A Few Good Men (14 page)

Then there was the other thought that crossed her mind, and it caused the strangest feelings in her. Rather than her initial knee-jerk reaction of being envious of Tiffany over this strange turn of events, it instead gave her hope.

John wanted to come to meet her during his leave. The same thing could happen to her. Wow. That thought made her weak in the knees.

Perhaps it was lack of oxygen that brought on this strange euphoria, perhaps love, but whatever caused it, Maureen grabbed Tiffany and hugged her hard. With actual tears in her eyes, Maureen said with a sincerity that surprised even herself, “I’m so happy for you.”

Tiffany pulled back with a frown. “Uh, thanks.”

“I gotta get back to my desk.” Maureen released the shocked woman and turned to rush back to her computer and John’s email.

“Wait, didn’t you want coffee?” Tiffany called after her.

“No, not really.” Maureen smiled. She wanted to get back and write to John. Now she knew exactly what she wanted to say and what she wanted to do.

On more than one night she’d dreamed of John making love to her. Now her dreams would probably include his proposing, because apparently these things actually happened. They could happen to her.

She didn’t know what his feelings were, but meeting in person would be the perfect way to find out. Nearly bubbling over with excitement, Maureen sat down to write. She’d planned to play it cool, but that seemed beyond her now.

John,

Yes, yes, yes. I want to meet you more than anything else on earth. When? Where? Just tell me and I’ll be there.

Maureen

Heart pounding, she hit
Send
and settled in for what she hoped would not be too long a wait.

“Morales.” John had already asked the man for the salt twice at the dining hall table and been ignored both times.

The large Texan jumped. “Yes, sir.”

“What the hell is wrong with you today?” He rose and grabbed the salt shaker himself, deciding it was easier.

Morales frowned. “Sir? I don’t know what you mean.”

Gonzo shook his head from his seat across the table. “He means you’ve been moping around all day. You don’t hear anyone when they talk to you. The only time you paid attention was in the driver’s seat in the tank this morning. The rest of the day you were like a zombie.”

He shrugged. “Sorry.”

Gonzo rolled his eyes and stood. “I’m going back up for a piece of cake. Anyone else want one?”

Had there been decent coffee to go with it, John would have accepted the offer. Since there wasn’t, he shook his head instead. Morales simply scowled, so Gonzo left for the line to get a slice of leftover Easter cake the military thought would make the soldiers happy and forget they were away from home and family on yet another holiday.

Once alone, John leaned forward toward the younger man. “Morales. If you need to talk about anything, I’m here as your friend not your commander. Nothing you tell me would go any farther.”

Morales screwed up his mouth. “It’s no big secret, sir. Just embarrassing as hell.” John waited as Morales sighed and then continued. “My girl Tiffany dumped me.”

Hmm. John could lend a sympathetic ear, but he was really not prepared to dispense advice on love. He was having enough issues already trying to figure out what to do about his feelings for Maureen. Luckily, it seemed as if Morales was happy to just keep talking and didn’t expect any words of wisdom.

“So get this, she got all twisted over me not emailing her when email was down, as if I can do anything about the damn Internet connection. I’m in Iraq, for Christ’s sake. So she got extra chummy online with some frigging Marine she admitted she was writing to the entire damn time she was writing to me. She just never bothered to tell me that fact back when she was sending me sexy pictures of her in a bikini and telling me she had feelings for me.” Morales rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, this Marine gets leave, goes to New York to meet her for the first time this weekend and then asks her to marry him. And sure enough, she said yes. She didn’t bother to tell me any of this until I finally got the email earlier today. But she wants to know if we can still be friends. And from the way she wrote it, all flirty, I bet she wouldn’t mind being friends with benefits, if you know what I mean. I’ll tell you what, we can be friends again when it snows in hell.”

When the tirade concluded, John didn’t know what to say. He decided to go with a safe old standby. “I’m sorry.”

Morales let out a bitter-sounding laugh. “It’s okay. It wasn’t like I was in love with her or anything. I’ll miss the instant messenger sessions and her webcam though. She had a body that would make a man stand up and sing. That’s for damn sure. But now that I think about it, she wouldn’t even show me any bare boob and it seems like I was doing all the sexy typing to her. She got more out of that than I did there in the MWR. Hell. I tell you what, she’s gonna miss me, not the other way around.”

John tried not to imagine those instant messenger sessions for himself. The thought of what Maureen, being a romance author, could write to him was enough to make parts of him stand up and sing.

Finally, Morales took a deep breath. “You know what? I think I will get me some of that cake.”

As Morales rose and joined Gonzo in the cake line, John shook his head. Webcams, having sex on instant messenger. It was a whole new world out there. Unfortunately, his repertoire of dating was from the old one. Apparently he had a lot to learn about the new world of cyber space.

But right now he had to go back to the world of military paperwork. He rose and stretched his back, wishing he could take off the body armor, knowing he couldn’t. Swinging by the cake line, he said goodbye to his two guys and headed outside to the administration building while trying to ignore the sounds of mortar fire not far in the distance.

Upon entering the building full of offices, he spotted his lieutenant speaking with a gray-haired man dressed in all black, right down to his body armor. Not exactly great camouflage for daytime in Iraq.

His superior waved him over. “Staff Sergeant John Blake, this is Commander Hank Miller.”

Introductions made and hands shaken—the man in black had quite a grip on him—John was about to excuse himself and head for his desk when his lieutenant stopped him. “Commander Miller would like to speak with you privately, Staff Sergeant.”

John felt his brow rise. He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

What the hell could this be about? He looked toward the lieutenant for some clue but received no more than a smile. Figuring a smile was better than a frown, John followed this Commander Miller into an empty office and closed the door behind them.

The man flopped into the chair behind the desk and leaned his elbows on the metal surface like he was used to being there. John remained standing until the commander motioned to the chair. “Please sit, Staff Sergeant.”

By default, John sat in the only other chair in the room and waited.

The man pursed his lips, obviously sizing him up. “You have family back in the States, Blake?”

Was this small talk or something more? He was betting on the something more. “Just my grandmother, sir. In Pennsylvania.”

Miller nodded. “Got yourself a girl back there or in Germany?”

John raised his brow. Well now this was getting awfully personal. “No, sir.” Not exactly. Not yet anyway, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to tell this guy he didn’t even know about Maureen.

“So a location change wouldn’t be a problem for you then?”

Uh, oh.
“No, sir. I’ve gone wherever the Army has sent me for going on ten years.”

Miller nodded.

“Good, good.” The man tented his fingers and looked at John over the top of them. “You happy, Blake?”

John felt his eyes open wide in surprise. What was this, some sort of counseling session? “Sir?”

“In your position. Are you happy being a tank commander?”

What the hell? “Um, yes, sir. I guess so.”

“Where do you see yourself in a few years?”

Hopefully not in fucking Iraq
. “I’m a career man, sir. I don’t know where I will be, but God willing and if I’m still able to, I’ll be in the Army in some capacity.”

“There are other places for a man of your skills than in a tank platoon in the Army. Positions that are still military, still working toward your pension, but a position where you may be more valuable to your country, under the radar so to speak.”

John frowned until it started to sink in. He nearly slapped his own forehead when he realized it. The man dressed in black was Black OPS—talk about a cliché. “You’re a recruiter for SpecOps? And you’re interested in me?”

Commander Miller outright laughed at what must have been a very comical look on John’s face. “Why so surprised, Blake?”

“I’m a tank commander in the sandbox, sir. My language skills suck. I can shoot but I’m no sharpshooter. I’m good but—”

“I’m not here for your language or your shooting skills. We already have plenty of men who can cover that area. You have unique skills of your own, Blake. Things that can’t be taught.”

John had no idea what those skills could be, but he had never heard of an enlisted Army man being plucked out of a deployment by a Black OPS recruiter. “Don’t you guys usually go for the super soldier Delta Force types?”

Commander Miller laughed. “Sometimes. And sometimes a man distinguishes himself for other reasons. Your successful training of the Iraqi army recruits your last tour here flagged you. We’ve been watching you since then.”

Flagged him? Shit. And they had been watching him? Since his last tour? And who exactly were
they
?

“You handle yourself well under pressure. You not only are able to lead, but men actually want to follow you. The lieutenant can’t say enough about you, your natural instincts, your experience here with the insurgents.” The commander smiled. “He says you even think like the bad guys. You know what they’ll do before they know themselves.
That
is a skill I can’t teach, Blake. And it’s an invaluable one.”

“I don’t know what to say, sir.” John let out a wry laugh. “I’m not even sure exactly what you want from me at this point.”

The commander nodded. “Understood. I’m not asking you to give up your position and fly home with me today. But I did want you to start thinking about it. Your tour here is up very soon.”

“If we aren’t extended again, sir,” John clarified.

“You’re not being extended.” Commander Miller said it with a surety that surprised John. He did his best to hide that as the man continued. “I’ll arrange to have you sent to the States directly from Germany rather than follow the rest of the platoon to the garrison at Hohenfels. You can spend some time with the teams and me. Join us for a few trainings. Let me see what you’re made of. Give you a taste of what it would be like should we make this offer official, and should you decide to take the position.”

The United States. How many times during the long months here and back in Germany had John dreamed of being back in the US permanently? He couldn’t count.

“Any questions, Blake?”

Just a few hundred or so. He picked one and went with that. “Exactly which teams are we talking here, sir?”

Hank Miller grinned wide at him. “None you’ve ever heard of, soldier.” He rose and then added, “One more thing. You and I never spoke. Understood?”

John raised a brow. “Yes, sir. Of course.”

“I’ll be in touch.” Smiling, Miller shook his hand. Then he disappeared out the door, and as far as John knew, from the camp itself. Just like a ghost. There was a reason these guys were sometimes referred to as spooks. And John had never pictured himself as one of them.

Shit. Black OPS. Men who for all intents and purposes did not exist. What the hell had he gotten himself into? And what did it mean for his budding relationship with Maureen?

Chapter Fourteen

“Private. Can I ask you a quick question?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How does this instant messenger thing work?” John felt his face growing warm, as if the still-wet-behind-the-ears soldier standing next to him in the MWR knew exactly what naughty things he wanted to do with Maureen online.

Actually, he would just be happy to chat with her. If she owned a webcam it would be so good just to see her smile or laugh, clothed or not, he didn’t care. If things got a little hotter, that wouldn’t be bad either. Hotter, in the middle of the MWR. What the fuck was he thinking? This wasn’t his style. Hell, after being deployed for so long and so many times, did he even have a dating style?

The young kid, who probably wasn’t even old enough to drink legally in the States, grinned. “It’s easy, sir. When you get online I’ll show you.”

It had been a good decision to ask for help from someone who had been born into the cyber generation, but John began to question the whole thing. Too late though. Within minutes John was set up with his own ID, and an instant messenger browser opened in front of him. He typed in Maureen’s email address, and the program sent an email to her saying he wanted to be added to her contact list.

Yeah, he wanted to be added to her contact list all right and a lot more.