Morgan's Son (10 page)

Craig wanted to escape Sabra's interested gaze. He squirmed inwardly as she studied him curiously. Her face had softened considerably as Marie had continued the story. Why? Had she thought he was some kind of unfeeling monster who hated children? Apparently so—until now. He saw confusion and then understanding come to her eyes. He turned to Marie.

"I really don't think Ms. Jacobs is that interested in all this, Marie."

"On the contrary," Sabra said smoothly, walking toward them. "I'm very interested."

Just then, Marie's intercom buzzed. She leaned over it. "Yes, Jake?"

"Are Talbot and Jacobs out there?"

"Yes, they are. Want me to send them in?"

"Would you, please?"

Marie nodded to them. "Go on in."

Relieved, Craig was the first to the door. Out of habit, he opened it for Sabra. Old ways died hard, he reminded himself. In the Marine Corps, an officer always opened a door for a woman. Times were changing, but he didn't care. Noticing the surprise in her eyes, he smiled slightly.

"What's the matter?" he taunted.

She slowed and turned to him. "I'm surprised, that's all."

"Get used to it."

Sabra held his challenging stare and started to give a flip answer in return, but decided against it. Jake and the others were listening, and she had no desire to continue to dig at Talbot. It was time to put her responses toward him away and get on with the business at hand. She seated herself and watched as Talbot shut the door, then reclaimed his seat.

Jake folded his hands in front of him and looked gravely at each of them. "We've got some real reservations, and I think we should put them on the table for discussion."

Craig waited.

Sabra frowned.

"We feel there's a lot of antagonism between the two of you. That's not good for the mission. I'm worried, frankly, that you aren't going to listen to Sabra, Talbot. Tell me I'm wrong, will you?"

Craig shrugged. "I said I'd follow her orders. If I feel there's a different way, a better one, we'll discuss it."

"Sabra, how do you feel about that?"

"I don't have a problem with communicating, Jake. It's absolutely essential on a mission like this. I want to talk everything out beforehand."

"All right," Jake said, his features reflecting a degree of mollification. He turned to Talbot. "We all have the impression you don't really like Sabra."

Craig smarted at Jake's statement. "Then you're wrong," he snapped. "I neither like nor dislike her."

"Something's eating you about her," Jake prodded. "You tell us what it is."

Wrapping his hand around his cold cup of coffee, Craig said, "I don't like her high level of confidence. It could get us killed."

Sabra glared across the table at him. "My ‘high level of confidence' has often kept me and my partner from getting killed, Mr. Talbot. I think you've got this all wrong, frankly." Damn! Why couldn't she just stick to the facts? Why keep rising to his bait? Sabra closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, she held up her hands. "Hold it. We've got to stop this bickering. I have to stop making digs at Talbot." She opened her eyes and held his blunt stare. "I don't like it that you seem too careful. That can hurt our efforts as much as going off half-cocked."

"Neither of those ways will serve you," Jake warned darkly. "You two are going to have to talk at an impersonal level with one another and hash these things out. Sabra, you're right—you can't afford to pick at Talbot. He has a different operating procedure than you do, is all. That's not to say his way is bad. It's just different from yours."

"I know that," she said irritably. "And I promise to make the necessary compromises to ensure this mission is successfully completed and Jason is returned to Laura. That's all I want, Jake."

"I know," he murmured. "What about you, Talbot? Do you think you can compromise with Sabra, if it comes down to that? Or are you going to shove your way of doing things down her throat?"

Talbot's mouth quirked. "I'll compromise,
Randolph
."

"Then we have your word on this—both of you," Jake said, relief now evident in his voice.

A light knock sounded at the door. He scowled. "It's probably Laura." He looked at them darkly. "Keep your war between yourselves. Show her your best side. I don't want her worrying any more than necessary."

Craig stood as a small, thin woman with blond hair was ushered into the War Room by Marie. He was shocked by her haggard appearance—and felt an unwanted pang at the sight of the small blue blanket and stuffed squirrel she clutched to her. When Jake introduced him, Laura gave him such a warm, grateful smile that he temporarily forgot everything. Her blue eyes swam with tears as she reached out toward him.

"Marie says you're wonderful, Mr. Talbot," she whispered. She gripped his hand. "I'm so grateful you're taking on this mission. Here, I wanted to give you this. This is Jason's ‘blanky.'"

Craig gently took the very worn, obviously much-loved blanket from her. The figure of Winnie-the-Pooh was embroidered into one corner of the soft blue fabric, though it, too, had lost some of its color over the past five years. "Sure," he whispered, touched by her intense emotions, "we'll take it with us, Mrs. Trayhern."

"Oh…" Laura choked, pressing her fingertips against her lips and reaching out to touch the blanket one last time. "I pray you'll be able to give it to him. How upset he must be by now. Jason waited every night until his father got home. They are so close, Mr. Talbot. If—if you can give Jason this blanket, I just know it will help him. I know it…"

Sabra came around the table and gently placed her hands on Laura's frail shoulders. "We'll do our best, Laura. No one loves kids more than we do, believe me." She saw Talbot shoot her a dark look. Well, maybe he didn't like them as much as she did. Still, she felt intuitively that Craig loved children more than he let on. Why else would he keep bringing home gifts for Chris? He was such a strange, quixotic mixture of qualities, she had to admit she couldn't really read him. Talbot was highly complex—a man with a lot of secrets.

Sniffling a little, Laura patted Sabra's hand. "I know you'll do everything you can to bring Jason back to me. I know how much you love him, Sabra. Here's his favorite toy."

Sabra felt tears in her eyes and swallowed against a lump as she held the stuffed toy in one hand and gripped her friend's shoulders more firmly. "We'll bring him back, I promise you."

Embarrassed by her tears, Laura whispered, "I'm sorry, Jake. I—I know I shouldn't be here, but I had to meet Sabra's partner. I—I had to be sure…."

Jake nodded and eased Laura out of Sabra's grasp. "We all understand, Laura. You can see that Sabra and Craig are the best people for this mission."

Taking a handkerchief from the pocket of her suit, she dabbed at her eyes. "Y-yes, I do see that."

"Come on, you need to go home now, Laura. You need to rest." Once again Jake led her out of the room. Killian and Wolf followed.

The minute they were alone, Craig rasped angrily, "You had no right to promise her anything!"

At the intensity of his whispered words, Sabra felt as if she'd been struck. His eyes blazed. Taking a step back, she retorted, "It's too late to take it back, isn't it?"

Craig gripped the small blanket in his fist. "You've set her up. You know that."

"For what?" Sabra flared huskily. "I just wanted to reassure her."

Bitterly, he thrust the blanket at her. "All you've done is foolishly raise her hopes. What if we can't get Jason? What if he's already dead? How have you helped her by being Miss Goody Two Shoes?"

"I was trying to help her, that's all!" Sabra's heart was pounding furiously in her breast. "I'm not the ogre you are, Talbot. Maybe you don't believe in hope. Well, I do! And I'm damn well glad if I can give some to Laura."

"It's one thing to offer hope," he snarled, "and it's another to promise something we may not be able to deliver. You crossed that line, Ms. Jacobs."

Breathing raggedly, Sabra held his stare. In that moment, she realized she was coming up against the hard-bitten warrior—a man who wasn't about to back off. In some ways, his harsh response was reassuring, because Sabra wondered if he had the guts to remain staunch when a situation demanded it. On high-risk missions, that kind of endurance counted. She turned the blanket in her hands. "Okay," she whispered, "maybe I did go overboard. Laura is more than an employer to me. She's been my friend for five years. I love Jason as if he were my own boy…."

Craig placed his hands on his hips and watched her face soften, heard her voice went low with pain. "I hate it when missions involve children."

Sabra looked up and was shocked to see his undisguised anguish. The change was as startling as it was breathtaking. No longer was he the avenging warrior, anger blazing in his eyes. Looking down at the blanket and touching it softly, she whispered, "I'm so scared, Craig."

Craig frowned. His hand twitched with the need to reach out and touch her. But he stopped himself. "Of what?" he demanded hoarsely.

"Of—" Sabra risked everything and looked up at him as she crushed the blanket to her breast "—of failing. Oh, God, I know how much Laura loves Jason. I know what the boy means to her and Morgan. What if—what if he's dead?" She searched Craig's stormy eyes for an answer she knew he didn't have.

"Look," he said roughly, placing his hands on her shoulders, "you can't flail yourself with that stuff. Just shut it off. We've got work to do." He gave her a small shake. "You can't blame yourself, whatever happens." He stared deep into her moist eyes. "You know that, don't you?"

Sabra felt the bite of his hands on her shoulders, felt his courage, his steadiness, for the first time. It was shocking, his touch, which communicated strength as well as gentleness. She hadn't thought Talbot possessed those qualities. As she forced herself to look up into the deep blue of his eyes, she recognized in him a unique type of strength that was different from—and complementary to—her own. His hands were warm against her blouse, and she felt their heat radiations through the silk to touch her frightened heart.

"I—I want you to know," Sabra said brokenly, "that this is the first mission I've been on that I've had a personal stake in. I've never had a connection with the people on a mission like I do with Jason…with Laura. I felt for the families involved, of course, who hoped we could help them. But this is different, Craig."

"I know," he murmured wearily. Forcing himself to release her, because if he didn't, he was going to do the unthinkable—wrap his arms around her and crush her tightly against him—he allowed his hands to slip away. The need for Sabra, for her raw strength and courage almost overwhelmed him. Craig took a step back. "Look, I'm rummy with exhaustion. I can barely stand, and I sure as hell can't walk straight anymore. I need to get over to my apartment in Fairfax, shower, change clothes and shave."

Sabra felt bereft when his warm, strong hands lifted. She stood, swaying slightly, the child's blanket pressed tightly to her. The look in Craig's eyes startled her. Heated her. For just a moment, there had been a change from darkness to gold in their depths as he'd looked down at her. Her mouth dry, she stammered, "Why—why don't I drive you? You're too tired to drive yourself. Everything I need is here and I've had two days' rest. Maybe when we get on that flight to
Hawaii
, you can sleep."

His mouth twisted, and he rasped, "Planes and I don't get along, remember?" With a shake of his head, he added, "Let's saddle up. You'll drive my car for me?"

"Sure," Sabra said, gently folding the toy up in the blue blanket.

Craig was too tired to think or feel anything. "I'll give you directions. Let's go."

Sabra stood in the living room of Craig's small, one-bedroom apartment and looked around. Yes, he had furniture, but somehow the place felt empty. She spotted a couple of photographs on the television set and went over to look at them. As she leaned down to inspect them, she felt someone else in the room. Turning, she saw Craig watching her darkly. He'd come out of a quick shower, a towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist.