Model Soldier (7 page)

“Miss Price.” She shook his hand and then watched as he turned to Jai. “Mr. Devereaux. I’m Ryan Pettit. The captain sent me down to escort you.”

Pettit watched as the guards replaced Jai’s camera equipment carefully back in the trunk as he explained, “We send a soldier down to meet any photographers and reporters and then after a routine inspection of the equipment, we sign them in under our care.”

Emily breathed for what seemed like the first time since they’d pulled up to the gate. Jai sent her a look that said,
I told you so
, but she still had no intention of apologizing to him for being worried. The entire experience had been nerve-wracking and she would definitely yell at Katie at the earliest opportunity for not warning her about base procedure.

After a short interaction with the guards that included a nod, some salutes, and very few words, Pettit turned to them. “We’re good to go. I can ride in the backseat and direct you where to drive.”

Just having him in the car made Emily feel better. Kind of like they’d be less likely to shoot her if one of their own was seated behind her and in the line of fire. And Pettit’s smile and enthusiasm was infectious. Once out of view of the guardhouse, she began to relax.

“The captain didn’t go into any detail except that you’re here for a photo shoot. So what are you here to photograph?” Pettit asked, sitting in the center of the back bench seat so he could both give Jai directions and talk to Emily.

“It’s a new marketing campaign to establish stronger branding for the US Army to raise public awareness and increase recruitment,” Emily turned in her seat and recited verbatim the goals Katie had developed for the campaign.

Pettit laughed. “Okay. Whatever you say… Turn right up here.”

Jai nodded and did as he was told, driving at a snail’s pace, which also helped to calm Emily’s nerves after the hour and a half speed-of-light drive from the airport in Munich.

“I don’t know much about marketing and stuff but branding means logos and slogans and things, right? But the Army already has all of that including great slogans like
Be all that you can be
and
Army Strong
. So are you going to change all that?”

“No, just reinforce it and make it stronger,” Emily reassured him since he seemed very attached to the existing slogans.

Pettit nodded. “How you going to do that? Make it stronger?”

“By giving the Army a face the people can relate to.”
Hawk’s face,
Emily thought. “One soldier that will represent all of you.”

“Really? Cool! So who…?” Pettit’s question was interrupted. “Oh, wait. I missed the turn. That’s okay. Turn left at this corner and then left again. It’s the first building, right there on the corner. You can just park at the curb.”

As soon as the car stopped, Pettit jumped out and opened Emily’s door for her. Military guys were so polite. She got a tingle again in anticipation of meeting Hawk.

“I’ll run in and tell the captain you’re here then come back out and help you unload your equipment. Captain has a room cleared for you to set up in and you can leave your stuff there overnight if you want, it’s secure.”

And with that, Pettit was off and Emily had opportunity to consider just how sweet soldiers were…at least the one’s without guns who weren’t searching her.

What the …?

Hawk shoved aside the letters from home he’d been handed two days after they’d returned to Hohenfels from the training in the mountains. He’d flung the letters unopened on top of the blanket of his rack when he’d noticed the orders among them.

Sitting down heavily now, he read again the “special assignment” he’d let Pretty Boy talk him into betting. When it hadn’t shown up immediately upon his return, Hawk had deluded himself into thinking this mystery assignment had been Dalton’s idea of a practical joke.

No such luck.

“No. No fucking way.” Even reading it again didn’t change the contents.

“What’s up, Hawk?” Wally poked his head in through the open doorway.

Hawk looked up at Wally guiltily. “Um, nothing. Just a, um, letter from home.” He folded the paper again hoping Wally would think it was a letter even though it looked far more like orders than mail.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just um, my sister. She’s uh, dating some idiot. No big deal.”

“She cute, your sister? Give her my address. We can be pen pals.”

Lie or not, Wally the Womanizer dating Hawk’s sister, or even being pen pals, was
not
going to happen, at least not during Hawk’s lifetime. “Yeah, right, ‘cause you would be a real improvement over her dating an idiot.”

“Damn right, I would. Besides, chicks love me. You got a picture of her?”

“Get out of here, Wally, and let me finish reading my mail.”

With a grin Wally said, “Just keep me in mind.” Then thankfully, he was gone.

With the sole determination that he was getting out of this assignment if it killed him, Hawk headed out to find someone of some authority the moment the coast was clear of Wally and his curiosity.

There was no way he was going to do this. No way his superiors would make him do this. Why should he have to follow orders that Dalton and Coleman had somehow finagled? After all, this wasn’t a real assignment. He wouldn’t be saving lives or even taking them, but instead… Hawk shuddered at the thought of what he would be doing.

Fucking Dalton
. No wonder he’d looked so smug about this mystery assignment, and it made total sense that he’d already done it himself. Damn white-toothed fancy boy probably enjoyed it, too.

Thinking back to his last discussion with Pretty Boy and the Zetas, as he’d come to think of them, things started to make more sense. Coleman’s mention of female fans attacking Dalton. Blake saying he couldn’t do it because he was no longer regular Army.

Fuck. He’d walked right into this. He would never, ever agree to something without knowing all the details again.

Hawk’s body was nearly shaking, vibrating with tension by the time he got to what was affectionately called the Head Shed because the company commanders hung out there. And as hoped, he found his captain in the Company Orderly Room.

“Sergeant Hawkins! Pleasure to see you back.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. Captain, can I, uh, speak with you for a moment?”

Ignoring him, Hawk’s company commander began explaining things to another captain seated next to him. “Sergeant Hawkins and his guys had a little fun in the Alps with some of Hank’s boys the past few days. In fact, Hank called to compliment me on how exceptionally well the squad did during the training.”

Uh, oh. “Hank’s boys, sir?”

“Yeah. Hank Miller. He was the training commander up there with you.”

“Yes, captain. I met him. I, uh, wasn’t aware… You know him, sir?” And are on a first name basis, no less. Great, just great.

“Oh, yeah. We were deployed together once upon a time, back when he was regular Army. Then he moved on to Delta Force, and from there, onto ‘the teams’ as he calls the boys in black.”

“I wasn’t aware of that, sir. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, sir, the training and the, uh, other thing.” Hawk held up the folded orders in his hand, wishing his company commander would ask the other captain in the room to leave so they could have some privacy.

No such luck. His commanding officer laughed.

“Oh, yeah.” To Hawks great dismay, his commander turned to his neighbor again, lips flapping. “You won’t believe this! Sergeant Hawkins here has been chosen to be the face of the modern Army for some feel-good marketing campaign. They figure by plastering his mug all over the press, everyone will get the warm and fuzzies about us and what we’re doing.”

“To what end?” The captain’s cohort finally spoke.

“Increase awareness. Encourage recruitment. Enlighten folks to our efforts for stabilization and rebuilding. Supposedly they had a similar campaign for the SpecOps last year that was incredibly successful for recruitment and public relations. That’s what Hank said when he sold the idea to me on the phone, anyway.”

So the miraculous appearance of Hawk’s orders hadn’t been all Dalton’s doing at all. It had been Dalton’s former commander Hank Miller helping, too. At least Hawk felt a bit better that Pretty Boy and his computer god weren’t all powerful. But still, the chances of his getting out of this incredibly embarrassing and ridiculous assignment were looking slim.

“Sir. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m not some male model. I’m a trained soldier.”

“Exactly. That’s why they want you. They don’t want a hired head. They want a real warrior.”

“Forgive my asking, sir. But have you seen the guy they used for the SpecOps ads? Because I have. He’s some pretty boy who looks like he belongs in those perfume ads you see on television. I look nothing like that.”

“Thank god for that. I don’t want some fancy boy representing my Army.” The captain shrugged. “The marketing people chose you, sergeant. I have to trust they know what they are doing.”

Bullshit.
Dalton
had chosen him, out of spite, not some marketing expert. And how that all fit together, how Dalton got to choose the new face of the Army, Hawk still wasn’t sure.

“But how am I going to do this thing when I’m downrange? I’m deploying forward with my guys in a few weeks.”

The company commander shook his head. “Not a problem. They’re already here.”

Here at the garrison
,
here? And
who
exactly was here? Hawk’s heart jumped. Perhaps he’d misunderstood. Before totally panicking, he decided to clarify first. “Sir? Who’s already here?”

“The photographer and the marketing person. I just got word from the gate that they’ve arrived. I sent Sergeant Pettit down to get them and escort them here. In fact, they should have arrived by now…”

Pettit?
No, no, no, no!

How the hell was Hawk going to keep this thing a secret if Pettit knew? The teasing would be relentless. Soldiers never forgot. He’d have to live with this forever, until the day he died, which would hopefully be soon.

And with that thought, Pettit flew through the door. “Captain. Your civilians are here, sir.”

Pulling Hawk aside, Pettit whispered with a smile, “Hawk. Wait until you see this marketing chick. She’s one hot number. Mmm, Mmm. I like me a blonde.”

Great. A woman no less. Hawk got to embarrass himself and play model in front of some blonde as well as his team leader Pettit. Just perfect.

Pettit, practically bouncing in his boots, turned back to the captain. “Sir. Miss Price was telling me about the ads. Do you know who they’re going to use as their model?”

Hawk’s heart leapt. Pettit didn’t know. Maybe there was still hope…

The captain’s face broke out into a huge smile, and all hope fled. “You’re standing next to him, Sergeant Pettit.”

Pettit’s eyes opened wide as he looked at Hawk. “You mean Sergeant Hawkins, sir?”

With a disgusted sigh, Hawk nodded and admitted, “Yeah. It’s me.”

“Wow! My staff sergeant is going to be the face of the Army. How cool is that?” Pettit grinned, looking totally thrilled.

Hawk stifled a groan of dismay. “Yeah, great. Real cool.”

Somewhere far in the distance, Hawk imagined he heard Dalton laughing.

Chapter Seven

Yes, Staff Sergeant David “Hawk” Hawkins was a lot of things alright, and to Emily’s vast and bottomless devastation, so far none of them good.

He had the muscles she’d dreamed of, but along with them came a truckload of testosterone-fueled bad attitude. He was every inch the serious warrior his picture had hinted at, and he was also as stubborn and unyielding as a mule.

The Neanderthal before her, the Hawk himself, folded burly Popeye-like forearms across his chest and waited expressionlessly as Jai set up the equipment. But beneath the cold, steely exterior, Emily sensed molten anger bubbling just below the surface.

She’d tried to be friendly, but her overtures had been met with what amounted to a grunt followed by one long rude glance that covered her from head to toe and all the parts in between. Feeling exposed after that look, even in her cashmere turtleneck, wide-leg wool trousers, and leather boots, she couldn’t resist the urge to cross her own arms over her chest. Boy, was she glad she’d chosen pants over a skirt. She didn’t need him ogling her legs, too.

Maybe all this attitude was because he was just resistant to the assignment. Katie had warned her that could be the case. That would account for the standoffishness. And maybe it was partially her own fault, she was so used to working with sensitive, artistic, metrosexual straight guys or openly gay males, she simply didn’t know what to do with a real manly man when she came across one.

Maybe that was the problem with her dating life, too. Something to think about…later. But right now she had an unhappy hulk of a male to handle. If only she could get him past this.

He was handsome, though in a rough and ready kind of way. Hot, actually, with dark hair cropped close to his head, deep eyes that openly mirrored his emotions (which was not exactly a plus at the moment), and a body so big that it would definitely let a woman know she was being held.