Target of Mine: The Night Stalkers 5E (Titan World Book 2)

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Target of Mine: The Night Stalkers 5E (Titan World Book 2) Page 24

by M. L. Buchman


  This woman didn’t look like that for a second. She looked powerful. And dangerous.

  Her tight leathers revealed muscles made of pure soldier.

  Ralph Something moseyed out of the mess-hall building where the hundred selectees were hanging out to await the start of the next testing class at sundown.

  Well, Kyle sure wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity for a closer look. Though seeing Ralph’s attitude, Kyle hung back a bit so that he wouldn’t be too closely associated with the dickhead.

  Ralph had been spoiling for a fight ever since he’d found out he was one of the least experienced guys to show up for Delta selection. He was from the 75th Ranger Regiment, but his deployments hadn’t seen much action. Each of his attempts to brag for status had gotten him absolutely nowhere.

  Most of the guys here were 75th Rangers, 82nd Airborne, or Green Beret Special Forces like himself. And most had seen a shitload of action because that was the nature of the world at the moment. There were a couple SEALs who hadn’t made SEAL Team Six and probably weren’t going to make Delta, a dude from the Secret Service Hostage Rescue Team who wasn’t going to last a day no matter how good a shot he was, and two guys who were regular Army.

  The question of the moment though, who was she?

  Her biking leathers were high-end, sewn in a jagged lightning-bolt pattern of yellow on smoke gray. It made her look like she was racing at full tilt while standing still. He imagined her hunched over her midnight-blue machine and hustling down the road at her Ninja’s top speed—which was north of 150. He definitely had to see that one day.

  Kyle blessed the inspiration on his last leave that had made him walk past the small Toyota pickup that had looked so practical and buy the wildfire-red Ducati Multistrada 1200 instead. Pity his bike was parked around the back of the barracks at the moment. Maybe they could do a little bonding over their rides. Her machine looked absolutely cherry.

  Much like its rider.

  Ralph walked right up to her with all his arrogant and stupid hanging out for everyone to see. The other soldiers began filtering outside to watch the show.

  “Well, girlie, looks like you pulled into the wrong spot. This here is Delta territory.”

  Kyle thought about stopping Ralph, thought that someone should give the guy a good beating, but Dad had taught him control. He would take Ralph down if he got aggressive, but he really didn’t want to be associated with the jerk, even by grabbing him back.

  The woman turned to face them, then unzipped the front of her jacket in one of those long, slow movie moves. The sunlight shimmered across her hair as she gave it an “unthinking” toss. Wraparound dark glasses hid her eyes, adding to the mystery.

  He could see what there was of Ralph’s brain imploding from lack of blood. He felt the effect himself despite standing a half-dozen paces farther back.

  She wasn’t hot; she sizzled. Her parting leathers revealed an Army green T-shirt and proof that the very nice contours suggested by her outer gear were completely genuine. Her curves weren’t big—she had a lean build—but they were as pure woman as her shoulders and legs were pure soldier.

  “There’s a man who called me ‘girlie’ earlier.” Her voice was smooth and seductive, not low and throaty, but rich and filled with nuance.

  She sounded like one of those people who could hypnotize a Cobra, either the snake or the attack helicopter.

  “He’s a bird colonel. He can call me that if he wants. You aren’t nothing but meat walking on sacred ground and wishing he belonged.”

  Kyle nodded to himself. The “girlie” got it in one.

  “You”—she jabbed a finger into Sergeant Ralph Something’s chest—“do not get ‘girlie’ privileges. We clear?”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I can think of plenty of privileges that you’ll want to be giving to—” His hand only made it halfway to stroking her hair.

  If Kyle hadn’t been Green Beret trained, he wouldn’t have seen it because she moved so fast and clean.

  “—me!” Ralph’s voice shot upward on a sharp squeak.

  The woman had Ralph’s pinkie bent to the edge of dislocation and, before the man could react, had leveraged it behind his back and upward until old Ralph Something was perched on his toes trying to ease the pressure. With her free hand, she shoved against the middle of his back to send him stumbling out of control into the concrete wall of the mess hall with a loud clonk when his head hit.

  Minimum force, maximum result. The Unit’s way.

  She eased off on his finger and old Ralph dropped to the dirt like a sack of potatoes. He didn’t move much.

  “Oops.” She turned to face the crowd that had gathered.

  She didn’t even have to say, “Anyone else?” Her look said plenty.

  Kyle began to applaud. He wasn’t the only one, but he was in the minority. Most of the guys were doing a wait and see.

  A couple looked pissed.

  Everyone knew that the Marines’ combat training had graduated a few women, but that was just jarheads on the ground.

  This was Delta. The Unit was Tier One. A Special Mission Unit. They were supposed to be the one true bastion of male dominance. No one had warned them that a woman was coming in.

  Just one woman, Kyle thought. The first one. How exceptional did that make her? Pretty damn was his guess. Even if she didn’t last the first day, still pretty damn. And damn pretty. He’d bet on dark eyes behind her wraparound shades. She didn’t take them off, so it was a bet he’d have to settle later on.

  A couple corpsmen came over and carted Ralph Something away even though he was already sitting up—just dazed with a bloody cut on his forehead.

  The Deltas who’d come out to watch the show from a few buildings down didn’t say a word before going back to whatever they’d been doing.

  Kyle made a bet with himself that Ralph Something wouldn’t be showing up at sundown’s first roll call. They’d just lost the first one of the class and the selection process hadn’t even begun. Or maybe it just had.

  “Where’s check-in?” Her voice really was as lush as her hair, and it took Kyle a moment to focus on the actual words.

  He pointed at the next building over and received a nod of thanks.

  That made watching her walk away in those tight leathers strictly a bonus.

  Also by M. L. Buchman

  The Night Stalkers

  Main Flight

  The Night Is Mine

  I Own the Dawn

  Wait Until Dark

  Take Over at Midnight

  Light Up the Night

  Bring On the Dusk

  By Break of Day

  White House Holiday

  Daniel’s Christmas

  Frank’s Independence Day

  Peter’s Christmas

  Zachary’s Christmas

  Roy’s Independence Day

  Damien’s Christmas

  and the Navy

  Christmas at Steel Beach

  Christmas at Peleliu Cove

  5E

  Target of the Heart

  Target Lock on Love

  Target of Mine

  Firehawks

  Main Flight

  Pure Heat

  Full Blaze

  Hot Point

  Flash of Fire

  Wild Fire

  Smokejumpers

  Wildfire at Dawn

  Wildfire at Larch Creek

  Wildfire on the Skagit

  Delta Force

  Main Flight

  Target Engaged

  Heart Strike

  Angelo’s Hearth

  Where Dreams are Born

  Where Dreams Reside

  Maria’s Christmas Table

  Where Dreams Unfold

  Where Dreams Are Written

  Eagle Cove

  Return to Eagle Cove

  Recipe for Eagle Cove

  Longing for Eagle Cove

  Keepsake for Eagle Cove

  Deities Anonymous

  Coo
kbook from Hell: Reheated

  Saviors 101

  Dead Chef

  Swap Out!

  One Chef!

  Two Chef!

  SF/F Titles

  Nara

  Monk’s Maze

  The Me and Elsie Chronicles

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  www.mlbuchman.com

  Copyright 2017 Matthew Lieber Buchman

  Published by Buchman Bookworks

  All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the author.

  Cover images: Helicotpers © Tebnad

  Beautiful Athletic Couple © Photobac

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