by Zoe Dawson
But he took the comfort she offered as she smoothed her hands over him in the dark. He’d struggled with female relationships his whole life. After the horrible failure of his marriage, he had never let another woman get close, never this close. Abandonment was always there in his mind, lurking, and he left before they could leave him. It was his pattern. But Dana, she broke down his defenses with her understanding and her compassion. He admired her courage and her fortitude. She was like no one he’d ever met before.
Once his orders were given, he didn’t deviate unless he reassessed everything and found the decision to not be sound. He was decisive, lives depended on his leadership. Her life depended on it.
Dana was a complicated woman, and she’d shared only a brief glimpse of who she was. Outside she was strong and confident.
Inside she was lost. Like him.
Hours later, in the dark, they made their final preparations and walked through the town to the dock. They loaded up the boat, and the motor was the only sound that broke the hush of the forest.
The breeze was warm with a mixture of fertility, decay and fish on the wind. As they passed pockets of green, the cacophony of the inhabitants of the forest made sure it was never really quiet out here.
He wrestled and struggled with the concept of letting a civilian accompany him on a top secret, black ops mission. It went against his orders to get her on that plane. Miles of trekking with her, protecting her had changed their relationship ten-fold. He wasn’t the same guy who had HALO’d into the jungle.
She had changed him.
His butt could be in a sling, his very career on the line, and that was his life, his family and it terrified him to think about being out, disgraced. It made him sick, in fact.
His father had been a piss-mean, drunken good-for-nothing son of a bitch who had told him time and again he would never be anything but a good-for-nothing son of a bitch. Bowie had proved him wrong, both about his lethal name and what he could accomplish.
But he had to admit, Dana wasn’t just a civilian. Something had happened between them. When they had been locked together on that bed after her shower, his barriers had been obliterated. Her features had softened, her brown eyes glowed with more than open desire, and Ruckus didn’t know what he wanted from her, if she gave a damn, but his body inside hers was more than two people satisfying a need.
Oh, yeah, it was something. And, fuck him, but he wanted more.
He couldn’t dismiss what this meant to the cupcake, to Dana. It was closure for her and she was willing to risk her life for it. That’s what he couldn’t seem to reconcile or ignore. If he was being honest with himself, his orders suited him just fine. He wanted to keep her safe, dammit. But the way she had looked at him, the fierceness in her eyes when she’d told him she was getting her memory cards back had been as fierce as any SEAL.
The soft sound of the motor echoed off the trees that crowded the shore, a no man’s land beyond, one he’d traversed with this beautiful woman sitting quietly beside him. Voices travelled easily over the water, and he’d cautioned her about talking.
“What you did for Sienna,” he whispered, keeping his voice low. “That was admirable.”
“I didn’t do it to garner your admiration,” she said stiffly. The woman who had held him last night, comforted him was gone. The lie he’d told her now sat between them.
“It’s clear to me what’s driving you, Dana.”
“I’m so glad you get it, Bowie,” she said, her eyes snapping and sarcasm dripping from her voice.
He was undeterred. His secrets were out in the open, and she’d actually helped him. He flexed his knuckles on the hand he’d slammed against the wall, close to that man’s face he’d wanted to smash again. But the anger was that of a teenager. It was now time to take control of it, be a man and let go of the hatred he held for his father. It was the only way to move on. All this time, she’d been right. His father was controlling him and now that he realized that, he wasn’t going to let it get the best of him. Never again.
“Did your mother love you?”
She glared at him as if she wanted to smack him hard across the face. “Yes, she loved me.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because…she told me. She showed me. She was always there for me, supporting me, taking care of me, giving me advice.” Her eyes narrowed, the guilt and grief riding her hard. “After your failed marriage, you can be a good judge? Why did she leave you, Bowie?”
That hit him hard making his own guilt tighten. “We’re not talking about my failures here. We’re talking about yours.”
Her hands clenched into fists and she glared at him, angry tears filling her eyes. “You would be an expert, then.”
“Yeah. Did you love her?”
“Yes,” she snapped as if she couldn’t quite understand where he was going with this questioning. “You know I still do.”
“So, as she lay dying alone, was she really alone? Wasn’t she thinking about you and your father and that no amount of short time that she had left did she think less of you. That she would have gone into death still loving you.”
Her face contorted, and she huddled into herself, her shoulders pulled in tight. The agony on her face, the gut-wrenching pain in her eyes hollowed him out, her tears shredded him. “She loved you, Dana. That’s forever. It wouldn’t have changed and nothing you do or put yourself through will change it. So cut yourself some slack, and stop punishing yourself for not being there when she died. Sometimes promises are held in the heart even when they can’t be redeemed. You don’t have to suffer and sabotage your own happiness to atone for anything. I guarantee that it didn’t matter that you were there in person. You were there in her heart, and her love for you carried her through.”
She didn’t say a word, only stayed turned away from him, her soft crying he hoped washed away her guilt, freed her from the terrible pain, let her begin to mourn for her mom.
His throat thick, he looked away from her toward the banks thick with patches of yellow spiked cane and coffee weed, fan-fronded palmetto trees and verdant ferns. The Gap was teeming with danger, but it also held a primitive beauty. Unable to handle it, he turned back and pulled her against him, wrapped his arm around her. She turned her hot, wet face into his neck, weeping in earnest as her tears soaked into his T-shirt, and his heart constricted against her sorrow.
Her sobs subsided, and there was nothing but sniffles as they passed through a shadowy corridor of trees, the sounds of branches rustling were most likely disturbed monkeys vaulting from one bower to the next. She still held onto him, and he assuaged his guilty conscience with the hope that his words had some impact on her, just as hers had an impact on him.
They made Yaviza as dawn was breaking across the jungle, the sky orange, then a smoky white that lightened to a lush purple stain across the horizon, that gave way to a bold, brilliant azure. She moved out of his embrace, her red-rimmed eyes the only sign that she’d gone through a deep-emotional breakdown.
He spied the dock and activity as citizens of Yaviza prepared for the day on the water. Rivers here were the highways of this region. He guided the boat over to the dock, settled between two boats and tied off the pirogue. He went to help Dana up to the dock, but she was already moving. Transportation on his mind, he maneuvered to the dock and followed her. The town was bustling for so early in the morning, but she seemed to know where she was going. They would bus out, get to Panama City, then to the airport where they…he could rent a car to drive to the resort. She would be in the air, winging it back to San Diego. He was just hours away from saying goodbye to her.
Sympathy rushed through him for her and he shoved it back. He wasn’t going to endanger her no matter how much he understood why.
Her stiff back told him that she was renewing her anger all over again, and he couldn’t blame her. He had lied to her as part of his mission, he’d had to say he would go along with her to get her to comply with his wishes and keep the argu
ments down to a minimum. That cupcake could argue the paint off the walls when she put her mind to it.
A formidable mind and a delectable body all wrapped up in enough attitude to fuel a metropolis.
Damn, why did he have to like her so much?
Trusting her, though. He wasn’t so sure about that.
Outside of the SEALs, he’d had a lifetime of it shoved back in his face.
They went up an incline into the main part of the city. Dana leading the way. This would be the test to see if he could pass as Liam Nelson. They were similar, both of them with dark hair, and Ruckus was hoping the growth of beard would hide any dissimilar features.
But he suspected getting into Yaviza was much more difficult than getting into Panama City. They would just want to make sure people who were in the country had the correct traveling papers.
They entered an area where the buildings were small and without stilts, the muddy river down the hill.
“There is only one bus from Panama and should be here around noon, maybe sooner if the stops at the patrols along the way went smooth,” she said. “We have time for a meal and some rest before it gets here. We can get tickets at the bus depot at the edge of town.”
They stopped at the first cantina they came to, ordered a breakfast, then to a light blue building that was a nice hotel. In their room, they dropped their packs and reclined on the bed. Dana turned her back to him, his attempt to try to help her must have backfired. She might have hung onto him in the small boat, but that was probably any port in a storm thing.
Once again, he thought about the next step in this mission gone crazy. His simple tag and bag had turned into an odyssey, but he was determined to complete this assignment come hell, high water, or a cupcake.
After a couple hours of sleep and a quick combat wash, they were back out on the streets. At the bus depot, they bought their tickets. When a Senafront soldier asked for their papers, he presented Nelson’s passport which the distracted guard stamped and told them they were free to go.
They boarded the minivan that held about twenty-one people and made the short trip to Metiti, then transferred to an old school bus, the line called, Diablo Rojos, Red Devil. After bumping over the road for hours on end with broken down shocks and squealing brakes, Ruckus was relieved to finally see Panama City in the distance. Gravel road gave way to a bumpy road, then smoothed out, the bus caught eventually in the stop and go traffic in Panama City. It was hard to believe that just hours away, the Gap existed in this bustling city, in a country that embraced technology and notorious for connecting oceans, cultures and world commerce.
This bus would drop them directly to Albrook International Airport, a gleaming modern terminal. There his guys would have already worked it out to rent a vehicle. They’d be on their way as soon as he got Dana on her flight.
As soon as they disembarked, he latched onto her pack to keep her close to him. Wicked had said the terminal was clear, but Ruckus knew that things on an op could change on a dime. Her mouth tightened, and she shot him a nasty look.
Too bad, cupcake. They were doing this his way.
Right now, he needed to talk to his guys before he moved on.
He dragged her with him to a remote place in the airport. He inserted his earpiece and walked a few feet away from her.
“Ruckus to Rogue One, over.”
“Copy, LT. We’re here.” He kept his eyes on Dana.
“Is the vehicle secure?”
“Yes, sir. Taken care of and the cupcake flight is in thirty minutes.”
“Negate that,” he said. He’d warred with his conscience and his duty. To himself, his country, and mostly, his team. They had a stake in this op and if he was going to make this decision, they had to be one hundred percent on board because they believed in him, that his judgment was right and he’d make the best decision he could.
Back when he’d lied to her, his emotions weren’t in the game. Dana Sorenson was nothing but a road bump to his HVT. Not a living, breathing woman who’d just supported him through some of the worse jungle he’d ever been in. She’d earned her chance at Salazar.
“Is everyone connected?” he asked.
“We’re all here, LT. What’s up?”
“Don’t talk, just listen.” Then he told them, all of it. Well, except the sex and all that kissing. Those things he left out. That was none of their goddamned business. But he knew they were hot-blooded American males and they could easily guess.
“If you think she should go, Boss,” Kid said, “I’m in.”
“Cowboy?” Ruckus said, “be the judge, because I can’t right now.” He rubbed his forehead, agonizing over how to handle this. She was going to hate him if he put her on that plane. That was a given, but more importantly, she was going to be denied her closure and her due. That was even more damaging to his sense of justice.
“It’s dangerous for her, sir,” Cowboy said. “She’s willing to risk her life for these memory cards?”
“She is determined.”
There was a strained silence, then a deep voice, Cowboy’s said, “I think your decision is sound. She earned her spot. She had your back. I’m on board, too.”
“Blue, Wicked, Hollywood, Scarecrow and Tank all voiced their agreement.
“Scarecrow, patch me through to the major.” It only took him ten minutes to lay out his reasons for taking Dana, foremost is that she would ease him into the resort, lessen suspicion and she had a right to go after her memory cards. When he got the okay to proceed, he said, “Meet me at the vehicles, then. We’re going in.”
11
The terminal was thick with people either walking fast, milling around, or running full out for their flights. She maneuvered around people, the scents of food that made her mouth water and her stomach grumble, sheer bodies, and stairs as Bowie led her no doubt to her flight. She kept her head down, her anger growing with each step. The whole trip had been so mentally and physically exhausting, everything was catching up to her. In the distance, beyond the glass, the urban sprawl at the jungles edge, creating a haze in the air seemed almost surreal after the hard, harrowing trek. Her mind was on Bowie. He’d had such a hard childhood, and she could understand how everything he did had been dictated by the way he’d been betrayed by his parents.
But what he’d said to her was still reverberating deep inside. The guilt ebbing and flowing perhaps to the beginning of forgiveness. The dark thought that she may have stayed away on purpose, unable to bear the thought of her mother’s passing tortured her. Had she missed seeing her one last time because she couldn’t handle it?
And had she pushed away her grief and invited in the guilt to make her suffering all that more poignant because she thought she deserved it? Had her mother and father’s selfless life made it easy to transition into the one she led now? Barren and alone, even when she was in a relationship.
Like everything she’d done after her mom’s death, the travel, the less than perfect relationship, the inability to commit, the devastating stories. So guilty, so isolated in her grief. Had she punished herself by denying her own happiness?
It haunted her those words of his because she was beginning to think he was right.
When they stopped, she looked up, but instead of the security checkpoint, it was the doors leading outside to the rental cars.
She shot him a startled look but he was searching. She followed the direction of his stare. How could he have missed all that beefcake? Seven men standing around a black Hummer and a small sedan, Tank’s dog, Echo hanging out the window, his tongue lolling. And, my God out of their uniforms, without their war paint, helmets and all that freaking gear they carried, she realized that this was one gorgeous team. They hadn’t gone unnoticed, women were gawking, one woman walked into a pole, shook herself and then moved on.
Ruckus, oblivious, moved through the glass doors and headed toward them. Hope started to build in her, hope that Bowie had changed his mind.
They came to attention, the
same kind of lethal focus she had seen in her SEAL many times. All she could think was “locked and loaded.”
Two of the men she didn’t recognize because they had been “covering their backs,” keeping their escape route open. The taller one looked menacing with his dark winged brows, but the crinkles beside his deep brown eyes made her think that he laughed often. The other one, Lord have mercy, was handsome as a movie star. “Wicked and Hollywood,” Ruckus said as he introduced the two of them. They nodded to her, and she completely got their call names.
Wicked looked like a devil and all Hollywood needed was adoring fans.
The others greeted her with a warm, new kind of respect and there was only one way they would have known that she deserved it.
Bowie.
She turned to him, and he growled, “This is the way it’s going down. The team is going to gear back up and head into the jungle outside of Santa Clara. You and I are going in as a couple to scope out the resort and find Salazar. Once we find him, we’re going to call in the team and tag and bag him. Then we’re going to get a chopper out of the airport. It’s already been chartered.”
She went to open her mouth.
But he cut her off. “You will do everything I say, when I say it. No arguments.”
Kid smirked. “You can talk now. That’s his I’m-ready-for-your-affirmative face.”
The other guys chuckled, but she just stared at him, working to keep her emotions in check. She wanted to kiss him in the worse way, wrap her arms around him and just hold him. Instead, she nodded and said, “Copy that, sir.”
That got more male chuckles and plenty of jealous looks from the passing women. She suddenly couldn’t stop the tears as she turned away, opened the passenger side to the sedan and slipped inside, surreptitiously wiping at her eyes. She felt like she was part of this team and now, instead of going for something purely for herself, she was going to assist them in taking one of the most notorious wanted Americans in the world out of the international equation.
