Hawk (The Quiet Professionals, Book 2) (21 page)

Sal’s jaw muscle flexed and popped.

“So.” Dean turned back to the map. “Looks like the northeast sector needs some eyes. I’ll suit up and head that way.”

“No,” Sal said, his word still tight and tense.

Dean considered him, wondering if he’d have to pull rank.

“You’re too white. Besides,” Sal said, running his hand over his thick beard, “my beard’s better.” A bit of the old sparkle returned to his brown eyes. “It’s better that you’re here, processing the data, directing the team, staying in touch with Command. Maybe even figuring out how to get Hawk back here so he can work his geek magic on that equipment and laptops.”

“Copy that.”

“I can go with Ddrake,” Knight offered.

“We’ll both head out.”

Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan

17 January—1115 Hours

“Lieutenant Rhmani?”

Fekiria rubbed her forehead. “I told you, there was nothing I could do. They took me at gunpoint and locked me away. I had no weapon. No way to return to my aircraft.”

“It’s a little hard to believe, considering the facts.”

She frowned at the flight commander, Major Stuckey. “What facts?”

After several long moments where he simply looked at her, he plucked a file from the bottom of his stack of documents, glanced at it, then slid it across the table to her.

Wary of what this file contained, Fekiria considered the commander. American. Intense. Confrontational.

Like another American soldier she knew. But maybe not so mean.

Well yes, that too, she supposed.

As her fingers separated the pages and opened the file, she kept her attention on the commander. She couldn’t help but wonder where Colonel Mahmoud was, what he thought of the Americans interrogating her. Then again, she was being trained by the Americans and with one of their training choppers.

Finally, she looked down. The heat drained from her face in a nauseating wave of fear and dread. Her picture, stapled to the middle of the file folder, had the name Haidary, Fekiria boldly stamped below it. “What about your brother, Lieutenant?” Stuckey asked, plenty of insinuation in his voice. “Are you close to him?”

“Which one? I have more than—”

“Adeeb Haidary. Are you close to him?”

“He is my brother.” She folded her hands over the file and stared at the gray table.

“Rumor has it you are not on good terms with him.”

She narrowed her eyes at the interrogating officer. He almost seemed to know Adeeb was at the compound, but how would he know? And she certainly would not confirm it, not with her brother’s warning hanging at the back of her mind. “In America, you might accept women in your armies, in your government, but here, it is still something many men do not want or accept. My brother is one of them.” She touched the scabbing knot on her cheek. “This is what happens when a woman speaks her mind in my family.”

He made a noncommittal sound. It was almost as if he
wanted
her to be guilty of stealing the chopper and making all this up. And in a stomach-churning moment, she realized that was exactly what the commander thought.

“Your family doesn’t know you’re in the ANA—is that why you’ve concealed your true identity, which I might add, is a crime?”

“Yes. I hid my identity because if my family found out, they would have killed me. My baba—father—is not a progressive. He misses the old ways, the times before the Taliban and wars. So he demands his wife and daughters adhere to the old ways—it is the only thing he can control.”

“So, you can be controlled.”

She lowered her head. “He thinks he can control me. Baba has tried to marry me off many times.” This would be endless. And she was very tired of telling the story and just plain exhausted. “Commander, I assure you, my loyalty is to this program.”

“But not to the military.”

“To the ANA, yes. One hundred percent.”

“And the U.S. Army who’s training you?”

“For that, I am grateful.”

His head bobbed, but he said nothing. His expression didn’t change.

“Please—I am tired and hungry.”

“Okay. For now, that’s all I have.” He slid a document toward her. “I’ll need your signature on this.”

Fekiria didn’t care what it was, she just wanted out of here. Wanted to eat something, grab a shower, and sleep till the sun rose tomorrow. Not necessarily in that order. Released, she headed out of the building. Across the air base to her bunk. Forgot the food. And even the shower. Dropping into her bunk and escaping was all—

“Lieutenant Rhmani!”

Curse the man!
If she kept going, maybe he wouldn’t—

“Hey, hold up,” Captain Ripley said as he sidled up alongside her.

Fekiria mustered internal fortitude not to show her annoyance. “Oh. Hi.” She sounded fake, but she did not care. “Sorry—I’m just tired.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” A frown tugged his eyebrows together as he spotted the swelling on her cheek. Captain Ripley ran his thumb over the spot.

Fekiria stepped out of his reach and tucked her chin.

“Sorry. I keep forgetting… I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I am fine. Thank you for your kindness.”

“Kindness.”

Guilt choked her. “I…” She shook her head. “Please, forgive me. I am tired, it’s been a scary night, and I just want to forget it happened.” Fekiria pointed to her bunk. “Sleep will help me be nice again.”

Captain Ripley’s slow nod warned her she’d lost points.

But when had she been trying to win them? Especially with him?

“Listen, a panel will naturally need to review everything. They’ll be the ones to reinstate your flight status.”

“So, I’m grounded.”

“It’s SOP—and temporary. As your flight advisor, we’ll need to go over the incident.”

Fekiria flared her nostrils, and she lifted her shoulders in defense.

Captain Ripley held up a hand. “But we’ll start tomorrow.”

Fight deflating, she relaxed a little.

“Get some rest. I’ll see you at 0800, in my office. Okay?”

At his smile and recognition of her state of mind and exhaustion, she relented. Though she would have preferred not to repeat the story a millionth time, she owed it to him. And should be grateful for the break he afforded her. “Thank you. Tomorrow then.”

But she had withheld information that could very well cost her everything—the part about the men secretly working around or on the helicopter. She’d made it back to the base without incident so perhaps they were just looking for secrets about it.

Perhaps. But then, why could she not shake the thick streak of dread plaguing her?

N
ever hurts to have two hands in play. With the way these Chinese are rolling the die, I need the backup. And I gotta admit, it’s fun screwing with guys who run all over the world playing hero. Guys who think they’re
all that and a bag of chips
.

The only chips they have are the ones on their shoulders.

It’s like in high school when the jocks are brought down by a science geek’s flubbed experiment. Doesn’t matter that the experiment fails. If it ruins the jock’s day, the job is done.

So probably by now, people would guess I had a rough time in school.

Nope. Wasn’t me.

But keep trying. You know how I like games.

My phone tweetles, giving me a split-second heart attack. But one check of the screen and I’m feeling pretty good. “Your highness,” I say after answering.

“Have you gotten back in?”

“I’m a skip and a jump away.” I’m hammering at the keyboard as we talk, knowing that minutes equal millions to these people. Well, to me, too, if I can reestablish their connection. Not having eyes on the team and the military Command puts a serious kink in the fabric of our little insurrection.

“We need you to get us in.”

“Working on it, baby.”

“No. I mean
in
.”

My fingers form their own private revolt. My brain shuts down. I can’t think straight. She seriously did not say that. “I…I don’t think you realize what you’re saying.”

“If you cannot do it, we can find another freelancer.”

“Nice try, but you and I both know if you wanted some warehouse hacker, you’d have hired him. But I’m not that guy. And if you want me—”

“Do you see your monitor,
Boris
?”

When they start a threat that way, it’s never good. I’m already sweating by the time my eyeballs lock on to her meaning. There on the right-hand side an icon has appeared. I mean—just appeared. “No. That can’t— You can’t…”

I recognize the skull with the anime-face overlay. It’s mine. They are freakin’ using my own hack against me. How in the name of—?

“Do not try to run your interface, Mr. Kolceki.”

Oh that is not good.
She knows my name!

I can’t breathe. Can’t move. This is
not
happening.

“I need you to listen very carefully. Then you will carry out the instructions and wait for my next call.”

When the connection dies, a little piece of me does, too. Wait for her next call? I don’t think so. They crossed the biggest line in the sand. Invaded my personal and private space. That’s not going to work. If they know who I am, I will never be safe.

It is time to vacate the premises.

As I shift around and make my way to the door, I hesitate.
This is what they want
. I move, I leave now, they are probably sitting there waiting. Or maybe they don’t know where I am, but they’re waiting for me to make that move that gives myself away.

Stunned by the thoughts, I straighten. Look around my cyber nest. No, they know. They had to get that hack on my system. Though I have a million reroutes and dead leads, they’re on to me. Whether tonight or tomorrow, they’ll know where I am.

Tonight. I’ll leave under the cover of darkness. With a quick glance at my watch, I calculate it’s three hours till dark. Thank God it’s winter and darkness comes sooner rather than later.

But still—waiting? Three hours?

What if they’re tracking…?

Lunging toward the main console, I tap my code into the system. Send my data to a remote server and shut down. Kill the power. Then climb into the front seat, thinking. And sit in the darkness.

F
lexing and unflexing his fists, Brian couldn’t get the lifeless body of Specialist Davis out of his mind. Anger roiled through his system like a toxin. Did what they said to do.
Obeyed
the order. Stood down.

And freakin’ watched a subordinate die in front of my eyes
.

Gunned down.

By the very person Brian had his sights on.

How did that make sense? Obey the order.

Molars grinding, Brian remembered her face. Attractive. Blue eyes behind those closed lids. Spatters of blood kissed the right side of her jaw and neck. As if kissing her good-bye.

Davis had what it took to make a difference in the Army. Gave it her all. Chin up, attitude out, she’d faced every bit of his indifference and the tough act he threw at her. Every challenge they encountered, she was right there. Thinking. Strategizing.

She trusted me. Trusted me to watch her six
.

And they freakin’ tied my hands
.

A slap on his shoulder snapped him up, his fists coming up ready for a fight. He drew down the instinct and looked up at Sergeant Brennan.

“You did the right thing,” Brennan said.

“Yeah, and it’s sunny in the Caribbean.”

Brennan gave him a deer-in-the-headlights look.

Only as her coffin slid into the belly of a plane did Brian connect with the fact they’d landed. “Doing the right thing didn’t do her”—he stabbed a gloved finger at Davis—“much good, did it?” He stomped across the tarmac toward his temporary bunk.

This was seriously muffed up.
God, Granddad believes in You like I believe in my team
. Brian shook his head, his mind still tethered to the image of Davis, dead on that stretcher. He gritted his teeth.
But please get me back to Raptor
.

“Sergeant Bledsoe?”

He’d never had been put in a situation like that with Raptor.