Falcon: The Quiet Professionals Book 3 (50 page)

“Cute.”

“Mates, welcome to the
ViCross
.” He motioned to the seats. “My home is your home for as long as needed.”

“Come again?” Eagle asked. “This is
your
ship?”

Titanis gave a curt nod.

“Why are we here? Why did that helo take us—?”

“Until the dust settles, we need to stay out of sight.” Dean removed his tactical vest, and the rest of the team followed suit, shedding gear, along with the physical and emotional weight that went with it. All except Cassie. “It was decided that we’d lay low for a while, once we finished the mission. As far as anyone knows, we’re in the field.”

“Who decided this?”

“Burnett,” Dean said. “The mission didn’t go as planned, but we accomplished our objective—stopping Meng-Li and that code. We don’t have a lot of answers about the explosions nor if he managed to get that software out to our enemies, but we did good.” Dean’s gaze hit Cassie. “Walker, good job. You saved the lives of every man in this room. Thank you.”

A round of applause went up and Cassie’s head went lower.

Sal rubbed her back.

“Titanis will tell you about the ship, but I want everyone writing up their reports before grabbing rack time. This is crucial. We can’t lose details to groggy minds in the morning. Clear?”

“Captain,” Harrier said. “I need to check your arm.”

“Probably should check Falcon’s head,” Schmidt said. “He ate a bullet through that brain bowl. Look at the hole.”

Sal held up the helmet, still stunned that the Kevlar helmet had stopped the bullet that nearly ended it all. “Thick skull.”

Hooahs answered, and Titanis led the men below.

“How are you doing?” Sal asked Cassie, holding her back.

Chin dimpling, she ducked. Covered her face with her hands. Sal wrapped her in his arms and held her as she cried. As the tears grew in intensity, Sal tightened his arms around her, hooking one around her head and another around her waist, his lips against her hair. “You were amazing tonight.”

She shook her head, shuddering. “She’s dead. I couldn’t protect her.”

“She knew that, Andra. That’s why she told you about Shamu.”

Cassie snorted through her tears. “Shinji.”

“Same difference.”

Her wet and red eyes came to his. “I saw him shoot you. Saw it flip you off your feet.”

“Yeah, not a graceful swan dive on my part.”

With a slow swing of her head back and forth, she tried to fight the tears. Then she shook her head faster. “I thought you were dead.”

Her choked sob tugged at heartstrings he’d forgotten he had. Sal tugged her close again. “Imagine how I felt—with you on the other side of the blast shield after you freed us and ended up trapping yourself.

“That door about cut you in half.”

“Better in half that losing the best half of me.”

Cassie eased back, her dark lashes wet with tears brightening her azure irises.

“Yeah.” Sal cupped her face. “You.”

“Don’t tease me,” she said. “I can’t—”

Sal captured her mouth with his, gentle at first. Testing the waters. Testing whether she’d shove him away. But when she softened against him, Sal deepened the kiss. Her surrender charged his desire. His craving. His memories of their times years ago. Times that had gotten them in trouble. That had created Mila.

“This going to be a problem?”

Sal eased off, keeping Cassie close but looking at Dean, who stood with his arms folded. “What?”

“You two on the same ship. Think you can respect boundaries?”

“I think I should guard her door,” Eagle said, his thinning red hair cut short, as if he’d buzzed it after showering this morning. “To protect the lady.”

Sal scowled. “Nobody’s protecting this lady but me. And yes—I will be on my best behavior.”

“Which has us worried,” Harrier said. “We’ve seen your best before.”

“Hey.” They were ganging up on him, enjoying it way too much.

“Walker,” Dean said, motioning her toward the stairs leading up.

“You can have my room,” Titanis said. “It has a lock on the door.”

“Oh for crying out loud.”

EPILOGUE

East China Sea
16 April—0945 Hours

S
al strode toward Cassie, who sat on the upper deck. He passed her a military-grade iPad as he sat beside her on the padded bench.

Cassie smiled but the dance her eyebrows did told him she was confused. “What?”

“Can I see her?”

Her lips parted with a deep smile. “Mila?”

“Yeah—you Skyped her, right, that night I saw her face from a distance? Can I see her? Maybe…”

“You want me to tell her—?”

He touched her hand. “Just let me meet her. This thing is knocking me off my feet. Let’s go easy on her.” He wrapped an arm around her as she accessed the app for a video conference. “We’ll tell her I’m her daddy when we get back home.”

Cassie’s gaze flicked to his. “Home? We?”

Sal gave her a sheepish grin. “You didn’t think I’d let you leave without me a second time, did you?”

She jabbed his side. “Let’s remember, you left me.”

“Well. If you want to be technical…” He homed in on her lips and kissed her again.

“Ahem,” said a voice from the device.

Sal leaned back to find a face staring back.

“Amanda,” Cassie said, blushing.

“Seems you’ve been busy.” Amanda glared at Sal. “Want to explain this?”

“A long story,” Cassie said. “Promise the full story later, but is Mila there?”

“Yes,” a sweet, soft voice called from somewhere off screen. “I’m watching
Blue’s Clues
.”

“I can’t tear her from it.”

“Look what I drew!” A piece of paper blurred and blocked the view.

“Back it away, Mila. It’s too close.”

Sal eased forward as the paper vanished and a cherubic face filled the camera. “It’s me and you watching
Blue’s Clues
when you come back, Mommy.”

Heart full, Sal soaked in her face. Her brown eyes. Her light brown hair, a diluted version of his.

“Mila, I want you to meet someone,” Cassie said.

“I know him. He’s my daddy.”

Sal froze. “Why would you say that?”

“Because, your picture is in Mommy’s purse.”

Sal smiled at Cassie.

“Are you finally going to come home?” Mila asked, her elbows propped on the granite island as she took over the conversation.

“Well, maybe.” Sal shifted, not wanting to push too hard too fast. “But I have to ask you a question.”

“What?”

“Do you like ice cream, Mila?”

“No.” She pouted then propped her chin on the heels of her little hands. “I
lub
it!”

East China Sea
16 April—1012 Hours

Dean stood aboard the
ViCross
with Raptor team and his new band of brothers, the SEALs who warred with him and relaxed with him over the last four days. He’d watched the approach of the private helicopter from the moment it’d been but a glint in the sunlight. Now the bird whipped the ocean water as it landed on the helo pad.

Last night, watching Sal and Cassie, he knew he was ready. More than ready to make things final. He grabbed a phone and made the arrangements.

Hawk had flown out last night with Takkar to debrief and now hobbled with his leg in a cast to hold the helo’s door against the slapping wind. He leaned heavily on the cane. Resplendent in a simple white dress, Zahrah alighted from the chopper with her cousin Fekiria and, of course, her father—the infamous General Z-Day Zarrick.

They disappeared into the sun again, and Dean waited on the lower deck with his brothers. Men he’d fought and suffered with. He shifted on his feet as General Zarrick walked Zahrah toward him at the makeshift wedding altar.

As captain of the ship and since they were more than two miles offshore, Eamon officiated the wedding.

Their words were simple, their vows profound and deep. He prayed the others who had not taken the plunge of committing to the women who’d supported and loved them would follow suit.

Sealed with a kiss, Dean took Zahrah as his wife with all the promises to protect and love her. They celebrated with a feast and more relaxation.

“Hold up.” Hawk propped on a cane. “I’m not letting the captain show me up.”

Laughter trickled around the boat.

“Fekiria, FlyGirl,” Hawk said as he tugged something from his pocket. “Will you marry me?”

“Hold up!” Schmidt laughed. “That’s an O ring!”

“Shut up!” Hawk waved his cane at the SEAL. “It’s all I have. I’ve been trapped on this fish tank with smelly squids.” He turned and held out his hands. “Well? Will you have me?”

Fekiria laughed. “You’re not putting a gasket on me. I want a real ring! A big one!”

“Well, crap.” Hawk looked to Titanis. “Got any cash I can borrow?”

They were brothers. Warriors. Friends. Men who fought when others couldn’t. When others wouldn’t. Soldiers braving the face of evil, standing up when others cowered. And while it might seem they’d gotten off easy with no immediate loss of life among their number, Dean knew the toll would leave indelible scars and the men would warrior on. The next mission. The next enemy. The next victory!

“The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.”
—Douglas MacArthur

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ronie Kendig is an award-winning, bestselling author who grew up an Army brat. After twenty-plus years of marriage, she and her hunky hero husband have a full life with four children, a Maltese Menace, and a retired military working dog in Northern Virginia. Author and speaker, Ronie loves engaging readers through her Rapid-Fire Fiction. Ronie can be found at
www.roniekendig.com
, on Facebook (
www.facebook.com/rapidfirefiction
), Twitter (
@roniekendig
), and Goodreads (
www.goodreads.com/RonieK
).

THE QUIET PROFESSIONALS

Other books by Ronie Kendig

DISCARDED HEROES SERIES
Nightshade
Digitalis
Wolfsbane
Firethorn

A BREED APART SERIES
Trinity
Talon
Beowulf

Operation Zulu: Redemption

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