by Geri Foster
Without advance warning, shells started exploding outside the building, then moved closer to the terrorist. Qamar ducked, looking around for an escape. In the confusion, Rye grabbed him around the chest and squeezed him as tight as he could. The rifle fell from the terrorist’s hand to the floor. At the same time Rye’s men jumped into action, taking out his men.
When everything finally settled, Rye waved his hands in the air knowing that the helicopter pilot outside saw him and would know to stop firing. He’d have to shake the guy’s hand. He had some kind of perfect timing.
“Are you okay, Harper?” Rye asked.
Her hands were trembling. “I’m okay.” She walked over to Qamar, who Rye had kneeling down in front of him, and smacked him in the face. “How in the hell did you know about the money for the hostages? How did you know what was here?”
“Good question,” Rye asked. “Who told you about it?
“I talked to Karzi. He told me about the money.”
Rye smacked him in the face with a gun. “Now try telling me the truth, because Karzi is dead.” Rye thumped himself on the chest. “I killed him. There’s no way in hell he told you anything.” He shoved the gun beneath his chin. “How did you know about the hostage money?”
The Marines came in to escort them out of the building. Harper stayed inside to make an evaluation on whether to wipe out the intel equipment with explosives or if there were things there to be salvaged.
She came out carrying a canvas bag and handed it to Rye. Qamar followed her every move, his eyes hungry.
“Yes, that’s the money,” she said, with a satisfied smile. “That’s what you came for, but it’s not what you’re going to walk away with.”
As Harper went to return to the Comm Room, Qamar whirled around with a knife and lunged toward her. Rye shot him twice in the head. Qamar fell to the ground.
Harper screamed and grabbed her ears. “Oh my God, what happened?”
“He was going to kill you,” said one of the Marines. “Luckily your guy reacted quicker.”
Rye looked at her. “Me and my guys are going to go in and see if we can find some clothes and anything else that belongs to us. I don’t care what you do with this building but we’re heading back to the States. You can stay here, or you can go with us.”
“I can’t right now. Everything has to be secure. That’s my job.”
Rye and his men went into their sleeping quarters and found clothes and personal items. It took him thirty minutes to find his socks. Satisfied to have clothes and shoes on, he went back into the main room. He, Roper, Rebel and Comrade would go back with the Marines to Kandahar Airbase then fly out of there.
His mission in Afghanistan was complete. He had rescued the hostages and he had taken out Qamar. Great ending.
Harper had so much to do, she barely realized Rye had gone. Only when she looked for him did she realize only she and five Marines were left behind to clean up the mess. Rye had already left for the States, with barely a goodbye.
She went over all the secure information they had. Much of it had to be destroyed, some had to be couriered back to Washington, much of it could no longer be used. But she had to disable everything. She envied Rye for going home. As she looked around at the mess, Harper realized it was time she went home too.
Much of her thirty eight years had been spent in the Middle East. And she had all of it she wanted. It would take her a couple of days to get everything in order, then she would go back and be debriefed. Maybe then she’d decide to take that cushiony job Silas kept teasing her about, or else she’d retire. Regardless, this part of her life ended when they boarded the plane back to the States.
Looking at the mess in front of her made retiring something she looked forward to. The CIA had been great to her, but mostly because she’d never married and didn’t mind staying in the Middle East. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d still have been so valuable if she’d requested a stateside assignment.
Nevertheless, it was time she left and started her own life. Not one dictated to her by the CIA. At the same time, a strong sadness came over her at the loss of Rye. If only they’d managed to straighten things out before he left. Instead, they’d left so much unsettled between them.
Chapter Sixteen
Rye had just turned on the lights in his cabin when his cell went off. He answered to find Harper on the other end. “I’ve been meaning to call,” he tried to make an excuse. “But——”
“I understand,” she replied, the sadness in her voice heavy and hollow. “You’ve been busy.”
How in the hell could he use that excuse when he’d been sitting on his ass at the beach doing nothing but thinking of her and wondering where she was and what she was doing. “I won’t lie to you, Harper. I just didn’t know what to say.”
“I guess saying you’re sorry for not trusting me never occurred to you?”
“Listen, I still need answers from over there, but I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me or my Team.”
“So why the cold shoulder?”
“I don’t know. There’s just so much going on.”
“Does that offer to visit your beach in Florida still hold?”
His heart sped up and he found it hard to swallow. Would she really consider coming here to see him? Nah, she was just yanking his chain.
He decided to call her bluff. “You betcha. Come anytime you want.”
“Good,” she replied sounding rather chipper. “I’m glad you don’t mind.”
A knock sounded at the door. “Hold on, there’s someone at the door.” He looked out and Harper stood on his porch wearing a yellow sun dress, sandals and a big straw hat. Her hair hung loose to her shoulders. Surprised, he shook his head, turned the knob and almost lost his breath as he took in her beauty.
He staggered back a few feet. “I didn’t know you were this close.”
She lowered her gaze, her cheeks reddened. “I hope you don’t mind.”
He spread out his arms and swung open the screen. “Of course not. I’m glad to see you.”
She timidly stepped inside, her small suitcase gripped by both hands. “I feared if I called first, you’d say no.”
He took her suitcase and put it in the tiny bedroom. He placed it just inside the room then glanced at her. He’d never felt so uneasy around her. Like they were strangers, yet he clearly remembered their past.
He slid his palms into the back pockets of his tattered jeans and stared, completely aware that he was just as cautious as she was. She hadn’t moved an inch from the front door.
“I wouldn’t have said no. I invited you, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but we parted on such uncertain terms, I didn’t know if I was still welcome.”
He moved closer. “You bet you are.” He smiled, remembering all the fun they had together. “I’m glad you’re here, Harper.” He spread out his hands. “As you can see, it’s not the Hilton.”
Her eyes touched on everything and a wide smile spread her lips. “I think it’s quaint. You look more at home here than in uniform on an assignment.”
He chuckled. “Really? It took me the longest time to get over getting up every day and putting on my camos.”
She glanced down, spread out the sides of her skirt then lifted her lashes. “You’ve never seen me dressed like this.”
“No,” he shook his head, hoping to hide his surging desire. Uncertainty and awkwardness had him coming up with off the wall things to say. “No, I never have. It was mostly black slacks, and long sleeved tees. You were always cold.”
“Maybe Florida will cure me of that.”
Rye whisked a bead of sweat from his eyebrow as they stood staring at each other like strangers in a foreign location. God, he wished the lines between them were clearly drawn.
“Harper, come in, sit down and let’s have a beer. We can’t stand in the middle of the room like two awkward teenagers.”
She placed her purse on a nearby table and moved further into the r
oom until she came to a wicker chair. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her long lashes highlighting her blue eyes. “Can I sit here?”
“Sure,” he said, then turned toward the kitchen. “Do you need a glass?” he called out.
“No, thanks.”
He should’ve remembered that. She worked and lived with alpha males. If she’d used a glass, they would have razzed her to no end.
He came back in to see her sitting in his favorite chair, her tanned legs shiny and well formed. He’d never thought of her as being so feminine, then again how could he when in their line of work, they dealt with the worst of humanity?
He eased into a chair across the small room from her, still able to capture her delicate scent. The flowery aroma kicked up his testosterone higher than if she were sitting there naked.
“Did you go home?” he asked, wondering when he’d run out of questions. “See your folks?
“Yes, I did and it was great but I wanted to come to Florida and see you. I want to find out if there is really something between us or if we were just playing games to divert our attention from the war. Did our proximity cause us to be intimate, or did we really care for each other? I want those answers before I go forward.”
“Go forward to where?”
She shrugged but there wasn’t anything casual about her posture. No, Harper, the amazing CIA Asset, appeared more serious than he’d ever seen her before.
“Retire or take that job with the Pentagon,” she said.
He leaned back and relaxed. “Oh, I see.” He slapped his thigh and grinned. “Take the retirement. Many in our line of business never get the opportunity.”
Her eyes traced over his little cabin. “This seems to be the ideal life for you.”
“It is. I’ve fought my share of battles. I don’t want it anymore.”
“Well then you’re not going to like what I have to say next.”
He propped his elbows on his knees. “What?”
“You asked if I’d seen my family.”
He nodded waiting for the rest of the story. “Yeah.”
“I was also summoned to Silas’s office. I just left there two days ago.”
“Really?” Rye cocked his head and wrinkled his brow. “What did he want?” He came to his feet and paced the floor. “I hope you’re not going on another mission.”
“No, he wants to know what happened to the money.” Silence filled the cabin along with suspicion and the unknown.
Chapter Seventeen
Harper took a sip of her beer, her eyes never leaving Rye. In all the years she’d known him, he never looked so good. But after talking to Silas, she had to wonder.
“What money?” he asked, his brows furrowed. “The money from Qamar or the hostage money?”
“The hostage money.”
He stopped pacing and glanced at the ceiling, deep in thought. “You know, I never saw that money.” He sat back down, staring across the room at her. “I never actually saw any money. You said you had the money from the poppy fields and I knew the State Department was sending the hostage money, but I didn’t lay eyes on it.”
“I didn’t think you had,” she said softly. Could it ever be that simple?
“Didn’t you send everything back here?” he asked, his eyes curious.
“I thought I did, but when the courier bag arrived it was full of shredded paper. Someone took the money.”
“Did you count it when you got it? Make sure it was all there?”
“That wasn’t my job, Rye. Sully was the person in charge of that money. He had access to it, so I left that to him. After all, he signed off on it.”
“Yet it was your job to get it stateside?”
“I never did anything but send it back.” She spread out her arms. “Look at me, if I had untold millions of dollars would I be sitting here drinking a beer? I’d be on some island with a non-extradition treaty.” She pointed at him. “So would you.”
He thought for a few minutes then nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t hang around here, that’s for sure.” His sharp eyes seemed to drill into her. “Do you think Sully took it?”
She shrugged. “Who else?”
Rye shook his head. “Would he do that knowing how easy it is to follow the money?”
“He’d have to be a damn fool.” She took a sip then added, “However, it’s a long ways from Kandahar to Washington, isn’t it?”
Rye pinched his lower lip. “What does Crash say?”
“He’s not happy. And it looks bad on his new department. Remember he sent you and Sully there.”
“The CIA sent you, right?”
She raised her hands in surrender. “I took a polygraph and that seemed to satisfy Silas. But, you and I both know he’s no doubt checked us both out.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure what to think of all this. When I got back I sent him a written report about everything I did over there and haven’t heard a word in return.”
She laughed. “Oh, you will. He said he’d be talking to you.”
Rye brushed it off. “It’s all crickets around here.”
Harper put her beer down and stood. “Until then, I’d love to see that ocean you kept talking about.”
He stood and met her in the middle of the floor. “Are you hungry?”
She nodded. “I could eat.”
“There’s a little diner not far, want to grab a bite? Then we can take a nice evening stroll along the edge of the shoreline.”
She glanced out of the big picture window. “Won’t it be dark by then?”
“No, it’ll be dusk. Best time to be out there.”
Their dinner consisted of burgers and fries. Afterwards, with Cokes in to-go cups, they strolled to the beach. The sounds of the ocean moved closer to greet her. At the edge, she looked out at the vastness and smiled. The salty air and gentle breeze had her lowering her shoulders and inhaling a deep breath.
He took her hand and they began to walk slowly toward the cabin. They hadn’t gone far when she said, “I’m sorry you find it hard to trust me, Rye.”
“It’s not that. It’s more the loss of my Team than anything else.”
“I found out how they did it.”
He stopped and turned to her. “Did what?”
“Like Roper said, somehow they managed to interfere with our communication system. I learned that when I was picking up the pieces. I just can’t prove it.”
“That’s too bad.”
“After you left, I hit up a few of my contacts in Pakistan who’d mentioned a man working for the Taliban, who was a genius with communication equipment. I asked them to question him.”
“How did you learn about him?”
“The one and only man of Qamar’s who survived. He gave me the name.”
“I wasn’t sure anyone survived that.”
“He was seriously injured, but he knew a guy Qamar had hired. His name is Jamar Rahman, he’s from Egypt, living in Pakistan.” She chuckled. “He graduated from Harvard in 1998.”
“But not a home grown terrorist?”
“No, no evidence of that.” She took out her phone, clicked on a video and handed it to Rye. “Here is him being interrogated by the CIA.”
He took her phone and watched the screen carefully. When it finished, he handed it back to her and sighed. “I guess we didn’t stand a chance.”
“The way he was able to loop our visuals and control the mics, I couldn’t determine when you were in danger.”
He took her hand and stared down at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t respect you enough to take your word for it.”
“Rye,” she said. “This isn’t a marriage, it’s a job. A hard job where deceit is common. You had a right to question my judgement. I did the same thing. That’s why I stayed over there until Rahman told us everything.”
Rye nodded to the phone in her hand. “What happened to him?”
“He’s in Gitmo. He’s responsible for the death of a SEAL Team. No one gets away with that.”
“Yeah, we can’t let that go.” He looked out over the ocean. “I had a feeling it was something really complicated. I knew the minute they struck, it was well-coordinated, but there had to be more.”
“This guy is a magician at what he does. I never suspected a thing until the loop ended and I could see what was going on. That’s when I started calling for help.”
He lowered his head. “Too late.” He put his arm around her and pulled her against him. “You did your best, Harper. You really did.”
“Still, it wasn’t enough.”
He sighed heavily. “At times it never is. But we have to go on. Learn from our mistakes and live our lives.”
Being in his arms felt better than anything she could imagine. The scent of him and the power in his body pulled at her heart strings. As they resumed their walk along the sandy beach, Harper realized this was truly the most relaxing moment she’d had in a very long time.
“How long can you stay?” he asked. “You have anywhere to be?”
“I’m here until you get tired of me.”
He looked down at her and gave her that crooked grin. “You might need more than that little suitcase you brought.”
“Hmm.”
“Better yet.” He wiggled a brow. “Maybe you don’t need more
clothes.”
Rye lead them back to the cabin where they sat out on the porch and drank another beer. Then he rose, took her hand and walked to the bedroom. She looked up at him and grinned. “Is this our final destination?”
“It is in my mind.”
“No more questions?”
He leaned down, captured her mouth and pulled her close. He lifted his head and stared down into her eyes. “That’s my answer.”
“Really?” she replied. “A kiss?”
“Yeah, you want more?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I sure do.” Falling backward onto the bed, she held out her arms to him and Rye jumped right in. He scooted her up a little so he wouldn’t be hanging half off the edge.
Relaxing all restraint, Rye lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. She didn’t resist or lean into him. She simply allowed. A kiss was a kiss, but this was something special. She tasted delicious, open and so damn soft he wanted to melt into her and stay there. Her tongue flirted with the corners of his lips and touched his soul. Nothing felt more natural than him with her, right now.