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Authors: Kaylea Cross

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Danger Close (3 page)

BOOK: Danger Close
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“No, but if he couldn’t get a military flight, he might be driving there.”

Rahim frowned. Maybe Sandberg and the CIA weren’t expecting him to be a threat now that he was wounded and in hiding. But not on the run, he reminded himself vehemently. He would never
run
like a cowardly dog, not from anything or anyone. “And the American just offered up all this information, why?” If this so-called “source” wasn’t just feeding them false information or trying to lead him into a trap, that is. Rahim was far more wary today than he had been even a few days ago, and he wasn’t about to do anything stupid. He could act from out here in the middle of nowhere without placing himself in direct danger and do what he could to avoid enemy drones and satellites out looking for him.

Safir shrugged. “I don’t know. But it’s worth checking into, don’t you think?”

Oh yeah, very worth it. He gestured impatiently with his right hand, determined to ignore the pain and fatigue pulling at him. “Bring the senior commanders in. I need to coordinate everything immediately.” Starting with placing people at the Kabul airport and the checkpoints on the roads leading from Bagram to Kabul by morning.

If Rahim’s wish came true, the only way Wade Sandberg would be leaving Afghanistan was in a pine box.

****

Erin woke with a start when the alarm on her phone buzzed in her hand. She’d fallen asleep holding it again. Stifling a groan as she rolled over in her bunk, she smiled as her sleepy brain realized what day it was. In a few hours she was going home.

Sitting up, she took a look around. The other four bunks in the B-hut were empty. Maya was now in Qatar, of course. Devon had long since been back in Washington State recovering from injuries sustained during a medevac mission gone terribly wrong, Ace was no doubt out hunting in her gunship again, and Honor was—

The door to the hut swung open to reveal the woman in question standing there. The aviation maintenance sergeant’s cheeks were pink and she was breathing hard as though she’d run all the way here from the hangar. She was still dressed in her grease-stained utilities, and strands of her strawberry-blond hair had come loose from her tidy bun. Her pale blue eyes held an almost frantic light as she met Erin’s gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Erin demanded.

Honor stepped inside and shut the door behind her. “I just came from the hangar. They flew a damaged Chinook in from Kandahar this morning. It had bullet holes all over it. There were bloodstains in the back all over the deck, and on the pilot-commander’s seat. I know it was Liam’s bird, and no one’s telling me anything.”

Oh, shit
. Erin pushed the covers off her and stood up. As a pilot with the Army’s elite Night Stalkers, Liam often flew the kinds of dangerous missions like the one to extract Maya, Jackson and the Sec Def yesterday. No surprise that Honor had seen the damage and put two and two together on her own. “Are you—”

“Have you seen him?”

Erin shook her head. “No, but—”

“Have you heard anything?” Her face was pinched.

Hating to see her so upset, Erin waved her over. “Come here.”

Honor tightened her jaw but did as she said, stopping a foot from Erin. The smell of oil and hydraulic fluid drifted in the air between them. “Just tell me.”

Erin set an arm around Honor’s tense shoulders and drew her down to sit stiffly beside her on the edge of the bunk. She understood how tough this was. Three years ago she’d gotten the call that her boyfriend David was KIA and it had been devastating. “I didn’t see him personally but I know he was admitted to the hospital in Kandahar yesterday and that his injuries were minor. He was treated and released after a couple hours.”

At that Honor turned her head to stare directly into Erin’s eyes. A don’t-you-dare-bullshit-me look, capped off by a sheen of tears that made Erin’s heart clench in sympathy. “You’re
sure
?”

“I’m sure.” She squeezed Honor’s shoulder, rubbed her palm over it in a show of comfort. “He’s okay.”

Honor swallowed and looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. “Okay as in he’s well enough to still be on active duty? Or okay as in he’ll be fine once he recovers from whatever happened to him?”

“I’d say the first, but maybe only a few days if it’s the second.”

Honor searched her eyes again for a moment, as if she was trying to decide whether Erin was telling her the truth or just giving her a bullshit story to calm her down. She must have decided Erin was being real, because at last she dropped her face into her hands and took several slow, shaky breaths. Erin rubbed a soothing hand over her friend’s back, not knowing what else to say. At least Honor knew Liam was all right.

She knew they’d been engaged until a few months ago, before Honor had come here on her most recent tour, but that was all. It was clear Honor still cared very much for him despite the breakup. What the hell had happened to make them split when it was so obvious that Honor wasn’t over him?

“Better?” Erin asked softly a minute later.

Honor nodded, face still resting in her hands.

“Can’t you send him an e-mail or something, just to put your mind at ease?” Erin assumed she wouldn’t want to actually speak to him over the phone or anything like that.

“No, it’s…no.” Honor straightened with a sigh then stood. She frowned as she glanced around and noticed the packed bags Erin had stowed by the head of her bunk. Those pale blue eyes flashed up to hers. “Is it that day already?”

Erin nodded, feeling a pang at leaving Honor here. Of all her roomies, she was closest to Honor. “Leaving for Kabul in forty minutes.”

“Oh.” She glanced around the hut, taking in all the empty beds. “Getting kind of lonely around here. Now it’ll just be Ace and me.”

And Ace’s night shifts meant she’d be mostly sleeping during the day, so not much company for Honor. “I’ll be back in two weeks. You’ll barely even have time to miss me.”

Honor put on a smile, but it was less than convincing. “Yeah. You take care, okay?”

“I will.” She reached up to return the hug Honor offered, patted her back, but she could tell her friend was still upset. “Maybe have someone pass on a message to him for you at least. I know you, you’ll drive yourself nuts without at least hearing something from him, even if it’s passed on from someone else.”

“Maybe,” Honor said evasively as she pulled away and straightened. “See you in two weeks. Say hi to the horses for me.”

“You bet.”

As soon as she was alone, Erin grabbed her toiletries and rushed across to the shower facility through the cool March morning air. Scrubbed, dressed and fed, she gathered her bags and headed toward the main gates where the truck she’d be riding in was waiting. After verifying everything with the driver, she loaded her gear into the back of the Hummer, slid into the backseat and fastened the chinstrap on her helmet. They were all required to wear body armor outside the protected confines of the base, and the roads to and from Kabul could still be dangerous for anyone wearing a military uniform. Especially if said uniform had a U.S. flag anywhere on it.

The usual noises of Bagram came through her open window: the pulse of rotor blades, the muted purr of engines, the bustle of personnel moving around the base. Tomorrow night she’d be hearing nothing but crickets and maybe the occasional howl of a wolf or coyote out on the ranch. The thought made her smile in anticipation.

Approaching footsteps sounded to her right. As she turned her head the opposite door opened and a man started to slide inside. When she saw his profile a tiny shock ran through her. He reached for the door handle, glanced over and froze in place when he saw her, those dark eyes filled with startled recognition.

Sandberg.

He’d shaved, she thought inanely, unable to tear her gaze away. The long, thick beard from yesterday was now trimmed to a very sexy heavy stubble that made him look rugged and intensely masculine.

For a second she floundered for something to say. His big frame seemed to crowd the interior of the Hummer. She was suddenly aware of just how broad his shoulders were, how ripped the muscles in those arms were beneath the sleeves of his snug T-shirt that hugged his powerful chest and flat belly. He was lean though despite that obvious strength, and more than what being in phenomenal shape would do. The slight hollows beneath his cheeks told her he’d been living on a very restricted diet for a long time. She remembered the way he’d watched her yesterday. Stared, actually. With way more than average masculine interest. It had damn near bordered on fascination, like he hadn’t seen a woman in forever. Just where the hell had he been living, and for how long?

“Are you going to Kabul too?” she finally asked when he didn’t say anything, a little discomfited by the unexpected pull of attraction she felt toward him. He was hard and remote, and he had dangerous written all over him. The exact opposite of what she wanted in a man.

“Yeah, the airport. You?” He was doing it again. Staring at her with a mixture of awareness and…veiled interest. As though he was fascinated by each feature on her face and wanted to memorize them. She wasn’t sure if she was flattered or if it made her really damn uncomfortable.

“Flying out at eleven hundred.” Because it was cheaper for Uncle Sam to send her back home on a civilian aircraft out of Kabul than take up valuable room in a military aircraft when it could be transporting supplies or equipment instead.

“To Heathrow?”

She blinked. “Yes.”

“Huh.” He settled back against the seat and broke eye contact, and she noticed he didn’t have a helmet with him. He was wearing a military-issue armored vest though. “What are the odds of that?” he murmured as he stared out the passenger window, effectively ending the brief conversation.

Pretty slim
. She turned her attention back out her window, acutely aware that for the next few hours she’d be stuck beside a man who had her internal female radar pinging like a freaking pinball machine, yet had no interest in talking to her. Yay. Her leave was off to a
fantastic
start.

Chapter Three

The Humvee Wade sat in was the last in a line of five vehicles. Another one was up front in the lead, with two big supply trucks sandwiched between it and the Humvee directly in front of theirs. They all rolled out together through the main gates, past all the razor wire and the secure perimeter and started out toward Kabul.

It still didn’t feel like enough protection.

Other than his increased vigilance now that they’d left the relative safety of the base and being conscious of the SIGs snug against the small of his back and strapped to his right calf, Wade was vividly aware of the woman beside him. And of the slightly awkward tension in the vehicle now that the initial small talk was out of the way. Behind the wheel the driver, a guy named Thompson, was completely tuning them out as he listened to rap or hiphop or whatever the hell it was he had going from whatever electronic device he’d plugged into the radio deck. Sounded like godawful noise to Wade.

“So, where’s home?” Erin asked him a few minutes into the drive, apparently uncomfortable with the lack of conversation.

“Wyoming.” Technically. The word
home
evoked memories of the house he’d grown up in as a kid, but that was long gone, torn down nearly fifteen years ago. He didn’t have anywhere in particular to go now, so he’d probably rent a cabin or something up in the Blue Ridge Mountains once he was done in Langley, to reacclimate for a while. It was going to take time to fit back into society and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever feel comfortable in it again. When Erin kept looking at him he realized he was being rude by not extending the basic courtesy of lobbing the conversation ball back over the net to her. “You?”

“Montana. Just outside of Billings. Where are you from in Wyoming?”

“Near Jackson Hole.” Not that far from Billings.

She was quiet for a moment, then picked up the thread of conversation when he let it lapse for too long. “Do you ride horses?”

He turned his head to look at her again. She was watching him, those expressive green eyes full of curiosity. “Yeah, practically grew up in the saddle.”

Her excited smile made her eyes sparkle, and something about the sight damn near mesmerized him. She wore her emotions right out there in the open, something that was as foreign to him now as fast food and booze. “Me too. I can’t wait to get home and take my horse out. He’s at my parents’ ranch.”

Wade nodded to show he was listening, actually enjoying the sound of her voice, which surprised him, since small talk had always bugged the ever living shit out of him. He thought back to the last time he’d been in the saddle, when he’d been riding an ugly-ass mule in the Kush back in his SF days. Before that, it’d been years before when he’d worked as a ranch hand prior to joining the Army. Sometimes he missed those days, the freedom he’d always felt on horseback, out roaming the hills and coulees by himself. Still made some of his fondest memories.

They lapsed into silence after that, but it felt less strained this time and he was glad, because this time she seemed content not to fill the quiet. As a nurse, she’d be used to working with and handling people all day. He’d once been a people person too, for all his introverted nature, which was why he’d done so well in SF, because a good chunk of his career had been spent training indigenous forces. Since going undercover, that had all changed. He’d sometimes gone weeks without interacting with anyone other than Rahim, and even then a lot of the time it had been over the phone. Somewhere along the way he’d lost that engaging part of his personality. He was harder now, more remote, but he’d had no choice because it had been either adapt or die.

That was another reason why he wasn’t comfortable engaging in small talk while they were out here in no man’s land. He didn’t like letting his focus wander even that much, and doubted he’d ever get used to western social norms ever again.

Grateful for the quiet again as the minutes ticked by—the damned rap music coming from the radio notwithstanding—he peered through the windshield and saw the first checkpoint coming up. Eventually the convoy slowed and ground to a halt. Wade kept his attention on what was happening around them, ready to act if his gut told him they were in any sort of danger. He also knew the others in the vehicle were oblivious to his hyper vigilance and the reasons for it.

BOOK: Danger Close
2.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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