Private Beijing

Chapter 106

“Jack?” Justine asked in disbelief.

“Yeah. It’s me. We just landed in New York. At Teterboro.”

I heard sobs of relief down the phone.

“Jack, oh my God,” she said. “Are you OK?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” She sounded happy beyond reckoning, and I was too.

“I’m fine. Feeling so much better now I’m home. Hearing your voice.”

“Me too, Jack. Me too.” She was crying now, but they were tears of joy.

“Where are you?” I asked, eager to see her.

“Sci, Mo-bot, and I just sat down for a late lunch at the Edition. Near the office.”

“The Edition Hotel,” I told Carver, who was beside me on the back seat of the Suburban.

“You get that?” he asked his Secret Service driver, and the man nodded.

“We’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I said.

I’d waited to make the call until we were on the edge of the city.

“I can’t wait,” Justine replied, her voice alive with excitement.

I hung up and looked across at West, who had coped admirably with his shoulder injury.

“I hope you’ll take my offer seriously,” I said. “If and when you leave the Corps.”

“Are you trying to poach a Marine in front of the Secretary of Defense?” Carver asked jokingly.

“I wouldn’t say poach. I’m just giving him options.”

Carver smiled.

“Thank you,” West replied. “I appreciate it.”

We made it through the gleaming city in record time and reached the hotel in fifteen minutes, where we found Sci, Mo-bot, and Justine with plates of sandwiches.

Justine’s had hardly been touched. She got up, hurried across the room and threw her arms around me the moment we walked in. Carver’s arrival set the busy bar abuzz, but he didn’t pay it any mind and sat down with West, Mo-bot, and Sci while Justine and I kissed.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she said.

“Me too,” I replied.

“I was so worried.”

“It was touch and go at times,” I acknowledged.

“Don’t tell me that,” she said, and took my hand. “Come on. You must be starving.”

I nodded. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten.

I pulled up a seat between Justine and Carver. He was getting prompt attention from the server, a starstruck woman in her early twenties. She kept smiling uncontrollably, much like Justine and me.

“A beer for me, please,” Carver said. He turned to me and asked, “Beer?”

“Yeah. I’ll have a beer,” I replied. “Thanks, Eli.”