Who Else

John’s last mission was to make sure the boys made it home safe. Luckily for him, his duties ended at the border, so he lingered on the edge of the throng of fans gathered at the airport and watched. And waited.

“I thought you and Carolyn were done with the tour,” Dinah Summers said.

John’s hand went for his gun, and he cursed himself. How the hell had he missed her?

“Nostalgia,” he said, eased his hand away from his gun.

Dinah didn’t miss the motion. “I know what really happened in Germany.”

“The boys were lucky they were out breaking curfew when the quake happened,” John lied smoothly. “Kevin just thinks they were quick on their feet.”

Dinah shook her head. “No. I know what really happened.” She took a deep breath. “It was right after Scotty was born. We needed money, so I signed up for a medical study. By the time I was pregnant, I realized something was wrong, that it was no ordinary medical study. Tell me one thing, John, will they hurt my son?”

“Not anymore,” he said. “We worked long and hard to make sure they can’t. It’s done, now. He’ll be free to live a normal life - or as normal as it can be, seeing who he is.”

A chorus of cheers and screams rose up when Scott, half-awake, stepped into the terminal laden down with his luggage and guitar case.

“You weren’t sent to kill him?” Dinah’s voice quavered.

John shook his head. “They wouldn’t have killed him either. But it was our job to protect him.”

“Who else worked with you?”

“Who else but Carolyn?”

(275 words - too many people know now, don't they?)