by Mandy Harbin
Call me when you get up. I should be home from class by then.
Crap. She’d hoped for her brother’s contact information since time was a premium, but she was grateful Heather had replied right away.
Caitlin clicked the video icon to initiate a call with her.
“Hey, girl!” Heather said from the other side.
Caitlin squinted from how bright the screen suddenly turned when the video connected. She had left her light off in her room, not wanting to alert any of the guys to her being awake. She threw the covers over her and her laptop.
“Are you making a blanket fort?” Heather asked.
Caitlin laughed slightly. “Not exactly.” Though it totally looked like it. “Don’t need to when I’m in a real one.”
Heather nodded. “True, girl. And speaking of…how was your trip?”
“Long. Got in mid-day a couple of days ago and feels like I’ve been going non-stop ever since.”
“They wasted no time, huh?”
“Nope. Got the tour, got the lecture, got tossed into the middle of fire. You’re average war zone stuff.”
Heather’s mouth fell open. “Tell me you’re kidding. Why does it look like you’re not joking?”
“’Cause I’m not.”
“What?” Heather whispered heatedly.
“Look, I’ll give you the low down when I get back. We’ll swap stories, catch up on everything, including any new developments with that guy Roc you told me about,” Caitlin said, raising one eyebrow. She’d heard about how he’d come to her rescue, and from the sound of it, he’d had a crush on his coworker’s sister. Heather bit her lip, and Caitlin smirked.
“There’s nothing going on,” Heather said quickly.
“Um-hmm, okay. Whatever. We’ll talk all about your denial when I get back. Right now, I need some info from you not involving your love life. Or lack thereof.”
“Is this your way of buttering me up? Because I gotta tell ya, you suck at it.”
Caitlin chuckled. “Just keeping it real.”
“All right, how can I help?”
“I need to find out about this guy who’s showing me around—”
“Ohhh, what’s that look?”
“What? I don’t have a look.”
“Call me, talking smack about a boy, all the while you got something going on with someone on the frontline.” She shimmied in her seat like she was about to get the latest gossip.
“That’s not why—”
“Don’t you dare deny it. I’ve been around you too many times with my brother within a five-mile radius not to know what you look like when you’re mooning over someone.”
Did her cheeks get red? It felt like she was on fire. “It was a childhood crush,” she defended. That lasted into young adulthood, but she wasn’t going to admit that. “He’s actually the reason I need to talk to you,” she added slowly.
“Hunter?”
“Yeah. I need to know about the guy he arranged to protect me while I’m here. What’s his story?”
Heather bit her lip, obviously fighting a smile. Her friend wasn’t going to give up taunting her about him.
“I hate you,” Caitlin muttered without any real anger.
“You love me…almost as much as you love solider boy.”
“Jesus, can you focus for like three minutes? I don’t have much time here.”
“All right, all right.” Heather waved her hand. “I don’t know anything about the guy really. Hunter said he called in a favor.”
“Someone must’ve owed him big time if he was able to get a Navy SEAL to lead a team of men to be my personal bodyguards.”
“What you do you mean a team of men? I thought he was going to get one guy to watch over you.”
“If by one, you mean seven. And by watch over, you mean micromanage my every minute, then yes.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. But I’m pretty sure it’s the leader that got roped into doing this because of Hunter’s involvement.”
“Er, why? Couldn’t it be any one of them?” she asked, furrowing her brow.
“Because he’s the boss, and well, he made a comment when I met him that led me to believe this assignment isn’t the norm.”
“I doubt there’s much normal about war.”
“True, but I’d like to know how Hunter arranged this and just what he knows about the guy. Is he on this platform or have an active email address I can use to reach him?”
“Not really. I mean, he set up an account one day because Maya wanted him to RSVP for a party.”
“Call Me Ishmael?”
Heather laughed. “Yep. She suggested Hermy the Frog, but he quickly rejected that. Still, he refused to put any personal information up there, and when she tagged him on a pic, he threatened to close the account if she did it again. Dude is seriously worried about having his information out there.”
“Figured that was the case. I found that profile and tried messaging him, but wasn’t sure if he ever really got on it.”
“He probably checks it but is not active, if you know what I mean. I’ll tell him he needs to look for your message, though.”
“Thanks. Not the first time I’ve come across a conspiracy theorist.” In her line of work, she’d encountered a few sources who didn’t want to be easily found, thinking the world was out to get them. “I really can’t picture Hunter being the paranoid type.”
“He’s not. There’s a lot you don’t know about him,” she said, frowning slightly.
“So I’ve heard. Care to tell me now?” When Heather had said this before, Caitlin was heading out of the country. Plus, they hadn’t actually been away from prying ears to talk freely.
Heather glanced to the side. “Okay, look, he got into some real shit back in Dallas after he moved away.”
“Like, what kind of trouble are we talking about here?”
“The mafia kind.”
“What?” Caitlin asked, drawing out the one-word question.
“He’s not proud of it, and he got out before things got really bad,” she added quickly. “Remember Maya’s ex?”
“How can I forget? Dude kidnapped you.” Not that she’d ever met the guy, but she’d heard all about him after Maya came into the picture.
“Right, and there’s a connection with all that to Hunter’s past, but that’s not really the point here.”
“I’m not following.” Heather was speaking in circles.
“Long story short, Hunter’s bad boy past is how he became involved with The Bang Shift.”
“Why does a garage care about his past as long as he can do the work?” Unless she meant they hadn’t held his questionable youth against him when hiring him. Caitlin got the feeling it wasn’t that simple.
“Because they’re all not just mechanics.”
“What does that mean?” She gasped. “Is it a chop shop? Do they steal cars and sell them?”
“No, not that, but remember that guy who owned the garage before?”
She knit her brow, scanning her memory. “Um, Sheppard, something.”
“Yeah. He brought all of those guys together to work on cars legitimately, but they’re mainly mercenaries. They work on cars as more of a side gig.”
Her words slowly clicked into place. Mercenaries? How was that even possible? It was such a small place, away from large cities and borders. It was a peaceful town. She admittedly fell out of the loop on what was going on in Mayflower, Arkansas the last couple of years while she worked night and day in Atlanta on her career, but surely she’d have heard about this.
Unless they were so good they’d managed to keep it secret all these years. That didn’t seem possible. Her job had shown her there was always a weak link willing to sell a story.
She quickly thought back to what she did know to figure out why she’d missed this. She knew Bear bought the garage after the previous owner had died in an accident. Oh no. Had they killed him? That’s what mercenaries did. They killed people.
&n
bsp; For money.
She hadn’t had any dealings with those who engaged in that sort of thing, but she’d covered a story once on mercenaries kidnapping a humanitarian. It hadn’t been about murder then, but the motivation had still been the same.
Money. That she did know. Everything they did was about the almighty dollar.
Was Axle somehow involved? He’d said he’d rather be taking out marks than protecting her. Did that mean he was a mercenary, too? Was he doing this for money? Had he been hired to watch her, rather than just assigned to protect her? She’d assumed Hunter had pulled strings to make it happen, not open a wallet.
A more alarming thought hit her. Had Axle killed people for money? “No,” she yelled, yanking the covers off, needing to break free of physical and mental blocks she’d had in place. No way. No. Way! That couldn’t be. None of this could be true.
“Whatever you’re thinking, girl, I don’t think it’s that bad—”
Her door busted open, banging on the opposite wall, and Axle stormed in.
She squeaked, slamming her laptop shut on instinct that had been propped on her lap, and gaped at him. “What the hell?”
His wild gaze darted around the room, looking for something. The other guys shuffled in behind him, all cramped in her room. Just barged in without any warning.
How dare he come in here like this.
“Are you kidding me?” she yelled, tossing her computer to a pillow and jumping up from the bed. She was not through talking to Heather, but she didn’t want Axle knowing she was digging into him. “Just what do you think you’re—”
“Why did you scream?” he demanded.
“None of your business. I didn’t scream for you,” she said, crossing her arms. Her mind was still reeling at the possibility this man wasn’t just a warrior for the government, but one for the private sector too. She glared at him. “You’d know it if that happened.”
She was baiting him, and she didn’t care. As he took in the room and the men behind him, his stance began to relax. Whatever had instigated this, he’d obviously jumped to the wrong conclusion.
“What’s going on? What did I miss?” Acker asked, mouth around a muffin as he strolled into the room. She hadn’t realized he’d been missing a few seconds ago. Although he’d asked it casually, his other hand reached for his sidearm. She instinctively raised her arms.
Oh, crap. Where all these guys mercenaries? She had no idea just how far this secret element even went, but she had to act normal until she figured it out. They’d think something was off if she didn’t stand up to them. She’d already shown them she had a feisty streak.
“Your fearless leader, that’s what.” She turned to Axle, staring daggers. He ran his hand through his hair.
“I can see you’re mad—”
“I’m pissed.” That was true, but it was just one facet of the myriad of emotions coursing through her. She had so much to process. “Get out.”
“Yes, ma’am,” one of the guys said, which looked to irritate Axle all over again.
“Don’t move,” he ordered but never took his gaze off her. “Like I said. I can see you’re mad, and I apologize for coming in—”
“Barging. For barging in.” She dropped her arms and put her hands on her hips. “You interrupted an important call.”
“You did not have anything on your schedule. Had I known you had a meeting, this could have been avoided.”
“Unlike those guys,” she said, pointing at each man crowding around him, “I don’t take orders from you.”
“While you’re here, you do.”
“Get bent, asshole.” A risky move calling him a name, she knew that, but anger and confusion were beating out shock and fear at the moment. If Hunter was paying this guy, that changed everything. She respected men in uniform. Really, she did, but if he was being compensated for this, she sure as hell wasn’t going to blindly fall in line with whatever he said.
Not that she’d been eager about it before.
His face turned red, and the men behind him took a few steps back. Caitlin immediately regretted letting her rage get the best of her. If he was a mercenary who killed for money, maybe he would also eliminate someone he considered a nuisance.
A mouthy one at that.
God, she hoped this man wasn’t a contract killer.
Get it together. She swallowed in an effort to bring some moisture back into her suddenly dry throat. Although the thought of him being a cold-blooded murderer had just taunted her, she had no proof of that.
Nor did she want to truly believe it.
Her conversation with Heather had just gotten her mind soaring with all kinds of scenarios, and she needed time to wrap her head around it all to be able to look at this news objectively. Hunter was a mercenary. That she did know. She just wasn’t sure of anything else at this point.
Axle checked his watch, and then slowly said, “You have thirty-seven minutes before we have to be at the helicopter.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond. He turned around, barked at the men to meet him outside, and closed the door behind him.
Without hesitation, she dove for the bed and opened her laptop. She tried to call Heather back, but she didn’t answer. She opened a message to Hunter.
Talked to Heather, and she confirmed this is your account. We need to talk. I’ll have an Internet connection again in fourteen hours or so. I’ll try to reach you then.
The bombing wouldn’t be the only big story she had to work on while in this battleground, but where her official assignment would be easy to remain objective, she knew this other one would be much more difficult to draw that line
Her old crush was a mercenary, and this new guy could be one too.
Didn’t matter how hot he was. If he was hired gun, she’d ignore any more attraction to him—yes, attraction. She had to admit that to herself. It was why she’d been more shocked of the possibility of Axle being a mercenary than by the news of Hunter actually living that life.
If Axle was one, she’d make sure she didn’t grow anymore attached to him, and the only way she knew how to stop it in its tracks was getting him and his team off this assignment.
Because if he was working her, any interest he’d shown might not have been genuine.
He could be playing her…completely.
Chapter Seven
Axle stormed out of the barracks with his team falling in line behind him. The blood rushed in his veins and heart pounded with effort that shouldn’t even be there, but he was angry, and worse, he couldn’t do anything about it.
Caitlin was right. He’d barged in unannounced. Yes, she’d screamed, and yes, he had every right to make sure she was okay, but he was letting her get to him on a mental level, and it was really screwing up his game.
He took two deep breaths before facing his men. “What is the status of the helo?”
“Preflight checklist is being conducted, sir,” Glick said. The man was one of the quieter ones on the team, but seemed to be the most laser focused.
“I don’t want a repeat of yesterday.”
“No, Sir,” they all said.
He relaxed his stance a little, getting into the right headspace for this assignment. “I know we can’t predict when insurgents will strike, but we can do better.” He looked at each of the men. “I need a drone. Anyone have an Air Force connection with a qualified pilot?” If they didn’t, that was fine. Part of being on a team not only involved utilizing those members’ skills, but also their knowledge. Once the Major General approved the use an unmanned aerial vehicle for reconnaissance, the man would ensure he was assigned a member with the appropriate credentials. However, Axle always preferred to use people who’d proven their abilities in the real world, not just good marks on simulations for certification purposes.
He got several negative responses and a couple of names, but those two were either stationed in another country or home from deployment. He sent Glick to inquire with the pilot assigned to their flyovers
for recommendations.
Axle went over the stops on today’s schedule with the remaining members to make sure they all understood what was expected. He then executed several orders to the others in preparation for today’s mission. Once he dismissed them to conduct their assignments, he turned back to the barracks.
And stopped.
He was close enough to keep an eye on the building from here without invading her personal space again. He wanted to go back in, though, which was even more reason not to.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he pulled out his phone.
“Major General Burge,” his new commander answered.
“Sorry to bother you so early, Sir.”
“The war never sleeps.”
“Yes, Sir,” he said. “You are aware of the complication we endured yesterday.” It wasn’t a question. Axle was aware the man stayed up to speed on everything that happened to the men and women of this base and especially when they traveled off it.
He cleared his throat. “It’s dangerous out there. That’s why I have you protecting her, Landry.”
“Understood. I’d like UAV use permission, Sir.”
“For how long?”
“Every day.”
“Do you have any idea how much that’d cost?”
“Yes, Sir, which is why I wouldn’t request it unless I felt it was necessary. Satellite surveillance isn’t enough.”
He didn’t say anything right away. “Has anyone ever saved your life, Landry?” he asked as if contemplating something greater than what they’d just been discussing.
“Yes, Sir. Had my sights on a target for about five hours outside a known killing field, waiting for a clean shot that wouldn’t give up my location. We’d been keeping watch of a small stealth group of insurgents who’d been making their way toward us.” He hesitated. “But they had a member who’d broken off from the group long before we saw them. He came in from the opposite direction.”
“So they found you before you found them,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Yes, Sir. My spotter saw him a split second before I did. He threw his knife, lodging it in the shooter’s throat right before his gun discharged. The bullet ricocheted three inches from my head.”
