“Sir?” He sounds confused by my question, so I clarify, the bastard extraordinaire making a brief appearance.
“Wherethefuckare you,boy?” I scream.
“I’m in my offi—”
“Alone?”
“Yes, S—”
“Alive.” I choke up saying it. “She’salive. They found her alive! They just called me and told me to pack, that they’re going to fly us to where they are. They found five people alive, and she’s one of them!”
I know it’s the stress, but I start giggling when I hear his choked sobs.
“A-alive? Are yousure?”
“The guy said he is. Also said not to notify any press yet. I honestly don’t know where the fuck he said they’re taking them, they’re on a fishing boat or something. Rescued off an island. I’ve got to get packed and meet everyone downstairs. Ocampo’s on his way over to talk to us. It’s the middle of the night here, and he woke me up.” I’m babbling again, and I know it.
Alive!
Chapter Twenty-Five
Owen
Thank god I’m in my office with the door closed when I receive Carter’s call. From the way Carter had been crying when I answered, I was absolutely certain this wasnotthe news he was going to drop on me.
For once in my entire life, it’s never felt so fucking good to be so goddamned wrong about something.
“Can I tell Benchley and Michelle?” I manage to choke out.
“Yeah, but tell them no press.”
“Can we fly out and join you?”
“Not yet. I don’t know what kind of shape she’s in, or when she’ll be able to travel. I-I…I don’t even know… I mean, I have no fucking clue where they’re taking her, or where they’re taking us to meet them. I don’t want any press near her yet.”
I have to ask it. “Are yousureit’s her?”
“The guy insisted it’s her.”
Istilldon’t want to hope. We’ve had our hopes crushed so many times already. “I’ll wait to call Benchley then.”
“I don’t want him hearing it from the news, though, Owen. In case it fucking leaks. Go over there,rightnow, and talk to them. Tell themexactlywhat I’ve told you, and that I’ll be in contact assoonas I know more. I promise. Keep your phone charged. Personal phone.”
I’m still struggling to process…this. “Yes, Sir. I will.”
That’s going to be dicey, though. The press are all over me, between the re-election and nowthis. Well, not this, about the search for her. Every goddamned pool spray, at least two or three reporters are still asking me about her, or if there’s any progress, even though we’ve requested they limit those questions to the official daily briefing, or contact Comms directly about it.
Once word leaks out that Susa’s alive, it’ll be infuckingsane.
“Emphasize to himnotto tell the press,” Carter adds. “No fucking FYIs, no fucking scoops, no fucking hints. He can’t call friends or other family members yet, either.Nothing. Full radio silence. I don’t know if they’ve notified all the families yet, or how many are still here. I don’t know what kind of shape she’s in. I mean, he said he’s sure it’s her, and that she’s asking for me, but I don’t know for sure, you know?”
“Yes, Sir.” I’m still crying and suspect I will be for a while. “Please tell her I love her.”
“You fucking bet I will, buddy. Ipromise, assoonas I have eyes on her, I’ll call you on your personal cell. Keep it on you.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
“I need to go, Owen. I love you.”
