Heart of the Hunter

by Lindsay McKenna

  “She’s smart, savvy and doesn’t take any BS from anybody— especially a man. So—” he wagged his finger at Reid, a smile breaking at the corners of his mouth “—you’ve got to practice your gender-neutral terminology big-time with this lady. Or else you’ll be in her gun sights. And I can guarantee you from personal experience with her it is not where you want to find yourself, even on a good day.”

  Reid’s anger rippled, but he didn’t allow it to show. “I don’t care for you speaking of my personal life to strangers, Ty.”

  “Don’t get tied up in knots. I wasn’t specific, Reid. Morgan Trayhern is a mind reader of sorts. He got the picture loud and clear. Once he saw your jacket and your professional education in NBC warfare, he wanted you— only you—for this assignment.” Sipping his coffee with a pleased look on his square features, Ty murmured, “Morgan usually gets his way with the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

  “Women are women.”

  Ty shook his head. “Brother, you have met your match with Casey Morrow. Now, I know you saw a slide of her in that little program Morgan put together in there, and I agree, at first glance, she looks weak… but she’s not. This gal has lived half her life in Africa. That’s no small thing to do, given that half the people over there die at a young age from snake bites, disease or malnutrition. Casey thrived in that place. She’s a backpacker, a hiker, and just for fun, she climbs El Capitan once a year to keep herself in top-notch physical condition.”

  El Capitan was the huge butte in Yosemite National Park. Reid knew what kind of skill it took to make it up that slate gray, granite slab, which rose thousands of feet vertically. Very few people could say they’d climbed El Capitan once, much less once a year. Sitting on the edge of the desk, he studied Ty, who seemed to delight in this whole fiasco. “Okay, so she can hang off sheer rock walls and not plummet to her death. So what?”

  Sipping the coffee again, Ty murmured, “She’s pretty… not that you’d be interested in that after your last tango with Janet. Hey, I know you’re still smarting over it all, but maybe Casey is just what you need—a diversion.”

  “Don’t you think Black Dawn is enough of a diversion?” Reid growled.

  Ty nodded and became serious. “You’re not kidding. They’re spreading like a disease in their own right over the world, Reid. I didn’t realize how powerful an organization they were until I started working with Casey. She more or less interfaces between the OID, the feds and us. Of course, that’s private information and not for public consumption.” Setting down his cup, he slowly stood up. “Twelve-hour flights are hell,” he muttered good-naturedly, and stretched to his full six-foot-five-inch height.

  “Having a woman involved in this is our Achilles’ heel,” Reid said in a warning voice. “Morgan Trayhern has to realize that.”

  Ty arched an eyebrow at his brother and rounded the desk. Jamming his hands into the pockets of his chinos, he stopped before him. “Don’t let Morgan hear you say that. Fifty percent of the mercenaries in his employ are women. They do as good a job as we do—if not better. He’s got the stats to prove it, too. They pay attention to a lot of little details.” Ty jabbed a finger at Reid’s shoulder. “And you know how important little details are in our line of work.”

  “So I’m a damn throwback to the Ice Age.”

  Chortling, Ty said, “Casey would call you a Neanderthal to your face, brother.”

  “She would?”

  Grinning, he nodded. “Casey doesn’t suffer fools gladly—male or female. That’s why she’s the assistant in her hot-zone department. She didn’t get that position because she was pretty lookin‘ but dumb.”

  Frowning, Reid said, “Trayhern said she could shoot straight. True?”

  “Her real name is Annie Oakley.”

  A sour grin edged Reid’s lips. “What’s she qualified in?”

  “Ask me what she isn’t qualified in. It’s a helluva shorter list.”

  Reid studied his brother in silence. Ty was a joker of sorts, but when the chips were down, he was rock solid. “Why would she be so qualified in that many weapons?”

  “Because,” Ty said lightly, “she’s been in Africa too many times. With all the warring tribes and nationalities over there, the rebellions and changes of government, she learned a long time ago how to shoot whatever was handy. Give that woman an SKS with metal-piercing bullet capability and I wouldn’t want to be her target.”

  “She ever kill anyone?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Would she?”

  Ty nodded. “I believe if she had to, she would.”

  Rising, Reid rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn it.”

  “Hey, give her a chance, will you? Casey isn’t your worst nightmare like you think. Black Dawn sure as hell is. “

  Moving slowly to the corner of the alcove, Reid studied Ty’s features. He began to realize his brother had gray smudges beneath his eyes, indicating fatigue. “So you made a special trip here to convince me to take this assignment with Dr. Morrow?”

  “Yes. I think if Morgan could find one more person of your education, experience and knowledge about NBC warfare, he’d have opted for him, but that’s not in the cards.” Ty shrugged his broad shoulders, as if to rid them of some unnamed weight he carried. “Casey fits the bill perfectly. Morgan can’t help that she’s a woman and you’re still in the middle of your own woman problems. I told him you were capable of rising above all of it and taking this mission.” Frowning, Ty studied him across the room. “This Black Dawn… it’s dangerous. I know you don’t need to be told that… but Casey has seen what they can do firsthand. It was her doc and assistant that bought the farm over there. She’s madder than a wet hen. She’s always been a red-headed spitfire, but now I think there’s a bit of revenge in her soul on account of the death of her people. She’s feeling guilty right now, judging from the call I had with her earlier. She feels that if she’d been over there instead, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  Reid snorted. “It can happen to any of us. A terrorist group like Black Dawn doesn’t let gender stand in the way of putting a bullet through someone’s head. Or worse… “

  Ty lightened a little, his gaze assessing. “Then… you’ll take the mission?”

  Releasing a breath of air, more out of frustration than anything else, Reid rasped, “Do I have a choice?”

  “No,” Ty answered with a chuckle, “you don’t. Morgan just wanted you to think you did.”

  Running his long, strong fingers through his short dark hair, Reid said, “Marines know the score. I knew mine when I walked into that room. They need cannon fodder. If we get lucky, we’ll nail Black Dawn before they nail us. Otherwise, we’ll just be two more notches on their international gun belt, is all.”

  Ty held his dark look. “Morgan cares what you think,” he said slowly. “If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have taken me out of the mission I was on and flown me straight here to talk with you about Casey. I think he saw trouble coming and he knows Black Dawn well enough to get the very best people involved at this escalating stage of things. If Black Dawn gets ahold of the Ebola virus or any other deadly germs, there’s going to be a lot of people dead in one helluva hurry. They can trot that virus around the world in forty-eight hours, hit so many major cities in that time span that this globe will shake like a dying dog. You know that and so do I. Even more, Casey knows it. She’s a warrior, Reid, just like you and me. Don’t let the fact that she happens to be in a woman’s body fool you, okay?”

  The lethal quality in Ty’s voice caught Reid off guard.

  His brother had tremendous persuasive skills, though he was the jokester and trickster in their family, while Dev was the hellion, and Shep the ultimate risk taker. Reid was the conservative, straight-arrow brother. He had to be; he was the youngest and was expected to toe the line. Finally, with an effort, he whispered, “Okay, it’s a go. Tell Trayhern I’m on the team.”

  Brightening, Ty came over and slapped him good-naturedly on the ba
ck. “You won’t regret your decision.”

  “Oh, yes, I will,” Reid retorted as he put his arms around his brother’s shoulders in a hug. It had been nearly six months since he’d last seen Ty, between undercover assignments. As they parted, Reid asked, “Where are you off to now?”

  “Hopefully, twenty-four hours of uninterrupted sleep at my apartment in New York City,” Ty teased as he opened the door. “Good luck on this mission. I told Morgan I wanted to keep tabs on you and Casey while you’re out in the field… .”

  Reid nodded. “I feel safer already.”

  Chuckling indulgently, Ty lifted his hand. “Hang around. I’ll get Morgan. He’ll probably give you some last-minute details, your airline tickets, and you’ll be off to meet Casey Morrow at the Washington National Airport.”

  As Casey sat in National Airport, ceaseless traffic ebbing and flowing by her, she felt the back of her neck prickle in warning. It was a feeling she’d experienced far too often to ignore. She lowered the book she had in hand—Emerging Plagues, written by herself. Someone was looking at her, gauging her like a quarry. But who? The thought had barely registered as she quietly closed the thick, hardback volume and looked up—up into relentless gray eyes narrowed at her like a predatory eagle.

  He stood across the thoroughfare in a dark brown leather bomber jacket, a pair of jeans, a cranberry-colored polo shirt and hiking boots. His hair was walnut brown and short—close cropped to his skull. The square jaw jutted out and reminded her of the granite hardness of El Capitan, which challenged her yearly. Judging by the way his eyes crinkled in the corners, she figured him to be in his early thirties. Although his features were filled with frank disapproval, he had a handsome face, in a rough-hewn way, one that instantly sent a shiver of awareness through Casey.

  His hands were thrust into the pockets of his jeans, and he was leaning casually against a pillar, just watching her. Kind of like a bug under an electron microscope, she thought, smarting at his bad manners. Morgan Trayhern had told her a Captain Reid Hunter from the Marine Corps would be joining her shortly before her flight to Zaire. This had to be him. He stood out like a sore thumb among the casually dressed passengers around him. His eyes were too alert; his shoulders, broad and strong, were thrown back in obvious pride, and that confidence in his face was something to behold. The good captain obviously thought a lot of himself.

  Quelling a grin that wanted to blossom on her lips, Casey relaxed beneath the marine’s scrutiny. Fine, he wanted a look. Let him take a good, long look. She wasn’t going anywhere and she certainly was not intimidated by the likes of him. Ty Hunter had warned her earlier that his younger brother was a little backward when it came to women. Might as well let the arrogant captain, who apparently thought male testosterone was the be-all and end-all, know that she didn’t think so. Casey met and held his scalpel-like stare with one of equal frankness and intensity. She saw his eyes widen momentarily, and then those thick, straight brows dip in consternation over his large gray eyes.

  Laughing to herself, she uncrossed her legs beneath the pale pink silk skirt that revealed the slenderness of her ankles and the sensible white shoes she wore. There was no doubt a power around this marine officer. It radiated around him like sunlight. If Casey had to put a name to it, she would say charisma or natural leadership ability was just oozing off the good captain. She wanted to dislike him for his sneakiness; he could have come up and pleasantly introduced himself. But no, he had to steal upon her unannounced and check her out to his satisfaction before deciding to come forward. The cad. And then Casey laughed, the sound bubbling up through her slender, long throat as she tilted her head back to release it.

  Reid scowled. Dr. Morrow’s bell-like laughter feathered across his sensitized, taut nerves like water being sprayed across a hot fire. When she tilted her head back, something old and hurting broke loose in his chest. Automatically, he rubbed his hand across his heart in reaction. What the hell was happening? This woman with her mop of red hair and sparkling green eyes that positively glowed with laughter shouldn’t be able to reach him like this.

  There was nothing to dislike about Casey Morrow, he thought sourly, as he watched her laughter die away, those intense, green eyes challenging him once more. She had moxie, he’d give her that. And he liked the shape of her face and the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and upper cheeks. Maybe it was the fullness of her lips, that soft tilt at the corners, that engaged him. For a moment, before he squashed the feeling, he felt like a hormone driven teenager being hurtled headlong into a morass of emotions and confusion. Once was enough!

  But he couldn’t help staring at her, at her soft, windblown hair. She didn’t use hair spray, that was for sure. Short, bright red with gold highlights, the strands curved around and accented her skull to a decided advantage, falling softly just below her delicate earlobes, and looking like someone had playfully ruffled it. The thin gold chain around her throat, the white silk blouse opening in a V just provocatively enough to reveal the soft swell of her breasts, engaged all his senses, whether he wanted them to or not. His brows knitted more deeply as Casey Morrow stood up, book in hand, and strolled slowly across the walkway, straight toward him. Just the way she walked roused him. She swayed like a willow being stroked by a loving breeze. The silk of the pale pink skirt fell across her hips and flowed around her long thighs and lower legs like water. Swallowing his surprise, he realized Casey was a lot taller than he’d ever imagined her to be. He was a solid six foot three inches tall, and he’d have to guess she was nearly six feet herself. And he couldn’t help but notice her obvious athletic form; nothing was wasted about her movements, but the laughter in her gaze was what really got to him. She didn’t have a smile on her luscious mouth, but he saw it in her eyes—that Irish gleam of playfulness in their sparkling green-and-gold depths. Feeling heat in-vade his neck and cheeks, he realized he was blushing. Taking his hands out of his pockets as she boldly approached him, Reid couldn’t help but grin a little.

  Casey liked his unabashed grin. He was like a little boy who was caught with the goods and had the grace to admit it. “Captain Hunter, I presume?” she asked in a husky, softened tone.

  “One and the same, Dr. Morrow.” His smile broadened despite his desire to maintain that stern exterior. He found he couldn’t help himself. What was it about this red-haired she-devil that literally grabbed him and wouldn’t let him go? She stood almost at eye level with him, and the seriousness on her face belied the laughter glinting in her green-and-gold-flecked eyes.

  “I think you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar?”

  Chuckling and properly embarrassed, Reid looked down at his newly bought hiking boots and then back up at her. The stinging heat in his cheeks, he was sure, could be seen like red lights on a Christmas tree now. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “Am I that daunting that you couldn’t approach me directly?”

  Her throaty voice was nearly his undoing. Reid had met few women who had beauty, confidence and guts in this combination.

  “I thought I could watch you without being spotted.”

  “Honesty. That’s a good sign. You’re a throwback to Neanderthal days, I see.” Her eyes narrowed on him thoughtfully. “Honest to a fault?”

  He scratched his head. Though he smarted internally over the Neanderthal label, Reid had been duly warned by Ty earlier, so he had no one to blame but himself. Foot-in-mouth disease was his forte upon occasion. “Unfortunately, yes.” His attitude about women hadn’t served him at all in his last relationship, but Reid couldn’t be something he wasn’t. He wasn’t equipped to play games. It just wasn’t in his genes.

  “Another point in your favor.” Casey looked down at her watch and then over at the check-in counter for their flight. “Sneakiness isn’t something I condone.”

  “I don’t call what I was doing sneaky.”

  A smile edged her lips. She was enjoying the good captain’s unease. He was blushing profusely, and Casey felt so
rry for him. It was obvious he was painfully aware that he’d been caught red-handed at something he thought he was quite good at. He’d never taken on an African brat, though. She’d learned a long time ago to have the proverbial eyes in the back of her head in order to stay out of the danger that abounded in the bush.

  “Oh!” she said, pouting playfully. “Then you thought you wouldn’t get caught because… ?”

  Reid straightened up to his full height. Ty had warned him about this. “I thought I could get away with it because you were a woman.”

  Laughing fully, Casey said, “You are honest, to a fault.” She held out her hand toward him. “Well, now that we’ve more or less met, you can call me Casey.”

  Reid grinned again. She was impossible to dislike, he decided, as he took her hand. He was surprised that her grip was strong, firm and slightly rough feeling. But then, he reminded himself, she climbed rocks for the hell of it in her free time.

  Casey heard the flight attendant give the call for first-class passengers. “That’s us they’re calling.”

  He nodded, not wanting to release her hand. But he forced himself to do just that as Casey gave him a fleeting, intense look once again. Now he knew how a bug under a microscope felt. Her hand had been cool and firm. His was moist and embarrassingly hot. As she turned and began to walk over to the line of people waiting to board, her airline ticket in hand, he hurried to catch up with her.

  Digging in his back pocket, he produced his ticket. If Ty had been here, he’d have been rolling on the floor with laughter. Well, his brother had warned him that Casey Morrow wasn’t to be trifled with.