Rough and Ready (32 page)

"Max will be so happy," Serenity said.

"Will he?" Hilda wondered. "I won't tell him yet. I want to find the right time."

Both women nodded.

Is Torolf the type of man who could plant his seed in a woman, then leave the child of his loins forever? Hilda knew the answer to that question. He would take control of decisions, like he had taken control of her fate here by ordering guards till he returned.

So, when Torolf called Ralph on his black box that night, and Ralph handed the box to her, pressing it to her ear, she said nothing about the pregnancy.

Besides, she knew he was going on a dangerous mission. He needed to focus his attention solely in that direction. Knowing of her pregnancy might be a distraction.

"How are you, sweetheart?"

"Just bloody wonderful. Where are you?" She still could not grasp the concept of his voice being in the box.

"At the base. I hear you had a little trouble there today."

"What? My jailers reported to you already? Didst they tell you how many times I pissed today, too?"

He laughed. "Don't be so stubborn, honey. And don't take your frustrations out on those guys. They're just doing their job. I'll be back soon. Then you can berate me all you want."

"Well, Jolene and Serenity are staying here with me now, and I will hear no objections from you."

"Doesn't bother me, if Ralph and Pete can handle all of you." He chuckled then.

"You're setting up another sanctuary there, aren't you?"

That thought had not occurred to her, but she liked the idea. "Did you know people can have fat sucked out of their bodies in this country? And did you know that women can make their breasts get bigger? What a country this is, where people can shrink and enlarge body parts."

"Hilda, you are not getting a boob job."

More orders!

"What other new things are you learning?" he asked.

"Why did you not tell me I have a space between my front teeth? All these years, even when I had a polished brass mirror, I never noticed. But Lizzy told me of a mouth dock-whore who can fix them with caps."

"I like your teeth and your smile. Don't change them."

"You are just saying that."

"No, I'm not. Is that all that's new there?" he asked then.

She put the box away from her ear and studied it. Could he guess her secrets now? "That is all you need to know."

"Uh-oh!"

Uh-oh is right, you randy rabbit. Getting me with child.

"I need to go now. Ralph wants me to model my busty-air for him," she lied.

"You better be kidding."

"Dost think so?"

"We have lots of things to discuss when I get back, Hildy."

More than you know.

"So, hold on."

"Have I any choice?"

He chuckled, then seemed to hesitate. "I love you."

Hilda put a hand to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. She wanted to spill everything to him then, tell him she was with child, that she was scared and confused and wished he were there to help her make a decision. In the end, though, all she said was, "I love you, too."

Pink Panther he was not…

Dick Phillips sat in a tree on the outskirts of Hog Heaven, his binoculars trained on the trailer where his alien stayed.

Two gorillas guarded his target, along with two other women. Were they aliens, too? The guards would have to make a mistake sometime. In the meantime, he'd called for backup, figuring he should take all three women in for testing…

just

in case.

He had a blind set up in this tree, like hunters used. On it he had his video and still cameras, both with telephoto lenses, a gun, a small cooler with food, a notebook, a tape recorder, and the high-power telescope.

His two-week leave would end soon, but no way was he going to give up this project. If the hospital wouldn't grant him an extension, he would quit. He could always get another job, but he might not ever have another chance to catch an alien.

This was the most exciting adventure of Dick's life. He was taking notes for a potential book. He already knew what suit he would wear on Larry King. Women would be impressed by all this work he was doing.

He smiled, thinking about all the good things in his future.

Then it began to rain.

When a trailer becomes a sardine can…

Torolf called her late on Thor's day… the first he'd been able to get to a talking box in days. He would be leaving early tomorrow… Frigg's day, and he would not be back till next Frigg's day. Or later. If ever.

She put a hand to her heart as she listened to his precious voice. Would it be the last time? She choked back her tears, not wanting his last word from her to be a negative one.

"Hey, sweetie," he said.

"Hey, sweetling," she said back.

"Ralph says it's getting a little crowded there."

"Not too crowded. I share a bed with Jolene, and Lizzy has the other bedchamber with Serenity." Lizzy was in the midst of a one-week break from her teaching job, and she had just left her live-in lover, who had been cheating on her.

Hilda had not even known that Lizzy had a live-in lover. "I want to go outside, Torolf. Tell your guards to take us to the shopping mall, or the food mart.

Somewhere. Anywhere."

"No, we can't risk it. I've had further intel, and that guy Phillips has been seen in the area. Buying electronic equipment. Food at a local convenience store. He's around there, honey, and you've got to stay put."

"I will," Hilda said, but just for Torolf's peace of mind. "Pete has developed an affection for Lizzy," she told him then.

"Oh, yeah? How affectionate?"

"Just smitten at this point. By the by, did I tell you that Tissie is coming to visit for a few days?"

"Hilda! It's only a trailer. There's not enough room for all those people…

and

bodyguards, too."

"We get by."

"Ralph says you've been sick."

"Naaay, I have not. Just a reaction to his worm and blood dish, which he insists on serving every blessed day."

He laughed. "It's spaghetti, hon, not worms. Try it."

"I would rather eat… worms."

He laughed. "Gotta go. I love you."

"I love you, too."

"See you when I see you, babe." Under his breath, before he ended their conversation, she thought she heard him add, "Pray for me."

When Daddy goes marching off to war, hoo-yah, hoo-yah!…

"Go, go, go!" the commander's voice sounded in all their earphones.

Like clockwork, a Black Hawk flew overhead in the predawn light, and immediately a dozen SEALs, including Cage, fast-roped down to form the perimeter around this operation. Torolf was in the backseat of the Hummer, which started barreling down the residential Tikrit street, swerving here and there to avoid parked cars. There were no pedestrians this early. Sly was on one side of him and JAM

on the other. Pretty Boy and Dawson sandwiched Geek in the front seat. They were all geared up and fully loaded, adrenaline pumping through their veins like junkies on a coke high. Coming to a screeching halt in front of the designated safe house, the doors flew open and he yelled, "Kill zone! Haul ass!" They all jumped out, rifles in position, and rushed forward.

"Open! Open!" JAM shouted in Arabic to the door.

They heard a rustle inside the house, but when the door didn't open, JAM

stepped

back, and Sly and Geek used a battering ram and their boots to knock the door in. Each of them headed in a different direction, as planned.

In the kitchen, he found a woman with a child in front of her. Both were dressed in Arab attire, which was suspicious for this time of the morning. There was a time when a soldier would have lowered his rifle for women and children. Not anymore. Too many women, and even kids, carried bombs these days.

"In here. In here," he ordered with his minimal Arab skills, motioning them to enter a small pantry. When they hesitated, even though they had to understand him, he shoved them in and did a quick full-body search, then gagged and restrained them. He shut the door on them and put a chair under the handle.

It

would hold for now.

When he left the kitchen, rifle raised, he saw JAM steering a gentleman in Arab headgear toward the living room wall. The unhappy gent was hurling an unending stream of Arab at him.

"Saddami?" he inquired.

"Nope," JAM said, motioning upward even as he quickly put handcuffs and a gag on the tango, then led him outdoors.

Dawson came from another room, rifle pressed into the back of a young woman whose dark eyes spelled hatred. She wore an Arab-style pantsuit—he forgot the name for it—and a hijab, one of those scarves that cover the hair and tied under the chin, hanging down to a long vee in the back. She spat out in clumsy English, "Evil American pigs! May Allah strike you dead!" She, too, got a gag and walking orders to the Humvee.

Then he and Pretty Boy raced up the stairs two at a time to aid Geek, who was about to break down a locked door. They used hand signals, not wanting to speak for fear they would reveal their positions to the tangos, who would then be able to blast some ammo through the wood barrier.

Geek broke the door down with a swift kick of his boot, then ducked, just missing the bullets from an MP5 submachine gun. He and Pretty Boy were crouched on either side of the door. Peering in carefully, Pretty Boy made further signals to him, and all three of them charged in, rifles blazing. Within seconds, Saddami lay on the floor, oozing blood from three different wounds: the forehead, the throat, and the belly. All around him were laptops, filing cabinets, and videotapes. Pay dirt!

Pretty Boy, being the communications expert, was already on his Motorola telling CENTCOM that they would need another Black Hawk to pick up the SEALs. Pretty Boy and Dawson could take care of transporting the perps.

They signaled for help to carry out all the evidence and soon had everything packed in the Humvee, along with the two captives, which immediately took off, gunfire hitting the heavy vehicles from some nearby houses.

"Disengage. I repeat, disengage," they all heard in their headsets.

Quickly, he, Geek, and JAM fast-roped up to a second Black Hawk, and just in time, too, because some tangos were rushing down the street, screaming epithets, guns firings. The SEALs could have taken a stand, but when the enemy was in your sights, you were in theirs. Always good to play it safe when the stakes were this high.

As the two Black Hawks flew away from the scene, and hopefully Pretty Boy and Dawson made it back to camp, no one spoke. They were breathing heavily, hearts racing, knowing they had escaped the reaper one more time. The pucker factor was high going in; coming out, it was pure adrenaline. Finally, still jacked up, they grinned at each other and shouted, "Hoo-yah!"

The entire operation had taken twenty-seven minutes.

One tango dead, two tangos in captivity, documents that could draw more rats out of their holes, and no good guys down. All in a day's work… a good day's work.

Only then did Torolf allow himself to think of Hilda.

No one was keeping Cinderella away from THIS ball…

Torolf had been back in Ah-mare-eek-ah for two whole days, and he had not come to her. To say that Hilda was seething would be like saying gammelost was a mite unpleasant.

Oh, he had called her often, but he kept making excuses about why he could not come yet. First, it was something called a debriefing. Then his team was required to go to a head doctor. Then there had been a press conference.

Well, Hilda had had more than enough. Especially since she had just asked him casually, on the talking box, "What do you think about having children?"

A deadly silence had followed her question, and then he had asked, "Why?"

"Oh, do not go getting your bowels in an uproar. I only ask because of a conversation I had today with Serenity. She was talking about her men-oh-pause and her regrets over never having had children. She wanted to know if I, being barren and all, shared her regrets."

"Ah, honey."

She did not feel any guilt over the lie because the lout making those cooing sounds of sympathy should be here.

"I was not seeking sympathy. I merely asked if you regret never having children."

"Regret? I'm too young for regrets in that regard, but as to kids… Holy hell, do you have any idea what it was like to grow up in a family with twelve brothers and sisters? It was always chaos. And, I don't mean to be gross, but I can still recognize the smell of baby shit and baby vomit from twenty paces. So, don't feel bad about not being able to have kids, Hilda. I wouldn't miss them a bit."

Hilda's heart dropped at that news. He does not want children. Oh, gods, what do I do now? "What time will you be here this afternoon?" It was barely past the breaking fast time.

"Uh, actually, there's a problem, honey."

Another problem. I am beginning to think he is avoiding me.

"I have to go to a ball this evening, and after that I should be free. The order came from the top. No ducking out. It's only one more commitment I have to get out of the way."

The lout is going to a ball and he is overdefensive. Hmmmm. Putting her hand over the talking box, she asked Ralph, who was eating worms and blood again, "What is a ball?"

Ralph shrugged. "A toy that bounces up and down." Ralph was getting accustomed to her incessant questions.

"You are going to a bouncing toy?" she asked Torolf.

He laughed. "Not that kind of ball. This is a fancy dance, a reception kind of thing."

Hilda did not say anything, but her fury began to rise. He could not come here because he was going to dance? With whom? Other men? Nay, he would not do that.

She would bet her busty-air that there would be women there.

Without another word, she pressed the Off button on the talking box. She refused to come out of the bathing chamber every time the talking box rang and Ralph banged on the door. "Tell the lout to go… dance."

Torolf gave up finally, and for some reason the silence was even harder to bear than the image of him holding another woman in that form of foresport…