The next two weeks would be hard, with the Rikers gone and Amber having to face Christmas Eve and the site of some of her happiest memories alone. But not as hard as whatever Kale faced overseas. Now she had a plan, and that gave her strength. She would survive this, and so would Kale.
Chapter Two
The sun blazed out of a pale sky, bouncing off rocks and sand, radiating in every direction. Kale, prone between a boulder and a ragged rock face, hadn’t moved in so long he thought his body might literally be cooked. The breeze that kicked up every so often did nothing more than blow sand in his face.
He blinked dust out of his eyes and repositioned the binoculars. His index finger nudged the focus button until his view into the shack’s window was crisp.
Their mission target reportedly had a mole directly below the right corner of his mouth and a scar bisecting his left eyebrow. Both identifying marks were clear on the man centered in Kale’s glasses. Thank God. He was so done with all of this. Done with the sand, the heat, the setbacks. Done with the shadow world he’d lived in for far too long.
Their last two missions had resulted in the capture of two warlords who had been terrorizing locals and the humanitarian groups trying to bring them food and medicine. Those successes had spoiled Kale and his team. They’d expected this mission to go the same way. Easy in, easy out, leaving this part of the world a marginally better place.
He should have known better. Completing this mission would get Kale home. So of course it was FUBAR from the get-go. Bad intel, malfunctioning equipment, a freaking flu sweeping through the team. You name it, it had bitten them in the ass.
But not this time.
So focus, asshole. They’d finally found the tangos they were tasked to bring in. Bad enough the predicted window meant they had to do this during the day. He had damned well better not fuck it up just because he could only think about Christmas and the plan he’d refined in his head over long hours of forced downtime.
He thumbed his throat mike. “Jacobus. Report.” He listened to his team members repeat the details they’d laid out fifteen minutes ago. It was easy to concentrate during the reports, but once they all lapsed into silence again, his mind drifted back to the last time he saw Amber. Her flippy little red skirt revealing her gorgeous legs. Creamy cleavage flashing at him every time she set a baby on his knee. Her laughter, the love in her eyes, the way she went all serious when he pulled her down into his lap. Her warm mouth opening for him, her hands clutching the thick sleeves of his Santa suit, her throat releasing a quiet moan.
Fuck. He had to stop that. Distraction was a bigger enemy than the tangos in that shack. He was better than this.
He snorted at the irony. So much time had passed since that goodbye precisely because he was so good at his job. When he returned from his last leave, his commanding officer told him he’d been selected for a black ops mission that required him to go dark. He’d been excited, God help him. Chosen for a joint service team to infiltrate enemy territory and take out a heinous criminal most people back home didn’t even know existed. They’d done so well on that first mission they were released to the jurisdiction of an alphabet soup of “security” agencies and assigned to one task after another. Then the team leader was wounded and sent home, and Kale was promoted. At first, he hadn’t paid attention to how much time had passed, how long he’d gone without talking to Amber or his parents. He was that driven, that involved in their assignments. But then one of the guys mentioned his ex, and it flipped a switch in Kale’s brain.
The shadow agency had selected him and the rest of the team because they were dedicated, skilled servicemen with no major outside obligations. But that was on paper. None of them were married or had kids, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t left anyone behind.
Too much time had passed. All of them had been here longer than they’d expected. Kale’s original discharge was supposed to go through a year ago, but when he agreed to this transfer, he missed the part where it obligated him to additional time and nullified the letter he’d dropped to resign his commission. After fighting for months, he’d finally gotten them to agree to resubmit his letter so he could go home. After this mission was over.
His watch vibrated. Time to move. One last report to confirm the details. Four men, all armed, plus the leader. No civilians, children, women. They just needed to clear the way. Kale tasked his ordnance expert with scouting the open land between their hiding place on the bluff and the shack, laid out the plan, and set it in motion.
The stopwatch in his brain ticked off the time as they leapfrogged into position around the outside of the shack. The tangos’ voices came through the open window, only so much babble to Kale. He pressed his comm deeper into his ear so Stelmat’s translation was clearer. The targets were planning an attack on a nearby village, one friendly to the occupying forces. Exactly the reason Kale’s team had been given to round up this group.
Kale gave the order to move in.
Bodies in motion, controlled, determined. Choreographed by thousands of hours of training and working together. Then shouts. Short bursts of fire. The tangos on the ground, secured. Stelmat slammed the leader against the wall, his hands already strapped. All according to plan.
Except the leader was…laughing.
Shit.
Kale shouted an order too late. A trapdoor burst open and two men came out firing before their heads even cleared the floor. Kale’s men fired back, diving for cover. Everyone was shouting—his team, the tangos, their boss. Kale flipped the table over and braced his arms on its edge, taking careful aim with his sidearm. He fired. One shooter down. He squeezed the trigger again…and the world exploded in a wave of red with golden lights.
…
The world was muffled, wavery. Peaceful, until half a dozen bodies sank in bursts of bubbles around him. He pushed upward, his lungs burning. Shouts resolved into catcalls and laughter just before Kale blew up out of the frigid lake.
He noisily filled his lungs and hooted. “Holy hell, that’s cold!”
“Serves you right, dude!” his friend Danny taunted from the dock. He shook a big fluffy towel. “We’re waiting for you. It’s all warm and cozy.” He rubbed the terrycloth on his cheek.
Around Kale, Hempfield’s bravest—or most stupid—gasped and spluttered or swept sheets of water at each other. Screw that. He was getting out! His limbs shook as he stroked the distance back to the dock. Why the hell had he jumped so far off the end? In the summer he’d have made the distance in ten seconds. Right now, every overhead pull took him half as far as it should.
He shuddered as hot hands helped him up the ladder, then let him go to assist the other noble idiots participating in the Polar Bear Plunge to benefit kids with cancer. Danny tossed the towel around his shoulders and pushed Kale down the dock where volunteers waited with hot cocoa, coffee, and clothes.
“Fleece first.” Amber shoved a thick sweatshirt over Kale’s head and helped him feed his hands through the sleeves. “Here.” She stuck a cup of cocoa in his hand and knelt at his feet to hold the waistband of his sweatpants open. “Hurry. Your teeth are chattering.”
Kale clenched them together but didn’t lift his foot. He and Amber had been part of the same big gang of friends for years. He’d had his eye on her for months, ever since she graduated from college. He’d asked her out and she said yes, but the night before their first date, her parents had been killed in a car accident. He’d ended up being the friend with a shoulder to cry on, instead.
Kale understood. His parents were older, so he expected to lose them earlier than most people did, but not as young as Amber had. She’d coped by throwing herself into community service and using the insurance money to open a consignment shop downtown. Kale had done what he could to help, and because Amber never mentioned their canceled date, he never did, either.
Part of him was waiting for her to be ready, to give him a sign that it was okay to try again. Time was running out. His training started in two weeks,
and it was unfair for him even to consider pushing forward with her.
But she looked up at him now, laughing, her face glowing in the thin January sunlight, and his heart twisted. Her grief, his military service, the stress of a long-distance relationship, none of it mattered. She was made for him.
Kale came to with a hard gasp that sent a spasm of pain through his torso. There was still shouting, but it had purpose and control now. Faces faded in and out over him.
“Hang on, Captain.”
Kale realized he was on his back on something hard. Metal. Light flashed, and his head swam and dipped. No. Not his head—or not just his head. He registered the thwap thwap thwap that matched the flashes of light and shadow. He was in an evac helo. Injuries. There were injuries.
“How many?” he croaked, lifting his head and shoulders so he could sit up. Agony arrowed through his side. Holy fuck what was wrong with him? The world had gone red again. He blinked to clear it, struggled to focus on the report his XO was trying to give him.
“…casualties, but—”
Kale fisted his left hand around Jacobus’s vest. “What casualties?”
“None for us, sir. We have two seriously wounded. Stelmat has a busted leg and a neck injury. He’s strapped down and stable. Three with superficial wounds. And you, sir, have a good-sized hole in your side.”
No wonder he couldn’t sit up. At least his men were alive. “The target?”
“Dead. On board.”
Good. Mission accomplished. Now he just had to get home to Amber by Christmas Eve. He tried to calculate how many days he had for debriefing and travel, but his brain suddenly relaxed. He glanced at his arm. Something had pinched it a few seconds ago. A clear tube stretched up from the crook of his elbow. Shit, they were…
He stepped out of darkness into the light on her front porch. Amber smiled over her shoulder, one hand unlocking the deadbolt, the other twisting the doorknob. Kale was afraid to interpret that smile. Yeah, this had been their best date yet. Not just dinner and a movie but a long walk around the lake, lots of heated kisses, even deep discussion about hopes and dreams and the future. All the things women dug and men usually dreaded. But Kale had loved every minute of it.
He was so fucking gone over this woman.
But would she invite him in? He was leaving tomorrow and had no right to ask her to wait for him. Not after a two-week—was he really thinking of it this way?—courtship.
But she grabbed him by the tie and jerked him after her into the dark living room. The door slammed behind him and he followed it, surprised by the wildcat who shoved him backward and pressed herself full-body against him.
Kale recovered quickly. She smelled so damned good, fresh air and sweetness and desire. Her mouth tasted even better.
She laughed into the kiss. “Sleep with me now, for tomorrow you may die,” she teased.
Kale didn’t feel like laughing. He rested his forehead against Amber’s and cuddled her close. His hands roamed up and down her back. “Don’t joke.”
She must have heard something in his tone. “I’m sorry.” She caressed his face. “Are you afraid?”
Of dying? No. Of being away from her, of losing her—hell, yes. He was even more afraid of expressing it after they’d been together such a short time.
Okay, expressing it again. He couldn’t believe he’d blurted it out like that. It was just that she’d been so beautiful, so full of life and laughter. So much of everything he wanted to protect, a symbol of all his reasons for joining the military. He wanted her to know, before he abandoned her, how much she meant to him.
Back at the lake she’d only hugged him hard, then kissed him with hunger that had pulled them back here for privacy. Kale had warred with himself the entire walk. His noble side was losing badly before they even reached her walkway. Now it lay broken and battered next to the lustful winner.
“I really do love you,” he whispered. “I hate myself for even telling you that. But I wanted you to know before I leave. I’m not just trying to get my rocks off while I still can.”
She laughed and rubbed her body against his. “I know that. And I have a secret.” She backed up, her hands hooked into his jacket, pulling him with her. She never looked behind her, but dragged him up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom.
“What’s your secret?” Kale could hardly breathe—exactly how he’d been when he came out of the lake and found Amber kneeling at his feet. She sank to her knees again and reached for his belt buckle.
“I love you, too.” And she proceeded to take him to heaven.
Kale’s brain went fuzzy. The darkness in the room faded into light. He struggled to hold on, but consciousness slowly overtook him.
He opened his eyes. Pale walls, limp curtains around his bed, an IV pole on his left, and beeping equipment on his right. Hospital sounds filtered from beyond the curtains, nothing frantic or hurried, just day-to-day business.
He lay there for a few minutes, absorbing. Letting the dream-memory fade so he could concentrate on reality. He had to get up. Find out his men’s status. What day it was. How fucked up he was.
He pulled the monitoring clip off his finger and the EKG pads off his chest—wincing at the hair they took with them—and tried to roll to his left. Pain blazed as badly as it had before, deep into his right side. He blistered the air with curses and forced himself upright. With his hand clamped over the bandages on his side, he breathed through the pain.
He sat hunched until it subsided and his vision cleared. He reached for support, and his hand found the IV pole. It was cold against his palm as he dragged himself to his feet. Sweat popped out on his forehead and neck, and the floor threatened to smack him in the face.
“Oh, no you don’t!” A nurse whipped back the curtain and braced strong hands on his shoulders.
“I need to—”
“Get updates on your team. I know the drill.” Somehow, she maneuvered him back onto the bed against his will, releasing him to work the bed’s controls. The top half rose to meet him, and Kale tried to hide his relief at the support. She smirked and adjusted the blankets over his legs. “You guys are all the same, and every one of you thinks you can get past me.” She charged on, her rant convincing Kale he wasn’t going to succeed where seemingly everyone before him had failed.
When she wound down, he asked, “What day is it?”
“December twentieth.” She checked the contents of a pitcher on the little table next to the bed. “You need ice. I’ll get that and the OIC to come answer your questions. Don’t move.”
Kale found himself smiling. Nurses had it all over officers as far as giving orders. But the amusement faded when no one came to brief him. What had happened during his lost hours? He didn’t remember anything after the sedative on the helicopter. He’d give Jacobus hell for that, if he didn’t know it had probably been necessary. For damned sure, if they hadn’t knocked him out, he’d have tried to get up to take over the situation. That was his job.
Or it had been. He hoped to hell his job was over. If he remembered right, Jacobus had told him the target was killed in the firefight. They’d been ordered to capture him, so the mission wouldn’t be considered successful. But it would be marked complete, and that was all Kale needed to get out.
Hopefully they would debrief him and wrap up the details in time for him to go home. He could still make it by Christmas Eve.
A few months ago, after he’d bought the engagement ring that hadn’t left his body since, he and the guys had been hanging around watching one of the random DVDs people sent in care packages from the States. They’d ripped into the ridiculous surprise-reunion-at-Christmas storyline, but it had gotten Kale thinking. Women loved that shit, and public homecomings were almost bigger Internet porn than LOLcats. His go-to memory was playing Santa, with Amber as his helper, on their last Christmas Eve together. It was the perfect time to propose. Four days was cutting it close, but if he pushed—
“Captain Riker.” A tall bald
ing man pushed aside the dangling curtain between beds and stepped into Kale’s cubicle. He wore a silver eagle and a nametag that said “DiPaolo.” The nurse closed the curtain behind him. Her shoes squeaked softly as she left them alone.
“Sir.”
“This is not a secure ward.” DiPaolo glanced around then pulled a rolling stool under his ass, wheeling as close to Kale as he could. “I don’t have the authority to give you a full debriefing or report here. But I think if we keep you in the dark more than a few minutes, you’ll be tearing down the walls looking for answers.”
“Yes, sir.” Kale curbed his frustration. “I was told some of my men were badly hurt.”
“Stelmat has a broken leg with some torn tendons and sufficient damage to be sent home for rehabilitation. His neck injury was not as major as feared in the field. Three of your team were treated on base with minor injuries and are pending reassignment.”
Kale nodded to acknowledge the report, but had to hide his dismay. He wanted to be done, yes, but this wasn’t how he wanted his team to break up. He had no idea what reassignment would mean in the shadows. If they stayed dark, he wouldn’t be allowed to contact them from the outside.
“Your situation is more serious,” DiPaolo continued. “I’m told they expect to move you to a semi-private room today. Now that you’re awake, your condition will likely be upgraded from critical but stable to recovering. We’ve tried to contact your parents, but have been unable to reach anyone.”
He should call them. He didn’t want a stranger telling them he was hurt, and they could help him with the surprise. “I’d like to call them myself, sir, when we’re done here.”
But DiPaolo shook his head. “We’re in a communications blackout, probably until Tuesday.”
If You Believe in Me Page 2