by Julie Rowe
She grinned at him.
He had her reload her weapon and made more small corrections to her stance. “That’s it, slow and easy.” He had to shout, but it was better than pulling her out of position every time to suggest a correction. “Take your time and aim for mid-chest.”
She sucked in a breath at the same time she squeezed the trigger. The shot penetrated the target’s shoulder.
“Try breathing out and firing just as the air is all gone. There’s a moment then when you’re as still as you’re going to be.”
She nodded, her hair, tightly pulled back into a bun, brushing his cheek. She let the air out of her lungs and fired. It hit dead center.
She gave an excited yip, which screwed up her next two shots before she settled down and began hitting the target mid-chest consistently again.
By the time they were done, it was lunchtime and Con was hot, bothered and bad-tempered about it.
Sophia wore a huge grin on her face and preened as they made their way to the food court. As soon as she saw Eugene and Max she rushed over to tell them about her success in the shooting range.
“You’re not a sniper yet,” Con told her, nudging her shoulder with his. “But with some practice I think you’ll be a good shot.”
Eugene gave her a high five, and while Max attempted to look repressive, he also couldn’t hide his pleased smile when he said, “Excellent. Perhaps you could give Eugene and me a lesson or two as well.”
Sophia snorted. “You’d need a lot more than a couple of lessons, Max.” She turned to Con and said, “He doesn’t even hit the target most of the time. Eugene’s pretty good, though.”
“Sounds like you need an intensive refresher,” Con said to Max. “I’m not sure I have time for that.”
“He’s getting his own instructor in a few weeks,” Eugene put in. “But I’d like to ask a few questions about firearms.”
Yup, he was working with a bunch of geeks. And that was okay. They needed him just as much as he needed them.
“No problem, Gene. Do you want time on the range?”
“Not right now. Things are busy at the lab.” The way he said it, with a quick look at his boss, told Con things were moderately shitty at the lab, and were likely to get shittier.
“We can talk shop after lunch,” Con told him.
“Sounds good, Conman.”
Conman. The nickname his old team had given him.
Everything he’d just eaten turned to cold stone in his stomach as he was thrown back to the last happy moment before the blast. His best buddy was telling a joke and Con had interrupted to correct the punch line.
“Don’t you believe the Conman,” Wayne had said, laughing to everyone else.
All he remembered after that was noise, pain and darkness.
Chapter Six
Well, weren’t they a happy group.
Sophia walked next to Eugene, and in front of Connor and Max, both of whom looked grumpier than a couple of grizzly bears fresh out of hibernation. She understood why Eugene and Max were out of sorts. Jones had taken Eugene aside for a quick conversation about supplies, she said. From the shell-shocked expression on his face, Sophia doubted they talked about how many swabs needed to be ordered. Max had his own set of women troubles. He had an ex who could trample an entire team of Special Forces soldiers and she’d called him on his personal cell phone. Sophia didn’t know what she said, but Max had looked like he wanted to kill someone. Her boss also had a female weapons and self-defense trainer who was very hard to please.
Why Con was suddenly in a crummy mood, she didn’t know.
He followed her into her office, where she found a tray of blood smears waiting for her to look at, as well as a stack of reports for her to review. She glanced over her shoulder to see him glaring at her.
“You’re harshing my mellow,” she told him. “Why don’t you talk to Eugene? I’m not going anywhere.”
Con’s eyebrow climbed up his forehead. “Harshing your mellow?” He shook his head. “The new age was two decades ago.”
“Stop glaring at me and I might consider using a more current metaphor.”
He blinked, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit.” He muttered something else she didn’t catch, then said loud enough for her to hear, “Sorry, Sophia. Something I ate isn’t agreeing with me. If you have other work to do right now, maybe I’ll go see what Eugene needs.”
“I have to review these slides and reports. It’s going to take me some time.”
He nodded, still looking chastised, and left her office.
She stared after him. She’d liked the way he’d said her name. His voice, low and rough, made it sound exotic.
Stop daydreaming, idiot.
An hour later, she finished reviewing the reports and got up to take them to Eugene, who would make sure they got where they needed to go.
He wasn’t at his desk, but she could hear him talking to someone in Max’s office. Except she was sure Max was at a meeting with the base commander. Then she heard Con rumble a reply and she relaxed.
She was about to return to her own office when she heard Eugene say quite clearly, “I really need your help. I’ve never been in a situation like this before, and I’ve got no one else I can ask.”
“Okay, okay,” Con replied. “I’m not seeing the problem, though.”
“Thanks, man. The thing is, I don’t want a quick blow job, but how do you tell a woman no to that? She’s going to think I’m crazy.”
The word blow job froze her in place.
“How many times has she offered?”
“Just the once, but that’s not what I want. I want a real relationship.”
“So tell her that. And then tell her what you want to do to her.” Con’s voice was matter-of-fact. “In great detail.”
“I don’t know. I mean, I’m not so eloquent when I’m nervous, you know?”
“Gene, most women like it if you talk dirty to them.”
“Um, I just, what should I do to her?”
There was a pause, then Con sighed and said, “Holy fuck, Gene, have you never fooled around?”
“I’m a geek, Con, and I’ve never been comfortable talking to women I don’t know. If Jones hadn’t made the first move I wouldn’t have gotten to the point where I needed to have this conversation with anyone.”
There was a long pause, then Con said, “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do. You tell her that it’s your turn for some dessert, and then you’re going to eat her out.”
“Uh...”
“Oral sex, Gene. You’re going to lick and suck on her clit while you finger fuck her. All you have to do is listen to her to know if you’re doing it right. You’re smart, you’ll catch on quick.”
Ohmygod.
“Oookay.” Eugene sounded as gobsmacked as she felt. Who needed to breathe when the image of Con doing all that to her, his head between her legs, was all she could think about.
“Something tells me she’ll give you very specific feedback for the whole shebang.”
Sophia’s breathing was much too loud, but she couldn’t do a thing about it. Con’s advice on how to give oral sex sounded good to her. Really good.
Movement from inside Max’s office had her rushing into her own as quietly as she could. She dashed across the room and sat behind her microscope, breathing much too fast for someone who was trying to pretend she hadn’t just overheard the sexiest sex advice ever.
A knock on her doorjamb jerked her gaze up.
Con stood in the doorway. “Do you mind if I bring my reports in here to read?”
He looked perfectly normal, not like a man who’d just been mentoring a younger man on how to pleasure a woman. She managed a shaky smile. “Not at all, you can use the other desk if you like.�
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He frowned. “Is there something wrong? You look a little shell-shocked.”
She ignored the heat coming off her face and prayed he didn’t notice. “I’m okay, just lost in thought when you knocked.” Very lost. Who cares if she ever got found, lost.
“I’ll be right back.” He disappeared and Sophia finally let out the breath she was holding.
Con came back a minute later, enough time for her to put an actual slide on the microscope. She took it off after he came in and put the whole tray of slides aside to be filed.
In an effort to get sexual fantasies about Con out of her head, she pulled out a report sent to her from the CDC regarding the current incidence of a variety of infectious diseases around the world.
If people knew how many deadly infectious diseases were active on the planet, they’d be surprised—and a whole lot more paranoid about catching one.
Con swore and she glanced at him. His voice sounded tight. “What?”
He looked up from the report he was reading, anger sharpening his features. “This Akbar asshole is nuts.”
“Yes, he is.”
“How did he not kill himself with that anthrax he messed with?”
“We don’t know. He doesn’t appear to take the proper precautions to prevent infecting himself with whatever he’s working with, but we could be wrong.”
Con grumbled under his breath some more, then said clearly, “The problem with predicting what a madman will do is that they’re unpredictable. He won’t make rational decisions.”
She considered that. “He has no moral compass and wants revenge. What would a man determined to kill as many people as possible do?”
Con stared at her, but she could almost hear the gears in his head turning. “He’s a chemist.”
She waited for him to continue his train of thought.
“Why isn’t he using chemical weapons?” Con asked.
She thought it was a rhetorical question, but she answered it anyway. “Chemical weapons have a limit. Infect people with the right disease and it could end up everywhere.”
“I think you’re right.” He gave her a sidelong look. “That’s creepy.”
She ignored his last remark. “It makes sense if the goal is to kill as many people as possible.”
“The anthrax he used killed in hours.”
“Yes, it did, but we haven’t seen it pop up anywhere since. I think he’s moved on to something more infectious. Something more easily transmitted from person to person.”
“Like what?”
He asked the question like there was a simple answer. There wasn’t. “There are many possible pathogens that fit the criteria of infectious and deadly.”
Con looked startled. “How many?”
“Dozens. Some bacterial, some viral, some more exotic. There is a microscopic world that most people don’t realize exists. Most microscopic organisms are benign, some even helpful, but there are plenty of pathogens that are primed and ready to wipe us out if the conditions are right. Or wrong.”
“Something tells me,” Con said slowly, running one hand through his short hair. “I’m going to learn way too many things I don’t want to know on this mission.”
She scooted over to him and poked his shoulder. “Lucky for you, I happen to be an excellent teacher.”
* * *
Dinner that night was oddly entertaining.
Jones watched Eugene with covert glances while he blushed and pretended an extreme interest in his food. Max and Sophia spent the whole meal discussing which viruses and bacteria would make the best weapon in Akbar’s mind. They came up with a short list of eighteen possibilities. When Con had commented that eighteen was seventeen too many, they tried to explain to him why they couldn’t remove one deadly disease after another from the list. Plus, if they removed one possibility, and Akbar used it, then they wouldn’t be prepared to deal with it.
He swallowed his sigh and simply nodded.
What he’d learned about Akbar sparked anger and anticipation. The guy deserved to die. He’d murdered soldiers and civilians alike, and taking him out would go a long way to put to rest Con’s need to administer retribution against the extremists who killed his team.
So why was he so damned tired?
Max and Sophia were still chatting about pathogens, their voices determined, confident and full of energy. For a moment, they sounded like his teammates used to when talking about a mission plan. Identifying problems, brainstorming solutions and making inside jokes only they understood.
Loss hit him like a shot to the gut. For a moment he couldn’t breathe and didn’t much care to. Without his battle buddies, he was just a desperate fuck who couldn’t wait to die.
“I need some air,” he said, getting to his feet and trying not to look as fucked up as he felt. “Are you okay sticking with the colonel?” he asked Sophia.
She nodded.
“Yes, yes,” Max said absently. “I’ll watch out for her.”
“I’ll pick you up at your quarters for your Tai Chi lesson in a couple of hours,” Con said. After he got his head back on straight.
“Okay.” She waved absently at him and he almost laughed at her single-mindedness. He should thank her for it. So why was he almost disappointed by her dismissal of him?
At first he wandered, no particular destination in mind. He watched as a group of men went through a physical training routine led by a loudmouth sergeant. The drill, the personnel going about their duties, was so damned normal he found himself easing back from the emotional ledge he’d been balanced on.
Still, he could feel the abyss in the back of his head, ready and waiting to suck him under.
He’d done the standard tour of the base, but he wanted to take another look around to note every way to get in and out, whether it was marked or a route only an acrobat could manage. Construction was ongoing, with new barracks, administrative and operational buildings all going up. Lots of civilians all over the place.
That made his trigger finger twitch.
Infiltration was a possibility he couldn’t ignore. The checkpoints inside the base were only an inconvenience to a determined attacker or group of attackers. If this Akbar guy was targeting Max and his group, the construction crews could be a useful cover to get inside.
The medical clinic was just as busy as the Freedom souq despite the time. The only area with no one on it was the ball diamond.
The deaths of his battle buddies required a response. Could he do that and fulfill his responsibilities to Sophia, as well? He hated using her like this. When he’d interviewed for this assignment, he’d felt sure that he wouldn’t like some persnickety genius doctor, but now he’d gotten to know her, and she was funny, smart and more honest than any person he’d ever met before. He didn’t want to feel something for her—not friendship or a gut-deep connection that was starting to invade his dreams.
Remember the motto before you become another moron.
Professional. Distant. Hands-off.
Con headed toward his room. He rounded the corner at the end of the hallway to find Sophia already outside her door, but not alone.
Two men dressed as construction workers had her crowded against the wall in the space between her door and his. One of them had her by the arm. The other had his hand over her mouth.
They were attempting to drag her away from her room while she kicked and punched like crazy.
Con’s body dumped liquid rocket fuel into his bloodstream, and he was moving—silent, focused and bracing his body for the fight ahead.
He’d crossed half the distance when she bit the hand over her mouth and shouted, “Security.”
Con reached them the next second and attacked the closest man from behind, breaking his arm in a precise, controlled movement. The other man l
et go of Sophia and reached for something on his belt. Con elbowed him in the gut, pivoted around him then swept his feet out from under him and took him to the ground. Fierce pleasure at taking an attacker to the floor surged through him and he ignored the man’s yells of pain. Facedown with Con’s knee on his back and his arms in Con’s grip, he couldn’t move.
Con looked at the first guy, expecting him to be attacking with a weapon, but he was on the floor, groaning, as tightly wrapped around his broken arm as a body could get.
The guy underneath him tried to buck him off, but Con shifted his weight along with his captive and leaned harder on his back. He stopped trying to get away and settled for just breathing.
“Are you hurt?” he asked Sophia, riding the emotionless plateau of the adrenaline high. Emotionless, but dangerous in a way few people understood. He could kill both men easily, without hesitation or remorse. He wanted to. They’d put their hands on her and would have taken her away and hurt her if he hadn’t arrived when he did.
Sophia stared at him with big eyes for a long moment, then closed her mouth and shook her head. She straightened up and said in a shaky voice, “I’ll go find security.”
“No.” His shout sounded rusty. Worse, his hands shook like he was an alcoholic who hadn’t had a drink in a week. He needed to focus. She was his responsibility and he’d be damned if he let anyone else hurt her. To do that he needed her in sight, close enough that he could cover her if he needed to. “You don’t leave my side.” If he could see her, and know she was okay, he’d keep it together. Otherwise... “Give another shout, but this time yell fire.”
She blinked, then hollered it twice.
Down the hall, a couple of guys stumbled sleepily out of their rooms. They looked at Con and the men on the floor.
“Call the MPs,” Con ordered. They were probably officers, but he didn’t give a shit. “These men were assaulting an officer.”
The attacker with the broken arm tried to get up and run, but Con kicked his feet out from under him. He fell, landing on his side.
That had to hurt.
One of the two guys they’d woken up ran down the hall while the other approached carefully.