Close Quarters

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by Lucy Monroe


  “Like hell. We don’t kill innocents.”

  “That we know of.”

  “So, we better make damn sure before you kill your sister-in-law.”

  “She’s not. Technically.”

  “What-the hell-ever.”

  “Our orders are to neutralize the threat,” Neil asserted.

  Roman frowned at his subordinate. “I know what our orders are.”

  Unaffected by Roman’s ire, Spazz continued. “They’re not to kill the woman per se.”

  “No.” Kadin crossed his arms and glared. “According to what you told us, that’s what the Army brass wants.”

  Shit, he did not need this. “We’re under orders from our government.”

  “Exactly,” Neil said.

  Kadin nodded firmly. “Not the Army.”

  The tension in Roman ratcheted several notches higher. “You let your personal feelings get in the way of doing your duty and good men die.”

  “If we don’t, a good woman is going to,” Kadin growled, clearly unimpressed with Roman’s logic.

  Roman knew what his gut was telling him, but he didn’t know if the message was coming from his libido or his instincts as a soldier. He’d wanted Tanya Ruston the first time he saw her and that desire had not gone away. Spending time with her touring the compound had only made it worse.

  He liked her. Damn it. Wanting her was bad enough. How many layers of complications did he need on this assignment?

  “So, what are we going to do, chief?” Trigger demanded. “We going to serve our country or some idiot Army officer who should never have okayed a copy of the JCAT coming to Africa in the first place?”

  “We’re going to find the threat and neutralize it.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Face said from the open doorway to their room. “I thought for a minute I was going to have to go on the run with the babe.”

  Roman’s head snapped up with a sharp jerk. “Hands off, Drew.”

  “Oooh, he means business, he used your real name,” Neil said before jumping out of reach of Roman’s smack to the back of his head.

  “You think our Geronimo is actually human?” Kadin demanded, his voice laced with mocking amazement.

  “Whatever the hell I am, I know how to handle insubordination. You want to keep pushing it?”

  The former MARSOC sergeant just laughed and shook his head. Definitely too much like Roman. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “First, we figure out if she has a copy of the program,” Roman said. “Hiding it is going to be a lot harder here than someplace where technology already has a foothold. The closest Internet access is Harare and as impressive as their cell phone network is for an African nation, they don’t have ready access to mobile browsing either.”

  “So, it has to be on a storage device of some kind.”

  “Exactly and since these buildings have simplified construction, it shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

  “I’ll start with a search on her laptop,” Neil said.

  Roman nodded once. “But you’re going to need to search all the computers in the compound. Security is too loose; she could have it stored somewhere else for safekeeping until she can transport it.”

  “Finding it won’t mean she’s the leak,” Kadin pointed out.

  “It could be someone else in the compound,” Neil agreed.

  “Or no one here at all,” Drew said. “Just because her movements coincide with the transfer of information, doesn’t mean she’s not being set up.”

  “That’s for damn sure,” Kadin grumbled.

  Goddard Project Agent Bennet Vincent drank a cup of surprisingly good coffee as he sat at a table in the dining hall and watched.

  Medical relief workers, security personnel and other non-medical staff came and went in a trickling stream that never seemed to end. None of them looked like spies, but then he didn’t expect them to. He wouldn’t mind if the spy turned out to be Ibeamaka, though.

  The man was smarmy, and his obvious feelings for Dr. Fleur Andikan did not sit well with Ben. No doubt because she so clearly did not return them. She was too lovely and too good to be smarmed by the minor government official.

  Regardless of Ibeamaka’s guilt or innocence, someone here was connected to the leak of proprietary military technology. He just wasn’t sure how or who.

  The data pointed to an inescapable connection between this Sympa-Med compound and the disturbing pattern of technological leakage. There was even circumstantial evidence that indicated Tanya Ruston might well be the leak, but none of the confirmation indicators in her background were there.

  She didn’t live above her means and showed no particular desire for monetary wealth. She’d spent eight of the last ten years living in what would be considered poverty to most Americans, in order to help those she saw in need. She was fiercely loyal to her family, even the parents who disapproved of her career. Her colleagues liked and admired her.

  Besides all that, if Tanna wanted to sell secrets, she’d have easier access and a much safer life doing so back in California. She was related to a brilliant scientist working on cutting-edge technology, who trusted her implicitly.

  In addition to that, his own research indicated the espionage may have started before Tanna had come to work for Sympa-Med. Unfortunately, the data set was too small to make a definitive determination, but his instincts told him that the sister-in-law to his former co-worker was not an international spy.

  And there was still the very real possibility that no spy existed at all, but that American military technology was being traded for access to African oil and minerals. If the leaks were sanctioned by military authorities, heads were going to roll at the Pentagon. Hell, they were going to explode, because once the press got wind of what TGP had discovered, it was going to be a media bloodbath of epic proportions.

  Perhaps because his own father had been both an Army general and a bastard, Ben had an inherent distrust of the military. He wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that Elle’s brother was in his protection detail. Tanna had made it clear she and Roman’s family believed he was a military scientist.

  One thing Ben knew about the Army: They did not send their scientists out into the field to protect State Department bureaucrats. So, Roman was not a scientist. Why lie to his family about it? Maybe he wanted to avoid disappointing them, but what was the man doing leading a security detail? He was higher up in the food chain than that. At his age, with his education and obvious skills, he had to be.

  As far as anyone else knew, Ben was just one of the many bureaucratic cogs in the over-spoked wheel that was Washington, certainly not someone who warranted high-ranking military personnel for his protection detail. The two Marine privates made sense, the other four did not. The privates did not seem to connect with the other four as they did with each other either.

  Add that to the fact that while their camouflage matched the Marines’, the four older soldiers wore no branch insignia or rank indicators. While they all obviously deferred to Roman, there was no way to tell where the others fell in the ranks and that went extremely counter to military culture.

  In addition, Roman had not told his family he would be seeing Beau’s sister. That set off an alarm klaxon in Ben’s mind. No way had Roman not realized he would be seeing Tanna, so what did his oversight mean?

  Ben didn’t believe in coincidences when the data suggested something else entirely. The data undeniably indicated that Roman Chernichenko was not all that he appeared, and most likely his three “unmarked” colleagues were not either.

  With his own experience in covert operations, and with the way the military worked, Ben had no choice but to entertain certain unpleasant possibilities. It was more than a little likely he was not the only member of their party working under cover. If he’d seen the circumstantial evidence against Tanna, others could have too and drawn their own conclusions. Speculation on what the four-man team was doing in Zimbabwe led down a less than pleasant path.


  Ben had never been on an assassination squad, but he had an ugly feeling he’d just found out what one looked like up close and personal.

  Damn, this was a definite wrinkle. He needed to contact the Old Man.

  Elle’s sister-in-law might very well have a military target painted on her forehead.

  CHAPTER THREE

  For the first time since arriving at the Sympa-Med compound, Tanya’s heart raced at the idea of entering the dining hut. And it wasn’t the prospect of eating that was doing it either, but the man she would see.

  She hadn’t been able to get Roman out of her head since he’d left her earlier. Despite plentiful evidence to the contrary, the idea that he might share the attraction would not leave her alone.

  No doubt it was just wishful thinking, but what a wish.

  He and Ben were standing beside a table near the one she and Fleur sat at during mealtimes, and talking to the other men in the security detail.

  Despite the fact that he was in active conversation with the soldier who had introduced himself as Neil, Roman’s gaze caught hers the minute she entered the hut.

  She did her best to give him a casual nod of acknowledgment, but ruined the effect with a blush he no doubt took for some misplaced shyness or embarrassment. It wasn’t though; the heat climbing her neck and into her cheeks was pure, unadulterated arousal.

  Was she going through midlife crisis early, or something? She was only twenty-eight, but something had to explain the way her nipples tightened to hard points every time she saw the man.

  And that wasn’t even taking into consideration the heat between her legs. She’d never had such a physically visceral reaction before. Not to anything. Not fear. Not joy. Definitely not passion.

  It was just a little terrifying.

  Forcing her eyes away from him, she heard Fleur invite Ben to join them at their table for dinner. Roman didn’t wait for an invitation to sit beside Tanya on the bench at the long table. The other men all sat at the table they’d been standing by, seemingly unaffected by their colleague’s desertion.

  Okay, if looking at him affected her, sitting next to him was a stimulation overload. Not only could she smell his subtle masculine scent, but his heat reached out and touched her like a caress to every nerve ending along the side facing him.

  She found herself inhaling deeply to more firmly imprint his scent into her olfactory memory. It was such a primal reaction and she couldn’t help it any more than she could the need to breathe.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, sounding like he knew exactly what was wrong with her.

  She was not a mare in heat, controlled by her body’s urges, no matter how much she might secretly want to be.

  Taking a deep breath, she then let it out slowly, concentrating on getting her voice under control before she spoke. “Of course. Are you settling in all right?”

  He certainly didn’t look like he was suffering jet lag, or culture shock as so many newbies did when arriving in Africa for the first time.

  “No problem.”

  One of the kitchen helpers delivered food to their table.

  Tanya waited until everyone had been served before asking him, “Is this your first trip to Africa?”

  “No.”

  He took a bite of food, showing neither pleasure nor distaste for the traditional local fare.

  It had taken her a while to get used to the lack of spices, or the different spices in most African cooking when she’d first arrived with the Peace Corps.

  When he didn’t clarify his one-word response, she asked, “To Zimbabwe?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s an amazing country.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Don’t you think so?” No matter the drawbacks to life on the original continent, Tanya loved so much about the different African cultures she had experienced. And the ability to experience nature at its most pristine was unparalled. “There is so much unspoiled beauty here, both in the people and the land they inhabit.”

  “And a human-trafficking industry that rivals any other location on earth.”

  She couldn’t deny that, but it was only part of the picture. “The U.S. has its own severe problems with gang-related crime and violent crime overall, not to mention its own human-trafficking issues.”

  “True.”

  “No country is perfect, but the people here are resilient. They live and persist in hoping for the future, despite their troubled political past and present, and a terribly debilitating near eighty percent unemployment rate.”

  “And Victoria Falls is supposed to be one of the most beautiful spots in the world.” The words were right, but the subtle sarcasm lacing them belied his sincerity.

  She shot him a disgruntled frown. “It is, in fact.”

  “You’ve been?”

  “Naturally.” Did he seriously believe she would have lived here for nearly two years and never made the trek? She couldn’t imagine that level of indifference to the beauty the world had to offer.

  It would be one thing if she had no way to travel, but she had both sufficient time and money.

  “I thought you were too busy providing medical help to the needy.” Again with the sarcasm.

  She would have been offended if she didn’t suspect he wasn’t trying to annoy her, but simply reacting as per usual for him. “Even relief workers get personal time.”

  “And you use yours to visit Zimbabwe’s top tourist spots instead of going home to family?” he asked, not sounding condemning, just curious.

  “I do both.”

  “How much longer do you plan to stay in Africa?”

  “My contract with Sympa-Med is up in six months.” She’d thought about taking a year to travel, then going home for an extended visit. “I haven’t decided if I will renew it.”

  “You know I hope you will,” Fleur inserted from across the table.

  Tanya smiled and nodded. “I want to stay in Africa, keep doing what we do, but I think a sabbatical is in order.”

  “Sabbatical?” Roman asked.

  “We can never help everyone who needs us. The AIDS epidemic has a huge hold on the African continent. Children die daily from it, and from malnutrition and malaria, just to name a few of the big diseases. If you have any kind of heart at all, it gets to you. It has to. I want a break, not to leave permanently. But if I don’t take that break, I’ll probably burn out. I’ve seen it before. So, yes, a sabbatical.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t taken one before,” Ben said, his voice warm with admiration and understanding.

  Roman stiffened beside her and gave Ben an impenetrable look. “She spent almost two years Stateside training for her EMT certification.”

  “That was hardly a sabbatical,” Ben said.

  Tanya found herself laughing. “If you knew how much I dislike formal education and sitting in a classroom, you’d realize it was more a test of my endurance.”

  “You passed the test,” Fleur said with approval and a little humor.

  “I did.” Tanya turned to Roman. “Considering the fact you chose a career path that took you out of the lab and into the field,” she said, for lack of a better description, “you probably have more in common with me than either of us know.”

  He looked down at her, his steel-gray eyes trapping her gaze until everyone around them fell away. “We definitely have a few things in common.”

  Oh, man, he didn’t mean that the way it sounded, did he? All that wishful thinking came back with a vengeance. He didn’t want her, not like she wanted him. His every action had made that clear. But the heat burning from his eyes to hers said differently. She felt it all the way to the molten core of herself.

  She barely noticed when Ben left the table to chat for a moment with a couple of the other soldiers on his security team. She was too busy trying not to act on the desire bubbling through her blood like champagne. Delicious and way too heady for a woman used to chemically treated water with her dinner.

  If she di
dn’t get a handle on these feelings, she was going to make a fool of herself. And though Roman would be gone a few weeks from now, the other Sympa-Med workers would not.

  Ben came back and struck up a conversation that brought forth laughter from both Fleur and her daughter, Johari, who had returned from her schooling an hour before dinner. Conversations ebbed and flowed around Tanya, but she was hard-pressed to join in.

  She reeled from that sexually charged moment with Roman and what it could mean. If he returned her attraction, what did she want to do about that?

  She’d regretted not at least attempting to get to know him better at the wedding. She was not into casual sex, but he had fascinated her and she’d allowed a whole host of fears to stop her from even pursuing a friendship. She hated the fact that she was so unwilling to put the most innocuous of her emotions out there. Her fear of rejection made her a coward and that shamed her.

  Her parents’ repudiation of Tanya’s life choices had damaged her deep inside. She felt that she should be able to just ignore the fact she disappointed them so deeply, but she’d never been able to. She could not change who she was, and heaven alone knew she’d tried.

  Tanya had never told anyone, but when she’d gone back to the States to take her EMT training, she’d considered staying. Then the offer from Sympa-Med had come and she’d known she could not deny the part of her that most defined her relationship with the world. Her need was to make a difference for the people who had so little offered to them.

  Her parents weren’t the only ones who did not understand what made Tanya tick. The other Peace Corps volunteers on the soil reclamation project had looked askance at her when she talked about staying in Africa long-term. Especially Quinton. He’d done his stint in the Peace Corps with every intention of returning home to pursue the whole American dream.

  And he’d made it clear he didn’t think she’d fit the other half of the perfect marriage that was supposed to result in the white picket fence and two-point-five children.

  She mentally shook off the harsh memories and focused on her current dilemma. What did a woman who abhored casual sex do when she was desperately attracted to a man who was only a temporary fixture in her world?

 

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