Behind Enemy Lines (17 page)

Tom answered lightly, “Sorry to disappoint you, but Navy ships don’t have bathtubs. You’ll have to wait until we get stateside for that.”

“Hey, I’d settle for a cold shower right about now.”

Tom smiled. “Me, too. If it makes you feel better, the longest I’ve ever gone without washing, except for rain and occasional mud puddles, was sixty-three days. So you’re not even close to my record.”

Annie laughed. “That’s disgusting! I bet you stood in the shower for an hour after you got back to civilization.”

“Yup. Scrubbed myself with steel wool and Lysol.”

“Your workouts these past two weeks may have proved you’re tough, but you’re not
that
tough!”

His response was casual. “I’ve been taking it easy on myself.”

Annie shook her head. For all she knew, he might have been. But his exercise regimen had been awe inspiring nonetheless.

“The whole team’s meeting here tonight, angel. Do we have enough food left to give them a decent meal?”

“We still have a fair bit. But the way you guys eat, I’m not sure it’ll qualify as a decent meal.”

“You know us growing boys.”

She grinned. “
Boys
being the operative word.”

Tom’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, yeah?”

Annie managed one zig before Tom zagged and immobilized her completely. She didn’t stand a chance of winning the tickling match that followed. But she did win the internal struggle between Tom and his conscience when he finally kissed her and then made love to her.

Tom’s men started trickling in at dusk. They didn’t eat the cupboards completely bare, but it was a close call.

Doc was the last to arrive. Annie sat with him while he gulped down a can of chili she’d heated over a couple of candles. When he finished, she followed him into the bedroom. The others were peering by flashlight at the six-foot-tall map of St. George that Tom had drawn on her lovely yellow wall.

Tom spoke over his shoulder, “So, Doc. What’s the word from rebel headquarters?”

Over the past two weeks, Doc had earned the complete trust of the rebel leaders by treating their wounded brilliantly, compliments of Uncle Sam’s fine training.

“They’re moving into this eastern sector tomorrow night.” He pointed at the map.

“Where are the troops coming from?”

“This area here.” Doc pointed at a historic neighborhood in the center of the city known as Old Town.

Dutch spoke up. “The rebels don’t have all that many soldiers there now. If they pull a large force out to attack to the east, Old Town’s going to be covered pretty thin.”

Annie mentally sighed in relief. It was just the opening they needed.

Tom frowned. “Does the government know about this? If they do, they’ll move on Old Town tomorrow night to take it back.”

Annie’s spirits fell. Darn. He was right.

Mac spoke up. “I haven’t heard anything about an offensive at the Gavronese Army’s headquarters. But then I only work in their supply office. I’m not wiping generals’ a—pardon me, ma’am—behinds like Doc is.”

Tom turned to the silent member of his team, Howdy. The other men stilled and listened intently when he finally spoke.

“This afternoon the government repositioned a lot of heavy, rolling equipment for an attack of some kind. They’re in place to hit either the sector Doc’s talking about or this area to the northwest. Both targets are lightly defended by the rebels. Unfortunately, they’re also our two best bets for egress routes.”

“Could the government attack both positions simultaneously?”

Howdy shook his head. “Not enough firepower. They’ll do one or the other.”

Annie groaned silently. Great. So if they picked the right route, they’d have an easy walk out. If they picked the wrong one they’d land smack dab in the middle of a firefight. A hot one.

Tom frowned. “Any thoughts on which route we take, anyone?”

There were shrugs all around.

“Annie?”

She started. “What?”

“Which route would you suggest?”

Her cheeks grew hot as all the men stared intently at her. “Me? I don’t know anything about this tactical stuff.”

“Which section of the city are you more familiar with?”

“Old Town. It’s tricky to navigate, though. Lots of narrow winding streets. The other area you guys are looking at is more modern with wide boulevards that run in compass grid lines.”

“Well then, Old Town it is.”

All the guys nodded in agreement with Tom.

Alarmed, she said, “Look, don’t make this decision based on my lowly opinions. You guys do your expert thing and choose.”

“We just did. Tanks maneuver lousy in tight spaces. And the more little alleys and side streets there are, the more hiding places there’ll be for us.” Tom shifted topics. “Okay, so how are we doing for firepower?”

Howdy rolled open a large bundle he’d carried in with him and dumped at least twenty assorted pistols, shotguns and rifles on the floor.

Eagerly the other men reached for the weapons, inspecting and commenting on the arsenal. In a matter of minutes there were gun parts all over the floor as the guys cleaned and tinkered with the weapons.

Tom gestured for her to sit on the floor beside him. She did so, leaning her back against the couch and savoring his nearness.

“Have you ever used any of these, Annie?”

“Well, I’ve shot .38 revolvers and 9 mm Berettas in my annual marksmanship training.”

“Are you any good?”

She threw him a sideways look and murmured, “You mean with a gun?”

One corner of his mouth turned up and he murmured back, “I know what you can do without one, angel.”

“I can shred the heck out of a paper bull’s-eye.”

“Ever shot at a live target?”

“Nope.”

“Ever done any hunting?”

“Goodness, no! I wouldn’t shoot at a poor, defenseless animal!”

The other men looked up at her outburst and grinned. Tex drawled, “I chase little bunnies, but I don’t shoot ’em, either. It ain’t sporting to hunt with a gun.”

Mac laughed. “The only bunnies you chase are Playboy bunnies, Tex.”

Tom leaned over until his shoulder touched hers and his breath was warm on her neck. She hardly noticed when he dropped a pistol in her lap. Its weight wasn’t nearly as heavy as the thudding of her heart.

The timbre of his voice sent goose bumps down her spine as he said, “This is a SIG-Sauer P229 semiautomatic pistol. Its clip holds ten rounds….”

He rattled off a series of specifications, muzzle velocities, trigger pull weights and other assorted statistics. What registered with Annie was the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled and how kissable his mouth looked.

When his recitation ended, she said regretfully, “Tom, I’m terribly impressed by your display of knowledge, but I don’t have the slightest idea what any of that means.”

Snickers turned into coughs behind her.

Tex piped up, “Why, it means you point that li’l ol’ thing at the bad guy and pull the trigger. Then hang on, ’cause it’ll knock you on your derriere if you don’t.”

Tom’s voice was dry. “Thanks for the translation into Stupid, Tex.”

“Anytime, boss.”

Tom demonstrated loading and aiming the pistol once, then placed the angular, heavy weapon in her hands. She scooted forward while he slid behind her and circled her with his arms. He placed his hands over hers and guided her through the motions.

Maybe it was the dark lethality of the guns and men around her, or maybe it was the leashed energy bursting in the room, but being with Tom like this the night before a mission was exciting and edgy and sexy.

He murmured in her ear, “Angel, if you get any more turned on than you are right now, I’m gonna have to take you into the bedroom and make love to you.”

“What about your men?” she whispered back.

“What about them?”

“You wouldn’t.”

She felt his grin against her ear. “Don’t dare me or I may have to.”

Shivers raced from her scalp to the arches of her feet. The appeal of what he suggested melted her from the inside out. She considered tossing out the dare.

“Angel, don’t tempt me.”

She half turned and laughed at him. “I thought seeing to my downfall was your job.”

“What job was that?”

Tom glanced up. “Nothing, Mac. How’s that minigun shaping up?”

“Just fine, Hoss. The firing pin needs filing, but she’ll be a sweet weapon when I’m done with her.”

“How many rounds will it deliver before it melts?”

“Six thousand, give or take.”

Annie glanced up, surprised. “A gun can melt?”

“Gatling guns like this generate huge amounts of heat. If you fire them continuously, the barrels eventually melt.”

Dutch added, “But they lay down the prettiest carpet of lead you ever saw. One of these babies can take out fifty men in ten seconds.”

She was impressed in a dubious sort of way. “I guess that’d even the odds in a fight pretty fast, wouldn’t it?”

Tom nodded. “That’s the idea.”

Annie turned to Howdy. “Where’d you get all these weapons?”

“I liberated them from their owners.”

“You stole them?”

“Not exactly, ma’am.”

Annie frowned, confused.

Tom said gently, “The owners were dead.”

“How come the other soldiers in their squads didn’t take the guns? I’ve heard you guys talk about how there’s a shortage of firearms for both armies right now.”

Tom exhaled heavily. “Nobody else took the guns because Howdy killed the owners. He’s our sniper.”

“Oh.” Sometimes she forgot the nature of Tom’s work. Or, more accurately, she tried to forget the nature of Tom’s work. She just couldn’t equate killing and violence with the passionate, considerate, gentle lover of the past two weeks.

She stopped herself from staring at the silent, polite killer across the room.

When the nightly gunfire started outside, they extinguished all but one candle. To Annie’s surprise, everyone else spread bedrolls on the floor and stretched out to sleep.

They seemed to expect her to use the bed, so she crawled into it and stripped down to her T-shirt under the covers. As soon as she was settled, Tom blew out the candle and the room plunged into blackness.

When Tom’s arms went around her from behind and his body pressed against hers a minute or two later, she about jumped out of her skin. Not only hadn’t she heard him get into bed, but she hadn’t
felt
it.

“How did you do that?” she whispered.

He whispered back, “Patience and stealth, my dear.”

“Sheesh. I guess. So do any of these guys snore?”

To her chagrin, Tex answered out of the dark. “Not hardly. If we did we’d be dead quick in our line of work.”

“You guys would have to have great hearing, wouldn’t you?” she groused in a normal speaking voice.

Quiet chuckles floated out of the darkness.

Tom pulled her close, spooning her body into his. “Get some sleep, Annie. You’re going to need it in a day or two.”

Why had Tom joined her in bed? Was it his way of giving her one last night with him? Or was it nothing more than his desire to sleep in a comfortable bed? Whatever his motive, she wasn’t about to kick him out.

She relaxed against the solid bulwark of his body, enjoying the easy comfort between them. It was funny how the circle of Tom’s arms had become home to her.

As she drifted toward sleep, images of flying over the jungle came to her. The feel of his body slamming into trees below her was one she’d never forget. It was strange how a single split-second decision had sent her life careening off in this direction, to this place and time, with this man.

How could she ever have made the decision to sacrifice his life to save her own? The thought made her cold all over. She’d never forgive herself for it. She’d do whatever it took to make it up to him.

Annie fell asleep quickly, but Tom wasn’t so lucky. He lay in the dark for a long time, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her ribs beneath his arm.

Every time he touched her like this, it took something from him, something he feared he would never get back. Maybe it was loneliness he felt slipping away. He feared it was something worse. Like the sense of detachment and nonchalance about dying so vital to his line of work.

Every time he made love to her, he swore it would be the last time. He’d steel himself to resist the pull between them, and then she’d smile at him or touch him or look at him in a certain way and his self-discipline unraveled all over again. He’d always prided himself on his control, but he had none at all when it came to Annie. It ate away at him, eroding his walls bit by bit.

It was a long, sweet fall toward hell. And no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t stop the descent.

It was raining when they woke up the next morning, much to Tom’s satisfaction. Rain covered the noise of men moving and tended to keep armies indoors.

They spent the day finishing off the remainder of the food, checking their equipment and picking Annie’s brains about the layout of the Old Town area of the city. To Tom’s disgust, the rain stopped just before sunset.

“Annie, could you come into the bedroom? There’s something I want to show you.”

She followed him to the window.

“Look outside.”

She pressed her eye to the peephole. “What am I supposed to see?”

“The sunset.” He’d already looked at it to know that every color from purple to brilliant orange tinged a layer of high, rippling clouds, and the sun backlit a lone thunderhead, spraying golden rays outward in all directions.

“Wow,” she breathed. “That’s gorgeous.”

“I always watch the sunset before I go on a mission.”

“Why?”

“Superstition, I guess. In case something happens to me, I won’t die without having stopped to watch it.”

“Well, if this sunset did end up being your last, it’d be a good one to go out on. But,” she added fiercely, “nothing bad is going to happen to you, Tom.”

He shrugged. “You never know.”

“That’s what I’d hate most about doing your kind of work. I can’t be casual about the possibility of not seeing another sunset. I
want
to survive to see another one.”