Morgan's Son

by Lindsay McKenna

  “It’s okay,” Wolf grunted, placing his hands palm down on the table. “Laura should never have been in on the planning anyway, but she insisted.”

  “She’s too wounded to hear all of this,” Killian rasped.

  “I should have kept my mouth shut,” Sabra murmured.

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Wolf insisted.

  “Jason. Jason’s kidnapped. But why him? Why hurt a child?”

  “We think,” Wolf offered, “that Ramirez took Jason because he’s Morgan’s only boy. You know how South Americans emphasize the importance of the oldest son.”

  Closing her eyes, Sabra felt the shock moving through her. “And Jason is such a sweet, curious little boy. He’s so trusting….”

  “Too trusting,” Killian said. “Garcia will use that against him.”

  “What a horrible thing,” Sabra whispered bitterly. “Those drug lords will stoop to any level for revenge.”

  “That’s why we’ve removed Laura from her home. We’re afraid of further reprisals,” Wolf answered. “She’s staying at a safe house we’ve arranged, with Killian’s wife, Susannah—her cousin. Just for your info, Laura is on tranquilizers and seeing a therapist twice a week.”

  “She looks so fragile. No wonder…”

  “We’re all worried about her.” Wolf grimaced. “What you don’t know yet is that Laura was repeatedly raped by Garcia.”

  Pressing her fingers to her lips, Sabra stared at Wolf in shock. A combination of revulsion, anger and hatred twisted through her. It took her several minutes to wrestle the explosion of feelings back under control. Until then, all she could do was stare at Wolf’s dark features.

  Jake entered the room and quietly shut the door behind him, his mouth set in a grim line. “Marie is going to take Laura home. She’ll be better off there.”

  Sabra nodded. “Jake, I—”

  “Don’t apologize,” he said, sitting back down. “You’re walking into this mess cold. Laura knew the risks when she came to this table. She’s not dumb.”

  Bowing her head, Sabra whispered, “I know how much Jason means to her. If we can’t get the boy back…”

  “One step at a time,” Jake cautioned, holding up his hand. “First we need to introduce you to your new partner. Then we need to do some detailed planning. The Hawaiian police are waiting for you, but I don’t want to go into the details of the mission until Talbot arrives.” Jake glanced at the clock on the wall. “Marie got word that he landed. He should be on his way.”

  “Talbot—is he my new partner?”

  Jake opened a dossier and slid it across the table toward her. “Yes. Craig Talbot. He’s been with Perseus for six months. Study his file while we wait.”

  Sabra felt their interest, on her reaction to the information on Talbot. She looked down at the open folder and was greeted by an 8-by-10 color photo of her new partner. True to her training, she carefully masked any overt reactions, but inwardly, her heart gave an unexpected thump. Talbot’s oval face featured a strong jaw and a hawklike nose. What drew her, though, were piercing, dark blue eyes with large, intelligent black pupils, eyes that made him look more like an imperious eagle than a man. He looked in his early thirties—near her own age—and something about his mouth, a thin slash that seemed to be holding back so much, touched her heart. On the left side, a scar at least six inches long extended down his lean cheek, and that whole side of his face had an unusual shiny quality.

  His hair was black with blue highlights, cut military short, and his black brows straight, emphasizing the glittering eyes that even in a two-dimensional photo seemed to miss nothing. Sabra hid her initial reaction. Talbot was neither good-looking nor bad, but he had seen perhaps too much in his relatively short life. He was deeply tanned, and though he’d obviously shaved, a darkness shadowing his jaw gave him a dangerous look—and a dangerous appeal.

  Sabra had met many mercenaries in her years of service with Perseus, and she was familiar with military men and their demeanor, but this man put her on guard. She stared at the photo, trying to keep her brain at bay and allow her feminine instincts to tell her why. Talbot possessed an animal-like quality, as if he lived life on a very thin edge that could crumble at any moment. The set of his mouth, his compressed lips, hid a great deal. But what was he hiding? The scar on his left cheek appeared fairly recent.

  All Sabra could receive intuitively was that Talbot was unsettling to her on every level. But why? Was it the frosty challenge in his bold blue stare? The secrets protected behind that well-shaped mouth? The boxerlike set of his jaw, defying anyone to try to hurt him? Sabra was sure he had been hurt.

  The crow’s-feet at the corners of his eyes reminded her of Josh. Aviators always had crow’s-feet from squinting against the sun. She sensed a hidden vulnerability to Talbot, though when this photo was taken, he’d obviously been doing his best to camouflage it. As she stared into the eyes, she saw a darkness there, just as she had in Laura’s eyes. Grief, perhaps? Pain? The feeling around Talbot wasn’t inspiring Sabra to any greater insights. He was a man of many secrets—unlike Josh. Unlike Terry.

  Forcing herself to casually push the unexpectedly provocative photo aside and look at his personnel record, Sabra saw that Talbot was thirty-two—her age. His birthday was May 22, making him a mere two months older than she was. He’d been born in Fort Wingate, New Mexico.

  Before joining Perseus, he’d had a career as a marine helicopter pilot. Her heart skipped a beat: he’d been a pilot just as Josh had been. Her heart aching, Sabra compressed her lips. Talbot was single. Why had he resigned his commission shortly after Desert Storm? Sabra had a lot of questions, but decided to hold off on them until he arrived.

  When she realized that he took only low-and medium-risk assignments, she lifted her head and looked at Jake, surprised. “This is a high-risk assignment. He doesn’t have the background for it.”

  Jake’s mouth became a slash. “Yeah, we know.” He opened his hands. “We don’t have a choice in this, Sabra. Talbot’s the only person available for the assignment right now. It takes all three of us to stay on top of things here—I don’t know how Morgan did it alone. We’re scrambling just to keep communications open between the State Department, the CIA, Interpol and the FBI on these kidnappings. If we could, one of us would go with you, but it’s not possible.

  Sabra frowned. “He’s only got six months with us, in low-or medium-risk missions. There’s no comparison between those and a high-risk assignment.”

  “Talbot is ex-marine. He knows how to handle himself and weapons.”

  “I’m sure he does,” Sabra said, her voice deepening with concern. “But we’re going undercover. Has he ever done that?”

  “No.”

  Frustrated, she looked at Jake for a long moment. “So you’re saddling me with a green team member. Talbot might as well have walked in off the street.”

  “He’s not our ideal pick,” Jake admitted heavily, “but Sabra, we don’t have a choice. Right now, it’s most important that we verify that Jason is on Maui, don’t you think?”

  “Of course,” she said. “But if we do verify it, Talbot and I will have to go in after him. I don’t know Talbot, and I don’t know how he’ll react if and when we’re faced with a potentially life-threatening situation.” She took a deep breath. “I’d rather do the assignment alone than with a rookie, Jake. I really would.”

  “I understand your concerns, Sabra. But Talbot has the capacity to live up to our expectations for this mission. We’ve just never asked him to do it before.”

  “Does he know he’s being asked to do it now?” she asked, sarcasm in her voice.

  Jake glanced away. “Not yet. He will shortly.”

  She glared at him. “This really smacks of loose planning, Jake, and I don’t like it. I don’t mind risking my life to find Jason, but I’m not about to add the burden of teaching someone who isn’t prepared for this kind of assignment.”

  “Why don’t we wait and see?” Wolf pleaded
. “None of us knows Talbot. After all, he went through Desert Storm as a combat helicopter pilot. That says something doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she conceded unwillingly, “it does.”

  “And he was in the Marine Corps since graduating from Annapolis, so the man must have tactics and strategy training down pat,” Jake reasoned.

  Sabra stood up. “Maybe I’m jumpy,” she murmured in apology. “I mean, if Jason wasn’t involved, I probably wouldn’t be so concerned about my teammate’s qualifications.”

  Jake nodded. “I feel,” he said gently, “that because you know and love Jason, your emotions are clouding your judgment.”

  Sabra sighed. “I won’t disagree with you, Jake. I’m terribly upset. And you’re right—I love Jason as if he were my own son. I’ve baby-sat that kid since he was born. I’ve taken him to the zoo….” Helplessly, she shrugged. “Maybe I am blowing things out of proportion. But I die inside every time I think about Jason being with Garcia. I want to cry….”

  “We all do,” Jake assured her, his voice rough with emotion.

  “You have to realize we’re going to help you every way we can,” Wolf vowed. “Talbot is the unknown in this. Aside from his file, no one here knows anything about him. You’re being thrown into an off-balance situation with him, we know. But we believe that with your time in grade with Perseus, and your background, you’ll be able to take charge and find Jason.”

  Sabra glanced at Jake. “I’m in charge of the mission?”

  “That’s right.”

  She stood a long time without moving. Terry had always been the team leader. Now the shoe was on the other foot and she was in charge. Of what? A man she didn’t know, who lacked the experience to work with her at the level she had to demand.

  Releasing a long sigh, she whispered, “I reserve the right to say whether or not Talbot goes with me after I’ve had a chance to meet him and assess his abilities.”

  Jake scowled. “No, Sabra, you don’t have the privilege of that decision.”

  “I demand it.”

  “No.”

  “It’s my life on the line,” she said hotly. “And Jason’s! I’m not going to take on someone who may not have the guts to get close to Garcia to rescue Jason. What if Talbot is squeamish? What if he can’t pull a trigger to defend himself? Or me? In high-risk missions we have to be concerned with that question. I know Garcia,” she added, her voice trembling with emotion. “I know what the bastard is capable of doing. He raped and drugged Laura. He may have drugged Jason. If he catches me or Talbot, we’re as good as dead. How do I know if Talbot has what it takes? Can I trust him? Why is he a merc in the first place? Can he shoot to kill? Would he? And is he really a team player?”

  Pacing the length of the room, Sabra muttered, “I reserve the right to decide whether or not Talbot goes, and that’s all there is to it.”

  Jake slowly stood up. “Then you’re off this assignment, Sabra.”

  She halted and jerked around, her mouth falling open. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He frowned. “Under any other circumstances, I’d probably agree with you. But we don’t have that luxury. All our other teams are out in the field, and it’s too late to try to recruit from outside Perseus. The government isn’t about to loan us a SEAL team or Delta Force. We’re on our own with whatever we have at hand. We have you, we have Talbot. Look at it as a marriage of convenience. You don’t have to like this guy, you just have to work with him on one mission. I hope we find Morgan alive and that he’ll return to get Perseus back on line. Until then, this organization is reeling. We’re all off-balance. We’ve been caught off guard in the worst kind of way.

  “Sometimes,” he added, a note of pleading entering his voice, “we have to settle for seconds. Nobody likes it, Sabra, but that’s all we’ve got. That’s life.”

  Shaken, Sabra said, “Where’s Talbot’s partner, then?”

  “She died in an auto accident two days ago.”

  “Are you sure it was an accident?”

  “As sure as we can be. It was a low-risk assignment.”

  Eyeing him angrily, Sabra muttered, “That’s just great. Talbot’s going to be upset about losing his partner on top of everything else. Do you really think he’s got the emotional stability to hop from that into something like this?”

  “We’re all going to find out the answer to that together,” Jake stated firmly. “Now, are you in or are you out?”

  Glaring, Sabra said, “And if I’m out, what will you do?”

  “Assign it to Talbot.”

  “You’re crazy!”

  “That’s the choice we’re faced with Sabra. You’ve been here five years. You know how the system works.”

  “You can’t put someone like Talbot on this assignment alone. That’s guaranteeing failure.”

  “Then agree to be the leader of the team.”

  Frustrated, she raked them with an angry look. “I don’t like this, Jake. I don’t like it at all.”

  “Give yourself some leeway, Sabra. Wait until Talbot comes in and we’ve had a chance to talk to him about it. Assess his responses.”

  “What if he doesn’t measure up in your eyes, Jake?” Sabra challenged. “What then?”

  “Then,” he said heavily, “I’ll ask you to go alone. I won’t like it, but I’ll do it.”

  She smiled grimly. “That’s the better of two evils in this case. At least with me, you know what you’re getting.”

  “I don’t disagree.”

  There was a knock on the door. The room fell silent. Sabra turned, her fingers resting on the oak tabletop. It had to be Talbot. Her heart was beating erratically, and she tried to calm it—tried to calm herself. Jake was right: she was personally and emotionally involved in this assignment in a unique way. Since Jason’s birth, she’d fed him his bottle, changed his diapers, watched him learn to crawl, then walk. Jason was like the son she’d always dreamed of having—the dream that had died five years ago with Josh. Whether he knew it or not, Jason had eased her pain simply by being himself. Sabra could live the dream of having a dark-haired little boy with beautiful gray eyes, though she would never admit it to anyone else. Jake had no idea exactly how close she felt to Jason—and why.

  Moistening her lips, she whispered, “I’ll stay on the mission.”

  Jake nodded. “I’m glad, Sabra. Thank you.” He walked to the door and twisted the polished brass doorknob. “Come in,” he said gruffly.

  Sabra’s eyes widened. Her heart contracted. Automatically, her hand went to the top of her chair, and she gripped it, feeling suddenly dizzy in the wake of Craig Talbot’s silent, lethal entrance.

  Chapter Two

  Craig halted wearily in front of the War Room door. No one had been at the reception desk, which was highly unusual. Marie was such a calming, constant presence at Perseus. Exhaustion pulled heavily at him, and he ran his hand across his jaw, the prickly whiskers there reminding him he’d been without shower or shave for forty-eight hours—since the tragic loss of Jennifer.

  His heart gave another twinge of guilt as her young, eager face danced once more in front of his smarting, bloodshot eyes. He shouldn’t have allowed her to tail the suspect by herself. He should have listened to his gut instead of allowing her to talk him out of his decision. Once again he’d been a leader—and once again, he’d gotten someone killed.

  His mouth tasted bitter from too much coffee on the flight from Europe, and he wiped it with the back of his hand, then knocked on the door again. Where was everyone? If he wasn’t so damned tired, his internal radar might be picking up on something.

  The door swung open, and he stared at the tall, burly man standing there in a white shirt and dark chinos. “Where’s Marie?” Craig demanded.

  “She’s on an errand. I’m Jake Randolph, one of the Perseus mercs. Come in, we’ve been expecting you.”

  Confused, Craig stepped through the door. Two other mercs nodded greetings from the other end of the table, their faces set
and unreadable. Although his senses were muddled by changed time zones and lack of sleep, Craig swung his attention to his right. His eyes widened slightly. There, on the other side of the table, stood a young woman of incredible exotic beauty. Craig stared at her. She was dressed in a silk T-shirt patterned with cinnamon, dark blue, lime green and black flowerlike colors. A cinnamon skirt draped her long thighs revealingly and hung gracefully around her slender ankles and sandaled feet.

  Impressions of her assailed his numbed senses. Was it her large gray eyes, framed by thick black lashes, that entranced him? Or the soft set of her lips, unmarked by lipstick. She wore no makeup, but she certainly didn’t need any. Her skin had an olive cast and her wide-set eyes were slightly tilted at the corners, giving her an exotic Egyptian quality. She reminded Craig of a statue of Queen Nefertiti he’d once seen in a museum.

  Tearing his gaze from her, he followed Randolph into the room. One of the other mercs got up and quietly closed the door behind them. Randolph pointed to the chair next to him.

  “I imagine you’re tired, but have a seat. We’ve got a crisis at Perseus and I’m afraid you’re one of only two mercs available for the assignment.”

  Stymied, Craig sat, his joints aching in protest as they always did if he had to stay too long in one position, ever since—He coldly squashed the rest of the paralyzing thought. Trying to push the threatening past from his mind, he watched as the operative who’d closed the door came around the table and sat opposite him. The woman also took a seat. Who was she? His mind was mushy, and thinking was difficult. All he wanted was sleep, but he didn’t dare doze off here, so he fought to remain awake.

  “Killian, would you mind getting Talbot some coffee?” Jake asked, understanding tinging his voice.

  The Irishman rose in one fluid motion and left the room.

  Jake jerked a thumb toward the door. “That’s Killian who just left, and this is Wolf Harding.”

  Craig nodded, but his gaze was pinned on the woman across from him.