by Ronie Kendig
Weird. Why would he care what some chick thought? He never had before.
Yeah, and you’ve never tried to soften up a woman since your life wrecked.
Man, his head felt like someone drove a tent stake through it. What happened? Maybe it was just all the excitement of the night. Or that collision with the chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Great job,” Jibril said as the crowd petered out. “You’re a natural.” His smile rivaled the lights on the stage. “I knew I picked the right man.”
“Thanks. Hey, have you seen—?”
“Your Chinese friend?”
Heath jerked, stunned.
“I saw you two talking before the show.” Smoothing his beard, Jibril studied him. “Is she stationed here?”
Heath clipped Trinity’s lead on. “She’s not military. Civilian with military contract to scout for minerals. She’s leaving in the morning.”
“I am sorry,” Jibril said, his expression somber. “I saw her leave about halfway through your presentation.”
“Oh.” What did that mean? “Maybe she got a call.”
“It is possible.” Jibril patted his shoulder. “Are you okay? Your head is hurting?”
“Just too much excitement, I guess.”
Jibril looked unconvinced. “This has been a long but good day. Now, I must rest. We head south tomorrow, so be sure to rest up. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Right. Okay.” But Heath’s brain cells were engaged on wondering why Jia had left.
He tugged Trinity’s lead toward the tents where contractors bunked. Maybe Jia wasn’t feeling well. As he stared down what looked like an endless row of tents, he realized the futility of his personal mission.
Gutting up the disappointment, he headed for his own tent. He rounded a corner and almost stopped, but his old training kicked in and kept him moving. Jia stood with a general, hovering in deep conversation. Jia, a contractor with a geology team. With a general. He’d like to hear the explanation for that.
The general’s face darkened beneath the large, powerful lamps that shattered darkness in the compound. He stabbed a finger at her, his voice loud but unintelligible.
What’s up with that?
Trinity pulled taut, watching the showdown, too. Heath didn’t like it, and apparently Trinity didn’t either. She stopped short, as if she’d gotten a hit—on Jia. Good thing he’d tethered her, or Trinity would’ve taken off.
“Trinity, come.”
Jia glanced over her shoulder and saw him. She said something to the general, then walked toward Heath. She let out a long sigh as she approached. “Sorry I missed the last part of your presentation.”
Heath shrugged. “No worries.” He nodded to the general who disappeared into the command building. “What’s with that? He looked ticked.”
“They’re giving us grief over our paperwork again. And I think Dr. Colsen, who’s the lead geologist, is being less than gracious—again.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “So, still up for that walk?”
“Absolutely.” Heath headed toward the canine practice field, knowing they’d have the area to themselves. But her story didn’t sit straight with him. Why would the military hassle them over paperwork if the team already had been here for three weeks? And why did she seem buttery-sweet all of a sudden?
What was she trying to divert his attention from?
Seven
Copper Mine, Jalrez Valley
Wardak Province, Afghanistan
Hear no evil, speak no evil, do no evil.
Carved out of stone, the statue before him epitomized the old proverb, since its head and hands had crumbled and disappeared with time beneath the harsh elements in which its temple sat. And yet, some might think the armless and headless condition of the statue indicated the broken power of the gods.
To the left, another broken stone figure stood on the other side of an entrance. Through that opening lay the mine China had begun to excavate copper from. Frustrating China, the mine bore the great tragedy of being situated at a 2,600-year-old Buddhist temple. What should have been a quick insertion of Chinese progress through mining ore morphed into a nightmare in preserving the reputation of the People’s Republic of China by protecting the Afghans’ history through archaeology.
Colonel Zheng Haur glanced once more at the crumbling relics. Was it a bad omen?
“So much for the power of their god.” Captain Bai smirked.
“No god has power. Only man.” How many times had General Zheng said that?
“Colonel.” A Chinese lieutenant rushed into the open. The sun struck him as if illuminating his presence. Was that a sign as well—was a god shining on this man who saluted him? “I did not know you were coming. What can I—?”
“I am here to speak with Colonel Wu.” Haur kept his focus like steel.
The man’s gaze darted around the area as he frowned. “I … so sorry, sir. But the colonel left a week ago.”
Cold spread across Haur’s shoulders. “What do you mean he left?” The orders given to Jianyu had been to remain here till the general sent for him. “His orders were to oversee this mine.”
The man nodded and half bowed. “Yes, sir, but he said he was recalled to China.”
Haur raised his gaze once more to the stone god. What secrets lay beneath his lap besides archaeological finds? Did Jianyu send this errand boy up here to deceive Haur?
He glanced to his left, where Captain Bai stood ready. The look in the eyes of the man he’d trained and worked with bespoke the suspicion Haur felt. “Search it.”
In Chinese, the captain shouted, “Search it!”
A dozen men climbed out of the deuce-and-a-half and trotted through the narrow opening with their weapons in hand.
“You will not find him, Colonel. He is not here.” The man shifted nervously. “Please—this site is very old. Your soldiers will disturb the relics and archaeologists.”
“We respect your work here, but we have our orders.” Haur considered the implications if Jianyu actually had left.
As Haur’s men returned to the truck, tension rose.
“When did Colonel Wu leave?”
“I told you, one week—”
Impatience snapped through Haur. “Date? Time? What direction?”
The lieutenant cowered. “I … I don’t—”
Captain Bai lunged. “Do not—”
“No!” Haur held up a hand to his captain, then redirected his focus on the lieutenant. “A week ago. Was it Thursday? Or Friday—right before the holiday?” Chinese New Year had always been important to Jianyu.
The man’s eyes widened. “Yes, yes. He said he was going home just in time to celebrate with his father.”
Haur studied the man. There was more to this story, but whether the old man knew it or not was another thing. “Morning or evening?”
“As soon as the sky lightened.”
“Let us both hope you are telling the truth.” Haur would prefer that this man was not telling the truth, because the implications were too great otherwise. If Wu Jianyu was not here, where was he? What was he doing? And with a group of China’s elite, the Yanjingshe warriors?
Haur returned to the Lexus SUV and closed the door. He pulled out his phone and dialed. When it connected he said, “General Zheng, he is not here.”
The long pause stretched painfully. “Explain.”
“Jianyu left a week ago. He told the miners you called him back.”
Silence choked the connection, but as the car pulled over the dirt road, Haur thought he heard hard breathing. No doubt his brother had yet again disappointed the general. He ached for the pain that stretched through the silence. “Should I return—?”
“Find him!”
Haur’s chest tightened at the rage in the general’s voice. “Find him and bring him back to me.”
“Of course.” Haur ended the call and slid the phone back into his pocket. Hand fisted, he pressed it to his mouth and propped his elbow
on the window ledge. Staring out over the rugged landscape, he probed the possibilities of where Jianyu had gone. What intention did he have in this game he had begun?
Watching Jianyu collapse beneath the weight of the general’s scorn after the spy had been discovered—
Haur diverted his gaze. Even though the incident was in the past, the general refused to discuss the breach and the records had been sealed. Beyond their building at Taipei City, nobody knew of the American spy who had penetrated their so-called secure and advanced systems.
And Jianyu’s heart. Something Haur never thought possible. He had wished to have met this spy, the one who broke his brother.
Since the day she had fled back from wherever she had come, Jianyu had become a stranger. His father refused to speak to him. Refused to acknowledge he had a biological son. In the last thirty-six months, son became a term applied not to Jianyu but to Haur.
And Jianyu despised him for it.
“This is bad. Here, so close to American and British soldiers …”
Plucked from the past, Haur nodded at Captain Bai.
“The general will kill him.”
The words hung ominous and true. There was no wrath like that of the enraged General Zheng. Ruthlessly powerful. Yet … so gentle and kind—to Haur.
“What do you think he is doing?”
There could only be one reason for Jianyu’s disappearance: He wanted to restore his name and honor to his family. To do that, he would of course need some great plan to win his father back. “Whatever he is planning, it is not good.”
“Where should we start?”
A glint in the sky lured his attention back out the window. Two small, dark shapes glided along the horizon. Black Hawks. Americans.
Inspiration floated down from those helicopters. Haur straightened. “There. Stop.” He pointed to a clearing and snatched the GPS from the dash. As the plan congealed in his mind, so did a horrible certainty.
To see it through, he would not live.
Bagram AFB, Afghanistan
Conversation with Heath had been easy and comfortable. More than it had ever been with any other man besides her father. Hands stuffed in the pockets of her North Face jacket, Darci eyed the man. About six-two, well-built, sandy blond hair cropped short. The guy had a subtle charm that drew its strength not from a cocky attitude, as she’d seen in other men like Jianyu, but a quiet presence that ensnared her curiosity worse than heat-seeking missiles to infrared radiation.
Now he jogged the course with Trinity, leading her up, over, and through the various obstacles. The Belgian Malinois moved with grace and speed, at ease as if she did it every day.
It wasn’t Darci’s smartest move, seeking him out. Researching him. The whole thing just made her ache. As an operative, she couldn’t have the kind of life she dreamed about. A husband, two-point-five kids, and a house in a suburban location.
Even if she could, she didn’t deserve it. Not after what she’d done. Not after what her father had done. Darci wrapped her fingers around the cold wire of the chain link, as if holding on to that would somehow enable her to hold on to her dream. Hadn’t she spent the last eight years working to regain some honor for her family, for her father? He couldn’t have stopped her mother’s death. Darci wasn’t angry at him. She just wished things could’ve been … different.
A thunderous clap snapped her attention back to Heath.
He and Trinity trotted back into the triangle of light from the lone field lamp. Heath slowed, his feet dragging on the hard-packed ground as he rubbed his temple. But then, as if he hadn’t just looked like he was in pain, he lifted the ball and in a fluid move spun around and threw it back into the darkness. Arm swinging around, Heath’s gaze locked onto Darci.
Trinity burst after the ball.
As he came toward her, Heath gave a smile that warmed her all the way to her toes. It was more than a friendly hello smile. It was one that showed pleasure in her presence, pleasure that she’d come to him.
“Bored?”
“Tired,” she said as she joined him, leaning against the fence. “It’s been a long day.”
“I’m sure the general’s tirade took its toll.”
Darci preferred to keep that conversation tucked away. “So, you said you head out for another base?”
“Yep. We’ll head out around sixteen hundred tomorrow.” He clapped at Trinity, who trotted back into the light in a lazy run and pranced around them, as if to taunt them with “Ha! I caught the ball.” She dropped it at Darci’s feet.
Wow, wasn’t that like breaking some dog-handler code? Darci checked with Heath. “May I?”
Another approving smile shaded his jaw in the uneven lighting. “Sure, I’ll deal with the traitor later.”
She lifted the slobbery ball from the ground, took a practice step, then sent it sailing through the air.
“Whoa! Nice arm. Where’d you learn that?”
Reveling in his praise, Darci turned as Heath moved away from the fence, stunned. “I played softball in high school and college. Shortstop.”
His gaze skated over her with an appreciative nod. “Remind me to never get in your line of fire.”
Darci laughed. When was the last time someone made her feel this special? Probably too long, but there wasn’t anything to lose here. They would go in opposite directions soon, so no loss, no gain. Well, maybe a small gain. When she was out in the mountains, she could remember Heath’s smile. Or the way the sinews in his arms rippled as he threw the ball for Trinity. Or his approving smile. Fantasize that he was the man filling the role that could never happen—husband.
Okay, way too weird.
She needed to be careful. There were certain pieces of classified info that would tank any chance at a relationship—not that there was one …
The slower pace of the last twenty-four hours and being with Heath kneaded out some of the kinks in her neck and shoulders. Trinity returned, made her way to the trough, and dropped her ball in the water, then lapped up some refreshment.
“So, you going to tell me?”
They both started toward the gate as if communicating on some hidden signal. The camp had quieted but still bustled with activity as was the MO during wartime operations.
Darci wrinkled her brow as he linked up with Trinity. “Tell you what?”
At five-ten, she appreciated the height on Heath. And his soulful gray eyes. The almost bashful way he behaved.
Hands in his pockets, the lead looped around his wrist, he looked down at her as they walked across the camp. “Whatever it is you’re not telling me.”
Ouch. Never think a Green Beret is bashful. They were trained to ferret out inconsistencies and get to the heart of the matter. But this was a matter and a heart he couldn’t intrude upon. Not this time. As much as she’d wished otherwise.
As her tent came into view, she slowed, then turned to him. “You were a Green Beret long enough to know if I’m not telling you, then I can’t.” Why did she go and say that?
“Thought so.” His gaze raked the blackened sky, disappointment lurking in his eyes.
Time to cut this rendezvous short before she gave in. “Look, it’s been nice hanging out with you. Talking. But …” She hated this part. But it was necessary. Wasn’t it? “You’re going on tour, and I’m going into the mountains.” She shrugged and shook her head. “Let’s not ruin a great friendship with complications.”
Despite the creaking of axles and rumbling engines and shouts, the only sound she heard around them was the rhythmic panting of his dog. Though she looked up to read his emotions, she stopped at the one that affected her the most: hurt. It was hard to remember that hardened grunts like him could have soft hearts.
“Complications.” He pursed his lips, his chin dimpling. “Right. Yeah.” With a quiet, disgusted snort, Heath caught the lead and drew Trinity up. “Well, good night—and good-bye—Jia.” He did not wear disappointment well. In fact, it weighted his shoulders. “Hope things go well for y
ou.”
She’d taken the abrasive, aggressive road of telling him they’d never see each other again, and he wished her well. He the hero, she the villain. As his form hulked through the darkness, Darci told herself to stay put. Or better yet—go into the tent.
Instead, her feet carried her after the war-dog team. It took a stretch, but she caught his arm. “Hey, wait.”
In a lightning fast move, Heath spun around, his eyes bright beneath the floodlight as he flipped their grips so his hand wrapped around her wrist.
Frozen in time and shock, she stared up at him as his fingers slid along her forearm, then back to her wrist until he entwined his fingers with hers. He grinned down at her. “Thought so.”
Stunned, Darci mentally pushed him back … a dozen feet. But she clung to the husky words. Two simple words that outted her. Strangest thing was, she didn’t mind.
Standing toe-to-toe with him did crazy things to her stomach. Though she couldn’t resist, she should stop staring at their intertwined hands. She’d never reacted like this with a guy. And in those time-warped seconds with their gazes locked, it dawned on her that he’d known she wasn’t immune to his charm.
“Just give me a chance, Jia.”
Oh, but she didn’t like that name on his lips. Darci. She wanted him to call her Darci. “To what?”
His gaze darted around her face, as if studying a political map. “To prove I’m not like whoever hurt you so bad.”
Beneath the teasing caress of his husky works, her brain caught up with her stupidity. She freed her hand and swallowed—hard. “It won’t work.” She wanted to punch him. How had he gotten through her defensive perimeter?
He smirked. “You haven’t tried yet.”
“Look, it’s not that I don’t want to …”
“Hey. I’m interested. You’re interested, but …” Heath shrugged, his high-powered smile gleaming as he held up his hands as if in surrender. “I won’t beg.”