Hawk (The Quiet Professionals, Book 2) (23 page)

“After having my hands tied and watching a soldier die when I could’ve stopped it, I’d like to think I have a little more invested in making this stop than some grunt out there who’s been staring at code and traces for the last week or month.”

After another heavy sigh, the major started out of the room. “Come with me.”

Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan

17 January—1930 Hours

Reviewing her manual to stay fresh while the panel reviewed the event, Fekiria sat at a table poring over the flight instructions. The intricacies of advanced flying skills. Sitting here for three hours hadn’t made the information seep into her brain, which was locked on the team who had gone over the aircraft then the flight recordings. All to determine if she had done something wrong. Or should have done something different.

Like never climbed in the cockpit
.

Chin resting on the heel of her hand, she let the questions overtake her again. What was her brother doing there? He’d always had a particularly sharp tongue, little patience, and even less tolerance for her antics. But this? Outright wickedness? Waving guns around? Holding his own sister hostage?

She almost laughed. Keeping her hostage would’ve been something he’d have taken pleasure in as an older brother. Not because of any malice but because he was her brother. But now…

Was there a darkness in Adeeb? Something wicked that drove him to wield a gun at her. Command men who answered to a terrorist? A darker, graver thought worried her—did this make Adeeb a terrorist? What would Baba think?

Oh! Fekiria pressed a fist to her breast. Madar would be shattered, knowing her son went down the same path that had brought so much war and death to their country.

They were traditional in their values, committed to Islam.

Am I?

The question, the very doubt that lingered in the back of her mind like a…a stain on her soul, bothered her.
Of course I believe in Islam!

What craziness!

There had been too much stress. Too many incidents that left her afraid and…uncertain. What
did
she know? What
did
she believe—about life, about love, about everything?

The thoughts, gaining strength and vigor, rushed her like a gale trying to toss down an aircraft that didn’t belong in its domain. Fekiria cupped her hands against her forehead and closed her eyes. She was independent and successful. A self-made woman.

“Yet more confused than ever,” she whispered over a throat raw with thick emotion.

Warm pressure came to her back as a voice said, “Are you okay?”

At Captain Ripley’s question, Fekiria straightened and purposefully tucked aside her doubts and tears. “Yes. Just…tired.” Her gaze fell on the open manual, and she hoped it was enough to convince him she wasn’t lying. She pressed her spine into the chair as he sat beside her.

“You look more than tired.” His brows knotted as he considered her. Then he reached up and brushed the side of her cheek. “That’s a tear…” He said it as if he didn’t believe what he saw.

And neither did Fekiria, who glanced at his fingertip, surprised at the shiny drop. She wiped her eye to make sure there weren’t any more. “I…I guess it was from yawning too hard.” The nervous laugh didn’t cover her lie, and she hated lying to Captain Ripley. He was a nice man. “Anyway, why are you here?” It was not like he was just dropping by with the way she had sought an out-of-the-way spot to study and think.

No, that wasn’t true. She had wanted to be alone. Away from her classmate who kept telling her she should date Captain Ripley. Away from the safety officers assessing her every move, looking for a reason she might try to steal or sabotage their aircraft. And away from the man sitting here with her now. Mostly because she wasn’t sure what direction to go with him. Was she being unreasonable?

“I got word from CID that their decision is coming close. An inside source”—at this he winked—“told me that things looked pretty positive. He doubts they are going to levy any punishment, let alone ground you permanently.”

She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “That is very good news. I am relieved.” Her stomach turned and twisted, knowing that wasn’t the only reason he’d come here. Maybe she should leave before—

“Fekiria?”

Warm dread poured down her. She hated that he used her real name. It felt wrong. Invasive, somehow. She slid a wary gaze in his direction.

“I care about you, and I’m concerned.”

Her pulse skipped a beat. Where was this going?

“You haven’t been the same since you returned.” Captain Ripley leaned forward. “Are you okay? Did something…something happen…?”

Crazy the way a simple shake of his head seemed to speak so much. “No. I told you everything.” Except about Adeeb. That wouldn’t—
couldn’t
—come out. The panel would ground her for sure. “Why? What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know. You’ve been withdrawn. When you see me coming, you look like you want to hide. The openness and free spirit I’d always admired is gone.”

Fekiria chewed her lip, nervous. What he described had little to do with the event a few days ago and everything to do with wrong impressions. “It is true, I am stressed. Scared, even. They could take my wings away.” She pushed her most fearful expression toward him.

Captain Ripley, facing her, placed a hand on the back of her chair. And it seemed to jam her breath in her throat. “I won’t let that happen. You’re a great pilot—you have strong instincts up there. If they come back with a negative decision, I will fight it.” He was close. Too close. “I won’t lose you.”

She blinked.
Won’t lose me?

Before she could react, he leaned in.

For a kiss!

Fekiria jerked her face to the side. Shame raced through her. And anger. She grabbed her book and shoved to her feet. “I’m sorry. I should get some rest.” Though she didn’t look directly at him, she could see his downward gaze, his disappointment. “Thank you for trying to cheer me up.” Right. With a kiss?

She turned and headed out of the small classroom, manual clutched to her chest. Heat washed down her spine. She was furious. Scared. Not because she had almost been kissed by Captain Ripley. But because she had worked too hard and too long to gain her flight status, and if the panel even saw a hint of romance between her and Captain Ripley, it would all be gone.

As she pushed open the door, her heart thumped hard. One of the majors from the panel stood in a library office, phone in hand, staring out at her. The message he telegraphed made her fears seem realized.

The possibility of losing everything seemed more real than ever before.

M
eeting here is dangerous.”

Hands in his pockets, Daniel stared at the man who’d sold out his country, sold his soul, for money. Disgust swirled through him as he watched the uniformed man look around the open desert road they stood on. “Do you not feel safe?”

Blue eyes caught his. “With the stunts your people are pulling?
No
, I don’t feel safe.” He hunched his shoulders, apparently against the bitter wind.

“You mean with the stunts
you
are helping us pull off. “Daniel watched the man squirm. For the right price, the soldier had compromised his own people but could not accept the blame that sat so squarely on his shoulders.

“Look, I’m here.” He scowled and looked around again. “What do you want?”

Though the freezing temperatures tugged at his coat, Daniel refused to let it affect him. Refused to let this weak, impudent American destroy so many months of hard work. He slid his gaze over the landscape. The mountains bordered his homeland and felt familiar. Freeing. “We need ‘eyes in’ again.”

“No.” The man seemed to have found his manhood. “Not again. They know they’re being watched. They’re sweeping randomly, and if I’m caught—”

“You
will
be caught.” Daniel felt his own heart thud, giving away a piece of his plan. But he watched the man grow uneasy. “
If
you are careless. Risk is a game we must all play to succeed. It is inherent in every decision we make. Some risks are higher than others, but they exist.”

“Look,” the soldier said, his hair mussed by the strong fingers of winter. “This isn’t me. I don’t betray my country. I just need the money—got a sick kid back home. After the furlough, we couldn’t afford his treatment.”

“Now you can.” Keeping the curl from his lip, Daniel focused on the weakness he must exploit. “It is clear your son means a lot to you, and the opportunity to afford his treatment is one you would not ignore. You are a dedicated father, and it’s obvious you would do anything for him.”

The man looked perturbed. “What good does it do if I die?”

“Now, you are being dramatic. I thought your son was what mattered to you.”

The soldier cursed, and Daniel knew he had him. “I need access to a system. One of my people will show up at this location.” He handed him a slip of paper. “You need to make sure they get in. And out.”

“I’m telling you—it won’t work. They are only letting specific personnel enter those facilities now.” He stuffed his hands in his Army-issued heavy jacket.

“But you will make it happen.” Daniel straightened and turned toward the waiting car. “I know you could never forgive yourself if your son died because you were too weak to take the necessary risks to ensure his well-being.” How did men like that get so high up the ranks in the Western military? The man would have been handed a gun and left to take care of his own failings in China.

“Are you threatening him?”

Daniel closed the door, the tint-darkened view giving him no pleasure. “It is a promise.”

N
othing frustrated Brian more than knowing there was a lead somewhere in a mess of a code and not being able to find it.

He took that back. One thing frustrated him more—even angered him. Knowing someone was toying with him. Being made a fool of. That’s what his efforts here tonight felt like. Every turn, every pathway he ventured down seemed to turn back on him. Like some twisted time loop that had him bumping into himself over and over.

But yeah—this guy was in here somewhere. Staring right back at him, if Brian guessed right. He’d find him. Eventually. Because it was impossible to remove every trace of a hacker’s identity. Humans were humans. They made mistakes. Which meant the dog meat messing with his friends was out there, had left a signature, a fingerprint, a piece of DNA, so to speak.

And the only trick was knowing where to look.

But that was like trying to find one maggot in a bag of rice.

Shoulders knotted with tension, he roughed his hands over his face, trying to brush away the burning in his eyes. Exhaustion plied a yawn out of him. He stretched, a fist over his mouth, as another yawn took hold.

But he wasn’t giving up. Not with the way this guy nearly killed Raptor. Brian clicked around, read some code, wondered what Captain Watters would do—or what he was doing.
Probably sleeping, like a sane person
.

Or visiting his girlfriend. Didn’t guys do that? Lose track of time when they’re hanging with a chick they’re into?

Sad to say, he’d spent too many nights crashing at a girl’s house. That was in high school. Time and deployment didn’t afford him that now. Of course, the older he got, the more the one-night flings didn’t satisfy.

Granddad would have a long talk prepared for that type of behavior.

Brian sat back, the chair tilting as he did, and thought of Granddad. Wondered how that Mustang was doing.

How had Granddad known the lines to read between Brian’s streaming code of silence? He’d nailed the problem.
He knows me
. A weird thought. Nobody knew him.

Nobody
wanted
to know him.

Brian had worked hard and long to keep it that way. Keep people at a safe distance so they couldn’t know what Brian Bledsoe was really like. And as long as they kept a safe perimeter, nobody would know.