Sloan couldn’t help but laugh at Trisha’s sarcastic tone. It hadn’t taken Sloan long after starting work at the clinic to realize that their receptionist was going to be out the door the minute the doctors had all left no matter whether it was her quitting time or not.
“What about you?” Sloan asked. “Are you about ready to leave?”
Trisha nodded. “I’m beat. This has been the busiest day we’ve had in weeks. I hope my husband has supper ready because I’m not cooking tonight. All I want to do is soak in a hot tub and get in bed.”
Sloan rubbed her hand over her tired eyes and nodded. “I hear you. That sounds like a plan.”
Trisha rose from the desk chair and started to switch off the computer, but she glanced back up at Sloan. “Do you need to do some work before you leave?”
Sloan nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got a few records I need to update before I leave. So just leave it on.”
A slight frown pulled at Trisha’s eyebrows. “You’ve been staying after hours a lot lately. You’ve been here for six months now, and I know you haven’t been out and met anybody yet. Just say the word, and I can remedy that.”
Sloan rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t start again about fixing me up with your husband’s brother. I’m not interested in dating anyone. Besides I’ll be moving on to my next assignment in a few weeks, so there’s no need to start a friendship that’s not going anywhere.”
Trisha tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips. “You’re such a good nurse,” she said. “Don’t you ever get tired of working for a company that sends you all over the country to do short-term leaves for nurses? I’d think after a while you’d want to settle down in one place.”
Sloan shook her head. “My father was always changing jobs when I was growing up, so I’m used to moving around. I doubt if I’ll ever be able to put roots down anywhere.”
Trisha stared at her a moment as if she was going to argue the point, but then she shrugged. “I guess you know what’s best for you. If you change your mind about meeting my brother-in-law let me know.”
“I will,” Sloan said as she sat down in the chair Trisha had just vacated and began to log in.
Trisha turned and walked to the break room off the station area where Sloan heard the sound of her locker opening. A few minutes later she returned, her purse hanging on her shoulder, and stopped beside Sloan. “It’s my turn to bring coffee in the morning. One sugar and two creams, right?”
Sloan nodded. “That’s it,” she said as she scrolled through Gabriella Mendoza’s record. After a moment she realized that Trisha hadn’t left but was still standing beside her with a sober expression on her face. “What’s wrong?” Sloan asked as she glanced up.
“We really do work well together, Sloan. I’m going to miss you when you leave for your next assignment. I wish you’d take that permanent job they offered you and stay on here.”
Sloan’s stomach churned, and she swallowed before she swiveled around in the chair to face Trisha. Her gaze raked her friend’s face. As much as she wished she could explain the reasons to Trisha why she chose to stay in a job that kept her on the move, but that wasn’t an option. Her recruiter was the only one who knew where she was at any time, and that information was confidential. She intended to keep it that way, too.
She leaned back in her chair and smiled at Trisha. “I’ve really enjoyed it here, but I can’t stay.”
Trisha tilted her head to one side and stared at her. “What about a life outside of work? Don’t you ever want to get married?”
This was the question she always dreaded when the time drew near for her to leave an assignment. She’d developed a standard answer long ago, and she recited it as if by memory. “Some people aren’t meant to be married. I like my life the way it is, and I don’t need somebody else to complicate it.”
Trisha frowned and shook her head as she didn’t believe her. “Well, I hope you’ll stay in touch with me after you leave.”
Sloan wanted to assure Trisha that they could talk on the phone and text or email from time to time, but she knew that wouldn’t be the truth. When she left, her ties here would be broken, and the people she’d come to know wouldn’t hear from her again.
Instead of saying what she was thinking she just smiled and turned back to the computer. “I don’t know why we’re talking about this now. I haven’t gone anywhere yet.”
“You’re right.” Trisha glanced down at her watch and gasped. “Oh, I need to get going. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said as she turned toward the exit at the back of the clinic. “You go on home, too. You shouldn’t be alone here. Not in this neighborhood.”
“I’ll leave in a few minutes,” Sloan called after her. “Carlos and Miguel will be here soon to clean. I want to be out of their way when they get here. Lock the back door on your way out, will you?”
“Sure,” Trisha said as she headed down the hall toward the rear exit. When Sloan heard the door close, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. It had been a long day. She was tired, but the conversation with Trisha had upset her more than she’d let on. Every time her personal life was mentioned she felt a moment of panic.
She leaned over, crossed her arms on the desk, and laid her head on top of them. Five years ago she’d cried so much that she thought she had no more tears to shed, and yet from time to time she found herself spiraling back into the dark place where she’d once been. It happened every time she began to get comfortable in a place, like she was here in Dallas. That was a signal that it was time to leave. Time to start over again.
After a moment she sat up, wiped at her eyes, and stared at the computer monitor. As if by their own will, her fingers moved to the keyboard and began to type into the search engine. A voice in her head yelled at her not to be stupid. No good would come of looking, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to see.
The website popped up on the screen, and she sucked in her breath. There it was in big, bold letters.
THE FIREBRAND TRAINING CENTER
A State of the Art Training Facility for Military and Law Enforcement
A 5,000 Acre Compound Located in the Mountains of North Carolina
For a moment she let her thoughts drift back to the time when Firebrand had been the dream of Reese Alexander, Ash DeHan, and Colt Hanson. Ex-military brothers in arms with a crossed sword and torch tattooed on their right biceps, they had wanted to do something special for their country, and they’d accomplished it by becoming highly-skilled secret operatives for the CIA.
She still shuddered at the missions they’d carried out— recovering hostages and kidnapped victims, searching out and destroying terrorist groups, and penetrating enemy territory to perform surprise attacks. All done off the grid and unofficially authorized by the government. They’d thrived on the adventure and the danger, but the women in their lives had suffered because of it. She should know. She’d been one of them.
Since then they’d left their dangerous lifestyle behind and opened this facility to pass on the things they’d learned to military, government, and law enforcement agencies. From the looks of the site the venture had been very successful.
She pulled her thoughts back to the website and tried to concentrate on what she was seeing, although she didn’t really need to. She practically had it memorized. Each time she pulled it up she told herself she was only opening old wounds, but she couldn’t help herself. She was drawn to it by some force she couldn’t control. Once again she read about the facilities, the tactical and weapons training offered, security management instruction, as well as close quarter and sniper training.
Her heart lurched. There it was. Sniper training. She’d known this was what she wanted to see. Not the website itself, but the information about marksmanship instructor Colt Hanson, the man who had been one of the most decorated snipers in the military, the illusive Gray Feather as he had come to be called on his top-secret missions for the CIA.
Colt Hanson, the man she’d
met and married in Africa, the man she’d loved with all her heart, and the man whose assassination of Ahmed Ohakim had ruined everything between them. She should have known better than to think she could live in Colt’s world. With the brothers of Firebrand, the mission, not family, always came first.
She stared at the computer screen a few minutes more, and then with a shake of her head returned to Gabriella Mendoza’s file. She had just finished updating the records when she heard the back door open and footsteps in the hallway.
Sloan glanced at her watch and frowned. She hadn’t expected the cleaning crew this early. “Miguel,” she called out, “is that you?”
There was no answer.
The footsteps quieted, and she strained to hear another sound. Nothing but silence. A chill ran up her spine, and she eased up out of the chair. “Carlos?”
“Miguel and Carlos could not make it tonight,” someone said, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. There was something familiar about the clipped, precise tone of the man’s voice. She’d heard it somewhere before.
She took a step toward the door to investigate, but before she reached it, a tall figure emerged from the hallway shadows and loomed over her. She stumbled backwards, shaking her head. No, it couldn’t be. What was he doing here? Was this a hallucination or had she conjured him and his demons up from the shadowy realm of perdition where they existed?
She stared up into the cruel eyes she’d encountered five years ago in Africa, and her knees went weak. This was no dream. He was real and so was the dark figure standing behind him. Shaking her head, she inched backwards until her legs pressed against the desk. She struggled to find her voice. “N-no, it can’t be,” she rasped.
Targeted
Copyright 2016 by Sandra Robbins
Table of Contents
Acknowledgement
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Letter to Readers
About the Author
Other Books by Sandra Robbins
Hunted
Prologue
Chapter 1
Targeted (Firebrand Book 1) Page 25