by Ronie Kendig
“Oh,” she said with a vehemence yet a gentleness that snapped something awake in him. “I beg to differ, young man. Your father believed, unequivocally, that Piper was his friend—and your soul mate. He saw it, Colton. Told me he couldn’t be prouder.”
“That was because he didn’t know her, the real her.”
“And who is the real her, Colton? Who is the real us?” She tapped his chest. “You have so many secrets hidden in there Who are you really? Colton, my son? Colton, the Marine? Colton, the cowboy? Tell me—what of your secrets? Your secrets so deadly and horrible that they have you whipped out of your mind at times.”
“That’s not fair, Mom. It’s not the same thing.” Shoulders slumped, he tried to … What use was it? She was right. He was whipped.
“It’s a nightmare, Charles.”
“Yes, but one that’s been brewing for years.”
Olin rounded the desk and leaned against it as they stared out over the bay of the warehouse. “Do you trust her?”
Falde chuckled. “The question is—do you?”
Running his knuckles along the edge of his jaw, Olin watched as Griffin entered the building with Max, both chatting quietly. “What I know is that she brought one of my most impervious, unassailable men to his knees.” Hands on his belt, he let out a long exhale.
“Come now,” Charles said as he pushed out of his chair and joined him at the window. “You cannot blame Lily for one of your men—”
“I can.” Olin snapped his gaze to his old friend. “And I will. These men are the best. The best! If he hesitates … You don’t realize what that man means to this group.”
“You must realize what Lily has been through. She’s a wonderful girl.” His gaze skidded to the floor below.
A brand-new Camaro rolled into the parking bay, and by the time Canyon emerged from his car, the Kid arrived in his luxury SUV.
“They’re all here. Except him.” Would Colton show up?
“You should know, Lily is like a daughter to me. I know her. And this … tragedy has had a horrible toll on her.” Charles turned to him with a sad smile. “For what it’s worth, I know she loves this man.”
“It may be too late for that.” But curiosity gripped Lambert. “How can you be sure?”
“For the last eighteen months, a young girl with no resources save a pittance of an account—”
“Ten thousand dollars is not a pittance.”
“Olin, she opened that account with fifteen thousand. Eighteen months ago.” Brown eyes bore into his. “She has a car, a home—”
“Had. She cashed it all in, remember?”
“Exactly what Yitshak instructed her to do. She must’ve figured out someone was close to finding her.”
“She figured it out a bit late.”
With a conciliatory nod, Charles smiled. “Put aside your protective urges for this man you think she’s harmed so gravely—”
“His father is dead. Killed by a sniper!”
Charles hopped out of the chair, much faster than his rounding belly should’ve allowed. He hurried to Olin and hovered over him. “Look at this with the skilled eyes of a general who commanded thousands, instead of a father pouting over his son.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you see what I see? A twenty-six-year-old woman who thrives on family and friendship, living alone, isolated in a paltry apartment wondering if her father—the reason she’s in exile—is still alive. Or if something she’d said or done has killed him. If her confessing to you has, after all this time, sent her father to his grave and wiped Israel from the map.
“She’s worked hard, kept to herself—survived. Alone for a year and a half. Spent every night and weekend in a lonely apartment, afraid to make a friend or acquaintance who might be an enemy. Never dating or letting someone into her home for fear they might figure out her secret.” His chest rose and fell raggedly.
Olin tried to allow the thoughts, tried to understand the sacrifice. It just seemed so small … but maybe because his first duty was to America. Hers was to Israel. “Pray for the peace of Jerusalem.” He stilled as the scripture sailed through his mind.
“Isolated,” Charles said, his voice a pained whisper. “The concept goes against Lily’s very nature.” He smoothed a hand over his balding dome and returned to his chair. Let out a heavy breath. Then nodded. “What I want is to meet the man who drew my beautiful goddaughter out of that darkness, pushed her to sacrifice everything. Even her father.”
A throaty rumble rattled the rafters of the warehouse, drawing Falde to the window once again.
“You’re about to get your wish.” Relief coursed through Olin as he slid his hands into his pockets, finally feeling a semblance of hope tinge his outlook. “But you may not like it—he does not look happy.”
CHAPTER 18
Dawg if the team wasn’t all here. Colton climbed out of the truck and adjusted the Cattle Baron, bringing the brim lower. Could he conceal what he felt if the hat shielded his eyes? When he shut the door, he spotted the silver Lexus SUV the Kid drove. Then Midas’s shiny new sports car. The black Escalade. The motorcycle.
He paused, hand on the door of his truck. Considered getting back in and leaving town. Never looking back. All he wanted right now was to beeline it to Lambert’s hovel on the second floor and do what he came to do. Weren’t no good way, so he’d just do it and be done with it.
Instead … he was going to have to face the team.
As soon as he stepped into the main bay, a small crowd formed. Griffin. Max. Midas. They greeted him, their welcomes somber. But they didn’t bring up the attack. For that he was glad.
He glanced up at the dingy window. “What’s with the AHOD?”
A strange, knowing look drifted over Griffin’s face, but then he shrugged. “He’s been up there since I got here.”
A cackling laugh rattled Colton’s nerves as the Kid entered. “Man, it is good to be back in action.” He clapped his hands twice and rushed toward them looking every bit the eager, uniformed beaver.
Colton stepped back, eyeing the stairs … the window … the stairs. “Hey, I—”
Thunk!
The echo of a slamming door snatched Colton’s words and attention. He spun—froze.
His gaze rammed into Piper. She stood at an office door with Dr.
Avery and two guards. A smile that moments ago had lightened Piper’s face vanished like a phantom, leaving a pale hue to her normally tawny face. Her lips hung apart as they stared at each other, until finally her gaze fell.
Aches tore through Colton. Anger over his father’s death. Anger over her lies and deception.
“Whoa!” The Kid whistled. “Who’s the babe?”
Colton whipped toward the runt and glowered.
Max shifted toward Marshall. “You really gotta learn when to stow it.”
“What?” Ignorant as always, the Kid raised his hand toward Piper. “Look at her. She’s got supermodel written all over her. She’s hot!”
With a fist, Max backhanded the Kid’s chest.
The look of pain exploded over Marshall’s face. “Hey! I was shot there.”
“Yeah,” Max said as he grabbed the Kid’s leather jacket and shoved him toward a huddle of tables and chairs that served as the conference table. “Well, I’m gonna shoot you somewhere else if you don’t clamp that mouth.”
Griffin grinned. “I think I’ll help.” He and Midas sauntered over to the table, each popping the Kid on the back of the head and eliciting more objections and curses.
Colton would’ve laughed. But considering what he’d come here to do … he realized how much he’d miss the guys. Their friendship. The camaraderie.
Clicking heels warned of the ladies’ approach from behind.
Shoulders burning with tension, Colton held his ground, afraid if he moved he’d lose control. Lose himself.
Closer still …
God… why? Why are You doing this to me?
“Cowboy?” Dr. Avery’s soft voice flitted into his mind.
A warm touch to his arm. “Are you okay?”
Though he hadn’t looked, he knew Piper was there. He could smell her—that unique light, floral scent that was everything Piper. Muscles trembling, he worked to open his eyes. “Doctor.” The stiff, barely formed word ground from between his lips, but his gaze wasn’t on the team psychiatrist. It was riveted to the woman who’d shaken the foundation of his life.
In his periphery, he saw Dr. Avery draw back, her eyes revealing surprise at his greeting as she turned toward Piper with a protective touch.
“Why are you here?” Colton asked Piper. She should’ve been arrested. Removed from here, from his life. Whatever the story, it couldn’t be good or legal. She should be behind bars.
Two men emerged from the stairwell, snapping Colton’s attention away from Piper. He watched as the general approached with another man.
“Please have a seat, gentlemen. We have little time and much to discuss.” The general’s voice boomed through the large warehouse. Specifically, he turned to Colton. “Please, join us.”
He should finish this now. Like he intended. “General, I need to talk to you.”
“I know.” Kind, aged eyes met his. “But first—you’ll have to hear me out.” The smile kneaded Colton’s frustration, but also forced him to acquiesce.
With a nod, he moved to the conference area. Instead of sitting, he leaned against a small, apartment-style fridge.
What bothered him, though, was the way Lambert guided Piper to the grouping as though she was a prize, an asset.
“Gentlemen, a lot has transpired in the last thirty hours.”
And expired.
Like my dad.
“Our deepest regret is that our own Cowboy has lost his father.”
Silence gaped loud and screaming, with each inch of space between Colton and heaven feeling like a lifetime of pain and heartache.
“Unfortunately, we do not have time to grieve.” Olin’s expression quickly grew grim. “I need you to hear from this young lady.”
Tension coiled around his gut like a rattler ready to strike. Listen to Piper? He was supposed to shove aside his own grief to listen to her? What happened to team loyalty?
Olin nodded to her. “Please.” He stepped aside as he motioned for her to stand before the group.
“You’ve got my attention,” the Kid mused.
Colton experienced a puny amount of justice when Max popped the Kid’s head again and Griffin growled for their youngest team member to shut up.
Arms folded over his chest, Colton lowered his chin. He didn’t want to hear what she had to say. His heart careened through his chest and into his stomach like the chopper that had been taken down by the Black Hawk.
“My name is Kelila Liora Rosenblum.”
Colton closed his eyes. Kel-what? Did he really not even know her real name?
“My father is Yitshak Rosenblum of the National Security Studies Institute.”
“Come again?” Max’s question drew Colton’s gaze.
She wet her lips—and Colton nearly cursed as the moment of their kiss blasted his memory banks. “It’s based out of Tel Aviv, an independent academic institute that studies key issues relating to Israel’s national security and Middle East affairs.”
Israel? Middle East. That had the makings of some serious trouble. Colton let his gaze skip along the cracks in the cement as he pondered that news.
“Israel,” Max echoed Colton’s thoughts. “As in Jews, Temple of the Mount, Jesus, and all that?”
“Please,” Lambert cut in. “I know you will all have many questions, but let Miss Rosenblum finish. Our time is very short.”
Time short meant a mission. A mission related to what Piper was saying?
Heart disengaged, he allowed his decision to take root—become as hard and firm as the building’s foundation beneath his feet.
“Go ahead, Miss Rosenblum,” Lambert said.
Her soft voice drifted into the stale warehouse air. “In March of last year, my father stumbled upon a plot against our homeland—”
“Israel.” Griffin’s voice boomed.
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I—I don’t know the details, but what he found terrified him. He spent every minute at the university for months, trying to unravel whatever it was. Then, one night, he flew into the house, shouting, yelling at me to pack my things at once.”
The swelling emotion in her words drew Colton’s unwilling gaze up—and found hers pinned on him. She continued as she looked into his eyes, “My father rushed me out of the house, into a waiting cab. En route to the train station, he hurriedly explained that there were forces so powerful behind what he’d found that he was certain they would kill us before he could unravel it all and stop them.”
Was this supposed to make him feel sympathy or something? Sadly, he reckoned it did, but he stomped the butterfly flitting across his conscience and killed it.
She tucked her chin and skirted a look at the general. “In fact, he believed that is how my brother died—somehow he was connected.” She shrugged, and though he wasn’t sure, he thought he saw tears. “He said he was going into hiding, and that I must go to America and never tell anyone who I was.”
“Why is he hiding?” Griffin asked.
Piper’s shoulders slowly lifted, then dropped. “I don’t know.”
“No, I’m asking—why hide? Why not report whatever this was or tell someone?”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Max was on his feet, knuckling the table as he stared down at it.
Surprised, Colton’s attention shifted to Max and the deep, familiar scowl on the man’s face. Not happy. Didn’t seem to be buying Piper’s tale.
“You’re standing there, one day after skilled killers descend on my friend’s home, kill his father, blow up his home, nearly kill me and the others …” Max looked around the room. Then his left eye narrowed. “And you won’t tell us what your father found? Do we look stupid?”
Colton considered Piper, watched her flick a nervous glance to the general, then Colton, then back to Max.
Max looked to Lambert. “We’re already down one man. And if I’m right, there’s a mission around this woman’s story. A half-cocked story. I won’t let the team go into something like this without full disclosure. If she won’t talk, then we walk.”
Hands at her side, Piper took a step forward. “I can postulate. That’s all.”
Midas slumped back against his chair. “Then let’s postulate!”
“My father was working on a project that would aide Israel in protecting itself against nuclear weapons and threats. NSSI’s purpose is to find ways, through negotiations and other such means, to secure the hope, peace, and safety of Israel. For that reason, I have no indication of what he found or who was implicated.”
“What reason?” The incredulous pitch of Griffin’s voice echoed Colton’s disbelief.
“The safety of Israel. He was very cautious about what he shared or revealed. Most of his work revolved around intelligence only the highest officials in Israel had access to.”
“So he had a full security clearance?” Midas asked.
“Yes. Understand that NSSI employees—they’re all peace-loving men.” Something flickered in her expression, and her gaze surfed over the team. “Or so we thought.”
“Gentlemen,” Olin Lambert stepped from the side. “I understand your misgivings, but we are dealing with a very lethal threat.”
“You believe her?” Max asked, his tone incredulous.
“I do. In fact, I have data that supports everything Miss Rosenblum has mentioned and much more. While I can’t go into detail at this time, I ask you to trust me on this one.” Olin motioned to the man next to him. “This is Representative Charles Falde, the chair of the Congressional Foreign Affairs Committee. Together, we have assembled a plan to enter Israeli territory and retrieve her father.”
That was his cue.
Colton hopped off the fridge, retrieved the key from his pocket, and cro
ssed the room. He bent over the table directly in front of Lambert, met the old man’s gaze unwaveringly, and placed the key on the cold surface. “I’m out.”
Shock pinned Piper to the floor. That and a healthy dose of rejection. Even though she knew he’d never speak to her again, she’d never expected him to walk out on a mission. Wasn’t he the consummate solider, one everyone depended on?
Her gaze skated over the rest of the men gathered around the table. A sinking and sickening feeling washed through her as she took in their expressions. Reddened and severe, Max’s face screamed his anger—and she swallowed as she rushed to the next, the large man they called Legend. Unreadable, he sat staring straight ahead, his fist to his mouth. Midas had his lips pulled to the side, as if he’d chewed his lip in deep thought.
The youngest team member just winked at her.
And one by one, they stood up and left the room. Heart in her throat, she fought against the urge to whimper. She shifted to Dr. Avery, whose compassionate smile also carried a tinge of disappointment and sorrow. “W–what’s going on?” Piper hurried to the general. “Are they …?” She couldn’t even say it. Couldn’t ask if they were quitting, too.
Hand on Piper’s upper arm, the general offered a smile. “Let’s take a short break.”
“Please tell me they’re going to help my father.”
With a quick nod to the two guards and without answering her plea, he delivered her into their care.
Inside the room, she twisted toward the door to talk to Dr. Avery. But instead of the warm, caring doctor, she got the cold, hard door. It slammed. Locks clicked.
Piper spun and looked around the room. She slumped into a chair, buried her hands in her face, and sobbed. All her courage, all her hope, all that she had mustered to face Colton and the team bottomed out. Rushed out of her like a waterfall, dragging out her tears and despair. Hours slipped into the desolation of loneliness. What would she do now? The team had abandoned her, which meant whatever had happened to her father—she had no way of finding him or attempting to make him safe. If the terrorists had found her, they could find her father. Right?