Tactical Deception: Silent Warrior, Book 2 (12 page)

“I asked if you’ve been to Hawaii.”

He swallowed and managed to nod until his brain could get words out of his mouth. She yearned to see Hawaii. He yearned for something different. Something he had no business even fantasizing about. “I have been there. Once and it’s—paradise. No other word can describe the…full effect of…of everything.”

He ran his gaze over her, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. God, she was so soft, so delicate. He wanted to know all there was to know about her in every way. She was paradise.

Her brow furrowed. “Why then? Why only go to paradise once?” Her question held confusion and something more.

Why had he never gone back?

“If it is truly paradise and you have the freedom in life to go when you want to, then why have you been only once? I would go as many times as I could.” She swept her arm up. The creamy silk of her sleeve fluttered and gleamed in the light like her butterfly and flower wind chimes had in the sunlight that day at her house. Two things clicked into his befuddled mind.

She must surround herself with butterflies because in so many ways she was like a butterfly trapped in a cocoon unable to fly.

And the reason he’d never returned to Hawaii was because he’d felt too painfully alone when he was there. Hawaii was for lovers.

Paradise was meant to be shared.

She stared up at him, waiting for his answer, her gaze so trusting. The urge to—

Roger’s cell phone rang, jerking him back from a ledge he could not believe he’d talked himself out onto. He let go of Mari’s hand and latched onto his phone, damn near kissing it in relief. “Hold on. Sorry, I have to take this,” he told Mari as he saw DT’s name.

Most of the team ended up with nicknames. Jack’s was DT for Double Tap. In training and then later in the field, Jack had the ability to shoot faster and more accurately in close quarters combat than anyone else. He never failed to nail a combatant with a double shot right between the eyes, and always spared innocent bystanders, even hostages disguised as terrorists. Somehow DT always knew who he was dealing with.

“Weston here.”

“I’m catching transpo to Fort McPherson in thirty.”

“Hey, whoa. What’s wrong? Something happen to Lauren or the kids?” Roger had a vague remembrance that Lauren had gone south for the weekend to see about selling her house.

“General Dekker hasn’t called you yet?”

“No. Is there a problem?” Roger expected that first thing in the morning General Dekker would, once again, be all over his ass about today’s events and asking questions that even Roger didn’t want to know the answer to. He was lucky Dekker had given him leave to stay with Mari for the rest of the day.

“I wish there was just a mere problem. You obviously haven’t turned on the news either. We’ve a major national crisis underway and Rico’s ass is right in the middle of it.”

“What do you mean? What’s happened in Atlanta?” Roger stood, indicating to Mari that he had to have a private conversation and moved into the great room. He snatched up the remote and turned on the news as DT filled him in on everything he knew. Roger sat on the couch, stunned. First the oil reserves destroyed by Menendez, now this? Snipers killing Americans all across the country?

Hell, was Menendez behind this too? Were the countries that walked away from the biofuel bargaining table behind this attack? They’d told President Anderson he’d regret his stance. Or was this retribution for the missile strike in Lebanon and the takedown of al-Qaeda’s number-two man? Had his actions brought this on his country? Roger was sick inside.

“I saw Dekker an hour ago and he said he was calling you then. So I don’t know what his delay is. He’s giving notice to the entire team that we are without question to keep our asses out of this. Period. Apparently that SOB SOO who gave Lauren so much grief and who’s been hounding every avenue he can to burn us since we got the better of him in Peru is in charge of the investigation down there.”

“I’m sure he hopped a plane the second Rico’s name came up in the system.” Roger had hoped the last call from his cousin’s chief of staff to the NCS’s director had put the SOO in his place.

“I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to nail Rico just to get to us.”

“They can’t believe Rico has anything to do with this.” Roger shook his head, trying to absorb the insanity of it.

“I don’t know.” DT sighed hard. “From what Lauren said, Rico has been isolated in interrogation at the police station since the shooting. I’ll find out more when I get there tonight. I’m bringing Lauren and the boys back here tomorrow. She’s fit to be tied that I’m coming to get her and the kids. But hell, I don’t care. I know she is fully capable of getting them all onto a plane, but nothing is sacred with these snipers. They’re shooting women and children. If anything happened to her or one of the boys on the way to the airport and I wasn’t there when I know how serious and unpredictable this sniper situation is, I would never forgive myself.”

“I know what you mean.” Roger glanced toward the dining room, seeing Mari through the open door.

“I will try and see Rico while I’m there.”

“Which is exactly what Dekker said for us not to do.”

“Well, he knows I am going to Atlanta and he didn’t say I couldn’t see or talk to Rico. He just said we were to keep our asses out of the investigation. Besides, I’m on medical leave, remember? So is Rico. And absolutely no one will see me coming or going.”

“Be careful” was all Roger could say before disconnecting the line. He couldn’t argue with DT’s logic. Still, he felt as if some element in the teams had shifted. Nothing was going by the book lately. Not since Lebanon. But then, everything that had happened since Lebanon and what was happening now were such extraordinarily unusual events he had to wonder if there was any way to deal with them by the book.

He’d been operating in a comfort zone for so long that having it stripped away from him left him scrambling…and maybe discovering for the first time who the man behind the uniform really was?

Mari cried out from across the room and Roger jumped up to see her looking at the TV. He turned and cringed. It was a video clip of her, clearly panicked and trying to run through the crowd. He snapped off the television, but she had already disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door. No doubt she was beyond mortified and crying that the world had seen her face. She’d sinned before the world. So minor a problem in comparison to the rest.

His country was under attack, but there wasn’t anything he could do to help at the moment. Rico might be in trouble, but Roger’s hands were tied until he could investigate the situation tomorrow and feel out Dekker’s stance on it. Roger knew without question he’d do whatever was necessary to keep Rico from being railroaded, but that wasn’t tonight.

Mari may not be his woman, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him from helping her. He’d made the decision to tear down the barriers between them in order to keep her safe and he wasn’t going to quit just because she’d shut a door, or more importantly because her appeal was putting him through all kinds of hell. She needed him.

He would not, could not, give up on making things right for her and the baby growing inside her.

But how could he help her? He didn’t agree with the strictures that had her so horrified at being seen with her face uncovered.

He also didn’t need to be anywhere near his bed again whenever she was within reach. He’d literally learned that the hard way.

The whole pizza-ordering fiasco still had him burning with both desire and embarrassment. He’d completely lost it at the sight of her bent over his bed. She clearly had not understood his dilemma or his innuendo. Thank God.

Mentally girding his senses and his loins against a barrage of temptations, Roger marched into his bedroom again. This time he didn’t knock and he didn’t stop to ask permission. He walked straight in, scooped Mari up from the bed, then went to the couch in the great room and sat down.

Mission accomplished. His body shuddered and he broke out in a cold sweat.

He could not, would not, register how good she felt in his arms and on his lap.

He could not, would not, think about the silk of her hair brushing his arm or the penetrating warmth of her body against his.

He could not, would not… Shit, he was beginning to sound like Dr. Seuss and
Green Eggs and Ham
.

And he knew how that ended.

Mari was so embarrassed. She couldn’t even look at Roger, no matter how good his arms felt around her or how intoxicatingly delicious his scent was. Just a little while ago, he had managed to make what happened outside the post an insignificant bump in the road. That bump had now become a mountain of embarrassment and shame. It hadn’t just been the people in the crowd, Roger, Holly and the others there who had seen her meltdown and would soon forget. The whole world had witnessed what happened to her and would repeatedly see it. She knew how videos were replayed again and again. The video of her would be forever out there in media-cyberspace.

She’d seen chickens running around after their heads had been cut off and there had not been a bit of difference between them and what she looked like running from the car in the middle of the crowd. She cringed at how desperate she’d been, how sure death was just a heartbeat away from claiming her. She remembered she’d called out for Roger then. All she had been able to think about was to escape the mob and reach him.

The whole incident made her efforts to become independent an abysmal failure. She shuddered. The national exposure violated her in some ways. Not anywhere near the degree of violation by the men who had attacked and raped her in her village, or the following condemnation from her father, her family and her friends, but similar.

People would see her panic and pity her like before. People would see and ridicule or laugh at her like they had before too. How could she ever face anyone again?

She had both her hands over her face, unable to even look at Roger as she burrowed against his chest. He tightened his hold on her, but even the warmth and strength of his embrace brought her little comfort. “I am so embarrassed,” she whispered.

“Because you have a beautiful face and the world saw that beauty today? How is that a sin, Mari?”

She stiffened for a second then shuddered on a cry. Shocked to realize she hadn’t even thought about how she’d broken the rules and exposed her face to the world. It should have been her first concern, her first shame, but it wasn’t.

Things were worse than she imagined. Something was happening to her. Something bad, because even in the midst of it all, the sound of Roger’s deep voice rumbling against her ear nearly made her swoon and did things to her insides that she’d never felt before.

Allah forgive me
. Was she beyond all hope? Tears she couldn’t seem to cry stung her eyes. Right that moment, her baby’s father had never seemed so far away from her.

Roger pulled her closer to him. “Talk to me, Mari. I can’t help if I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

She drew a deep breath. How could she confess the truth? She lowered her hands and looked up at him. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m not mortified that the world is seeing my face on the television.”

“You aren’t?” His brows drew down into a deep line of confusion. “But why—”

“I’m…I’m upset that the whole world is witnessing my irrational panic.”

“That’s great, Mari. Do you realize what this means?” Roger exhaled and his head fell against the back of the sofa. He laughed, clearly relieved.

Mari pulled back, horrified and incensed. Had he just said great? Had he misunderstood her? This was awful. She thumped his chest. “What are you doing? Don’t you understand how horrible this is? How can Allah forgive me?”

“Forgive what?” Roger snapped his head up, his expression suddenly grave. “What is there about you being panicked that needs your God’s forgiveness?”

“He doesn’t need to forgive my fear. He needs to forgive me for not being ashamed that the world is seeing my face. Why don’t I feel that shame? I am supposed to. That is what is right and pure and perfect, as a woman should be.”

“Hell…Mari, maybe I’m not the right person to talk to about this because I have to be completely honest. I don’t believe it is a sin for others to see your face and I never will. All I can do is relate what you are feeling to something from my own beliefs. You say that keeping your face hidden is what makes a woman right and pure and perfect in your culture, right?”

Mari nodded. She could clearly see Roger struggling to understand.

“In my culture that isn’t what is required to make a person right and pure and perfect. What is needed isn’t just demanded of women, but of men too. What makes a person right is what is in their heart. Love, honor, integrity, courage…and honesty.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Those are the things that make a person right. God doesn’t forsake someone because they aren’t perfect.” His voice thickened with pain and emotion that drew her closer to him.

He cleared his throat. Something haunted and hurt Roger.

“So maybe for you, the act of covering your face is a reflection of attitudes in your heart according to your culture. Your desire to be a good person is something I can completely understand. I desire that too. Here’s the thing about it, though. We don’t live in a perfect world. We aren’t perfect people. We make mistakes. Choices get made by us or others that make certain things impossible. Then there is the fact that sometimes bad things happen, no matter what. And as much as we want to be all of those good things that make a person right and pure and perfect, many times we aren’t. Does that mean we are bad or evil or that we should give up on the good things? No. That means we are human and can forgive and learn. In my culture, if the heart is right then God is always willing to forgive. Is Allah any different? Maybe Allah doesn’t need to forgive you. Maybe you need to forgive yourself for being human.”