Falcon: The Quiet Professionals Book 3 (45 page)

“I’m not sure about this,” Cassie whispered, staring at her reflection in the mirror. A mocha brown gown hugged her body, and while the neckline wasn’t plunging, she had cleavage showing. Hair swept up, she looked more like a movie star than a soldier on a mission. She glanced at the beautiful brunette standing behind her. “You said the point was to blend in.”

“It is.” Timbrel reached around in front of Cassie and draped a multistrand necklace with chocolate pearls and crystals.

“How am I supposed to blend in when”—Cassie glanced down— “certain parts are standing out?”

Timbrel laughed. “Believe me, girl. There will be a lot more standing out in that gala. “There is nothing wrong with what you’re showing. It’s still very modest.”

In front of her now, Timbrel twined a lock around her finger and let it curl along Cassie’s neck. “Besides, I hear a certain soldier is having trouble remembering what he felt for you.”

Surprised, Cassie looked her new friend in the eye.

Timbrel laughed. “Yeah, I think it’s endemic of elite operators. Maybe too many bumps on their brain bowls.”

There was a rap on the door. “Okay, ladies. Showtime.”

“Coming,” Timbrel called over her shoulder. She made one more adjustment to the dress then gave her nod of approval. “Now let him act like he’s uninterested.”

“Look, this is great ’n all, but seriously—tonight, I just want to get to Kiew. That’s my goal.”

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetie.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. But when you see that look in his eye, the one that says he is totally
into
you, that he could devour you—yeah, tell me how good your mission focus is then.” The timber of her laughter carried them both into the hallway.

“Okay, I’m changing.”

Timbrel caught her hand and kept walking until they were in the living area. Candyman turned and his gaze completely feasted on Timbrel. He let out a long, low whistle and pulled his wife into his hold. “I think we need to skip the fund-raiser.”

With an arched meaning, Timbrel looked at Cassie as if to say,
see?

But there was one difference—those two were married. She and Sal had gotten the cart before the horse before. And it’d been completely messed up ever since.

Tony turned to Cassie and nodded. “Yeah, that’s how to knock a guy on his butt.”

Timbrel slapped him.

A growl came from the side—her dog lying there, lifted his head and upper lip in a snarl.

“Hey, not
me
. I’m talking about Falcon,” Tony explained. “Let’s go before I get in trouble.”

He escorted them into the elevator and down to the second floor, where the entire level served as a banqueting area. Heavy security stood along the sidelines, appraising each attendee waiting to enter. Two eight-foot tables were draped in luxurious linens and floral arrangements.

“Audrey! Darling, there you are!”

Timbrel groaned. “I swear she calls me that on purpose.”

“Any time she can,” Tony said.

“Mother.” Timbrel approached the table, bypassing the long line. She glanced at her mother. “
Timbrel
and Tony VanAllen. We’re on the list.”

The platinum-haired woman waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, you know I can’t get used to that name.”

Nina Laurens
. It was
the
Nina Laurens standing right there big as day!

Timbrel nodded. “This is Cassandra Walker. She’s on the list.”

“Of course she is, darling. And such a pretty name for a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you,” Cassie said. “And I just loved you in
Evening Love
, Miss Laurens. But you’re awesome in any movie.” As soon as the words escaped her lips, Cassie cringed.

Timbrel groaned. “Do not feed this woman’s ego,” she said and threaded arms with Cassie.

“Oh, aren’t you sweet. Thank you, Miss Walker.” She flitted her hands toward the wall of doors affording entrance. “Go on. Enjoy the event.”

Timbrel led her through the wide doors.

“I’m sorry,” Cassie mumbled. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“Happens to the best of them.”

But Cassie’s mind had already shifted into work mode. Into seek and find—Sal that is. She wanted to see him. Ached for him to look at her the way Tony had, as Timbrel said, devoured his wife with his eyes. As if he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Hey,” a large, dark blur moved in front of them. “Here’s your coms piece.”

It was Sal. Right in front of her. Angled sideways and he hadn’t even seen her. Not two feet away. And he stood there, talking with Tony about the coms and the mission and who was expected.

Cassie’s heart plummeted. So much for standing out. Timbrel had been right—she
was
blending in. So much that Sal didn’t notice her.

“Excuse us.” Arms still threaded, Timbrel barreled with Cassie right between Sal and Tony.

“Sure. Sor—
Andra
?”

He hooked her arm, pulling her around to him. And it seemed every breath he took soaked up more of her strength because her knees suddenly felt like Jell-O.

“Booyah,” Timbrel muttered in Cassie’s ear. “Sorry, I need to dance with my man.” She and Tony vanished.

Sal smiled at her. Really, deeply smiled. “You look amazing.”

She probably matched the royal-red curtains draping the space between the massive marble columns. “It was Timbrel’s doing.”

He hadn’t let go. He just stood there staring. For a very. Long. Time.

CHAPTER 40

Kabul, Afghanistan
10 April—1855 Hours

F
alcon.
Idiot
. Ask her to dance,” came a taunting voice through his coms.

Sal gritted his teeth, half embarrassed. Seeing her all dolled up, those curves taunting him. Curves he’d once been intimately familiar with—and now off-limits. A beauty of a woman—inside and out.

“Dance?” he finally managed to ask.

“Hooah!” came a chorus of cheers through his coms.

“Shut up,” he hissed.

Cassie frowned then her blue eyes noticed the small plastic piece in his ear.

He guided her onto the dance floor and took her into his arms. He turned off his mic. “This is really unfair.” Though he stood a head taller than her, she always fit so perfectly against him.

“What?”

“You, that dress… the mountain between us.”

Hand on his shoulder and one on his arm, she met his gaze. “Why is it still there?”

“Good question.” He could not get enough of her. The oval face. Her full lips—not pillow lips like a lot of Hollywood and plastic women, but natural, taunting ones. The long, graceful slope of her neck and—

Sal lifted his gaze back to her eyes. Safe territory. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks. You clean up pretty good, too.”

“Heads up,” a voice said as they swirled past a small crowd.

Sal reached up and turned his piece back on.

“You back on, Falcon?”

“Yes,” he subvocalized.

“Kiew Tang is on-site.”

“Tang is here,” Sal said, and immediately felt Cassie go rigid. He pressed a hand against her back. “Easy. Keep it natural.”

Cassie hauled in a breath. “I see her.” Her gaze locked on to something. “I don’t see him. Seems she’s alone.”

“Confirm,” Dean’s voice came through the coms. “Tang arrived alone.”

“She came alone,” Sal repeated for Cassie’s benefit.

Cassie nodded, tucked her chin, and let out a breath.

“You ready?” Sal asked, suddenly unwilling to let her go. To release her to try to connect with a woman who turned out to be a much more highly trained operative than they could’ve imagined. More than just a high school roommate.

He let go, but Cassie clung to him. “Andra?”

Her fingers tightened against his biceps. “The reason I did the POA—”

“No,” Sal said. He cupped her face. “Just focus on tonight. Don’t let your mind go there.”

“If anything happens to—”

“It’s not.”

“But if it does—”

“Andra.”

She clutched his arms as he held her face. “
Promise
you’ll take care of Mila.”

“Move!”
Dean growled through the coms.

Sal glanced to the side. Saw Dean and Titanis navigating the thick crowd. But then he saw the willowy, elegant figure of Kiew Tang. She’d narrowed in on Cassie, but worse—on him. “She’s watching us.”

Cassie slapped his face.

Sal jerked, stunned as she stalked off.

“Nice save,” Dean whispered. “Falcon get lost in the crowd.”

Carrying his wounded pride off the floor, Sal ignored the smirks of the team, who were littered around the massive event hall and interwoven among several hundred guests.

Sal pushed around one clique after another to take up position by a marble pillar. Had she slapped him because he hadn’t answered? Or because she wanted Kiew to think them at odds? “Where is she?”

He surfed the crowd, searching for her. She’d been headed in Tang’s general direction, but with this many people finding her would be a challenge.

“Anyone have eyes on Walker?” Sal asked, pushing farther back toward the windows to more easily move through the hall.

“Negative,” Eagle said.

“Just lost her,” came Titanis’s reply.

“We need eyes on her at all times.” Sal reminded the team. “Find her!”

“Easy, Falcon,” Dean said quietly. “She’s not the only bird in play.”

Maybe she wasn’t but she was the only bird he cared about.

Might as well put her through a clothes wringer. Cassie held her breath as she pushed through one tangled mob after another, heading in the general direction she’d seen Kiew.

A shoulder bumped hers.

“Sorry.”

A hand wrapped around hers, passing something to her. “Coms,” a voice breathed.

Cassie stopped, rolling the small piece in her hand as she looked around, searching for whoever from Raptor had handed off the communications device. But strange, unfamiliar faces glanced back. One or two men smiled, and another started toward her, innuendo clear in his posture and pace.

Great
. Cassie turned and ducked, grateful she wasn’t tall and could bob through the crowd without too much notice. Irritation clawed her partially from the claustrophobia choking her but also because she’d told Raptor she didn’t want a coms piece. It’d stop Kiew from contacting her.

Through a cluster of tuxed-out men, she saw Captain Watters trolling.

Cassie aimed for him. Caught his arm.

He turned, his expression stern. “What—?”

“No.” She held out the coms. “I told you, I’m not wearing one.”

Slowly, he looked down at the coms. Then back at her. “It’s not ours.”

Cassie blinked. “What?”

“Ours are clear and long range. It’s shortwave.” Captain Watters stared at her for several long seconds. Though he looked at her, he wasn’t
looking
at her. His expression firmed with what looked like determination. “Put it in.”

“What if it makes my head explode?”

He smirked. “It won’t.”

She nodded to his coms. “What’d they tell you?”

He didn’t answer quickly. “That it’s safe.”

With a huff, Cassie moved away from him, wandering to a table that provided an array of drinks—water, punch, liquors, and sodas. There, she casually let down her hair and slipped the coms piece into her ear, rubbing her scalp and reveling in the way her scalp no longer throbbed from the updo.

“My friend.”

Cassie inhaled, her gaze skimming the crowd as she turned and breathed,
“Kiew.”

“I hope slapping him was not for my benefit.”

Cassie smiled, still searching for her friend. “Completely my benefit. He wouldn’t make a promise to me. Where are you?” Probably shouldn’t have asked that, but it’d come out before she could think it through.

“Remember the OVA when Shinji was in the robot and Asuka was in one as well?”

Cassie’s mind whirred to a stop, trying to extract that long-ago memory card. “I… barely.” Yeah—she recalled the original video anime. It was called
You Can (Not) Redo
. “Sorry. You loved Shinji more than I ever did.” Where was she? Why wouldn’t she talk to her face-to-face?

“Remember that robots sometimes went rogue.”

The words turned Cassie’s stomach into a knot.