Hawk (The Quiet Professionals, Book 2) (55 page)

“What do you mean?”

“I think you lost your anger and the hatred you felt toward Americans.” Zahrah leaned a little closer. “And the hatred you harbored toward our God.”

“We Afghans—most of us at least—are good people, Zahrah.”

Her cousin smiled, so prettily and unmarred by the nasty black and purple scars of frostbite. “Of course
we
are.” Zahrah laughed. “You forget, I am half Afghan.”

“It’s true…I do not feel the anger the way I once did,” she said softly. “Can I see him?”

Zahrah’s face brightened. “I thought you’d never ask.” She slipped off the bed and went to a freestanding cabinet where she retrieved a bag. “Your clothes.” From the bag, she drew out a pink silk hijab and held it up. “Yes?”

Hesitation had always been her enemy. “I may have lost my anger and gained curiosity about the Christian Messiah, but I have not lost who I am.” She nodded. “Please.”

Zahrah came to her side and brushed her hair back then expertly wrapped the hijab around her neck and face. With the hands still healing and bandaged, it was too hard and painful to do it herself. Her cousin helped her into a long tunic and pants then wheeled her down the hall.

“Knock knock,” Zahrah said as they waited before a curtained area.

“I’m decent,” came Brian’s voice.

Zahrah tugged back the curtain.

Brian stood with his back to them—a tattoo, black and large, winged across his shoulders—and struggled into a shirt, which had caught on the bandage over his right pectoral. He was stuck for a moment, and Zahrah reached over and assisted.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, then his gaze hit Fekiria. “Hey.” His tone was soft and warm as he came and squatted beside the wheelchair, angling his leg out straight. A smile, thick with emotion, creased the corners of his eyes. “How are you doing? They wouldn’t let me come down there—propriety and all.”

Zahrah slipped past them as she promised to wait in the hall.

His hands were bandaged, too, but it didn’t stop him from placing his hand over hers. “Heard you hooked up with some smelly farmer after you dumped me.”

“So, you are not angry?”

He frowned. “You left me. Of course I’m mad.” Then smiled again. “Kidding. Kiria, you’re one of the bravest women I know. Can’t say I was happy to find you gone. If I’d caught up with you, I might have buried you up there, but…”

“I had to,” she said. “You wouldn’t have gone, would you?”

“No,” he whispered. “No way I could leave you.”

Her heart thumped at his words. The soft, firm way he said them. The look in his eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t, that’s why I had to do it.”

“You did the right thing.” He smiled up at her. “And thanks for the Bible verse.”

Did he understand what she meant with that verse? Not just sharing it with him, but…

Brian gave an affirming nod. “I don’t have all the answers—that would be my granddad—and I’ll be the first to admit that God doesn’t make sense to me all the time, but I know…I
know
He watched over me, over you up there.”

“I…” She felt like she had a terrible secret. A giddy, terrible secret. “I prayed to Him, asked Him to protect you.”

Brian stared up at her for a long time. “You sure do know how to knock the wind out of a guy.”

“Hawk! Let’s go,” came a loud voice. “AHOD.”

Brian looked toward the curtain where a dark-haired, scowling soldier appeared, glanced at them for a second. “Captain wants you there.” After another look between them, he started away. “I’ll let him know you’re on your way.”

“Sorry,” Brian said.

“Go,” she said, feeling awkward and unsure. Zahrah and her American boyfriend were close to growing serious. She and Brian…was this a beginning?

“On one condition.”

Giving him a warning look, she waited.

“Promise me you won’t find some sheep farmer to hide out with while I’m gone.”

“Goat farmers are better.” She shrugged when he glowered. “They’re nicer and have phones.”

Brian leaned in, hands braced on the edges of her wheelchair. “No farmers, or I’m coming in with everything I’ve got to save you from your own foolishness.”

C
assandra Walker strode down the hall lit only by the ambient light of the two or three offices with personnel working the night shift. Her heart thumped a little harder with each step closer she came to the briefing room. He would be there. Reviewing files. Reviewing reports.

General Burnett said an attack was imminent, but details were sketchy. She wouldn’t be going with the team to recon, but she had to get Sal to talk to her. They had to clear the air.

A dozen paces from the door, she heard his voice.

Hauling in a breath, she stopped. Closed her eyes. Slumped against the thin wall. She had to get this under control. He still had too much effect on her. On her heart.

But she couldn’t escape the memories. The semidarkened offices. His charm. He had that by the boatload, but he rarely showed it. Not while on duty.

Okay. Get it together, Cassie
.

She pushed off the wall, drew in another long breath for courage, then turned the corner into the briefing area.

Sal stood with his back to her, tapping a file against the desk as he fingered another file sitting on a table to his left. Still had those broad shoulders. Trim waist.

Flashes of a shirtless Sal…taut muscles…warm kisses…passionate urging…

“What do you want?”

Cassie snapped straight. Blinked. She hadn’t even noticed he’d turned around. Swallowing probably made this worse, but she was drowning in her body’s betrayal. “We need to talk.”

Sal snorted, turned, and lifted the files from the desk then came toward her. “No. We don’t.”

“Sal, please.” She stepped into his path.

A mistake.

He was right there. Just inches between them. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t push the images that were as fresh right now as they were four years ago.

Brown eyes with gold glints held her fast. Held her hostage really. “Nothing needs to be said. You know what you did. So do I.”

A piece of her died in his words. “I—”

“No.” Fire ignited those gold flecks. His shoulders drew tight, and he hovered over her. Menacing. Powerful. “I don’t want to hear it. I never want to hear anything from you again, Cassie.”

It was still so hard to think straight in his presence. “You need to hear me out.”

“The only thing I need to do is make sure I never see you again.” Sal bumped her shoulder as he moved around her, that raw energy most didn’t understand roiling in his wake.

And truthfully, she didn’t understand why she was so drawn to it. Had been since they met back at Fort Belvoir. What terrified her was that she still responded to him the way she had as a love-struck, newly minted second lieutenant.

What would terrify her more was the day he learned of her new assignment.

Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan

25 March—1700 Hours

Sal balled up the churning anger and tossed it aside as he entered the Command building. He tugged off his cover and strode toward the rear room where Raptor had an AHOD. After their meeting earlier, they agreed to rest up, eat up, and meet back up to discuss plans.

He entered the room, eyeing Hawk, who sat at the table, his left hand sporting the angry purple welts of frostbite. His right was still partially bandaged. “Think you can handle this?” Sal asked as he slid the files onto the table.

“Yes, sir.”

They hadn’t gotten along in a while. The guy had too much machismo. Not enough wisdom.

Or maybe it was all the second-guessing since Vida.

“Good, we’re all here,” Dean said as he entered the room, trailed by Burnett. “Okay, listen up. The hard drive was messed up, but they’ve scrounged up enough to be verified. We have credible intel that an attack on the CECOM facility is imminent. We’re going to head over there and do some recon.”

Burnett sighed. “It’s insane. They’re running secondary and tertiary checks on everyone who’s been in and out of that facility in the last few months, but—”

“They might get it sorted by next Christmas,” Hawk offered.

“Exactly. There’s too much and too few resources to do the legwork.” Burnett’s hands rested on his belt. “Now, we have information on Meng-Li.” He nodded to the side. “We know he’s here in Afghanistan.”

“How are we knowing that?” Hawk asked as Hastings worked a laptop from her position next to Titanis.

“Because we have an asset with inside information that says he is. And Riordan’s team has had eyes on him for the last twenty-four.”

“Riordan?” Sal shifted. That was news to him. “Why are the SEALs involved this time?”

“Hooah,” Hawk muttered.

“Because with Raptor being the primary target of Osiris, the SEALs can flop around incognito while attention is diverted,” Burnett answered.

“We had a nasty run the last few months,” Sal said, “but we’ve garnered enough intel to have us on an
assaulting-forward
trajectory. CECOM is only the beginning. Whatever they can accomplish here, they can repeat Stateside—imagine them getting hold of soldiers’ families.”

“We must ensure that does not happen.” Burnett looked over his shoulder at the image on the wall then to Hastings. “Get Daniel Jin’s mug up there.”

“Yes, sir.” Hastings worked her fingers quickly.

An image popped up on the wall. The slick Asian looked like he had as much money as fashion sense.

“Hold up.” Hawk snapped to his feet, his face suddenly pale. “That woman—who is that woman?”

Hastings shook herself from the surprise of Hawk’s question then glanced down at her laptop. “That…that’s his paramour, we believe. She’s his right hand. Her name is Kiew Tang.”

“That’s her,” Hawk said, stabbing his blistered finger at the screen. “That’s the woman from the shanty. She held the gun to my head.”

Sal came around. Stared at the picture. “You sure?”

“Heck yeah! Think I’d forget someone pressing a silenced pistol into my forehead?”

Burnett nodded to Hastings, who lifted her laptop from the table and hurried from the room. “Good work, Bledsoe. We’ll get eyes on—”

Crack! Thud!

The ground shook.

The team rose as one, hands going to their weapons. Eyes wide. Collective breath held.

“What was that?” Dean demanded as he went to the door.

A red-faced sergeant burst into the room. “CECOM just got hit! It’s a ball of flames!”

Ronie Kendig is an award-winning, bestselling author who grew up an Army brat. After twenty-plus years of marriage, she and her hunky hero husband have a full life with four children, a Maltese Menace, and a retired military working dog in Northern Virginia. Author and speaker, Ronie loves engaging readers through her Rapid-Fire Fiction. Ronie can be found at
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