“He’s an Alpha Dog, a member of my squad. Why?”
“Know if he has an actual love interest in Thailand? Or if he’s hard up for cash? He just swore out an affidavit for a fiancée visa yesterday. That’s how they bring these girls into the country legally. Dupe some poor serviceman short on cash or smarts. Get him to swear he’s actually met the girl, even though he never will. If it ever comes under scrutiny—and it usually doesn’t—the paper trail leads back to the guy, who pays the fine and does the time.”
“We were over there six months.” Bowie felt he had to defend Jones. “It’s possible he fell in love with a young woman. It happens all the time.”
“I know.” Stevens got a far-off look, but no smile came. “I’ll keep you informed.”
“That ‘something personal’ between you and Xang, does it have anything to do with a girl you met in Vietnam?”
“Don’t go there.”
“I thought SEALs never left a man behind? Any man who’d leave a woman behind, carrying his child, is a coward in my book. Maybe she was better off with Xang.”
“Where the hell did you hear something like that?” Stevens became outraged. “I know it wasn’t from your father or godfather!”
“You want to try taking that swing at me now?” Bowie asked, itching for that fight.
Fall 1972
Quang Tri Province, Vietnam
THERE WAS NO TOMORROW in Vietnam.
The Viet Cong had rounded up all the young men in her village, including her youngest brother, Bay, and marched them off. Then they rounded up all the young women and sorted them into groups. Those who had consorted with the American GIs and those who hadn’t. Lan found herself in the first group. Even if she hadn’t been with child, neighbors were only too willing to cooperate with the VC if it meant saving their own lives.
In her case, however, they had found the picture of Skully to use against her. They pinned it to her, marking her as lower than dust.
Five of them were lined up and forced to their knees. The man in charge spit on the ground. He ordered a soldier to pour honey over their feet. And another to release fire ants. As the man with the ants walked down the line the screaming began.
Lan had been barely holding on from the moment the VC had arrived. She couldn’t control her shaking, but she’d bite off her own tongue before she’d scream.
But the VC weren’t finished. Whimpering in pain and fear, the five women were each made to hold a grenade without a pin. Lan knew if she let go, she would die. She knew if the girl next to her let go, she would also die.
So she held that grenade in her shaking hand and forced her mind to go blank. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want her baby to die.
The screams, the biting ants, became unbearable.
She prayed to Buddha. To all her ancestors.
To Skully.
Then the girl at the end of the line let go. That girl and the one beside her fell after a loud explosion, and Lan was spattered with flesh and blood. The second body had taken the brunt of the impact, her grenade still clutched in her dead hand.
The girl next to Lan wet herself.
Lan tried to mouth words of comfort, but none came.
The girl got up and ran away. With amazing nonchalance the VC trained their weapons on her and shot her dead once she reached the edge of a field. Her grenade went off, and Lan ducked her shoulders as dirt came raining down, getting in her eyes and mouth, making her gag.
But she was still alive. Two of them were still alive.
Time passed. She couldn’t even feel the ant bites anymore. Her limbs, her entire body and mind had gone numb. She swayed on her knees and fought to stay awake.
She knew the VC would get tired of their game and then they would kill her, but she didn’t let go of the grenade.
She wanted to throw it at them. But they remained spread out among the villagers. Her own mother was on her knees crying and begging for her release. Her father just stared past her as if he already mourned her death.
The shelling that had been going on around them continued lighting up the night sky with an eerie beauty. More tanks and trucks rolled in. The band of VC now had jobs to do. She dared to hope they would become busy enough to forget about her.
Headlights blinded her. A jeep pulled up to a stop. An angry voice called out.
Then gentle hands closed over hers. She looked up into the man’s face. For a moment she thought it must be Skully, but that was only a hallucination.
“Xang” was all she could manage to say past her parched throat.
He took the grenade from her and lobbed it into the night. He ordered the other woman released while ushering Lan to the Jeep.
Her father slipped General Xang the American money he’d stashed away, all of it. Lan knew right then and there Xang would take her away. Away from her family. Away from her home.
It was to be the last time she ever saw either of her parents. The last time she ever saw her home.
And she knew for all Xang’s gentle handling, the anger would come. She was his property now. He could do what he wanted to her and no one could stop him.
CHAPTER SIX
0900 Thursday
NAVAL AIR FACILITY
Sand Island, Midway Islands
FROM THE WORLD WAR TWO vintage watchtower, Tam peered through binoculars. She could have been bird watching. But on this occasion she found bees more interesting.
Seabees, to be exact.
“The fleet has landed,” she muttered in pure frustration. An exaggeration on her part, no doubt. It was, after all, only one vessel. Carrying one detachment of Seabees. Not an entire fleet.
Not an invasion force.
She shouldn’t feel as if the enemy had landed. Except she did. And he had.
She craned her neck for a clear view of the harbor and marina in anticipation of getting a look at the man she’d been avoiding for almost a week. After several unsuccessful attempts she lowered her spyglasses, letting them dangle from the cord around her neck.
“Well?” Katie Dewitt, her administrative assistant, called up from the base of the tower. Katie, being afraid of heights, had chosen to keep both feet planted firmly on the ground.
“They’re here,” Tam repeated for her assistant’s benefit.
“How many?”
“Just one, that I can see, anyway,” Tam answered.
“Only one?”
“Bob Hope.”
“Is he really cute and wearing a uniform like the guy on the Cracker Jack box?”
“The USNS Bob Hope,” Tam clarified. “Please don’t tell me you’re too young to have heard of the ship’s namesake? I’d heard of the man before I even came to the States.”
“Well, duh! You grew up in Vietnam. Didn’t he like invade your country or something?”
No wonder Will called her Katie DimWit. Please, someone, tell me she failed history and restore my faith in the education system. “That’s right, we hold Bob Hope personally responsible for the entire American War.”
“Huh?”
“The Vietnam conflict.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?”
It wasn’t just Katie’s lack of wit, everything about the younger woman made Tam feel really old. Compared to Katie, Tam had lived two lifetimes in her twenty-nine years.
She made her way down the ladder one rickety rung at a time. She’d taken her life in her hands by climbing the abandoned tower in the first place.
A missing rung halfway down meant a long stretch to the next step. It hadn’t seemed so bad on the way up, but this time she lost her balance. A splinter snagged the tender flesh of her palm as she hung on for dear life.
Hearing the crack of rotting wood a split second before the ladder gave out, Tam let out a helpless shriek as she fell the last few feet to the sand. It wouldn’t have been so bad except she picked up more splinters on the way down and landed on her holstered sidearm.
“Troi oi!”
“What di
d I tell you?” Katie rushed to her side. “That tower isn’t safe.”
“You said it was too high.” Tam rolled off her hip and pushed to her feet, brushing the sand from the seat of her uniform shorts with raw palms.
“Same thing.”
She supposed it only fair that Katie got the last word since Tam had been thinking unkind thoughts. She’d learned a long time ago not to argue with her assistant’s brand of logic. Somehow to Katie it all made sense.
Regardless of what the young woman actually said, climbing the tower had been a risk. One worth taking for a peek from a safe distance. Not that she’d be able to keep that distance much longer.
“I think there’s a first aid kit down at the marina,” Katie offered helpfully.
Traitor. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Here, wear this.” A green construction helmet flew by.
Katie caught it and Tam wheeled around.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Prince.” Katie correctly identified him. “Nice binoculars.”
Tam immediately regretted confiding in the only other female on the island. But she stood staring at an even bigger regret. His eyes were shaded, not by the helmet he’d just given up, but by sunglasses.
As Katie had pointed out, they both wore binoculars around their necks. So who had been spying on whom?
“You know,” Katie continued, “I’ve always liked shorts on UPS guys, but I think I like them much better on Seabees.”
Tam noticed he had no problem wearing green socks with his green uniform.
“Thanks, I think,” Prince said as Katie gamboled past. “Try not to distract the men too much. They’re operating heavy machinery.” Once Katie disappeared down the path, he turned back around and peeled off his sunglasses. “From now on the watchtower is off limits.”
“What happened to you?” Tam asked, getting her first good look at the butterfly bandage above his right eye that matched the bandaged knuckles on his left hand.
“There you go again, stepping on my lines.”
“I can’t seem to help it.” She shrugged. Was his heart beating as fast as hers?
He leveled an unsympathetic stare. “You never called.”
It wasn’t a question, but an accusation.
She searched her brain for some plausible excuse. In truth she’d just wanted to put off this encounter. She dug at her splintered palm. “Were you in a fight?”
“Something like that.”
Why did she have the feeling that “something” had to do with her?
He reached around the back of his utility belt for what turned out to be a first aid kit. She noticed he was wearing his knife, too. She couldn’t help it, her hand automatically went to the butt of her Glock.
Ripping a length of surgical tape, he rolled it sticky side out. “Let me have a look at that.”
He took her hand in his and pressed the tape to her palm in a painless operation. Almost painless. There was his touch to contend with.
She studied his bent head. “What does the other guy look like?”
He lifted his gaze to meet hers and held it for one breathless moment. “I had something to tell you, but when I got back to the hotel you’d checked out. Why?”
It did have something to do with her. She could tell by the way he’d avoided her question. She pulled her hand back. He’d removed most of the splinters, anyway.
“I called Hickam,” he continued. “Your flight back to Midway wasn’t until Tuesday, and by then I’d boarded the ship. I had every intention of keeping you in bed all weekend long.” The teasing quality had completely disappeared from his voice.
“I’m sure you did.” Which is why she’d checked into another hotel. No use making the same mistake twice. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “I need to know if we used protection.”
He pulled back and studied her face. “Naturally I would take advantage of you in your intoxicated state.”
“I know I threw myself at you,” she snapped.
“And I found you irresistible. You don’t think very highly of me, do you? The morals just disappear when I put on the uniform?”
“Did you use a condom or not?” she demanded.
“No,” he said through tight lips, “because nothing happened.”
Something had happened. In those few seconds before relief set in she’d mentally counted backward through her menstrual cycle and her mind’s eye had started building a baby…his eyes, her nose, his smile…
Her heartbeat accelerated.
“Are you certain?”
“When you’re certain, come find me.” He turned and headed down the path, then turned back around. “We’re throwing ourselves a little welcome party tomorrow. The whole island is invited.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t know if he realized it or not, but she wasn’t thanking him for the invitation.
1500 Thursday
THE MARINA; NAVAL AIR FACILITY
Sand Island, Midway Islands
“CRAP.” BOTH LITERALLY and figuratively Bowie had gotten more than his fair share today. He eye-balled the fresh stain running down the front of his puke-green undershirt. The parrot perched on his shoulder cocked its feathery head to one side.
“Like you don’t know,” Bowie growled, untucking his T-shirt by the fistful.
Crackers squawked in protest. The bird was smart enough to realize it had worn out its welcome and fluttered to the ground before Bowie raised his arms to peel off the soiled shirt.
Puke green joined jungle print on a nearby weathered post. Bowie’s battle dress uniform shirt had been an earlier casualty of war. “That’s the last time you stay up all night playing poker and drinking with a bunch of merchant marines. Got that?”
“Sore loser!” Crackers strutted away from the bustling dock like cock of the walk, repeating the only words the mariners had been able to teach the bird under their care.
Bowie shook his head. He really wasn’t mad at his parrot. In truth he’d missed the little nuisance. And it was hot enough that he didn’t need a shirt.
His “fowl” mood had more to do with lack of sleep and his return to Midway.
Captain Harris had bailed at the last minute and stayed in Hawaii. The C.O.’s shiny silver eagles carried more clout than Bowie’s own lowly double bars. And who could blame a man for preferring golf over grunge?
Bowie removed his construction helmet and swiped at the sweat beading his forehead before settling it back on his head. Until he earned back his lieutenant commander cluster and got elevated to X.O. of NMCB133 he was stuck here unloading six months’ worth of supplies and equipment.
Because of Tam there was nowhere else he’d rather be. But she’d ditched him in Hawaii and dumped on him here. All he’d wanted to do was make things right for her. To take her in his arms and keep her there. To wipe away the past by being her present. Even after she’d run he’d almost convinced himself he was the man she needed, until he’d learned for certain just a few short hours ago he wasn’t the man she trusted.
“Here she comes,” McCain warned in passing.
After this morning Bowie figured she’d be itching for a fight. He just hadn’t counted on it being so soon. He tugged at his work gloves and motioned a forklift operator into the warehouse of company stores just as she approached.
She wrinkled her pert little nose, and he resisted the urge to lift his arms and sniff. If she didn’t like the way a working man smelled that was her problem.
“We need to talk.”
“Put on a hard hat,” he instructed, pointing out the stack of extras. “Is this the official meet and greet?” he asked, putting his arms through the sleeves of a frat-boy, party-animal Hawaiian shirt he’d picked out himself. “Or is this personal?”
He’d spied her from the bridge of the ship. When she didn’t show up to meet it, he’d gone to her so they could have a private moment to put all the awkwardness behind them. Or so he’d thought.
“Katie tells me you’ve bro
ught a parrot to the island?”
“That’s right.”
“You can’t do that, Lieutenant. This is a wildlife refuge—new species can’t be introduced without affecting the habitat. Birds carry disease, which they might pass on to one another and humans.”
“I think you’ll find all the paperwork in order.”
McCain produced a clipboard, and Bowie handed it to the professor.
She looked it over carefully, then gave it back. “This says the parrot is imported from Thailand.”
“That’s right. Crackers is a gift from the Thai government. I had special diplomatic dispensation to bring him into this country. Uncle Sammy didn’t want to offend an ally. It’s all there in black and white.”
“The U.S. stopped all importation of parrots three years ago. I’m going to have to quarantine your bird.”
“Crackers hasn’t been off the Bob Hope since it left Thailand, not even when it docked in Hawaii weeks ago. He’s not sick.” Well, not the kind of sick that counted, anyway.
“I’m still going to have to quarantine your bird, Lieutenant. If he’s healthy you can have him back in thirty days. If not he’ll have to be destroyed. I’m responsible for over two million birds on this island and I can’t risk introducing an epidemic. Please put him in his cage.”
“What’s the difference if he stays with you or me?” Bowie shooed the bird back in its cage. “I’m setting up office in the brig. We’ll quarantine Crackers there.”
Her hand went to the butt of her Glock.
“You know it really makes me nervous when you do that,” he said. “Do you see anyone here armed?”
“Do what?”
He ingored the question. “Hand over the gun and I’ll hand over the bird.”
Leaving the cage where he’d stood, Bowie stepped closer to her. Most of his men were using the excuse of dusting themselves off to watch as they gathered around the water coolers.
“I’m taking the bird. It’s the law.”
“I’m the law around here.”
Midway Between You and Me (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 11