Code Name: Ghost (A Warrior's Challenge 1) (24 page)

Hard to do. He caught a last glimpse of
Kayla before she disappeared out the doors. If there was ever a
woman who was meant for him, it was her. He needed to find a
distraction. Any woman would do, and after tonight he was going to
end his dry spell.

Cobbs stuffed his weapon into its holster
and took a position on the other side of him. “She gets a little
testy when someone’s firing bullets at her, doesn’t she?”

He chuckled. “Yes, she does.”

“I don’t know about you, but she can drive
my boat any day. The woman’s got bigger balls than some guys I
know, but wow, that ass is something else.” His old friend gave him
a raised brow as if sayin’,
“You gonna walk away from that, you
idiot?”

“Shut up, Pat.”

“You can be a real bitch when you haven’t
had sex,” and he barked with laughter.

He gave him a healthy glare, but it didn’t
faze Pat for one second.

Approval for the mission came quickly from
the Mexican government. They wanted Faron as well, although she had
a feeling he wouldn’t get to trial. Kayla spoke to the team when
they departed, then monitored them until the radar signal
disappeared.

Pacing a trench into the ops room floor
didn’t help, but it made her feel better as the sun began to rise.
No word—none. John, the man who had trained her, worked the night
shift and watched her with constant concern.

“Kayla, why don’t you sit down for thirty
seconds? You must have walked to Canada and back already.”

“Three hours, that’s all they needed.
Something’s gone wrong.” She glanced at the enormous clock on the
ops wall—four am. Time surrounded them no matter where they looked
in the Command center. Time on the consoles radiated with glowing
red numbers, time counted off on their computers, and one part of
the enormous monitor that covered a wall could—with the touch of
finger—reveal time zones across the world. Every clock linked to
GPS
,
Global Positioning System, in perfect sync, except the
one in her heart, it paced itself like cold molasses in
Montreal.

“The SEALs always get the job done,
especially Thane’s team,” John said.

“The Serpientes are probably waiting for
them to come back. Maybe that’s why they attacked us in the first
place. Maybe Faron rallied more bad guys knowing they’d be
back.”

John twisted the head of a small task light
on the console away from the report he’d been working on. “More
than likely he’s hiding, knowing they’re coming back for him. Team
One is probably taking the time to ferret him out. They don’t often
get a chance like this so close to home.” He placed his foot on a
chair and gave it a thrust. It came to a stop against her knees.
“Sit,” he ordered.

She nodded and took a seat.

“No, over here,” he pointed with his finger.
She used her toes to roll herself over toward him as John crossed
his arms and waited. He was five years younger than her, but he
turned a look on her like he was about to give her a big brother
speech. “I know you’re worried about the Commander most of all, but
you shouldn’t be,” He paused. “Kayla, a lot of women have wasted a
lot of worry on him with nothing in return.”

She leaned back. “I’m worried about all of
them.”

“Bullshit,” he said leaning back himself.
“You know the kind of lives the SEALs live. Women who fall in love
with a SEAL live their entire lives with a pocket of worry in their
hearts. Their marriages fall apart. The men can’t talk about their
missions, often they internalize their pain or deal with it by
abusing alcohol. It’s tough.”

“I know that.”

“No, you don’t. SEALs are a different breed
of warrior. The media has built them into this romantic image, but
the reality is harsh. The women who attach their lives to these men
have to endure the worry when they’re away, and the problems of
dealing with what they bring back with them, never really knowing
what they’re dealing with.”

“I’m not marrying the man, John,” she said,
crossing her arms.

“No, and that’s my point.” He leaned over,
clutching his hands together. “Although it’s none of my business, I
think you’ve fallen in love with him.”

She spit out her response, looking up toward
the vessel board. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“He’s left a Pacific-sized graveyard of
hearts in his wake, Kayla. I don’t want to see that happen to
you.”

“John, thanks for the concern, but I’m a big
girl. I—”

John put his hand up. “He’s one of those
rare kind of guys that can live his life without letting his heart
soften for any woman, except maybe when they’re in bed with him.
That’s all he needs and then he moves on. You deserve better than
that. He knows that, too. You can be sure of that, and he won’t
step over the line he’s dug deep in the sand over the years. He’s a
smart man Kayla, smarter and fiercer than most. And because of that
he’s made a conscious decision to marry this country, but never a
woman.”

She suddenly heard the Commander’s voice in
her head, and saw them standing in the noisy bar backed against the
wall when he said,
“I can’t give you what you want even if it’s
what I want, too.”

“Kayla—” John reached out and grabbed her
knee. “Don’t let him use you and throw you away. That’s what he
does. He lives a fast and dangerous life. He gets off on it, but I
don’t want him leaving you behind like shrapnel.”

She stood up and began to pace again. “I
know, John, and thanks for your concern. I just got too close to
the excitement tonight and experienced the world they work in. I’m
just concerned for their safety, all of them.”

Her heels dug in when she heard a familiar
voice. It was Clay. “Base Command, this is King Fisher entering
American waters, ETA alongside one-five minutes, over.”

John picked up the mic. “King Fisher, this
is Base Command, good to hear you. All flippers accounted for,
over?”

“Roger that. It was a very moving burial at
sea, over.”

“Good, copy. Think you’re going to have some
very relieved company waiting at the boathouse for you.”

She didn’t wait, already running for the
door.

The Commander’s voice came back sharply.
“She’s not by herself, is she?”

“Affirmative.”

“Stop her,” he ordered.

“She’s already gone, sir. I’m sorry, but she
tore out of here like her ass was on fire.”

A pause followed. “ETA five minutes. King
Fisher out.”

* * * *

The base was relatively quiet for four in
the morning. Soon the recruits would be roused with the loud
barking of the Petty Officers. She didn’t have to hurry, she’d get
down to the dock at the same time they arrived. Counting heads was
her only reason for meeting them, that and taking the Commander to
the hospital. Already she was loading up with responses to his
arguments against the idea. Too bad—he’d protected her with his own
body. She could at least do this.

Another balmy day dawned as the sun rose in
the sky. It was going to be a scorcher, the blistering sun already
hot on her skin. Her breasts nearly bounced out of her tank top.
Wetting down her hair didn’t help and the curls sprung like coils.
Her twenty-four hour makeup had passed its “good until” point, and
the pants Mace lent her were rolled up to her shins. She padded
along in bare feet, watching her step. Not exactly the dapper sight
most were used to on the base.

Taking a shortcut, she passed between two
vacant buildings. Military equipment, trash bins and other
paraphernalia littered the edges. She stopped, and turned, hearing
a footstep behind her. No one was there. The hair rose on her neck,
and she increased her pace. The latest brief about the Blood Shark
had been posted a few days ago. Another nurse had disappeared.
Everyone was so vigilant it was hard to believe he’d been able to
victimize someone else.

Whirling around, she caught site of a jacket
as someone darted behind a garbage bin not fifty feet behind her.
No one darted behind anything unless… “
Shit
.”

Her feet grew wings and she vaulted into a
run. A sharp rock gouged her heel but her adrenaline pumped too
fast for her to stop. She broke from the alley and darted left
toward the boathouse. The Mark five neared the dock, but she held
the scream in her throat. She’d make it to safety on her own. The
footfalls came closer. He was catching up.

* * * *

“Commander!” Tony barked, looking toward the
street running along the docks.

Scanning the street, Thane saw Kayla moving.
She was running too damn fast, and there was someone behind her.
“Jesus Christ, get us there,” he hollered.

The rest of the team swung around. “Who the
hell’s behind her?” Mace yelled from the bow, pulling out his
weapon and taking aim before he answered. “The brush is in the way,
Commander. I can’t get a clear shot.”

The bow bumped against the dock, and all the
men vaulted from the vessel running up the pier, the timbers
trembling under foot. Kayla tore around the corner and hit the
nonskid metal ramp. “Kayla, no,” he yelled. She was in bare feet
running as if her life depended on it, and she cried out, but
didn’t stop. Thane reached her at the bottom of the ramp and she
practically climbed up his body. The rest of the men rushed around
them and thundered up the ramp with their weapons drawn.

“Kayla—” She bit down on her pain, her chest
heaving. He took a step back and saw the blood already dripping to
the weathered planks from her feet. “Oh, God, sweetheart.” He
tightened his arms around her and carried her to the boathouse.

He laid Kayla on a large prep shelf they
used for dive equipment. Retrieving three blankets, he tucked one
beneath her head, one beneath her knees and the other at her
ankles. The men returned a few minutes later.

“Shit, how bad is it?” Mace asked, reaching
them first, and folding her hand in his.

A large pink puddle formed on the bench and
dripped to the cement floor. The bottoms of her feet bled openly as
he flushed them with water, sliced to pieces and punctured from the
spiny metal ramp.

“Rabbit got away?” Thane asked as the rest
of the team circled them. “Stitch, I think you better take over
here.”

“Yes, sir.” Caleb took the bottle of
sanitized water and continued to flush her feet.

“Kayla, I have to take you to the hospital,”
Thane said, reaching for her other hand.

She stared up at him, her expression
controlled. “That’s why I came down here, to take you to the
doctor.”

He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “We’ll
both go.”

She nodded slowly.

“Kayla, did you get a look at him?” Cobbs
asked.

“No, I tried, but he hid behind the garbage
bins. As soon as I realized something was wrong I just ran.” She
released the air from her lungs with a slow deliverance when Caleb
began to work on her feet. “Shit, why didn’t I look? I could have
identified him.”

Thane leaned over and kissed her forehead.
Mace cleared his throat—loudly, but he ignored him. She’d come too
close to being the Blood Shark’s next victim. There was no doubt in
his mind that’s who had chased her. “Don’t do that. Don’t berate
yourself. You were running for your life, and that’s twice in
twenty-four hours.” He backed away. “But you’re going to damn well
listen to me from now on, aren’t you?”

The men turned a stony look on him because
his voice rose to just short of yelling at her. The Shark had been
inches from her. Even with a slash and dash, he could have taken
Kayla’s life. A cold sharp pain twisted his heart, and he squeezed
his eyes shut, trying to wipe away the image of her warm, beautiful
eyes becoming vacant with death. Fear had vacated his soul long
ago, but it gripped him with vengeance now, making up for lost
time.

Caleb pressed the bandages against the
bottoms of her feet, and he expected her features to contort with
pain. It had to be excruciating, but her expression never altered.
It made him pause, and a whisper of
something’s not right
shuddered inside him. He’d seen the look before in a wounded
soldier’s eyes. The pain was there, but she separated herself from
it emotionally.

“Sorry, Kayla, I’ve got to put pressure on
these. They’re still bleeding too much,” Caleb said.

Thane shook off the feeling there was
something very wrong with what he’d just witnessed. Turning to the
team, he glanced at every face. “Do a sweep. I’ll make the report
after we’re finished at the hospital and I’ve taken her home.”

“Yes, sir.” Cobbs motioned for the men to
head out. “If there’s something to find Fox will find it,” he
said.

He and Cobbs exchanged a look, assessing and
coming to the same conclusion without a word spoken. The Blood
Shark had chased her. He had her scent. They both knew what that
meant.

* * * *

As the doctor stitched her feet, she stared
at the water stain in the ceiling tile with the Commander sitting
silently beside her. When he’d carried her into emergency, they’d
wanted to tend to his gunshot wound first, but he adamantly
refused.

She glanced over at him.

“You don’t have to stay, Commander. Let them
sew up your arm.”

With his head bowed, his elbows perched on
his thighs and his hands clasped together, he shook his head once
surveying the floor.

A nurse busied herself at a small cart next
to her bed. Turning, the nurse said, “I’m just going to clean you
up, Kayla.”

With a wad of gauze soaked with alcohol, she
reached for the cross of blood the Commander had painted on her
chest. Kayla gripped her wrist. “No,” she said shaking her
head.

Thane’s fingers slipped through her left
hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the tips gently. Slowly,
he raised his head to gaze at her and said to the nurse, “I’ll take
that.”