Despite her clumsiest efforts, their spirits remained high.
She got along with data, not people.
Activity agents were rarely in on the final mission. They might go out into the field a dozen times themselves gathering intelligence, but operations were generally left to the action teams. But tonight there was no choice.
Kelsey couldn’t stop herself from glancing down at Sergeant Jason Gould’s hands as he made a show of inspecting his nails critically. They were cut short, uneven, and showed that he made his living with those hands—which made sense for a ramp gunner on an MH-47G Chinook. As one of the three crew chiefs, he’d have a dozen roles to serve—all of which said competent and strong. He was several inches taller than her own five-seven with an attractive leanness. She knew from his file that his family had a sportfishing business out of St. Petersburg, Florida. Curly dark hair and nearly black eyes.
She’d almost been attracted—if not for her hopelessness with attractive men. And the stupid hat.
“We’ll go together, Jason. I need a mani-pedi anyway.” Carmen. Dark red hair. Crew chief of the Chinook. Married to the co-pilot on the same craft. What a crazy outfit.
Five aboard the Chinook and four more aboard each of the two DAP Hawk gun platforms that would be flying protection. With her that made a total of fourteen flying tonight, plus two assets who had yet to arrive.
As Kelsey had no more control over the crew selection than the mission, she started the briefing. They might appear carefree, but the moment she began laying out the details of the mission, she had a hundred percent of their attention.
Chapter Two
It was still mid-afternoon by the time the short briefing ended and they were into the hangar. The soft rain had turned downright wet.
Jason had been searching for an excuse to talk to Kelsey Killaney since the moment she’d hit the pavement at the 5E’s compound. He found it when they stepped into the hangar.
“Stealth, ma’am. Every last bird.” Their big Chinook, two DAP Hawks—Black Hawks turned into the world’s most advanced gun platforms, and two Little Birds. The last wouldn’t be on this mission, and the crews hadn’t been called.
“I see that,” she sounded a little breathless. “I’ve simply never heard of them.”
“Must admit that we like it that way.”
“It explains how,” she looked at him puzzled for a moment, as if surprised to find herself talking to him. “How you do what you do.”
“That, and the best crew flying.” He still couldn’t believe that he was here. He supposed it was just being in the right place at the right time. After the Negev Desert disaster, they’d needed a new bird. The Army had provided them with the stealth configured Calamity Jane II and shipped them down to the 5E’s team at Fort Rucker. Their mission pace had doubled and the complexity as well. He’d always simply been glad to be flying, but in the 5E he’d become more than he’d ever imagined.
And now, with Kelsey Killaney standing so close beside him that he could smell her fresh scent, like a strange winter flower, he started to understand just what he’d achieved. He was a goddamn flyer on the best bird in the sky, anywhere. Maybe, just maybe, he was good enough to stand next to a woman like her and not feel out of place.
They were following the rest of the crew up the rear ramp of the Calamity Jane II, prepping it for the first leg of the flight.
Her light brown hair was back in a severe ponytail that emphasized her large eyes. She was fair-skinned and had one of those smiles that looked as if it was always ready, even though she hadn’t used it yet that he’d seen. The fact that she worked for The Activity said she was screamingly intelligent—an assumption borne out by the concise style of her briefing. If smart was the new sexy, she was a chart breaker—not that she wasn’t by the old measure as well.
He’d truly done his best to pay attention at the briefing, but it had been hit and miss. He’d managed to sit next to her, by the simple stratagem of holding out a chair for her. But, no matter what he did, he couldn’t get her to laugh. That hint of a smile hadn’t even shifted when he'd started a whole riff about personal grooming tips off Carmen’s mani-pedi remark—which was more Zoe the drone pilot’s thing than Carmen’s anyway.
Danny and the Captain were already in their seats running through checklists. Carmen and George were still outside pulling off pitot tube and air intake covers. So he had a moment and intended to use every second of it to his advantage.
“You need anything, ma’am? If so, I’m your man.” He tried not to wince. Smooth as descending staircase on a tricycle—a trick he’d only tried once, but possibly where he got his taste for flying. He was getting no points for subtlety on this effort.
“Do you have a reality check somewhere?” Her question caused him to do a doubletake. So she did have a sense of humor behind her ever-so-serious facade.
“Somewhere, sure.” Jason began patting the pockets of his flightsuit, peeked inside a couple of the pouches on his survival vest, and finally pulled a small pack of candy out of his medical supplies. “Will these do?”
Her expression turned into a dangerous scowl, “Hell no!”
He looked down to see if he’d mistakenly pulled out a grenade or a breaching charge, but he hadn’t. “Who doesn’t like Skittles?”
She sighed and rested a hand on his arm a moment as if apologizing.
Her fingers were almost delicate, but he could see a strength to them. She was so fit that he’d have guessed she was the sort who went to the high-end gym three times a week with a gaggle of girlfriends and had an impossibly handsome aerobics trainer named Julio—except that she was Activity. The agents from The Activity were just as likely to go into the field to gather their own intel from behind enemy lines as they were to work at a desk in Fort Belvoir. They were known for being ruthlessly competent. Another thing he liked in a woman. If competence was the new sexy, then—
“Thanks for the offer and, yes, I do like Skittles. I just have this thing about Christmas, so thanks but no thanks.”
He looked down at the little pack. It was clearly labeled Holiday Mix and showed only red and green flavors rather than the normal rainbow.
“Seems like you’re putting a lot of weight on a little bit of seasonal packaging.”
She nodded, “No argument from me. It’s the one topic I’m a complete lunatic on.”
“Christmas?”
“Christmas,” she confirmed as if it was an incursion by an entire battalion of Taliban.
“Completely rational about everything else?”
“Everything!” Kelsey’s tone was dry enough for him to laugh, which had several of the crew turning to look at him.
He squinted at Carmen, who had just come aboard and was checking over the internal systems, and mouthed, “What?”
Carmen shook her head, keeping her thoughts to herself, as she continued the pre-flight check.
Fine!
He tried to turn to give Carmen the cold shoulder, but she gave him an I-caught-you wink that blew his timing, even if he didn’t know what she was on about.
“Even rational about men?” Jason turned back to Kelsey.
“Always,” then she grimaced, “for what good it has ever done me.”
“I’m not sure if I should ask if that’s a good sign or a bad one for me.”
“As long as you’re wearing that hat? Bad sign.”
He looked up enough to spot the white, furry trim just above his eyebrows and remembered the blinking Rudolph.
“Nope,” he looked back down at her and made a point of shaking his head hard enough to make the little bell at the end tinkle brightly. “Even being a gorgeous Activity agent, I’m not giving up my hat for you.”
“Your loss,” and finally that smile of hers came out. She did a quick turn and hair toss worthy of any disdainful supermodel, then strode up the cargo bay. But it was the smile that slayed him. From pretty to radiant faster than a heat-seeking missile.
He could
only wonder what it would take to make her smile like that again. Taking off his hat? No. She’d smiled while making a joke because he had it on. He’d stick with a winning hand, no matter what she said about Christmas.
There had to be a reason behind it, but he wasn’t sure how comfortable he felt digging for it with a complete stranger, no matter how attractive. It wasn’t just her beauty. Something in her drew him—deeply. Not a feeling he was used to.
Done with the exterior inspection, George boarded as well and began checking his Minigun just as Carmen began going over hers. His own M240 hung out of the way in its bracket close by the rear ramp.
Kelsey sat in the observer’s chair just behind the pilots’ seats. That should be safe, they were both married: the Captain to the unit’s hot Italian drone pilot and quiet Danny—impossibly—to the vivacious Carmen. The only other crew member was the portside gunner and George was too British to try poaching where Jason had showed interest.
Out of excuses, Jason started his own preflight checks of the Calamity Jane II for a mission. Ammo full-stocked after the last mission was still fully stocked. Emergency supplies of food, water, and first aid were fully stocked and inside the refresh date. Enough to feed the whole crew for a week if they went down hard somewhere.
Then he started in puzzling on Kelsey. She must have her own reasons for being so Bah Humbug! But it didn’t fit her. She seemed…happier than that.
Quiet. Which among the screaming extroverts of the 5E must be a shock. But there was something more. As if—
A high whine of fast-moving tires was all the warning he had to dodge out of the way before a pair of Polaris MRZRs came racing up the rear ramp. He jumped aside, clinging to the inside of the Chinook’s hull to stay clear. The MRZRs were four-seater ATVs on Special Operations steroids. Tough, lightweight, fast, electric-quiet, and able to carry a thousand pounds of soldier and gear at sixty miles an hour or scramble over rough terrain at twenty. Except instead of the usual Army tan, they’d been painted like blue and red hotrods. Blinking Christmas lights had been wound around the bars of the roll cage which didn’t make much sense unless…undercover as civilian hotrod dune buggies.
Right. Low profile mission. But had the woman who hated Christmas thought of the Christmas lights? Jason suspected that she was the sort of woman who thought of everything and left nothing to chance.
The way the MRZRs raced aboard told him it was either SEAL or Delta at the helms.
Once they were in, he dropped back down. Both drivers wore clip-on fuzzy antlers.
“Duane? Dude! Haven’t seen your ugly face since you left the Rangers for that wimp-ass Delta outfit.” They’d stayed in close touch, but in four years had never managed to be in the same place at the same time.
“Jason, you Night Stalker piece of shit!” They thumped each other’s backs hard enough to hurt.
“Cool antlers. Too bad they aren’t half as cool as my hat.” Then he spotted the gorgeous Latina stepping out of the other rig. She looked very cute in her antlers.
“You must be Sofia. I can’t believe that you fell for a lump of coal like this one.”
“He is all mine,” she said in a happy, lushly Spanish accent, as she gave him a hug. “I have heard so many good things about you. I would know you anywhere by your so very silly hat.”
“And if it hadn’t been Christmas?”
“By your very good looks,” she didn’t hesitate to laugh.
Then she turned to Duane but kept an arm around Jason’s waist so he kept his around her shoulders.
“I do not know,” Sofia said thoughtfully. “Jason is so handsome. Why didn’t you ever tell me this. Maybe I should be with a Night Stalker man and not a Delta boy.”
With all the speed Jason would expect of a Delta operator, Duane hip-checked him into the emergency fire extinguishing system and separated Sofia with a quick hand about her waist—a move so smooth that it had all three of them laughing.
Chapter Three
Kelsey sat at the far end of the helicopter’s shadowed cargo bay and tried to look away. What would she give to be a part of that laughing circle of three? They looked so easy together, so effortlessly happy. That was a part of working for The Activity—she and the other analysts were a collection of loners, brought together by a fascination for the intricacies of information and an ability to turn it into actionable intelligence.
The folder that Colonel Gibson had provided was a perfect example. The first page had contained just three lines of information that suddenly brought her last six months of work into sharp focus.
* * *
Delta Team and 160th SOAR 5E, Ech Stagefield, Fort Rucker
Juan Zavala, Christmas Eve
(and an address in Cozumel)
* * *
It was Christmas Eve Day and Colonel Gibson had given her the first actionable lead on the elusive Juan Zavala that she’d seen in six months of hunting for him.
Zavala was one of the kingpins of the ultra-violent Jalisco New Generation cartel that she’d been tracing. The Jalisco were the former armed wing of the Sinaloa cartel and were rapidly gaining precedence in the Mexican drug scene. Under the kingpin theory of “take out the top and the internecine battles will do the rest of the cleanup,” Zavala was a prime target.
She even recognized the address. It was a beach house that she had researched as one of his likely safe houses, but had never been able to trace him to.
Then the woman separated herself from the two men as they turned to arranging the two MRZRs more carefully and tying them down for flight. She moved through shadows until she was almost at Kelsey’s side.
“Sofia?” She’d never expected to see Sofia Forteza again since she had left The Activity.
“Kelsey!” And Sofia gave her a hug as well which surprised her completely. Sofia had been one of her few friends at The Activity before she’d made the unlikely shift to Delta Force. But they’d never had a hugging kind of friendship.
“You seem happy.”
“Ecstatic! I didn’t know how much I loved being out in the field. Actually, I did know that. I know it better now. And Duane certainly helps,” she was practically glowing as she aimed a happy look back down the bay.
“How do you know Jason?” Kelsey wasn’t sure why she was asking. She’d watched them hug and felt… She didn’t know. As if she wished it was her instead?
“I don’t. It is the way that Duane talked about him, I seem to already know him. They served in the US Rangers together. They’ve stayed very close.”
Another skill Kelsey didn’t have. She’d lost touch with Sofia the moment she’d headed over the horizon.
“Is this mission yours?” Sofia’s effortless manners didn’t give Kelsey enough time to feel uncomfortable.
She nodded.
“Good,” Sofia nodded her head emphatically in return as the APU screamed to life and then the twin turbines began spinning up. “Then I know everything will go fine.”
“You do?” Kelsey must have heard wrong over the building noise. A backwash of hot exhaust rippled through the cabin—it would clear as soon as they were moving. She’d been worrying about the mission every second since Colonel Gibson had handed her the file then evaporated or dropped through a trap door or whatever he’d done.
Sofia dug into her pocket and pulled out a pair of earplugs as the engine noise escalated. She shouted as she slid them in. “You were always the best planner we had when the terribles hit the fan. Except for me, of course. We all knew it and it made you a little scary to work with.”
“I was?”
Past words, Sofia simply nodded before heading back down to rejoin the men.
People were scared of her?
Actually, that explained some reactions she’d observed. Rooms did seem to go quiet when she stepped into them, as if she was checking up on everybody. Except the 5E’s briefing room. They were so skilled that maybe nothing daunted them.
What would it be like to work with them more? On occa
sion, an agent was permanently embedded with an elite team to facilitate operational communications more tightly with The Activity’s specialties regarding human and signal intelligence. To be embedded with the 5th Battalion E Company would be both a challenge and…fun. Fun? That wasn’t something she was very good at and erased the thought from her mind.
But she couldn’t help glancing back down the cargo bay. Jason in his blinking Rudolph hat hadn’t been afraid of her—just the opposite. He’d continued talking to her even after she’d snapped at him for offering her Christmas candy. Killjoy strikes again.
Chapter Four
Kelsey Killaney’s plan sounded simple on the surface. Jason now knew that the surface appearances had nothing to do with one of Kelsey’s plans.
She’d only outlined the basic approach strategy back at Fort Rucker: length of flights, refueling stops, necessary equipment. Per her instructions, beneath his flightsuit he wore slacks, a dress-shirt, and running shoes, though she hadn’t explained why at the time. Under his shirt he wore a vest of lightweight Dragonskin armor for a bit of invisible protection.
She’d laid it out on the four-hour flight down to Naval Air Station Key West and refined it on the three-hour crossing to Cozumel after they’d eaten a hurried dinner while refueling. He’d never been to the small resort island off the Yucatan coast. Bringing a hot babe down here for a winter vacation had definitely been on his bucket list.
He’d never imagined that when he did it, he’d be unloaded after nightfall onto an empty stretch of beach ten miles across the island from the city of San Miguel de Cozumel. The weather was perfect. They’d left the storm somewhere over the Florida Keys and now drove out beneath a canopy of stars. Shirt sleeves were just right for the warm evening, though he could have done without the extra layer of the Dragonskin.
Night Stalkers usually didn’t deploy on the active part of the mission, that’s what Ranger door kickers and Delta operators were for. His job was to get them there, then shuffle away and hide until it was time to come fetch them.
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