Summer's Night (9 page)

Chapter 15

"Did you call your mother?" Summer asked from the passenger seat, watching Night drive the rented silver truck.

"Yeah. On the way to the restaurant. She was relieved and told me to tell you she's very sorry for putting you through this."

"It's not her fault. I was going to call her, but I wasn't sure. Figured you would do so as soon as you could." She twined her fingers with his when he reached over, soaking up the physical closeness.

"Are you really okay?" Night asked, his gaze turning to hers for a long second before returning to the road.

"Yeah. I think so." She considered the question further. The day seemed like a blur of good and evil. Ever since Dillon had whisked her away to force her to eat, she'd perked up, feeling much more safe and secure, as if waking from a bad dream.

"All the same, is there anyone that you can stay with for a few days?"

You.
She clamped her mouth shut before the word could escape, refusing to appear clingy or needy despite her recent traumatic experience. All her life, she prided herself on independence and smarts, she couldn't lose that now, not in front of the man she so wanted to be with. "No. I have to work and care for my animals. My mother would take me in, but she lives three hours away in a tiny house. No room for the horses." She squeezed his hand. "Really. I'll be fine. I have Murphy to keep me company. Work keeps me too busy to give me much time to reflect."

He stopped for a red light, turning his full attention to her. "I'm sorry, Summer. If I had any inkling this would happen…"

She shushed him. "It's not your fault. Who could have known some crazy, desperate man would break in and start such a mess. I'm just thankful you came for me."

His jaw tightened while his lips thinned. "Of course I came for you. I wouldn't have let the bastard get his hands on you in the first place if I could have prevented it." He sucked in a breath, shoulders pushing downward. "Damn, Summer. You don't realize how I felt when Mother called me. I've never been that scared before in my life."

Scared? Night? The two seemed to go together like oil and water. Never had she met a man with more ability, confidence, and determination, all well earned. "I don't understand." Certainly, he would fear for his mother's welfare and well-being. Surely, he didn't mean her abduction.
You're putting words into his mouth.

"You mean a lot to me, Summer."

The soft words buoyed her heart.

"I know it's only been a few days, but I think we have the beginning of something. Maybe. All I know is when I heard you were taken, I felt like the sun exploded, leaving my world in darkness."

Lifting their joined hands, Summer kissed his knuckles. "I worried that I would never see you again. That I missed my one and only chance to tell you how I felt."

He swiveled the wheel of the truck, pulling into a nearby gas station, where he parked. Reaching up with his free hand, he cupped her cheek. "How do you feel?"

Summer sucked in a breath. "I think I might be falling in love with you." When he sat mute, she spurred forward. "I can't wait to see you again, talk to you. You make me feel special." She waved her hand. "I don't know how to explain it."

Releasing his grip on her fingers, he pulled his other hand up to bracket her face. His gaze bored deeply into hers. "I think of you all the time. Envision the future with you in it." Leaning in, he meshed his lips to hers in a tender show of affection. "I want to be with you. Now and for a long time to come."

Summer teared up. "Ditto."

He smiled, sealing his mouth over hers once more. Before they could get carried away, he pulled back, and set the truck into gear once more. "So, we're officially a couple?"

"Uh, huh. I think so. We could always run it by the guys to see what they think." She bit her bottom lip to maintain a straight face while teasing. She took his offered hand, clasping tightly. If he didn't insist she wear her seatbelt, she would have plastered up against him for the remainder of the trip. Instead, she made do with handholding.

Night snorted. "They would either drag us to Vegas for an Elvis chapel wedding or toss us in some oversized closet and throw away the key for a few days."

Odd, neither option sent panic racing up her spine. She crunched her nose at the idea of a Vegas wedding, but being locked in a room all alone for a few days without interruption, that had definite possibilities.

"What are you thinking?"

She smiled wide. "Just wondering what I would do with you for a few days, locked in a room, alone. I guess we could play checkers or card games."

"You play poker?" His eyebrow lifted.

"No. Don't know hardly anything about it, to be honest." The expression on his face sent her belly to a slow somersault. "Why?"

"Remind me to bring a deck of cards along."

"But I don't have any money."

"You won't need money, baby. Just a few clothes."

A heat wave blasted across her face. "Do I get a handicap? Like you half naked to start the game?"

"Sure."

Fanning herself, Summer let her mind wander down a few rabbit trails of depravity, all of them naughty and delightful. Her gaze darted to his fine body, lowering to lock on his groin.
Wonder if what they say about the size of men's hands…

Night chuckled. "Yes, it's true."

Startled, she stared at him, mouth-dropping open. "You can read minds?"

"Nah. I can read faces, though. Yours is pretty damn transparent, especially when you're looking at me like I'm a side of beef and you've been stranded on a desert island living on seaweed for a year."

"I bet you're tender and tasty." The words slipped from her mouth before she could filter her verbalized thoughts.

"You can nibble on me anytime you like," he threw out the challenge, backing it up with a wicked grin.

Oh, boy. Sometimes Christmas does arrive early.

* * * *

Night followed Summer into her house a while later, in no hurry to leave her alone. No matter how many times she claimed to be fine, he knew better. At some point, she would suffer after effects from her experience, either while asleep, during waking hours, or both. He prayed she could overcome this, quickly putting it behind her, in order to return to her peaceful existence. She'd never deserved to be involved in such a violent encounter, but, then again, most victims didn't. Whether it was fate or simple bad luck, they stumbled into something not of their making or fault and suffered for it.

Murphy bounced happily, plastering kisses across Summer's face, her tail wagging as if she hadn't seen her owner in a couple of dog years. Summer hugged the dog close, returning all the love and then some.

"Let's go outside, Murphy." Summer took her collar, nudging her to the front door.

Night brought up the rear, watching her play with the large canine as she headed toward the nearby gate separating yard from field.

She had called her neighbor on the drive home, explaining in general terms what happened, reassured her she remained fit and fine, and would be able to care for her animals that afternoon.

Three horses lifted their heads from grazing, spied them, then as a group hurried toward the barn, whinnying in eager greeting. The gray once again led the herd, his motion effortless and beautiful as he flowed across the land. The bay kept abreast, his trot a bit more ragged, but efficient. Domino, the black, cantered along, keeping pace. His swollen, front knees not slowing him down in his bid for dinner.

The sight took Night's breath away. He could almost imagine what his ancestors saw watching wild herds of mustangs cover the rocky terrain, a strong stallion protecting his harem of mares and foals from predators and other stallions that looked to his group with determined takeover ideas.

Summer busily poured bags of grain into different colored buckets, adding a variety of supplements to each. She topped the creation with a carrot in two containers and a cut up apple in the third. Lugging the items inside the stalls, she opened the door, allowing each animal to enter their own stall, heading immediately for their docket of food. No one pushed, shoved, or even stuck their head in the wrong room. Instead, they calmly marched into their private dwelling and started crunching away, content and placid.

With the quiet murmur of chewing in the background, Night watched Summer work. "I have to leave soon."

She glanced up at him while retying feed sacks. "You should be with your mother right now. She had quite the upset today."

The corners of his mouth hitched upward. "That's what she said about you."

Summer grinned, using a piece of twine to secure the final bag.

"I have to meet the guys early in the morning." He sobered, concerned about leaving her, but finding no other way to track down the man responsible and put him out of business permanently. "We have a job."

"You do more than simple security, don't you?"

He released a long sigh. She deserved to know the truth. After what she just experienced, he trusted her to keep his confidence and not fly into a fit of panic at the idea of his near mercenary status. "What I told you before is true. All the guys have strong special ops backgrounds. Necessary to perform our job."

She stared up at him, patiently waiting.

"We're Wind Warriors. A team I pulled together that accepts missions from the federal government to locate and wipe out ugly and dangerous vipers that the government can't soil their hands on or have their name attached to when we rid the world of a deadly criminal and their underground operation. Officially, we don't exist. In fact, only a handful of people in the top tiers of government know about us."

"What kind of missions?"

"Mostly taking out high level drug lords, but other assignments as well." He searched her face for any sign of censure or disapproval.

She stood, meeting his gaze strongly. Her dark brown eyes didn't waver. "Night, I realize now what you do and I'm very thankful for it. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know you have to pursue the criminals behind this whole mess, the sooner the better before they get wind of what happened. I'm okay with that and I'll be fine by myself. Promise."

"I wish this time could be different, that I could be with you during the days to come." Even as he respected her for her strength in the face of a difficult situation, he still fretted about her mental health, wanting nothing more than to camp out with her for the next few days to ensure himself she truly could recover from such an ordeal without deeply imbedded, lasting scars. Scars she wouldn't have if it wasn't for him and his family.

Her lips morphed into a sad smile. "I know. I would like that as well. But, in the real world, other things hold priority."

He sighed, running his fingers through his long hair, pushing the loose strands from his face. "You should be my priority." His gruff tone reflected the conflict he juggled inside.

She strode over, stopping right in front of him, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek. "Night, you truly are my hero."

Her soft words caressed his soul. "I'm just a man."

She shook her head. "You're an amazing man." Her fingers slid over his lips. "Listen. I'm not some weak woman who will faint at the slightest stench. I'm strong and I can do this. It's what I have to do. The same for you. You have to do your job, track down the bad guys, and bring them to justice before they can hurt anyone else. It's what you do, but more importantly, it's who you are. I wouldn't want you any other way."

He kissed her fingers, reaching out to cover her hand, holding it against his cheek as he nuzzled in a show of genuine affection.

"The warriors of old wouldn't stay home, hanging out in the teepee, while the other warriors rode off into the night to track down some enemy. You're a true legacy, Night."

He nearly choked up at her profound words, as it was he swallowed several times to clear the lump in his throat. Never had anyone praised him so sincerely and thoroughly, tapping into his deep respect and admiration of his ancestors. She touched him in a way he never knew could be possible while filling him with self-pride and fortitude to live up to her views.

He didn't have the heart to point out that the Navajo lived in hogans made out of wood and mud. Later, when he returned, they could sit down and share a history lesson. After the drug cartel ceased to exist.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers, pulling her snug against his body. She responded instantly, opening her mouth for a deeper exploration. He wrapped his arms around her, matching her passionate embrace until he broke away with the driving need for air.

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

She licked her lips. "Be careful."

"Always." Murphy trotted up, her long pink tongue hanging out as she panted. He reached out to pat the animal. "Take care of her."

He spun on his heel, heading out.

"Night?"

Pausing, he looked back over his shoulder.

"I love you."

He smiled.
When did such a small woman become the balm to my soul?
"I love you, too." That said, he strode to his truck, turned the engine over, and headed home before embarking on his latest mission, this one personal.

Chapter 16

"What's she doing here?" Loco gestured to a petite woman climbing out of a small dark green SUV.

"The boss said we have to play with the feds this time, like it or not. Ravini is ours, but the DEA wants their chance at any intel we might find," Night answered, stuffing his supplies in the large black duffle bag.

Spoon snorted. "Just because we're private, they no longer think we can carry off a computer or two?"

Night shrugged. "Who knows what they think. But for this one, she gets to tag along."

All eyes surveyed the woman, dressed in all black, accenting her bobbed light blonde hair. Her small frame put her well under the height of each man, a bit below the average height for a female.

"Mark my words. She'll slow us down and only get in the way." Spoon grumbled, zipping his pack shut.

A smile began to form on Night's lips. During the negotiations, he'd learned of her extensive background and abilities. She could hold her own, he had no doubt. Otherwise, he would have vetoed the order she tag along, as he did with a handful of others offered for the job.

Although dragging a female into battle prodded his moral code, he dared not question her skills, which damn near matched their own. Amazing for a female, even in today's open-minded military.

She marched up to them, a black bag slung over her shoulder. Bright blue eyes matched their gazes. "I'm Lark."

"She looks like a cheerleader," Loco mocked, his hard expression tightening all the more.

Instead of taking offense, she simply smiled. "West Point Cheerleading Squad. Captain my senior year. If you must know."

Muttered oaths carried across the vacated lot.

"You're fucking kidding me. We're taking a cheerleader on a mission?" Loco growled, his irritation obvious.

She rounded on him like a mother hen protecting her chicks from a hungry fox. "Listen, soldier. I may be small, but I'm more than capable of kicking anyone's ass. This isn't my first black ops mission, nor will it be my last. Just because I'm DEA doesn't mean I sit on my ass at a desk and punch a keyboard all day."

"Marine." Loco snapped in return but with less intensity than before.

Spoon snickered. "Anyone who wants to kick Marine butt at three am has my vote to stay."

Night shook his head, only partially amazed with Lark's defense of herself. In all honesty, she probably faced the same stereotypical male greeting for most of her military career, forcing her to either ignore it, let it eat on her, or get in a man's face. The aggressive response would have earned her points for courage and guts in a community that valued such traits highly.

"If we're all done with the posturing, can we move on?" She huffed, flicking those bright blue eyes across each and every man as if seeking another challenge to her position.

Cale chuckled. "Gotta love that in a woman. All business and kick ass."

"Gives me a hard-on." Spoon winked at her.

Dillon chimed in. "I like her. In fact, I want all my daughters to be just like her."

The men gaped at him as if he'd grown octopus tentacles from his neck.

She rolled her eyes before looking at Night. "How do you put up with them?"

He grinned widely. "I practice selective hearing."

* * * *

Without further incident they climbed into the large SUV, Lark voluntarily claiming the smaller backseat for herself. No sense in being crowded by oversized men with egos to match. Not that she expected anything different. For as long as she could remember, men met her with a variety of reactions, seldom flattering, and most of the time abundantly challenging. Even though more women than ever settled on careers in the military, it didn't mean the stereotyping or discrimination suddenly disappeared.

Her size and looks threw men off, usually leading to an offensive verbal battle. Came with the territory, she supposed. While most would consider it a nuisance at best and a limitation at worst, she reveled in the opportunities her looks afforded her. She could easily go undercover, dressing and acting the part of a lovely woman intent upon sinking her claws into a wealthy sugar daddy or play the dumb blonde act, completely deceiving those who underestimated the true woman underneath.

In all fairness, the Wind Warriors treated her better than most, despite one cranky Marine. Most Marines she'd met tended in that direction though. From what she gathered, these guys remained a close group, brothers in arms as well as in spirit. The bickering and bantering reminded her of her five older brothers.
A male thing,
her mother explained to her eons ago when she asked why the house remained in an uproar from one day to the next. She finally understood as she grew a bit older and wiser. Tough men tended to avoid showing affection with physical hugs and touching as women did. Instead, they preferred to tease and taunt, not only trying to outman the other, but as a show of solidarity. Only they could abuse one another. If another party tried, the group stood together as one, backing their friend to the end.

She could be working with a worse group.

"Where will Barbie be while we are infiltrating the compound?" Loco asked with a snort.

"Right beside you, soldier. And what the hell? Barbie?" She laid into Loco in crisp proper German only to have him retort in a more guttural slang version, which left her face burning at the sheer vulgarities he spat. Not defeated, she barked out an insult, calling Loco a hairless mongoose with diarrhea in Lakota.

Night not only chuckled, but commended her fluently in the tribal dialect.

She blinked in amazement. Every time she turned around, they threw another surprise her direction.

"Here. Memorize this." Night called from his passenger seat, passing a folded up paper to Cale, who handed it to her.

Opening the letter, she scanned over the contents, her mouth falling open. "What in the world? What language is this?"

"Navajo." He answered, turning halfway in his seat to look at her. "It worked in World War II, it works well for us now although in a lesser role."

Dillon chimed in. "Don't share that little tidbit. Boss here says if people start picking up on Navajo, we'll have to learn Klingon next."

The men groaned as a unit.

"Like Navajo wasn't hard enough. Klingon will be downright brutal." Dillon held his head as if it already hurt.

She blinked at the words, not sure her tongue and throat could even produce such sounds. "Wouldn't another language work just as well?"

"How many people do you know that speak German or Spanish?"

"Tons."

"Arabic?"

She thought about that for a beat. "A few."

"Navajo?"

"Before today? None."

"Exactly."

Taking the point, she perused the form again, shaking her head at even the phonetic version. "How long do I have to learn this?"

Night checked his watched. "Approximately six hours until we make contact with tango."

Good grief. No pressure there.

"The job this spring, where we destroyed the drug refuge in Sisk, thanks to Loco doing his Superman thing again. That was another middle man to Ravini. There was nothing left to trail the big man, but our little kidnapper opted to tell me all kinds of things about his boss and the operation." Night explained, glancing at several black and white photos.

The guys snickered. Lark refrained from rolling her eyes. She read between the lines all too well, not that she faulted the tall Native American for pressing the man who broke into his house, stole his woman, and terrorized his mother. Under the same circumstances, her brothers would line up behind their father, each taking a turn at the idiot. She would bring up the end of the line, prying the final bits of information out of him to ensure nothing even similar to that incident happened again.

He passed the photos back. "These are the best pictures of the layout we have. No blueprints exist that we can find. The cement walls appear sturdy enough to sustain and repel attacks. Mexican officials have been watching him, but with huge corruption issues money buys injustice, therefore the man runs free to pursue his drug career. The local officials are too understaffed and don't have near enough power to go up against him and his hired mercenaries. Underground passages probably exist, leading in all directions as emergency escape passages. I don't have to tell you how messy that might be if we have to go underground after them.

Spoon whistled low. "It's like Alcatraz. Minus the island feature."

"As there are armed guards at all hours, how are we going to go over the walls without being seen?" Cale stared at a photo, turning it this way and that. "Can't we just call in a favor and bomb the son of a bitch? Easier and more of a chance of us walking away."

"Yes and no." Night answered, glancing over his shoulder. "We have to assume they have radar and are able to pick up anything short of a stealth bomber or Black Hawk chopper flying too low to be picked up. Our contact doesn't have the power to call in either."

"Damn. Those things are so cool. It would be like sitting on the outskirts watching the Fourth of July after they dived in and out." Dillon commented .

"So we do what we've always done, become the wind." Spoon shrugged. "Although this will be tough."

Lark fingered through papers in her backpack, finding the ones she needed. "Here." Handing them forward, she sat back and waited.

Night's gaze flicked over them. "Where did you get these?"

"Classified." She answered automatically. Her photos beat theirs in contrast and detail, giving them a much better view on which to base their infiltration plans. Sometimes working for the federal government had its perks. Pictures fell into the pro column. "If you notice there is a secret entrance on the west side, a hidden cave that leads to one of the underground areas. On the north there is another, but it will be harder to access due to the number of guards and lack of natural camouflage."

The guys in the middle seat leaned forward, looking at the pictures Night held up.

"The cave entrance leads upward toward the main building. Just when you cross the foundation, there is a ceiling vent. A person can climb through it and access the entire ventilation system from there." She dug through her pack once more, pulling out a small box, anticipating their next question.

"We have jammers. That person could place a jammer near the center of security, knocking out all their radars and alarms for a few minutes." Night pointed out.

"I assume you have heat seeking equipment as well." Sitting forward, she pointed out where her supervisors believed the command center to be. "By looking for the largest concentration of personnel, we might be able to fine tune the location."

"Then what? Even if they are jammed, we will have to scurry in, fighting our way through multiple levels in order to track down Ravini. I suspect he will race for an escape route as soon as he's notified something is up. Those tunnels can be death traps for us."

"I may have a solution for that." She reached back, grabbed her box, and held it up for all to see. "Anesthesia gas. Not only can the jammer be set, but the gas can be released at the same time. It's colorless and odorless. By the time they realize they're sleepy, they will be out like a light. The drawback is that we have to wear gas masks and the effects only last ten to fifteen minutes."

Loco stopped at a red light. "Who's going into the vent system and doing all this?"

Lark plopped back down in her seat. "That would be me."

All the men turned to stare at her as a unit, their expressions ranged from shock to amazement to utter respect.

Undeterred, she supplied them with the reason. "I'm the only one small enough to fit through the vent."

More than one man sighed in defeat while Night's jaw tensed. Finally, he abruptly nodded. "It's our best shot."

For the first time, she smiled. "That's what my supervisors said."