Page 23 of Tango

“Whiskey sour, please,” I said from habit. “I mean, make that a beer. IPA if you have it.”

“Of course.” She hurried off, and I leaned back in the soft leather seat. I figured Frank would bring me home via coach or in the belly of a cargo plane, but to my utter discomfort, I was going home on a private jet. I felt self-conscious and nervous that whoever picked me up would think I wasn’t the same old Paul if I arrived in this fancy machine.

Dr. Roberts sat across from me, nose in a book, but a few times I caught his eyes go to the window. He didn’t say much, but in fairness, neither did I. There were so many unanswered questions still between us, and I knew they needed to be addressed. I figured he must have decided to wait until we were with the others so I wouldn’t have to tell everything twice. At least I hoped that was the case.

When the flight attendant returned with my beer, I nearly drank the entire thing in one swallow.

“Another?” She smiled.

“No, thank you.” I handed her back the glass and let the alcohol tame a little of my anxiety. I looked at Doc. “I don’t drink like that normally. Must be nerves.”

“And here I was thinking I’d be ordering a double scotch on the rocks.” He chuckled. “Please don’t take my silence as judgement, Paul. I’m merely processing what’s to come.”

“I think that’s become my new insecurity,” I confessed.

“I don’t blame you. I find myself questioning why Frank didn’t warn me about who I was sent to bring home. Perhaps he wanted you to have a little practice run of what you might expect,” he sat back, “because they’ll all be thrown by your sudden, ah, resurrection. It took them time to accept and deal with your death. It’s a lot to understand and process. Humans are surprisingly good at adapting, and things will all be okay, but in time. Everything takes time.” He smiled encouragement.

“I know that, and I totally get it.” I nodded. “And I can imagine this isn’t a good time what with Lexi and—” I stumbled over her name and swallowed back my own emotion, and he studied my face and nodded.

“I think it just might be a good time.” He looked thoughtful. “They’re mourning Lexi, yes, and they’ll be thrown to see who brought her home, but I think it just might be a good time.”

“Right.” I knew I sounded doubtful and turned to look out the window just as the wheels touched down. We taxied to a private hanger, and I craned my neck and saw the two SUVs open their doors. My heart nearly plummeted.

My brothers.

“Let them have a moment with Lexi, then when you’re ready, come out.” Doc undid his seatbelt and paused. “Remember, shock, anger, disbelief, acceptance, but most of all, time. Remember you’re the one who brought her back to them.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

The door opened, and he walked down the stairs. I watched the dark wood coffin as it was removed from the plane’s belly. I knew it was just a temporary thing. She’d already been cremated and was resting in an urn inside. Frank thought the first glance should be of a coffin, something about how the brain processes things.

A huge lump formed in my throat as Cole walked with Keith toward the coffin. He put an arm around him as my brother broke. A few moments later, Cole stepped back, and I could see him gather himself while the others came forward to touch the coffin and give their support to Keith. Each muttered something as they stood there. I didn’t lip read out of respect.

The doc looked toward my window and I knew it was time. How I willed my feet to move was beyond my understanding, but it was now or never.

I fixed my ball cap as I came into view of the door, snagged my duffle bag, and stood at the top of the steps. I kept my head down until I was on the ground then lifted it. The first set of eyes I found were John’s.

His face drew back as he took me in, his eyes wide. Then he turned white. The others looked over at him as he froze, took a step back, and put a hand to his mouth. Then John slowly began to move toward me. He stepped past Mike and Mark, his eyes in a squint to try to get a better look at me. No one else moved as he took the last three steps and stopped in front of me.

My jaw ticked and my heart bounced around in my chest as our eyes locked. Recognition dawned and affirmed.

“Son of a bitch,” he hissed then he swung and punched me right in the jaw. I held my ground and didn’t waver as the pain turned to fire and brought tears to my eyes as I tried to hold his stare. His eyes went red and glossy, then he reached forward and pulled me hard into a hug. “Paul?” he whispered, and I dropped my bag and wrapped my arms around him.

“It’s me,” I choked out. “It’s really fucking me.”

One by one, each of the guys took their turn to greet me in some way. Little was said. They were all trying to figure it out, but we all knew it wasn’t the time. A couple of other guys I didn’t know held back.

Frank waved them forward and quickly introduced me after he saw me glance at them. “This is Ty Beckett, the leader of our newest team, and Kit Moore, his second.” I gave a quick nod, and they both did the same.

I knew there’d be things that had changed while I was away, but a new team sure wasn’t something I expected. I’d have to get my head around that one, and that was okay. I just needed to get through this.

“Paul?” Keith, who had been through hell and back, stumbled to make sense of what was happening. “You’re supposed to be dead.” He looked at Cole. “Please tell me you didn’t know.”

“I knew nothing.” Cole glared at Frank, who shook his head. “But my guess would be that you were Frank’s informant in Mexico?”

“Yes.” I watched as everyone absorbed that.

“Which means,” Cole shot another death glare at Frank, “you and Lexi were in a heap of shit.”

---