Six Minutes to Midnight

by Elle James

  She nodded, her cheeks burning. “Thanks.”

  “We’re all due to report to Commander Ward in the command center,” Big Jake reminded them.

  Kinsley nodded, all her grogginess wiped clean. They were back. Rules and regulations couldn’t be ignored. She couldn’t hold T-Mac’s hand or steal a kiss whenever she liked. Tired, grungy and ready for a shower and a real bed, she squared her shoulders and marched alongside the SEALs, her hand wrapped around Agar’s lead. The vacation was over.

  Ha! Some vacation. They’d been shot at, nearly blown up and on the run for the past thirty-six hours. And somewhere in there had been the most magical point of her life. Making love with T-Mac had changed everything. Inside, her heart bubbled with the need to shout out how good he’d made her feel. How he’d lit a fire inside the woman in her. Couldn’t everyone see that? T-Mac had made her feel so very different.

  And she could do nothing about it.

  Kinsley pushed her hair behind her ears and tried to tuck it into the back of her shirt. She’d long since lost the elastic band that held it off her face. Yet she would stand in front of the mission commander, in her dirty uniform, and tell him everything that had happened.

  Except what she considered the most significant...what had happened between her and T-Mac.

  If the truth got out, neither one of their careers would survive. Time to suck it up and be a professional. In order to do that, she’d have to cut all ties and forget what had happened between her and T-Mac.

  Like that would ever happen.

  Even if she’d never forget her night with the SEAL, she would have to pretend it never took place.

  Somehow, she made it through the debrief. When she left the command center, T-Mac cornered her in the shadow of one of the buildings.

  “Kinsley, I can’t pretend what we have together means nothing. I don’t want this to be the end.”

  Her heart pinching in her chest, Kinsley held up her hand and shook her head. “Don’t.”

  He gripped her arms. “What do you mean?”

  “We’re on two divergent paths, heading in completely different directions. We are destined to be apart. The sooner we accept that, the better off we’ll both be.”

  He held her arms for a moment longer. When footsteps sounded on the gravel, he dropped his hands. “Is that the way you want it?”

  She nodded, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “It is.”

  “Very well.” He took a step back. “I’ll let you have time to think about it. But I can tell you now... I don’t give up that easily. I wouldn’t have come as far as I have... I wouldn’t have made it through SEAL training if I gave up on what I wanted.” He leaned closer so only she could hear his next words. “And I want you, Kinsley Anderson. I. Want. You.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  T-Mac walked away from Kinsley, his chest tight, his fists clenched. He wanted to turn and run right back to her and kiss her until she changed her mind. He knew, deep inside, that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She couldn’t have faked her response to him when he’d held her in his arms and made sweet love to her. And she couldn’t have faked how much she enjoyed kissing him when they were waiting for the helicopter.

  She was a rule follower, and the rules were firmly in place at Camp Lemonnier. Breaking them would get them in trouble, and T-Mac didn’t want to jeopardize Kinsley’s career. He’d pushed the limits, bent a few rules and done things that could have harmed his own career, but he couldn’t sabotage Kinsley’s. She loved working with Agar. He knew a dog handler might not always get to work with the same dog. Kinsley knew it, too. If she were reassigned or got off active duty, Agar would still belong to the army. Until he was retired, he’d have to go back to work. With another handler.

  If Kinsley got in sufficient trouble, she could be kicked out of the military or reassigned to a different skill set and no longer be allowed to train with the dogs.

  T-Mac’s strides ate the distance as he passed the motor pool. The acrid scent of something burning irritated his nose. A yell made him slow to a stop and glance around.

  “Someone help!” a voice cried out. “Man down!”

  T-Mac altered his direction and headed toward the sound—and a growing cloud of black smoke.

  As he rounded the corner of the motor-pool building, he could see a young marine dragging another man in uniform across the pavement.

  T-Mac ran toward them, grabbed one of the inert man’s arms and helped the marine drag him out of the smoke.

  Harm, Diesel, Pitbull, Big Jake and Buck appeared beside him.

  Buck dove in. “Let me check for a pulse.”

  T-Mac moved aside while Buck put his medical training to good use. He pressed his fingers to the base of the man’s throat and stared at his chest. “No pulse and he’s not breathing.” Immediately, Buck began compressions against the man’s chest. “Breathe for him while I work on his pulse.” He pointed at the young marine standing by. “You! Get help.”

  The marine sprinted toward the next building.

  Soon they were surrounded by people. A fire truck arrived and an ambulance pulled up. The trained medics took over from Buck.

  The firefighters went to work on the fire burning inside the building. The medics loaded the injured man into the back of the ambulance and whisked him away to the medical facility, leaving the rest to pick up, clean up and get on with their own work.

  T-Mac found the marine who’d originally pulled the man out of the motor-pool building. “What happened?”

  The young man shrugged. “I don’t know. One minute, Jones was fine. I went to the base exchange to get us a candy bar, and when I got back, smoke was billowing out of the building. I ran in to find Jones on the floor. If you hadn’t come along...” He shook his head, his cheeks smudged with soot. “Do you think he’ll make it?”

  Buck stood beside T-Mac. “We did all we could. It’s up to the medics and the doctors now.”

  “I don’t get it. What would have started that fire?” He stared at the building where the firefighters were winding up the hoses.

  “You should head to the medical facility and have them check you out for smoke inhalation.”

  The marine squared his shoulders. “I’m fine. But I’ll go check on Jones.”

  “Seriously, man.” Buck touched the man’s shoulder. “Smoke inhalation might not hit you immediately. Better safe than sorry.”

  “Okay. I’ll check in with the doc.” The marine left.

  The SEALs stood staring at the wreckage of the motor-pool building.

  “What are the chances,” T-Mac mused, “that we find a vehicle from this motor pool in the hands of Al-Shabaab, and the next thing we know, the motor pool building and all its records are burned to the ground?”

  Big Jake shook his head. “Too much of a coincidence.”

  T-Mac’s jaw tightened. “I don’t believe in coincidence.”

  “We still don’t know who was after your little dog handler,” Harm reminded him.

  T-Mac turned away from the building. “You’re right.”

  “Her dog should keep her safe,” Diesel assured him.

  “Yeah, but he can only do so much.” T-Mac left his team and walked toward the containerized living units. His walk became a jog, and then he was sprinting toward the one assigned to Kinsley. When he arrived, he pounded on the door.

  When he got no answer, he glanced around wildly. She wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He pounded again. “Specialist Anderson!”

  A female poked her head out of the unit beside Kinsley’s and frowned. “Hey, you might want to keep it down. Some of us work nights.”

  “Do you know where Specialist Anderson is?” he asked.

  “No, but she might be in the shower unit.” When T-Mac turned in that direction, the woman added, “I wouldn’t go barging in on her. They frown on
that kind of thing, you know.” She chuckled and closed the door.

  “Looking for me?” a voice said behind T-Mac.

  He turned to find Kinsley wearing her PT gear and shower shoes. She carried a shower caddie of toiletries and her hair was wound up, turban-style, in a towel. Agar stood at her side, his coat slick and damp.

  T-Mac caught himself before he did something stupid, like grab her and pull her into his arms.

  She frowned. “Is everything all right?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure you’re safe.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “There was an accident at the motor pool. A fire and a man knocked unconscious.”

  Her eyes rounded. “That’s awful. Is he going to be okay?”

  “I don’t know.” He explained his concern about the fire coming on the heels of finding the motor-pool truck in the Al-Shabaab camp.

  “You think the fire and attack in the motor pool had something to do with the stolen truck?” She pulled the towel from her head, looped it over her shoulder and finger combed her hair.

  “What do you think?” he asked, wishing he could run his hands through her wet hair.

  “Sounds too coincidental to me.” She glanced down at the ground. “Do you think someone is trying to destroy the record of who checked it out?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  “Are all records stored online now?” she asked.

  “I’m pretty sure they are,” T-Mac said. “But the fire could have destroyed the computer.” He lifted his head. “And the data might be stored on a database at a remote server.” T-Mac smiled. “I’ll check on that.”

  “In the meantime,” Kinsley nodded toward her quarters, “I have a date with a blow dryer.”

  “Okay then.” He stepped aside.

  As she passed, he touched her arm. “I’m still not giving up on us.”

  She sighed and stared at the fingers on her arm. “Do you know how hard it is not to throw myself into your arms?” she whispered. Her gaze rose to meet his. “Just leave me alone. I can’t be this close to you and not touch you. It’s killing me.”

  As it was killing him. He nodded. “Don’t let your guard down for a minute. Whoever attacked the guy in the motor pool might still consider you a threat.”

  “I don’t know why. It’s not like I remember anything from the attack in that village.” She pressed her lips together. “But I’ll be careful. And Agar will be with me at all times.”

  “Good.” He nodded toward her door. “Let Agar go in first.”

  She gave him a gentle smile. “I always do.” Kinsley turned toward her unit and stopped. “For the unofficial record, I miss being out in the desert, just you and me.”

  “Then why won’t you consider seeing me again?”

  Kinsley smiled sadly. “Because it will make the parting even harder. We’re both married to our careers.”

  He smiled. “Then I want a divorce.”

  “You can’t. You and I both have a number of years to complete our obligations.” She lifted her head and stared directly into his eyes. “We can’t tell the army and navy to go take a hike just because we might want to be together.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because of all the attributes we’ve identified we like about each other, including loyalty and patriotism.”

  “But I don’t want to give up on you...on us,” he said, and reached out for her hand.

  She stepped back and glanced right and left. “We can’t be together, and it would be foolish to think otherwise. Long-distance relationships rarely work.”

  “I’m willing to give it a try.”

  “I’m not willing to hold you to it.”

  T-Mac pounded his fist into his palm. “Damn it, Kinsley, why do you have to be so obstinate and...and...” He sighed. “Most likely right.”

  She smiled, her eyes glistening with what he suspected were unshed tears. “Give it time. You’ll forget Djibouti ever happened.”

  “Nope. Not a possibility. I don’t want to forget it, and I suspect you don’t either.”

  “For now, respect my decision,” she said, and looked up at him, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye. “Leave me alone.”

  He inhaled a long, deep breath to calm his hammering heart. Then he let it out. “Okay. For now. But this isn’t over. I won’t let it be.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It has to be.” Then she ducked past him and entered her unit with Agar, shutting the door behind them.

  * * *

  ONCE THE DOOR was closed behind Agar, Kinsley let the tears fall unchecked. She threw herself onto her bunk and hugged her pillow to her face to muffle the sobs. She wanted to be with T-Mac more than she wanted to breathe. But they couldn’t abandon their careers. They each had a commitment to uphold. She had three more years on her current enlistment. In three years, they could each find someone else. Someone who wasn’t so far away.

  Yet Kinsley was certain she wouldn’t find anyone she cared about as much as she’d learned to care about T-Mac in the few short days she’d known him. But he had an important job to do. He needed all his focus to be on staying alive and accomplishing his assigned dangerous missions. Trying to work out the logistics of a long-distance relationship would only make him lose focus. And that could be deadly.

  After a good cry, she dried her tears, pulled back her hair, dressed in her uniform and went to the chow hall for dinner. She hoped she wouldn’t run into anyone from T-Mac’s SEAL team. Agar trotted along at her side.

  In the dining facility, she collected a tray of food, not really hungry but knowing she had to keep up her strength should she and Agar be assigned to another mission. At the very least, she might be put back on gate-guard rotation. At that moment, she’d almost prefer the monotony of guarding the entrance of the camp. At least then she wouldn’t run the risk of bumping into T-Mac.

  Her gaze drifted to the door more often than she cared to admit. Part of her wanted T-Mac to walk through. Another part prayed he wouldn’t.

  “Mind if I sit with you?” a voice said, drawing her attention away from the entrance.

  She looked up to find Mr. Toland hovering over her, holding a tray of food. Kinsley shrugged. “Not at all,” she said, though she’d rather be alone with her thoughts. But she didn’t want to be rude to the contractor.

  “I hear you and one of the navy SEALs have been on quite the adventure.”

  Using her fork, she stabbed the meat on her platter and cut it with a knife. “If you want to call it that,” she replied.

  “We all thought you and the SEAL were casualties when you didn’t make it back with the others.”

  “We weren’t,” she said, stating the obvious.

  “I was surprised they sent you out again after your last mission resulted in a concussion.”

  Tired of the man’s conversation, Kinsley turned to him and gave him a direct stare. “I’m sorry, sir, but information about missions is classified. I’m not allowed to discuss the details.”

  He held up his hands. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble.”

  Good. Then maybe you can go away. She wanted to say the words, but she refused to take out her bad temper on the contractor.

  “I was just worried about you. You remind me of my daughter.” He smiled. “How are you feeling after the concussion?”

  Feeling a little guilty for jumping down the man’s throat, Kinsley answered, “Perfectly fine, except for a little memory loss.”

  “Really?” Mr. Toland nodded. “Sometimes situationally induced concussions can result in memory loss. You don’t remember anything before the blow that knocked you unconscious?”

  She frowned hard, trying to force the memories out. Finally, she shook her head. “Nothing.” But I feel like I’m forgetting something really i
mportant. She stared into the man’s eyes. “You know, like it’s right there on the edge of my memory, just waiting to come back.” She laughed. “Maybe I just need another knock in the head for it to shake loose.” Kinsley shrugged. “At least I didn’t forget how to work with Agar or how to hold my fork.” She lifted her utensil as proof.

  “Strange thing, the brain,” Mr. Toland said. “I’ve heard of people never recalling tragic events. Then I’ve heard of people suddenly remembering all of it.”

  “You never know with amnesia.” Kinsley wished she could forget how much she cared for T-Mac. Then again, she didn’t want to forget, because he was such an important part of her life. He’d shown her how real her emotions could be and how much she wanted that in her life.

  She stared down at her tray, giving up on refueling her body. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go for a run.” She stowed her tray, gathered Agar’s lead in her hand and left the dining facility.

  The only way she could clear her mind was to run until she was too tired to think. Even then, she doubted she’d forget T-Mac. Most likely, he’d haunt her dreams for years to come.

  Outside, she hurried back to her quarters and slipped out of her uniform and into her PT clothes. Agar danced around her, knowing he would be included on her run. The dog needed to blow off steam as much as Kinsley. A run around the perimeter would be just what they both needed.

  When she stepped out of her quarters and started for the field beyond, she spotted T-Mac jogging ahead of her.

  She almost turned around and went back into her container to hide.

  Agar tugged on his lead, eager to get out and run.

  Kinsley couldn’t disappoint the animal. He needed the exercise, and she had to get used to seeing T-Mac in passing until they left to return to the States. Hadn’t his commander said something about them redeploying in four days? That had been a few days before. If they were still on track to return to Virginia, they’d be leaving soon.

  Good. At least then she could start down the road to recovery. In the meantime, she jogged behind T-Mac, admiring the way his muscles bunched and how graceful he was when he ran.