Taking Fire

by Lindsay McKenna

  “I don’t think any Shinwari villages are going to give her up,” Mac said, “but that red braid of hers… She’s going to have to hide it or cut most of her hair off.”

  Grimacing, Mike nodded. Khat had such beautiful, thick hair. “She won’t like this.”

  “No, but what’s the alternative? She wears that red braid where everyone can see it, and she might as well be wearing a sign that says Shoot Me.”

  “I assume you’re going to talk to her about all this?” Mike did not want Khat to know of his involvement.

  “Yeah, it’s mine to handle, no problem.”

  “Good luck on getting her to cut off her hair.” He grinned a little. Mike imagined she’d dig her heels in and refuse. He couldn’t blame her. Her long hair was her only nod to her femininity while she worked in a man’s world of black ops.

  “I’m not a betting man,” Mac mumbled, finishing reading the patrol. “This looks good. Well thought out. Get to that local, nearby village before she arrives here at Bravo.”

  “Mind if I take Travis with me? He’s got an eye for horseflesh, too.”

  Mac snorted. “You couldn’t stop him from coming along with you.”

  Chuckling, Mike stood and picked up his computer. “I want a rifle and eyes watching my back while I try to find a horse.”

  Grinning, Mac said, “Send your workup to the printer. I’ll add a few notes and pass it up to the officers to sign off on.”

  As Mike walked back to the desk in the big room, he could barely hold in his excitement over seeing Khat again. He was grateful to the chief, who, as a SEAL, made it his mission in life to think outside the box. He certainly had on this one. Best of all, he’d be with Khat, protecting her. That made Mike feel better. She needed a partner. And after she arrived at Bravo and he got Khat alone, he was going to kiss the hell out of her.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  KHAT COULD BARELY keep her expression neutral as she approached the security gate that led to Camp Bravo at 0200. On the other side of the fence, laced with concertina wire on top of it, she could see Mike waiting for her. Her heart was in chaos. The moon was full, and she didn’t need her NVG goggles to see his deeply shadowed face twenty feet away.

  The marine guard came forward, and she handed him her identification. Once the marine nodded, she dismounted from weary Zorah.

  The gate rolled open and she pulled the reins over her Arabian’s hanging head and trudged forward up the slightly angled slope. Mike’s glittering gaze never left hers. He was dressed in his SEAL gear, only a pistol at his side. There couldn’t be any sign of affection between them and as she walked up to him, she didn’t avoid his gaze. She tried to prepare herself for his anger, but she saw none in his expression.

  “Let me take your horse,” Mike coaxed softly, taking the reins from her gloved fingers.

  Nodding, Khat felt the brush of his calloused fingers against her own. Heat tunneled through her. Her pulse skyrocketed. Mike fell in step with her. They didn’t talk for fear of being overheard and instead, moved in the direction of the SEAL compound and the barn with the paddock behind it. Was he angry with her? He didn’t look it, but he had his game face on, which meant she couldn’t know what was going on emotionally with Mike.

  Once they left the security area, she looked over at him. He felt somber to her, but her normal ability to sense things was partially gone because of the exhausting two-day ride. “How are you?” she asked in a low tone. When they turned down an avenue without tents on either side, she reached out and briefly touched his lower arm. She saw him react. His mouth softened.

  “I’m okay,” Mike answered, glancing to his left, studying her. “How about you?”

  “Usual,” Khat said quietly. “The Taliban is grouping near Bravo. I had to dodge a lot of patrols. I need to tell Chief McCutcheon tomorrow morning. I know you have drones, and he might already know about it, but if he doesn’t, someone should be made aware. It smells like a buildup to me, Mike.” She rubbed her gritty brow. “It doesn’t feel good to me.”

  “Mac knows about it. He wants to see you tomorrow morning after you wake up, though,” he told her. He led the horse around the single-story cinder-block building and halted in front of the small barn. “I’ll open the door for you.”

  Taking the reins, Khat waited. It felt good to be on the ground and not riding. She was stiff and sore from the journey. Her heart squeezed with trepidation as she watched Mike open the barn door for her and the horse. Feeling scared that he was angry with her, although he didn’t look that way nor had his voice indicated it, Khat led her horse into the barn. She automatically took off the bridle and attached the cross ties to the mare’s halter. The door quietly closed, and the low lights snapped on.

  Mike turned, getting his first good look at Khat in three weeks. She had pulled off her black hood, and it fell around her shoulders, revealing her mussed red hair bound in a single, long braid down her back. He took the bridle from her hand and placed it on a hook on the wall.

  “Come here,” he growled, sliding his arm around her waist. If she was going to push him away, it would happen now.

  A soft gasp of surprise tore from Khat, his movement swift and sure. Mike hauled her into his arms, his eyes narrowed and gleaming. As his hand cupped the back of her head, the other low on her back, he tipped Khat’s head, leaving her mouth available to him.

  Breath catching, her heart leaped with joy as he leaned down, his mouth moving powerfully against her lips. A moan tore out of her, and she threw her arms around his shoulders, meeting and matching the fervor of his welcoming kiss. Lashes sweeping downward, Khat strained to be as close as she could against his hard, masculine body. An ache grew in her heart as she matched his hunger for her. His breath was moist, punctuated against her cheek. Her chest tightened with unshed tears, with unraveling emotions she’d stuffed deep within her since leaving Mike. He held her gently in his arms, but his mouth let her know he hadn’t stopped loving her for one second. Guilt flooded her, and tears came.

  Khat tasted the salt of them as their lips melded against one another. Her heart was wild with need of his touch, his smell, his beard rasping against her sensitive skin. The heat of her tears continued, and she couldn’t stop them.

  Mike eased from her mouth, brought Khat upright, holding her in his arms. Their breathing was chaotic. Her lips were parted, wet with her tears. Her eyes…oh, God, her eyes were distressed, and he saw the anguish in them. He framed her face, using his thumbs across her cheeks to remove the tears. “Why are you crying, Angel?” he asked huskily, holding her gaze.

  Khat felt her whole world cracking and falling into shambles around her feet as she stood against him. “I’m sorry,” she managed, moving her hands across his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Mike. I—I didn’t think you’d forgive me for leaving you like I did.” She closed her eyes, feeling as if her heart were being crushed in her chest. “I thought you would try to stop me from leaving. I didn’t want to do it that way, but I had no choice.”

  When Khat lifted her lashes, Mike growled and leaned down, taking her trembling mouth, tasting the salt of her tears. “Angel, if you love someone,” he whispered against her mouth, “it doesn’t get destroyed that easily. I would not have stopped you from leaving. Okay? All you had to do was find me, sit me down and we’d discuss it like adults. Next time? Give me a chance.”

  Sniffing, Khat pulled out of his grasp, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. He shifted his hands to her shoulders and she saw the warmth burning in his eyes. “You’re right. I handled it very badly. I—I didn’t trust you, and I should have.” Khat gave him a look of abject apology.

  He smiled a little; his voice was low with emotion. “I’m just glad to see you again. Relationships are built a day at a time, Angel. We just have to keep talking to one another. We’ll work up and over these hurdles together. All right?” Mike saw instant relief in her expression, her cheeks damp, her eyes showing her raw vulnerability. He could feel
how stressed Khat was, and he had no intention of making her feel guilty about her decision. “Come on,” he rasped, “let’s get your mare put away for the night. Why don’t you go over and say hello to Mina while I get Zorah unsaddled?”

  She nodded, a lump in her throat. Everything seemed so natural between them, as if she hadn’t walked out of his life three weeks ago. Khat opened Mina’s box stall, calling softly to her mare.

  Mina nickered and walked up to her, nuzzling into her opened hands. She heard Mike speaking softly to Zorah as he unsaddled her. Everything seemed so right. An ache built in her heart as she turned and watched him quickly brush her horse down, the care he took and his gentleness toward the mare. He was that way with her, too.

  Feeling adrift, guilt savaging her for walking out of his life without any kind of an explanation except for a letter, Khat leaned her head against Mina’s sleek neck. What was she doing? Torn between wanting Mike, wanting the life he offered her and her duty to her people, she trembled inwardly, miserable. Patting her mare, she rubbed Mina’s small, delicate ears, the mare’s eyes closing with pleasure.

  “Come on,” Mike called from the entrance to Mina’s stall. “Want a shower?”

  She hugged Mina, kissed her on the neck and then turned. “I’d love a hot shower. All I was thinking about the past twenty miles tonight was seeing you again.” Khat stepped out of the stall, and Mike slid the door closed. Holding out her hands, they were dirty and felt gritty. The sand was so fine in Afghanistan, it got into every crevice and crack of a person’s body.

  Mike nodded. “As soon as Mac told me you were coming in, I couldn’t sleep. Let’s go,” he murmured, shutting off the light and opening the door.

  Outside, Khat waited for him. “You don’t have to walk me over to the showers. I know where they are.”

  “I want to escort you over there. Let’s go to your room first. I got everything you need in there to take over to the shower,” he said, his hand against her back, guiding her around the building.

  Mike wasn’t angry with her, and he wasn’t going to leave her. A little more of Khat’s fear melted. Just his voice calmed her. It always had.

  He reached the door to the HQ first and opened it for her. “I’ll wait for you out here. The door to your room is open,” he told her quietly.

  Tiredness combined with emotional distress weighed on Khat’s shoulders as she stepped into the quiet, dark HQ. The moonlight was enough for her to see the door to her room, and she quickly gathered up all the items, including the blue terry-cloth bathrobe that was three sizes too big for her. Khat smiled, grateful for Mike’s thoughtfulness.

  She met him outside, and they walked to the showers without speaking. Khat slipped inside while he waited. The sense of protection was strong around him tonight, and she could see it in his dark eyes, feel it radiating powerfully around him and invisibly embracing her.

  Mike waited patiently outside, leaning against the wall near the shower entrance, always alert and watching.

  It was quiet at this time of morning. Cold, the wind blowing off and on, near freezing, and the black velvet sky above held glittering, diamond-like stars so close it was breathtaking. Whether it was because Bravo sat at eight thousand feet in the Hindu Kush mountains or the lack of air pollution, Mike always found the stars amazingly beautiful.

  His thoughts swung back to Khat. She looked absolutely wary upon seeing him. But her kiss told him she loved him, wanted him. There was nothing shy about her passion for him. That she was anticipating he would be angry and upset with her bothered him. Was it her father who had taught her to be wary of a man if she made a mistake? That she would be punished with anger? Disinherited? She’d acted that way with him just now.

  Rubbing his beard, Mike didn’t know. But he was going to find out sooner or later. They had a lot of talk, exploring and discovering of one another to do yet.

  As he stood there in the silence, his heart seethed with love and concern for Khat. She was vulnerable tonight, more so than usual. What had gone on with her those three weeks when she left Bravo and was alone once more in her mountains? He saw the fierce love for him burning in her eyes. Relief of another kind trickled through him. Their love was intact, despite the setback. Mike felt a keen gratefulness for Khat being able to transcend her duty and continue to reach out to him. It gave him hope. And God, he needed that sign from Khat.

  He wiped his hand across his face, his gut in knots. He felt as if he were walking on the blade of a sword with Khat. One wrong move…

  He wished he could make love to her, but it would be impossible. There was no place to go, so he’d have to be content to kiss her at moments when he could steal the opportunity. He’d seen the fire in Khat’s eyes after their first kiss, the arousal.

  Mike dragged in a deep breath, releasing it, white vapor created by the freezing temperature. Tomorrow was going to be a bitch of a day, and he knew it. What would Khat do? How would she react to Mac’s mission plan? Would she willingly go along with him being her partner when going back to her operation area? How would Khat react? Damn, life got fucking complicated sometimes, and Mike tiredly rubbed his smarting eyes, feeling like a marathon runner in the twenty-eighth mile of a twenty-nine-mile race.

  Khat appeared at the entrance, her feet in the shower clogs, bundled up in the blue terry-cloth robe, her hair twisted up in a white towel on top of her head. Mike eased away from the building, took her clothes and toiletry items from her arms. She walked closely at his side.

  “What time do I have to see the chief?” she asked.

  “Sleep in,” he told her gruffly. “He’s okay with whatever time you can meet with him. I’m going to be out in the big room all morning working on a mission plan. Why don’t you come and get me after you wake up and then we’ll get breakfast at the chow hall? I’ll feed and water your horses tomorrow morning, so don’t worry about that. Then you can go see Mac.”

  Licking her lower lip, Khat hugged the thick robe around her body, the wind sharp at times. “Thank you, Mike…” She glanced over at his darkened profile. His brow was creased, and his mouth was set. She felt a fine tension in him but was unable to interpret it.

  Mike opened the door to the HQ for her. There was no way he was going to kiss her good-night. Not here. If Mac ever saw it or heard about it, all hell would break loose. Mike knew the chief understood there was a relationship between them. But it remained unsaid that he was to conduct himself accordingly. And HQ was off-limits. This was the chief’s house.

  Khat took the dirty clothes from his arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then?” How desperately she wanted to kiss Mike, but she saw him step back. And he wanted to kiss her. Wrong time and place.

  “Yes,” he rasped. “Tomorrow morning.”

  *

  “HOW IS SERGEANT SHINWARI?” Mac asked Mike the next morning when he walked into his office with a bunch of papers beneath his arm.

  Mike shut the door and stood, coffee cup in hand. “She’s tired, which is understandable,” he said. “And she noted that there’s a buildup of Taliban in our area. She had to dodge more patrols than usual. I know you briefed us the other day on that buildup.”

  “I got word from the CIA a little while ago. Looks like more Taliban movements than normal around our base. They’re watching it. I’m going to have an Apache helicopter roll out and make a circuit around the base using thermal imaging and then have the video sent back to us. They’re probably massing for another attack on the base. That would be everyone’s guess.”

  “Not a good sign,” Mike agreed, scowling as he sipped his coffee. Bravo took sporadic RPG and mortar fire two to three times a year. It looked like it was going to be one of those times shortly.

  “So, how is Sergeant Shinwari otherwise?”

  “It looks like she’s gained some weight back,” Mike said. “Her cheeks don’t look so hollow.”

  “That’s a good sign,” Mac growled. “Maybe with enough people bitching about how thin she was, she g
ot it.”

  Mike smiled a little. “She’s hardheaded,” he agreed.

  “Otherwise?”

  “She looks more tired than the last time she was here.” He could see the fine veins beneath Khat’s eyes, the purplish shadows telling him she wasn’t sleeping well. “Maybe because she was under a lot of stress dodging those Taliban patrols.”

  Mac shrugged. “I’m just trying to get her pulse. After you bring her back from morning chow, I’m going to have to lay out this mission we’ve created. It would be nice if I knew beforehand where she is.”

  “Yeah,” Mike muttered, “whether she’s going to be all for it or see us taking over her territory and feeling threatened, is up in the air.” Either could happen.

  “Take her pulse at chow,” Mac said. “Let me know what you think, and then I’ll call her in later.” Frowning, he said, “It’s vital she doesn’t know you had anything to do with this plan, Tarik. I don’t care if you have to lie to her, you do it. And I did tell her she now has a price on her head.”

  Mike nodded, not liking the idea of lying to Khat. He never had before. “Maybe she won’t put two and two together and ask me about it.”

  Snorting, the chief gave him a wry look. “In your dreams. She’s not stupid. We made that mistake last time, and I’ve learned from it. I hope you have, too.”

  *

  MIKE WATCHED KHAT eat as if starved. At least she had an appetite, and that made him feel good. She had awakened at 0900 and by the time they’d walked over to the chow hall, it was fairly empty. He was glad it wasn’t noisy, and he could hear himself think. He sat with his back to the wall opposite her, finishing up six pancakes and a half a pound of bacon.

  “You look like you’ve gained back some weight.”

  Khat finished off her six eggs, sopping up the yolk with her toast. “Well,” she said, smiling a little, “after everyone was telling me I looked like a scarecrow, I decided to try and eat more.” She drowned in his lion-gold eyes that were warm with love for her. “I think I’ve put on ten pounds in the past three weeks.” She patted her tummy. “I hate MREs, but I’m eating more.”