Raptor 6 (21 page)

Zahrah blinked.

He ran a hand over his head and the back of his neck. “Sorry.” Seeing him contain his anger, reel it in, poured more respect for him into her soul. “I can’t protect you if you stay. You realize that, right?”

His broken words wilted something inside her. “That’s not your job, Dean. It belongs to God.”

He hopped a step closer, shoulder angling in again. “What if
I
am God’s protection—what if
He
sent
me
to warn you?”

Zahrah tilted her head, surprised at the direction he’d taken. “Well, if it is …” He had a point. Was she wrong? Should she leave? He had the experience and intel to know when things were dangerous.

A strange rush of hope filled her. Should she leave? Be safe, back in Virginia, with Daddy? It’d be so nice. She felt a pang of guilt for the small longing that lurked deep in her stomach.

Should I leave, Lord?

No
. The word was simple but strong.

“If God had sent you to warn me, then I’d leave.” And she meant it. She trusted Dean Watters like few others.

Some of the tension seemed to drain out of his shoulders. Just a little. “Then you’ll go?”

Frustration began to nudge aside her soft answers. But she tamed that urge, knowing Dean would feed off that. “I’m supposed to stay, for the children, and for”—some other reason she couldn’t yet name. Was she staring at that reason? Was it
him
?—“for now. I’m sorry if it makes you angry.” She’d do almost anything to make that expression on his face go away. The one that rejected her answer, rejected
her
. In her need to smooth the rippled waters, she offered, “Call me to make sure I’m still alive.” She meant it as a lighthearted commented. But his eyes darkened.

“Even if you die? Even if staying means your death?” It was meant as a challenge. Maybe even a threat.

There were many horrible deaths a woman could die here. The thought made her shudder. “Yes.”

Jaw muscle popping, he gave a shrug-nod. “Fine.” He took a step back. “We tried.” A quick nod again. “Good-bye.” Dean pivoted and stalked off, his broad shoulders taut as the rest of his team clustered to him like a magnet before climbing into a black truck a half mile away.

She’d lost one of the most precious children today, possibly her job as a teacher since there was no school, and now … perhaps the only man she might have been able to love.

Camp Marmal, Mazar-e Sharif
05 June—1140 Hours

T
his couldn’t happen. Not again. First his sister, then Ellen. Screams pierced his thoughts. He clenched his eyes tight against the memory. Against the grief. Dean ran both hands over his head, down the back of his neck. Not again. Not again. Just can’t.

He’d be hanged if he was supposed to send another body home because he came up short and innocents paid.

How
—how
—was he supposed to fight against God and divine purpose in an argument? There was no fighting conviction like that. No fighting radical faith. Why did it anger him so much that she rejected his solution that maybe God sent him?

He punched the dash. Felt the eyes of Falcon on him, but he had enough sense not to comment. Instead, he accelerated.

Dean’s sat phone rang. “Go ahead.”

“Watters, where are you?” General Burnett demanded.

“En route to the base, sir.”

“Good. Call me up when you get there. Raptor’s on the next plane out.”

He straightened in the seat. Had he heard correctly? “Yes, sir.” It angered him that she’d been right—God hadn’t sent him to protect her. He couldn’t do that if the CIC wanted them in another country. “General wants us in the command center ASAP.”

“Aw man, I had a date,” Hawk muttered.

Falcon chuckled. “You mean with the girl who couldn’t stand talking to you?”

“She was dumbstruck by my wiles,” Hawk said.

“Dumbstruck by your
dumb
ness!”

Falcon returned the truck to the motor pool and the team piled out. As he made his way back to the sub-base, Dean couldn’t shake a dread that had a fist hold on his throat. Zahrah wouldn’t have anyone to contact if something happened. She’d be alone.

Why did she believe in God more than Dean? So willing to put herself in the hands of an intangible God than a man with an M4.

Same reason you tattooed those wings on your back
.

He couldn’t fight her logic, but he wanted to. With both hands, feet, his Beretta M9 and M4.
God … You did it for me. Do it for her. Keep her alive. Please
.

“She say no?” The quiet, firm voice of Titanis punched a breathing hole through Dean’s thoughts.

He slumped back against the chair. Shook his head, still unable to understand her bullheadedness. “She won’t go. Says she’ll trust God.”

“Can’t argue that, mate.”

“Can’t I?” Dean held out his hands and shrugged. “Look, I get faith. I believe in God. I know He works miracles and all that, but … isn’t there a line between faith and”—he hated to say it—“stupidity?” Straightening in the metal folding chair, he placed a hand over his chest. “God has me here, a part of elite security forces. To protect people just like her. But she won’t let me do my job.”

“Tough call that one, but theology later,” Straider said, clapping a hand on his shoulder then pointing toward the sub-base command center.

Rolling up his frustration, his anger at Zarrick, and the unshakeable fear that stalked him down the narrow hall lined with pictures of home, pictures of dignitaries who’d visited, Dean vowed to try once more to convince her to leave. Then if she still refused, her safety was in her own hands.

Undisclosed Location

Someone really should clue the six stooges into the fact that their secure location isn’t quite so secure. Then again, if someone did that, I’d be out of a job.

Huh. More like out of a life.

So far, they haven’t provided quite enough to bring down hail-fire rain on themselves. But it will happen. Eventually. I just have to log a few more hours. Maybe a few more months. Who cares with the eight-digit paycheck sitting in my accounts?

“So, what’d she say? She’s leaving, right?”

Hawk always makes me pay attention. Never know what’s going to come out of the guy’s mouth. He’s not stupid. Just straightforward. I like that.

Annnd … of course, Raptor Six doesn’t answer. Man of few words. But he sits at his computer and starts banging on the keyboard. In seconds, the team gathers around him.

“Guess she said no,” Hawk mutters.

Really, did anyone besides me see that coming? The girl might be sweet and might not have nerves of steel, but she doesn’t strike me as one to whimper and lie down at the first sign of opposition. For cryin’ out loud, she’s a general’s daughter.

The team closes in as Raptor Six ignores the question Hawk posed. Closes in—and perfectly closes
off
my view via the hidden camera. Dunces.

“C’mon, c’mon.” Seeing what he accesses goes a long way in my filing a full report. Incomplete report equals angry evil overlord. But they still aren’t yielding. I drum my fingers. Growl.

“Move!” Shouting at them doesn’t do any good, but I feel better. Or not. “Your lazy carcasses are blocking my view.” Really, not a bad problem. Unless they stay there the whole time and go silent on me.

“Ah, Raptor …
team
.”

Angry they’re still blocking my view of the monitor, I hit the voice analyzer and wait as it drums up the information.

“Good. I need you all there anyway.” Hold up—is this the big cheese, Burnett? Sounds like him. But I’m waiting for the computer to verify it.

“Sorry, sir. I just wanted to code in and let you know Zarrick refused to leave.”

Sir. That means a superior, and by my estimation—a noise blips to my right and confirms my suspicions: Burnett, Lance, General.

Alrighty then. Time to listen a little more carefully.

“Yeah, well, we got bigger problems. I’ve got intel from Ramsey that demands you head to Majorca.”

Silence drops on the command center like a concussive boom. Only … quieter.

“Majorca,” Raptor Six repeats. He sounds a little stunned.

Same here.
Dude, can I go, too?

Falcon leans one hand on the desk. “Want to explain this very big diversion from our current mission, sir?”

“No.”

I laugh. Nothing like the general’s dour attitude to lighten conversation.

“Ramsey gave me some credible leads on those SCIFs you stumbled upon. The containers have been traced back to Majorca.”

This is when I wish I had taken a course in shorthand. But I’m scribbling as fast as I can. Boss Man will need to know about this.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Tell me what does, Bledsoe.” Burnett never tolerated anyone giving him lip. At least, not while I was listening in. “But we’ve got a lead, and we’re not letting this rest till we’ve stripped away every secret and found out who’s behind it.”

“When do we leave?” Raptor Six runs a hand over his short, dark hair.

“Next flight departs at fifteen hundred.”

“Tomorrow.” Russo huffs.

“Sir, I don’t believe it’s wise to leave Zarrick here unprotected. She’s … she’s in danger, sir.”

“Well, let’s just hope her secret doesn’t make it past this room.”

Oh man. Laughing here is so wrong, but I can’t resist. “Trust me, General,” I say, calling up the boss man on my secure phone. “It does. It goes
way
beyond.”

Sub-base Schwarzburg, Camp Marmal
Mazar-e Sharif, Balkh Province
05 June—1750 Hours

“Captain!” Hawk, a wad of food in his left cheek, grinned as he leaned back in a chair around the conference table. “You were so ticked out there, I knew she said no.” His grin was enough that Dean saw pearly whites he’d willingly knock out. “What’d I tell you? She’s staying.”

Dean glared at him. At Falcon and Harrier and Knight with Ddrake snoozing at his handler’s feet.

After swallowing whatever he’d been eating, Bledsoe punched to his feet with a
“Hooah!”
Laughing, he held out his palm to the others. “Time to pay up, brothers.” The others handed over fives to Hawk, who made no apologies for his enthusiasm or being right. He pocketed the money and moved back to his seat. As he went to sit, Dean strode past and gave him a little shove.

He toppled back, caught himself as his face went wide with shock, then righted himself. “Sir, pardon my saying so, but you’ve got some serious attitude going on. She mean that much to you?”

Falcon said, “Unless you want us to pin you down and ink your back like we’ve been promising—”

“Hey.” Hawk pointed toward the Italian he could take any day of the year. “Leave the body alone. It’s mine. A sacred temple.”

“Well, sit your sacred temple down and shut it,” Dean said as he logged into the terminal.

“What do we do about the girl while we’re gone? About both of them?”

“Nothing,” Titanis replied.

“You have to do something.” Knight grunted.

“How many tours you done?” Falcon asked.

Silence drenched the encounter, then, “This is my first.”

Hawk chuckled.