It sure as hell didn't feel right. Just looking at them was enough to make him wish he'd died alongside Mary. The weight of his guilt bore down against his heart, crushing the strength right out of him. If it weren't for his need for revenge and his promise to see Noelle safely through this mess, he didn't think he'd have the will to keep breathing.
As much as he wanted to see the Swarm wiped out, he hated the thought of pulling Noelle into the middle of this dangerous mess. What if he wasn't strong enough to keep her safe?
"How long until we move her, sir? It's scary as hell to have her sitting around in a place as open as this."
Monroe leaned back in the office chair that had been brought in as part of his mobile office. One of the bedrooms in the old house had been converted into a work space, containing a computer, printer/fax machine, communications equipment and a closed-circuit TV screen that monitored the room where Noelle was being held. Nothing matched as it was all cast-off furniture from renovated offices, but it functioned, and that was all that mattered.
"I'm waiting on details regarding her transfer now," said Monroe. "There are three facilities fighting over her. I'm waiting for the pissing contest to run out of ammunition."
David pulled in a deep breath, trying to convince his , body that he was relaxed rather than ready to strangle someone. "I want to be assigned to her protection team."
Monroe nodded his steel gray head. "You can escort her to her final destination, but after that, we're going to need you in the field, Captain."
David hated leaving Noelle alone.
No, not alone, he corrected himself. She'd be guarded 24/7 deep in the bowels of some impenetrable compound.
She'd be safe.
Safer than she would be with him around. He couldn't let himself get involved. He couldn't forget what happened the last time he cared about a woman.
David cursed and slugged back the hot coffee fast enough it didn't have time to spill. The black liquid burned all the way down, making him feel more alert already.
"I don't like it" David admitted, though he wasn' t specific about exactly which part he didn't like. Let the colonel figure it out.
"She'll be fine. And when it's all over, we can even let you come for a visit, if you like."
He did like, and that was the problem. "I just want to get this over with."
Monroe gave a whatever-you-want shrug but said nothing about David's choice. "I'll call in and see if there's any news on where she's moving. Why don't you go sit with her and bring her something to eat? It looks like you both could use a decent meal."
David glanced at the screen, which showed Noelle curled into a ball on the chair with her legs tucked up under her.
She was covered completely by his jacket but still shaking visibly.
After she'd been sick, they let her clean herself up while someone got rid of the trash can and the photos.
He thought her color had been better when he left the room and that she might actually sleep a little, but it was obvious now that she was a long way from sleeping anytime soon.
David knew the feeling and felt that selfish need to comfort her again, as if he could make himself feel better by making her feel better.
Too little, too late.
"Okay, sure," said David, and went to the farmhouse kitchen in search of some food.
The lock on the door grated, making Noelle jump. She was beginning to dread that door opening. Every time it did, things got worse.
David came in, carrying a cupboard shelf like a tray. "You hungry?" he asked, his eyes roaming over her, covering every inch as if looking for something. She had no idea why he did that every time he came around, but she was a long way from being used to his scrutiny.
"I really just want to get out of here. If I never see this room again, it will be too soon."
"I can arrange that. Come on."
He spoke quietly to the guards outside the door and led her to a smaller room that must have been a child's bedroom at one point, judging by the faded Mickey Mouse wallpaper. The floors were bare wood and there was a smaller table set up in here—the old-fashioned drop-leaf style just big enough for two. Even though it was still a prison of sorts, it was much better than the last room, with its stagnant air and recent, but horrible, memories.
David set down the shelf, revealing several sandwiches, a couple of cans of Coke and a bowl of canned chicken noodle soup.
He ignored her statement and popped the top on a Coke. 'This should help settle your stomach if it's still bothering you."
Noelle took the drink and sipped. Her stomach did settle some, but she thought it was more due to David being here than the soda. As unnerving as this whole mess was, he was a constant for her. Something in his steady strength and unwavering honesty gave her a slim thread of comfort, which was more than she found from anyone else. "When can I leave?"
David bit into a sandwich and chewed. "Soon. You'll be taken somewhere safe where you can work."
"Where?"
"I don't know yet, but we'll find out soon."
"Soon? Soon as in minutes, hours, days?"
His blue eyes slid to the soup. "You should eat something. There's no telling how long it may be until you get another hot meal."
"I don't want food. What I want is to get out of here right now. Barring that, I'd like some more aspirin since I puked up the last ones."
"I can do the aspirin, at least—if you promise to eat something so they don't make you sick again. The rest is out of my hands." He sounded truly sorry about that last part, which didn't do anything to make Noelle feel better about what was going to happen next.
Noelle took a sip of the soup just to get him moving toward those pills. Her headache was really getting bad.