Extreme Honor (11 page)

She shut her mouth then. Interrupting him twice was already beyond rude. She wanted to resolve this, not antagonize him into throwing her off the property for real.

David worked his jaw, obviously reining in his own temper. “Anything to do with Atlas is looking to be complicated.”

The dog in question glanced over at the sound of his name but stayed where he was.

“His previous handler wasn't only lost in the line of duty.” It sounded like a struggle for David to share even that much and he looked all around them.

They were yards from the perimeter fence and even farther from the main house. No one was near enough to overhear.

David continued, scowling. “Atlas's previous handler's name was Calhoun and we served together when I was still active. We were friends. So receiving texts from him wasn't unusual.”

She wasn't sure where this was going so she waited.

“Any communication from deployed military is monitored.” David shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “His last text was out of character for him. Odd. But what I read into Calhoun's last text to me could be discounted as paranoia.”

He looked at her, braced. Waiting for a reaction.

She considered it. Considered David. He wouldn't be worried over something that wasn't an actual threat. “Just because a person is paranoid doesn't mean they're delusional.”

That won her a ghost of a smile. Nodding, he continued. “Text was weird as hell. Typically any bar on base would only issue two drinks in a night over there. But we drink so infrequently, two is more than enough. I figured he was in between missions, low on tolerance and sleep, and drunk texting me.”

Lyn snorted. “Better than texting an ex.”

“But a drunk text still has a purpose behind it.” David pulled his hand out of a pocket and rubbed his face. “Dramatic, I know. But he was going on about Atlas and carrying the answers on his shoulders.”

Lyn raised her eyebrows. “So he could've been referencing a book I read in college or mythology.”

David snorted. “We do a lot of reading deployed, believe it or not. But Calhoun wasn't into that kind of fiction as much as mythology, especially as it applied to strategy and the art of war.”

“So we're thinking the Titan Atlas, then. I remember he was supposed to carry the celestial spheres on his shoulders but that's all I've got.” She'd had a phase as a kid reading up on Roman and Greek mythology. Atlas was one of the only Titans she remembered at all. If they got into Nordic gods, she was going to have to start running Internet searches.

David held up both hands. “The message meant exactly what it said: Atlas carries the answers on his shoulders. There was a micro SD card in his shoulder instead of a locater chip.”

“Oh.” Well, her overactive imagination could take a break, then.

“I've got some of the data running through a decryption now but I'm not sure which encryption he used. It's going to take a couple of days.” He gestured back toward the main house and his office. “But Calhoun left me a highlights reel to give me an overview of the issue. It's bad.”

“Is this where the conspiracy theory starts?” She wanted to laugh it off but she was afraid it was real.

Lyn studied David. He was agitated, tiny muscles in his jaw jumping beneath the skin as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. As fantastic as this story sounded, it was serious.

David tilted his head to the side briefly. “It's contained and involves plans of a small group of people for after they leave active duty, at least as far as I know.”

Relief swept through her and her knees wobbled a bit. She'd worried it was one of those impossible, reaching-up-through-the-ranks kinds of things they showed in action hero movies. “But it's not the peaceful, quiet life sort of retirement, I'm guessing.”

“Nope. Some men come home and want to build a life.” David looked out over the kennels. “Others want to find a way to go back and keep doing what they did, for more pay and less red tape. The problem is, this is someone's golden parachute, a way for them to make insane amounts of money after they retire from the military and go private. It means deals and contracts and connections that have nothing to do with protecting our country anymore, and everything to do with making profit off of other people's chaos. Anyone planning to go this route has no issues taking out anyone who might get in their way.”

She wasn't sure if she understood the latter but she did the former. It was what Brandon, Alex, and David had done here. They were putting their lives back together. Finding their way back from whoever they'd become overseas.

“You need to find these men, don't you?” For his friend, Calhoun. For Atlas.

“They're responsible for Calhoun's death.” The one statement held so much conviction. “I need to know why and how. And I need to see them held accountable.”

“Do you know where to start looking for them?” She wasn't sure how she could help, but she wanted to. Because David needed to do this for his friend, but she wanted to do this for David.

“I saw one, yesterday. Shouldn't be hard to find him again,” David commented. “He's keeping a close eye on Atlas.”

And her by association.

“He was in New Hope yesterday. That's why you told us to come back here.” Her anger had been settling but it sparked back up. “You could've told me.”

David held up his hands again. “I knew he was following but I didn't have the connection until we found the micro SD today. I don't have the full picture yet, just a bunch of pieces to the puzzle, and I'm going to have to dig for the connections to assemble everything.”

It was her turn to rub her face with her hands. “What about the men who attacked me?”

“Not military. Hired thugs, most likely. But they've got to be connected.” David drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I'm going to find that connection, too, and see them held accountable for what they did to you.”

“You sound like a man about to turn into a caped crusader.” She regretted the words as they came out. It was the wrong thing to say and she didn't mean to make little of what he planned to do.

He shook his head. “I'm not a superhero. But there's something wrong here and it's got a cascading effect. Hurting people like you and probably others. This is about doing the right thing, and seeing to it Calhoun didn't die for nothing.”

She'd always thought of honor as a word on a plaque or written under a crest. David was teaching her about the meaning of it.

“I'd like to help, however I can.” She put every ounce of sincerity she had into it, to make up for her previous statement. “It'd bring a lot of attention on if you took me off Atlas's case. I can work with you still, and help track down the rest of the information you need.”

“You don't have the training for this.” But he didn't sound adamant.

“Any time you leave the kennels, you're going to be watched, aren't you?” She tried to think as quickly as possible. “Just like me. They're less likely to think something is off if we're together and working with Atlas. It could just be another approach to his rehabilitation. Without me and Atlas, it'd be obvious you're up to something.”

“You have a point.” He wasn't happy about it. His shoulders sagged.

“I said it last night and I still mean it; there's nowhere I feel safer than with you and Atlas.” Truth again.

His gaze locked on hers, searching. After a long moment he sighed. “Okay. We work on this together, but anything starts to go sideways and you listen to me. No arguments in the midst of shit going down. Understand?”

She bit her lip. Not a small thing to ask and he'd hold her to it. “Agreed, so long as I can ask my questions once we're someplace safe again and you promise to give me the full, unedited answers.”

“Agreed.”

I
s it horrible to ask for a rest stop?”

Cruz glanced at the digital display on the dashboard. Only an hour and a half into their road trip. Granted, they'd been caught in some traffic getting past Philadelphia but they hadn't even made it through Delaware. Traveling through it on I-95 was almost literally a blink-and-you-miss-it sort of thing.

Atlas chose that moment to let out a brief whine from the back seat. Dog probably sensed her discomfort but damn, it seemed like Atlas was always going to take her side in awkward situations.

He sighed. Well, he'd decided to bring the two of them along. If this was an indicator for the rest of the trip, he should be glad there were rest stops at regular intervals the whole way there and back. “There's a big rest stop just up here.”

“Thank you.” She fidgeted. “Have we gotten at least close to halfway there?”

Nope. “Is this your way of asking if we're there yet?”

“No!” She huffed. “It's been a while since I've been on a road trip instead of a flight. I guess I've been spoiled by the availability of a restroom en route.”

“You don't ever get stuck in a window seat with someone sleeping?” The image of her squirming in a coach seat, too polite to wake somebody up, amused him.

“It happens, but usually people want to get up at least once during a flight and stretch their legs, too.” She shifted in her seat again. He increased his speed some to get them to the rest stop faster. Entertaining as it might be, he didn't actually want her uncomfortable if he could do something about it. “The longest I've ever had to wait is the twenty minutes or so during takeoff or landing.”

“And you've never been caught having to go then?” The rest stop came up on the left-hand side and he slowed as he took the exit.

“Murphy's Law kicks in once in a while and I have to go just because we're not allowed to leave our seats.” Lyn laughed—a self-conscious, sort of embarrassed sound. “I try to always time it so I go right before we board and right before we land so I don't have the issue.”

He could see her milling around at the airport, timing her visit to the rest room perfectly to boarding. “What do you do if the flight has a delay after you've boarded?”

“Hope I can make it.” She sounded serious, grim even.

He went over a speed bump nice and slow. No need to aggravate the full bladders in the car. A parking spot opened up right up front near the entrance to the welcome center building. He pulled in smooth and dropped the car into park.

“Thanks!” She popped out of the car.

He got out and called after her. “I'm going to take Atlas a ways down so he can do his business. When you're done, come down this way and meet us.”

She waved in acknowledgment, hurrying into the large building.

Cruz chuckled. She really had to go.

Honestly, he didn't mind. It was a long way down to Richmond, Virginia, and the Navy SEAL he'd located. Sheer luck the guy was stationed close enough to seek out with a casual day trip. A long one, but doable in a day and a night.

The man had been one of the soldiers in the highlights video and it'd taken some creative digging to figure out who he was. Cruz was still waiting on the decryption for the full-length video, hoping to get better face shots of the others in the room for identification. In the meantime, Cruz was on a mission to get information from the one he'd located but doing this with Lyn and Atlas put a different spin on the trip. He was willing to take some time and go at an easy pace for this ride. Serious as things were, he couldn't help but smile with her around.

Maybe it was her way of enjoying things all around her. The outlook was contagious. She'd been looking out the window the entire trip and commenting on the greenery or buildings or whatever she saw. The world hadn't gone to crap when you looked at it through her eyes. Not that she was naïve, because a person blinded to the bad all around them would irritate the hell out of him. No. She was aware of the awful things in life. But she took them, dealt with them, and still came through with a positive outlook. It took a different kind of strength than the obvious and he admired her for it.

Atlas walked beside him on the lead, relaxed and mildly interested in the people around them. The big dog had watched Lyn go until he couldn't see her anymore but had come along with Cruz without resistance. He was alert as he should be, but relaxed in his own way. He even stopped to sniff a weed.

They both had it bad.

And Lyn? She didn't even know the power she had over them.

David had no idea how attractive he was.

Lyn paused to take in the scene. David and Atlas had reached the end of the long walkway leading away from the welcome center building. Maybe they'd even made it to the plot of grass marked for dog walking and come back. But currently, they were surrounded by a pack of teenage cheerleaders and a smattering of moms. No doubt the moms were every bit as interested in catching the surly man's eye as the teens were.

And David had on his best grouch face, scowling and generally attempting to brush off any attempts at conversation.

Only when it came to questions about Atlas, his armor had chinks. His answers might be curt but he still answered. And the teens peppered him with more questions. She could see the girls pointing to the big dog. From a distance, Lyn couldn't make out what David was saying but his dark, growly voice sent delicious shivers across her skin.

The man gave good voice.

Of course, the moms weren't in a hurry to lead their girls away either. They added their own comments and laughed, tossing their hair salon-perfect hair. Lyn tugged at a loose lock of her own hair self-consciously. She'd caught a look at herself in the mirror in the bathroom. Tidy but not exactly looking like a supermodel. Every one of those women was made up, done up, and looking fabulous. How did women manage it on road trips and
why
would they bother chaperoning a bunch of cheerleaders?

Because leave a man like David out on his own within five hundred yards of those teenage girls and they'd flock to him. It was hot-guy radar. Had to be.

Lyn hung back, unwilling to break it up. Insecurity was an ugly beast and she readily admitted she was succumbing to it. Rather than show it to David, it'd be better to wait at a distance. Instead, she observed Atlas—which was her job, after all. Atlas was standing at heel, trying to keep all of those waving hands in sight. Generally, dogs didn't like all those grasping hands coming at their face. So far, though, Atlas had managed not to get defensive. He was wary but not upset. Under control. David was doing his part as handler, keeping the girls at a minimum distance to allow Atlas to feel safe.

They weren't rehabilitating him to be friendly.

Social, yes. Able to pass calmly through anything and still follow commands, absolutely. But he wasn't a pet and he wasn't expected to play with random people. He wasn't a PR dog.

He could play, if he wanted. He did play with her and with David. Most of his games revolved around a much-loved tennis ball and fetch. She loved seeing Atlas happy. And once in a while, the perpetual tension left David's shoulders. His face relaxed and the worry lines fell away. David was even more handsome when he was happy, too.

But neither of them was the domesticated male those women and girls expected. It was unfair of them to demand either David or Atlas be safe, perfectly behaved, even submissive to poking and prodding and unwanted attention. But if they made one move to try to shoulder their way out of there, they would go from military hot to scary dangerous. If David even tried to be more assertive about insisting they leave Atlas be as a service dog, they'd decide David was mean rather than respecting Atlas's space.

Not fair.

Suddenly, Lyn started walking. Neither David nor Atlas could be rude to get away. They were essentially trapped. And it'd reflect badly on them if they snapped to be free of the twittering attention showered on them. Fine. She could be a bitch on their behalf.

“I bought us coffee for the road.” She plastered a broad smile on her face as she shouldered her way right through the other women and girls.

Passive–aggressive whispers and mean girl giggles surrounded them. Ugh. She didn't miss high school. And really, what was it about people losing all respect for personal space or someone working? Lyn remembered similar gaggles forming around hot police officers or firemen when she'd been on school field trips, more years ago than she cared to count.

The center of attention—be they a man or a woman—always had an awkward time extracting themselves while leaving a positive impression.

David looked like he'd seen salvation. Atlas's ears swiveled forward and his tail even moved side to side once.
Tock, tock.

One of the girls said something. Lyn ignored it. “Hope you weren't waiting too long. Ready to go?”

“Yup.” David wrapped an arm around her shoulders like she was a lifesaver and he was drowning. They headed back to the car as the girls made sad pouty faces. The grown women shot looks that could put Lyn six feet under. David dropped a kiss on Lyn's hair.

No blushing. None. Nope.

Damn it
.

Delighted warmth ran through her. Even if it was for show, he filled her with a happy glow.

Once they all got in the car, David let out a long sigh. So did Atlas.

A person would think they'd been through days of combat instead of surviving minutes with hungry ladies. Well, the latter might've been worse. Depended on the type of guy and his preferences.

David started up the car. “Let's go.”

Lyn smiled at him—a genuine, happy smile.

“It should be the next right and up the street on our left.” Lyn hoped the GPS was correct. Otherwise, it'd be an incredibly awkward conversation when they knocked on the door.

Actually, it was going to be awkward no matter what. At this point, how awkward was more an order of magnitude.

“We're going to drive around the block first,” David said, passing the right-hand turn and continuing onward. “Never hurts to get a good look at what cars are parked on the street and nearby.”

“Did you get a look at the car the man was driving in New Hope?” She wondered if she should've been keeping an eye out for it this whole drive.

Of course, they'd seen a lot of cars on the drive down from Pennsylvania to Virginia. It'd been a solid road trip. Atlas had settled into the back like a champ with very few issues. Come to think of it, Atlas probably had more experience than she did with road travel. The military working dog had also been trained in para-jumping and rappelling, so he was a lot more experienced in traversing distances in every direction. Officially, the purpose of this trip was to socialize Atlas in a variety of environments and record his reactions. She wondered what sort of other environments they were going to take him into today.

“I did get a look at his car.” David scanned the street as he drove, parking around the corner from the house they wanted to visit. “But the man used to be a Navy SEAL. He'll have switched cars by now. Either gotten a rental or maybe a cheap used car from a local dealership. Something easy to acquire and even easier to get rid of.”

Lyn shifted in her seat. The man could be anywhere, still following her. “Why didn't we call the police?”

David hesitated. “No solid proof he was following you. It would've been my word against his. At most, they'd be able to bring him in for questioning but would've released him again. And he'd have gotten more careful.”

“Oh.” The word sounded quiet, timid, to her ears.

“This way, he's still confident and hopefully underestimates me.” He reached out to brush her cheek with his knuckles briefly. “Which gives me an advantage in keeping the bastard away from you.”

His touch gave her more reassurance than she thought possible and she tucked his words away to think about later. There'd been a lot of information to process in a short period of time.

He gave Atlas the order to stay and left the car windows cracked for airflow. It was cool outside so Atlas would be safe in the car waiting for them. As they walked toward the house, they kept a casual pace.

“Do you think he's home?” It was late afternoon on a weekday. The entire neighborhood was quiet, though.

“I think he will be home. He works day shift right now, based on my intel. Should've gotten home about twenty minutes ago so long as he didn't get caught up on base.” David didn't seem concerned and he didn't elaborate on his sources of intelligence either. “If his family is home, he's less likely to get overexcited.”

She didn't like causing trouble for the man's family. It was one thing to search out a bunch of soldiers in her mind but now that they were here—about to talk to one—the ramifications were widening in scope. By a lot. “We're just here to ask questions though, right?”

David was silent for a second as they turned and walked up the driveway. “For right now, yes. But we all make choices and the reasons behind them get complicated.”

She didn't have a chance to pursue the topic because they'd reached the front door and David knocked.

The sound of small feet stampeded toward the door before a feminine voice called out, “Let your father answer the door.”

The man who answered the door was lean and dark, and intimidating. Lyn wondered what it was like living with a father like him, but then the man gave them a ready smile and laugh lines creased the corners of his eyes. “Can I help you?”

“Sean Harris?” David asked, extending his hand. “I'm David Cruz. I'm reaching out to some of the teams who worked in co-op with the Air Force military working dog teams. Wanted to get some feedback if you can spare a couple of minutes.”