Falcon: The Quiet Professionals Book 3

by Ronie Kendig

  “Why? Why can’t you tell me who he was?”

  Cassie tried to breathe, but his anger— “Will you ever listen to me again? Will you ever give me the benefit of the doubt, enough to hear me out?”

  His dark eyes probed her. Searched her very soul. A piece of the jagged cliffs of his resentment broke away. “Probably not.”

  The well-placed dagger of his words seared straight through her. What she’d expected, she didn’t know, but it wasn’t that. “Sal—”

  “No.” His voice went dark. “Don’t go there. Leave it alone.”

  “How can I when it’s getting in the way of us doing our jobs?”

  “I don’t need you here to do my job. Leave. Let me get on with finishing this.”

  “I have information you might want.”

  Sal’s jaw muscle jounced.

  “I was at Takkar Towers because of Kiew Tang.”

  Though he’d tried to keep that rocklike expression in place, he slipped. “The woman who hit Hawk in the mountains?”

  Cassie gave a slight nod. “It’s my firm belief that she is not completely complicit with Daniel Jin’s operations.”

  “Holding a gun to Hawk’s head makes it 100 percent complicit in my book.”

  She couldn’t argue that, though she wanted to defend her friend. “I can’t explain fully what’s going on, but I think he’s got something over her. I believe he’s beating her. That she’s not acting on her own cognizance.”

  His cheek twitched again but he didn’t speak. “How do you know?”

  “I met her when I was in high school. Exchange program—I lived with her family.”

  Sal scowled. “You lived with her? That makes me question everything you say—how am I to know you’re not compromised? And you weren’t in the shadows with Jin’s lover. You were in the shadows with a man. Who was he? Your lover?”

  Slice and dice, straight through her heart. Mean words spoken with such anger often meant the person was invested. The subject mattered. The thought hooked a line of hope through Cassie’s chest. “I have been with no man since you, Tore.”

  Her words hit center mass. He flinched and drew up, his expression shifting from anger to surprise and back like colliding ice shelves. And in the seconds between his flickering emotions—ones she saw as plain as writing on paper, though someone not as intimately versed on this fierce warrior wouldn’t see it—Cassie stepped into the sliver of an opening in his cracked armor.

  “Sal, I was a stupid, self-absorbed girl who was madly in love with you. My actions were egregious. I was desperate and didn’t want to lose you, so I—”

  “Sent Vida to her death.”

  Cassie felt her chin trembling and fought to stop it. “I…” She wanted to make an excuse. Wanted to say she didn’t really think anything would happen to Vida. But back then, she couldn’t see beyond her blind rage and desperation to get Sal back. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t beg God to forgive me.”

  “So you did want her to die?” He was searching, digging, a strange pleading expression in his face, as if he didn’t want it to be true.

  “I wanted you back. That’s all I could see, all I could think.”

  “Even though I hated and blamed you for killing her, there was a part of me that kept saying you didn’t mean to kill her.” His brow knotted. “But you did.” His face twisted with grief. “You PCSed her, got her sent to Helmand to be sure she’d die.”

  “No! I moved her away, yes. But not to have her killed. You threw me aside like a rag when she entered that base. If you—”

  Hands up, Sal backed away from her.

  “Sal—I was twenty-one and—” She gulped the next word, terrified it’d come out.

  “I thought I knew you, Cass. I thought I knew…” He shook his head.

  Anguish churned through her, drowning in this guilt. Drowning in his loathing. She fought back. Felt the rage welling up. “And what about you, Sal? Were you so great? Cheating on her all those months? Sleeping with me while calling home each weekend?” Tears broke through.

  “At least I did what was right in the end. I fixed my mistake.”

  “Mistake?” Her voice shrieked. Cassie couldn’t see for the tears. “Is that what I was? What our—?”

  “Walker. Falcon.”

  Sal turned toward the voice.

  Cassie swiped the tears, turning away.

  “Inside. All hands.” It sounded like Captain Watters.

  A shudder ripped through her as she heard boots thud and a door click shut. She covered her mouth, fighting back more tears. More grief that she’d almost let the horrible truth out of the bag. I almost told him about Mila. But she hadn’t. That was good. If he couldn’t talk to her civilly, he didn’t deserve to know about her. He wouldn’t infiltrate their lives and be a constant sore.

  You have to tell him eventually.

  Did she? Why?

  Cassie couldn’t think about this. The Army was embroiled in a bitter battle with a powerful enemy. She swiped the tears away and drew in a long, clean breath. Then spun around to head inside.

  Icy dread spiraled through her veins as her gaze met Sal’s. He hadn’t left. That meant…

  “Why did you name your sister’s daughter Mila?”

  Misery wrapped its cruel talons around Cassie’s heart. A lie sat poised on her tongue, ready to lodge in the wall he’d erected between them. But she was tired of fighting. She felt a spurt of her own anger. She didn’t have to answer. She didn’t have to respond, not after the way he’d treated her, tossed her aside, and then acted as if she alone bore guilt in Vida’s death.

  But she couldn’t take any more of this bone-draining fighting. “Because she’s not her daughter.” Breath shuddered through her again. “She’s mine.”

  Sal frowned. Stepped closer, his breath hot against her cheek as he traced her face. Searching for the answer, no doubt. The answer to the question she could almost hear screaming through his brain. “Why did you give her that name? That was—”

  “Our name,” Cassie said, daring him to take her meaning. It wasn’t like they’d talked about having kids, but they both agreed during some silly conversation after meeting someone with an awful name they’d never do that. Somehow, they found common ground, which was easy back then, with the name Mila. He’d even given her a teddy bear and said her name was Mila.

  His anger washed away. Confusion replaced it. Thick and vigorous. Questions danced in his eyes.

  “When you cut me off, I had no way to contact you. How was I supposed to tell you, Tore?”

  His gaze penetrated the only defense she had left. “What… what are you saying?”

  “I tried to tell you…” Hot tears streaked down her cheek. “You made me the one thing I vowed I’d never be. The one thing I fought against being.”

  “Andra…” He breathed her name, conflict evident in his rugged Italian-Latino features. He shouldered in closer.

  “A single mother.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan

  2 April—0920 Hours

  The earth shifted beneath his feet, her words ringing hollowly in his ears. Sal stumbled back, disbelieving. Unable to grab on to those words. How…? Nausea churned through his gut. He’d rather sit in a gas chamber than feel what he felt right now. Than be hit with the sickening truth.

  “You were pregnant?”

  Cassie swallowed and looked away.

  Limbs leaden, Sal couldn’t move. “With my baby.” The truth coalesced in his mind. Became something of substance he had to get his head around. “Mila.” He turned away. “And you never told me.”

  “You wouldn’t let me tell you.”

  Sal spun back to her. “Wouldn’t—”

  She held up her hand, nodding. “I should’ve found a way. But you devastated me. I was wrong, Sal. I kept her from you and for a time, I took pleasure in the fact you’d never know how amazing she was—so bright and funny. Such a character. For the first co
uple of years, I saw her as something you’d never have, a way to punish you for what you did to me.” Cassie shook her head. “But over time, the guilt ate at me. I sought counseling and through years of mentorship, I learned to forgive myself. And you. And to surrender what I did to Vida. And to you.”

  “You had my baby and never told me.” It sounded stupid to repeat those words, but it was too unreal. Too unbelievable. “Mila’s… she’s my”—the word was foreign, wrong, weird—“daughter.”

  Cassie stood still, sagging.

  “Crap, Andra.” Sal threaded his fingers and hooked them over his head. “I can’t believe you kept this—my own child!—from me. What were you thinking? How could you do something like this? First you kill Vida—”

  “Hey. That’s not fair or accurate.”

  “—then you withhold my own flesh and blood from me.” A daughter? How was that possible?

  “Don’t do this, Sal. You left me and never looked back. I may bear blame for concealing Mila from you, but you threw me out with the trash when Vida showed up at the base. You didn’t care what happened to me nor did you ask. I tried to contact you, but you severed all communication. You even had your mother tell me to stop calling.” She lifted her chin. “So, I did. And I made the best life I could with Mila.”

  He should be angry. And there was some distant part of himself that was, but Cassie was right. He was so afraid his feelings for her would resurface that he’d gone as far as to get a new phone, block her number at home, and ask his mom to tell her to bug off.

  It was his fault.

  Just like Vida. He’d betrayed her by dating Cassie. Broke his promise to her. He cursed again. Not because he was mad but because he didn’t know what else to do. Or say. “This is messed up.” His entire life was messed up.

  “She’s a lot like you.”

  He considered her, a strange warmth spilling through his chest. A heady sensation in his mind. “She’s… three?”

  Cassie’s face went soft as she nodded. “Quite bossy.”

  “It’s confidence.” Sal gave a soft snort, shook his head again, and turned away. Roughing a hand over his face, he groaned. “Andra. What… what am I supposed to do with this?”

  “Nothing.”

  He speared her with a glance.

  “You didn’t want to be a part of our lives.”

  “That’s unfair.”

  This time, she snorted. “Yeah, I know.” Because he’d been unfair to her. “She’s your daughter. I won’t stop you from seeing her. If you want to.”

  “I’m a Special Forces operator, Andra. I’m gone nine months out of the year.”

  “We can make it work. I’m not asking you to make a commitment to me. But I would like Mila to know her father.”

  Father. Sal considered her. Remembered the firebrand he’d fallen for as soon as he hit Huachuca. “You’ve changed.” She would’ve been in his face, demanding her rights. She could’ve come after him for child support. The Army took that stuff seriously. But she hadn’t said a word.

  “I had to,” she answered quietly. “Life wasn’t just about me anymore. I had a baby to provide for.”

  Though he wanted to be angry with her, he couldn’t get that round face he’d seen in her picture frame on her desk out of his mind. Curiosity about Mila overrode his sense of injustice. Guilt hung an anchor around his neck. He’d made a mess of things. And in the end, he not only lost Vida, but he lost Cassie and a baby he never knew existed. “I’m sorry.”

  Blue eyes widened, her face washing clean of the defensive posture she’d held since their first encounter that week Hawk fled into the mountains.

  He owed her that apology. “I had to keep my word to her.”

  “I know,” Cassie said, her chin dimpling and her eyes glossing.

  “You hate me for it?”

  “I did. Once.” She swished her mouth to the side, as if to prevent herself from crying. “But there were too many things against us. And I was drowning in guilt and grief. I had to let it go and raise Mila.”

  Curse her—she looked so beautiful in the morning sunlight. Always had. That blond hair like a golden halo. Blue eyes bleeding with sincerity and vulnerability. Drew him in like the sap he was. “I don’t know what to do with this.”

  “We’re doing it.” Her smile went all crazy soft again. That kind that made him get stupid one too many times. “It’s what I hoped for.”

  Stepping across this line, letting go of his anger—he couldn’t do that to Vida. He couldn’t pretend that didn’t happen. “This doesn’t change things between us, though.”

  “Did you love her, Sal?”

  “Doesn’t matter. She’s gone—that’s what matters.”

  “Is it?” Cassie leaned in, her voice softening. “If she’s gone, why does she hang like a storm in your eyes?”

  “Because I got her killed.” The words pounded with each beat of his heart.

  “You didn’t! Neither did I.”

  “I cheated on her with you, and then you sent Vida to her death because of me. I can’t live with that.”

  “Sal, we didn’t kill her. I know it feels that way—and for years I believed that. I was wrong, for what I did and in believing that it was my fault she died.”

  “If you hadn’t gotten Hammonds to send her to Helmand, she’d be alive.”

  “Maybe. Maybe, but not absolutely. Neither of us could’ve predicted she’d die.”

  “Sal!”

  He pivoted and found Dean waiting at the door.

  “Now.” Dean vanished back inside.

  He shifted to her. “We’ll talk later.”

  She smiled but it fell away quickly. “Sal, are you cutting again?”

  That was a place she didn’t need to go. And where he wouldn’t go. Wouldn’t discuss. Shouldn’t have opened up to her and made her think she had a right to ask him about anything in his life.

  This thing with Mila turned his brain to sludge. “We have a meeting. Let’s go.”

  She should be relieved the truth was out, that they’d had a face-to-face about the past, about Mila—wow, she sure never meant for that to come out, at least not right now—but feeling those ridges on his arm, remembering how he’d started cutting back at the base in the days before Vida showed up… What was stressing Sal now?

  “All right, listen up,” Captain Watters said as the team settled into seats around the briefing area. The SEALs were here with Raptor along with a couple of MPs. Why were MPs in a briefing? A large screen sported a grainy image of Brie Hastings. Where was she?

  Sal stood near her at the back of the room, arms folded over his broad chest.

  “We’ve got new intel to work and a plan to put in play,” the captain said, holding up a piece of paper. “Miss Zarrick has translated a few pages from the journal we found. Much of it is encoded, so the journal will head to DIA, but we caught a few.” His eyes were dark as he met the team’s gazes. “They are specifically targeting the ODAs and special operators. They are looking for our identities.”

  “The only reason they’d want that is to take us out.”

  “And maybe go a little deeper,” Dean said with a nod.

  “Like what?” Hawk asked, hesitation tightening his tanned face.

  “Address, next of kin.”

  Curses singed the air.

  “So, more than ever, it’s our mission to stop Meng-Li Jin and his minions.” Dean let out a heavy breath. “Lieutenant Walker.”

  Cassie straightened, the heat of the gazes swinging toward her burning down her spine. “Sir?”

  His intelligent, keen eyes bored through her. Intense. Determined. Like Sal in a lot of ways, but somehow gentler. No, that wasn’t the right word. Subtler, maybe. “Would you like to explain this to us?” He nodded to where a grainy video footage sprang onto a monitor mounted on the wall.

  “Sure.” Her mind worked to decipher what she saw. Then she knew. Oh no.

  The images were of her and Gearney at Takkar Towers, talking
outside. Then switched to her entering the elevator. Exiting on the fifth floor. The camera zoomed, zeroing in on her inside the reception area waiting for Kiew. Heat wafted across her shoulders.

  “What do you want to know?” Trained to act calm and innocent, she struggled to maintain a normal tone.

  “I’d like to know what you were doing there. Especially when this team and its allies are in an active investigation to prevent future attacks. The very attacks we believe Daniel Jin, owner of that office space, is directly responsible for. The ones that killed General Burnett and dozens of other American military personnel on this base.” No mistaking the anger in Captain Watters’s voice.

  Cassie considered the two paths before her—be honest about her friendship with Kiew or feign investigating just like the team. If she did the latter, they’d want to know why she wasn’t open and direct with them. That would lead to more questions that she didn’t want to answer.

  Though the gazes locked on to her held suspicion, they had not blown into full anger. “My friend works for Daniel Jin.”

  “What friend?” Watters demanded.

  “A friend I’ve known since high school,” Cassie began, knowing she had to provide backstory before they learned she was long-lost friends with Daniel Jin’s paramour. “I lived with her family for a year.”

  “I’m sitting here wondering why you’re leaving her name out,” Hawk said from a nearby chair where he sat stiff from the gunshot wound, turning a pen over and over in his hand.

  Cassie lifted her chin. These men were at the top of their game for a reason. “Kiew Tang.”

  “Son of a biscuit.” Sal glared.

  Hawk slapped down the pen. “You’re kidding me, right? The same psycho chick who put a gun to my head?”

  “And didn’t shoot you,” Cassie reminded him.

  “When, Miss Walker,” Captain Watters’s still-calm voice cut through the murmurs and whispered objections and curses, “did you plan to inform us that you were friends with one of our enemies?”

  “I am not convinced that Kiew is your enemy.”

  Eyebrow arched, Captain Watters reached toward Riordan, who handed him a file. “What about this?”