Model Soldier (3 page)

Emily bit her lip. “Were you supposed to tell me that he’s in Germany? Isn’t where he goes top secret?”

BB was some sort of super secret military Special Operative.

“If it was classified he wouldn’t have been able to tell me, so I couldn’t have told you, now could I?” Katie rationalized.

That sounded reasonable enough, but working with the military on their marketing had been a lesson in rules, both rational and not. “Mmm. I guess so. Can I ask one more thing?”

“Sure,” Katie said, quickly trying to break into the crackers as she began to pale again.

After watching Katie struggle with the cellophane wrapping for about a second, Emily grabbed the box out of her hands, tore it open skillfully and handed it back. “Are there terrorists hiding in the
Alps
now, too?”

Katie swallowed a cracker and then laughed. “Not that I know of, but I suppose anything is possible nowadays. He said it’s just a training exercise. Commander Miller called a few guys from BB’s task force in to help train some Army guys. No big deal, he said. Nothing to worry about...” Katie’s voice trailed off softly.

Even though she had a long distance relationship with BB, Emily knew Katie did worry, each and every time her boyfriend and his mysterious black-clad task force buddies disappeared for an undetermined amount of time to parts unknown. With a baby added to the mix, that worry and the frequent separations would only be worse for Katie.

And that raised the next question that had yet to be answered. “What are you two going to do, you know, about getting married? I mean, it is totally cool if you guys don’t. People do that all the time, but…”

Katie laughed. “Don’t worry, Em. BB asks me to marry him every day, sometimes twice a day.”

Emily jumped up and down. “Yay! A wedding to plan! I love weddings.”

“Hang on just a minute. I told him I’ll only marry him if I make it past my third month without…you know.”

“How far along are you now?”

Katie wasn’t showing at all. Although, now that Emily thought about it, did Katie’s boobs seem to be straining the buttons on her shirt a bit?

“Eight weeks, closer to nine, actually, if the doctor calculated correctly, and I can barely ride in a car without getting carsick and my breasts hurt so badly they feel like they are about to explode.”

Emily nodded in sympathy. “Yeah, my sister said that, too. But, hey, you’re more than two thirds of the way to that three-month marker. Besides, I have a good feeling about this. You wouldn’t be having all these symptoms if that baby wasn’t planted in there nice and firmly, right?”

“I guess so,” Katie laughed.

“So we need to start planning, just in case. The good wedding places book up a year in advance or more…”

“No. No big plans, Emily. If this wedding happens, it will be small.”

Emily let out a snort. “He has eight brothers and sisters. Exactly how small can it be?”

Katie groaned and slumped lower in her chair. For a high-powered New York marketing executive, her boss could sure be an introvert. “I know. That’s why I told him I want to elope.”

Emily’s face crumbled.

“Relax, Em. You will be there, even if we end up at a drive thru in Vegas married by an Elvis look-alike. I promise.”

Well, that was something at least. “Okay. Thanks.”
She guessed.

That she’d get to be there for the ceremony softened the disappointment a bit, but not enough. Emily thought longingly about all the missed opportunities to visit bridal shops and watch Katie try on long white, or perhaps off-white, dresses.

Katie laughed. “Don’t look so dejected. You’ll get your chance one day and then you can plan as big a wedding as you want for yourself. I’ll even help you.”

“Yeah, sure, cause the men are just knocking down the door to marry me.” Emily rolled her eyes.

Katie shook her head. “I’ve never seen such a bright, attractive, kind-hearted woman spend so many Saturday nights without a date.”

“Hey, that used to be my complaint about you,” Emily reminded.

“Yes, it was, but now you don’t have to worry about me or my love life anymore. I not only got myself a boyfriend, I also got myself knocked up. So go out and find yourself your perfect guy.”

“Are any of BB’s brothers single?” Good looks were genetic. The Dalton brothers would have to be at least as hot as BB.

Katie shook her head. “No, sorry. He’s the youngest. The rest are all married off already.”

Hmmm
. “Any of his military guy friends single?”

“No!” Katie exclaimed with warning in her voice.

Emily frowned at her. “Why do you say it like that?”

“Because one of us dating a Special Operative is enough stress. Believe me,” Katie said firmly, arms crossed over her chest. “Go find your own guy. A nice civilian businessman or maybe a construction worker. The city is full of them both.”

Maybe she didn’t want a boring old normal guy.

“Some help you are,” Emily grumbled and, feeling spiteful, went to pour herself a nice, big, steaming cup of caffeinated coffee, which she intended to drink right in front of Katie as payback.

Ha!

Chapter Three

What the hell?
Hawk frowned and counted the opposing team gathered at the rally point one more time.

“Problem?” There was that smug pretty-boy smile again on Dalton’s face.

Yeah, there was a frigging problem!

“Your team seems to have grown overnight,” Hawk pointed out, sounding much more casual than he felt about that fact.

He was sure his ten guys could take them, but that was still no reason to be happy Zeta was basically cheating by changing the rules mid-way into the game.

Pretty-boy Dalton nodded. “Ah. That. Yeah, when we told Jimmy—Commander Gordon—about your request that Zeta go all out, he insisted on not only sending the rest of the team over, but coming himself as well.”

And that put Zeta at a whopping seven men, three more than Hawk’s men had faced during the prior day’s exercise. On top of the extra manpower, they also had brought in some sophisticated computer shit and one of the new arrivals seemed to know how to use it as his fingers flew over the keys of not one but three laptops.

Noticing where Hawk’s gaze rested, Dalton commented, “Zeta wouldn’t be Zeta without Matt Coleman, the computer god over there, and all his equipment.”

Extra guys and state of the art equipment. Fucking cheaters. All Hawk and his squad had access to amounted to what were, essentially, basic walkie talkies.

Hawk let out a sigh and then noticed Dalton seemed to be waiting expectantly for his response to what really hadn’t been a question, but more of a boast that CentCom gave his men better toys.

Cocking his head, Hawk mustered a grin equal to Dalton’s. “If your team thinks they need all that just to beat us, then you go ahead and feel free to use it. My guys, however, don’t need anything more than what we had yesterday to beat you. Just our wits and our skill.”

Dalton broke into an all out laugh at that. “I admire your confidence, Hawkins. But…”

Hawk watched as Dalton broke off mid-sentence and seemed to be hearing voices in his head. Pretty Boy’s smile disappeared and the concentration became evident by the expression on his face.

When Dalton said softly, “BB here. Roger that,” Hawk was sure of it. Pretty Boy was definitely crazy or actually talking to someone or something in his head.

“As I was saying, Hawkins, I admire your confidence but there is no way your squad can beat Zeta.”

When Dalton continued with his insults as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, Hawk really got pissed.

“What the hell was that all about?” Hawk pointed a finger at Dalton’s ear to indicate the previous, more than strange occurrence.

Although Hawk could see damn well that it was all an act, Dalton pondered the ceiling for a moment as he seemed to consider his answer carefully.

Dalton was clearly fucking with him, playing mind games as he said, “Well, it is top secret, but I figure I can tell you since you’re going to need all the help you can get today.”

Tapping a finger lightly to his right ear, Dalton explained cockily, “Cochlear communications implants. Whole team has them.”

Fuck.

Hawk had heard rumors about SpecOps having communications devices actually surgically implanted in their frigging ears, but he’d thought it was bullshit. Maybe it was still all bullshit and Dalton was just messing with him.

But no, as Hawk glanced around the room he noticed more than one team member get the same glazed look and then respond to no one, including the damn training commander, Miller. One look at their supposed computer god told Hawk that Coleman was the puppet master, testing his toys, one by one. No wonder they’d needed him flown in for today.

“You still up for this?” Dalton asked with a gleeful smile, his perfect teeth nearly blinding Hawk with their whiteness.

Hawk was never one to back down from a challenge, no matter what the odds. “Hell yeah, I’m still up for this. You boys can talk to each other in your heads all you want, but you pampered SuperOps still won’t be able to hold up against battle-toughened soldiers trained with real-world mission experience.”

Hawk watched as Dalton rose nicely to that challenge.

“Oh, really? Perhaps you’d like to make this a bit more interesting. A little wager perhaps?” Pretty Boy suggested.

Sure. Dalton would want to make a bet since he probably took home three times what Hawk did in military pay, in addition to what was probably a huge Basic Allowance for Housing while Hawk made due with living in the bachelor barracks.

Hawk shook his head and swallowed his pride. “I’m not much into betting for money, Dalton.”

Pretty Boy nodded. “Fine. Not for money then. Something else.”

Hawk frowned. “Like what?”

The other man shrugged and then, as if a bulb had been turned on in his tiny Pretty Boy brain, Dalton’s face lit up as he looked Hawk up and down appraisingly, even pausing at the muscles in the arms folded defiantly across Hawk’s iron-pumped chest.

What the fuck?
Dalton was checking him out? Was Pretty Boy one of those “don’t ask, don’t tell” kinds?
Shit
. What the hell was Hawk supposed to do about that? He sure as hell couldn’t beat him up if he was a fancy pants.

Since Hawk had always been a straight shooter, as well as
straight
, he came right out with it. “Listen, you’re free to live your life however you want, but please tell me you’re not hitting on me, Dalton. Cause I gotta tell you, you couldn’t be barking up a more wrong tree if you tried.”

After a second of surprised silence, Dalton broke out laughing so hard he had to sober himself up before he could respond. “No, Hawk. You’re a real buff guy and all, but I’m as straight as you are and I’ve got a preg…uh…pretty girlfriend back home in the States to prove it. So no, we’re not betting for a date with you.” Dalton paused to chuckle one more time over that then continued, “But I did just think of a really good wager.”

So if they weren’t betting for Hawk’s masculine virtue, then what? “What you got in mind, Dalton? Out with it.”

Looking rather pleased with himself, Dalton said, “There’s this um,
special assignment
that needs filling. It requires just the right man. Let’s say that if your side loses, you have to take it, no questions asked.”

Hawk frowned. “If this assignment is so
special,
why haven’t you already filled it? Why doesn’t anyone else want it?”

“I didn’t say no one wanted it, just that it’s special and needs the absolute
perfect
soldier to fill it, and believe it or not, Hawkins, that may be you.”

“Well, I’m glad we both agree that I’m perfect, but I’m also on my way to Afghanistan for a year,” Hawk reminded him. Probably more like eighteen months the way things had been going lately. “Tell me this.
If
we lose, which isn’t likely, how could I possibly fulfill this assignment?”

“Easy. No problem at all. You can complete it before you go. Hell, you could probably even do it in Afghanistan if necessary. It’s a quick one. A day. Two at most.”

“You’ll have to give me a little more information than that. I’d have to clear this with higher up first.”
What the fuck could this be about?

“Nope. No more info until the exercise is over and all the details for the assignment are ironed out. Besides, it will be so much more fun for both of us if it’s a surprise.” Dalton tilted a head toward the bank of laptops. “And I’m sure Matt can get it cleared with your superiors by the time we get off that mountain,
if
you’re game, that is.”

Coleman
could get it approved with Hawk’s commanding officers?
How the fuck was that possible?
Maybe it wasn’t. This could all be more bullshit, in which case Hawk could agree to just about anything now and his superiors could shoot it down later, getting Hawk off the hook should he lose.

In any case, Hawk still had a nagging feeling he might have gone insane when he found himself agreeing to the gamble for this unknown assignment. “Oh, I’m game, Dalton. Not that we’re going to lose, but I’ll accept your little wager. The question remains, however, what do I get if, no,
when
we win?”