Pamela Clare - Striking Distance

Laura looked up at him. “I can’t believe the navy sent you by yourself.”

Javier cleared his throat. “They didn’t send me, bella. When I went to Coronado, it was to resign from NSW. I was given an honorable discharge from the Teams and set this up on my own.”

“Oh, my God, Javi.” Laura gaped at him. “You gave up the Teams?”

In the end, it hadn’t been a hard decision.

“I couldn’t let them keep her from you any longer.” Javier knew Laura’s mind must be reeling from all of this.

Her blond brows came together in a look of worry. “Did Klara cry when you took her away? She must have been terrified.”

“I sedated her.”

Laura blinked. “You . . . You drugged her?”

“I got a dose of sedatives from a pediatrician before I left the U.S. She slept in my arms the entire trip.” He’d watched her sleep, tiny eyelashes on her cheeks, one little hand tucked beneath her chin, and had fallen hard for the sweet little thing.

Like mother, like daughter. They both steal your heart, cabrón.

“Can I see her? I want to see her.”

Javier was surprised she’d held out this long.

Erik seemed to relax, anger fading from his face. He smiled. “Yes, of course. She’s upstairs having breakfast with my wife and the girls. I’m sorry to go on like this. I wanted you to understand the gravity of the situation.”

She took Erik’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, Erik, for all you’ve done.”

Erik led the way up the stairs toward a kitchen, the sound of little girls’ voices and a woman’s echoing down the hall.

Javier held Laura’s hand, an unreadable expression on her pretty face. He couldn’t imagine what she was feeling. The whole thing was more than a little overwhelming for him, and Klara wasn’t his daughter.

Though he hoped maybe one day she would be.

He watched Laura’s face as they entered the kitchen. Her gaze fell on Klara and went soft, tears shimmering in her eyes, a tremulous smile curving her lips.

Klara sat on a booster chair, her dark brown hair in neat pigtails, a look of distress on her tiny face, little tears on her cheeks.

Heidi, Erik’s wife, hurried over to Laura and hugged her, speaking in English for Javier’s benefit. “It’s so good to meet you at last, Laura. Klara is such a darling, such a sweet little girl, but she won’t eat. She won’t touch anything but her bottle.”

Then Klara looked over at Laura, mother and child making eye contact for the first time. And Javier’s vision went strangely blurry.

LAURA LOOKED AT the daughter she’d never seen, taking in the sight of her from her long brown hair to her bright blue eyes to her sweet face, her features so like Laura’s that they reminded Laura of baby pictures she’d seen of herself. She felt a visceral need to hold Klara, her throat suddenly so tight she couldn’t speak. And although Laura didn’t know much about babies or children, she knew that Klara was desperately unhappy.

She looked up at Laura, tears on her cheeks, her lower lip sticking out, a bottle sitting on the table before her.

Laura went to her at once, kneeling down beside her and speaking in Arabic. “Are you hungry, sweet one?”

Klara clearly understood her, her gaze now fixed on Laura.

Laura looked at the food on the table. Hard-boiled eggs. Cod roe. Cucumber. Knäckebröd. Corn flakes. “Heidi, do you have any French bread, maybe some yogurt or jam or a banana? I don’t think she recognizes any of this as food.”

“Of course.” Heidi bustled around the kitchen, then set a half-eaten loaf of French bread on the table with a jar of strawberry jam and a ripe banana, her four-year-old twins Stella and Anette watching with wide eyes, their red hair in little braids.

“She hasn’t eaten food like this before,” Laura explained to the girls in Swedish.

She sat in a chair beside Klara, tore a small piece of bread off the loaf, and put a dab of strawberry jam on it, then held it out for Klara.

Klara took it, stuck it in her tiny mouth, and reached for another.

“More,” she said in Arabic, her tiny voice like bells.

It was the first word Laura had heard her speak.

“You want more?” Laura tore another piece off, dabbed it with jam, and held it out for her, unable to keep herself from smiling. “You’re such a sweet girl.”

“Mama?” Klara glanced around, fear in her eyes, her little lip quavering again.

Laura knew she was looking for Safiya.

She couldn’t imagine what Klara was feeling—being taken from the only world she knew, falling asleep, and waking up in a scary new place surrounded by strangers, everyone speaking a language that made no sense. Though it was good for Klara that she was no longer living in a hive of terrorists, Laura would have done anything to make this easier on her, to minimize the disruption in her life.

She stroked her little girl’s cheek. “You’re going to have a new mama, and a new name, a new home. I know it won’t be easy at first, but you’re safe now, Klara.”

Laura tore several more small pieces of bread off the loaf and set them on the plate in front of her daughter, then did the same with the banana, watching in absolute fascination as Klara picked them up with her chubby little hand and put them in her mouth one by one. It stunned Laura to think this little person had come from inside her. Klara was so sweet, so perfect, so completely innocent.

Laura looked over at Javier, tears of happiness spilling down her cheeks. “Isn’t she beautiful, Javi? Isn’t she beautiful?”

He smiled, his voice strained when he answered. “Just like her mother.”

LAURA CALLED HER mother and grandmother to share the news. Erik sent a car to pick them up, and Laura felt like she was lost in a dream as she watched her mother and grandmother meet and hold Klara for the first time.

“She reminds me so much of you, except for the color of her hair, of course,” her mother said. “Oh, she’s adorable, Laura!”

While Javier faced the consequences of his actions alone, answering questions in Erik’s office, the three of them spent the morning with Klara, holding her when she seemed to want to be held, guiding her as she shyly explored her new surroundings, watching as the twins found ways to draw her into a kind of play that needed no language, doting on her like big sisters. When Stella gave Klara a kiss with a stuffed puppy, Klara laughed, the sound magical to Laura’s ears.

“Mommy, I made her laugh!” Stella beamed.

As the girls played, Heidi and Laura’s mother got into a conversation about raising daughters—and about the challenges Laura would face.

“We don’t know if she’s gotten any of her vaccines,” Heidi said. “We don’t know what illnesses she’s had. We don’t know if they’d started potty-training her at all. But it will all sort itself out in the end.”

“How did Javier do this?” Laura’s mother finally asked.

Laura shared what Javier had told her. “I still can’t believe it. He gave up his career with the Teams for this.”

“He loves you,” her mother said. “Love makes us strong.”

“I sure hope they don’t plan on doing what he did and coming after her,” Heidi said. “One reason Erik is keeping this so quiet is to prevent Al-Nassar’s people from knowing where Klara is. We always have security because of his position with the government, but I wonder if he should increase it.”

The thought of Al-Nassar’s family trying to take Klara from her again made Laura’s stomach knot.

“It will be much harder to keep her out of the public eye in the States,” her mother told Heidi. “The American press has followed Laura like jackals since her rescue.”

Heidi turned to Laura. “How are you going to avoid the media?”

Laura hadn’t figured any of that out yet. “This was all so sudden. I haven’t had time to think about it.”

Her mother rubbed a hand on her back and gave a laugh. “You’d better start thinking about it soon, älskling.”

And Laura realized there were a lot of things she needed to consider.

JAVIER MET WITH one government official after the next—some military, some civilian. He couldn’t keep their names or titles straight. It was his second day of interrogation—very polite interrogation. They spoke with Erik in Swedish, then looked sternly at him and asked questions in English.

And Javier answered.

No, this operation was not approved by the U.S. No, it hadn’t been authorized by the navy or NSW either. Yes, it was true that Javier had left the SEALs. Yes, he’d gone to Pakistan alone. No, he hadn’t killed anyone. No, he couldn’t tell them how he’d gotten in and out of Pakistan or how he’d known where to find Klara.

No one asked him why he’d done it. They all understood the brutality and injustice of what had been done to Laura. They knew it was better for Klara to grow up with her mother and not among terrorists. So, although they threatened Javier with arrest and incarceration more than once, it became clear to him that they were going to let him go—but not without a few stern lectures.

They finally finished with him around lunchtime. Javier made his way upstairs, where he met Birgitta, Laura’s mother, and Inga, her grandmother, in person.

Birgitta shook his hand, hugged him, kissed his cheek. “I could never find the words to thank you for all you’ve done for my daughter. You love her, I know, and she loves you. I’m so happy for both of you.”

Inga smiled. “You are very handsome man—very brave, too, I think.”