by Ronie Kendig
“Appreciate that. I do. But this…” A distant expression took root in his eyes. “I’ve seen too much and don’t want to go there again. Not when it’s in my control.”
He wouldn’t try to guilt the guy into helping them. Boone gave a nod. “Understood.”
Rusty frowned and looked over Boone’s shoulder. “Who… I don’t recognize that nurse.”
Alarms blazed in Boone’s mind. Without hesitating, he threw himself at the door. Broke through and lifted his weapon. Swept the room and found the male nurse standing at Keeley’s bedside. “Step away!”
“What?”
“Step away. Now!”
“You’re kidding—”
“So help me, if you do not move now I will put lead between your eyes!” The male nurse took a tentative step back, glancing at Keeley.
“Hands where I can see them,” Boone said. He didn’t trust this guy. “Don’t move!”
The man whitened. “Holy cow—I’m not. I’m not!”
Sidestepping, Boone gave himself a clear line of sight on the man as he stared down his weapon at him. “Hands. Where I can see them. Nice and easy.”
Rusty moved past Boone and plucked the badge from the nurse’s uniform. “Stay here.”
“Uh,” the nurse said, hands in the air as he nervously looked at Boone. “No problem.”
“I’ll check it out,” Rusty said.
“We haven’t seen you here before,” Boone said, accusation in his tone and words. Vibrations tremored through veins, hot and thrumming. Ready for a confrontation. He’d been waiting for this moment. Waiting to catch the pukes who’d put Keeley here. He knew they’d come back to finish her off. Just didn’t expect them to take this long.
“That would be because this is my first day at Reston.” He didn’t look but midtwenties and like he might wet his blue scrubs. “I worked at Inova Loudoun for the last three years.”
Boone kept his weapon down, but he was ready. “We weren’t told of new staff.”
“Why would you be?” the nurse asked, but his gaze hit Boone’s Glock. “Who are you that you are notified of personnel changes?”
“I think the weapon explains why I’m notified,” Boone said.
Rusty and the head nurse, Cora, rushed in. “He’s clear.”
Boone gave the guy a once-over then holstered his weapon. “Nobody enters this room without prior authorization.”
“I’m sorry,” Nurse Cora said. “We faxed the paperwork in, but—”
“We didn’t get it.” Boone glared at Rusty. “I’ll be back.”
Once he made it to his truck, Boone dropped against the seat. Closed his eyes. Swiped his hands over his face. He’d been so ready to take that kid’s head off. What bothered him more was that the male nurse walked right past him and Boone hadn’t paid attention.
Keeley’s life is in my hands, and I let her down.
Annie
Lucketts, Virginia
29 May – 0830 Hours
“Pain is weakness leaving the body,” Téya muttered for the umpteenth time as she pushed up from the floor and slapped Annie’s hand. Then down again, repeating the phrase yet again, then lifting to pat Annie’s other hand.
Beside her, Annie ignored the trembling in her own limbs. Should she be worried about Téya? The fiery woman had more fire than ever. But this…this wasn’t right. It felt dangerous. Téya hadn’t been the same since returning from Paris, since her encounter with the assassin.
Annie struggled to lift herself back up to complete her forty-eighth push-up. She paused, gathering from the dregs of her strength. To her left, Annie shared a look with Nuala, whose brown hair lay plastered to her head with sweat and from the sparring helmet she’d worn ten minutes ago. They both shook their heads, neither of them able to huff through their workouts as easily as Téya. While Annie had an athletic build, Nuala was the smallest of the three. Jessie, when they were together and she was alive, had been the tiniest with her size 2 waist, but she held her own. They all had, but none as fiercely as Candice or Téya. And that was amplified now, after Téya’s run-in with The Turk.
“C’mon, ladies! Your attacker won’t wait because you’re tired,” Quade Henley shouted, though he stood only five feet away. “Isn’t that right, Two?”
Téya’s expression went stone cold as she completed another half-dozen push-ups as if they were her first.
“See, One? That’s how it’s done.”
“Why don’t you get off her back?” Dropping against the mat, Annie rolled onto her back. “In fact, give us all a break. We’ve been at this for over an hour.”
“What will your enemy say, One?”
“He’ll say I smell too bad to fight.” Annie pulled herself off the mat and started stretching.
“Get up! Get up and give me a mile,” Quade shouted at her, his face twisted in anger.
Grateful for some time out in the fresh air, Annie headed topside. Even as they entered the cement stairwell, she heard the impatient fingers of rain outside. Great. Exhausted and wet now. They stepped into the ominously dark day and beat the path through the woods and muck to complete their mile.
Téya glided past them.
“She’s not human,” Nuala huffed out as they crossed the creek.
“She’s driven,” Annie said then fell silent as she and Nuala maintained a steady, albeit slower running pace. They returned to the bunker sopping wet and with rubbery legs.
“Suit up,” Quade barked as he clapped and waved them back into the makeshift gymnasium. “Give me twenty pull-ups.”
Annie slowed, but she wasn’t giving him anything but a piece of her mind. “I’m not your dog. I don’t obey barked commands.”
“No, but you’re a soldier—”
“I’m not, actually,” Annie said, her chest rising with a heavy breath. “I’m a woman snatched out of the life she created when someone tried to kill her. I didn’t ask for or want this.”
“Well, too bad, because you’ve got it,” Quade growled, his voice gravelly.
Téya slowly came to her feet, dusting off her hands as she walked around inhaling and exhaling.
“Tell you what,” Quade said with a vicious grin. “I will get off your back when you can take me down.”
Annie blinked. Was the tank-of-a-guy serious? Even as she studied him, she noted that Téya turned toward them, a dark glint in her eye.
Hands on the back of her hips, Nuala asked, “Take you down? How?”
“Any way you can.” His voice grated along Annie’s nerves. “But I promise you—I will make it as hard as I can. I will not be soft. I will not go easy.”
“When?” Téya’s question had the air of challenge, the same one that lurked in her hazel eyes.
Quade turned to her, his black hair slick with sweat, his navy T-shirt ringed with stains around his pits and neck, making the shirt stick to his buff body. All reminders that he had strength and power Annie could not dream of possessing. Which made her nervous for Téya, who was taller than Annie, and more athletic, but still a slight woman compared to the oaf.
“When can we challenge you?”
Quade grinned, and Annie realized the guy wasn’t half bad looking. Not as charming and sexy as Sam, or as intense and raw as Trace. Quade held his own attractiveness. “You want it now?”
“Yes,” Téya said without hesitation.
“Let’s do it.” Quade motioned her onto the mat in front of him.
Annie felt herself step forward, knowing the pent-up frustration fueling Téya’s motivation to confront Quade. She had to stop her friend. “Te—”
“No,” Trace’s voice stabbed the tension.
Annie swung toward the entrance, where Trace stood in a tactical shirt and ACU pants. Though he seemed to wear the same terse expression every minute of the day, Annie saw past that. Saw the uncertainty and protection slipping past his tough facade. So, he was worried about Téya too.
His green gaze slid to Annie and held for a second, then to Téya an
d Nuala. “Shower up. Command room in fifteen.” He stepped back then said, “Quade.”
“Guess it’s your lucky day, Two. Your commander saved your hide from a heap of embarrassment.”
Annie snapped to Téya, who seemed ready to blow as the gruff PT instructor strode out of the room after Trace. “You have some shower gel I can borrow?” Annie asked, knowing full well she had an entire bottle in her locker.
A tremor raced through Téya as she slowly…very slowly dragged her gaze to Annie. And it was as if Téya looked straight through Annie, until she blinked. “Sorry. What?”
“Shower gel?” Annie shrugged. “I ran out.”
Another blink. A long hesitation. Then, “Sure.”
Once Téya headed out, Annie and Nuala gave each other a “that was close” look. Annie let out a long breath through puffed cheeks as she followed Nuala to the bunk rooms. After grabbing a clean change of clothes, Annie went to the showers.
Ten minutes later, dressed and dirty clothes put in the laundry room, Téya bumped Annie’s shoulder. “Thanks.”
“For what?” Annie asked as she stowed her toiletries in her locker.
Téya leaned past her and reached into the metal cabinet. She held up the bottle of gel. “For distracting me.”
Annie tamped down her smile. “Huh. Wonder where that came from.”
Trace
Lucketts, Virginia
29 May – 0930 Hours
“You’re kidding, right?”
Trace considered his friend, who’d showered in five minutes and joined him here. “I’m not.” He motioned to the phone. “He just called me. Wants them in the field.”
“Have you even paid attention to them lately?”
“What does that mean?”
“They aren’t here”—Quade tapped his temple—“mentally. They don’t want to be.”
“Once they hear what we’re doing, they’ll be in.”
Quade sat back with a grim demeanor, shaking his head.
Trace wasn’t worried. They were his team. He’d picked them. He’d trained them.
“And I’d be worried about Two.”
He didn’t need anyone to tell him that. The Turk had gotten into her head, or worse—her heart. Poisoned the woman’s mind with fear and a thirst for vengeance. And yet Trace had mixed feelings about his concern. This is what he’d always imagined Téya to be—strong, fierce. Facing danger head-on. She’d been great before, but he knew she had brilliance in her. She just hadn’t realized it yet. No, he wasn’t worried. She just had to learn how to hone and manage that acid roiling through her. Téya Reiker had spent too many years hiding behind “nice” and what she felt others wanted from her. She’d worked too hard to fit in and live life anonymously.
But getting her from point A to point B was a delicate process. Push her too hard and she’d crack, which is why he’d intervened with Quade’s hard-hitting tactics. But if he didn’t push her at all, she’d slip away into a shell of herself.
The door opened and the three women entered. With them came a fruity smell, no doubt their shampoos and body washes. He could immediately pick out Annie’s jasmine-scented gel. Stronger than usual today. In hand, each had a snack and water bottle.
As they settled in, Trace could only pray he’d been right about this team. About their resilience. “I appreciate the way you’ve been putting 100 percent into the training and PT.”
“Did we have a choice?” Annie asked.
“Absolutely.” Trace wished the turbulent seas between them could calm. “Considering your situations, it would have been understandable for you to push back, resist the attempts to strengthen you.”
“In other words,” Quade said, “you could’ve made yourselves miserable.”
“I’ve been in touch with General Solomon. We both believe you’re ready to return to active duty.”
“Return?” Annie sat forward, all her defenses raised like the hackles of a dog. “What do—we were deactivated! Kicked out of the Army.”
“No. Deactivated—yes. But you were never dismissed or discharged.”
“This is a joke, right?” Téya asked, her thin eyebrows knitted. “My entire life has upended—again! I gave up this life and embraced my grandmother’s way of life. The only reason I’m here is because you said I needed to be safe. All I want is to settle this then go back to Bleak Pond.”
“Me, too,” Annie said. “Er—I want to finish this fight then get back to my life in Manson.”
Not exactly how he expected them to react, but he wouldn’t let them derail the plan. These woman had it in them to fight. He wouldn’t have chosen them otherwise. They’d been too long in warm, soft safety.
“I’m fine,” Nuala said. “I’ve wanted to be in the military most of my life. Misrata ripped my dream away, so I’m glad to get it back.”
“You’re serious?” Annie stuffed her hands on her hips. “We’re still active?”
Disappointment chugged through Trace that the only one ready for the fight, wanting the fight, was Nuala. That they were all but shirking off his hard work. “How do you think we’ve been able to keep you hidden? If you’d been discharged, you would’ve been on your own.”
“Maybe it would’ve been better that way,” Annie said with a shrug.
“Right,” Trace said, an anchor of disbelief sitting on his chest. “Because you would’ve had so much more success avoiding the sniper’s bullet. Oh, and your SEAL boyfriend—would he be alive now if you’d stayed?”
“I’m in, sir,” Nuala said. “All the way.”
Trace nodded. That was what he’d expected and hoped the others to say. For the quietest and youngest to speak reason—that was a shock, too.
Outside the briefing room, Boone strode into the bunker, spotted them, and headed their way. He stepped into the room.
Nuala straightened and her gaze hit Boone. Almost instantly, her cheeks pinked. Trace glanced at his friend then back to Nuala, who had now lowered her head. Since when did Noodle have a thing for Boone?
“Welcome to the debate,” Quade said, holding his arms up.
Boone didn’t frown, but his expression wasn’t far from it. “What’s going on?” he asked Trace.
“I was about to explain to them that Solomon has a tip about Misrata, but One and Two decided they aren’t interested in serving anymore.”
“Interested?” Boone gave them a look that seared. “You signed up—this isn’t about interest. It’s about duty. And it’s your gig—I’d think nobody would be more interested in the truth than those being held responsible for the deaths of twenty-two innocent civilians.”
“Do not get self-righteous with us,” Annie said. “We’ve had our lives dissected, disassembled, and then ripped apart again.”
“Hooah.” Boone didn’t seem to care. “Welcome to the Army. Think my life has been simple since signing up? Think any soldier who’s lost a limb or come home with invisible wounds like TBI or PTSD didn’t have their lives ripped apart? And you think you can just walk away because it’s getting hard? What about Keeley, up there fighting for her life? How would she feel knowing her sisters-in-arms are back here whining about it being too hard?”
“That isn’t—”Annie snapped her mouth shut. And good thing, too, for the ferocity in Boone’s expression.
“Six?” Boone placed a hand on Nuala’s shoulder. “You’re in?”
Now the girl’s face went beet red. “I am, sir.” Nuala swallowed. “Sniper is all I’ve wanted to be. Glad to be a part of the team.”
Boone smiled at her. “That’s my girl.”
A nervous smile flitted across her face as she ducked, clearly torn between the praise Boone gave her and the loyalty to her friends. “Not doing anything special, sir. Just what I love and what I signed up for. I’m glad for the diversion. Being a civilian was boring.”
“Regardless of whether we like it,” Trace said, cutting into the awkward tension, “you are soldiers. Solomon’s office got a break—there’s a lead o
n a family in Greece, the Lorings, who can give us some answers about HOMe. But they are in hiding. Priority one is securing their safe exit from Greece.”
“After this, once Misrata is settled, I’m out,” Annie announced.
“You’re out when the Army says you’re out,” Trace countered.
Anger writhed through Annie’s face, but she said nothing.
“I’m not trying to be a jerk about this, but you signed a legal, binding agreement to serve. You haven’t fulfilled that obligation.”
“If you’re going to hold us to that, then I want to speak to a JAG officer, to determine my rights.” Man, once Annie got fired up, she was like a heat-seeking missile.
“I’ll inform Solomon.” He tried to shrug off his disappointment with Annie. She’d been a very different person and soldier five years ago. Then again…so had he. “For now, bed down. Flight leaves at zero dark thirty.” He headed out of the room, anxious for some air that wasn’t thick as mud and laden with tension.
Where had he gone wrong? Doing everything in his power to protect her—them, and it gets thrown back in his face?
He hustled toward the kitchen area, desperate for a drink.
“Hey.”
A weight on his arm pulled him around, and he found himself facing Annie.
“What was that?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” He extricated himself from her hold and opened the fridge. Orange juice. Apple juice. Skim milk. Soy milk.
The door flapped shut and Annie wedged herself in between him and the metal box. “What is with you pulling that stunt about us being obligated?”
“No stunt. You are.”
“I never expected you to stoop to such a low level and—”
“Since when are you scared, Annie?”
“I’m not scared.”
“Then why are you running?” Trace leaned down into her face. “The Annie I knew would’ve faced this head-on and with a baseball bat. The woman standing in front of me wants to slink back to some isolated community with a slick Navy SEAL and play house.”
“Just because I found someone—”
“Did you? Or were you just desperate for company?”