The Reunion Mission: The Reunion MissionTall Dark Defender

by Beth Cornelison

  Nicole’s voice became a muted drone as he dressed and put on his shoes. By the time he gathered his hat and cell phone from the nightstand, a sour disgust, with himself and with Nicole’s betrayal, had risen like bile in his throat.

  The shower was the only sound from the bathroom when he gave the room one last glance for anything he’d missed. The rumpled bed served a vivid reminder of what had transpired the night before. He might have been making love to Nicole, but he’d gotten screwed.

  * * *

  Nicole sat on the floor of the shower, silent tears tracking down her cheeks. She had to pull herself together, couldn’t let Daniel see how deeply her father’s attitude hurt her. Somewhere during the night, making love to Daniel, she’d realized the only way to get her life back under control was to make a clean break from her father. She couldn’t be the daughter he wanted her to be, and trying was suffocating her.

  Losing her father, so soon after losing her mom, made it all the harder to break free. But if she needed any reminder how differently they viewed the world, it had been obvious when her father had referred to Daniel in such derogatory terms. She’d thrown the words back in his face, hoping her father would hear how elitist he sounded, but Alan White couldn’t see what she saw him becoming. And it broke her heart.

  Shutting of the water, Nicole dragged herself from the shower and dried off, deciding how much to tell Daniel about the argument he had to have overheard. The truth, of course, but how much of the truth? She was still grappling with the truth herself.

  Finally, pulling on the plush robe the hotel provided, she headed back out to the room to face her future. And found no one there.

  Chapter 4

  Present day—New Orleans

  Daniel woke slowly, keeping still, using all of his senses to test his surroundings for possible threats before opening his eyes. He’d been trained to assess every new situation carefully, especially if he was at a strategic disadvantage. Which he was, based on the throbbing ache in his knee and no memory past struggling to the chopper amid gunfire.

  The beep of electronics and the murmur of distant voices, too muted for him to distinguish what language they were speaking, met his ears. He lay flat on a soft surface and had covers over him. A bed. His knee hurt like the devil, and he had tubes and needles poking him. His head felt a little muzzy, likely from some kind of painkiller, but he began to build a picture. He could smell antiseptic and...roasted chicken? His stomach growled.

  So he was in a hospital room. But where?

  And someone held his hand. That fact made his pulse trip. Who—?

  He cracked his eyes open, peeking out through his eyelashes, careful not to alert his company to his waking...just in case.

  Nicole sat in a wheelchair beside his bed, her head lolling to the side, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted. Asleep. She wore a blue hospital gown and an IV bag, hanging from a pole attached to her wheelchair, was hooked up to her right hand. As when he’d found her asleep at the prison camp, he was struck by how beautiful she looked, despite the circumstances. And how vulnerable.

  On the heels of that thought, he flashed to the jungle. To Nicole pushing herself to keep up despite her obvious exhaustion. To her feisty determination not to leave him behind when he was shot. To her stubborn protectiveness over the little girl.

  No. Nicole White might look vulnerable, but a tenacious streak ran through her.

  He angled his gaze to their joined hands, determined not to read anything into her presence in his room. Hands he remembered as delicately feminine and soft were now chapped and showed the wear of harsh living conditions. Her once well-manicured fingernails were short and ragged, her skin marred by cuts and bruises. The physical reminders of her ordeal caused a twisting sensation deep in his chest.

  Oh, my God! Daniel... He’d blacked out shortly after her eyes had widened in recognition. Finally.

  Disappointment pinched him.

  But...the jungle had been dark, their situation had been perilous, and their last meeting had been over five years ago. His appearance had changed some over the years.

  Still...it stung that she’d not known him immediately. Especially after the intimacies they’d shared their one night together. Daniel sighed. One night five years ago and one night ten years ago. Maybe he was asking too much to think she’d remember him. And even if she did recall everything that had happened that night in New Orleans, where did that leave them?

  He had to remember who her father was, the reason they’d only had the one night, the way she’d used him….

  A spike of bitter resentment seeped through the golden memories and gnawed in his gut. Nothing was settled between them. Clenching his back teeth, Daniel eased his hand out from under hers, careful not to wake her, then shifted in the bed to give her his back.

  He sank into his pillow, prepared to nurse his black mood when a soft knock sounded at his door. A sweet and familiar face peeked around the corner.

  “Daniel, you awake? Can we come in?” His spirits lifted as his partner’s very pregnant wife waddled into the room, Alec behind her, and gave him a bright smile.

  Daniel nodded, then hitched his head toward Nicole and signaled for his visitors to be quiet. As Erin Kincaid bent to hug him, he whispered, “Hey, gorgeous. Thanks for loaning me Alec. I brought him back in one piece, like I promised.”

  She squeezed him and gave his injured leg a side glance. “You promised you’d all come back unharmed.”

  He grunted. “Oops.”

  She sent him a withering frown and stepped away to allow her husband to greet him. Alec and Daniel clasped hands briefly, tightly. Words weren’t needed. Alec was like a brother to Daniel. A brother who’d been through hell and back with him on many occasions. A brother with whom he’d trust his life.

  “How’s the knee?” Alec asked in a low voice.

  “You tell me. I’m a little foggy on what happened after we got airborne. Sit-rep?”

  “Pretty simple. We got the hell out of the jungle. Oh, and the snipers? Not from the camp. They were kids.”

  Daniel frowned. “What?”

  Alec nodded. “No lie. Kids, about ten to twelve years old, posted in the trees to guard someone’s cash crop. I saw the coca plants once we were in the air.”

  “Kids. Jeez.” Daniel shook his head. “Okay, go on.”

  “Then we swapped the chopper for the Cessna you’d arranged in Bogotá and flew straight back to the States.” Alec, who’d clearly had time to shower, shave and change into street clothes, moved a chair near the bed for his wife. “We were wheels down in New Orleans by early afternoon, some ten hours after extracting the target. Objective complete. Mission accomplished.”

  His partner crossed his arms over his chest and sent Daniel a satisfied grin.

  Erin tipped her head to give her husband a worried frown. “Your last mission. You promised.”

  He sat on the arm of the chair and kissed Erin’s hair. “Yes. I promise.”

  Daniel watched his partner and his wife with regret. As much as he liked Erin, as happy as he was for Alec, he couldn’t help wondering about the future. He’d been Alec’s partner on the top secret black ops team most of his career. What was he going to do now that Alec was retiring from active duty?

  Daniel touched his thigh, just above his throbbing knee. Would he have a black ops job to go back to, or would his injury sideline him, too?

  “I was looking for something more specific. I assume you’ve talked to the doctors here.” He gave Nicole a meaningful glance. “Is she okay? What happened with the kid? Did Nicole tell you anything about her captivity on the flight home?”

  Alec arched a dark eyebrow, and the glint in his blue eyes told Daniel he hadn’t missed the question Daniel left out. “Nicole’s fine. A few dings and some dehydration, but nothing a night in the hospital won’t remedy.” He folded his arms over his chest before he continued. “Tia is in a room on the pediatric floor getting IV fluids and a psych evaluation. At the
moment, the hospital staff and government authorities here believe she is your daughter.”

  Daniel snapped his gaze up to Alec’s. “My daughter? Wh—”

  “Think about it, Lafitte. Nicole is blond and blue eyed, well-known in the States. No one would believe the girl was hers. And with your tan complexion and dark hair and eyes, you look more Hispanic than Jake or I do.”

  Daniel dragged a hand over his mouth. “What am I supposed to do with her?”

  Alec held up his hands. “Easy. Nicole is working on cutting through the red tape involved in having Tia here without a visa, without knowledge of who her parents are, without consent of the Colombian government….”

  Daniel shut his eyes and blew out a frustrated sigh. “I couldn’t leave her. Nicole refused to go without the girl, and we didn’t have time to argue.”

  “And when she looked at you with those big sad eyes, your heart melted. Right?” Alec smirked.

  Daniel scowled. “Well, yeah. I’d have to be made of stone not to be sympathetic to a scared little girl. Especially in that hellhole. It was no place to leave a kid.”

  Alec’s grin spread. “I was talking about Nicole’s sad eyes, but it’s good to know you have a soft spot for children, too.”

  Daniel cut a quick glace at Nicole, who was still asleep, then glowered at Alec. “Wiseass.”

  Erin and Alec exchanged a knowing grin, then fell silent.

  Daniel lowered his gaze to the lumpy silhouette of his injured leg under the thin blanket. Questions he hated to ask, dreading the answers, hung with a palpable tension in the quiet room.

  “They operated on your knee, patched it up as best they could. You have several pins and screws holding you together at the moment.” Alec’s voice held a note of apology, commiseration. “The bullet went all the way through, which is good. If it had bounced around in your leg, it could have torn up more arteries, and you’d have bled out. Nicole, being a nurse, got busy once we were out of the jungle and stabilized your leg. She stopped the bleeding, kept tabs on your vitals and found stuff in the trauma kit to keep you knocked out for the ride home.”

  His gaze drifted to Nicole, almost of its own volition, and his chest tightened when he pictured her laboring over him to save his life. He swallowed hard, despite the cottony feeling in his mouth, and shifted his gaze to Alec. “But...”

  To his credit, Alec didn’t pretend not to know what Daniel was asking. His partner’s brow furrowed in sympathy. “But the surgical repairs aren’t a permanent fix. You’ll be able to walk with a cane and some therapy, but you’re gonna hurt like hell for a while. They recommend a joint replacement in the near future.” He hesitated and pinned Daniel with a penetrating gaze. “Your days in the field are over. I’m sorry.”

  Daniel’s gut wrenched, and he battled down the swell of panic with stubborn denial. “Maybe not. Maybe with physical therapy—”

  “The team’s already issued your deactivation order. I talked to the chief earlier, tried to get him to hold off until after your surgery, but...he was adamant. He can’t take a chance in the field with an agent who’s suffered a knee injury like yours.”

  Daniel gritted his teeth, and his hands fisted in the blanket. “He can’t take me off the team without even talking to me! How—”

  Nicole inhaled a sharp breath and jerked awake, a wild gaze darting nervously around her surroundings. Daniel kicked himself mentally, knowing his angry volume had woken her.

  After a few shallow, panted breaths, she seemed to realize she was safe and melted wearily back into the wheelchair. Then noticing the attention she’d drawn, she scooted upright from her slumped position and, rubbing her neck with her hand, sent Daniel, then Alec, curious looks. “I fell asleep.”

  “Apparently.” Daniel gave her a measured scrutiny. He was all too familiar with the time it took to decompress after a trauma, after being held captive and fearing daily for your life. Nicole had a tough road ahead.

  Erin introduced herself, and the women exchanged polite greetings before Nicole’s eyes locked on Daniel’s, all traces of her earlier distress and confusion gone. “How do you feel?”

  “Well, let’s see...I’ve got a blown-out knee, a screaming headache and I just learned my injured leg means I no longer have a job.” He gave her a churlish smile. “I’m peachy.”

  Nicole sat back, her expression wounded.

  “Daniel...” Erin scolded quietly.

  Guilt kicked him, and he tore his gaze from hers to glare at his feet.

  “Come on, Lafitte,” Alec said. “I know you’re ticked about being taken off the team, but don’t take it out on her.”

  “What, are you my mother now?” he growled.

  Alec scoffed. “Fine. Clearly you need time alone to process all this.” He stood and held his hand out to help Erin to her feet. “When you’re ready to talk, you know how to reach me.”

  Daniel angled a look to his partner and Erin, his guilt and despondency grinding harder into his conscience. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “She’s the one you owe an apology to.” Alec aimed a thumb toward Nicole, then headed out the door with Erin. “We’re heading back to Colorado tomorrow, but we’ll stop in and say goodbye in the morning before we head out. Oh, yeah, Jake said to tell you he’d stop by later.”

  Daniel nodded an acknowledgment to Alec, then shifted a contrite glance to Nicole.

  She grabbed the wheels of her chair and turned toward the door. “I should go, too. I didn’t mean to be gone so long, and I don’t want Tia to wake up alone.”

  Nicole rolled the wheelchair around the end of his bed, and Daniel saw his opportunity to set the record straight with her slipping away. “Nicole, wait.”

  She stopped but didn’t look at him.

  He clenched his teeth, mad at himself for taking out his frustrations on her and uncertain where to begin the conversation they needed to have. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. This—” he waved a hand at his knee “—isn’t your fault.”

  When she raised her gaze, her eyes were bright with tears. The pain in her expression sucker punched his gut.

  “I came down here,” she started slowly, softly, “to thank you. For rescuing me. For bringing Tia with us.” She shook her head and swiped moisture from her cheek. “I don’t think I said it before, but I can never thank you enough for—”

  “Forget it.” He shrugged. “I just did my job.”

  “No. What you did went above and beyond—”

  “Have you seen your father?” he interrupted, uncomfortable with her gratitude.

  Her mouth tightened, and a chill filled her eyes. “Not yet. He was in Washington when I called him. He’s on his way here now.”

  “What will you tell him?”

  She drew her eyebrows together. “The truth. I have nothing to hide from him.” She cocked her head, her expression steely. “Do you?”

  He jerked another negligent shrug. “I’d be more worried about what he might hide from you. You deserve honesty.”

  “Oh? Have you been honest with me?”

  “Always.”

  “Then answer this—why did you leave?”

  He frowned and squeezed the sheets in his fist. “What?”

  She rolled the wheelchair closer, her eyes shining with blue fire. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. On the helicopter, you were eager for me to remember that night. And, yes, I remember it. Vividly. And the morning after.”

  His gut pitched. What had he said while delirious with pain?

  He clenched his teeth. “Then you shouldn’t have to ask why I left.”

  Nicole’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Excuse me? We barely said good morning. I went to take a shower, and by the time I got out of the bathroom, you’d run away like a roach when the lights turned on!”

  Daniel scoffed. “A roach? Really?”

  “Sure. It fits. I came out of the bathroom to find nothing but our condom wrappers scattered everywhere like trash after a Mardi Gras parade.” Sh
e jabbed a finger toward him, and color rose in her cheeks. “You got your wham-bam and left without even a ‘thank you, ma’am.’ At least hookers get paid!”

  Acid roiled in his gut. “Is that what you told your father? ’Cause that would explain a lot.”

  She blinked and sat back in the wheelchair, clearly startled. “My father? What does he have to do—?” She cut herself off abruptly and held up a hand. She inhaled a deep breath and shook her head. “Forget it. This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Why rehash it at all? It’s ancient history.”

  She shot him a skeptical frown. “You don’t believe that, or you wouldn’t have needed me to remember you.”

  Daniel scowled and shifted his gaze from her, hoping she couldn’t tell how close to the truth she’d come.

  “That’s what you said, you know. ‘I need to know you remember.’ You were agonizing over it.”

  He shook his head, avoiding her eyes. “I had a shattered knee. It was the pain talking.”

  She sighed, a resigned, heartbreaking sound in the dim hospital room. “It might have been pain talking, but not pain from your knee.”

  He jerked his gaze to her, ready with denials, but she turned and wheeled her chair toward the door. “I have to go. Tia needs me.”

  The door swished closed behind her, leaving Daniel in the dark and silent room alone. He closed his eyes and let the raw ache of memories and regrets roll over him.

  * * *

  When she reached Tia’s room on the pediatric floor, Nicole was still shaking all the way to her marrow. She paused outside Tia’s door to gather her composure, not wanting any of her own upheaval to upset the girl. When she’d woken from her inadvertent nap in Daniel’s room, she’d experienced a few terrifying moments of disorientation. Even now she felt as if a delicate thread wound through her, pulled so taut it cut into her soul. A thread that vibrated like a plucked wire, humming with images, sensations and sounds from her months in captivity. Even though she’d showered three times in the hospital, the rank smell of the prison camp lingered in her nose, and for an instant upon wakening, she’d thought she was back in Colombia.