Warrior's Heart (Gifts Of The Ancients #1) (3 page)

Chapter Four

By the time they got on the road, the gloomy, misty day had turned to dusk and visibility was difficult. They made it to the grocery store’s nearly flooded parking lot with a maximum of caution, and she managed to find a relatively unwaterlogged spot near the entrance.

They got out of the car and made a dash for the front door. They didn’t make it. A car turning in to the lot took the sharp turn too fast for the wet road conditions and started to spin. Casey could only stare in horror as the huge hunk of metal spun directly at her.

Suddenly Hal was there, pushing her out of the way and practically launching himself at the car. Unbelievably, she saw him put out both his hands, like he wanted to stop the hurtling vehicle. By some miracle, it slowed. He was only pushed back a few feet with his hands on the screaming metal.

She saw the whites of the driver’s eyes as the car spun off to the side before Hal somehow stopped it, using nothing more than his bare hands. Finally, her limbs were able to move again and she ran to him.

Hal was standing with his feet braced apart, his forearms resting on his knees. He sucked in air, looking like he’d just run a long distance race. In the desert. Sweat was pouring off him, and his skin was flushed in an unhealthy way.

“Hal. Are you okay?”

Speech was apparently beyond him at the moment. She looked from his big, undamaged hands to the twin dents on the fender where he’d grabbed the old Buick. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed it.

“Hal?”

He must have heard the worry in her voice because he made an effort to answer, raising his head, gulping air.

“I’m okay.” He breathed heavily, making her disbelieve his statement. She let it go for the moment. “You?”

She couldn’t believe he was worried about her after what he’d just done.

“I’m fine. You saved me, Hal.” Her voice broke as she moved up to his side, helping him back toward her car, propping him up against the wet fender.

The old man who’d been driving was out of his car, making clucking noises. He made his way slowly over to them. Hal saw him coming and grasped her hand urgently.

“No police. No report.” His breath was coming even more harshly if that were possible, and she really started to worry.

She saw the urgency in his eyes, felt it in his super tight grip.

“I understand,” she assured him.

“Get rid of him.”

She turned back and assured the old gentleman that they were fine, encouraging him to go into the store. She couldn’t help warning him to take the corners a little slower in the rain and maybe get his tires checked. Hal was worsening. She could hear his labored breaths behind her, so she wasted little time.

She put one shoulder under his arm and half dragged him around to the passenger side of her car. She got him inside—just barely. He was too big for her to manage, but he was still able to support himself a bit, and with her guidance, made it into the passenger seat.

“I’m taking you to a hospital.”

He grabbed her arm as she settled into the driver’s seat.

“No hospital.” His breath was coming in harsh pants. “I need to get back to base.”

“But how?”

“Use my phone. Speed dial number one.”

He was gasping hard. She had to fight to understand his words. He fumbled with the phone clipped to his belt. She took over, pushing his hands gently away so she could detach the phone, but it wasn’t like any phone she’d ever seen before.

“What is this?” She was thinking aloud as she figured out what buttons to press.

“Sat phone,” he wheezed. “Don’t always have cell service where we go.”

A no-nonsense, masculine voice answered on the other end, and she explained what was going on. The disembodied voice gave her directions to a nearby heliport she’d had no idea even existed. Casey got the car back on the road and headed for the rendezvous after hanging up. Her nerves were frayed. She drove fast, shooting worried looks at the man slowly recovering beside her. He was starting to breathe a bit easier and his color was returning, but he was nowhere near normal and still had her deeply worried.

“What’s wrong with you, Hal? What happened?”

He was visibly weak and unable to lift his head very far off the headrest.

“Just get me to the heliport and I’ll be fine.”

“This has something to do with why you’re stationed on Plum Island, doesn’t it?” Her voice rose, and her panic level increased. They were only minutes from the small airfield, and she started to shake. Pushing through her reaction, she maneuvered the car off the Long Island Expressway and onto the service road.

“You’re infected with some kind of exotic bug, aren’t you?” A sob escaped before she could squelch it. “Oh Lord, you’re not going to die, are you? Dammit, Hal! You can’t be sick.”

A strong, sweaty hand reached out to her, settling on her thigh and squeezing with only a shadow of its former strength.

“Don’t cry, squirt. I’m not sick, and I’m not going to die. At least I don’t think so. And neither do the doctors who have been studying my condition.”

Her hand covered his, interlacing their fingers. She needed reassurance. Her little car raced, disregarding speed limits and most of the traffic signs. She’d never seen him so weak, and it scared her.

“I knew it. You did catch something while you were overseas.”

“Damn, squirt, you missed your calling. You should have been an interrogator. You’re not supposed to know there’s anything different about me.” He squeezed her fingers tightly to get her attention. “If anyone asks—and I mean anyone—I came down with a stomach virus. That’s it. Nothing else, Casey, you hear me? As far as you’re concerned, nothing’s different. I’m going to tell anyone who asks that I exerted myself out of your line of sight, and you didn’t see a thing. This is for your own safety, Cas. Promise me.”

“All right. Just tell me whatever it is, it’s not fatal.” She squeezed his hand right back, needing the connection.

“I shouldn’t have told you this much. They don’t think it’s fatal. Damned inconvenient and annoying, but it probably won’t end my life. Just my career.” He looked away then, out the window at the flashing scenery. She looked over at him and was dismayed by the look of regret mixed with anger. He focused on something outside in the darkness and light rain that only he could see.

“I’m sorry, Hal,” she whispered into the darkness.

They were entering the grounds of the deserted heliport now, most sane pilots not daring the light rain or the twilight dark. She saw some kind of military helicopter coming in for a landing and knew it had to be for Hal.

“That’s my ride. Just pull up as close as you can to him. They know what kind of car you’re in, so they’ll know you’re okay.”

“How do they know my car?”

He shot her a look of disbelief. “You don’t think they’d let me wander around alone without a detailed dossier on where I’d go and who I’d be with?”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “Hal, just what did you get into in Iraq?”

“More than I ever bargained for, that’s for certain.” He shook his head with weariness. “But don’t worry, Cas. You’ll be safe. Just don’t let on you know I’ve got anything more than a stomach virus. I’ll explain what I can later. For now, you’ve got to trust me. Okay, sweetheart?”

“With my life.”

She couldn’t say no to him, though she wanted to argue.

He didn’t look well, and she couldn’t bring herself to add to his worry. Casey nodded her agreement, stopping the car as close as she dared to the big chopper. Two uniformed men were already out of the military helicopter, heading directly for her car. She noted both were heavily armed, though their weapons were holstered.

One came to her door and just stood there, while the other opened Hal’s door and looked him over.

“What’d you get into this time, sir?”

“Dammit, Rick, I’d hoped they’d send Carter or Jake. They at least know how to respect rank, if nothing else.”

The other man laughed, reaching out to take Hal’s pulse. It looked like they’d done this a time or two before. When he finished checking Hal's heart rate against the high-tech watch he wore, he pinned Casey with his piercing blue gaze, catching her off guard. He reached one large hand right over Hal to grasp hers and shake once firmly.

“I’m Rick Lovelace. And you must be the famous Casey.”

She had to smile, even though she was worried sick about Hal. This man had an infectious smile and a manner that made you feel like everything would be all right, even when you knew it wouldn’t. And might never be again.

“Infamous is probably closer to the mark,” Hal muttered as she offered the other man a small smile. “Stop flirting with my girl and just help me get to the chopper.”

“Yes, sir. Anything you say, sir.”

“And stop being a smart ass.” Rick helped Hal lever himself out of the car.

“Right away, sir.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Cas.” Hal leaned down for a short goodbye. His eyes held messages he couldn’t speak aloud, and she nodded, letting him know his instructions were received and understood. He straightened and talked to Rick loud enough for her to hear every word. “I want someone to see her safely home.”

“Got you covered, Cap’n. That’s what Jeeves is here for.” Rick nodded toward the other man who moved silently from her car door to the passenger side.

“Good man,” she heard Hal say before he leaned down a little to speak to her again. “Casey, Jeeves is going with you to your place. He can find his own way home from there. He’s a member of my unit and a good friend. I trust him with my life. More importantly, I trust him with yours.”

“It really isn’t necessary. I can get home on my own.”

“Get out of the car.”

“What?” His voice had turned to steel, though he had to be held up by Rick’s firm arm under his shoulders.

“You heard me. Get out of the car and come here to me.”

She didn’t want to argue with him so weak, so she did as he asked. Oddly, the firm tone of command did something to her insides that made her want to follow his orders. She moved around the car in the light, misting rain to stand before him.

“What?”

She was caught totally off guard when he raised one hand to her cheek, pulling her close for a light kiss to her lips. He backed off, his gaze speaking volumes, but she almost couldn’t believe what it was saying.

“Let Jeeves drive. You’ve had a rough night. Let him take care of you in my place. This way I know you’ll be safe.”

His warm, rough palm stroked her cheek, and she noticed Rick watching them closely. Moving into Hal's caress, she capitulated.

“Okay. If you insist.”

With a sigh of relief, Hal jerked his head at the man they’d called Jeeves, and he moved once again to take the driver’s seat she’d just vacated. She climbed back in the passenger seat and left the door open, not minding the rain as she watched Rick help Hal to the waiting chopper.

“My name’s Jeff Penworthy. The guys call me Jeeves because I’m usually the chauffeur.”

His clipped tones brought her out of her reverie as she watched Hal make his way up into the chopper and the door close behind him.

“I guess that cute British accent has nothing to do with it?”

He looked a bit sheepish, starting her car. “Well, that might be part of it, I guess.”

“So, you’re part of Hal’s unit?” She shut the car door and watched after the chopper while Jeff got them headed toward the exit and back the way they’d come.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you think he’ll be all right?”

He watched her closely before answering. “Just a bit of stomach flu. A few of the guys have it. He should be all right in a day or two.”

She tried to smile and failed. She couldn’t let on that she suspected anything different, but she was truly worried. “I’ve just never seen him so weak before, and I knew him when we were little. I’ve seen him sick with the flu and in the hospital right after he had his appendix taken out, and I don’t remember him ever like this.”

“Well, being out in the desert does things to your constitution. We were all pretty weakened by all the months out there. It’s taken some time to readjust, and we’re still in the process of doing so.”

She knew she needed to let it drop. Hal had made her promise.

“Yes, that must be it. It was just a surprise, you know? I mean, Hal’s always been Mr. Invincible.”

“Hmm, now that’s a new nickname I think he’d get a kick out of,” the man mused. He pointed her car back toward the expressway. He didn’t seem to need any directions from her, but navigated the back roads as if he were a native.

“So, how does a Brit become a Green Beret?” She struggled for some kind of conversation to fill the miles.

“I’m only half British, actually. I was born in Florida. My dad was a Green Beret in Vietnam and when my folks split, my mom took me to live in Surrey with her family.” He took a curve almost too fast on the wet roadway, but his confident control of the vehicle made her feel somehow relaxed. “I visited Dad a few times a year until I finished school, then joined the Army after college.”

“How long have you been part of Hal’s unit?”

“Oh, I’ve known him about five years or so. Been part of the unit for just over a year. It was quite a coup when I made it onto the team. Our unit is elite, even among spec ops.”

“Why is that?” She tried not to let on just how interested she was in his response. She kept her gaze fixed out the window at the stormy night, letting him talk if he would in the cozy confines of her small car.

He shrugged. “We’re specialists with varied backgrounds. Hal and I both have degrees in ancient history, though we differ a bit in culture and time periods. I myself specialized in ancient Celtic peoples.”

“And Hal was into the Middle East and Biblical history. All that cradle of civilization stuff. I remember it from when he was in college, and I was finishing high school. He helped me with a school project once. I got an A.” Her mind was spinning. Why would the Army Special Forces be interested in ancient history?

“That’s our captain. Always the overachiever.” Jeff laughed, moving into the left lane, speeding along on the Long Island Expressway as if he did it every day. For all she knew, he did. He rested one arm on the armrest while he easily controlled the car on the wet pavement. “A couple of the other guys have similar specialties. We have three archeologists, two geologists, a medical doctor—whom you met tonight—and a couple of guys who specialize in ancient languages.”