Morgan's Son
Page 1
“What are you running from?” Sabra whispered.
Breathing hard, Craig turned away from her. “That’s none of your business.”
“Oh, yes, it is. If we’re going on this mission together, I have every right to know.”
Craig spun around, eyes blazing, “it has nothing to do with this mission.”
Sabra stood before him like an avenging angel.
And the look in her eyes—lustrous with the need to understand him—was nearly his undoing. Her compassion was genuine. She was concerned about him. About his ghosts.
And something deep inside him moved, cried out.
But bitterness coated his throat and mouth. And Craig squelched the sudden desire to tell this strong, beautiful woman exactly what hideous inner demons he was running from.
“Believe me,” he rasped. “You don’t want to know….”
MORGAN’S MERCENARIES: LOVE AND DANGER: Four men. Four missions. Each battling danger to find their way back to love!
To my brother Brent Gent and his family: Jeanne Gent, Erin Gent and Lauren Gent; my brother Gary Gent and his family: Debbie Gent, Kimberiy Gent and Brian Gent; to my sister Nancy Gray, and her son Corbette Gray; and to the two Scorpios in my life: David Nauman, my husband of twenty-two years, and my mother, Ruth M. Gent, seventy-eight years young and going strong! What fun a Gemini has keeping you two on your collective toes! Ain’t life great? And to my grandmother, Inez Cramer, ninety-eight years old and young at heart!
ISBN 0-373-09992-4
MORGAN’S SON
Copyright © 1995 by Lindsay McKenna
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, she reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author slid have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books SA.
® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books SA., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
CLS
Printed in U.S.A.
Books by Lindsay McKenna
Silhouette Special Edition
Captive of Fate #82
*Heart of the Eagle #338
*A Measure of Love #377
*Solitaire #397 Heart of the Tiger #434
fA Question of Honor #529
fNo Surrender #535
f Return of a Hero #541
Come Gentle the Dawn #568
fDawn of Valor #649
**No Quarter Given #667
**The Gauntlet #673 **
Under Fire #679
ffRide the Tiger #721
ff One Man’s War #727
ffOff Limits #733
tHeart of the Wolf #818
tThe Rogue #824
tCommando #830
**Point of Departure #853
°Shadows and Light #878
°Dangerous Alliance #884
°Countdown #890
ttMorgan’s Wife #986
ttMorgan’s Son #992
ttMorgan’s Rescue #998
ttMorgan’s Marriage #1005
White Wolf #1135
ÊWild Mustang Woman #1166
ÊStallion Tamer #1173
ÊThe Cougar #1179
AHeart of the Hunter #1214
AHunter’s Woman #1255
AHunter’s Pride #1274
§Man of Passion #1334
§A Man Alone #1357
§Man with a Mission #1376
Silhouette Shadows
Hangar 13 #27
Silhouette Intimate Moments
Love Me Before Dawn #44
Silhouette Desire
Chase the Clouds #75
Wilderness Passion #134
Too Near the Fire #165
Texas Wildcat #184
Red Tail #208
AThe Untamed Hunter #1262
Silhouette Books
Silhouette Christmas Stories 1990 “Always and Forever”
Lovers Dark and Dangerous 1994 “Seeing Is Believing”
Morgan’s Mercenaries: Heart of the Jaguar Morgan’s Mercenaries: Heart of the Warrior
Harlequin Historicals
Sun Woman #71
Lord of the Shadowhawk #108
King of Swords #125
Brave Heart #171
*Kincaid trilogy
fLove and Glory
**Women of Glory
ffMoments of Glory trilogy
tMorgan’s Mercenaries
°Men of Courage
ttMorgan’s Mercenaries:Love and Danger
ÊCowboys of the Southwest
AMorgan’s Mercenaries:The Hunters
§Morgan’s Mercenaries: Maverick Hearts
LINDSAY McKENNA
spent three years serving her country as a meteorologist in the U.S. Navy, so much of her knowledge comes from direct experience. In addition, she spends a great deal of time researching each book, whether it be at the Pentagon or at military bases, extensively interviewing key personnel.
Lindsay is also a pilot. She and her husband of twenty-two years, both avid “rock hounds” and hikers, live in Arizona.
In 1983, when I first published Captive of Fate with Silhouette Special Edition, I had no idea I’d continue to write a total of thirty-three novels for Silhouette Books. Now, Special Edition has hit 1000 great romance novels, and I’m thrilled to be part of a wonderful, continuing tradition.
I have always loved the freedom to write what inspires me. At Silhouette, my interest in the military has been nurtured and supported enthusiastically. With Silhouette’s support, I helped to create the subgenre of military romance novels. It has met with resounding success—thanks to you!
That is why MORGAN’S MERCENARIES: LOVE AND DANGER is an achievement not only for Silhouette Special Edition, but for readers who have loved the Trayhern family since LOVE AND GLORY. And everyone, judging from the thousands of letters I’ve received over the years, fell in love with Morgan Trayhern and Laura Bennett
Well, after all those years of pleading to see what happened to Morgan, Laura and their family, I have created a four-book series that answers all your questions! This series came about because of you, and I hope it gives you as much pleasure reading it as it gave me to write it. So don’t think that your heartfelt thoughts and feelings about an author’s characters don’t count with her and her editors—this is living proof that it does!
I hope you enjoy MORGAN’S MERCENARIES: LOVE AND DANGER.
Warmly,
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 One
“Jake, who do we have to rescue my son?” Laura looked at him steadily, struggling to keep her voice even and low despite her excitement at Jason’s being located. To Jake’s right and left at the War Room’s familiar the oval table sat Wolf Harding and Sean Killian, their faces k
ind but impassive. Jake’s brow furrowed.
“Well,” he rumbled hesitantly, flipping through some reports before him, “we’ve got one member available from each of two different teams that have just come out of the field.”
“It isn’t a good idea,” Wolf said, looking across the table at Laura. “Putting members from two different teams together to create a new, untried team.”
Laura felt her throat closing up with tears at Wolf’s pronouncement. Since her own release from the hellish prison on Garcia’s Caribbean estate, she seemed to burst into tears easily and often unexpectedly. Her therapist, Pallas Downey, assured her that her response was normal for anyone who had been drugged, raped and had her family kidnapped. Holding tightly to a delicate, embroidered handkerchief beneath the table, she tried to focus calmly on Wolf’s concerns. “Why not?” she asked quietly.
With an apologetic shrug, Wolf said, “Teams are teams, Laura. Team members have adjusted to each other’s quirks and foibles, so to speak.”
“Team members often know intuitively what their other half is going to do,” Jake offered. “If you throw together two people who don’t know each other, it can be detrimental to a mission—especially one as complicated as this rescue attempt for Jason.”
As tears clawed their way up her throat, Laura turned to Killian, whose face remained unreadable, as always. His green eyes glittered as she looked into them. “What do you say, Killian?” In spite of his taciturn nature, Laura knew Sean’s depth of experience was something they could all count on.
“I say it depends on the individuals concerned.”
“Well,” Jake said slowly, “that’s true.”
“Who are they?” Laura asked, trying to blot her eyes as inconspicuously as possible.
“We’re lucky,” Jake said. “The woman is Sabra Jacobs. She’s been with Perseus since Morgan started it. She’s got time in grade, she knows the system and she takes only high-risk assignments.”
“Sabra?” Laura whispered the name, hope springing to life in her breast. “Why, Jason knows her! Between assignments, Sabra lives here, near us. She’s baby-sat for us many times. Jason loves her. He calls her ‘Auntie S’ because he can’t quite pronounce her name yet.”
Jake held up his hand. “I know it sounds like good news, Laura. But unfortunately, Sabra’s partner, Terry Hayes, suffered a heart attack overseas. We can’t ask him to climb out of his hospital bed and join us.”
“Who’s the person on the second team?” Laura demanded, hope spiraling crazily through her despite Jake’s words of caution. Sabra Jacobs was one of the most dependable, solid women she’d ever met. If there was anyone who could rescue Jason, it was Sabra.
Jake grimaced. “A merc by the name of Craig Talbot. He’s only been with Perseus six months. He’s an ex-marine helicopter pilot who came to us after Desert Storm.”
“That sounds like a wonderful combination!”
“Laura, I wish I could be as enthused as you are,” Jake warned, “but Talbot has been involved only in low-and medium-risk assignments.”
“So what?”
“So, he doesn’t want any high-risk assignments.”
Laura sat there assimilating Jake’s words. “But why?” she managed to ask after a moment.
“I don’t know.” Jake glanced at Wolf. “All we know is that shortly after Desert Storm, Talbot, who was a captain, resigned his commission from the Marine Corps to knock at Perseus’s door.”
“Do you have Mr. Talbot’s personnel file?”
“Yes.”
“I want to see it.”
“Laura, the first thing we have to do is find out if these players are willing to take this assignment. Sabra no doubt will jump at the chance, because she has a personal stake. She’s close to you and your children.”
“Is she here?”
“Sabra should be here in about half an hour,” Wolf said, looking at his watch.
“And Craig Talbot?”
“He’s still in the air,” Killian muttered. “We’ve sent someone to the airport to pick him up. We should be able to talk to him in about an hour and a half, if traffic cooperates.”
Laura looked at her watch. It was shortly after noon and she should be hungry, but even the thought of eating these days made her nauseous. Her therapist assured her that, too, was a normal reaction after what she’d experienced. Still, she had to keep up her strength. She would have to force herself to eat.
“I want to be here when you interview them, Jake.”
“Of course,” he said, picking up his nearly cold cup of coffee and taking a swallow.
“Are they well rested?”
“Sabra is, but Talbot’s just coming off an assignment that should have been labeled high risk.”
“What happened to his partner?”
“Died in an auto accident. Talbot wasn’t with her. He was tailing one of two suspects in Vienna, Austria. Jennifer Langford, his partner, was tailing the other one.”
Laura felt her heart squeeze. “Oh, how awful….”
Jake slowly rose. “Laura, I really don’t think you should be here, under the circumstances. You’re still too raw from your own ordeal, and sitting in on team debriefings won’t do you any good. You’re white as a sheet.”
Shamed, Laura touched her cheek, then stood. “I know you’re right, Jake, but I can’t help myself. My son, my husband…It’s so hard to stay home, to go through the motions of my day….”
Jake came around the table and placed his arm gently across Laura’s drooping shoulders. “I know how hard this is on you,” he rasped. “We’re doing everything humanly possible to locate Morgan.”
Laura looked up into his dark, worried features. “I don’t know what we’d have done without the three of you,” she said solemnly. “You’ve held Perseus together. I—I’m so grateful.” Then the hot tears spilled from her eyes and down her cheeks. Managing an embarrassed, apologetic laugh, she eased away from Jake and wiped at her eyes. Then she took a deep breath and again leveled her gaze on Jake’s.
“Please let me stay for the interviews and assignments, Jake. Then, I promise to get out of your hair and leave you to the unpleasant realities. Okay?”
“That’s fine, Laura,” Jake said gently, his harsh features softening. “Come on, let’s all go get something to eat. When we get back, Sabra should be here and, with any luck, Talbot about an hour after that.”
“I’m just so glad Sabra is coming,” Laura whispered. “So glad.”
“She’s one of the best,” Jake agreed, guiding her toward the heavy oak door.
“And Jason knows her,” Laura said, walking with him. “I feel that’s so important.”
“Yes,” he agreed, “it’s a lucky break for us.”
Laura waited as Jake opened the door. Then, clenching the now-damp handkerchief in her left hand, she walked out into the spacious reception area, where Marie was working at her computer. Laura smiled warmly at Morgan’s assistant, who had so ably taken on a much-larger area of responsibility in the wake of the kidnappings. Her mind rushed back to the fact that Killian and the CIA had stumbled on information about Jason’s whereabouts. That was the best news yet, she reminded herself as she worked to shore up her broken, scattered emotions—an improvement on the numbness that stalked her lately, between brief periods of euphoria and gut-wrenching fear.
But if anyone should be on this assignment, it was Sabra. Laura was grateful for the woman, for her loyalty not only to Perseus but to the Trayhern family. A trickle of real hope entered her heart. Yes, with Sabra heading up the team, Laura just might actually get her son back—safe and sound.
Sabra entered the Perseus office at exactly 1300, the time she’d promised Jake she’d show up. Marie looked up from her desk and smiled.
“Hi, Sabra.”
“Hello. Where is everyone?”
“They went to lunch.” Marie looked at her watch. “But they should be back soon.” Standing, she said, “May I get you some tea while you wait
for them in the War Room?”
“I’d love a cup, thanks.”
“Earl Gray, right?”
“You never forget anything, do you?” Sabra smiled and shook her head. She liked Marie immensely. The gray-haired woman was the soul of efficiency.
“Well,” Marie said with a worried chuckle as she opened the War Room door for Sabra, “I try not to, but with the way things are now, I’m afraid I sometimes am forgetful.”
Sabra lost her partial smile. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not for me to say, Sabra. Jake Randolph will want to fill you in himself,” the woman replied in a low voice, motioning Sabra to take a seat at the oval table. “Jake is heading up Perseus for now, with Laura’s blessing. Wolf Harding and Sean Killian are assisting him.”
Raising her eyebrows, Sabra nodded thoughtfully, wondering where Morgan was.
“Do you know any of them?” Marie asked.
“I know Killian, but I’ve only heard of Harding and Randolph through the grapevine, so to speak.” Sabra took a seat, propping her elbows on the table’s highly polished surface.
“I’ll get your tea,” Marie offered. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes, tea will be fine. Thanks.” She watched Marie shut the door. The War Room felt comfortable to her after all these years. It was where Morgan had given her and Terry every one of their assignments. The expanse of oak, shining from the obvious care given it, stretched before her. Ten chairs surrounded the table, but the room seemed ominously quiet. Sabra knew the entire room had been shielded with a thin, space-age metal to prevent eavesdropping by any spying country. Reports could be made and assignments given with full confidence here.
Absently, she ran her fingers across the table’s smooth surface. Wood had such a warm feel, almost like skin. But then, Sabra wryly reminded herself, she was always close to nature. Was it her Irish heritage through her mother, born to a fishing family on the seacoast? she wondered idly, as she had so often before. Or the French grape-and-wine-country ancestry of her Israeli father, now a general in the Mossad? Both her parents had soil in their souls, and she was glad of it. Sabra frequently used her thirty days of rest between assignments to visit either her mother’s parents, who still lived in a thatched hut by the wild Irish Sea, or her own parents, in Jerusalem. In Ireland, she reveled in the endless green carpet of grass. In Israel, she felt the ancient gnarled strength of olive trees that surrounded her parent’s desert home.