She shrugged. Was this another of Kevin’s sick, twisted games?
She should quit. Right here, right now. Then she should storm off in righteous indignation.
And yet she sat in the passenger side of his truck, unmoving. What did that mean? Was she just stunned so greatly that she was afraid to move? Did she love her job so much that she didn’t want to walk away?
The thoughts rippled through her, creating an electric buzz that cascaded into her fingertips and down to her toes. The sad and beautiful truth was that she did...she loved this job. She loved being a part of something bigger than herself. Something that stopped the bad guys from getting their hands on the weapons that could and would hurt so many.
Summer didn’t agree with the methods those above them had used to make her prove her worth and dedication, but if they had thought her unworthy based on their findings, she wouldn’t be sitting where she now sat. “Did I pass? Are these stupid training exercises over?” she asked, wary but hopeful.
“We booked you on a private plane to take you back to the main office. What do you think?” Kevin asked, giving her a wink. “I seriously do hope you know that I am in your corner with all of this. I went to bat for you.”
She couldn’t bring herself to say thank you, but from the tired look in Kevin’s eyes she didn’t think he was looking for her gratitude. If anything, he looked apologetic. That response was something she could appreciate and understand.
She gave him a tight nod in simple recognition of his efforts.
“When we get to Kirtland,” he continued, “we have set up a series of secondary training exercises with several other candidates.”
“Candidates?” she asked, taken aback. “For what?”
“Thanks to your work, the DTRA has been working on a new program that focuses solely on worldwide IGS through nanotechnology. We would like you to take a lead role in the project and to help create a better training program so we never find ourselves in a similar situation.”
“Am I being bought off?” she challenged. “Am I getting this opportunity because someone above you feels guilty or is it actually because of merit?”
Kevin chuckled. “I wish I had the answers for you, but you know as much as I do in this case. If I were you, though, I wouldn’t look this gift horse in the mouth. This is the one chance you may get to advance and also get to be at home with Joe more often. After all this, do you really want to continue being a field agent?”
“No.” There was no hesitation in her response, no need to think about her choices or about what she wanted. “I want to be with Joe. I can’t put him into a situation like this ever again. And while I’m sure the DTRA would never intentionally put him into danger again, I can see now that, no matter what steps I take or don’t take, being an agent will put him in harm’s way. That’s unacceptable. And as much as I love my job and I want to continue working with this group, I can’t take that kind of risk with my child.”
Kevin nodded understandingly. “If I’m being completely honest, I’m surprised you are still sitting here with me and are willing to go. I would get it if you turned in your ID and quit. What happened...was a cluster of mistakes and I’m embarrassed that it even happened like it did.”
“From what you’ve said, none of this was your fault. You had a job. I had a job. We had to play our parts. I don’t like it. I don’t like what happened. It is unacceptable and I will be requesting that there be follow-up investigations and procedural changes, but what better way to do this than from a job inside? I can be the change so no one ever has to go through anything remotely close to what I’ve had to go through.”
“That is one hell of a great perspective,” Kevin said, nodding his head in appreciation. “I can tell you right now that it is that attitude and outlook on life that got you this job and is going to make you successful in years to come. I’m proud to be a part of your journey, but remember me and the benefits of this organization when you are looking down from your seat in Congress. Okay?”
Summer laughed. The last thing she wanted to do was to be involved even more deeply in politics than she already was. Even though she wasn’t going to continue as a field agent and would instead move into more of a political sector role, it didn’t mean that she wanted to become a dealmaker. And yet, who knew what the future would bring? Life had a way of throwing curveballs that were so strong and swift, no one could catch them; all they could do was try to get out of the way and hope for the best.
The plane’s crew was standing out by the stairs, waiting.
This was her last chance to say no and walk away. But as quickly as the idea came to her mind, it disappeared. Summer’s life was about to change in ways she struggled to imagine. To top things off, she could be the wife and the mother she had always wanted to be.
In this moment of change, she could have it all.
“Ready?” Kevin asked, motioning to the waiting aircraft.
She reached back and grabbed her bags, then opened the passenger-side door. “I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be.”
Stepping out of the truck, she slung her bags over her shoulder and closed the door. As the door slammed, there was a crack. That sound. She knew that sound. Without thinking, she hit the ground.
Someone was shooting at them.
As her body hit the cold, snow-laden tarmac, the bags she had been carrying rolled off her back. She felt heat radiate up from her core. Reaching down, her fingers prodded her side. There was something warm and wet. As she touched the spot, it felt as if a fire was racing through her, setting her nerves ablaze with pain.
There was a whizzing sound as another round pierced the air just above her head.
Someone wasn’t just shooting at them; they were shooting at her.
Someone wanted her dead. And based on the fact that they were still shooting even though she’d been hit, they wouldn’t stop until they were sure she was dead.
Chapter Nineteen
After having dropped off Joe with Jessica, Mike sat at the top of the offset from the airfield. He scoped from the hill and waited as Kevin and Summer sat in the truck. He could tell they were talking and as the minutes passed, some of the anger on Summer’s face had started to diminish and was replaced with what he could best assume was relief.
His assault rifle with its long-range scope was perched on its bipod, concealed under the little makeshift tent he’d propped up around him using a borrowed sheet from the hotel. He’d also used all the white-and-black clothes he could find in an effort to blend into the snowy landscape.
She didn’t need to know he was watching, that he couldn’t stand by and just let her leave with a man and a team who had put them all in danger. Yeah, right.
If anything, given how much she knew him, it was a bit of a surprise that Summer hadn’t been watching in the rearview mirror for him the entire way to the base. Sure, he’d had to borrow a late-model Buick from the hotel parking lot, but if things went right and she got on the plane without any sort of event, he would have the car and sheets back to the hotel before anyone even knew they were missing.
Getting onto the base had been more of a trick, but given his and STEALTH’s levels of clearance, it had only taken a minute for the guard to make the necessary calls and for the gates of Malmstrom to open to him. Not for the first time, Mike found himself chuckling at the limited levels of security. Yes, he had a reason, the clearances, and a right to be on the base, but it struck him as darkly funny that he had to be there to provide cover and security for his fiancée.
He watched as the passenger door of the pickup opened and Summer stepped out, carrying her bags. As she closed the door, there was the rip of a round through the still Montana air.
What in the hell?
Using his rifle, he scoped the area around the base, looking for the shooter or shooters. Was there someone else, someone camouflaged like him, wait
ing just outside the perimeter of the airfield?
He looked over at Summer; she was lying on the ground. Her fingers came up from her side and, even from two hundred yards away, he could make out the distinct red color of fresh blood.
Someone had shot her.
How dare someone hurt the woman he loved.
Mike moved his sights in the direction in which he thought he’d heard the shot originate from. As he did, he caught a muzzle flash from the corner of his eye as the shooter fired off another round.
People on the base began to move quickly, like ants, as they started to make sense of what was happening and the reality that they were coming under fire from some unknown assailant.
There was another shot, but this time Mike spotted the little orange blaze that appeared to erupt from a blanket of snow. Whoever was shooting at Summer was using cover, just like him. If the shooter had been just a little more careful in the planning, Mike might not have even seen the flash. He had gotten lucky.
Hopefully, he would continue to be.
Mike took aim, carefully making calculations for distance and wind speed as he lined up his target. He would likely only get one easy shot. If he missed, the shooter would be on the run at a distance, making it even more of a challenge to neutralize the threat.
He had to get this right.
Clear.
Take the shot.
He found his mark, a tiny black spot in the midst of white where he assumed the shooter’s head would be. He aimed small, centering his sights on the tiny black spot. His finger moved inside the guard and he felt the steely, cold ridges of the trigger. He applied even, steady pressure, making sure not to engage the sympathetic movement in his hand and interfere with his shot.
Precision. This was all about precision.
This was the moment he had trained for his entire adult life. He was the protector, the keeper of hearts, the man in the shadows, and the hero no one could identify—if he did things right.
The shot didn’t surprise him, he had known it was coming, but the pressure he’d applied to the trigger had been so steady and even that when the firing pin hit the primer, it nearly shocked him. The suppressor did its job as the round moved down the barrel and cut into the air. There was only the dull pew sound as the round left and sought its target.
He stared as the bit of copper found that little black dot in which he had been aiming.
Damn. Sometimes he was good.
He smiled at the shot.
But had he neutralized the threat?
The firing stopped. No more rounds filled the air from where the shooter had been lying and taking aim at Summer.
Just to be sure he’d done his job, Mike sent another round downrange, striking just a few millimeters to the right of his first aim. He wouldn’t stop firing until he knew his target was no longer a threat.
Crimson blood started to seep out onto the ground near his target. The shooter moved to stand, pushing the cover he had been lying under up and off. The man was dressed in white-and-black camouflage of the more commercial type, like the kind someone would buy at a sporting goods store.
The camo outfit was unmarred, but as the man moved, blood poured from his neck, just below his ear. He reached up and put his hand to his neck, applying pressure. But it was too late and Mike watched as he sank to his knees, his blood pressure lowering and starting to fail as the life seeped from him.
If the dude thought he could attempt to hurt or kill the woman Mike loved...well then, the dude deserved to die. No one hurt Summer. Never again.
Mike grabbed his gear and slipped away, hoping to remain unseen and the man in the shadows.
He rushed back to the borrowed Buick and made to leave the air base. He didn’t want to have to answer questions about the shooting and find himself in some kind of court battle. He wasn’t that kind of man. No, he was the kind who snuck in, did his job, and snuck out. And, for all intents and purposes, that was exactly what he needed to do now, as well.
Except, he couldn’t bear the thought of knowing Summer was wounded, bleeding, and he was about to start running in the other direction. No. He couldn’t leave her. He had to get down there, make sure she was okay and help stabilize her until the medics arrived. This being a military base, it wouldn’t take long.
He drove toward the airfield, stopping far enough away from the strip that he wouldn’t get pulled over by the airmen starting to swarm the area. Getting out, he stepped into a snowdrift. A USAF Security Forces airman rushed toward him, his hands raised. “You need to stop right there, sir.”
That was not going to work on him, not now, with Summer waiting. “The woman out there on the tarmac, she is my...” He paused for a half second as he thought of exactly what he should call her so that the airman would be most willing to let him go to her. “She’s going to be my wife. I need to get to her. To make sure she’s okay. She’s been shot.”
“I’m more than aware she has been shot, sir.” The airman looked in the direction of Summer, where another airman was kneeling beside her. He had his hands on her stomach, applying what looked like a compress to stop the bleeding.
“Look, I need to get to her. Please. I’m begging you.”
“Sir, we have an active shooter situation, I recommend that you get back into your car and leave the area before someone takes a shot at you.”
Mike tried to cover his smirk. “I can guarantee that the threat here is neutralized. I saw your shooter go down. If you let me go to her, I’ll take you to the man’s body.”
The Security Force airman—known as an SF—turned away, clicking on his handset to likely call in to his fellow officers. Before the man could turn back, Mike sprinted past him toward Summer. The airman reached out and tried to grab him, but he swiveled around his grasp and charged away.
Mike slid to a stop on the icy tarmac next to her, the SF close at his heels. “Summer. Summer, I’m here. Are you okay?” he asked, taking her hand.
She looked up at him, shock in her eyes, but thankfully it looked as though it was only shock at seeing him as a smile crossed over her features. “Mike? What? How?”
He sent her a wicked smile in return and tipped his head in the direction of the shooter. “You couldn’t believe that for one second I was going to let you get out of my sight. At least not until I knew you were safe and tucked away on the plane.”
Her smile quaked as the airman holding the bandage moved. “Sir, you need to back up. The medics will be here at any moment, sir.”
“I will leave as soon as she tells me to and not a second sooner.”
“Sir, if you don’t move away from this woman, I will be forced to place you under arrest.”
The SF behind him piped up. “You should be under arrest already.”
He had broken several laws and would be willing to break several more if it meant taking care of her, but for now he needed to get these guys to just back off. “I’m not trying to cause a scene. Really. I just—”
“Excuse me, gentlemen. Please leave my friend here alone.” There was the crunch of footsteps on the tarmac as Kevin walked toward them.
“But, sir—” the SF standing behind Mike said.
“Lieutenant, it would be in your best interest—should you wish to continue your career in the air force—if you simply busy yourself with finding out where the medics are. If they are not on-scene in the next minute, I will make sure all of you find yourselves in your CO’s office getting the ass-chewing of a lifetime before the day is out. Do you understand me?”
Mike wasn’t sure what had happened, or who was behind the pulling of the trigger, but it appeared as though the culprit wasn’t Kevin. A certain amount of relief filled him; at least their enemy wasn’t the man standing directly in front of them.
Before he made up his mind about their safety, Mike glanced at Summer, giving an inquisitive l
ook between she and Kevin.
Summer dipped her head. “It’s all good. I’ll explain later though.” She was breathing hard as though it hurt to take in too deep a breath. “Is the shooter down?”
Mike gave her a tight nod. “The threat has been neutralized. No other shooters in the area. But I haven’t been able to make a positive ID on the trigger puller.”
“I need to know,” she said. She tried to move to standing, but the airman held his hands in place and she winced in pain.
“We will know who was behind this soon enough. For now, we just need to get you to the hospital and get you stitched up. We don’t want you bleeding all over the place,” he teased, trying to keep her from thinking about anything but taking care of herself.
“This is not going to make wedding dress fittings any easier, you know.”
He laughed.
Behind him, the medics rolled up and, parking on the tarmac, rushed over. He was pushed out of the way as they took Summer’s vitals. Her blood pressure was high, but her oxygen sat levels were normal and the bleeding appeared to be under control. From what he could see as they pulled up her shirt, the bullet had traveled clean through—entering from the back just to the side of where her kidney would be and exiting out of her side. He was no doctor, but based on the looks of the wound, she would be okay. Especially as the bleeding was no longer an issue.
“Sir, you said you would show us where to find the body of the shooter,” the SF who had chased after him said, pulling him back to the world outside of Summer.
“Absolutely.” Mike nodded. “Summer, babe, you going to be okay for a minute?” he asked over the sounds of the medics asking her questions and talking to each other.
Summer looked up at him and smiled. “I’ll be fine. Nothing more than a little flesh wound.”
He glanced at the medic, who gave him a slight nod, reaffirming her assessment. “She’ll be okay. We just need to get her to the infirmary and get her fixed up.”
“Don’t take her anywhere without letting me know first. She is not going to the infirmary without me, understand?”
Rescue Mission Page 17