Lethal Game

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Lethal Game Page 2

by Julie Rowe


  Colonel Maximillian smiled. “Do you mind working with a woman?”

  “No, sir. Sharp mentioned the possibility I’d be paired with a woman.” Man, woman, two-headed alien, he didn’t care as long as they shared a common enemy.

  “You’re okay with that? No hesitations?”

  The colonel seemed unusually concerned.

  What the hell? While he might smack down a fellow Special Forces soldier, he’d never lay a hand on a woman.

  “Sir, I’m the youngest of five children with four older sisters. Working with or for a woman is nothing new to me.”

  “Good.” Maximillian nodded. “I don’t mean to sound paranoid, but the doctor you’re going to be working with is somewhat high-strung.”

  “High-strung?”

  The colonel shook his head. “That’s the wrong description. She doesn’t trust...people. I’ve been trying to find a suitable partner for her, but I’ve been unsuccessful.”

  “Unsuccessful?”

  “Most people look at her and see a young woman who looks as if she’d have trouble with breaking a nail. Coddle her in any way and she’ll find a way to make you miserable.”

  The bottom of Con’s stomach grew cold. “So why me?”

  “Growing up with sisters is part of it.”

  This interview was a personality test. Fuck.

  “You’ve also been through some challenging combat situations and I think that will give you a level of experience she’ll respect.”

  Con had to work to keep a growl out of his voice. “I’m not going to sit around the campfire telling her war stories.” What he’d seen wouldn’t instill confidence in anyone.

  “I don’t expect you to. She works best with people who are highly competent, who don’t brag or try to impress.”

  First time he’d been complimented on his ability to keep his trap shut.

  “Another issue is her age. She’s young, she’s a genius and she has absolutely no idea how to talk to anyone who isn’t a scientist or doctor.”

  That didn’t leave a whole lot of people. “Genius, as in graduated from medical school really young?”

  “She’s twenty-four and is the youngest physician in the USA to have a double speciality in virology and hematology.”

  “Virology, I get. Hematology?”

  “The study of blood cells.”

  If she was an overachiever, he could work with that. “So, work is her life, and before that, it was school?”

  “Exactly.”

  “S’okay. My second-oldest sister is married to a physicist. He speaks math, and we get along just fine.”

  Maximillian quirked an eyebrow. “You speak math?”

  “Nope. I speak barbecue. Everyone has something to say about properly grilling a steak.”

  The colonel laughed. “You’ll do. Time to meet her.” He stepped out of his office and led the way down a hall. “Oh, and call me Max. It’s shorter.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Max sighed as he opened a door with a key and preceded Con inside.

  The room they entered was part office and part lab, with a couple of desks and two tall microscopes set up on the end of each. Papers and boxes of slides littered both surfaces. Only one of the desks was occupied.

  A woman sat looking through the lens of one of the microscopes. Her hair was white-blond and pulled back into a severe bun. She wore an army uniform with a lab coat over top. When she saw Max, she pushed away from the scope, stood and moved to meet them.

  The blonde from last night. With her hair pulled back, she could have passed for even younger than twenty-four.

  Fucking gorgeous. He took that thought, hog-tied it and shoved it into a dark corner. His personal mission left no room for anything beyond a professional relationship.

  She also looked ready to rip someone’s head off.

  “Sophia,” Max said. “This is your new partner, Communications Sergeant Connor Button.” He turned to Con. “Connor, this is Captain Sophia Perry.” Her mouth, pressed into a thin line, convinced him to pretend last night hadn’t happened. He nodded at her respectfully. “Good to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and displaying a huge bruise on her right hand.

  Must’ve hurt.

  “This is who you found to babysit me, Max? A fossil?”

  Damn, she came out swinging. Maybe he’d let her win this bout. Con managed to keep a straight face and said in a hesitant voice, “I’m only twenty-nine.”

  “Would you rather I pair you up with someone who follows all the rules and regulations?” Max asked her, irritation showing in his rigid posture. “This guy—” he pointed a thumb at Con “—hates inside-the-box thinking as much as you do.”

  “Oh yeah?” she said, looking Con full in the face. A challenge. Why was she so pissed off? Because she didn’t think she needed a babysitter?

  He shrugged, then coughed to hide a chuckle. If he laughed now, she’d think he was laughing at her. “I don’t like boxes. They’re never big enough, and they’re too...square.”

  She blinked at him, then narrowed her gaze. “What did you do to draw this duty? It had to have been bad.”

  Max opened his mouth, but Con didn’t want to escalate things, so he spoke first, and went with the unvarnished truth. “I got blown up. I spent almost seven months in hospitals and physical therapy. The last three or four months I’ve been instructing and getting back into shape.” He smiled at her. “When I found out what my first mission was going to be, bodyguarding some army doctor, I thought what the fuck? I sure as shit didn’t want easy duty. But having talked with Max here, I’ve changed my mind.” He shifted his gaze to Max’s face. “This isn’t easy duty, is it, sir?”

  “No. It’s not a matter of if there will be another biological weapon attack somewhere in this part of the world, it’s when.”

  “My role isn’t just to bodyguard Dr. Perry, is it?”

  “No.” Max began pacing back and forth between Con and Sophia. “We have intel that points to the Biological Response Team as a specific target. I don’t want you to just protect Sophia, I need you two to be a team. All of us are being paired with Special Forces soldiers, even myself.”

  “Assassination?” Con asked. The idea of it made the back of his neck itch.

  “Very possible. Sabotage is another danger.”

  “Have any attempts been made?”

  “Yes. Dr. Samuels and her Green Beret were nearly killed in a trap I believe was set for them. We have an enemy who is intelligent, ruthless and fearless.”

  “Can I get everything you have on this guy?” Con asked.

  “My assistant will have it ready for you in an hour or two.” Max turned to him. “Have you been assigned quarters?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m going to have you moved to the room next to Sophia’s.”

  The woman in question opened her mouth to say something unpleasant—he was sure from the way she’d screwed up her nose—which is why Con spoke first again. “Are you sure that’s necessary?” He looked down, like he was thinking hard. “Do you want to advertise to the whole base that I’m her bodyguard, or would you like to keep it below the radar?”

  Max gave him a dirty look. “Whose side are you on?”

  “Hers, sir.”

  “Fine,” Max said, with bit of an impatient edge to his voice. “I’ll check to see where you’re housed now. If it’s not too far, you can stay where you are.” Max pressed his lips together, glared at them both, then stomped off.

  Con looked at Sophia.

  She looked back at him, snorted and went back to her microscope. “Nice attempt to come to my rescue. Again. But I don’t need anyone to rescue me.”

  She needed to
talk to someone about the moron. To prevent fear and anger from getting too deep a hold on her brain.

  Despite how fast things had happened, the human mind had a way of warping events so the memory of them seemed to take a thousand times longer than the reality had.

  Hell, he was a walking testament for how three seconds of hell could totally screw up the rest of a man’s life.

  Or take it.

  Listen to him passing judgment on her mental state, when he’d done his level best to keep the shrinks out of his. Right now, he just had to convince her he was on her side. He wanted this assignment. “I know.”

  “Really?” Sarcasm turned the word into something sharp and heavy. “You just met me. How would you know that?”

  “I saw you in action last night.”

  She froze, and for a moment the expression on her face was a mixture of anger, fear and disgust. A second later, it was gone, smoothed away as if it had never been there.

  Whoa. What was that?

  Without looking at him, she said, “Babysitting me is going to be a complete bore for a soldier’s soldier like you. I’ll tell Max to find someone else.”

  Chapter Two

  Out of the corner of her eye, Sophia saw the big man tense up. A lot of people would have missed it, but she’d become a student of body language long before any child should. How else could she know if the doctors were telling her everything was all right when everything was all wrong?

  Sergeant Connor Button had already seen her in the most vulnerable moment conceivable, struggling to fight off that clumsy jerk. She didn’t want his pity or his protection. What she needed was a partner who looked past her youthful exterior and recognized her ability and determination to do the dangerous work she’d signed up for.

  So far, none of the potential partners Max had brought her had bothered.

  The sergeant shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his chest. “Guys with my skills don’t grow on trees, Doctor.”

  Here it came, another rant from a muscled-up warrior who thought shooting a rifle made him qualified to tell her what to do. She rolled her eyes and continued studying the slide on her scope. “Uh-huh.”

  He sighed like she was the dense one. “Look, my job isn’t to get in your way, it’s to make sure you have the freedom to do your job no matter where you end up.”

  Freedom? She looked away from the microscope. An interesting choice of words for a man who worked for one of the most rigidly organized groups in the world. “Explain that to me.”

  “You’re the expert,” he said. “So, if you’re deployed to an area where there’s a possible outbreak, my job is to make sure you’re free to concentrate on your work. I’ll worry about security and coordinate with any locals if you have protocols they need to follow.”

  It all sounded rational, but his body language just moments ago told her there was an underlying desperation that shouldn’t have been there. None of the other Special Forces soldiers had seemed as determined to get this assignment. “Why are you so gung-ho about working with me?”

  His lips tightened and she knew she’d hit a nerve. There was more to this than he was saying. If he didn’t come clean with her, he was out. Max would throw a fit if he had to find yet another partner for her, but she couldn’t work with someone who wouldn’t treat her like an equal.

  “Look,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “I made it back to the active duty roster by the skin of my teeth. Most guys in my shoes would be transferred to a desk job or some other role not out there.” He used his chin to indicate outside. “I’ve got something to prove.”

  “To who?”

  “Myself.”

  She studied him. That sounded like the truth.

  All well and good, but that didn’t necessarily make him the right partner for her.

  “Are you prepared to spend eighty percent of your time planning for possible missions that might never happen?” she asked him. “We might never get out there, but if we do, I need you focused on this job, not your old one.”

  His jaw clenched. “When I take on a mission, a partner or a team, I give that mission and those people everything I’ve got.”

  Sounded like macho bullshit to her, something she had no time for. She went back to her microscope, muttering, “You don’t even know what I do.”

  “Give me a chance to find out.” He took a step toward her. “I have a buddy who works with one of the other doctors in your team. He says it’s the most challenging work he’s ever done. That’s what I want. I want to push myself and expand my skills.” He spread his hands out in supplication. “I want to make a fucking difference, even if only the two of us know it.”

  Make a fucking difference.

  The same goal she set for herself every morning when she woke up. She didn’t want to be impressed, but of all the things he could have said, that was the one sentiment she’d been hoping to hear.

  Now that she had, she couldn’t quite believe it. Everything he’d said and done tumbled through her head.

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to prove to me you’re in this for the long run, you have something to contribute and you really can work with me. If you don’t, you’re gone with no bitching to Max.”

  He gave her a slow, calculated smile that shot Arctic air through the room. “Deal.”

  * * *

  Con left the captain’s office with the adrenaline of an accepted mission speeding through his system. She’d thrown down a gauntlet, one he was happy to pick up.

  Someone should have warned her not to goad a Special Forces soldier like that. He wouldn’t back down from a challenge. He couldn’t, not if he wanted to maintain his reputation as a man who got the job done. Period.

  What he needed now was information.

  “Walsh,” Con said to the private. “I need the names of the previous Special Forces soldiers Captain Perry washed out.”

  The kid didn’t have to think about his request at all. He immediately wrote down a list of four names and handed them to Con.

  He knew two of the four. Both were good men who had plenty of experience in adapting to whatever mission they were assigned. The other two he didn’t know, but he could find out more without difficulty. What the fuck could they have done to get rejected and ejected?

  Eugene was staring at him like he was one of those impossible-to-solve mind bender puzzles.

  “What?”

  “She didn’t fire you yet.” He sounded almost disappointed.

  “This is the Army. We don’t fire people, we tell you exactly how you screwed up at a volume that makes it obvious to everyone within a mile.” He didn’t want her to scurry behind his back to get rid of him. He’d have to make sure she didn’t.

  “She doesn’t do that.”

  Con’s smile came back. This kid was sharp, and Con would bet his left nut the private knew all about Sophia, what she wanted and how she operated.

  “So, what did the other guys do wrong?”

  “Everything.”

  “I’m gonna need more than that, kid.”

  Con found himself on the wrong end of a measuring glance he himself used on newbies who thought they were king shit of Turd Island, but balked at doing the dirty work when shit hit the fan.

  “They took one look around here and rated us way down on the priority list. Then they looked at Captain Perry and dismissed her because they decided she was too young to have any real responsibility or authority.”

  “That was dumb.”

  The kid shrugged and turned away to read a document on his computer.

  Con studied him. His shoulders were so tense they were up around his ears.

  Had he done the same as the other soldiers Max had auditioned?

  Con took
a moment to look around, really look. This wasn’t a typical Army medical building. Along with the lab coats hanging on the wall outside of the colonel’s office door and the faint smell of bleach that lingered in the air, there was a stillness to the place that made him feel like he was twenty feet underground.

  In a bunker.

  Protected.

  Who needed to be protected? The people inside the building, or outside the building?

  The work being done here wasn’t way down on any priority list.

  On the wall behind Eugene’s desk was a big map of the world with colored flag pins stuck in it.

  Con walked over to give it a closer look.

  There was a cluster of pins in West Africa, specifically Liberia, Sierra Leone and Guinea. Another cluster of pins decorated Northwestern Afghanistan, and still another in a couple of Middle Eastern countries. There were also a dozen or so solitary pins dotted across the map.

  “Is this a disease hot-spot map?” he asked Eugene.

  “Current outbreaks, yeah.”

  “That’s a lot of pins.” Too many, and he didn’t know much about any of them. “Is there a summary of all this? One for regular Army idiots?”

  “Right here,” Eugene said, holding out a file folder.

  Con took it, still staring at the map. “How many of these is Captain Perry working on?”

  “All of them.”

  All of them? “Shit, I have a lot of reading to do.” He knew the best place to do it, too.

  * * *

  It was an odd feeling to have such a large man sitting at the desk beside her. Usually she was alone, or Dr. Samuels occupied the other workspace. Not this behemoth in a uniform her peripheral vision couldn’t miss with blinders on.

  At least he didn’t talk to himself or make much noise.

  Though, that didn’t lessen the impact of him sitting barely five feet away. He was a distraction she didn’t need. She sighed and adjusted her position in her seat for the fiftieth time.

  He frowned at her and asked, “Am I disturbing you?”

  Funny you should bring that up. “Yes, you are. Could you read that somewhere else?”

 

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