between praying he’d think of her and the thought of her would nag at him until he did something to help her, and cursing him for not being more aware, seeing her and doing something to set her free. But this night, she didn’t think of him at all. General Amid, the man whose protection had kept her alive and safe, whose food had kept her from starving to death, was leaving. A new commander would take his place and things would return to what they had been.

  She would be dead within a month.

  If God was merciful, sooner…

  * * *

  A scuffle started outside her cell door.

  Katie awakened abruptly. Every nerve in her body sizzled, hyper-alert and warning her to hide, but she forced herself to stay perfectly still. For her own protection, and until she discovered what was going on, she best served herself by not letting anyone know she was awake.

  “Colonel Katherine Slater?” a man said in a crisp, sharp voice.

  Colonel? She didn’t respond. It could be a setup for torture.

  A second man’s hushed voice carried through the bars to her. “Call her Captain, Dan. She doesn’t realize she’s been promoted.”

  Katie stiffened. As a P.O.W. she would automatically be promoted, but the enemy knew that as well. And Americans considered her dead. Unless the Frenchman… She stifled a gasp. Oh, God! Was it possible?

  “Captain Slater,” the first man said, then recited her code word that only she and her superior officer knew.

  American! He had to be an American! She sat straight up. “Yes? Yes, it’s me.” She strained to see him, but it was a moonless night, and she could barely make out his silhouette. What did this mean? Had they engaged the tribal warlords in the lawless area and been taken prisoner, too?

  “Captain Daniel Wade, ma’am,” he said, his husky voice catching. “We’re here to take you home...”

  Chapter Two

  “You seem irritated, Colonel.”

  Katie turned from the window to look at Dr. Green, the major and chief physician who had been poking and prodding her physically and mentally for three long days. “I’m fine.”

  Thin and lanky, with a long nose and glasses he wore low on his nose, he dragged a hand through his gray hair and let out a sigh he intended for her to notice. “You won’t discuss what happened to you from the time of the crash until you saw the Frenchman in the market. You refuse to answer questions about your treatment while held captive, other than in the most general terms. You won’t respond at all to questions regarding torture or rape.” He leaned forward, clasped his hands on his desktop. “We can help you, Colonel Slater, but only if you allow us to do it.”

  She looked out the window at the hospital parking lot. Cars coming and going, mothers walking, holding the hands of their children. People moving about, living their normal everyday lives. Going where they wanted to go, when they wanted to go. They had no idea how lucky they were. No idea.

  “I said, until you can talk about all those things, we can’t know you’re fine. Let us help you, Colonel. We can and will help you, if you’ll let us.”

  “Yes, you did say that. I heard every word.” She spared him a glance. “But with all due respect, Major, what you do or do not know is of no interest to me. I haven’t asked for your help. I’ve had six years to deal with being a prisoner, and I did deal with it. I’m fine.” She didn’t dare lie, and she couldn’t tell him the truth; she’d never get out of the hospital. But he needed a bone to chew on or he’d never hush much less release her. “My silence is no great mystery. I don’t want to discuss those things because I’ll relive them. Once was more than enough.” A mother pushing a stroller. Her heart leapt, but she schooled the joy from her voice. “The one thing I want to discuss, no one will talk to me about.” She pushed away from the window, walked across the office and then leaned over his desk. “I want to talk to my husband and children.” It galled her to have to ask. But to see Sam and the kids, she’d humble herself. She’d beg or even grovel. “Now. Please.”

  “Colonel, we’ve discussed this. Your debriefing isn’t complete. There are protocols—”

  Disappointment shafted through her like a razor-
sharp spear. Again with their stupid debriefings and protocols. Excuses was more like it, and they’d worn thin. She clamped her jaw. He wouldn’t break her. Frustration had tears choking her, but she would not break. No one would ever break her again. “The military left me behind. Do you truly wonder why I could care less about its debriefings or protocol?”

  “I have no choice.”

  At least that was honest. “I realize you’re just doing your job, so when I say what’s on my mind and in my heart, understand that it isn’t personal. The truth is I could care less about anything of interest to anyone but my family and me, and I am particularly uninterested in any concerns of anyone in uniform. Men in uniform left me for dead. I suffered the consequences while they went on with their lives and kept saying, ‘No man left behind.’ Technically, I guess they were right. I’m not a man. But . . . forget it.” No good could come of that line of discussion. She lifted her chin. “I paid the price and it was steep. Now, it’s my turn.”

  “Those in uniform did leave you behind, but they rescued you, too,” he softly reminded her.

  “After six years.”

  “I’ve explained that.” Dr. Green sighed, leaned forward and gestured with an upturned hand. “You were reported dead and we verified your death through human intelligence contacts on the ground.”

  “Yes, you’ve explained that. But your explanations haven’t changed my consequences. I’ve still lived them.” She nearly had died, had been in a coma four days. Had spent six years in hell. “You know what? Forget those verifications and contacts. Forget all of it. I’m here, standing in front of you. I’m breathing, and my tour of duty expired two years and six days ago. I’m free now. I’m done here, Doctor, and I want to go home.”

  “You will go home, Colonel, in due time.”

  “Due time?” She grunted. “I was detained six years. Isn’t that long enough? Now you are going to detain me, too—just like they did? Only under some guise of doing what’s best for me?” She reined in, swallowed her anger, and forced her tone cool and civil. “No. This is not going to work that way. I won’t trade one prison for another.” She stiffened. “I want to leave.”

  “Katie, we’re conce—“

  She cut in. “I appreciate your concern, but let’s be totally honest. You really don’t want to know how I feel.”

  “Yes, I do.” He folded his hands atop his desk and leaned forward. His watch twinkled in the light streaming in through the slats of the blinds on the window. “I really do.”

  “Okay.” She pulled up courage and tried hard to express herself without becoming even more vulnerable. “I’m angry,” she admitted. “I’m so angry I can barely breathe.” Revealing that much had perspiration gathering on her skin from every pore. She sucked in a sharp breath, fought to keep her voice steady, her resolve strong, and pressed on. “For six years, not one person did a thing to help me in any way. Nothing. Now the entire military all the way up to the Commander-in-Chief is falling all over itself to do everything it can for me. Somebody else might fall for all that talk before the media cameras, but I know the truth. All anyone here really wants is to coerce me into not saying anything anti-military or anti-administration to the press. The honchos want to avoid a public relations nightmare they can’t win. That’s where all the interest in me begins and ends.”

  He looked her right in the eye. “I won’t insult you by denying that.”

  “Thank you for acknowledging that this help isn’t about me at all.” Sarcastic, she pulled her lips back from her teeth in a frozen smile.

  “Colonel, you must be aware of the potential ramifications, the impact on the military—and on all of the others in it. You must see the rationale for—”

  “Stop.” She held up a hand and interrupted. Hadn’t he heard a word she’d said? “I can’t afford to care about the military’s rationale or its nightmares, Major. I have all I can hold with far too many of my own. The sum of my suggestions is, if you don’t want your people to fear being hung out to dry, then don’t hang them out to dry. That’s it. I’m done.” Lifting her hands, she turned for the hallway door.

  “You won’t walk out of this hospital without my permission.”

  The tiny hairs on her neck prickled. “Don’t bet on it.” This was not the desert. There were places to go.

  “Leave and the MPs will just bring you back. Do you really want me to have you restrained? I will if I must, but I promise you, I do not want to do that.”

  Sweat beaded on her forehead, dampened her armpits. Restrained? Looking at him, she had no doubt he’d carry through on the threat. He wouldn’t like it, but he would do it. Regroup. Shift tactics, Katie. Weary of the battle of wills, she frowned, then softened her tone. “I want to go home, Dr. Green. I want to see my husband and children.”

  He slumped back in his chair. “I know you do, Colonel. And you will, just as soon as—”

  “You’re doing it again. You’re patronizing me. Please don’t do that. I’ve earned the right to better. I’ve earned respect, and I will have it, or I won’t utter another word. Not even if you try holding me the rest of my life.” She had a trump card, and it was time to play it. “I’ve been patient and I’ve been forced to live by other people’s rules far too long already. Send me home now, Dr. Green, or tell your superiors I will talk to the press. And if they force me to do that, I promise all of them, they will not like what I have to say.”

  He stiffened. “Do I need to remind you that threatening your superior officers is a crime?”

  She stood up straight. “No, you don’t. I’m well aware of rules and regulations. But for the record, that was not a threat, it was a promise and explicitly stated as such. If they choose to interpret my remark as a threat, fine. Tell them to courts-martial me. Put me in jail. Won’t that make for lovely headlines?” Rage rolled over Katie in waves. “Abandoned P.O.W. rescued and jailed for wanting to see her family.” She glared back at him, keeping her voice calm and steady. “Go ahead. Tell them to do what they have to do, but to do it knowing that I’m going to do what I have to do, too. And you might remind them that I’ve had a lot of time to think about what that will be.”

  “Colonel,” he said, then paused, masked his expression, and took a more personal tact. “Katie, as hard as it might be for you to accept, we do have your best interests in mind as well as the military’s best interests. They are not mutually exclusive. What happened to you could happen to any of us. We’d like to prevent that.”

  He couldn’t be that naïve. Truly, he couldn’t. Well, she once had been, so maybe he could. Time to enlighten him, then. “Here are the facts, major. So long as there are wars and pilots, there will be risks, and everyone involved knows it—or should know it, including you.”

  “True. But we need to know what happened to you. You can help us lessen the odds of a recurrence,” he said. “You can rely on us, Katie.”

  Rely on them? Yeah, right. Why wouldn’t she rely on them? That worked out so well the last six years. Cut the sarcasm, Katie. “Listen, I’m glad you’re trying to figure out what went wrong. Let me save you some time, energy and a boatload of money. It was bad intelligence, pure and simple. If you want advice for those who follow me, here’s the best I can give them: If you’re taken captive, you’re on your own. Understand it. Accept it. Deal with it.”

  “Katie.” His sigh heaved his shoulders.

  “Major, I’m not being flip. I’m being frank. I learned a lot while I was held captive. One of the most important lessons was that I must never rely on anyone else for anything. Never need or want anything.”

  “That isn’t a healthy teamwork attitude.”

  Totally clueless. “It is the healthiest attitude when you’re a prisoner and you are the team.” Grass couldn’t be any greener than this man. “Look, here’s how it works. Not in theory, in reality. If you want or need anything, they use it against you. You survive by not giving them anything to use against you. Because they will use anything.”

 
He paused, his gaze sweeping back and forth across the room. “It’s not in your best interest—”

  She held up a staying hand. “Thank you, but I’ll mind my own best interests, Dr. Green. And I’d appreciate it if the honchos would graciously leave me to it.” They didn’t even know her. How could they possibly know what was or wasn’t in her best interests?

  His frustration oozed out in his tone. This discussion obviously wasn’t going as he planned. “I understand why you feel this way—”

  More platitudes. Oh, she was beyond weary of it. So very beyond weary of it. “Great,” she interrupted, sat down and relaxed in the chair. “If you honestly do understand, then let’s cut to the chase. Just tell me the truth. That’s all I want. Easy enough, right?”

  “Of course.” He seemed baffled. “I haven’t lied to you, Colonel.”

  “Good.” She nodded, then tilted her head. “Glad to hear it, and in the interest of full disclosure, now is no time to start.”

  “We’re on the same side.”

  “That’s . . . convenient then.”

  “Convenient?”

  “Yes. So being on the same side, tell me, Doctor. What are the honchos so afraid of that they have you sequestering me here? It’s clear they fear me. They’ve shoved me from one prison to another. I’m an American citizen, a civilian now, and I deserve to know why.”

  Decidedly uncomfortable, he paused and removed his glasses then set them on his desk blotter. “You lived through extreme difficulties, Katie.”

  “I lived through my worst nightmares of hell and more. It’s over now, so what’s your point?”

  He softened his voice and chose his words carefully. “I don’t need for you to tell me what they did to you, I see it in your eyes. You survived it, and I expect that makes you a very strong woman. I just want to be sure you also successfully survive coming home.”

  His disclosure surprised her. She took in a low, deep breath and slowly expelled it. “What is so bad at home that you fear it’ll drive me over the edge? Because I’ll tell you, Doctor, if I didn’t lose it in the tribal prison, I am not going to lose it. Bluntly put, those sorry excuses for human beings gave me their worst. They’ve gotten all of my life I’m going to give them. For that matter, so has the Air Force. The rest of my life is mine, and I’m going to spend it with my family, doing—I don’t know doing what exactly, but it’ll be what I want to do.” An image often relived of her in the garden with the kids filled her mind. She’d love doing something with her gardening. It’d always brought her solace and peace. “Only things I want to do.” She shrugged. “What in that could the honchos possibly fear?”