Oppose Any Foe. Jack Mars

plush sofa in the living room of his former house. Gunner was at school.

      Luke glanced around the place. Once upon a time, he and Becca had had a great life here. It was a beautiful home, modern, like something out of an architectural magazine. The living room, with its floor to ceiling windows, was like a glass box. He pictured Christmas time – just sitting in this stunning sunken living room, the tree in the corner, the fireplace lit, the snow coming down all around as if they were outside, but they were inside, warm and cozy.

      God, it was nice. But those days were gone.

      Becca bustled around, cleaning up, dusting, putting various things away. At one point in the conversation, she took the vacuum cleaner out of the closet and let it rip. She was in a very bad place psychologically. He had tried to hug her when he first arrived, but she had gone wooden, her arms at her sides.

      “I was over you, did you know that?” she said now. “I was ready to move on with my life. I even went on a few coffee dates when you had Gunner with you this summer. Why not? I’m still young, right?”

      She shook her head bitterly. Luke said nothing. What was there to say?

      “Do you want to know something about yourself, Luke? The first one I met, he was a teacher on his summer vacation, nice guy, and he asked me what you do for a living. I told him the truth. Oh, my ex-husband’s some kind of secret assassin for the government. He used to be in Delta Force. You know what happened after that? I’ll tell you. Nothing happened. It was the last I ever heard from him. He heard Delta Force and he disappeared. You frighten people, Luke. That’s my point.”

      Luke shrugged. “Why don’t you just tell them I do something else? It’s not like I’m going to – ”

      “I did. Once I caught on, I started telling people you’re a lawyer.”

      .For a second, Luke wondered what the plural “people” meant. Was she going on dates every day? Two a day? He shook his head. It was none of his business anymore, as long as she was safe. And even that… she was dying. She would never be safe again, and there was nothing he could do about it.

      A long paused passed between them.

      “Do you want to get a second opinion?”

      She nodded. She looked numb, in shock, like the survivors of disasters and atrocities Luke had seen so many times. The amazing thing was that she also looked perfectly healthy. A little thinner than usual, but no one would ever guess that she had cancer. They would probably think she’d been on a diet.

      It’s the chemo that makes them look sick. Half the time, it’s also what kills them.

      “I’ve already gotten a second opinion from an old colleague of mine. I’m going for a third opinion early next week. If it’s consistent with what I’ve already heard, then by Thursday, I’ll begin the protocols.”

      “Is surgery an option?” Luke said.

      She shook her head. “It’s too late for that. The cancer is everywhere…” Her voice trailed off. “Everywhere. Chemotherapy is the only option. If I exhaust the approved chemo drugs, then maybe clinical trials, if I’m even still alive.”

      She started crying again. She stood in the middle of the living room, abjectly, her face buried in her hands, her body shaking with the sobs. To Luke, she looked just like a little girl. It stung him to see her reduced to this. He had been around death a lot in his life, seen too much of it, but this? It couldn’t be true. He stood, and went to her then. He would comfort her if he could.

      She pushed him away, violently, like a child in a playground fight.

      “Don’t touch me! Get away from me!” She pointed at him, her face a raging mask of anger. “It’s you!” she shrieked. “You make people sick, don’t you realize that? You steal all the oxygen in the room. You and your superhero garbage.”

      She bobbed her head from side to side, mocking him. “Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” she said in a caricature of a low masculine voice. “I’ve got to run off and save the world. No telling if I’ll be alive or dead three days from now. Raise the boy for me, won’t you? Just doing my patriotic duty.”

      She was seething. Her voice went back to normal. “You do it because it’s fun, Luke. You do it because you’re irresponsible. You enjoy it. For you, there are no consequences. You don’t care if you live or die anyway, and everybody else has to deal with the fallout and the stress.”

      She burst into tears. “I’m done with you. I’m just done.” She waved her hand at him. “I’m sure you can find your own way out of here. So just go. Okay? Go away. Let me die in peace.”

      With that, she left the room. A moment of silence passed, and then he heard her down the hall in the master bedroom, sobbing.

      He stood there for a long moment, not sure what to do. Gunner would be home in a couple of hours. It wasn’t a good idea to leave him here with Becca, but he didn’t know if he had much choice. She had custody. He had visitation rights. If he took Gunner with him now, without her permission, it was technically kidnapping.

      He sighed. When had the legalities of a situation stopped him before?

      Luke was at a loss. He felt his energy draining away. And they still hadn’t explained anything about this to the child yet. Maybe he should call Becca’s parents and talk to them. The truth was Becca had handled nearly all the domestic details during their relationship. Maybe she was right about him – he was a lot more comfortable out in the world, playing cops and robbers with very dangerous people. Other people worried about him, he knew, but he didn’t worry. What kind of person lived like that? Maybe one who had never grown up.

      On the glass table near the sofa, his telephone began to ring. He glanced at it. As it often did, it seemed almost like it was alive, a viper, dangerous to touch.

      He picked it up. “Stone.”

      A male voice was on the line.

      “Hold for the President of the United States.”

      He glanced up, and Becca hovered in the doorway now. Apparently, she had heard his phone ring. She was back again, ready to listen to his conversation and confirm all of her worst feelings about him. For a split second, he felt real hatred for her – she was going to be right about him, no matter what. All the way into her grave, she was going to have him nailed.

      Now the voice of Susan Hopkins came on.

      “Luke, are you there?”

      “Hi, Susan.”

      “Long time, no see, Agent Stone. How are you doing?”

      “I’m fine,” he said. “You?”

      “Good,” she said, but the tone of her voice said something else. “Everything is okay. Listen, I need your help.”

      “Susan…” he started.

      “It’s a one-day thing, but it’s very important. I need someone who can put it to bed quickly, and with complete discretion.”

      “What is it?”

      “I can’t talk about this over the telephone,” she said. “Can you come in?”

      His shoulders sagged. Ah, man.

      “All right.”

      “How soon can you be here?”

      He glanced at his watch. Gunner would be home in an hour and a half. If he wanted to spend time with his son, the meeting would have to wait. If he went to the meeting…

      He sighed.

      “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

      “Good. I’ll make sure they bring you straight to me.”

      He hung up. He looked at Becca. There was something cruel and mocking inside her eyes. There was a demon in there, dancing on a lake of fire.

      “Where are you going, Luke?”

      “You know where I’m going.”

      “Oh, you’re