Silver Spoon

by Cheyenne Meadows

  "Hey. Eyes up here." Her tart voice and gesture pulled him back to the discussion at hand. With a wicked grin, he complied.

  She shook her head. "Every six seconds, huh?"

  "Something like that."

  "Incorrigible." The corners of her mouth twitched.

  His phone vibrated. Plucking it from the leather holder, he automatically checked the number. "Spoon."

  "Hey buddy. Got another mission. You interested?" Night's voice carried across the line.

  "Aren't I always?"

  "We leave at dawn tomorrow. Usual meeting place. You want details now, later, or on the way?"

  Spoon glanced over at Riley who picked at her salad in an attempt to give him a modicum of privacy even though he realized she heard him easily enough. "On the way is fine."

  "Good deal. Later."

  He disconnected the call and replaced the cell phone in the carrying case. Her gaze met his. "I've got another business trip tomorrow."

  "Oh." She puffed out a breath. "How long will you be gone?"

  "I don't know yet. It normally takes a few days, sometimes more. I can promise to call when I return."

  "Where are you going?"

  Wanting to detour her questions about his upcoming assignment, he reached across the table, clasping her hand in his own. "I don't want to spend time going over boring details about tomorrow when I could be spending that same time with you."

  Her smile returned. "Thanks." She blotted her mouth with the napkin and took another sip of water. "Do we need to leave so you can go home to pack and get some sleep?"

  "No." He shook his head. "But, if you're finished, we can go look at the rest of the place, see some more fish."

  "Even a shark or two?"

  He flashed a reckless grin. "I thought clown fish feared sharks."

  She stood and moved to his side, leaning over to brush her lips across his. "This clown fish finds a certain shark intriguing, handsome, and feels quite safe in his presence."

  Her words sent a gentle wave of happiness washing over him like the ocean lapping at his body as he lay relaxed on the beach enjoying a rare holiday. Leaving enough money to pay for their meal and a tip, he took her hand and guided her to the showroom next door, his attention on the unique lady at his side.

  Chapter 7

  Spoon snaked along the damp ground on his belly, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. Despite the moonless sky and pitch black night, he wasn't dumb enough to believe the drug cartel didn't possess tools to assist with sight and location all around the property. As much money as the factory made, even the simplest minded manager would ensure top notch security devices stood ready against competitors, police, DEA, and any other individual that decided to make an unannounced visit.

  "Mark." Night's voice carried softly across his ear bud communication device, notifying him and the others that he was in the pre-planned position. As a rule, they conversed in Navajo during a mission, a language few spoke in modern times. This gave them a definite edge when infiltrating drug compounds where in most circumstances a handful of dialects could be used by the cartel and easily understood.

  Brush rustled nearby, causing him to freeze and lift his rifle to the ready, a habit from years of military training as a Green Beret. A moment later, he relaxed marginally, the night vision glasses revealing the source of the disruption.

  A huge, thick-boned dog trotted up to him without a bark or growl and commenced to sniff and snuffle him.

  "Go away," Spoon whispered to the animal.

  The beast continued with his appraisal effectively ignoring him. He tried again, this time in Spanish. "Vayase."

  Still, the dog stood there and stared down at him, making not a single aggressive move or even a warning threat.

  He couldn't let the canine inside the building or even close when the well placed explosives went off. His conscience wouldn't allow him to harm an innocent animal. "Well, shit." He snared a rope from his utility belt, tied it to the dog's collar and a nearby tree, far enough from the action to be safe, while out of sight as well.

  "Spoon. Mark." Night called to him, inquiring if he found his way to the north side of the building.

  "Not yet." He patted the dog on the head and told him to stay. "Estancia."

  "Balls to the walls, soldier." The stern command bit through the link.

  "Yes, sir." Carefully, he gained his feet once more, scurrying from cover to cover, senses on high alert for guards or nearly invisible alarms waiting to be triggered and announce their arrival.

  A spotlight flashed on then began a slow surveillance of the area.

  Spoon threw himself next to the cement wall of the compound, sucking in everything tightly as the beam traveled just in front of him.

  Not daring to breathe, he waited until the danger passed before whispering into his link, "Mark. Warning. Light."

  "Noted." Night answered before checking in with Loco.

  "Lark has contact. Go."

  Spoon quickly set wireless controlled explosives along the wall, before dashing around the side.

  Lark, the only female member of the team, a DEA agent and Army brat, managed to slip inside. Her petite frame and cheerleading past giving her the size and strength to climb into air vents and other small holes, presenting the entire team a huge edge in locating certain men, control areas, and other tactical advantages.

  Kicking in a door, he met a swarm of panicked people, all trying to exit as quickly as possible. He plastered himself to the wall, easing forward while allowing the common workers to escape. They weren't innocent, but weren't his target, either. Take out the leaders and destroy the production factory. Those were the orders.

  Moving quickly but stealthily through corridors, he soon found the control room, now empty except for a couple of dead. Lark stood across the room, furiously disconnecting lines from a laptop computer before stuffing it in her carry bag to be used as evidence and potentially provide more information about contacts that could also be taken out with one wide sweep.

  "You okay?" Each one of the team realized her abilities, her background, and training, but they had a hard time keeping their protective instincts submerged when it came to her.

  She glanced over long enough to roll her eyes at him. "I think I broke a nail." Sarcasm thickly laced her words.

  He grinned and shook his head. Regardless of her gender, Lark possessed the heart and soul of a true warrior. "Ready to go?"

  She pocketed a couple more devices before nodding.

  "Have you seen Rojas?"

  "No…"

  "Target tango down." Cale's voice carried to their ears. The dark haired retired Navy Seal seemed to always beat them to the viper's head.

  "He has all the fun." Lark snorted with an amused grin. Grabbing her weapon for easy use, she pulled the full material bag to her side.

  Swiftly, they made their way through a maze of hallways, guns at the ready for any surprise ambushes. Without incident, both stepped into the night air a couple minutes later, scurrying hastily for nearby shrubbery as camouflage. No sooner had they made their way to the safe zone than a large explosion sounded behind them. The structure's ceiling immediately collapsed, followed by the remaining walls. Fire broke out sending smoke wafting through the pre-dawn air. Lying low, they waited for several minutes ensuring no more people emerged from the fiery building to take pot shots at them. When none came, they stood and made their way to join the others.

  "What do we have here?" Loco stood beside the tethered animal. Sticking out a hand, he allowed the dog to smell him before attempting to pet the humongous head.

  "He found me earlier. Seemed friendly. I didn't want him in the middle of that mess," Spoon answered as he glided over to the only Marine in the bunch.

  Cale joined them. "Looks like a mastiff to me. A bit gaunt right now, but the rest of him looks okay."

  "We need to get moving, before sight-seers appear." Night untied the rope, leading the dog to the SUV.

  Spo
on arched his eyebrow at his boss.

  "What? We can't leave him here at the mercy of whatever comes along. What if no one comes and he starves to death?"

  Cale seconded it, "Poor thing hasn't received much care by the looks of him. He deserves better."

  "Look at those big, black, sad eyes. He needs a good home and someone to love him."

  The men grinned at the only female in the group.

  "Every now and again, she does something feminine," Loco taunted, earning a hard smack to the chest from the little blonde.

  Lark glanced toward the pinkening sky. "Let's get a move on." Opening the back door, she put up the optional third row seats with practiced ease. "If someone will put the middle row down, we can lift him in, and shoo him to the back."

  Night went about the task while Loco found a Styrofoam cup. Pouring water into the makeshift bowl, he offered it to the mastiff. The animal drank thirstily, downing a whole bottle by the time they had the vehicle ready.

  "Poor guy. He's parched." Lark rubbed the animal's head. "Okay. Let's lift him in."

  Spoon grabbed the chest while Night took the back end. Finding the wide muzzle beside his face, Spoon prayed the dog wouldn't decide to express his displeasure by sinking those teeth into the nearest human flesh. He needn't have worried. By the time they set him on his feet in the car, Spoon received no less than three wet, slobbery dog kisses.

  "He's friendly." Night smiled wide, watching Spoon wipe his sleeve over his face.

  "Damn heavy, too."

  Lark bounded in, leading the dog to the back, and, with agile precision, kept her upright stance despite Cale popping the seats back into place.

  That chore accomplished, they piled in, Loco taking the wheel, and headed for home.

  "So, who just became a new dog owner?" Lark tossed out from Spoon's right.

  Each person looked to the others.

  "Lily and I already have three spoiled cats and a German shepherd. There's no room in the small house for more."

  "Oakley has Hercules. He's a bit taller than this one. I don't think we can handle another moose in the condo." Loco looked at him through the rearview mirror before focusing on the road once more.

  Night chimed in from the passenger seat. "Summer has Murphy. Same problem as with Loco's Great Dane."

  All eyes turned to Lark. She held one hand up. "Don't look at me. Bryce and I have a rottie and a mix. I wouldn't chance another male dog with Cav."

  All eyes landed on Spoon, sitting in the middle of the second row.

  He sighed in resignation. "I'm gone all the time. How will I take care of a dog?" The poor animal needed a home, a good, stable forever home. Not a life of boarding every other week for an unknown length of time while he tromped all over the continent on assignments. No. The oversized drool monster needed someone else. He needed someone like Riley.

  "You have a girlfriend now," Loco announced to the entire group.

  "You do? When did this happen?"

  "You've been holding out on us?"

  "Spill the beans. What's she like?"

  Covering his face with one hand, Spoon pinched the bridge of his nose. He purposely tried to keep the brand new relationship a secret because of the nosey busy-bodies sitting in the car with him. Like attention seeking puppies, they would yap and yank his pant legs until he gave them what they wanted.

  "Okay. Okay. I'll take the dog and give him to Riley as a present." Plans and ideas raced through his head. Who knew what shots the dog had and a brief glimpse earlier as they hefted him in the back of the SUV revealed he remained intact, thus needed a minor surgery as well. "I guess I need to line up a vet first."

  Loco held up his phone. "Already on it. Oakley said Hercules' vet is wonderful. She'll call him as soon as the office opens and explain the situation. With any luck, we can take him there as soon as we get home."

  "I'm sure that will cost an arm and a leg." Cale took a deep swallow from his bottled water.

  Spoon shrugged. "I think I can afford it. If not"—he looked around the vehicle—"I expect each and every one of you to chip in. This was your idea after all."

  They all dug through pockets and duffel bags, shoving handfuls of money at him.

  He just couldn't get anything past them today. "Keep it. I think I can cover it." The gesture put a smile on his face. In all honesty, the team resembled more a band of brothers and a sister than simple co-workers.

  Another hour passed with the team chitchatting, harassing Spoon for more details on his budding relationship, and calls to home before they heard back about the vet visit.

  "We're in luck." Loco poked the end button and lowered his cell phone. "Oakley said the vet will take the dog, just drop him off at the office. They will do the surgery, a full workup, bathe him, vaccinate him, and even tie a big red bow around his neck when you pick him up."

  "That's perfect," Lark commented from the second row as she glanced behind her at the sleeping dog. "Trust me. A bow always seals the deal."

  He sure hoped she was right.

  Riley had briefly mentioned the loss of her old cat a while back and never again had the topic of pets come up again. He knew she would love the gigantic canine presently occupying the entire rear of the vehicle. That wasn't an issue. Her landlord could be. If so, they would have to figure something out and quick, for he wasn't about to look into those dark, sad eyes of the animal and walk away.

  Chapter 8

  "Come on. Let's go." Oakley, complete with purse slung over her shoulder, met them at the door.

  "We just got home." They'd made a quick pit stop by the vet's office, dropped off the mastiff, filled out paperwork, then headed directly to Loco's residence in hopes of catching some sleep after a long, tiring assignment.

  Her green eyes flashed at Loco. "Yeah, I know. I figure I have about two hours to take you guys shopping for dog supplies before you wear down and want to crash. So, let's get a move on."

  Spoon and Loco shared a look, neither one bothering to argue. Instead, they trailed along, hopping into Loco's black SUV.

  Oakley hit the nail on the head with Spoon's fatigue level. He remained wired up after a mission for a few hours, even after a long drive. Normally, he went to the gym, or plopped down to play video games until the adrenaline left his body, allowing him to finally sleep.

  "I figure we need dog food and another leash and collar. What else?" he tossed out from the backseat, grinning at the two lovebirds holding hands in the front.

  She twisted to look at him while waving a piece of paper. "All kinds of things. He needs a bed, toys, puppy pads for housetraining, treats, nail clippers, brushes…"

  He blinked in amazement at the long rambling list. "Are you sure that's for a dog and not a newborn baby?"

  They both chuckled at him. "Yeah, I was shocked too," Loco admitted as he clicked the blinker on for a turn.

  "It seems like a lot, but they're all necessary items. Besides, from what little you've told us about Riley—" she frowned at him—"she probably can't afford everything she needs on her limited budget."

  "Good point." He nodded, having forgotten that Riley, for all intents and purposes, lived off the income from working at the gym. Her writing brought in extra, but not enough yet to boost her into a higher tax bracket.

  A few minutes later they entered the huge store dedicated to pets of all varieties, a warehouse full of every toy, food, and knick-knack a person could want for their animal. The sheer number of items and endless variety amazed him.

  Like a typical woman focused on a shopping spree, Oakley led them around the large pet supply store, picking up items and placing them in the overflowing cart as they meandered down aisle after aisle. With a basket crammed full of stuff for one oversized canine the size of a pony, they finally entered the checkout line.

  Spoon flinched at the sum of the purchases, but handed over the payment without a single complaint. After all, he fully expected the vet bill to exceed the amount by at least double. In all honesty, he
could spare the money without feeling a budget crunch. Besides, he did it for the welfare of a friendly dog and the happiness of a woman he cared for. He could and would shell out much more for such worthy causes.

  Loading up the vehicle, Loco drove them back to the duplex he and Oakley shared, where they transferred everything into Spoon's truck in order for him to arrive at Riley's apartment the following day with her new pet and everything she would need in order to care for him.

  By the time Spoon arrived home, his energy levels ran near empty. He jumped in the shower, got cleaned up, then called Riley. When he learned she was off work the next day and intended to stay home and write, he promised to drop by, but kept the dog a surprise. Exhausted, he ended the call, crawled into bed, promptly falling asleep.

  Chapter 9

  Sure enough, the vet bill came in just under his estimate. A large chunk of change to get one huge tan mutt with a black mask and feet the size of horse hooves in shape to be a lifelong companion to his girlfriend. Yet, when the beast greeted him with a wagging tail and a slobbery kiss, he forgot about the tidy sum invested in the animal. He did the right thing in rescuing him from the drug factory, granting him a chance at a life of leisure with a woman who would spoil him rotten with love.

  Girlfriend. The word struck him as odd. He hadn't bothered to try to classify Riley before and somehow the common label didn't quite fit. Friend, sure. Girl, definitely. Girlfriend, though, fell short of his feelings for the little redheaded author.

  Before he could debate it too deeply, he arrived in the parking lot of Riley's apartment building. Finding a space, he parked before wrangling a dog that nearly outweighed him out of the backseat and onto the ground. The bright red bow, which Lark insisted the vet apply, hung around the big guy's neck, wrinkled and squashed from a one hundred and seventy-five pound mastiff laying on it. One dangling leg of the bow sported a darker hue, wet from drool.

  "I don't think that ribbon will make the deal sealing impression Lark promised." Spoon couldn't help but grin at the curious tilt of the dog's head. The black-eyed beast with the huge build and structure wouldn't present as perfectly as he'd imagined. Yet, the more he thought about it, the ragged appearance fit them both. A bit beat up and worse of wear from living in the danger zone, yet they cleaned up fairly well. While no champion show poodle, the mastiff held his own in looks, personality, and sheer charisma.