Page 1 of Chasing Amanda

CHAPTER ONE

“So now we’re going to attack a nation of innocent civilians.” The long-haired English professor leaned forward and slapped his hand against the rectangular table. The man had to be in his fifties, making his ponytail more pathetic than hip.

Beside him, a chubby redhead nodded, apparently awed by the professor’s insights. Opposite him, another man—this one bald, though he didn’t look over twenty-five—responded to the remark with something equally ridiculous.

From his spot at the end of the table, Lieutenant Mark Johnson shot his old friend a look, but Justin just shrugged and gulped another swig of beer.

When Mark had arrived that day after twelve hours on the road, Justin had broken the news that he’d made plans for them. “It’ll be low key,” he’d promised. “No big deal.”

Right.

Mark and Justin had grown up together. Back then, they’d both been athletes. Clean-cut and church-going. Mark still was—well, clean-cut, anyway. He needed to work on the church-going part.

These days, Justin looked every bit the Brown University grad student, right down to the bushy beard. He just needed one of those goofy blazers with the elbow patches.

Mark had never been much of a drinker, but if he was going to endure Justin’s idiot friends, he might need a second beer.

The English professor continued the lecture, focusing most of his attention on his fan club, sycophants with wide eyes and slack jaws. Maybe their slack jaws could be attributed to the professor’s brilliant discourse. More likely, he’d shocked them by spewing his beliefs in front of a Marine just two months after terrorists flew planes into New York’s Twin Towers and the Pentagon. They would’ve hit another government building if not for the heroes on board that flight. Thousands had been murdered that day, but the professor didn’t seem concerned about the innocent lives lost. He was more interested in placing blame—squarely on the victims.

Yup. This was exactly how Mark wanted to spend one of his last nights of freedom—listening to a liquored-up anti-American on a soapbox.

He needed a distraction.

The bar was a typical college-town hotspot, though fancier than some Mark had seen. The exposed brick walls displayed enlarged black-and-white cityscapes—Providence, he guessed, though he wasn’t familiar with the city’s skyline. He’d stopped in Rhode Island on his long drive back to New Hampshire from California.

The place had been about half full, the music at a talkable volume, when they’d arrived an hour earlier.

Now, college students crowded around the long bar. As their voices rose, so did the music.

Where was their server? Mark wouldn’t miss the woman whose pierced face had more metal than a suicide bomber’s vest.

“This whole thing was our fault to begin with,” Professor Lightweight continued, loudly enough that Mark couldn’t ignore him. “Those so-called terrorists are only responding to American imperialism.”

Every muscle in Mark’s body tensed. He folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. This weasel needed a history lesson.

But he didn’t bother. Why waste his breath?

The chubby redhead said, “I’m not sure about that…” And he was off, chasing the American imperialism rabbit trail.

The professor downed the last drop of his frou-frou drink. He seemed like the appletini type.

The waitress’s apron strings caught Mark’s eye as she scooted behind his chair. “Excuse me.”

The woman turned. Not the metal-infested face he’d expected, but a blond-haired stunner.

“You need something?” Her gaze met his, then darted across the room. Tears hovered in her blue eyes and made them sparkle.

“Something wrong?” He followed her gaze and caught sight of two men at a bar-height table near the door, staring at her.

One was laughing.

The other’s mouth hung open. When he caught her looking his way, he licked his lips.

Mark would’ve stood and confronted them if she weren’t behind his chair, blocking him. “They bothering you?”

She glanced at him again, then at the others at the table. “Another round?”

Mark heard their chorus of yeses but kept his focus on the guys paying the server far too much attention.