Shelter in a Soldier's Arms

by Susan Mallery

  Ashley blinked. “A room? I’d prefer to have one. Sleeping in the car has never been my idea of a good time.”

  “Did you want one of your own?”

  It took her a second to figure out what he was asking. A room of her own, as in did she want them to share a room?

  “We’re not at home,” he continued, avoiding her gaze, which was so unlike Jeff. “I thought you might prefer to have the privacy.”

  He was nervous, she thought suddenly. And embarrassed, if his shuffling feet were anything to go by. She wouldn’t have thought Jeff capable of either emotion.

  “Will I be in the way if I stay with you?”

  His gray gaze settled on her face. His look was so intense, it was almost like being touched by him.

  “I’d prefer us to be together,” he said, “but it’s your call.”

  She raised herself on tiptoes. “Do you think they have a room with a mirror on the ceiling?”

  He grinned. “I’ll ask.”

  He moved to the reception desk. As he registered them, Ashley felt a fluttering sensation in the center of her chest. A warm, mushy kind of fluttering that occurred more and more when she was with Jeff. She knew what it meant and it scared her to death. She did not want to be falling for this man. Especially when she didn’t know what he was feeling about her. She wanted to think that this mattered to him, that it was more than just casual, but she couldn’t be sure.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “What?”

  She glanced around and saw that their bags had been whisked away. He handed her a room key, then put his hand on the small of her back to urge her forward. They walked down a long corridor that led to the conference rooms. Double doors stood open. A young woman smiled and handed Jeff a clipboard and Ashley a name tag. Only her first name had been printed in block letters.

  “Let’s go,” he said, and motioned for her to step into the conference room. Ashley prayed for courage, then did as he requested.

  The room was about forty by forty, with several conference tables set up, facing front. About two dozen people stood talking in small groups. There were only two other women and they were both older than Ashley by at least a decade.

  All the name tags had first names only, with no indication of who was whom or where anyone was from. She noticed several of Jeff’s staff standing around the perimeter of the room. Zane was up in front, talking with one of the hotel staff. When he saw Jeff, he shook hands with the staff member and moved toward his partner. Ashley took a seat at the end of one of the tables. No one might be identified by location and occupation, but she could tell that everyone here was wealthy, powerful and probably tipped more than she made in a year. Why on earth had she let herself be talked into this?

  “Welcome,” Jeff said as he moved to the front of the room. “Ritter/Rankin Security is pleased to have you here for our executive security weekend retreat. I’m Jeff Ritter and this is my partner, Zane Rankin.”

  Everyone took a seat. A short, round man sat next to Ashley. He appeared to be close to sixty and had the most gorgeous diamond pinky ring she’d ever seen. His suit looked softer than her flannel pj’s and she would swear she’d seen his face in the international financial section of the Seattle paper. Please God, don’t let him want to exchange business cards, she thought humorously.

  “One of our staff members is moving among you, passing out a schedule for the weekend,” Jeff continued.

  Ashley took the offered notebook and opened it.

  “We’re here to teach you about being safe,” Jeff went on. “In one afternoon and two days, you’re not going to become experts. That’s not our goal. What we want to teach you is preparedness and awareness. You need to know what kind of security you’re going to need so you can hire the best available.

  “The first lecture is on security preparation. We’ll touch on various dangers, what is likely and what is unlikely to happen to you when you travel. We’ll talk about threats to your family. We will also discuss the duties and responsibilities of a security detail.

  “Later this afternoon we’ll have our first session on weapons. This will occur at the firing range away from the lodge. You’ll be handling everything from a handgun to a submachine gun.

  “Saturday morning we’ll focus on terrorist threats. Who, where, how and when. This will include information on both bombs and booby traps. Saturday afternoon is evasive driving.

  “On Sunday everyone will participate in three different mock terrorist situations. The goal is to make you aware and cautious. If that means putting the fear of God into each and every one of you, all the better. Nobody dies on my watch. Any questions?”

  Ashley had to consciously keep from letting her mouth drop open. She thought about all the time she’d spent with him and how they laughed and talked and made love late into the night. She was having trouble reconciling that man with the man in front of her. She’d wanted a chance to find out about Jeff’s world. Now that she was here, it was a little late to be having second thoughts.

  “When in doubt, trust no one,” Zane said later that afternoon as he paced the length of the conference room. He pointed to a man in the front row. “John, tell me a bit about your business.”

  The man, a forty-something British executive, adjusted the front of his khaki-colored shirt and cleared his throat. “The company is a multinational software conglomerate. We have—”

  “Any kids?” Zane asked, interrupting.

  “Yes, three. Two boys and a girl.”

  “Any of them away at school?”

  “One son is at Eton.”

  “You must be proud.”

  “I am. Margaret and I—”

  “Margaret’s your wife?”

  “Yes. She and I have been most fortunate in that our children are…”

  John’s voice trailed off when he realized one of the security staff was typing into a portable computer. Seconds later the printer shot out several pieces of paper.

  “What is going on here?” he demanded, rising to his feet.

  Zane took the pages and handed them to him. Then he turned his attention to the group. “John just gave the lives of his wife and children to a terrorist group determined to make its mark. In the time it took him to share some general information about his occupation, the type of company he worked for, the name of his wife and the number of his children, we were able to pull together a relatively complete file on him. The data bank already exists. Incomplete profiles are stored and as more details are learned, the profiles grow. One slip—a son in Eton, the name of a spouse—can bring it all together.”

  John flipped through the pages and swore softly. “I didn’t know.”

  “Most people don’t. You got off lightly this time. We’ve screened everyone. No lurking terrorists. Next time you might not be so lucky.” He pointed to John’s name tag. “That’s why first names only.” Zane turned to Ashley. “Tell us about yourself.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. “I don’t think I know you well enough to share any details. But thanks for asking.”

  “Exactly right,” Zane said, winking at her. “Better to be considered rude than be found dead. Remember, if you don’t know the person, don’t take the risk. It’s not worth it.” He glanced at his watch and nodded at Jeff. “Let’s switch subjects. If you’ll turn to the next section in your notebooks.”

  “Security,” Jeff said by way of introduction. “Having too much staff is just as useless as having too little. Don’t get caught up in the game of looking good with an entourage.”

  He continued talking, but Ashley wasn’t paying attention to his words. She was too mesmerized by how he looked. She took in the fatigues, the baseball-style military cap, the gun strapped to his waist. He was a stranger—a very exciting, very dangerous-looking stranger. He was—

  Both sets of side doors burst open and nearly a dozen armed, masked men poured into the room. Someone screamed. Ashley thought it might have been her, but her throat was too dry. Her
heart leaped into her throat, making it impossible to breathe.

  Before she knew what was happening, the men were grabbing people and forcing them toward the rear of the room. Everything happened so quickly. There was a gunshot and a cry. Instinctively she turned to catch sight of Jeff. At first she couldn’t see where he was but then she noticed him by the front wall. He was checking his watch.

  She felt someone grab her arm and roughly thrust her toward the rear of the room. Seconds later a voice yelled, “Clear!”

  Jeff looked up. “Thirty-two seconds. That’s how long it took my men to collect you into an easily manageable group. Give them another twenty-five seconds and you’d all be dead.”

  The man who had been “shot” scrambled to his feet. He was one of the security staff. He patted his chest and grinned. “Blanks on a bulletproof vest. I didn’t feel a thing.”

  “Now that I have your attention,” Jeff said, “let’s talk about buying the best. Don’t be cheap. Get the best people and give them the most dependable equipment available. Newer isn’t always better. Figuring out what they should have isn’t your job—you have experts for that. But don’t skimp. Yes, a clip that holds more bullets costs more. So what? Isn’t your life worth that?”

  He put down his clipboard. “Let’s take a fifteen-minute break so that your heart rates can get back to normal.”

  Ashley pressed her hand to her chest and wondered if that would ever happen. At least her heart had returned to her chest. She moved over to the table set up with sodas and water. She opened a can of a diet drink and sipped. A few of the other participants chatted to each other while most pulled out their cell phones and made calls.

  Zane walked over to where she stood and he grinned. “Great huh? Did you ever feel so alive?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I felt very alive before I thought I was going to die. That was not my idea of a good time.”

  Zane laughed as he moved away, but she didn’t think it was funny. She turned her attention to Jeff who was busy answering questions. For the first time she was starting to understand who and what he was. A warrior.

  She remembered he’d told her Nicole had said he wasn’t human. Ashley disagreed. He was very human. He was just better trained and more willing to die than most people. He was also very special. How many men like him would be willing to take the time to braid a little girl’s hair or read her a story? How many would bother with things like Easter egg hunts or remember to compliment her on a new hat?

  Yes, he was a warrior and she loved him.

  Ashley closed her eyes against the sudden burning behind her lids. She didn’t want to start crying here, but emotion overwhelmed her. She loved Jeff. It was a thousand kinds of stupid and yet she hadn’t been able to stop herself.

  To make matters worse, along with the love came fear. She knew what she wanted in her life—someone who would love her completely, more than he’d ever loved anyone else ever. She desperately needed to be first in his life.

  Was that Jeff? Did he care about her that way? She wanted to believe it was possible, but she wasn’t sure. Could the warrior open himself that much? His life was so different from hers. She couldn’t go where he went. Would he be willing to stay on her side of the line?

  She felt a hand on her shoulder, turned and saw Jeff standing next to her.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, concern deepening his voice.

  She forced herself to smile. “Zane seemed to feel it was all a joke, designed to make us feel alive. I told him I was plenty alive enough before. If anything, the attack scared about three years of life out of me.”

  “That’s the adrenaline. It’s a powerful chemical, but it will fade.”

  She touched her chest. “So I’ll be able to breathe without gasping?”

  “Just give it a minute.” He brushed his fingers against her cheek. “How are you holding up? Any regrets?”

  “About four dozen, but I’m still enjoying myself. It’s really different from my ordinary life.”

  “Are you surprised?”

  “By the differences? No.” she shrugged. “I knew what you did, but I never understood the details. There are way too many ways to kill people.”

  “My job is to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “Agreed, but is it what you do or who you are?”

  She knew what she wanted him to say. Unfortunately she also knew what he was going to say.

  “It’s who I am,” he told her. “That can’t change.”

  “I know,” she said with a lightness she didn’t feel. “But a girl can dream.”

  He dropped his hand to his side. His gaze grew more intense. “What do you dream about, Ashley? What do you want?”

  She wanted him to be different. To be an ordinary man who worked in a bank or a factory. She didn’t want someone who saved the world because causes were often so much more important than people. She wanted him to be the kind of man who would love her back.

  She was as foolish as a child crying for the moon.

  “Pizza,” she said at last. “The all-meat kind with sausage and pepperoni. What do think? Is there a take-out pizza place around here?”

  At first she didn’t think he was going to let her change the subject. But she suspected Jeff didn’t want to discuss their differences any more than she did.

  “I happen to know a great little place in town. We’ll have it delivered.”

  “Sounds perfect.” She turned away, then glanced at him over her shoulder. “And while we’re waiting, we can take a bath…together.”

  “I’ve never been much for speeding,” Ashley said uneasily the next afternoon. She eyed the souped-up dark town car parked in front of her, then glanced at the oval course laid out in a field about ten miles from the lodge.

  The sealed concrete road went straight for about a quarter mile before curving through a series of turns. It disappeared behind a screen of trees, but she knew that on the far side of the track someone was spraying the surface with a slick mixture designed to make the tires slip. Assuming she survived that, the next section of the course would include an ambush, complete with gunshots and explosions. Being a passenger had been harrowing enough. Now it was her turn to drive.

  She understood the point of the exercise. The people who took this course for real were powerful enough to be kidnapping targets. Should that happen on the road, they had to be prepared. This afternoon wouldn’t substitute for a professional driving course, but it was an introduction. Ashley tried to find humor in the situation by wondering if the training would help her get a better parking place at the grocery store.

  Zane patted her back. “You don’t get special concession just because you’re female.”

  She glared at him. “Did I ask for any?”

  He shrugged. “You look kinda whiny.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Do you think annoying me is going to make me drive better?”

  “It’ll keep you from being nervous.”

  Jeff strolled over and glanced down at the list on his clipboard. “Ashley, you’re up next as the driver. Are you ready?”

  “Only if I get to kill Zane when I get back.”

  Jeff chuckled. “Is he getting on your nerves?”

  “Like nails on a chalkboard.”

  “Were you scared?”

  She looked at the big car and then at the course. “Maybe.”

  “So it worked.”

  She sighed. “I hate it when you two act all superior just because you’re professional soldiers.”

  Jeff opened the driver’s door and reached inside for the safety helmet. “Relax, concentrate and drive fast.”

  “Can I do just two out of three?” she asked.

  “No. All three are required.”

  Grumbling under her breath, she fastened on the helmet, then slid behind the wheel of the town car. Two men, bankers from New York, got into the rear. Zane rode shotgun. Jeff stood at the side of the track with a clipboard in one hand and a stopwatch
in the other.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” he called.

  Ashley nodded. She took a deep breath to try to ease the tension in her body. It didn’t work. She wiped her damp palms on her jeans and tried to tell herself that this was just pretend. Nothing bad was going to happen. Except she knew that it could. One of the participants had overturned the other town car an hour before. No one had been hurt but the car had been totaled.

  She glanced at her passengers. “Helmets on, gentlemen,” she said.

  When everyone was safely buckled in, she started the car and drove onto the track.

  The purpose of the exercise was to feel what it was like to have to drive evasively. They’d all seen a video on the subject and watched a demonstration. Now they were being given a chance to practice it for themselves.

  Based on the way the cars had fishtailed all over the road, Ashley knew she was in for a challenge.

  “You’re driving like a girl,” Zane said blandly as she eased into the first curve.

  She didn’t bother looking at him. “This kind of strategy may work on your recruits,” she said, “but as I am a girl, it doesn’t do a thing for me.”

  As she left the first curve, she accelerated. The exercise was timed, but she would lose points for skidding off the road.

  There were three S curves in succession, then a long straight section. At the end of it, the concrete glistened from the slick substance she would have to pass over. Gritting her teeth, Ashley floored the car, then eased up as they approached the oily mixture. She barely touched the steering wheel, so as not to change the direction of the car.

  The vehicle moved straight for the first twenty feet, then began to slide off the road. Ashley had watched the other drivers try to fight with the car. Instead she guided it to the side of the road. Once they settled onto the dirt shoulder, she pressed on the accelerator. The tires had traction and she was able to steer around the last of the slick trap.

  Only when she was back on the road did she risk glancing at Zane. He didn’t react at all. “Not bad,” he murmured.

  Ashley allowed herself a grin. She knew she’d done a whole lot better than not bad. She was about to tell him so when gunfire exploded all around the car.