Talon: Combat Tracking Team (A Breed Apart) (10 page)

Dane cocked his head, understanding her accusation. “You said he had PTSD.”

“He’s getting better.”

He ran a hand through his hair. The longer strands swung into his face.
“Getting
better doesn’t do us much good in hostile territory.”

“Let her worry about that.”

They both spun toward the door. Propped against the jamb, Heath had his arms folded again. The proverbial big brother look plastered on his face. No wonder Darci loved that man. Would Aspen ever find a man so protective and gentle, yet every bit the warrior?

“She can worry about anything she wants,” Dane said, an edge to his voice. “But taking a damaged dog into who-knows-what—”

“Please.” Aspen’s heart jammed into her throat as she caressed Talon’s head. “Don’t call him that.”

“I meant no harm.”

“I know.” Nobody ever did. But it hurt more than anyone could imagine and more than she could possibly explain. “You said you know the last place Austin was seen—”

“Possibly
seen.”

Aspen held up both hands. “Right. But if there’s a chance, then that scent is one Talon can pick up. He’s our best chance of figuring out if who you saw was Austin.” Tentatively, she touched that trembling thread of hope.
Austin…
“If we can get a team together—”

“I can put one together.”

Point of no return. He’d said the words. Started the opening dialogue of commitment to this mission. With her.

He wanted to curse himself. Cut his eyes out so he couldn’t see the hopeful longing in her icy-blue eyes. Eyes so pale they looked cold, yet nothing but warmth flowed from this woman. Angel. The fight club guy had called her that. Now Cardinal understood why. The fire lingering beneath that cool, sultry surface could singe the unsuspecting.

But he wasn’t unsuspecting. This was his doing. She’d walked right into his trap. Grinding his teeth, he stood there, waiting as she stared up at him. Expecting. Hoping.

“You can?” A voice soft and pleading like that should be illegal.

Soft, pleading voices had never affected Cardinal. Most often, as now, the woman had no idea how they’d played into his carefully laid plans. But her voice…that hope…the common thread of knowing Austin.

That’s what was different this time. They both knew Austin. That’s why it pulled at him. Barreled over his conscience.

“How can you put together a team?” Suspicion oozed out of the former Green Beret. Daniels was bred to mistrust those he didn’t know. The Army and multiple tours of combat did that.

“I got a call after my interview with Ms. Larabie.” Cardinal avoided the woman’s gaze, watching as the Lab and the other dog, Trinity, loped around the porch. “There is a team ready and willing to help.” He gave a light, halfhearted shrug. “A high-ranking DIA officer offered it to me.”

“DIA?” Daniels perked up.

Act hesitant. Didn’t want to give himself away. “Uh, yeah. You know them?”

A wall of granite would’ve been easier to read than Daniels’s face. “Go on.”

“Right, okay. Well, he told me they’re with me if I decide to do something.” Cardinal checked out Talon, now on his belly. “Just not sure about this, especially about the dog.”

“Talon should go.” Aspen stepped closer to Cardinal.

Pure. Pure trust. Pure beauty. Pure innocence. Pure Aspen. Angel.

And then the angel flew
. A cold breeze swept over him. Cardinal hauled his thoughts into line and flogged them. “Are you sure? What if he shuts down or goes nuts on us?”

“He was Austin’s partner.” Fiery determination sparked in her eyes. “If Talon caught his scent…I think there’d be no stopping him.”

“But what if there is?”

“We take Trinity.” Daniels joined them and leaned back against the railing that stretched the perimeter of the house. “She’s Talon’s new woman. She keeps him motivated.” He smirked. “He’ll find his way. If Austin is out there, she’ll help Talon find him.”

Not good—having the former Green Beret and his M
WD
on hand would increase the chances of things falling apart, of Cardinal’s identity and dealings being compromised. He’d have to find reasons to exclude the man that wouldn’t appear artificial. Arrange something…

No, he wouldn’t put this man in danger. Getting married in two weeks, Daniels should be able to walk down the aisle on his own two feet.

“Give me forty-eight hours.” Cardinal had to take control of this before they stepped in. “I’ll be in touch.”

Aspen nudged into his way. “If something comes up, how can I reach you?”

Cardinal hesitated, ignoring his steel barriers that demanded he spout off some gruff answer like he’d call her. He tugged his wallet out, plucked a card, and passed it to her. “Forty-eight hours.”

She scanned the information, tapped it against her hand, then bobbed her head. “I’ll be waiting.”

The way she said that, why did he find himself reading into those words?

He gave a curt nod to her and the others then climbed into the rental. As he aimed the sedan down the dusty road to the gate, he kept his gaze forward, though in his periphery he could tell Aspen watched. For that reason, he restrained the disgust spiraling through his veins. The urge to punch the dash. The fire that lit across his shoulders.

It worked. Perfectly.

She’d played right into his hands. Easiest deck he ever dealt. It could not have been scripted more precisely. He read her right. Read the men in her life right. Every ploy had been dead on. She responded as if he had puppeted her. He’d known—
known
—what was in her because of the hunger, the deep, burning ache for resolve where her brother was concerned. Resolution.

He could relate. There were answers in his life he wanted, questions eliminated. Loved ones located.

But that man no longer existed. Cardinal. That was his name. His identity. Bestowed on him by Burnett because of their first meeting at the church.

That’s exactly what he needed right now. A church. Confession. To purge this evil he had allowed to seep into his soul. Cultivated by manipulating Aspen Courtland.

She trusted him. Those blue eyes…so much like—

Cardinal drove his fist into the dash. Pain and fire spiked through his knuckles and darted up his arm, nerves tingling. Teeth clamped, he accelerated. The faceplate of the stereo system cracked. Warmth sped down his arm, dripped onto the gearshift. He snatched his phone and coded in.

“Go ahead, Cardinal.”

“I need Burnett.”

“He’s unavailable.”

“Well, you tell him I’m through. I’m not doing this. I’m gone.”

    Seven    

P
laster exploded.

Neil Crane threw himself backward with a curse. Pulse hammering, he scrabbled over the dirt, dust, and Sheetrock. Light speared through the hole created by the bullet. As he checked his six, three more beams of light fractured the haven of darkness.

AK-47 cradled in his arms, he sprinted through the darkened hall.

“Go, go!” he shouted as he ran. Ahead, he saw her burst from behind another wall. In a dead run, she broke into the searing brightness of another brutally hot day.

He caught up with her. Catching the drag strap of her vest, he prayed for just one more mercy. They’d lived every day of the last three months on nothing but mercy. That fed his conviction that they were doing the right thing. That they had a purpose beyond sucking up oxygen.

“There.” He pointed to an alley to the right. “Go!”

As he sprinted with her at his side into the narrow space between two buildings, he heard the shouts of their pursuers behind them.

Thudding boots and creaking-groaning vehicles. More shouts. Rock and dirt burst up. From the side, wood splintered.

She tripped. Went down.

He dragged her back into motion.

“There,” she gasped, her breath sucked in by the grueling pace.

He searched, uncertain what she referred to. “Wha—?”

With a grunt, she threw herself toward a wall.

A split second of panic snatched the air from his lungs. Was she hit? Then he saw it.

She rolled forward and dropped out of sight.

In a dive, he prayed this worked as he dropped into the darkness. Into the stench.