By Break of Day (The Night Stalkers)

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By Break of Day (The Night Stalkers) Page 22

by M. L. Buchman


  He was hoping that Kara was one of the ones who was “no wiser” about the nature of the mission.

  The Activity had two specialties, SIGINT and HUMINT.

  Signal Intelligence was handled by the knob-turners of The Activity. The ones who could track cell phones by 1990. The ones who now ran the unblinking eye over war zones that allowed them to see a car bombing and then run combined RPA and satellite video backwards through a day or more to identify the bomber’s point of origin.

  Justin had flown some of those missions, being instructed second by second as the intelligence rolled backward in time and the attack he delivered from his cargo bay rolled forward.

  Human Intelligence was guys like Tom going in on the ground and interacting with people. None of Justin’s crew had been allowed near the Humvee that they’d extracted from Ramon Airbase. What, or maybe who, had been in the shadowed interior of that vehicle?

  There was the question he didn’t want Kara even thinking about, let alone asking.

  Fooling yourself, boy, if you think she doesn’t see it also. Nothing slips past Kara’s guard.

  Well, nothing except for himself. Somehow he’d slid past her defenses. He still didn’t know how to make sense of the last few days. It was as if he’d been a different person, lost in a city, practically drunk on his joy of being around Kara.

  Had he gone home for leave, he’d have ridden, maybe done some teaching with the kids, and not given a thought to any of his actions. Instead he was wrapped up in New York City and the Morettis, and totally lost out on the wide prairie that was Kara.

  Kara.

  To her the last days had probably made perfect sense. To her this meeting—

  Justin jerked upright.

  “Wait a sec,” he cut in on the ongoing logistics discussion. Three or four of The Activity analysts had now rolled their chairs up to the table. They were in a heated discussion on best methods to circumvent perimeter security, which would certainly have been heightened due to last month’s raid.

  Michael looked at him though the others kept talking.

  “Hey!”

  “Is for horses,” Kara responded, finally coming out of whatever tactical haze she’d descended into.

  “Does it make sense?”

  Tom started to speak but Justin waved him to silence.

  “Think, Kara. Something’s wrong here. The Activity not willing to communicate with Mossad about a possible mole. How much you want to bet that one of these desks normally has an Israeli intelligence agent sitting at it? Maybe it does even now.” He looked around The Ring. “Any of you Mossad?”

  A half-dozen analysts popped their heads up to look at him through narrowed eyes.

  “Never mind, you wouldn’t tell me if you were.”

  But he’d seen where Wilson’s gaze had drifted, to one man who studiously kept his head behind his monitor. One of the analysts who had been paying close attention throughout the meeting without coming forward.

  “You.” Justin pointed. “If you wouldn’t mind joining us, we’d like to know quite what’s happening that we aren’t being told.”

  The man shrugged and rolled his chair over. His attempts to make it look casual were wholly ineffective. He was really wound up about this for some reason.

  “Hi. I’m Yussel.” But it didn’t come out as casually as the words intended.

  “For today,” Kara muttered.

  “Actually, that is my real name. I do use it on occasion.”

  Justin would feel better if there was even on lick of a smile on the man’s face. There wasn’t.

  “They’ve been giving it to you straight up,” Yussel insisted. Which told Justin something else about what was happening. There was some “next-level bullshit going on,” as Kara would say.

  “These guys are all taking themselves too seriously.” Justin kept his conversation aimed at Kara. “The horse and rider that win the rodeo are the ones who ride easy in the saddle, but these guys are acting like high-strung East Coast jockeys. No offense, guys.”

  Major Wilson looked pissed; Tom looked thoughtful. Several of the analysts were about to tell Justin he was completely wrong, which would only prove him right. The Yussel guy looked ready to come across the table at him to defend how serious he was about his country’s security.

  Michael had frozen in stillness as if scenting a change in the wind and not yet knowing what to make of it. So he wasn’t in on it either, but he obviously agreed with Justin now that he’d pointed out the problem.

  Kara was nodding. “They’re more on edge than a Mafia capo with heartburn and an FBI tail. Giving me another reason to like you, Cowboy.”

  * * *

  Kara kicked Justin in a friendly fashion under the table. Usually his smile or his body dazzled her, but this time it was his brain. He’d picked up on exactly what was wrong with this whole meeting and then had the guts to lay it straight out on the table.

  Now that he’d pointed it out, she’d felt the tension building throughout the briefing.

  Now she and Justin had shifted into a perfect sync of their own. Like when he flew and she felt she was right inside his head. Like when they made love in such perfect synchronicity.

  “They made a mistake, didn’t they?” she asked him, wanting to rub their noses in it.

  “I reckon they did.” Justin laid on the Texas drawl as thick as barbecue sauce.

  “What?” Willy Wilson snapped out. She loved that Justin could just crawl under that creep’s skin.

  “Y’all”—she gave it a deliberate Brooklyn nasal twang—“focused on distracting little ol’ me because I’m the 5D’s Air Mission Commander. You forgot there’s a reason the cowboy is in the room and it’s not only because he’s pretty. He’s also one of the best helo pilots there is, anywhere. That means he ain’t some down-home cracker; instead he’s sharp as hell.”

  “But he is so very pretty.” A tall blond walked into The Ring from somewhere out of their range of sight. She had one of those figures that was impossible to ignore and her tight T-shirt and form-hugging slacks did everything to display it. Her English was accented and as lush as her curves. There was an obvious strength to her, a soldier’s strength. Her straight hair swung along her jaw as she sashayed over to the table.

  The Yussel guy clearly was as puzzled as Kara was by the woman’s identity.

  Justin’s stare had been riveted in place before she’d even crossed half the distance to the table.

  Kara kicked him again, not so friendly this time.

  He jolted—she’d forgotten she was still wearing her new boots—glanced at Kara, and then shook his head as if trying to shake off a case of hypnosis.

  Kara wasn’t prepared for the deep surge of jealousy that shot through her. Did she really care that much about where Justin’s attention drifted? So he was looking at another woman who was astonishing and deserved a second look. That she was blond, beautiful, and much closer to Justin’s height didn’t help; they would look amazing together. But that didn’t make the taste in Kara’s mouth one bit less bitter. Since when did Kara Moretti get all possessive over a man? Never…until now.

  The woman settled into a vacant chair as if she were the queen ruling the room—a queen wholly aware of the raw sexual impact she wielded with every gesture.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Kara could see Michael exchanging nods with the woman. It was a nod of deep respect in both directions. Major message there. The only person who would impress the top operator in all of Delta Force would be…

  Kara glanced at Justin who had also noticed the silent exchange.

  He nodded his agreement with Kara’s assessment.

  She wasn’t sure if it was okay to say the word aloud, then she considered that they were sitting inside a planning room for The Activity, perhaps the main planning room. Not many more secure places anywhere.


  “James Logan,” Justin said, making Kara snort with laughter. He grinned at her and she felt the warmth there. It made her less ticked off by how he’d stared at the blond.

  “Oh God, that’s perfect, Cowboy.”

  Everyone else around the table looked mystified. She’d learned that Michael was a very linear thinker without much of a sense of humor that she’d ever seen. The woman, Kara could see, was almost there. Was it a cultural gap that kept her from seeing the joke, or wasn’t she sharp enough? Easy to find out.

  Because Kara still felt so out of her depth and wound up, she decided to compensate by tipping her chair back and propping the heels of her pretty new boots on the table before speaking.

  “James Logan? A particularly lethal and contrary comic book hero.”

  Still the blank looks all around. Wasn’t a soul at the table other than Justin who was up on their comic lore.

  “James Logan,” Kara repeated once more, then sighed. “Also known as the Wolverine from the X-Men.”

  The woman burst out laughing. It was a bright merry sound and left Kara feeling far more kindly disposed toward her.

  Tom grunted and Michael’s brow finally cleared as he caught up with the analogy.

  “Wolverine,” Justin explained for those around the table who were still lost. “In the last few months I’ve met the women of SOAR’s 5th Battalion, D Company”—he tipped his hat to Kara—“Delta Force operators, and The Activity. I figure that the Wolverine must be showing up next, now that I’ve met a Kidon operator.”

  Yussel flinched and his eyes shot wide. Tom began nodding as if now things were making sense. Major Wilson simply looked confused, as if he had no idea what they were talking about.

  The woman’s smile was radiant as she addressed Michael but kept her focus on Kara. “You were right, Colonel Gibson. They both managed that with so few clues. It is very good.”

  “Anyone care to give me a goddamn clue?” Wilson snarled.

  “Willy Nilly”—several people around the table chuckled at Kara’s nickname for him—“I’m shocked that you haven’t heard rumors of Mossad’s elite counterterrorism squad. They put the CIA’s Special Activities Division to shame for both effectiveness and secrecy. Of course, I never believed the rumors of their existence; they were even sparser than The Activity’s. But it was the only piece that fits the puzzle this woman presents.”

  “Tanya,” the woman acknowledged without confirming or denying her membership in Israel’s Kidon kill squad.

  Kara nodded her head. They were in a world of first names only. She felt exposed that she, Justin, and Michael were clearly so well known. Since there wasn’t squat she could do about that now, she shrugged it off.

  “Okay, Tanya. Spill it.” Then Kara remained tipped back in her chair to listen.

  “How completely do you trust your people?”

  Kara considered Tanya’s question. “Varies according to their abilities and my experience with them in general. The personnel of the 5D, immensely. The cowboy”—she hooked a thumb at Justin—“I’d trust him with my life.”

  Which startled both of them.

  Kara’s boots slipped off the edge of the table and thunked to the floor, making everyone jump. That couldn’t have just come out of her mouth!

  Kara only trusted family. Cops’ kids learned that one early.

  Don’t trust outsiders, ever.

  Growing up she’d seen too much trouble between even cops and their partners. And though in her neighborhood her parents were typical in still being married, in her military life any marriage that lasted five years beneath the grinding wheel of military deployments was considered a major success. Ten was almost as mythical as Wolverine himself. Outside of the 5D, she didn’t know of all that many military marriages that survived even two years.

  Trust was for the person who had your back during the firefight…except she’d never been in a firefight.

  She’d heard military teams trusted each other with their lives. Kara supposed they had to. Yet another way she didn’t fit in. She’d always been safe, outside the action team. She trusted their actions, but it was never her life on the line.

  So how was it that the 5D trusted her? How did she become their AMC? It made no sense. The arrogance that she displayed in thinking she could—

  “Easy there, Brooklyn.” Justin’s voice was a soft whisper and stopped her crazy spiral.

  What if—

  “Let me get this straight.” Justin leaned into the conversation to give her a moment.

  He really did have her back, even against her own internal craziness. It was a heady feeling. The possibility of a touchstone in her life. Justin was as rock solid as they came, and somehow it was her that he was there for. She listened to his voice, trusted it to guide her, and let it lead her back into the conversation.

  “How many missions fail due to leaked information?” Justin looked at Michael.

  His grim expression spoke volumes. “Fewer than fail due to poor intelligence. Which is the purpose behind this group.” Michael addressed the last remark to Tanya.

  “We do suffer a higher percentage of security failures because Israel is so young and so much less secure,” Tanya acknowledged. “On occasion we need assistance with…security issues to remove them.”

  “But in this case…” Justin prompted.

  “But in this case”—Tanya sighed—“the problem may be on our air base, however, it is not actually ‘ours.’”

  “The American Camp.” Kara knew she was right as soon as she said it. She’d just found the next-level problem.

  Tanya tipped her head toward Tom who nodded.

  “Shit!” Justin’s curse sounded in the suddenly silent room.

  “The mole”—Tanya’s tone bore anger as deep as any Kara had ever heard—“the Americans insist, will be Washington’s problem. Not because we cannot find him, but because they don’t want anyone else knowing about their dirty laundry. So he must be your FBI’s to resolve. Our job is to clean up the mess in Israel with no one the smarter—not your people, not my people.”

  “Captain Moretti.” Michael Gibson’s voice was soft, pacifying. “I promised Tanya our very best assets to resolve this matter with absolute discretion.”

  Kara couldn’t react. All she could do was stare at the Delta Force Colonel. What the hell was he whistling out his ass? She’d been SOAR mission-qualified for only a handful of months. She’d been the AMC for a handful of weeks.

  Granted she was in the 5D, but she was supposed to…

  Shit! She was…

  “We’re going for a walk.” A deep voice cut through the ringing in her ears. “Come along, Kara. Walk and talk.” Justin coaxed her to her feet and she stumbled after him, letting him lead wherever he wanted.

  * * *

  As they stepped back out of the building and into the darkness, Justin was thankful for the fresh air, but Kara was still in shock. Justin had thought she was good, but he hadn’t known she was that damn good. Apparently neither had she, which he rather liked about her.

  Feet planted on the ground, that was Kara Moretti.

  He led her across the mostly empty parking lot and into the trees, maple and oak. They smelled so different from home.

  Home.

  He suddenly ached for it. It was May. The plains would be carpeted in a hundred varieties of yellow wildflowers. Amarillo was called the “Yellow Rose of Texas” for a reason. Butterfly bush and Russian sage would be scenting the night air. The strong southerly winds carrying the warmth of the Gulf Coast northward and the wettest season of the year coaxing the land to bloom with soft rains or rolling thunderheads. Back home the winters were dry and cold, the summers warm and wet. Give him a nightjar call or a screech owl hoot and he’d feel right at home even at one in the morning.

  He wanted to show Kara the grassl
ands and the canyon country. He wanted…so much.

  But now was not a time for dreaming. Not of home, not of the woman beside him.

  He found a white oak with a heavy, low branch reaching sideways only a few feet above the ground.

  Justin lifted Kara up until she was seated on the rough bark and then scooted up beside her. He took her hand. She returned the handclasp as if it was the most natural gesture in the world, not the constant miracle he felt it to be.

  “She’s pretty,” were the first words Kara managed.

  “Who?” Not what he’d been expecting at all. “Oh.” Why was Kara thinking about Tanya the Kidon agent?

  “Good thing I’m not the jealous sort.”

  “Good thing.” Justin could feel himself smiling. “Sweetheart, if you think there’s another woman on this planet that I want to be seeing naked more than you, you’re even more addle-headed than your average Yankee.”

  She leaned in and kissed his shoulder. “You’re all right for a Texan.”

  “I take it that’s Yankee for you’re madly in love with me. I can work with that.”

  He’d been ready for the punch on the arm that Kara delivered with an impressive force despite the fact that she was laughing.

  “Damn, but you’re tenacious, Cowboy.”

  “Inherited it from Ma.” Which made him feel homesick all over again even though he was farther south than Annie was at the moment, what with her still being up in Syracuse, New York.

  “Stubborn.” Her laugh still died off too fast for Kara Moretti.

  “Guilty,” he admitted, wondering how to help her. “Of course, if there was a second woman that I wanted to see naked…”

  “She’s all show.” But there wasn’t any heat behind it.

  And he’d wager that the one thing that the Israeli agent wasn’t was all show.

  “Too bad she isn’t what’s bothering you.”

  “Yeah, too bad.” Kara sighed. “Shit, Justin. I’ve taken out plenty of bad guys before, but American bad guys? I never had to think about the possibility. What’s a girl supposed to do with that?”

 

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