Line of Fire (28 page)

“We made it,” he murmured to her.

In the orange glow from the mayhem he’d wrought below, he saw her gaze cloud over. A tear slid down her cheek.

He reached up to wipe it away, but Charlie Squad’s medic, Doc, intervened, asking her about her health. And then Doc was talking to him, asking him about his injuries. All he wanted to do was wrap Kimberly in his arms and never let her go, but too many people were in the way. He already missed her. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

Chapter 19

T
ex stood stiff and uncomfortable in an ornate room about to do the thing he’d once dreaded. Face Kimberly Stanton across a Senate hearing chamber. His dark blue Class-A uniform felt tight across his shoulders and his starched shirt and tie rubbed his neck.
Time to pay the piper.

Kimberly’d done as she promised and, with her father’s help, launched a congressional investigation into her kidnapping and subsequent rescue. This afternoon he and she would both be allowed to testify about it before the Senate Arms Committee. Or ordered to, in his case.

Tex’s chest tightened as a dozen senators filed into the room and made their way toward their places. God, how he hated having his future rest in their hands. Unfortunately in his line of work, controversial missions and occasional political fallout came with the territory.

Colonel Folly touched his elbow and directed him toward the table where he’d sit with the lawyer the Air Force had provided for him. His back was to the door when Kimberly walked into the room, but he felt her presence as surely as if she’d grabbed his belt again. He turned around.

The whole room came to a momentary halt as she stepped in, such was the impact of her beauty. And then the low buzz of muted voices started up again.

She looked stunning. Her hair was twisted up into some sort of knot, every golden strand perfectly in place. Her makeup accentuated her features and a dark green suit made her eyes glow as bright as the morning jungle. Every inch of her was cool and elegant, classier than he’d ever imagined she could clean up. And he had a pretty outrageous imagination.

Tex’s gut twisted into a hot knot as a good-looking, power-lawyer type took Kimberly’s elbow to guide her across the polished marble floor. Tex looked down. Yup. Three-inch spikes.

He glanced up and she was looking at him. Her lips curved in the faintest of smiles and she nodded coolly at him.

She remembered, too.

He remembered everything about her, about their time together. He missed the feel of her sleek body against his. He missed kissing her. Hell, he missed fighting with her. He’d slept lousy every night of the two weeks since they’d been rescued. He kept hoping she’d call, even though his lawyer told him the two of them couldn’t have any contact until after the congressional hearings were over.

He lay awake until all hours wondering what she was doing. Wondering if she thought about him at all. Or if she’d slipped right back into her hoity-toity world without even a backward glance for him.

As she slid gracefully into her seat, every inch of her perfect, he supposed he had his answer. She couldn’t even see a grunt like him from the stratosphere she orbited in. Grimly he sat down beside his own lawyer as the session was called to order. He half listened to the drone of the chairman reading into the record the reason for today’s hearing.

And then Senator Norwood addressed him. “Captain Monroe, the members of this committee have read and reviewed your report concerning the kidnapping and rescue of Miss Stanton. Do you have anything to add to your statement at this time?”

Tex winced. Even in the dry language of official reports, his mission report made for condemning reading. Attacking and looting the guard in the truck, assaulting another soldier and tying him to a tree, and killing a third rebel outright from the cliff. And then came the good stuff—assuming incorrectly that Kimberly was the target, handing over the RITA rifle, and the night they got rescued—hell, he’d slit a man’s throat while Kimberly looked on.

He didn’t even want to guess how many men he’d shot. The damage estimates suggested in excess of a hundred dead and twice that many wounded out of that one night’s work.

He leaned toward the microphone and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “The only thing I would like to add to my report is how relieved I am that Miss Stanton was unharmed throughout her ordeal. If I had it to do all over again, I would do the very same things I did in order to secure her safe return.”

He caught Kimberly’s startled glance at him over her lawyer’s shoulder.

“Ahem, well yes, Captain,” the senator responded. “So noted.” And then the gray haired man turned to Kimberly. “During your unfortunate absence, this committee had ample time to review your proposal for the disbanding of Special Forces squads like the one that rescued you. In light of your recent unique opportunity to observe a member of one of these units at work, do you have anything to add to your recommendations to this committee?”

Her voice slid across Tex’s skin like velvet. “Yes, Senator Norwood, I do.”

Here it came. Tex steeled himself for the charges he’d been told by his lawyer to expect her to level at him. He glanced at the pair of federal marshals positioned by the doors. He fully expected to leave in their custody this afternoon.

“My attorneys have written a complete brief that goes into more detail. We will file it after this session. But I have prepared a short summary of my observations and recommendations for you.”

The senator gestured for her to read it.

With a quick shuffle of her papers, she began. “‘During my time with Captain Monroe, I witnessed the full extent of his training. It encompassed skills in survival and camping, escape and evasion, hunting and tracking, and multiple demonstrations of his physical prowess. He is highly intelligent and extremely resourceful, particularly in violent or dangerous situations.

“‘Additionally, I saw Captain Monroe engage in hand-to-hand combat, knife fighting, sniper shooting, and mass weapons combat. In short, he demonstrated amply to me that he is, in fact, the nearly unstoppable killing machine I once accused him of being.’”

Tex couldn’t help but flinch. To hear the woman he loved speak so emotionlessly, so damningly, of him and everything he’d worked so hard to be cut deep.

She continued, “‘I have had some time to reflect upon what I saw and have come to the following conclusion. We the people of the United States must do everything in our power to train and support Captain Monroe and the men and women like him who defend our nation so ably.’”

Tex lurched in his seat like an electric shock had just shot through it. A buzz erupted. It echoed off the chamber’s vaulted ceiling and rattled loudly inside his skull. She
supported
what he’d done? Shock and elation warred for a position as foremost in his gut. Kimberly Stanton, anti-military lobbyist extraordinaire, holder of his heart, had not turned on him after all?

Senator Norwood stared at Kimberly in surprise. “Am I to understand, after your harrowing ordeal, that you are completely reversing your position regarding the disbanding of military hit squads?”

“That’s correct, sir.”

Another buzz, even louder than before. The chairman rapped his gavel for quiet. “I must say, you’ve taken us by surprise, Miss Stanton. Perhaps a recess would be in order for my colleagues and me to review your new position papers.”

There was a quick motion to that effect made and seconded by other committee members, and the hearing was adjourned.

And just like that, it was over. Tex sat in his seat, stunned. He wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that Kimberly would support him and Charlie Squad like that. And then a need to see her, to talk to her and touch her—hell, to
thank
her—propelled him to his feet.

People swarmed all around him as he searched for her. Over the heads of the crowd pressing in on him, he saw an equally large throng mobbing Kimberly. He tried to push through the press of people, but got nowhere fast.

He vaguely registered Colonel Folly slapping him on the shoulder and murmuring his congratulations. His lawyer steered him toward the chamber doors. Away from Kimberly. But he wanted to talk to her! To thank her, if nothing else. Hell, to get her phone number. But the lawyer was politely insistent that Tex go outside and give interviews to the media. Good P.R. for the Air Force, and all that.

The press had latched on to the whole Tarzan and Jane nature of their ordeal and had been hounding him ever since the story hit the wires, trying to make some sort of hero out of him. He’d made one official statement that he was just doing his job and he’d dodged the microphones and cameras since then.

He and his lawyer reached the doors leading into the main corridor, and there the crowd abruptly stopped. The tall, double doors didn’t open on cue. A congressional page explained apologetically that there would be a bit of a holdup because the camera crews outside weren’t set up yet. Nobody had anticipated such a quick recess in this closed session, apparently.

Tex cooled his jets while the reporters were tracked down and the lights turned on. Kimberly must be looking forward to this press conference. She’d been plastered all over the news ever since they’d come home, and rumors were flying that she’d announce her own bid to run for Congress any day. Riding the wave of being a hero had launched her father’s career; it would no doubt work for her, too.

A hand touched his arm and he spun around. He’d know that light touch anywhere.

“Kimberly.” Dammit, his heart leapt into his throat like he was some awkward teenager. He nodded politely, vividly aware of the staring eyes and straining ears around them, as they met for the first time since their return to civilization.

“How’s your leg?” she asked equally politely.

He looked deeply into her eyes. His feisty, smart, passionate Kimberly was still there beneath all the varnish. He could see it in her eyes. God, he’d missed her. “Leg’s good as new. Your pressure bandage really did the trick.”

She stared back, her emerald gaze brimming with words unsaid between them. “I’m glad.”

Someone jostled through the crowd, somehow managing to push through the crush of avid spectators to this little reunion.

“There you are, Captain.” A huge bear of a man held out his hand to him and boomed, “William Stanton. I wanted to thank you in person for bringing my daughter home to me.” He leaned close and slapped Tex’s shoulder, adding in an undertone pitched for Tex’s ears alone, “And I mean that in more ways than one, son. I owe you an enormous debt.”

Tex blinked, careful to betray nothing in his expression. He glanced over at Kimberly, who smiled fondly at her father. Had they made up? Were the rumors true that the elder Stanton was going to endorse his daughter’s bid for his old seat in the House of Representatives? A hundred more questions leapt into his mind.

“Three minutes till camera!” someone shouted.

Tex grimaced. Kimberly might love the limelight, but he wanted nothing to do with it. In some ways, hiding from the press had been harder than avoiding the rebels in the jungle.

Kimberly leaned close and murmured, “You don’t look too thrilled about going out there and facing the media.”

He rolled his eyes and murmured back, “I’d rather face a firing squad.”

“I know a back way out of here,” she breathed. “Wanna make a break for it?”

Kimberly Stanton skip out on all the bright lights and publicity? “Are you sure?” he asked in surprise. “Your career…the coverage…”

She rolled her eyes in turn. “There’s plenty more of that where it came from. Besides, it’ll probably make even more headlines if we sneak out of here together. What say we blow this Popsicle stand?”

“You’re on.”

He followed her as she unobtrusively elbowed her way through the crowd. He rolled his eyes as she murmured something about going to the rest rooms to make sure their makeup was right for the cameras.
Their
makeup? He wouldn’t be caught
dead
wearing
makeup.
God, he’d never live it down with the rest of the guys.

However, the inane excuse had the desired effect. Everyone ignored them as they slipped to the back of the crowd waiting to leave the room.

“This way.” She led him across the chamber and out a small door that led to a series of smaller caucus rooms.

“Are these the infamous back rooms of Congress where all the deals get made?” he asked as they whisked through the maze of doors and corridors.

She grinned over her shoulder. “The very same.” She pushed open a door and they stepped outside onto a sidewalk. Alone.

Tex took his bearings quickly. “My car’s right around the corner. Let’s get out of here before anyone realizes we’re gone.”

“Lead the way, Tarzan.”

He took her elbow and steered her across the street. “After you, Jane.”

He helped her into the car and then slid behind the wheel. He breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled out into traffic. “Where to?”

She answered lightly, but he knew her well enough to hear the tension in her voice. “I seem to recall promising you the best seafood dinner on the East Coast if you’d clean a fish for me.”

He glanced over at her. Why was she so wired? Worried about being seen with him, maybe? Would that be so bad for her image? Probably. If she ran for Congress, she’d be expected to date only East Coast blue bloods with last names that were household words. His jaw tightened and he replied casually, “I also recall promising you a greasy hamburger with all the trimmings. What’s your preference?”

The moment stretched out, a microcosm of their two clashing worlds. A four-star restaurant versus a greasy spoon. It was a no-brainer which one she’d choose.

“I’d like a hamburger,” she replied.

He about swerved into the curb and had to correct the car’s course hastily. He hadn’t seen that one coming.

He drove across town to Bud’s Brew House, the darkest, roughest beer joint he knew. Might as well test Kimberly’s resolve to go slumming. Not to mention Bud served up the best burgers this side of Jersey City.