She made a disgusted noise at him. "On behalf of my entire gender, I am seriously offended by that."
"Yeah, well, I don't see a ring on your finger either, babe. Why is that?"
Syd gripped the wheel. "None of your business."
"Touche."
Syd had a feeling there was more to his curt dismissal, though. She remembered the file on him that she'd been reading that morning before she'd picked him up. He'd been engaged at the time they'd arrested him. "Does your opinion of women include Melissa?"
He frowned. "Who?"
"Your fiance?"
"Margaret," he said quietly. "Her name was Margaret."
"Sorry. Didn't she aggravate you too?"
"Yes, which is why we'd broken up a year before my episode with my CO."
"Your file said you were still engaged at the time of your arrest."
'My file," he said in a totally dispassionate voice, "was wrong. I dumped her the day I opened the door to her apartment and found her on her knees with another guy in front of her. Kind of killed any thoughts I had of having a future with her."
Her stomach shrank in sympathy for him. Man, that was a harsh way to learn someone was cheating on you. Poor guy.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It was probably the best thing that could have happened to the two of us. Believe me, there wasn't any love lost. And at least I found out the truth before it cost me half of everything I own.... Then again, all I own right now is a headache. Maybe I should have married her after all. I'd love to split this with her."
Syd gave a half laugh at his humor. He was definitely one of a kind. "What was so special about her that ye who profane marriage so emphatically actually asked her to marry you?"
"She could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch.... Too bad she didn't limit herself to one make or model."
Syd cringed at his crude words. "You pig! You are so offensive."
He let out a long breath. "Yeah. I try hard at it too."
And in that moment, she understood what he was doing. He was trying to keep the wall up between them...and he was doing a good job of it.
"Really, Steele, why did you ask her to marry you?"
He paused as if he were trying to recall the reason himself. "I don't know. It seemed like the thing to do at the time. We'd been going out for a year, and she kept hinting at it. Teresa, my spotter's wife, said that it was time I either made an honest woman of her or let her go."
"So you proposed."
"Yeah. I still don't know why. Not really. She was all right, but the worst part was that after we broke up, I actually felt relieved."
She glanced over at him. "Do you think you asked because you wanted a family?"
Steele didn't speak as her words went through him. Damn, she was astute. Frighteningly so. It wasn't something he liked to talk about, but yes. He'd spent way too many hours watching those corny TV shows as a kid where Dad was there with Mom. His own family had been far too dysfunctional for him.
He'd always wanted that special loving relationship, like some pathetic sitcom. How could a grown man be so stupid as to hold on to such a dream? And yet there was no denying what he felt.
"What about you, Syd? Is there some agent or other hanging around who curls your toes?"
She cast him a feral glare. "No, and there never will be."
"Why not?"
"I don't trust you guys. You're always bragging and strutting around like you own the world. The last thing I want to be is some guy's doormat."
He nodded. "I can respect that." He fell silent as he watched the traffic out the window. "Why does Hollywood fill us so full of shit anyway?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know. The whole one man, one woman for eternity baloney. Here they are, Mr. and Mrs. Brady and their perfect six kids, running around a house with only one bathroom for nine people. No one ever really fighting, and every dilemma in life has a perfect solution that only takes half an hour to reach." He sighed.
"I don't know," she said in a distracted voice, as if she were really thinking about it. "I guess 'cause deep down we all want the fantasy of it. It would be a nice life, wouldn't it?"
One corner of his lips quirked up. "I don't know. You don't strike me as the stay-at-home mom."
She smiled. "Not unless she's undercover and armed to the teeth." She gave him a strange look that made something inside him ache. "Tell me something, Steele."
"What?"
"What is it with you guys that you--" She paused, as if she had caught herself in the middle of a thought. "Never mind."
Even more curious, he sat up in the seat. "Never mind, what?"
"Nothing. It's stupid."
He could tell that she wanted to change the subject, even though he was dying for an answer. Deciding that it wasn't wise to question her further while she was packing heat, he found himself wondering what it would be like to date Syd. She didn't strike him as the kind of woman to dote on a man. No doubt she'd be the kind to kick his ass and make him go get it himself.
"How long has it been since you had a steady boyfriend?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. Define steady."
"Someone who has a key to your place."
She answered without any hesitation. "Never. I don't trust any man with a key to my place. What's mine is mine, and I like to keep it that way."
Hmm...he'd misjudged her there. "Why? You cheat too?"
"No!" she said in an extremely offended tone. "I would never do that to someone. I think Margaret should have had her butt kicked for doing it to you. You don't hurt people that way."
By her indignation, he could tell that she'd experienced that betrayal firsthand herself. "I agree. A pox on all their houses."
Her face softened into that gentleness that had a way of setting him on fire. "I like your take on Shakespeare."
Steele sat quietly as he watched her navigate traffic. She was still looking around, aware of every car in front and behind them. She was so incredibly capable. But more than that, she was beguiling.
Before long, he found himself staring at those lips again. Lips he could still feel against his. And as he watched her, he realized something. "Where are your glasses, Syd?"
"I'm wearing contacts. I was afraid that we might have to do some running around, and it's hard to shoot straight with them slipping down my nose."
He laughed at the thought of that. God, she was beautiful with her black hair down and her sharp green eyes flashing. After their escapade that morning, he should be sated.
He wasn't. If they weren't being chased, he'd ask her to pull over right now and see about the new ache he had.
But he couldn't afford to do that.
And for that he owed the assassin an ass-whipping before he killed him. Not that it really mattered. Knowing Syd, she'd rack him if he even suggested another romp.
Still, he wanted to reach over and touch her. To bury his face against the softness of her neck and just inhale that sweet perfume of hers. There was something about her that just calmed him down. Made him ache and yet at the same time excited him. If he could have one wish, it would be to have one single day with her in his bed.
Yeah, that would be heaven....
They rode for miles in silence as Syd continued her surveillance and Steele tried his best to ignore her presence.
Steele's body continued to ache as he fought against sleep. The last thing he needed was to be sluggish if Syd needed him. But even so, he found himself drifting in and out of consciousness.
"We're getting near Calverton," Syd said, jerking him out of his catnap. "Where are we headed?"
Clearing his throat, he opened his eyes and looked around. There wasn't much but open farmland surrounding them. "I don't know. Pull over at the first Pop-owned hardware store you see, and I'll make an inquiry."
"What?"
"Have faith in me, Syd. Jack isn't the kind of person to trust others. I'm sure he's holed up somewhere out in the middle of nowhere and
has barricaded himself in for the duration. He can go without food, but he'll never go without tools. Since he doesn't like big stores, he'll have bonded with whoever owns the smallest hardware in town."
He half expected her to argue more, but for once she didn't. Instead, she followed his orders as she left the highway and then pulled in at a small, independent hardware store.
Steele took a minute to survey the area in case they'd been followed before he got out and headed into the store, with Syd one step behind him.
A tiny bell sounded as they entered the dusty place.
There were two men inside around the age of fifty, standing at the counter and chatting about the weather and what they thought it would do to the crops.
The one behind the counter, who was dressed in overalls and a dark blue shirt, looked up at him. "Can I help you, son?"
"Yeah. I'm looking for Jack Taylor. I know he comes in here from time to time, and I was wondering if you could direct me to his house."
The customer frowned but didn't speak.
The man behind the counter leaned over to grab a plastic Coke bottle that was under the cash register. He spit his tobacco juice into it, then set it back.
He chewed on the tobacco so slowly that Steele could almost swear he saw the man's mind working on whether or not he should say anything. "I don't know you from Adam, son. Why would I tell you something like that, even if I knew it?"
Steele exchanged a look with Syd over his shoulder. "I'm a friend of his from the Army. If you have his number, you can call him up and verify it."
"I don't know no Jack Taylor. Sorry."
Steele knew the man was lying. He could tell it by his expression. "C'mon. I really need to talk to him. My name is J.D. Steele, and--"
"Steele?" The man burst out laughing as he slapped one hand down on the counter. "You're not the same Steele who lost his rifle during training, are you?" The older man looked over to the other guy with him and patted him on the chest. "Get this, Gil, the rifle was tied to him on a string, and still the poor sumbitch lost it."
They both laughed.
Steele felt the heat crawl over his face at the reminder of one of his less than stellar moments in the military. "Yeah, that was me, and I didn't lose it. An asshole cut the string and stole it, then hid it."
"Sure he did."
Steele growled low in his throat as he turned to see Syd with an expression that said she was trying hard not to laugh too.
Personally, he didn't find it funny, since that little prank had gotten him into all kinds of trouble. A sniper who couldn't keep up with his rifle wasn't exactly a bragging right in the Army.
The man sobered. "How do I know it was you?"
"Because only a complete idiot would admit it was him. Not to mention once I found out who did it, I locked his ass in the portable latrine and turned it over with him inside it. Jack took the blame for it, since he figured I was in enough trouble over the rifle incident."
The man narrowed his gaze as if he were trying to decide if he was lying or not. After a brief debate, he reached for the phone and dialed a number.
"Hey, Jack," he said after a brief pause. "I got a man here what claims he knows you. Says he's your Army buddy Steele who had his rifle taken from him."
The man spit out more tobacco juice as he listened. "Ah-huh. Ah-huh. Nah, I don't think so. Hang on." He held the phone out to Steele. "He wants to talk to you."
Steele gratefully took the phone. "Hey, Jack, long time no hear, huh?"
"Boy, can't you ever stay out of trouble?"
He smiled at the sound of the rough, deep voice of the man who'd been the closest thing to a father Steele had ever known. "Apparently not. You always said that if there was an easy way to do something, I'd go out of my way to complicate it."
"True enough. Tell Bob to give you a piece of paper and write down where I am."
Steele asked Bob for a pen and paper, then wrote down the directions to Jack's place. As soon as he was finished, he handed the phone back to Bob and turned toward Syd. "I got it. Let's ride."
Bob hung up the phone.
"Thanks, Bob," he said as he folded the paper in half. "I appreciate your help."
Bob inclined his head as they left the store and headed back toward the BMW.
Syd gave him a snide look as they reached the car. "Did you really lose your gun with a string on it?"
He growled at the reminder of something he'd really rather forget had ever happened. "Not exactly. I was exhausted from training, so I closed my eyes for a combat nap. In retrospect, I knew I should have kept my hands on my weapon, but I was only going to close them for a sec, and the rifle was right beside me. Smithy snuck up on me and cut the cord as a joke, then hid it."
"Smithy?"
"One of the assholes in my unit. He couldn't stand the fact that I outshot him, so he was always looking for ways to screw with me. He once stole the firing pin from me when I had my rifle disassembled too."
"And yet you let him live?"
"Believe me, it wasn't by choice."
Syd got into the car and started it while Steele joined her. "How far away is Jack's?"
"Not too far."
As she dropped the car into gear, a weird shiver went down her spine. She looked around the lot and didn't see anything that should have alerted her.
"Blue Nissan, eleven o'clock."
She glanced over to the car Steele had identified. "What about it?"
"Look at the driver."
She did. The driver was an older blond man who bore no resemblance to the man she'd seen earlier. "It's not our guy."
"No, but my money says it's a spotter for him. Notice how intent he is on us."
Steele did have a point. "Maybe he's just a local wondering what we're doing here."
"Do you really believe that?"
"No." And she didn't. Steele was right, he was too focused on them. Damn the government satellite system. It was too easy for those with the know-how to tap into the system and use it to find anyone whenever they wanted to. It was a good thing for them to use to find the bad guys, but a bad thing when it was used against them.
Her first inclination was to go confront the driver, but that would be pointless.
Instead, she pulled out her weapon and checked the clip in case the man decided to get frisky.
"Drive, Syd," Steele said as he took her gun from her hand and placed it on the seat. "I doubt he'll follow us. If he is who we think, then he probably put a tracer on the car while we were inside."
Now that thought gave her an ulcer. "You know, I miss the Hollywood legend that assassins work alone. Wouldn't it be nice if that were reality?"
"Yeah. But they seldom do, and the ones today are high-tech and online."
Sighing in irritation, Syd pulled back onto the highway and headed off into what had to be the most remote area of Calverton. As Steele had pointed out, the other car didn't follow them, which meant they were tagged now.
What a fabulous day.
But at least the assassin was giving them a little breather.
Or so she thought until they pulled up onto an unmarked dirt road. She'd just started down it when a large bomb went off to her left.
Eleven
S yd jerked the wheel to the right with a curse to avoid the spraying clods of dirt.
"Easy," Steele said in an oddly calm voice, given what had just happened.
"We're under fire!"
"No. Not really. That's just Jack's welcome mat."
She pulled to a stop to gawk at him. Was he serious? "I beg your pardon?"
He nodded. "It's true. It's just his way of letting people know that they're on his land now, and old rules don't apply. Jack is a bit--"
"Psychotic?"
He laughed. "Eccentric. He has a few issues with authority and government, and, well, people in general."
"Uh-huh. And that causes him to arbitrarily bomb cars for no reason?"
"No. That wasn't a bomb. Believe me, if
he'd wanted us harmed, we'd be dead by now. That was a motion-triggered explosive to let him know someone's on his property. I'm sure he has us under surveillance even as we argue. So drive slowly for a few miles until you reach his 1957 red Chevy, which should be parked in the middle of the road."
Was that supposed to make sense to her? "We're not looking for his house?"
"Nope. You're looking for his Chevy."
Sure. Why not? That made about as much sense as everything else that had happened to them thus far. She headed down the unpaved road that was lined with tall wheat growing up on each side of it. A light breeze blew through it, making it wave at them as she tried to see something through it.
She couldn't. The only thing that was clear was the road ahead.
"How well do you know this guy?"
He gave her a wry grin. "About as well as anyone does, which isn't saying much. Jack is unique."
Just what she wanted to hear. That ranked right up there with "he's got a great personality, so go out on the date and have fun." Only difference, this one was trained to kill and seemed to like to play with explosives instead of just being plain ugly.
Oh, joy...
Syd edged the car farther down the dusty unpaved drive. The wheat finally gave way to shrubs in bad need of water. The whole area was desolate and unkempt. Jack definitely wasn't into landscaping or rural development. But then why bother, when he had it rigged to explode? Why waste such valuable time?
It was probably a good four and half miles before she saw the abandoned Chevy. Faded and rusted, it was a vintage icon that had been left untended far too long. Oddly enough, it sat out in the middle of the road with nothing around it.
"Stop here," Steele said.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. That's what Jack said to do."
Still unsure of what would happen next, she parked the car and turned it off. Steele got out first and moved slowly to stand at the front of the Chevy. He motioned for her to join him.
Half-expecting Rod Serling to greet her, she got out and walked over to Steele. As she scanned the area, she realized that there was an ancient, faded wooden cabin that was overgrown with vines.
Surely not even eccentric Jack would live in such a place. Would he?
"Hey, Gator Jack?" Steele called. "We're here."
She noticed that Steele was standing with his hands out, as if to convince this mysterious Jack that he was unarmed. Syd's eyes widened as she heard an odd rumbling sound coming from the ground underneath her feet.
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