Heroes In Uniform (48 page)

Read Heroes In Uniform Online

Authors: Sharon Hamilton,Cristin Harber,Kaylea Cross,Gennita Low,Caridad Pineiro,Patricia McLinn,Karen Fenech,Dana Marton,Toni Anderson,Lori Ryan,Nina Bruhns

Tags: #Sexy Hot Contemporary Alpha Heroes from NY Times and USA Today bestselling authors

“Better?” Erin asked softly a minute later.

Honor nodded, face still resting in her hands.

“Can’t you send him an e-mail or something, just to put your mind at ease?” Erin assumed she wouldn’t want to actually speak to him over the phone or anything like that.

“No, it’s…no.” Honor straightened with a sigh then stood. She frowned as she glanced around and noticed the packed bags Erin had stowed by the head of her bunk. Those pale blue eyes flashed up to hers. “Is it that day already?”

Erin nodded, feeling a pang at leaving Honor here. Of all her roomies, she was closest to Honor. “Leaving for Kabul in forty minutes.”

“Oh.” She glanced around the hut, taking in all the empty beds. “Getting kind of lonely around here. Now it’ll just be Ace and me.”

And Ace’s night shifts meant she’d be mostly sleeping during the day, so not much company for Honor. “I’ll be back in two weeks. You’ll barely even have time to miss me.”

Honor put on a smile, but it was less than convincing. “Yeah. You take care, okay?”

“I will.” She reached up to return the hug Honor offered, patted her back, but she could tell her friend was still upset. “Maybe have someone pass on a message to him for you at least. I know you, you’ll drive yourself nuts without at least hearing something from him, even if it’s passed on from someone else.”

“Maybe,” Honor said evasively as she pulled away and straightened. “See you in two weeks. Say hi to the horses for me.”

“You bet.”

As soon as she was alone, Erin grabbed her toiletries and rushed across to the shower facility through the cool March morning air. Scrubbed, dressed and fed, she gathered her bags and headed toward the main gates where the truck she’d be riding in was waiting. After verifying everything with the driver, she loaded her gear into the back of the Hummer, slid into the backseat and fastened the chinstrap on her helmet. They were all required to wear body armor outside the protected confines of the base, and the roads to and from Kabul could still be dangerous for anyone wearing a military uniform. Especially if said uniform had a U.S. flag anywhere on it.

The usual noises of Bagram came through her open window: the pulse of rotor blades, the muted purr of engines, the bustle of personnel moving around the base. Tomorrow night she’d be hearing nothing but crickets and maybe the occasional howl of a wolf or coyote out on the ranch. The thought made her smile in anticipation.

Approaching footsteps sounded to her right. As she turned her head the opposite door opened and a man started to slide inside. When she saw his profile a tiny shock ran through her. He reached for the door handle, glanced over and froze in place when he saw her, those dark eyes filled with startled recognition.

Sandberg.

He’d shaved, she thought inanely, unable to tear her gaze away. The long, thick beard from yesterday was now trimmed to a very sexy heavy stubble that made him look rugged and intensely masculine.

For a second she floundered for something to say. His big frame seemed to crowd the interior of the Hummer. She was suddenly aware of just how broad his shoulders were, how ripped the muscles in those arms were beneath the sleeves of his snug T-shirt that hugged his powerful chest and flat belly. He was lean though despite that obvious strength, and more than what being in phenomenal shape would do. The slight hollows beneath his cheeks told her he’d been living on a very restricted diet for a long time. She remembered the way he’d watched her yesterday. Stared, actually. With way more than average masculine interest. It had damn near bordered on fascination, like he hadn’t seen a woman in forever. Just where the hell had he been living, and for how long?

“Are you going to Kabul too?” she finally asked when he didn’t say anything, a little discomfited by the unexpected pull of attraction she felt toward him. He was hard and remote, and he had dangerous written all over him. The exact opposite of what she wanted in a man.

“Yeah, the airport. You?” He was doing it again. Staring at her with a mixture of awareness and…veiled interest. As though he was fascinated by each feature on her face and wanted to memorize them. She wasn’t sure if she was flattered or if it made her really damn uncomfortable.

“Flying out at eleven hundred.” Because it was cheaper for Uncle Sam to send her back home on a civilian aircraft out of Kabul than take up valuable room in a military aircraft when it could be transporting supplies or equipment instead.

“To Heathrow?”

She blinked. “Yes.”

“Huh.” He settled back against the seat and broke eye contact, and she noticed he didn’t have a helmet with him. He was wearing a military-issue armored vest though. “What are the odds of that?” he murmured as he stared out the passenger window, effectively ending the brief conversation.

Pretty slim
. She turned her attention back out her window, acutely aware that for the next few hours she’d be stuck beside a man who had her internal female radar pinging like a freaking pinball machine, yet had no interest in talking to her. Yay. Her leave was off to a
fantastic
start.

Danger Close: Chapter Three

 

 

The Humvee Wade sat in was the last in a line of five vehicles. Another one was up front in the lead, with two big supply trucks sandwiched between it and the Humvee directly in front of theirs. They all rolled out together through the main gates, past all the razor wire and the secure perimeter and started out toward Kabul.

It still didn’t feel like enough protection.

Other than his increased vigilance now that they’d left the relative safety of the base and being conscious of the SIGs snug against the small of his back and strapped to his right calf, Wade was vividly aware of the woman beside him. And of the slightly awkward tension in the vehicle now that the initial small talk was out of the way. Behind the wheel the driver, a guy named Thompson, was completely tuning them out as he listened to rap or hiphop or whatever the hell it was he had going from whatever electronic device he’d plugged into the radio deck. Sounded like godawful noise to Wade.

“So, where’s home?” Erin asked him a few minutes into the drive, apparently uncomfortable with the lack of conversation.

“Wyoming.” Technically. The word
home
evoked memories of the house he’d grown up in as a kid, but that was long gone, torn down nearly fifteen years ago. He didn’t have anywhere in particular to go now, so he’d probably rent a cabin or something up in the Blue Ridge Mountains once he was done in Langley, to reacclimate for a while. It was going to take time to fit back into society and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever feel comfortable in it again. When Erin kept looking at him he realized he was being rude by not extending the basic courtesy of lobbing the conversation ball back over the net to her. “You?”

“Montana. Just outside of Billings. Where are you from in Wyoming?”

“Near Jackson Hole.” Not that far from Billings.

She was quiet for a moment, then picked up the thread of conversation when he let it lapse for too long. “Do you ride horses?”

He turned his head to look at her again. She was watching him, those expressive green eyes full of curiosity. “Yeah, practically grew up in the saddle.”

Her excited smile made her eyes sparkle, and something about the sight damn near mesmerized him. She wore her emotions right out there in the open, something that was as foreign to him now as fast food and booze. “Me too. I can’t wait to get home and take my horse out. He’s at my parents’ ranch.”

Wade nodded to show he was listening, actually enjoying the sound of her voice, which surprised him, since small talk had always bugged the ever living shit out of him. He thought back to the last time he’d been in the saddle, when he’d been riding an ugly-ass mule in the Kush back in his SF days. Before that, it’d been years before when he’d worked as a ranch hand prior to joining the Army. Sometimes he missed those days, the freedom he’d always felt on horseback, out roaming the hills and coulees by himself. Still made some of his fondest memories.

They lapsed into silence after that, but it felt less strained this time and he was glad, because this time she seemed content not to fill the quiet. As a nurse, she’d be used to working with and handling people all day. He’d once been a people person too, for all his introverted nature, which was why he’d done so well in SF, because a good chunk of his career had been spent training indigenous forces. Since going undercover, that had all changed. He’d sometimes gone weeks without interacting with anyone other than Rahim, and even then a lot of the time it had been over the phone. Somewhere along the way he’d lost that engaging part of his personality. He was harder now, more remote, but he’d had no choice because it had been either adapt or die.

That was another reason why he wasn’t comfortable engaging in small talk while they were out here in no man’s land. He didn’t like letting his focus wander even that much, and doubted he’d ever get used to western social norms ever again.

Grateful for the quiet again as the minutes ticked by—the damned rap music coming from the radio notwithstanding—he peered through the windshield and saw the first checkpoint coming up. Eventually the convoy slowed and ground to a halt. Wade kept his attention on what was happening around them, ready to act if his gut told him they were in any sort of danger. He also knew the others in the vehicle were oblivious to his hyper vigilance and the reasons for it.

While security made up of Afghan police and military inspected the forward vehicles, a guard came over to collect their travel documents. Wade watched the man’s face carefully as he checked the photo in his passport and glanced up to study him. When he handed it back and moved on to Erin’s without further investigation, Wade allowed himself to relax a little. The guard finished his check and waved them forward. Once they passed through the gate without incident, Wade eased back against the seat and placed his hands on his thighs, away from the grips of the concealed pistols. He watched in the passenger side mirror just to assure himself there was nothing funny happening behind them and no one following them.

“Something wrong?” Erin asked him.

“No.” He didn’t want to worry her, but he couldn’t let his guard down until that plane lifted off the tarmac in Kabul. Rahim had an extensive network and there was no telling who might be a threat out here.

She studied him for a moment longer, as if she wasn’t sold on the denial, then went back to staring out her window. Wade stole a glance at her profile. The curve of her cheek looked so soft and smooth, and that dusting of freckles across her nose was downright adorable on her. When she turned her head and caught him staring, he felt himself flush, but she didn’t seem annoyed or offended. Rather, she let her gaze travel over his face for a moment before meeting his eyes, and if he wasn’t mistaken she seemed to like what she saw.

“Can I ask you something?”

He might be rusty when it came to making conversation, let alone with a woman, but in his experience when a female phrased a question like that, it was gonna be really damn personal. Since he was going to be trapped beside her for the next long while, there was no escape except to be rude and shut her down, which he didn’t have the heart to do. Digging deep for the forgotten social niceties his mother had drummed into him as a kid, he answered. “Sure.”

“I assume you’re not current military, so what are you? A contractor?”

Close enough. “Yeah.”

Those intelligent eyes kept cataloguing his features and he knew she was studying him from the perspective of both a soldier and a medical professional. He was pretty sure she’d already figured out far more about him than she was letting on.

“Bet it’s been a while since you ate American-style food, huh?”

Yep, definitely putting it all together in that pretty little head. He nodded in acknowledgement and braced himself for more questions, the inevitable lies he’d have to feed her to protect his identity, but she surprised him by letting it go to stare out her window once more.

They rode in silence for the next forty minutes until the convoy began to slow when they reached the next checkpoint, the last one before they hit Kabul. Wade watched as the military guards approached the vehicles. This time a few of the soldiers climbed into the back of the supply trucks ahead to inspect the cargo. He could see two other guards talking to the driver and passengers of the lead Humvee. The taller of the two guards sent to inspect the first vehicle talked to the occupants for what seemed a lot longer than necessary, and by the time he and his partner turned and headed toward their vehicle, Wade’s instincts were already humming.

“Passports,” the guy said to Thompson in heavily accented English as he scanned the interior. His gaze fell on Wade and he paused for just a fraction of a second before taking their ID from Thompson. Wade kept his attention riveted on the man as he perused the documents and glanced up at Erin before swinging his eyes back to Wade. “Wait here,” he told Thompson, and motioned for his partner to come over. They stood far enough back from the truck that Wade couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was clear from the surprise on the second man’s face that whatever the first one said meant bad news. Ahead of them, the first Humvee and both supply trucks started through the checkpoint.

“Taking their sweet fucking time clearing us, aren’t they?” Thompson muttered in annoyance. Being isolated from the rest of the convoy was definitely cause for concern.

The first guard said something into his radio that Wade didn’t catch, then turned and headed for the guardhouse. When the second guard stared at them and held up a hand to make sure they stayed where they were, the alarm in Wade’s head started blaring. Something was definitely wrong.

Move.

He cursed in Pashto and jerked forward to grab Thompson’s shoulder. “Get us outta here.” Erin stiffened and shot him a disbelieving look but Wade didn’t take his eyes off the second guard.

Thompson cranked his head around to gape at Wade, opening his mouth to say something, but Wade cut him off. “Right fucking
now
,” he snarled, just as more guards exited the little building and started toward them, weapons at the ready. Erin sucked in a breath and froze in her seat. Wade didn’t look at her.

Other books

A Name in Blood by Matt Rees
To Honor by Krieger, D.F.
Assignment Gestapo by Sven Hassel
Paradise Lane by Ruth Hamilton
The Color of Night by Madison Smartt Bell
Nowhere To Run by Carolyn Davidson
The Deeper We Get by Jessica Gibson
Cellar Door by Suzanne Steele