Hawk took a quick look in the mirror. He hadn’t been in uniform since returning to the states. His commanding officer had interviewed him in the hospital in Iraq and a couple of officers from headquarters had visited him in the hospital stateside, and now they were probing again into the mission.
What the hell had happened to Brett? Who had tried to cave his skull in? Not a tango. They’d have raised an alarm and been swarming all over the building searching for the rest of them. That left someone on the team.
A hollow ache hit his stomach more painful than a bullet wound.
Flash had been outside the building the whole time monitoring the tangos on the roof. His periodic clicks over the radio had kept them posted on their movements.
But he could have slipped in just as they had.
Derrick had raised the alarm that Cutter hadn’t come out. Doc had clicked his mic just before.
Bowie had set his package and taken cover outside the building before that, just as he had.
Any one of the others could have set his explosives package and been out of the building in time. They were all fast enough.
But how long had Cutter been unconscious?
Greenback had been two blocks down keeping an eye on their rear security. He’d had his hands full taking out two tangos blocking their route.
Hawk raked both hands through his hair and pushed the heels of his hands against his temples. He’d been over and over it a million times.
How could one of his men turn on his own teammate?
Fuck!
Why had this happened? There had to be a reason behind it.
That was the key.
But how the hell was he supposed to find out if he couldn’t talk to his men. They couldn’t talk to each other about the mission.
But what had triggered Brett’s attack might have happened before the mission. And that was fair game.
Hawk grabbed his bonnet from the dresser and shoved it under his arm.
Zoe’s and Clara’s voices came from the kitchen as he limped down the hall. As he entered the room, the two grew silent. Zoe gazed at him for a long moment her expression guarded.
“You look very handsome in your uniform, Hawk,” Clara said with a smile.
Hawk returned the gesture. “Thanks. I have a meeting at O-eight-thirty at HQ. I thought you could drop me off and I’d catch a ride over to the hospital afterward.”
Zoe rose to her feet. “Would you like some coffee before we go?”
“No. I’m fine.”
Clara rose. “We’re ready. I’ll get my purse.” Her sandals clicked against the hard wood floors as she walked down the hall.
Zoe turned to put the milk away, cleared the cups from the table, and loaded the dishwasher.
Her usual quick movements appeared jerky.
Hawk sidled up close behind her and rested a hand against the small of her back. “What is it, Zoe?”
“Is it about Brett?”
How had she known? Had she read his body language, his expression? “You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Don’t you think we’re entitled to know what happened?”
Hawk remained silent for a moment. “I was there and I’m not sure what happened, Zoe. We may never know.”
Her jaw grew taut. “I won’t accept that.” She raised her gaze to his and was as close to tears as he’d ever seen her.
Every instinct screamed for him to hold her and offer her comfort.
As though she read his intentions she shook her head and slipped away from him to pick up the purse hanging on one of the chairs.
Breaking Free Page 11