“And he hasn’t gone through the kind of training we did.”
“Got a point there.” Despite their efforts over the last six months, the team was nowhere near where they wanted them to be training-wise. “I’ve said it before—we need to seriously consider buying a training facility.”
“I know,” Gabe said. “I’ve mentioned the possibility to Tuc, but a training facility’s going to cost us millions and we need to hire a pilot first. Not to mention, we’d need to hire a staff for the facility. It’s just not feasible right now.”
Yeah, Quinn knew that. Still, it was frustrating. The guys all had potential to be excellent operators, if only they had the right training and equipment. But if only wasn’t gonna get the job done now. “So,” he said, getting back to the original topic, “if I’m staying here with Harvard, does that mean you plan on taking Seth with you?”
Gabe hissed out a breath through his teeth. “I should say no. All my reservations about him still stand, but I can’t overlook his intimate knowledge of the enemy, either. As much as I’d prefer to leave him behind—hell, to ship him back to the States where he can get the psychiatric help he needs—part of me fears the information he has might draw the line between our success and failure.”
“I still think you don’t give him enough credit,” Quinn said. “Seth’s a survivor. A fighter. When it hits the fan, he’s gonna surprise you.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Gabe said, though his tone made it crystal clear he thought he’d see a flying pig first.
“Stubborn jackass,” Quinn muttered.
“You’re one to talk, asshole.”
Out front, a peal of laughter split the air. A man’s, low and rumbling, and one woman’s, high and clear.
Gabe tilted his head toward the sound. “Any luck matching Phoebe’s pictures up to the sat images?”
“Nope.”
“Damn.” Gabe dragged a hand over his face. “I’d much rather leave her behind. I don’t want to run into another situation like with Audrey in Colombia.”
Quinn snorted. “It better not be another Colombia. Audrey will castrate you if you come home with another wife.”
Gabe punched him in the shoulder. His bad shoulder. Hard. It hurt like a bitch but somehow, it made him feel like all was right with the world.
“I was referring to Seth and Phoebe,” Gabe said.
More laughter out front. A car door shut, and the voices faded. Apparently, the team was done loading and had gone inside. Which meant they had to cut this convo short and get in there for the pre-mission briefing.
“Yeah,” Quinn said on a long exhale. “I’ve noticed it, too.”
“Think I should be concerned about it interfering? I’m the first to admit I wasn’t at my best in Colombia when Audrey knocked me for a loop. And I wasn’t standing on shaky mental ground at the time, either.”
Quinn gave the question some serious thought as he followed Gabe into the house. Gabe did have a point about the whole “knocked for a loop” thing, but at the same time…
They stopped outside the room they’d claimed as their base of operations and he noticed Seth sitting with his back to the corner, watching someone. After following the direction of his gaze, Quinn realized that someone was Phoebe. She sat beside him, flipping through a stack of photos, occasionally picking one out to show him.
Yeah. Something there all right. A spark. A sizzle. It was almost like watching Gabe and Audrey meet again for the first time.
“Hey, look.” He elbowed Gabe in the side and motioned to the couple.
Gabe groaned. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“No,” Quinn said, drawing the word out as he watched. “I don’t think so. Look at him. He’s…relaxed.” Sure, his back was to the corner, but any operative worth his salt would choose the same position in the room. But Seth’s shoulders weren’t tensed up and he didn’t appear to be ready to bolt at the first loud noise. His legs were bent, his arms resting casually on his knees, hands dangling until Phoebe pushed a photo toward him. He’d take it, study it, then hand it back. Sometimes he even murmured a comment.
But the biggest indicator he felt comfortable around her? The hood of his sweatshirt lay flat against his back, his head uncovered.
Quinn glanced over, watched all those same observations register on his best friend’s face.
“Well, fucking A,” Gabe muttered.
“Looks like she might keep him on an even keel.”
“Fucking A,” Gabe said again.
Quinn started forward, but Gabe caught his arm before he stepped into the room and pulled him back to the hall, out of earshot of the guys. “One more thing before we go in there.”
“Yeah?”
Gabe ran his tongue along his teeth, seeming to weigh his words before speaking. “You read all of Hendricks’s reports?”
“Yes, I did. Is there a reason we haven’t briefed the men on that clusterfuck situation yet?”
“Because our focus needs to be one hundred percent on Sergeant Hendricks. The nuke…” He scrubbed a hand over his head and exhaled hard. “Frankly, we don’t have enough manpower to handle something like that. We’re a hostage rescue team, not an anti-terror unit.”
Quinn nodded. “I completely agree, but what are we going to do about it? We can’t let Siddiqui make that deal.”
“I don’t plan to, which brings me to the final reason you need to stay here. Our old team is at Bagram right now.”
“Yeah, I’m not going to ask how you know that.”
“Better not,” Gabe said with a tight smile. “But it’s good to know we have a sympathetic ear in this country. You can take Hendricks’s information to Commander Bennett without telling him how we came into possession of it. Bennett should be able to put it in the right hands in time to stop the deal.”
Quinn’s stomach tightened uncomfortably at the mention of their former commander. He’d never cared for the guy on a personal level, but professionally, Bennett was a solid SEAL. So maybe it was only the idea of seeing the old team again. They had all been supportive since Quinn’s medical retirement, but as time dragged on, they had drifted away. He hadn’t been to Bagram since…well, since returning from the operation that rescued Seth. It promised to be an awkward reunion at best.
He nodded anyway. “I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Oh, this one. Now there’s an interesting story behind this one…”
Phoebe shoved another photo into his hand, but Seth couldn’t tear his eyes from her to spare it more than the briefest of glances. And frankly, he didn’t want to. Now that he wasn’t chasing her down like a criminal and holding her prisoner—which he would never forgive himself for—she was so…vibrant. Animated. Full of joy and laughter.
His exact opposite in every way.
Her eyes sparkled as she talked about her photos and the stories behind them. A marriage ceremony in India. A Saudi woman in a burqa and high heels. A tiny girl from Nepal decked out in a red dress for her betrothal ceremony. She recalled the details of each photo with such vivid precision, he felt like he had been there with her, watching the events unfold.
“This one,” she said and handed him another print. It showed the silhouette of a man tying a dog to a rusted-out tank. The setting sun lit the village behind him in a splash of pinks and oranges. “I took it right before we met Tehani. That’s her village there.”
“It’s…” He couldn’t find the right word to describe the photo. “Breathtaking.”
Her eyes lit up. “You think so? It’s my favorite so far.”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s an amazing picture. You’re very talented.” And she had such a unique way of seeing the world, finding beauty and hope where there should be none. But that didn’t mean she needed to go back up into those mountains.
He returned the photo to her. “You should stay behind.”
She shook her head. “Not happening, so you can forget about
trying to convince me. Tehani asked me to check on her family while we’re there and I have no plans of disappointing her. Maybe I can even convince her sister-in-law to return to the shelter.”
So much hope in her voice. How could one person contain that much optimism? Especially in a place as dark as this shithole of a country?
“Besides,” she added, “it’s not like I’m going all the way to the compound with you. I’ll be safe in the village.”
Movement at the door caught his attention, and his muscles instantly tightened out of pure reflex. He couldn’t even recall the last time he didn’t tense up at unexpected movement. Probably sometime before he’d left Bagram Airfield with his old team on his last fubar mission. A lifetime and a half ago, at least.
Gabe limped into the room, Quinn trailing in his wake. Shortly after, the rest of the team filed in, Harvard bringing up the rear with his ever-present laptop—the thing was like an extension of his body. He shut the door behind him and claustrophobia folded its clammy hands around Seth.
“Breathe,” Phoebe reminded him softly.
Releasing the breath caught in his lungs, he pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt. He felt the guys’ eyes on him and, shit, did they all know he used the hood like a security blanket? The back of his neck warmed. He pulled the hood off again and vowed to burn the sweatshirt at his first opportunity. From here on out, it was T-shirts, jackets. No more hoods to hide behind.
He wasn’t a toddler in need of comfort, for fuck’s sake.
Gabe broke the silence. “All right, gentlemen. Listen up. Here’s how this op is going to work.” He unfolded a large map and taped it up on the wall. “Phoebe, do you want to get us started with our itinerary?”
“Sure thing.” She stood and uncapped the highlighter Harvard handed her as she walked toward the map. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll drive as far as Asadabad in Kunar Province.” She circled the city. “And that, unfortunately, is the end of the paved road. My fixer—”
“Fixer?” Marcus interrupted. “Sorry, but that sounds slightly illegal.”
“Leave it to the former Fed,” Ian muttered.
“Hey, lay off him,” Jesse snapped. “At least he’s got a conscience and not a black pit for a soul.”
“Not illegal at all,” Phoebe said, raising her voice only the slightest bit above the arguing. She handled them all with the grace and patience of a schoolteacher bringing an unruly class to order, and a sudden burst of pride caught Seth completely off guard.
“Fixer,” she continued once she had silence again, “is journalist-speak for a local person who helps lubricate relations with the locals. I’ve already contacted my fixer in Asadabad and he’s set up a place for us to spend the night in Akhgar Village, which is seven-ish miles into the valley”—she pointed to the map—“here. We’ll have to take horses because there are no roads. From Akhgar, it’s another ten, fifteen miles into the mountains to Niazi Village.”
Gabe and Quinn shared a glance and a whole conversation seemed to pass between them in that instant. Quinn swore softly.
With a grim nod of agreement, Gabe returned to the front of the room and stood next to Phoebe. “Gentlemen, this is serious shit. Quinn and I know this area. We’ve lost a lot of SEALs here and it is still very much under Taliban control.” His looked at Phoebe. “I can’t believe you and Zina went up there with only a police escort. Jesus Christ, woman. You should have gone up with a cavalry.”
She blew out a breath, her frustration clear. “No, you’re missing the point. We made it because we went up lightly. If we’d taken a cavalry, they wouldn’t have thought twice about shooting at us. Instead, we looked like modest Muslim women traveling with our husbands and they left us alone. Which is why I suggest some of you wear a chadari.” She left the room and returned seconds later with a handful of blue material. “The rest of you should wear local male clothing. We need to look as nonthreatening as possible. We go in with guns blazing, we’re probably not going to make it out.”
“You want us to dress like women?” Jean-Luc asked.
“Is that a problem for you?”
He grinned and took the veil she handed him. “Nah, mon cher, I’m always up for a little kink. Though I gotta say, gender swapping’s a new one.”
She laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”
“That’s what Marcus’s mama said last night.”
The joke slammed into Seth like a punch to the gut and he watched through a haze as Marcus reached over and smacked Jean-Luc on the head. Except he didn’t see Marcus and Jean-Luc. Rather, two of his former teammates, Aaron “Bowie” Bowman and Omar Cordero, ragging on each other in the chow hall at Bagram. The two of them never managed to run out of yo mama jokes, despite their ongoing war to one-up each other.
“Hey, Cordero. Yo mama so dirty her bathwater’s considered a chemical weapon.”
“Yo, Bowie! Yo mama so white, she make the Pillsbury Doughboy look Puerto Rican.”
Soft fingers brushed his cheek, jarring him back to the present. Not Cordero and Bowie. Marcus and Jean-Luc. He blinked and stared up into Phoebe’s worried eyes. She’d finished passing out the veils, leaving one for herself, and had returned to her spot at his side to set her veil down on top of her bag.
She didn’t say anything, didn’t draw attention to his mental slip in any way. She just smiled and tilted her head, indicating Gabe, who still stood by the map.
Right. Gabe was going over details of the op again.
He made himself pay attention and commit every word to memory. He wouldn’t be going up into those mountains unprepared a second time.
Phoebe sat down beside him and, to his utter surprise, entwined her fingers through his. It was…comforting. More so than his hood ever was. Her skin felt soft against his scar-roughened flesh and caused all kinds of short-circuiting in his higher functions. What would it feel like to have those hands on his chest? And then sliding lower…
Gabe’s team briefing became nothing but background noise as every cell in his being focused on the feel of Phoebe’s hand, so small in his. Seemingly fragile, but he knew better. She was strong, probably even stronger than him. Nothing could break her, and with that knowledge came a strange sense of peace. There was no way he could damage this woman or corrupt her with his darkness. And maybe…
Was it possible the unbreakable had the ability to fix the broken?
Christ, with the way a simple touch from her lit him up, he almost believed it. She’d make him whole again and then—
No. Fuck, no. He shook his head and pulled his hand free from her grasp. Thinking like that was ridiculous. Dangerous.
Wrong.
And he needed to focus on the goddamn briefing.
Chapter Fifteen
The wafting scent of traditional Afghan dishes coming from the kitchen sent Seth’s stomach churning, but he paused at the bottom of the stairs and glanced toward the sound of muffled voices in the dining room. He should go in there, but couldn’t imagine sitting down at a table with the guys and putting food in his mouth like it was a big happy family dinner.
No fucking way.
“Hey, there you are.”
He froze at Phoebe’s voice from the top of the stairs and cast around for an escape. The front door sat straight ahead of him, the team’s makeshift war room to the left, dining room to the right. Either of the latter two places would leave him trapped, so the door was his only option. He started toward it.
“Hey, wait. Seth! Where are you going? Aren’t you hungry?”
“No,” he answered and told himself no matter what, he wouldn’t look back. If he did, she’d ensnare him again in that strange way she had.
“You have to be hungry. You haven’t eaten all day.”
Halfway out the door, he hesitated. The note of worry in her voice hit him dead center in his empty gut and some of his resolve to avoid her withered.
“Please,” she said directly behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Will you just stop for a minut
e and talk to me? You’ve been avoiding me since the briefing.”
He opened his mouth to deny it but the scowl she gave him would have scared a pathological liar into spilling the truth.
“Yeah,” he said instead, and her brow wrinkled.
“Did I do or say something to offend you? If I did, I’m sorry.”
“No.” Jesus, he hadn’t meant for her to think that. Honestly, he figured she’d be relieved to be rid of him. He wasn’t exactly glowing company on the best of days, and the last two had ranked among his worst. All the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of this fucking country had him so off-kilter he felt like a grenade just waiting for someone to pull his pin.
When he said nothing more, Phoebe’s hand dropped off his shoulder. “Did Gabe talk to you about those reports?”
Thrown by the sudden topic change, he turned from the door. “Yes, he did.”
She rolled her lower lip between her teeth. “Do you agree with his decision not to tell the others about the bomb?”
“He said he has it under control and he doesn’t want anything taking the team’s focus off the mission. I agree that Hendricks has to be our first priority, but I’m also sure Gabe wouldn’t just sit back and do nothing if there was an imminent threat of the bomb going into play.”
“You don’t think there is?”
He hesitated. “I think there will be if nothing is done to stop Siddiqui.”
Phoebe shoved her curls back from her face. It was the first time she’d worn her hair down and his fingers itched to sink into all of those corkscrews. “I still think we should make those reports public. Siddiqui can’t go through with his plans if everyone knows. Plus, he won’t get elected.”
“You’re forgetting the huge bull’s-eye you’ll paint on your back as soon as you go public.”
“No, I’m not,” she countered somewhat primly. “I’ll report it anonymously.”
“Nothing’s anonymous. He will find out who’s responsible and he will want revenge. And worse, at that point he’ll have nothing to lose.” When she didn’t seem at all deterred, he gripped her shoulders. “Listen to me, this is not America. You are not entitled to safety here. Nobody is safe in Afghanistan.”
Honor Reclaimed Page 10