“All we have is that he made a connection with a person of interest and he was getting ready to travel to Jakarta. He might have been recruited specifically for a mission in Jakarta. We’re not sure if he was to play a role, but these groups are very good at enlisting the disenfranchised.”
Hunter cleared his throat. “But he was an ecoterrorist, not an angry Muslim. Why would he associate with JI? Or ISIS? They’re not exactly guardians of the environment.”
Forret nodded. “He doesn’t exactly fit the profile. But who ever does? The psychologist who evaluated him said he’s obsessed with American corporations and the men who run them. The psychologist believes Billow’s behavior was a way to strike out against his father because Billow felt powerless against his abuse.”
“Could make him a perfect candidate to strike out against American companies,” Darney added.
“But I thought he targeted Dr. Walters because she reminded him of his mother,” Maddy said.
Forret shook his head and straightened his tie. “Let’s just say he has big issues with both parents. Billow was originally obsessed with you, Lieutenant Jeffers. If you had played his game, he would’ve acted much more quickly on his plan, and we all know what the outcome would’ve been. It was very fortunate that his identification with Dr. Walters swayed him away from his sexual fixation with you.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Hunter asked. Maddy had been living with a sociopath who had become obsessed with her, and she didn’t report it?
“If Billow hadn’t been distracted by Dr. Walters, he might have acted on his violent fantasies to blow up Pier 69 sooner in order to prove himself to Lieutenant Jeffers.”
The colonel leaned back in his chair and looked at Maddy. “You did good work, keeping that lunatic from acting.”
“Thank you, sir.” Maddy kept her eyes down and shifted in her seat.
“Forret, get to the point of why you need my Marines,” the colonel directed.
“The man Billow made contact with has been on our radar. He has made several trips to Jakarta where his ill uncle now lives. He and his father both served with the Afghan National Army against the Taliban. When his father was killed, he and his family immigrated to the U.S.”
Forret showed a picture of a young man in his mid-thirties with dark eyes and a beard. “This is Abu Abdul Hamman. He lives in an apartment complex in the Rainier Valley with his sister and mother. He owns a restaurant close to his home called Afghan Kebab.”
Hunter shook his head. “He served with the ANA. Why the change in political allegiance?”
“We believe that his father’s death by an American drone radicalized him, and that Abu Abdul Hamman is the link between JI and ISIS in Seattle. The Task Force didn’t have any solid leads until this connection with Billow. The man is squeaky clean.”
The colonel sat forward and watched Maddy. “Jeffers, we need your help.”
Maddy sat up straight in her chair. “Yes, sir. Whatever is necessary.”
Hunter’s insides thumped with fear. Maddy was totally competent, but she had just come off assignment and was supposed to be on medical leave for her PTSD—not that she’d ever admit to needing help.
The colonel nodded to Forret and the man continued. “We want you to do the work you were trained to do in Afghanistan. We will place you at the Women’s Refugee Center, where Abu’s sister and mother attend English classes with other women. With your knowledge of both Pashto and Dari languages, you’ll be able to infiltrate their world, gain their trust, and get us access to the brother.”
Maddy beamed. Her blue eyes sparkled, and she was grinning while Hunter’s gut churned with emotions he refused to acknowledge. He had known this was the end of his work with Maddy, but the new assignment sounded too risky. In Afghanistan, Maddy engaged with the women to gather intel, but there had been a whole platoon of Marines to keep her safe. Who was going to keep her safe in Seattle? Darney, with his freckles and round, cherubic face, who barely looked twelve years old?
“Your cover is that you have recently returned from working with the International Committee of the Red Cross,” Forret continued.
“Yes, sir.”
Hunter sat back in his chair, pretending a nonchalance he in no way felt, and waited for the colonel to assign Maddy to work in the field with Darney.
The colonel turned abruptly in his swivel chair. “Hines, I want you on this assignment, too.”
The roar of Hunter’s pounding heartbeat thundered in his ears. Heaven and hell all mixed together.
“Based on your high praise of Jeffers on the last assignment, it’s obvious you work well together.”
Hunter saw Maddy’s head jerk up. Did she really believe he was such an ass that he’d criticize her performance? Guess so, by the way her mouth slackened and she tilted her head and stared at him.
He suddenly noticed the silence in the room while everyone watched and waited.
The colonel kept looking between him and Maddy. “Is there a problem, Hines?”
As if he had a choice. “No, sir.”
“Good. Forret, tell them what you’ve set up.”
“We’ve rented a house on the same street as the apartment complex where the Hamman family lives. You’ll monitor their activities from the house. We’re not sure of risk, but we’re taking this assignment very seriously, Jeffers. Hines will be doing surveillance and will be your backup. This is a joint operation with everyone known to God as part of the team. The idea of ISIS in Seattle has every agency on high alert.”
Maddy leaned forward on her elbows, intent on the details of their mission, while Forret continued. “You’ll work at the center. Hines will pose as your engineer husband who worked on the clean water project for the ICRC while you helped reunite displaced families from the war.”
Hunter felt a kick to the solar plexus. He was going to have to live with Maddy as her husband? The gods were really messing with him. It would take all his years of discipline to keep his hands off her.
Maddy’s gasp was loud of enough for everyone to hear. “I have to…I have to pretend Hunter is my husband?” Confident Maddy seemed to have trouble breathing as she sputtered and took several deep breaths. You’d think the colonel was sending her into the deep caves of Afghanistan.
The colonel spoke in his hard-hitting, clipped voice that made probies shake in their boots. Maddy, not recognizing the threat, or simply not intimidated, drummed her fingers in staccato rhythm on the table.
“Is there a problem, Jeffers?”
“No, sir, but…”
The colonel’s rigid posture got even tauter—never a good sign. “But what?”
“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t understand why I need a husband. I’m very capable of defending myself. I’ve just completed my black belt in the Marine Corps Martial Arts program.”
“I’m very aware of your skills in the martial arts,” the colonel said, clearly unswayed by her argument.
“Yes, sir.” Her response conveyed her frustration.
Darney rolled his chair back to take a closer look at Maddy’s body. As if he hadn’t already checked out every luscious inch. The slimy bastard. “Marines are trained in the martial arts?”
“We study Okinawan karate, judo, tae kwon do, kung fu, boxing, and jujutsu. It gives us an edge in hand-to-hand combat, enabling Marines of every size to fight and defend themselves, despite the size of the enemy.” Maddy spoke to Darney but looked directly at Hunter. What had he done to warrant those baby blues filled with animosity? He thought she was the perfect size.
“Forret, can you and Darney give me a few minutes with my men?” The colonel hadn’t missed their exchange.
Forret nodded. “Sir, if there is a problem, I’m happy to team up with Jeffers.”
It took all of Hunter’s control not to take the jerk down. He knew exactly what Forret meant by teaming up with Maddy, and it wasn’t restricted to working in the field. Hunter squeezed his hands on his thighs, trying to not react.
He stood up and closed the door after the agents left.
Hunter recognized the way the colonel’s square jaw clenched in silence—not a good omen for Maddy. She had been worried about being reprimanded. Now she was in the fryer, and he couldn’t protect her from his superior’s wrath. Marines worked as a team. Her questioning of her assignment bordered on insubordinate.
“Hines, you didn’t report that there was friction between you and Jeffers.”
“Sir, this is as big of a surprise to me as it is to you. I didn’t know Jeffers found it difficult to work with me.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice but knew the colonel heard it.
“Sir, I had no trouble on my last assignment with Major Hines. We worked well together, but I was on my own in the field. I don’t see a need for us to be living in the same house.”
The colonel shook his head. “These are conservative, religious women. To be accepted, you’ll need to be married. It will give you more leeway, help your cover.”
Hunter snorted.
“Another one of your side editorial comments, Major Hines?” Maddy chimed in a too-sweet voice.
“You think religious women are going to accept you when you dress in that kind of getup?” Hunter stared at her, trying to intimidate with his patented piercing look.
Not in the least bit daunted, Maddy bolted out of her seat and glared back. “There’s nothing wrong with my clothes. If you weren’t a dried-up old stick, you’d realize this is the way women dress.”
Colonel Dawson chuckled. “You two are already acting like an old married couple.”
Maddy’s face turned beet red. She sat back down.
“Sir. For devout Muslims, the husband’s word is law. As you can see, Maddy will never be able to play the part of a subservient wife.” Hunter was as reluctant as Maddy to accept the assignment, albeit for very different reasons.
The colonel rubbed his square jaw with his thick fingers. “You’ll only have to pretend you’re married when you’re seen together in public. Is that too hard for you, Jeffers?”
That he allowed her such leeway was another surprising facet of the colonel’s relationship with Maddy.
“No, sir. I’ll have no problem. But, sir, I’m having trouble believing Major Hines can carry off his role as a caring husband.”
The colonel stood. “Your concerns have been duly noted, but this isn’t a choice for either of you.”
Hunter stewed over Maddy’s comment. If Maddy were his, he’d take tender care of her marshmallow center and her hard-ass persona.
Hunter turned toward the colonel. “Is there any information suggesting that the mother and sister are involved in any way?”
The colonel shook his head. “I doubt either one has any knowledge of Hamman’s activities. This is a fishing expedition to see if we can catch the big one.” The colonel rose and walked toward the door, then turned back. “Seems like you both have a lot of work to do. I expect you to expunge your existence in Seattle and move into the house on Tuesday…a young couple in love. This is the new face of fighting the war on terror.”
Chapter Three
Maddy held her M4 carbine while she mentally shifted through what she’d need, undecided whether to bring her rifle or not. Sorting through the entire contents of her rucksack wasn’t simple. Everything she owned was spread on the bedroom floor in Angie Hines’s apartment while she tried to decide what might be necessary for this unusual assignment. She had no reason to take the rifle, but as a Marine, her rifle and knife were as essential as makeup and hair products for other women.
The right side of the small bedroom held the leave-behind pile, mostly items necessary for an invasion assignment such as boots, cold weather gear, GPS, chem lights, med kit, first strike rations. Finally, after way too much dithering, she placed her rifle in that pile.
On the left side were the definite-takes—her Glock, three magazines, her knife, her urban survival kit, including her Bogota Mini go-to picks, a universal handcuff key that couldn’t be metal-detected, and straight and key-style shims.
Her sleep system gear wouldn’t be necessary since she would be living in a house with a husband. She shook her head. This next assignment was like nothing she had ever tackled. Translating and engaging with the women would be easy; the prospect of living with Hunter left her restless and nervous. She lifted her high heels. The light, strappy shoes had been worth the forty bucks to rile up Hunter. Her inner brat was still doing a victory jig.
Angie walked into the bedroom and caught her red-handed, gloating over the high heels and the effect they had on Hunter. “Are you working undercover as a prostitute?” Angie joked, knowing Maddy couldn’t share anything about her new assignment.
“No, I wore them to a meeting where I had to look the part of an office worker.”
Angie snorted. “There is more to this story. You were messing with someone. And why do I get the feeling it was my brother?”
Angie did the same covert work as Maddy and, like her half-brother, was a talented intelligence agent. Maddy got a crick in her neck every time she talked to her lanky roommate. And like her brother, Angie was almost always a head taller than anyone else in the room. She also had the same jet black eyes and full lips as Hunter. The differences between the siblings were that Angie was quick to laugh and had generous curves, whereas Hunter brooded and was rock-solid muscle.
Today, the prominent dark circles around Angie’s eyes looked like bruises against her yellow-olive skin. Maddy had heard Angie walking around the apartment in the middle of the night. Nightmares of IED explosions kept them both awake regularly.
Angie dropped to her butt and sat with her legs crossed on the floor next to Maddy’s sleep gear, holding a floppy-eared bunny against her chest.
“Was it like when we dressed in those tight skirts and tanks to put it to Joe Hunnex?” Angie howled with a deep laugh. “The asshole kept calling us ‘lesbos’ under his breath.”
“I’ll never forget the drool on the side of his open mouth and the difficulty he had swallowing when we sashayed into the canteen. I still have those dangly earrings somewhere.” Maddy grinned. “I was glad they kicked him out. He was no Marine. But I’d love to take down his two-hundred-pound flabby butt now that I have my black belt.”
She and Angie had worked their asses off to prove themselves to their male counterparts. But there were times when a woman needed to use her God-given gifts and audacity to rattle the male brain bias.
“Need to level the playing field with Hunter? Shake up his detached, analytical approach?” Angie’s dark eyes gleamed, showing way too much interest in Maddy’s relationship with him.
Maddy didn’t want to criticize Angie’s brother, but since she would soon be Hunter’s proxy wife and she hadn’t worked out how she felt about the hunky man… “Kind of.”
Angie snorted. “Fess up!”
“He’s good at his job, and he’s always professional, but…”
“You can tell me. He’s the brother I hardly know. But it was awfully sweet that he came to help search for me.”
Now it was time for Maddy to snort. “Sweet? Hunter, sweet?”
“I find it endearing to know he felt the need to protect me.”
“But that’s the problem. I almost prefer the sexist comments. At least you know where you stand with them. Hunter never says anything, but his dark, scrutinizing looks accuse me of not measuring up to his expectations. Somehow he doesn’t see me as competent.”
“Yeah, he’s got that you’re-a-problem look down perfectly. He uses his intense stares and size to intimidate people the same way our father did. The old man never raised his voice, but he’d give you one look and you felt two inches high. I guess it’s why Hunter and I are both Marines, still trying to prove ourselves to our departed dad.”
“What happened to Hunter’s mom?”
“His mother split for someone in my father’s battalion when Hunter was ten. Left him to be raised by our bitter father, a no-nonsense M
arine.”
Maddy nodded. “That explains a lot. I try not to take his coldness personally. He never openly criticizes, but he looks at me as if I’m some sort of alien, newly arrived on earth, or I’m suspected of a horrendous crime. And I’m not sure if it’s because I’m a woman.”
“It’s definitely the woman deal. Nothing to do with your competency as a Marine. My brother has the hots for you.”
“I don’t believe it.” Then Maddy remembered the way his wide chest hitched and his face got two bright red spots when he first saw her all gussied up in her “office” dress and shoes.
“I’m sure he has some whacked up notion about women. My dad was pretty bitter, and he fed Hunter a lot of bullshit.”
“But your father married your mom. He must have loved her.”
Angie shrugged. “What kid understands why their parents got married?”
Maddy flashed on her girlhood memories of her parents. She remembered they loved each other.
“My father was handsome, just like Hunter,” Angie continued. “Big, muscular, black hair, with those same piercing eyes. My mom was older and lonely. I asked her once if she regretted marrying him, and all she said was if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have had me. Kind of telling, huh?”
“I remember my parents laughing.” Maddy remembered a lot, but now, fifteen years after their car accident, she didn’t really know how much was real and how much was fantasy. But those daydreams had helped her survive in the crazy foster homes. “But I’ll never know if they were truly happy.”
Angie stretched her long legs “We’ll miss you at meetings. Everyone keeps asking about you.”
“I called Dr. Dagger and told her I’m on assignment and would be back to PTSD group as soon as I could. How are Shana and Lois?”
“Trying to forget.”
Angie had suffered the most traumatic experience of those in their PTSD recovery group. She and Angie had been part of a special group of Marine women trained to gather information from the local women in Afghanistan. They were working in a small village believed to be a hiding place for the Taliban.
The Grayce Walters Romantic Suspense Series Page 65
