Semper Fidelis (17 page)

Captain Sean Kelley glanced up, his eyes narrowed at the sight of three soldiers guiding a blindfolded Middle-Eastern man wearing the traditional tan
shalwar kameez
. His dark brown
waskat
vest looked a bit rumpled and was tinged with dirt. His
pakol
hat was askew and also covered in dust. They continued past Kelley’s window and down the main hall of the office complex to the interrogation rooms. Behind the group, a lone young man with olive skin and dark hair—another local most likely—strode, his gait sure, his steps never faltering. His gaze caught Kelley’s, holding it longer than necessary.

Kelley glanced away, pretending to focus on the papers on his desk. He looked up, not taking his eyes off the group until they were too far down the hall for him to keep up with their progress. They were heading to Room Three, the only room without cameras.

Working intelligence, he sometimes caught flak from the other men—Marine Intelligence seemed to be an oxymoron but they did good work. The interrogation in Room Three must be above his pay grade. He hadn’t been informed, which meant he didn’t need to know. Curiosity about the guy following the crowd wove through him and he stood, moving to the door, watching after the group until they disappeared into the room.

Rafe, a lieutenant he worked with sometimes, tapped him on the shoulder. “So you in on that bit of intelligence, Green?”

Kelley shook his head. “Above my pay grade.”

“Heard he was the one behind the bombing—knows a bunch of stuff.”

Kelley nodded then strolled over to the coffee pot, pouring a fresh cup. “Who was following them?”

“Local translator. We’ve used him before. He’s on base a lot. I asked about him once and was handed a mop and a bucket. Just accept that he’s supposed to be here.”

“Interesting.” Kelley moved back to his desk, focusing on work, trying to ignore the men who’d disappeared into Room Three earlier. So much went on behind the scenes that he wasn’t privy to. Before joining up, it would have bugged the hell out of him to see people coming and going without finding out who they were. Now, he knew better than to ask. He took things outside his job at face value—he had his fill with his assignments, delving into people and things he really didn’t want to know about. The hours flew by, and the interrogators were half forgotten until the translator showed up in his office, his eyes downcast, his posture submissive. “Excuse me, sir?” His thick accent had Kelley tilting his head and pinching his eyebrows together.

“Yes? Can I help you?” Kelley pushed away from his desk, looking up into the most beautiful dark brown, almost black, eyes he’d ever seen. He stood and stepped around his desk, needing to get closer to the man.

“I—we need”—the man paused, as if searching for a word—“coffee.”

Kelley nodded and smiled, reaching around the man to open the top drawer of the file cabinet. He should have asked the small man to move out of his way, but he wanted to get
closer to see what the guy smelled like, and he wasn’t disappointed. The scent of fresh soap, a bit of dirt and a tang that was pure male clung to the man. Kelley wanted to take another whiff but knew it wouldn’t go unnoticed. “I’m Kelley—the guys call me Green.”

The man nodded, his lips curving up just a small amount before bowing his head a little then catching Kelley’s gaze again. “I am Akim.”

“Nice to meet you, Akim. How many cups do you need?”

“Um—
salore…
I mean, four.” Akim held up his hand, showing four fingers.

“Okay, we can get those for you.” Normally Kelley would have pointed to the cups and grunted, not caring if the guy was able to get the cups on his own, but he needed to help Akim. Thanks to Rafe, they had a huge pot of coffee on the warming plate—almost full and un-burned, just the way he liked it. He grabbed two mugs from the filing cabinet drawer and handed them to Akim. Their hands brushed, sending a warm burst through Kelley. He glanced to Akim’s face, noticing his cheeks had darkened a bit and his gaze shifted away. Kelley felt a bout of protectiveness wind through him, twisting in his gut. He grabbed two more mugs and led Akim to the little coffee station he’d set up when taking over the office. It blew him away that none of the other men who’d cycled through the office before him had bothered to install a coffee station, but he couldn’t live without cups of java to keep him going.

To help pay for his addiction, he’d placed a glass jar beside the pot, asking for donations. Most guys threw in a quarter or a dollar, telling him it was worth the extra money since he bought fresh beans, grinding them in his tent daily before coming to work. The men and women working in his office appreciated the little luxury. At another post, they had more indulgences and having special coffee wasn’t as important, but here, where the space was cramped, the rats were huge and the chance of stepping on an IED was off the charts, having gourmet coffee hit the spot.

Akim poured two cups then sucked in a breath as he searched in his pockets. “I do not have American money to pay.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll cover you.” Kelley chuckled under his breath. “Actually the money request isn’t for guests, just the guys who work here. They’d drink all of my coffee and leave nothing for me.”

“Ah,” Akim said, taking a sip from one of the mugs.

Their gazes met and Akim swallowed then looked away. “Thank you. I can—I can get the rest.”

Kelley started to say no, that he’d grab them but he hesitated, allowing Akim to figure out how to get the coffees to the rest of the men. He went back to his work, trying to ignore Akim—but he couldn’t for long, taking quick glances as Akim retrieved the last two coffees.

Pushing away thoughts of Akim, he finished out his day, heading home—well, if you could call the tent used for barracks in Afghanistan home. He ate dinner in the mess hall then curled up on his bed, listening to The Beatles as he drifted off to sleep.

* * * *

New information came to Kelley, leaving him working eighteen hour days tracking down leads. By the time the commander of US forces in Afghanistan was due to arrive, Kelley had forgotten all about Akim and the interrogation that had happened two weeks earlier. General Davis was stationed at a larger base in Afghanistan, one with more security, but today he was headed to the edge of sanity, one of the forward operating bases or FOBs. Kelley had been assigned to assist the general during his stay, and because the general was going to meet with a few locals, a translator, Hariam, was assigned to them, as well. Though it might look like a cushy assignment and he’d get buzzed for hanging out with the brass, the potential risk was huge. Kelley would rather spend the day cleaning the latrine than keeping Davis from getting killed.

Kelley grabbed a Glock from the weapon’s chief and headed out to meet the general’s plane, stepping out of the office and running into a small, but compact man. Kelley grabbed onto the other guy’s shoulders, holding him steady. The young man glanced up, his dark eyes wide. Recognition wove through Kelley and lust fired deep in his belly. “Akim, what are you doing here?”

Akim blinked twice, his dark eyes searing straight through Kelley’s soul. He saw something in the depths, but what? It had been a long time since he’d dated. Honestly, dating and being a soldier in the intelligence community didn’t really go hand in hand—at least not when he was stuck in the middle of the Afghani desert with a bunch of straight guys, or guys who were too low in rank for him to touch. He couldn’t date any of the guys serving with him, not without causing concern. It was rough being gay, but the straight guys in his unit had the same issue. No girls to date. So they were just a bunch of mangy old guys jacking off in the privacy of the bathroom stalls if they got a free minute. There were a few circle jerks, but he wasn’t a part of that crowd and didn’t want to be.

“I am to help with the guest on base today.”

Kelley glanced away then back to Akim. “I thought Hariam—” Kelley groaned and shook his head. “You do know how sensitive this is?”

“Yes, sir.”

Akim stared up at him, his eyes wide. He could drown in those dark eyes. Kelley nodded curtly, covering the desire burning through him. “Fine. I hear the plane. Let’s go meet the general.”

They loaded into the jeep, staying silent as Kelley drove to the airstrip. The general’s plane landed and taxied over. Akim kept his eyes on the ground and Kelley took a moment to study the man. Today he was dressed all in dark blue, the sleeves of his tunic casually rolled up at the cuffs, exposing his forearms. He wore a black rubber diver’s watch on his right wrist and a red braided cotton bracelet on his left. His olive skin was covered with a light dusting of dark hair. Kelley wanted to skim his hand over Akim’s arm to see how soft that hair felt.

Glancing up, Akim caught Kelley’s gaze. The sound of the plane and trucks faded away and for just a second, he felt like they were the only two people in the area. Kelley swallowed, trying to forget about the desire coursing through his veins.

“We should step out and meet the general.” Akim’s voice slid over Kelley like soft velvet.

Kelley nodded looking away. “Yeah, we should.”

Unlike some of the VIPs Kelley had met since arriving in country, Davis wasn’t an ass of a man, making the day go fast. Akim stayed in the background, keeping quiet as he and Davis talked and moved around the base. Really, the meeting could have gone to hell more than once. By lunch, everyone on base knew the general was there and, since they had met with several of the elders, by evening the rest of the town knew about Davis and his visit. It was time for Davis to leave before the security on the ground became unmanageable.

As the plane taxied down the runway, Kelley leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. The only thing that would make this day complete was a tall, cold bottle of beer. The sun had already sunk below the horizon and he was ready for bed. He was exhausted from making sure Davis stayed safe—a beer would knock him on his ass, and wasn’t a possibility anyway. He’d need to check on his desk before he turned in for the night.

Luck had shined on him today. Having a general killed on his watch would have sucked, and he wondered vaguely what sort of paperwork that would require. Knowing the Marines, they had a requisition form for ordering new generals. He snorted at the thought. God, he was tired.

He’d almost forgotten Akim was still with him when he heard the soft intake of breath. Kelley turned his head to the side, seeing Akim staring at him. Neither of them moved. The night sky was filling with stars and a tiny sliver of the moon was starting to show at the horizon. Soon the landscape would be awash with the bright moonlight, but right now, in the dark of the vehicle’s cab, he and Akim had privacy. He wanted to know more about this man but already he was pushing the envelope.

Being in the Marines had been a dream of his for ages. Back when he’d signed up Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell had been in force and just staring at Akim like this could have gotten him a dishonorable discharge. Forcing his desires on a local man wouldn’t fly. He was ready to look away when Akim leaned toward him—not much, but enough to signal his interest. Kelley mimicked his move, closing the distance between them.

He slid his hand over the seat, his fingers barely brushing against Akim’s hand. The gasp from Akim was loud and Kelley pulled his hand back, but Akim followed and leaned in close, his hand on Kelley’s knee. Heat swirled around them as desire pelted him. It was wrong to kiss a local. He wasn’t
that
type of guy. He didn’t take advantage of young men and he sure as hell never used his position to get what he wanted. But Akim was so beautiful, so tempting and he seemed exceedingly willing.

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