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Authors: Cat Johnson

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BOOK: Model Soldier
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The current situation made last week’s two days of training and live fire exercises in the field back at his home base at Hohenfels, even with the freezing temperatures and five inches of snow on the ground, look like a walk in the park. Compared to the conditions here in the Alps, that workout had been nothing.

The German Army prepared on the very same rocky terrain where Hawk had trained that day, many parts of which reportedly had up to four feet of snow. Hawk could only think that the Army sent them here because these were the same conditions they could expect to find in the mountains separating Afghanistan and Pakistan, the same region where Osama bin Laden’s boys still maintained a stronghold in spite of all the good guys’ efforts.

Today, Hawk’s unit had faced some supposedly elite Special Forces sent in by Central Command to play the part of the bad guys to ready them for Afghanistan.

CentCom’s handpicked golden boys were good, but not good enough. Hawk’s squad, ten soldiers plus himself, had grown to be one hell of a force. Good enough to whip this Task Force Zeta’s ass up and down the side of that god-forsaken mountain.

The sound of a door opening broke into Hawk’s thoughts. His eyes flew open in time to see the black-clad, gray-haired training commander enter the room.

Hawk took the commander’s offered hand and shook it while trying to ignore how much effort it took to even raise his arm from his side.

“Sergeant Hawkins. You did well up there today,” Commander Miller, the man in charge of this show, said by way of greeting.

They did
well?
They’d done fucking
great,
was more like it! But instead of voicing that opinion, Hawk inclined his head and accepted the compliment. “I can’t take credit for the complete molding of them, sir. I have one strong team leader and the other is decent. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but I’m working to fix that. Together, the team leaders and I have trained the rest of the Joes.”

He’d gotten them to where he needed them to be, acting together, their motions and movements fluid. They were efficient killers when needed, capable of identifying the enemy amongst a crowd and engaging only those who were combatants, following his orders without question or complaint and taking down the bad guys without hesitation or regret.

Commander Miller smiled and elbowed the man who had followed him into the room in the side. “Damn. I guess I shouldn’t have told you guys to go easy on them. I would have loved to see what they can really do. What do you think, Dalton?”

“The guys would have loved to play full-out, sir. I thought Bull would lose his mind, having to hold back like that. Maybe next time,” the Task Force Zeta Operative Hawk recognized as leading the opposing team in today’s exercise shrugged casually.

Hawk swung his gaze from this Dalton guy to the commander. “Excuse me?”

“Yes, sergeant?” Miller raised a brow.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Hawk sputtered, “You had your team hold back?”

“Nothing to worry about, soldier. I would never expect your squad to compete against Zeta when they play full out.” Miller slapped Hawk on the shoulder then turned to go after saying, “Go and get some rest. And again, good job up there today, sergeant.”

Anger-fueled and breaking all protocol, Hawk grabbed Miller’s arm. “Run the exercise again.” Then he added a quick, “Sir,” and then a, “please.” Although a little sojourn in the brig for insubordination would provide him some much needed rest, Hawk figured it was probably best to avoid it if possible.

Miller shook his head. “You won, son. There’s no need.” The commander’s eyes lowered briefly to Hawk’s hand, still on him. Hawk dropped his hold immediately, but not the subject.

“There is no victory for me if your team didn’t go full out. Do you really think the insurgents in Afghanistan will be holding back when they face my men?” Hawk stifled anything else he might have wanted to say before he did end up in the brig.

An amused look crossed Miller’s face as his gaze moved from Hawk to his team leader for this exercise.

“Dalton?” Miller questioned the man with one word.

“He does have a point there, commander. And our guys would really enjoy being able to kick some ass unrestrained.” A cocky grin crossed pretty boy Dalton’s face, just begging to be knocked off with the help of Hawk’s fist.

“Alright, sergeant. I’ll call Commander Gordon back at the rear to confirm nothing’s come up that requires the team’s immediate attention. But barring that, you get your wish, soldier. I’ll see you and your squad back here at o-four-thirty.”

O-four-thirty.
His men were not going to be happy when he informed them they’d be traipsing around outside in god only knew how much fresh powder at o-dark-thirty instead of dreaming in their racks, and all because of him and his damn pride. Hawk mouthed a silent curse.

Dalton noticed and laughed. “You walked right into that one, Sergeant Hawkins.”

Yeah, he’d really like to slug this guy, alright. But for now, he had to go break the news to his men that they were not only spending one more night on this mountain, but they wouldn’t be doing a hell of a lot of sleeping during it either.

The commander’s words echoed in his head.
You get your wish, soldier.
Hawk’s final thought as a smiling Dalton closed the door of the office behind him was that he really had to remember to stop wishing.

Chapter Two

The problem with mothers was this—you had to love them, even when you didn’t like them very much.

Emily Price considered this as she felt her hand go numb from her tight, annoyed grip on the phone receiver.

Meanwhile, her mother continued to regale her with tales of exactly how wonderful Emily’s flawless sister Lily was for taking her shopping the other day, which Emily
never
did.

Perhaps that was because Lily and their mother both lived in Chicago, while Emily lived and worked, very hard she might add, in New York!

She didn’t bother bringing up that small yet pertinent fact. It would only restart another familiar ritual battle, that being why didn’t Emily move back home or at the very least visit more often?

For what? So she could feel inadequate next to her sister? Perfect Lily, whose hair had always been blonder than Emily’s, whose grades had always been higher, whose boyfriends had always been nicer…

“Emily Rose! I can tell you’re not listening to me.”

Uh, oh. Had she forgotten to mindlessly respond at what her mother felt was the appropriate time during her diatribe?

“Are you playing on that computer of yours again while I’m trying to talk to you?” her mother’s voice accused through the receiver held in Emily’s death grip.

Playing
. Yeah, because working for the busiest woman on the face of the earth, or at least on Madison Avenue, was all fun and games!

Resorting to base instinct as she held onto her temper and her sanity by the tips of her fingernails, Emily knew the time had come for fight or flight. She had to choose one and soon because she wasn’t going to make it on this phone call one minute more without blowing up.

“I’m sorry, mother. My boss really needs me. I’ve got to go. Call you back soon. Love you. Bye.”

She managed to stifle the long, loud, pent up groan waiting in her throat until after she’d punched the “off” button, using a bit more force than necessary to disconnect the call. Emily took one more glance at the display to make sure she really had totally and completely hung up before letting her head drop to the desk, again probably with more force than was wise.

After a bit, the slow, steady thudding of Emily’s head banging against the desktop ceased, leaving only the soft sound of her boss’ snicker. “How come I always have to be the bad guy who makes you hang up on your mother? I think I’m insulted. I’m a nice person. I would never do that for real,” Katie Jorgenson complained.

“Oh, shut up,” Emily moaned, forehead still pressed against the cool, smooth wooden surface. “You’re an only child, Katie. You can’t possibly understand what I go through with my mother and sister.”

“Now, now. I’m dating a man with eight siblings so I’ve gotten quite an education from BB in this area.”

Billy Bob Dalton, only the hottest as well as nicest man on earth…and he was Katie’s boyfriend. Another reason to hate her beside the lack of siblings, the perfect boyfriend. Emily groaned and resumed her banging until she glanced up through her tousled blond bangs and noticed her boss’ face had turned deathly white.

Emily sat up straighter in her seat to ask what was wrong just as Katie jumped up and threw her hand over her mouth as she ran from the room.

Brushing the hair absently out of her face, Emily leapt up to go after her obviously ill boss. “Katie?”

A muffled, “I’ll be fine,” was all Emily heard before the restroom door slammed shut behind Katie’s distressed face.

Frowning and concerned, Emily turned back to sit and wait for Katie to emerge so she could interrogate her further about the sudden departure when she noticed something strange sitting innocently on her boss’ cluttered desk.

She was still leaning on Katie’s desk holding the object in question when the ailing woman finally returned.

“What is this?” Emily asked slowly and deliberately, holding up her evidence and probably being meaner than she should to a woman who was obviously suffering.

Katie’s face paled once again. “Um, that’s my coffee mug.”

“Yes, it is your coffee mug,” Emily agreed enthusiastically. “And you love coffee. You can’t live without coffee. You grind your own beans, for god’s sake. So why, oh why is there tea in your coffee mug? Herbal tea, no less,” Emily asked, sniffing the minty aroma, already sure of the answer.

Strutting forward on still visibly wobbly legs, Katie grabbed the mug from Emily’s hands. “A person can try something new once in a while. Can’t she?”

Katie sat down heavily in the desk chair, slumping rather than displaying her usual perfect posture that went along with the perfect rest of her.

Realizing she was still beneath Emily’s scrutiny, Katie avoided eye contact, studiously shuffling a few papers on her crowded desk as she asked, “Where is that file for the Army ad campaign? You know, we still need to find a model for that…”

“Stop trying to change the subject,” Emily accused relentlessly.

Still not looking up, Katie said unconvincingly, “Jeez! An inquisition over a little cup of mint tea.”

Emily smiled knowingly and made her way to the small kitchenette in the office. There they stored the necessities in case they had to throw together a quick show of hospitality for some big client or talent on the spur of the moment. The fridge was always stocked with bottled water, both bubbly and flat, an assortment of fruit and cheeses, champagne and chardonnay.

But what Emily needed was in the cabinet. She reached past the bottles of red wine on the lower shelf to grab a box of unopened, plain water crackers from above.

Dropping the box on Katie’s desk, Emily instructed, “Eat some. It will help. My sister couldn’t get enough of those when she was pregnant.”

Katie looked up at her guiltily. “How’d you know?”

Emily raised a brow and ticked off the proof on her fingers. “Hmmm. I don’t know. Turning green and running for the bathroom, no more caffeine for the coffee junky…”

She paused and waited for Katie’s imminent apology.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, Em. I haven’t told anyone yet except BB.”

“Why? You know you can trust me. You can tell me anything and I’d take it to the grave. That’s what assistants and
friends
are for.”

Tears glistened in Katie’s eyes. “I know.” She paused and looked around the office helplessly until Emily handed her a tissue. “Thank you. And it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s my body I don’t trust. Em, I’m forty! I’m too old to be pregnant with my first child.”

“No, you’re not! How old was BB’s mom when she had him?”

“That doesn’t count, he was her ninth.”

“That doesn’t matter. And besides, things are different nowadays. Women are having babies into their fifties! Modern medicine has all these tests and stuff. It’s perfectly safe.”

“This coming from a girl in her twenties with nice young eggs and a good firm uterus,” Katie laughed tearfully.

Emily rolled her eyes as Katie shook her head in despair and continued, “I’m just so afraid. BB doesn’t want to show me how excited he is because he knows how worried I am, but I know he is totally in love with the idea of being a dad.” She sighed deeply and heavily. “Em, what if I miscarry?”

“BB is totally in love with
you
, and he will continue to be no matter what happens.”

“I know that,
when
I can think straight. I’m just so emotional and irrational lately.” Wiping her eyes, Katie added, “I’m sorry to lay this all on you, Em.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. I’m here for you. You know that. But I’m sorry you’re feeling so badly. Where’s BB right now? I’ll cover work for you if you want to fly down to the base and visit him. That might make you feel better.”

Being in the arms of a hottie like BB would sure make Emily feel better.

Katie laughed at that. “No, no need for you to cover for me. He’s in the Alps, of all places. That flight is a bit too long for me at the moment. There wouldn’t be enough barf bags on the plane for a trip as far as Germany.”

BOOK: Model Soldier
3.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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