Six Minutes to Midnight

by Elle James

  He’s a navy SEAL who’s highly trained for any assignment.

  So why can’t he resist the woman he’s vowed to protect?

  Navy SEAL “T-Mac” Trace McGuire is assigned to protect army specialist Kinsley Anderson and Agar, her IED-detecting dog. When they’re shot at and nearly blown up, T-Mac admires Kinsley’s ability to hold her own. On the run from terrorists, T-Mac is trained to ensure their safety and survival in the African desert. He’s prepared for every scenario but one: falling for the woman whose life is in his hands.

  Mission: Six

  T-Mac cleared his throat. “Since you don’t need me, I’ll go.”

  Kinsley’s eyes flew open. “Do you have to?”

  He shrugged. “No. My buddies are covering for me with my commander.”

  She held out her hand. “I think they gave me a sedative. Could you stay until I go to sleep?” Her lips twisted. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  He chuckled. “Playing second fiddle to a dog isn’t quite a compliment, but I’ll take it.”

  T-Mac pulled the chair close and gathered her hand in his, reveling at how small it was in his, yet how strong and supple her fingers were.

  Agar leaned his long snout over Kinsley’s body, sniffed T-Mac’s hand once and then laid his head back on Kinsley’s other side, seemingly satisfied T-Mac wouldn’t harm the dog handler.

  For a long moment, she said nothing.

  T-Mac assumed she was sleeping.

  “Don’t tell anyone,” Kinsley whispered, her eyes closed, her breathing slow and steady.

  T-Mac stroked the back of her hand. “Tell anyone what?”

  “That the tough-as-nails army soldier needed to hold a navy SEAL’s hand.”

  SIX MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT

  New York Times Bestselling Author

  Elle James

  Elle James, a New York Times bestselling author, started writing when her sister challenged her to write a romance novel. She has managed a full-time job and raised three wonderful children, and she and her husband even tried ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas). Ask her, and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry 350-pound bird! Elle loves to hear from fans at ellejames@earthlink.net or ellejames.com.

  Books by Elle James

  Harlequin Intrigue

  Mission: Six

  One Intrepid SEAL

  Two Dauntless Hearts

  Three Courageous Words

  Four Relentless Days

  Five Ways to Surrender

  Six Minutes to Midnight

  Ballistic Cowboys

  Hot Combat

  Hot Target

  Hot Zone

  Hot Velocity

  SEAL of My Own

  Navy SEAL Survival

  Navy SEAL Captive

  Navy SEAL to Die For

  Navy SEAL Six Pack

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

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  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  “T-Mac” Trace McGuire—US Navy SEAL, communications man, equipment expert.

  Specialist Kinsley Anderson—US Army, dog handler.

  Sergeant Agar—German shepherd, US Army military working dog.

  “Buck” Graham Buckner—US Navy SEAL, team medic. Went to medical school but didn’t finish. Joined the navy and became a SEAL.

  “Diesel” Dalton Samuel Landon—US Navy SEAL. Gunner and team lead.

  “Pitbull” Percy Taylor—US Navy SEAL. Tough guy who doesn’t date much. Raised by a taciturn marine father. Lives by the rules and structure. SOC-R boat captain.

  “Harm” Harmon Payne—US Navy SEAL. For a big guy, he’s light on his feet and fast. Good at silent entry into buildings.

  “Big Jake” Schuler—US Navy SEAL, demolitions expert. Big guy with a big heart he’s afraid to give to any one woman. His job as a SEAL is his life.

  William Toland—Construction contractor.

  Reese Brantley—Medically retired from active duty with the US Army, veteran of mixed martial arts fighting, now a bodyguard for hire in the DC area.

  Alexandria “Alex” Parker—Teacher living with a missionary family. She came for the adventure and to teach village children and orphans.

  Dr. Angela Vega—Provided medical care for people in South Sudan with Doctors Without Borders. Now working in Bethesda, Maryland, at Walter Reed Medical Center.

  Marly Simpson—Former bush pilot in Africa, now flying charter in the Virginia and Washington, DC, area. Her father was a bush pilot in Africa and taught her to fly.

  Talia Montclair—Former owner/operator of the All Things Wild Resort in Kenya.

  I’d like to dedicate this book to the military working dogs, who are such an important addition to our fighting forces. They are loyal, smart and dedicated to doing what they do best. Friends of mine adopted a retired military working dog, which gave me the idea to include him in this book. Agar, thanks for your service!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Missing in Conard County by Rachel Lee

  Chapter One

  “Four days and a wakeup,” Trace McGuire, T-Mac to his friends, said as he sat across the table in the chow hall on Camp Lemonnier. They’d returned from their last mission in Niger with news they were scheduled to redeploy back to the States.

  He glanced around the table at his friends. When they were deployed, they spent practically every waking hour together. In the past, being stateside was about the same. They’d go to work, train, get briefed, work out and then go back to their apartments. Most of the time, they’d end up at one of the team members’ places to watch football, cook out or just lounge around and shoot the crap with each other. They were like family and never seemed to get tired of each other’s company.

  T-Mac suspected all that was about to change. All of his closest SEAL buddies had women in their lives now. All except him. Suddenly, going back to Virginia wasn’t quite as appealing as it had been in the past. T-Mac sighed and drank his lukewarm coffee.

  “I can’t wait to see Reese.” Diesel tapped a finger against the rim of his coffee cup. “I promised to take her on a real date when I get back to civilization.”

  “What? You’re not going to take her swinging through the jungle, communing with the gorillas?” Buck teased.

  Petty Officer Dalton Samuel Landon, otherwise known as Diesel, shook his head. “Nope. Been there, done that. I think I’ll take her to a restaurant where we don’t have to forage for food. Then maybe we’ll go out to a nightclub.” He tipped his head to the side. “I wonder if she likes to dance.”

  “You mean you don’t know?” Big Jake Schuler, the tallest man on the team, rolled his eyes. “I would have thought that in the time you two spent traipsing along the Congo River, you would know everything there was to know about each other.”

  Diesel frowned.
“I know what’s important. She’s not fragile, she can climb a tree when she needs to, she doesn’t fall apart when someone’s shooting at her and she can kiss like nobody’s business.” Diesel shrugged. “In fact, I’m looking forward to learning more. She’s amazing. How many female bodyguards do you know?”

  Big Jake held up his hands in surrender. “You got me there. None.”

  “I can’t wait to see Angela.” Corpsman Graham “Buck” Buckner, the team medic, smiled. “She’s interviewing for positions around Little Creek.”

  “With her doctor credentials, and the work she did with Doctors Without Borders, she’s sure to get on pretty quickly,” Big Jake said. “If not one of the military hospitals, there are lots of civilian hospitals and clinics in the area.”

  Buck nodded. “I can’t believe after all these years, she’d want to be close to me.” He smiled. “I’m one lucky guy.”

  “Yeah, and maybe she’ll talk you into going back to school to finish your medical degree.” Built solid like a tank, Percy Taylor had the tenacity of a pit bull, thus his nickname, Pitbull. He gave Buck a chin lift. “You’d make a good doc.”

  “What?” Buck spread his arms wide. “And give up all this?”

  T-Mac chuckled. “I know. It’s hard to believe anyone would want to stop being on call at all hours of the day and night, deploying to some of the worst hellholes on the planet and not getting back to see your family for months on end. Who would want to give up all that?”

  “Hey, are we getting cynical in our old age?” Harmon Payne clapped a hand on T-Mac’s back. “We’re the ones who are going to suffer. We all have women to come home to now.”

  “All except T-Mac,” Buck pointed out. “Maybe we should fix him up with someone? You think one of our women knows someone who could put up with his being a computer nerd and all?”

  T-Mac shook his head. “I don’t need help getting a date, thank you very much.”

  “I’ll bet Reese has met some pretty hot chicks in the DC area through her work as a bodyguard,” Diesel said. “Or maybe she still has some connections in the mixed-martial-arts community. One of those women are bound to be able to stand toe-to-toe with our guy.”

  “Seriously.” T-Mac pushed to his feet. “I don’t need a woman in my life. You all know how hard our lives are without relationships. I’m surprised all you self-confirmed bachelors broke the cardinal rule.”

  Pitbull stabbed the mystery meat on his tray with his fork and held it in the air, inspecting it with a frown. “What cardinal rule?”

  T-Mac pounded his fist on the table. “Don’t get into a permanent relationship as long as you’re a full-time SEAL.”

  “Nope.” Harm’s eyes narrowed and his lips twisted. “I don’t remember that line in the BUD/S training manual.”

  “Before we came to Africa,” T-Mac reminded them, “we were drinking beer and talking about how we didn’t have wives and kids—”

  “Ha!” Pitbull held up a finger. “We were drinking beer. That’s where we got off track.”

  Swallowing his irritation, T-Mac continued. “We all agreed that relationships were doomed to failure as long as we were doing the jobs we do. No woman will be satisfied being on a part-time status, what with us shipping out as often as we do to fight some battle nobody else wants.”

  “Then I found Marly,” Pitbull said. “She can stand on her own two feet. And we get along pretty well.” He smiled, his rugged face softening. “She’s even getting me to like flying in crop dusters. And she’s found a charter company in Virginia that wants her to pilot for them. She won’t be waiting around for me to come home. Hell, we’ll be lucky to be home at the same time.”

  “Exactly,” T-Mac said. “And how’s that going to work for you? You won’t see each other.”

  Pitbull frowned. “We’ll find time.” His frown turned upside down. “And when we do...yup.” He nodded. “We’ll find time. I’m not ready to give up on her, and I don’t think she’ll give up on me.”

  “The point you’re missing, T-Mac, is that we found women who can stand on their own,” Harm said. “They don’t need us any more than we need them. We want to be together. And that makes all the difference.”

  “Uh-huh.” T-Mac knew they wouldn’t listen. His five friends were so besotted by their women, they couldn’t see past the rose-colored glasses to reality. He might as well save his breath.

  “Guys.” Buck stared around the table at everyone but T-Mac and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We’ve got to get T-Mac laid. He’s strung way too tight. He’s likely to blow a gasket soon.”

  “What’s the use?” T-Mac pushed to his feet. “We’re headed home in four days. Let’s not screw anything up between now and then.”

  “What could possibly go wrong?” Buck asked with a grin and then ducked as everyone else threw their napkins and food at him.

  Pitbull snorted. “Thanks for jinxing us, dirtbag.”

  “You guys can hang around talking about your women you’ll rarely see. I’m going for a run.” T-Mac walked out of the chow hall to the laughter of his friends.

  “Gotta get him a girl,” Buck said.

  As T-Mac rounded the corner of one of the stacks of shipping containers that had been outfitted to become sleeping quarters, a hard object landed at his feet.

  He jumped back, his heart racing, his first thought Grenade! Then a hair missile barreled toward him, all four legs moving like a blur.

  T-Mac braced himself for impact.

  The black-faced, sable German shepherd skidded to a stop, pushing up a cloud of dust in the process. He grabbed the object in his teeth and raced back the way he’d come.

  “Agar, heel!” a female voice commanded.

  The animal stopped immediately at the female soldier’s side, dropped the hard rubber object on the ground and stared up at the woman as if eagerly awaiting the next command.

  “Good dog.” She patted him on the head and then glanced up. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were there until after I’d thrown his KONG.” Her hand continued to stroke the dog’s head.

  T-Mac stared at the woman, who was wearing camouflage pants, boots and a desert-tan T-shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a bun that had long since lost its shape. Coppery red strands danced in the breeze. She returned his stare with a direct green-eyed gaze. “If you’re afraid of Agar, I’ll hold him while you pass.” She cocked an auburn eyebrow.

  “What?” T-Mac shook his head. “I’m not afraid of the dog. Just startled.”

  “Then don’t let us keep you.” She snapped the lead on the dog’s collar and straightened.

  Curiosity made T-Mac ask, “You’re new at Camp Lemonnier?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve been here a week, if you consider that new.”

  He laughed. “I do. And I just got back to camp, or I’m sure I’d have seen you.” There weren’t too many good-looking redheaded females in the world, much less in Djibouti. “Hi, I’m Petty Officer Trace McGuire. My friends call me T-Mac.” He took a step forward, slowly so as not to alert the dog, and held out his hand.

  She clasped it in a firm grip. “Specialist Kinsley Anderson.” She glanced down at the dog. “And this is Sergeant Agar.”

  T-Mac dropped to one knee in front of the German shepherd and held out his hand.

  Agar placed a paw in his palm.

  With a chuckle, T-Mac shook the dog’s paw and then stood. “He’s very well trained. What’s his mission?”

  “Bomb sniffing.”

  “Bomb sniffing?” T-Mac glanced again at the woman. He hadn’t really thought about females on the front line. But with the army graduating females from Ranger School, it was a natural progression.

  “Well, I hope you don’t have to put that skill to use anytime soon.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her chin. “We came here to do a job. I’m not af
raid.”

  Having seen his share of action and lost members of his team to gunfire and explosions, T-Mac didn’t wish any of it on anyone. But a person had to live through the horrors of war to truly understand how terrible it was. He couldn’t begin to explain it to the shiny new specialist who’d probably never been shot at or stood next to a man who’d been blown away by an IED.

  And he had no business chatting up a female soldier when fraternization was strictly forbidden on deployment. Especially since it could lead to nothing and he and his team would be shipping out in four sleeps and a wakeup. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

  “Same,” she said, then grabbed the KONG and took off with Agar in the opposite direction.

  As T-Mac continued on toward his quarters, he couldn’t help sighing. He’d never considered dating a redhead, but something about Specialist Anderson made him reconsider. Perhaps it was the way her coppery hair seemed out of control, or the light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Or maybe it was the way she absently, or automatically, stroked the dog’s head, showing it affection without having to think about it. Either way, she was off-limits and he was leaving. Once again he reminded himself, Don’t get involved.

  * * *

  KINSLEY HURRIED PAST the navy guy. She’d spent the past two hours working with Agar, keeping his skills fresh and helping him burn off energy. Now it was her turn.

  Though she’d been in the country for a week, she and Agar had been tasked only with inspecting vehicles entering Camp Lemonnier. Thankfully, they hadn’t found any carrying explosives. Training sessions were a must, or Agar might forget what he was looking for and Kinsley might not pick up on the behavior Agar displayed when he sensed he’d found something.

  Meanwhile, her male counterpart had gone out on missions with the Special Operations Forces into more hostile environments, working ahead of the teams to clear their routes of IEDs.

  Kinsley had signed on as a dog handler because she loved dogs and because she wanted to make a difference for her country and her brothers in arms.