Eye of the Beholder (22 page)

She knew what he was doing. Despite the fact that their relationship was in limbo, he was staking his claim to her in front of the other men as plainly as if he’d grunted and pounded his chest. She was torn between being irritated and being flattered.

Chief Warrant Officer Esposito took a photo from the folder he had brought and pinned it in the center of the corkboard. It was a picture of a young man in a white navy uniform. He was staring straight at the camera. He had probably been attempting to appear solemn, Glenna thought, but he hadn’t been able to suppress the sparkle of eagerness in his eyes. As she studied the photograph, she felt a stir of recognition. She was sure she had seen this man somewhere before, but she couldn’t que place him.

“This is Commander Harry Hawthorne.” Major Redinger didn’t need to raise his voice. As soon as he began to speak, the room went silent. “Commander Hawthorne served his country for twenty-five years with the United States Navy. He distinguished himself flying combat missions during the Gulf War. He retired ten years ago to take up a career as a commercial pilot.”

A pilot, Glenna thought. She leaned forward, taking another look at the young officer. She imagined him years older, with thinning hair. He was wearing a white shirt with black-and-gold epaulets and sporting a grandfatherly paunch….

And his blood had spattered her cheek moments before his body had been tossed to the tarmac in Rocama.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed.

She felt Rafe’s hand close over her arm. He squeezed gently in an offer of comfort, evidently aware of her distress. Although her eyes filled as she remembered the horror of that day, she continued to regard the photo.

Redinger had been wise to begin his briefing like this. It helped to put things in perspective. And it reminded Glenna that whatever personal problems she might have in dealing with Rafe, she was here because of the mission. Rafe had been clear about that all along. The mission should be her first priority, too.

“Although he was no longer in the service of his country,” Major Redinger continued, “Harry Hawthorne used his skills and his courage to bring his last flight down safely, only to be shot in cold blood on the orders of a common criminal. During the past several years, Leonardo Juarez has been keeping in the background, letting his brother, Arturo, be the front man while he himself has been quietly running the family drug empire from various bases around the Caribbean. Juarez is guilty of countless crimes, but it is this one for which he will finally pay.” The major paused to look at the flag in the corner, then swept his gaze over the room, focusing on each person in turn. “This time, Juarez made the mistake of taking one of our own. Now it’s up to us to bring Commander Hawthorne’s killer to justice.”

There weren’t any windows in the briefing room, but the drafting lamp that was clamped to the table was shining directly into Glenna’s face. She tried holding up her hand to shield her eyes, then gave up and moved her chair to the other side of the table.

“Is there a problem?” Captain Fox asked, glancing up from her laptop computer. “If this is too tiring for you, let me know.”

Glenna rolled her shoulders a few times to dispel the stiffness that was gathering there. Apart from a thirty-minute break for lunch, she had been working at this non-stop since Major Redinger had finished his briefing.

Most of the men had departed for other duties soon after the major, leaving Captain Fox to assist Rafe and Glenna as they put together facts from their memories. But Rafe had left for one of the Delta compound’s target ranges almost two hours ago in order to put in his mandatory daily practice time. Only Glenna and Captain Fox remained.

Glenna had hoped it would have been more relaxing to work with a woman than with the hormone-charged men, yet the more time that passed, the more…irritating the captain had become. It seemed as if she’d deliberately positioned the lamp so that it shone squarely in Glenna’s eyes. “No, I’m fine,” Glenna replied belatedly. “Please continue.”

“In the service we’re all used to twenty-five-hour days. It’s very different from what a woman like you would be accustomed to.” Captain Fox tapped a few keys and waited while the computer’s hard drive crackled. “Are your quarters adequate?”

“I haven’t seen them yet. Rafe said he’d take me there when he’s finished at the range.”

“Master Sergeant Marek is one of our best marksmen.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I imagine there are many things you don’t know about him. He’s one of the team’s weapons sergeants.”

“What does that entail?”

“He’s had specialized training in the handling of every domestic and foreign weapon manufactured in the world, as well as weapons defense systems. He’s a very dedicated soldier.”

“Yes, I’ve seen that.”

“And he often goes well beyond the call of duty. I’ll take you to your quarters myself.” She tapped another key, then rotated the laptop so that Glenna could see the image on the screen. “This is the best shot I have of the Juarez house loading bay. Unfortunately, the surrounding foliage blocks much of the detail.”

Glenna leaned closer to the screen, astounded by the clarity of the satellite image. If she wanted to, she would have been able to count the segments on the palm leaves that hung over the door. “This is amazing.”

“Yes, you’d be surprised what we can pick up on some of our satellite shots. The infrared ones in particular often reveal…the unexpected.”

“Infrared,” Glenna repeated. “Would that be used to detect heat sources?”

“Very good. You must watch the Discovery Channel. Yes, we can analyze heat patterns. That’s how I found you and Sergeant Marek in the jungle, by your body heat.”

As Glenna continued to study the detail on the screen, she wondered exactly how clear the body heat images had been. Who else had seen them? Did everyone know? Rafe had said what had happened between them was private, but judging by Captain Fox’s tone of voice, at least one person suspected the truth. On the other hand, considering the possessive act he’d put on in front of the other men this morning, there was bound to be speculation.

But that shouldn’t have any bearing on what she was doing here, Glenna reminded herself. She indicated an area that was practically invisible in the shadows. “The truck Juarez’s men brought us to the house in backed up to a place on the left side of that ramp.”

Fox stretched her arm past Glenna and slid a paper across the table toward her. It was one of the diagrams they had sketched earlier. “I thought you said it was on the right.”

“Did I?”

“Could you have been confused because the truck turned around?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She frowned and rubbed her forehead. “It was on the left.”

“Be certain, Miss Hastings. This isn’t a hotel tea party we’re planning. It’s an armed assault.”

Glenna leaned over the sketch, doing her best to visualize the actual place she’d seen. Instead, a memory of Rafe flashed through her mind. He’d been lying facedown, his black jumpsuit bearing the dusty boot prints of the thugs who had thrown him into the truck. The paper blurred. “I understand the importance of what we’re doing, Captain. There’s no need to badger me.”

“I beg your pardon, Miss Hastings. Obviously you’re fatigued after all.” She opened a folder and gathered the sketch and the other papers from the table. “We’ll continue this tomorrow.”

“No.” Glenna caught the paper before she could put the diagram away. “I’m sorry. I want to do everything I can, even if I have to stay here all night. Please. Let’s go on.”

Captain Fox looked at the place where Glenna gripped the paper, then moved her gaze to her face. “Is it really that important to you?”

“Yes.” Glenna tugged it away from her and bent her head to study it once more. “Rafe told me that even something as insignificant as which direction a door opens could save someone’s life. How could I live with myself if…someone got hurt because I didn’t remember?”

“But aren’t you eager to return to your life in New York?”

The question seemed familiar. It took a moment for Glenna to remember why. Captain Fox had said something similar last month at the hospital. The assessing look was back in her eyes, too. Glenna suspected it had very little to do with the mission they were supposed to be working on. She decided to clear the air. “Do you have a problem working with me, Captain Fox?”

The captain’s delicate blond eyebrows lifted as her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Is it because of Rafe?”

“Naturally, I’m concerned about Sergeant Marek.”

“Well, so am I. And if you care about him like I do, then help me straighten out all these details about the house that are locked in my head instead of wasting our time by sniping at me.”

The captain didn’t deny the charge. Instead, a spark of challenge sprang to life in her gaze. “You said you care about Marek.”

“I owe him my life.”

“Practically every person in the squadron owes him their life. That’s no reason for you to lead him on.”

Glenna took a closer look at the young woman. Although she was dressed like a man, there was no disguising her feminine figure. She had the kind of pale complexion and delicate features that wouldn’t have been out of place in a painting by an old master. Rafe had told Glenna he wasn’t involved with another woman and she believed him. That didn’t rule out the possibility that another woman might be interested in him, though. “Despite the impression Rafe might have givarlier,” she said, “we don’t have a personal relationship.”

“That wasn’t true a month ago, and it’s not true now.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He didn’t have to tell me anything. I work in Intelligence, Miss Hastings. And I know Rafe. I’m not easy to fool.”

“Could you be jealous, Captain Fox?”

“Not even remotely, Miss Hastings. Rafe is my friend. He’s like a brother to me. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

“Neither do I. So if you can’t work with me, then I’d appreciate it if you could find someone who can. I won’t jeopardize the safety of innocent people just because you think I’m not good enough for Rafe.”

“Not good enough?” The captain rose to her feet. She took a moment to tuck her shirt neatly into her pants, then crossed her arms over the front of her uniform and regarded Glenna carefully. “You come from a rich family. You have a successful career. You’re attractive enough to have had practically every man on the team drooling over your hand. Why would anyone think you’re not good enough for an ugly man like Sergeant Marek?”

“How dare you call him ugly,” Glenna said. Her voice shook. So did her hands. To have someone who claimed to be Rafe’s friend make such an unkind comment so casually pricked her temper far worse than any remark the captain could have made about her. She tossed the paper she’d been holding to the table and stood, unconsciously mirroring the captain’s stance.

Captain Fox lifted one shoulder. “I’ve heard some women like to close their eyes anyway. In that case, he does have a lot to offer.”

“If that’s what you believe, then you’re not his friend. His face and his physical attributes are irrelevant. He has a wealth of goodness inside him. He’s the kindest, sweetest, most compassionate…” She took a few deep breaths, struggling to stay coherent. Where was her control? What about her priorities? “Please, excuse me,” she said stiffly. “I’ve been under some stress lately.”

Captain Fox made a noise suspiciously like a snicker.

“Do you find something funny?” Glenna demanded.

“Not at all. There’s nothing amusing about what Rafe has endured in his life.”

“That’s right. And it’s your loss if you can’t see him as he really is.”

“Do you see him as he really is?”

Glenna propped her fists on her hips and glared. “Yes, and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with how he looks.”

The captain no longer attempted to hide the smile that had spread over her face. This time it did reach her eyes, and the change it wrought in her demeanor was startling. “I couldn’t have put it better myself,” she said.

Glenna had a moment of disorientation, as if she’d just been thrown off a carnival ride she hadn’t known she was on. She shook her head. “I don’.”

“I’ve been trying to push your buttons all afternoon. I wondered when you would crack, but nothing got past your good manners until I insulted Rafe.”

“Why would you want to push my buttons?”

“In Eagle Squadron, we look out for our own.”

“What does that mean?”

“I saw where Rafe stood, I just had to know where you did. And one of the first things we’re taught about intelligence gathering is to use whatever means are at our disposal.” She reached for the sketch that Glenna had dropped, slipped it into the folder where she’d put the others, then stored it in her briefcase. “I’m sure it’s not that different in the business world,” she added.

As Glenna watched Captain Fox’s graceful, composed movements, the realization gradually dawned on her that she’d just been finessed by an expert. Somehow, this trim blond soldier had managed to provoke her into revealing her feelings about Rafe.

Not a small feat, since Glenna wasn’t yet clear about those feelings herself. “Captain Fox…”

“Please, call me Sarah.” She closed her laptop, added it to her briefcase and snapped the clasps shut. “Let’s call a halt for the day. We can continue this tomorrow.”

“What about the sketch of the loading bay?”

“We already accomplished twice as much as I thought we would.” She walked to the door and opened it. “Come on, Glenna, I’ll buy you a coffee.”

Rafe usually liked target practice. It was one time of the day when he could totally clear his mind. Murphy and his law notwithstanding, as long as a mechanical device was maintained and operated properly, it generally did what it was expected to do.

Take this assault rifle. It was lightweight and accurate up to five hundred meters, yet it provided enough fire-power for close quarters room clearing. The grenade launcher that was fitted to the top delivered a nice little surprise when more persuasive tactics were required. All in all, it was a versatile weapon that had served him well over the course of many missions.