A SEAL to Save Her (6 page)

That was all she had to go by. Through the door, into the courtyard—her house was supposed to be just beyond the gate. She took a breath and reached for the door handle, her hand shaking.

Turning the knob, which squeaked loud in the still of the late afternoon, she pushed it open a crack and scanned the immediate area, her eyes darting, her body vibrating with tension. Other than a few goats milling around, she saw no movement. Again there was no one there. She could hear normal village sounds coming from beyond Afsana's proposed house. She took one more look at Dex. His closed eyes, his dark lashes thick against his skin, pale beneath the tan. She'd supported him because she had to.

She wasn't supposed to note the thick muscles of his back or the height of him, the sexy way his voice rasped, the stubble on his cheeks. Her heart did a little spin; her body seemed so alive around him. They'd connected so fast, so deeply, it scared her. In life and death, there was only the moment as it ticked by. She felt every roll of sweat, every beat of her heart.

Even when he was unconscious and helpless, he still felt dangerous to her heart.

She couldn't let him die.

Sweat pooled at the base of her spine, at her temples, running down her cheeks. God, she hated this damn burka. The clamminess of her skin reeked of fear.

This was all about being on the run, and the fact that he
had
risked everything for her. She could do no less.

She might have talked a good game, but she was right on the verge of hysteria. Taking several deep cleansing breaths, she cautiously approached the house, hoping to God she got the right place.

She knocked lightly and heard footsteps from within the house. The door slowly opened to reveal...a man.

Bagram Airfield,
Parwan Province, Afghanistan

A black stealth chopper with Outcast stenciled on the side touched down without so much as a peep onto the pitted and ragged runway of Bagram. Raoul Markam, solidly built, with broad shoulders and an elegant, aristocratic face, formerly Senator Piper Jones's DS agent, walked up to Carl Kruger, CEO of Outcast, a joint South African–British private security company registered in the British Virgin Islands.

Carl was thin and ascetic, his clothes all black, his eyes ice blue. It was suddenly winter in July. “What the hell happened here? All this carnage to kill one unarmed woman and blow up a SEAL?” His thick British accent got thicker when he was angry.

“Two SEALs.”

“What?” The one word cracked between them like a gunshot.

“That unarmed woman was saved by a wounded SEAL.” Raoul handed him the medical file. “Lieutenant Dexter Kaczewski.” Carl scowled down at the service photo. “I'm going to need some more men. We've already cleared this area and taken care of the insurgents. But Jones and this SEAL disappeared.”

“Unbelievable! You said this was a cakewalk!” The shadowy man in the US who had hired them through Markam couldn't be pleased, either. He hated screwups and he really hated wild cards like Kaczewski. Carl had built his company up from nothing after he'd gotten out of the military. A year after his birth, there was a shift in apartheid, but a man of mixed birth didn't fit into either world. With that stigma, he was going to make everything he did all about him. The more money and power he accumulated, the more he could punch his own ticket. Now all that was being jeopardized by Kaczewski.

“It
was
a cakewalk! Tyler Keighley was flown out ahead of schedule to Landstuhl. I heard they nabbed a body from the SEAL ambush. That's not good.”

“I'll spin that and anyone who investigates that Mr. Carter left my service and went rogue. There's going to be backlash and they'll probably have boots on the ground within twenty-four hours. I'll search from the air. You need to find that damn woman and whoever is helping her and put them down. Understood?”

“Yes, got it.”

“And Raoul...you screw up this time and I'll freaking kill you myself.”

Headquarters, Naval Criminal Investigative Service,
San Diego, California

NCIS special agent Austin Beck said, “Lavender,” and tossed the Nerf basketball toward the small hoop attached by suction cups to the wall. It missed, went wide and Austin cursed softly, then chuckled as it hit fellow special agent Derrick Gunn in the head.

Derrick grunted from his desk and threw a sidelong glance at Special Agent Amber Dalton, rolling his eyes. “Boring, surfer boy.”

She laughed and eyed the two men. “You guys are no help at all.”

“What do we know about colors for a wedding? Derrick's color blind.”

“I am not,” he said, snatching up the ball. He threw the spongy orange orb back at Austin, who caught it, exploded from his desk chair and did a layup, as if these points would be the win for the last few seconds of a crucial NBA game.

“Score and game!” he said, walking around with his hands in the air. “The surfer boy is all about the pastels.”

Amber's brows rose. “Pastels. Wow, good color vocab, Gunn.”

“Yeah, he'll make someone a good little wife one day.” Amber's eyes shot daggers and Derrick just shot that death stare at him. “Okay, I'm getting serious,” Austin said when he saw Amber's long-suffering look. “How about a creamy yellow the same color as warm butter?” He stuck out his chin and spoke with an upper-crust British accent. “Since it's an evening wedding, it would go with black.”

“Not bad actually, Austin.”

“What? The color or the accent?”

“Both,” Amber said.

“I'm sure your bridesmaids will look smashing in yellow.” Supervisory Special Agent in Charge Kai Talbot, Austin's boss, breezed into the room and they all stiffened. “Gunn, Beck. SECNAV is waiting for you upstairs.”

SECNAV—better known as the secretary of the navy—only got involved for the big stuff. Austin got excited. Big cases meant he'd get into the thick of it, do what he was trained to do. He was well aware that Derrick thought he was lacking in abilities because he projected a laid-back surfer look, but there wasn't anything laid-back about him when it came to carrying out his duty as an NCIS agent. They looked at her blankly for a moment. “Go.”

“You putting us in, coach?”

She grabbed a file off her desk and started for the stairs, giving Austin an indulgent but stern look. Okay, so something big was definitely up. He dashed after her, with Derrick bringing up the rear, shooting Amber a sorry-you're-not-included look of sympathy.

As they entered the ready room, SECNAV Stewart Olsen was at his desk. When Kai, Derrick and Austin walked in and stood before the big screen, he got right to the point.

“There's been an incident at Bagram Airfield in Afghanistan. Senator Piper Jones is missing. She went to Bagram to see her brother Tyler Keighley, a navy SEAL who was just in an ambush not more than eighteen hours ago. He's safe at Landstuhl. Another US Navy SEAL, Lieutenant Dexter Kaczewski, is also missing.” Austin recognized that name. He thought immediately of Amber. Her husband-to-be, Tristan, was in business with a Russell Kaczewski. Could these guys be related? He refocused on the SECNAV. “He was leading that team and he lost three men. After the dust settled, one of the dead men was identified as a member of a security force—” he looked down “—Outcast, a joint British and South African outfit out of the Virgin Islands, run by Carl Kruger. The dead mercenary's name is Martin Carter and is so far our best clue there was something off with the SEALs' op. Start there.”

“Sir, you think the SEALs were lured there?”

“They were extracting three marines who were all killed execution-style, then we have the senator's missing security agent. After talking to the surviving SEALs, they all felt the op was compromised. Said it was as if the insurgents were waiting for them. The brass wants answers. That was a top-secret op.”

This just got real. Three of his brothers had been executed to lure a SEAL team into an ambush. Yeah, this surfer boy was locked and loaded.

“I'm sending you both in. Agent Gunn, your expertise is invaluable, and Agent Beck, you're a pit bull when it comes to sussing out information. Find them and get me any information you can on this ambush. If there's a leak, I want to know about it.”

“Sir, why aren't we liaising with State?”

“Because, Agent Beck, her detail may be involved.”

Holy crap!

“We're inserting you into Kabul until the base is secured and an investigation can get under way. Track down Kruger and interview him. I'm sending you all that we've gathered on him and his company so far. Bring Senator Jones and Lieutenant Kaczewski home.”

Chapter 5

Safid
Darreh,
Parwan Province, Afghanistan

P
iper stood frozen to the spot. This wasn't a woman, and now she had no idea what she was supposed to do. If she made a mistake here, they would both be dead.

The man waited and when she didn't speak, he said something unintelligible. She started to back up when the man peered at her face, then his eyes widened and his voice got agitated. Before Piper could back up, he grabbed her arm.

She fought him, her breathing ragged, adrenaline kicking her system into overdrive. She was so exhausted when she'd knocked; now it felt like she was infused with jet fuel.

“You are safe, American,” a soft voice said, and someone touched her arm. “Enough, Raffi. She is terrified.”

Breathing around her hysteria, she backed against the wall, her heart hammering. “We mean you no harm,” the man, Raffi, said.

“Dexter,” she managed, breathing hard. “Please help him.”

The woman's eyes widened and she shot forward. “Dexter! Where is he?”

“Outside the gate. He's wounded. Please.”

“Raffi, come. You stay.”

Ripping off the burka, Piper sank down to the floor and leaned her head back, her breathing quieting.

Moments later, Raffi came back with Dex slung across his shoulders, just as the sound of a helicopter flew overhead. Could that be their enemies? Did they have that kind of sophisticated equipment at their disposal?

The woman snatched up Piper's burka and hustled her behind them into a small room. She ran and closed the shutters as Raffi carefully set Dex down.

He was so quiet and still, the blood bright against his clothes, and her stomach protested. She wanted to go to him, but the woman drew her aside.

“What has happened? Who are you?”

She glanced at Dex, but he was still out. He trusted this woman enough to bring her here. He'd saved her life and now she had to put her trust in him.

“My name is Piper Jones. I was visiting my brother, a SEAL at Bagram. One of my own security people tried to kill me. Dexter saved my life.”

“Jones? Tyler Keighley? Kennedy?”

“Yes, that's my brother.”

“Yes, he spoke of you. We are honored to have you in our home. Come with me. I am Afsana Jamal. Raffi is my husband.” She had long, black hair that was plaited into a braid down her back. Her eyes were a crystal blue, a striking contrast to her dark hair. Her cheekbones were high and her lips full and pouty. Afsana was gorgeous.

“Dexter.”

“My husband will tend to him.”

She brought Piper to another room with a basin of water. “Please wash up, and you may use anything in my closet.” She reached under the small basin that was placed on a table and, as she passed, took Piper's wrist, setting soap in her palm, then closed it. “We are here to help you. Please, be at ease.”

“Thank you so much.”

Piper made quick work of stripping down to her soaked and soggy underwear, dropping everything into the corner. She scrubbed herself with the tepid water and only wished it was cold. Getting out of that heavy and hot burka was heaven.

After looking and finding underthings, but no bra, she went without it. She donned a simple cotton blue dress, drying her hair with a towel beside the basin.

She went back through the house until she came to the sleeping area where Dexter was laid out. As she came in the door, she gasped. They had taken off his shirt and exposed his raw, torn and bleeding flesh. As they cleaned the wound, Piper could see it was red and swollen.

Afsana, her beautiful eyes concerned, came over. “He is very bad. His stitches have torn and will need to be mended. I'm also afraid he has the fever. He must receive antibiotic. Soon.”

“Do you have any?”

Her face went grave and she glanced at her husband, whose lips thinned. He was distraught, to say the least.

“We are sworn to an ages-old Pashtun tradition known as Pashtunwali. We will help and protect anyone in need, friend or enemy.”

“We're not your enemy.”

“This we know. Dexter is our friend and that is a true fact.”

“How can I get him antibiotic?”

“This is very distressing. My cousin, who is not sympathetic to Americans, is due to arrive at any moment. If we are not present, it would be very bad. It would be dishonoring to him. Therefore, to protect Dexter, we must stay here. My husband can go with my cousin to get the crop to market and I will conceal Dexter.”

“What are you saying?”

“You must do this for him.”

“Oh, God. But how?”

“There is a town not three miles from here.”

“Charikar.”

“Yes, that is it. There is a woman, Dr. Blessing Contee, who runs a World Health Organization clinic. She knows Dexter and will help. She will come here and tend to him. But you must make the trip.”

Piper's knees went watery and she groped for a chair to sit down. She stared at Dexter, who was now tossing and turning, totally lost in the fever. His handsome face was taut with pain. If he didn't get the medical attention he needed, in his weakened state... “I'll go.” Groaning, she said, “More of the burka. Sorry, but I know it's your custom. I don't know how you handle wearing it.”

She smiled and said, “I'm not overly fond of it myself, but we can't dress you as a woman. They usually travel in groups and a woman alone would be suspect.”

“Then what...?”

“One moment.” Afsana disappeared for a few minutes and came back with...men's clothes.

“You want me to dress like a man?”

“Yes, but keep the head scarf wrapped around your hair and most of your face. This is very risky, but a lone man will not cause much alarm. These belong to my son.” She took Piper's wrist and dropped two metal pieces in her hand. “I took these off the ruined clothes Dexter was wearing.”

Piper looked down at the lieutenant bars. Back in Afsana's room she put on the clothes—a pair of loose-fitting cotton pants, a long overtunic, a dark vest and leather sandals. She pinned the bars inside the fabric and just the thought of having them there bolstered her.

Afsana handed her a bottle of water from their stash and what looked like small dumplings. “Walk straight out of the village. Do not talk to anyone. If someone talks to you, touch your throat and then your mouth and shake your head to indicate you are mute. Most people will leave you alone. Be very careful on the road. There are still some rebel convoys. They shouldn't bother you. Once you get to the city, do not take a cab. I will draw you a map and you should be able to navigate. It usually is crowded and you shouldn't be noticed. Never look anyone in the eye. It's very difficult to see from a distance and most people will not get that close to you. You should be safe.”

“Could I have a moment alone with him, please?”

“Of course. Raffi, come.”

They left the room and Piper went to kneel beside Dex. His handsome face was ashen, but he groaned and his eyes fluttered open. For a moment he looked up at her. “Beautiful angel,” he said softly.

“I wish I was an angel and I could come up with a miracle.”

“You're safe with me,” he said. “I'm a SEAL. We don't wish for miracles, we make them.”

“Then that would make you the beautiful angel.”

He smiled in his delirium. “I've thought about nothing but kissing you. Okay, maybe I did think about surviving and killing anything that threatened you, but kissing was definitely in the top three.”

She should have been shocked by that, but she wasn't. Everything in her world was topsy-turvy and she was losing her perspective. They had supported each other and were in survival mode. Somehow DC and Brad seemed so far away.

“So kissing was up there with killing and protecting?” Before she even realized what she was going to do, she touched the side of his face, thrilling at the rough stubble on his cheek. Ah, the way
this
man felt beneath her fingers, it was like she was coming out of some kind of delirium herself. The minute their gazes met, something inside her collapsed. His eyes were so blue, so deep with concern, and she tried to be practical and cool, but she realized that she might not make it back here, and if she didn't, that would mean she was dead. Because nothing short of death was going to stop her.

His face softened, his full lips parting, but even as a wave of pain shuddered through him, he didn't take his eyes off her. The thought of not kissing him ever was too much for her. Her attraction to him might have been adrenaline-induced, but this felt...real.

He reached up, his hand tangling in her hair. He closed his eyes, drawing her down, the rush of sensation so intense she had to grit her teeth against it. He tightened his hold on her; her heart was hammering, her breath constricted. He pressed her face against his in such a tender move that she clutched his head, her hands curling around his scalp. She made a low, desperate sound and twisted her head, his mouth suddenly hot and urgent against hers. The bolt of pure, raw sensation knocked the wind out of her.

She widened her mouth against his, feeding on the desperation that poured back and forth between them. She made a soft sound and clutched at him.

“I'll be back,” she whispered against his lips.

She rose away from him, and in his confusion, he said, “Back? Where are you going? Don't you do something stupid, Piper.” The warning in his voice was filled with anger, but it wasn't directed at her.

“Everything is okay,” she said in a soothing voice. “Afsana?” she called, and they both came back into the room.

Every muscle in her body protested moving, and her nerve endings felt as if they were stripped raw, but she tried to ignore the feelings pounding through her. She had no idea what she was doing or what he'd done to her.

“Piper,” he said weakly. “Don't you dare...” He trailed off, rolling to his good side and pushing up, gritting and gasping in pain. She ran back over and supported him against her, his glassy eyes pleading. “I can get up. We have to keep moving.”

“No. You can't. Stop being a macho idiot. I've got this covered.”

He writhed in pain, his head rolling. “The bodies...stop pulling...stop dropping... I can't breathe...” He passed out again. There wasn't anything he could say that would stop her. She gently laid him down.

They walked to the door and Afsana wrapped the head scarf tightly, pulling the material up over Piper's face, tucking the ends in securely. “Good luck, Piper. I'm sorry I couldn't go with you.”

“No, I understand and we can't wait. I'm sure it will be fine, but if I don't come back...”

“You will, but we will take care of him. I promise.”

The door closed behind her and she found herself on a dirt road, where several children were playing and an old man was working an outside kiln. Some shopkeepers had small carts and were selling food, the aroma hitting her hard.

She started walking, not looking right or left. Walking briskly, already feeling the effects of the heat, no one paid her any heed except for a wave from the guy with the kiln. She waved back and kept moving. She reached back as she walked for a bottle of water and the food Afsana had packed. Slipping her hands to her mouth, she ate and drank as she hit the outskirts of town. Her stomach tightened, but she kept walking, rounding a bend in the road, and the trees crowded closer, forming a scrubby wall on the side of the road as it dipped to a small, narrow bridge with plank decking. She crossed the bridge and followed the curve, soon hitting the paved road that stretched out into the distance, mountain ranges up ahead. After thirty minutes, she couldn't see the town anymore.

Suddenly there was a rumble from behind her and she bowed her head and kept walking. She heard someone speak in the Pashto language, but she kept walking. She stopped when the voice got insistent.

Turning her body so she could see better, she froze. Her heart stalled, then dropped in a sickening rush. There was a convoy of soldiers alongside her.

There was a man who was motioning out of the side window of the lead truck, the back full of men carrying guns and what looked like grenade launchers. She stared at him, a wild, tense flutter taking off in her middle. She had no idea what he was saying; her brain froze.

Gripping her hands together, she tucked them into the wide sleeves to hide her light skin and to help stop the trembling, she swallowed hard, her mouth dry, fighting against the knot of fear in her gut.

She bowed her head, touching her throat and then her mouth. The man yammered at her again and pointed to the back of the truck. She felt as if every ounce of warmth had drained out of her, leaving her cold and clammy, while he stared at her, looking angry and grim. She would bluff her way through this... Dex's life hung in the balance. She had to get that antibiotic.

Feeling completely unsure, she took a breath, trying to remain outwardly calm, her heart pounding even harder.

She finally got it, a shock of realization through the paralysis. He wanted her to catch a ride with them into the city. She shook her head, bowing and moving off. He said something else and then the convoy started moving again.

She kept walking, her breathing erratic and her heart hammering inside her chest. The ache in her throat so intense that she was afraid she was going to cry. Putting one foot in front of the other, she kept heading toward town. She watched as the trucks kept moving, and finally relief washed through her.

Consciously resisting the pull of old memories, Piper watched the changing sky, listening to the rustle of the leaves and the stirrings in the bushes.

That kiss had really rocked her, her attraction to Dex overwhelming even with her grief over the loss of her husband. With guilt heavy on her, she had to admit she hadn't felt like this, ever. That also shook her quite a bit. Brad had been the love of her life, but with Dex...it was different. Hotter, more intense, totally consuming. But it had been eighteen months since Brad had died and her world had collapsed. Losing their unborn child and the complications, making it unlikely she would ever carry another, were also devastating losses.