by KaLyn Cooper
“We’re handling the situation,” he assured her.
She dropped her head on his shoulder.
A faint voice announced, “Operations to all assets, report to base.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He removed his arm and she noticed Griffin was already standing. “I have to go.”
Gwen stood, too.
He stared at her for several seconds. “I’ll call you later. Maybe we can get in a late supper?”
“We’ll see. I’m thinking you’ll be busy.” Then she added, “If you’re available tomorrow afternoon, how about a bike ride at White Rock Lake Park?”
His smile filled every corner of doubt. “Let me see if I can make that happen.”
*
Jonathan sat down at the small conference table with Quin, Griffin and Stan, one of the other two assistant managers of the Dallas Center.
Alex came onto the flat screen, life size. “Jonathan, the information you provided dovetails with what Homeland Security has. Good work.”
He should have felt proud. He was anything but. He’d used Gwen.
“They’ve identified several possible targets and have employed Guardian to spearhead stopping them,” Alex announced. “Griffin, you are in charge of training the men we discussed. I want them on the range practicing the way Katlin showed you.”
Jonathan mentally hi-fived the managing partner. Their other corporate owner, Katlin Callahan, was the Ladies of Black Swan team leader who had taught the men at Miami Guardian Center several shooting games that honed not only their gun skills, but decision making. This was going to be fun.
Alex continued, “Get them into the gym with hand-to-hand and knife skills.”
“Yes, sir,” Griffin replied.
“I’ve discussed Miss Shaw at length with the commanding general at SOCOM and he agrees that she might become a target of retribution. I want Guardian to become her shadow. Jonathan, since you seem to have established a relationship with her, you are point on that part of this mission.”
Jonathan’s heart dropped with a sickening thud into his stomach. Gwen could be in danger. “Sir, do they have credible threats against Gwen?”
“No,” Alex reassured, then dropped the other foot. “Not yet. But if the Dallas cell discovers she assisted in the thwarting of their plans, she’ll be at the top of their list.”
“So, just clarifying here,” Jonathan needed to calm the hell down. His heart was racing and not in a good way. Sliding into operational mode, he expounded, “We can expect a greater threat to Gwen’s life after we’ve accomplished our mission of stopping these assholes. Until then, she’s not even on their radar.”
“Exactly,” Alex agreed. “But that could change in an instant. You need to be prepared to protect her. She seems to be a very intelligent woman and may already realize the danger, or at least potential. Tell her Guardian will provide personal protection for her until we’re sure she’s no longer in jeopardy.”
“Yes, sir.” Jonathan had his work cut out for him.
“I don’t know the quality of Miss Shaw’s language skills, but SOCOM put translators on this operation.” Alex stated. “Quin, Griffin, we have permission to tap their homes. Phone taps are already underway.”
Alex shifted in his high-back leather chair. “I can’t afford to expend anymore resources in Dallas. Initial indications are that this may be a multicity attack.”
Griffin sat upright. “I’ll leave for Miami immediately.”
“No,” Alex countered. “I need you to complete the training in Dallas. Your men are honed and Nate is handling things very well. Dallas is a new office with too many leftover employees from the former owners who aren’t our men.”
Everyone understood what Alex meant. There were civilians with no prior special operations skills which would be required for this mission.
“Thank you, gentlemen. I’m sure we’ll talk again soon.”
“Thank you, Alex,” Quin said and clicked off the screen, ending the video conference. He looked at Griffin, then glanced at Jonathan. “Someday I’m going to meet Katlin Callahan.” There was determination in his voice. “In the meantime, what’s so special about her range training?”
“It’s not like anything you’ve ever done before,” Griffin warned.
“It’s really kind of fun,” Jonathan added.
“We need to rent several hours of range time, after hours preferably, no recordings,” Griffin instructed, “since this office doesn’t have one yet. Same for a gym.”
Quin looked around. “I can’t wait to move into our new building, but the contractor says it’ll be at least another month. Looks like we’re night owls for the foreseeable future.”
Griffin turned to Jonathan as they were leaving. “You’re already trained. Go handle Gwen.” Light dawned in his former manager’s eyes. Turning quickly to Quin, he apologized. “Sorry, man, I forgot he’s not mine anymore.”
Quin smiled. “No problem, this time. I would have given the same orders.”
“Color me gone.” Jonathan waved and left the room before a pissing contest started.
When he arrived at Up In Smoke, the place was hopping with supper guests. Gwen was waiting tables and gave him a questioning look over her shoulder. He parked his butt at the counter where he could see almost the entire restaurant between the convex mirror in the corner and his peripheral vision.
After she posted a meal ticket, she spun around and gave him a once-over. “Can this be quick?”
Yeah, he could do her fast and hard anytime she wanted, but he had to tell her his news, now. He nodded.
She tilted her head toward the kitchen and headed into the back.
In the office he pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but the picnic and the park are out of the question.”
“You have to work?”
“No.” Here came the hard part. He took a deep breath and stared into her soft brown eyes. “You might be a target for the terrorist cell. Maybe not now, maybe not even later. But you are an asset SOCOM wants protected.”
Her perfectly arched eyebrows flew up. “SOCOM is in on this? Aren’t they primarily military?”
“Yes, but Guardian is a SOCOM contractor and it’s easier for Homeland to use us rather than inform all their entities of the potential threat, at least until we can get them definitive proof.”
She shrugged. “Makes sense. I figured I might be a target at some point.” She threw her arms around him and smiled. “So do I get twenty-four-seven protection?”
“Yes, you do.” He smiled back and pecked her lips. “And I’m in charge of seeing to your safety.” His smile broadened. “I put myself on the night shift.”
“Gwen,” Luis called from the kitchen, “order up.”
She pressed a brief kiss to his lips. “We’re slammed and I have a waitress out. I’ve got to get back to work. What do you want for supper?”
“I’ll be happy to eat you.” The picture of her spread wide, and naked, for him upstairs on her bed was all it took for him to grow hard.
“Later,” she promised. “Now what nourishing food can I bring you?”
“Take my order at the counter in a few minutes.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You need to get back to work.” He took her by the shoulders and set her back a foot. Then stepped back to separate them even more. “See what you do to me?”
She glanced at his crotch then giggled like a teenager. Sweetness coated his heart.
“Fine. I’ll serve you in a few minutes.” She closed the distance between them and rubbed her hand up and down his cock. “I’ll service this later tonight.”
He couldn’t wait.
Chapter 12
Jonathan loved the way Gwen curled into him after sex. She got this tender, satiated smile on her pretty lips that remained red from his kisses for hours. She always fell asleep within minutes, sometimes moving from the depths of her orgasm straight into a good night’s sleep.
Tonight, their third in a row together, he’d licked her wet folds and sucked on her clit until she came twice. He’d finally allowed himself to slide into her hot sheath and take his own pleasure. They’d started earlier than usual, right after the supper crowd had thinned.
Gwen lay beside him, circling his flat nipple with her index finger. “Why do you leave my bed every night as soon as I fall asleep? You can protect me from five inches away. Besides, it would take a safecracker to get through the new security system Guardian installed.”
“I’m just not comfortable sleeping all night with a woman.” He’d admitted it, finally.
She stiffened and rolled away from him. “Then get the hell out of my bed.”
He didn’t want to go. Ever, if he acknowledged the truth to himself. “What’s wrong?”
She rolled back over and faced him, sitting up. “What’s wrong? I guess I need to know where I stand, or more accurately, lay. We’ve spent practically every moment together for the last four days. Is this going anywhere other than to bed? Am I nothing more to you than this week’s fuck buddy, because that’s the way I feel.”
He sat up to face her and reached for her.
She slapped his hands away. “You’re not going to distract me with round three. Answer the question.”
Fuck. This woman had been filling his heart since he’d kissed her on the rooftop. Maybe since she snatched the gun from Bitsy’s hand. He didn’t want to let go of what they had, what had been growing between them.
But he was afraid to spend the night in her bed. What if he hurt her like he had…
He wanted more from Gwen, so he had to tell her. He sighed deeply. “Back in Miami, I had…a long-term relationship.” Fuck this was hard. “You know I was in the Marines.”
She nodded, but said nothing.
“I was involved in some real ugly shit over there and…sometimes.” How could he explain without sounding like an abusive bastard? He didn’t even know what he’d done, until he saw the bruises. “In my sleep, I must have had a flashback.” He swallowed hard. “The next morning she…she looked like she’d been mugged. She had bruises…” he choked on the memory and fought self-disgust.
“She told me she’d tried to wake me up when I started yelling in my sleep.” He stared past Gwen into the darkness of her bedroom and fought the heat behind his eyes. “I had attacked her.” He looked at Gwen’s tear-filled eyes. “I didn’t remember any of it. Not a thing. Not the nightmare I obviously had, and certainly not hurting her.”
Gwen’s shoulders slumped as a tear fell.
“I could never let that happen to you.” He cupped her face and swiped away the tears with his thumbs. “You mean too much to me.”
She threw herself into his arms and let the tears flow. “It wasn’t your fault.” She repeated the phrase until she got ahold of her emotions. Sitting back, she dragged in a breath. “PTSD is a bitch and comes in so many forms, often in night terrors. They should teach spouses and girlfriends how to awaken war veterans, especially you SpecOps guys. You’re the jumpiest bunch of men I’ve ever met, lethal even in your sleep.”
She managed a smile. “If hurting me is what you’re worried about, you’ve forgotten I’m a trained Army nurse. I’ve seen men like you in their worst pain who wake up fighting.” She leaned in and held him. Her warm naked body against his was soothing, comforting this time, not arousing. “Sleep with me. It’ll be okay.” She laid her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back onto the bed.
Jonathan had the best sleep in years.
Feeling refreshed the next morning, razor in hand, he looked at the man in the mirror. He liked what he saw. It was as though a weight had been lifted. He’d been freed from bonds that leashed him to his past.
Gwen had done this for him. She was amazing. And his. As he scraped the reddish stubble from his jaw, he glanced at door, her sleeping body on the other side, wondering if they had time for a proper morning wakeup. He glanced down at the tented towel around his waist and decided she could be late.
They had fallen into a routine. Men from Guardian would take turns eating at Up In Smoke throughout the day, no hardship, given the terrible cook at the center. Jonathan helped Griffin and Quin with the training, sat in on update calls from Alex, and protected Gwen every night while in her bed.
The teenage boys hadn’t shown at the diner, but given the conversations their parents were having—information surprisingly shared by Homeland Security—it was no wonder. The adults surrounding them were deeply embedded in the Dallas terrorist cell. Although Friday had been confirmed as the intended date, there had been multiple choices as to the location. Dallas was a hopping city that liked to party on the weekend, especially in the promised good weather.
It wasn’t a surprise to anyone at Guardian when Alex showed up very late Wednesday night. What did surprise Jonathan was that he immediately wanted to meet Gwen. She was in charge of closing that night and agreed to the meeting as long as he came to her.
Jonathan glanced up at the big diner clock at eleven-fifty as Alex strode in, Quin and Griffin right behind him.
“Alex, nice to see you,” Jonathan shook his hand. “Has the threat level against Gwen increased?”
“No,” Alex smiled as Gwen approached. “I just wanted to meet the woman who discovered what might be the second most lethal terrorist plot against the United States. We weren’t able to stop 9/11 but thanks to five teenage boys gossiping in this diner, and the brilliance of one former Army lieutenant, we may have thwarted attacks in every major city.”
“Every city?” Her eyes were huge.
“Yes.” Alex explained, “From the cellphone calls, Homeland determined that this attack was directed by Caliph Ibrahim, the leader of the Islamic State. He wanted to prove he was better than Al Qaeda by hurting the USA more than al Zawahiri’s predecessor bin Laden.”
Shock washed over Gwen’s face. “Did they…are they getting the others?”
Jonathan put his arm around her in support.
Alex’s satisfied grin said more than his words. “Over a thousand warrants are being served tonight in every major city.” He sighed, “Except Dallas. They can’t find Aqil, the man the boys indicated planted bombs.”
The diner door opened and a disheveled Kane entered.
“We’re closed,” Quin commanded and sneered.
“No, shit.” Kane gazed at Gwen who nodded then walked into the back without another glance at the group of men.
“I take it you know him?” Quin asked Gwen as she locked the front door.
“Yes.”
Quin slid a look at Jonathan who gave a very, almost imperceptible nod. He’d had the same impression the first time he’d seen Kane. His opinion hadn’t improved much, only his understanding of the man’s predicament had eased Jonathan’s fears for Gwen’s safety.
Kane emerged with a mop and bucket and started in the far corner of the diner where chairs sat upside down on top of the tables. Jonathan glimpsed Luis moving around the kitchen in shut-down.
Gwen refocused the men on their previous conversation. “So where do you think they intend to attack. Perhaps I can help. I know this area pretty well and after all my years in the Army, I can think like a terrorist.”
She grabbed her computer from under the counter and sat down on her usual stool. After pulling up a map of the area, the men moved in close. Jonathan took the stool on one side of her, Quin on the other.
“So, what are the possibilities?” she asked.
For the next fifteen minutes, they discussed each site Homeland had identified.
“It’ll be the new American Airlines towers,” a deep voice from behind the group claimed.
Everyone turned to Kane.
“And how the fuck would you know that?” Quin’s tone was filled with accusation.
Griffin grabbed the front of Kane’s plaid shirt and pulled him to within an inch of his face. “What do you know about terro—”
Kane swept out his leg and had Gr
iffin on the tiled floor, his large body immovable, a knife at his neck, before he could finish his sentence. “I’ve killed more fucking terrorists than you’ve ever seen. You know nothing about me.”
“Let him up, Kane,” Gwen ordered in calm voice. “He is not your enemy. He’s one of the good guys.”
No one moved.
“Kane,” Jonathan said as casually as he could. “Meet Griffin Mitchel. He’s the manager of the Guardian Security center in Miami. And a former SEAL…like you.”
Kane seemed to leap backwards three feet, quickly folding his knife away. He shoved up his long sleeve exposing the three-toed tracks. “Team Four.” He extended his hand to Griffin. “I’m sorry, brother.”
Griffin took his hand and stood. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”
Kane smiled. “No, you shouldn’t have.”
Alex stepped over to the two former SEALs who were still sizing each other cautiously. “Alex Wolf.” He held out his hand.
“It’s a pleasure to see you, again, sir,” Kane all but stood at attention. At Alex’s questioning look, Kane glanced at Quin then held his gaze on Jonathan. “After we met earlier in the week, I checked you out.” His attention went to Alex. “Then I saw your picture. I recognized you. Guatemala. You were the task force commander and I was the comm sergeant for the Navy contingent, so far down the chain of command I’m sure you don’t remember me.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t.” Alex looked him over again. “What happened?”
Kane sneered then looked to Gwen. She nodded and he returned his gaze to Alex. “Gwen can explain it better, she was there. The bottom line is my unit all caught a bug in the mountains in northern Afghanistan. It about killed us. Some got over it in two weeks, others it took nearly a month, and left all of us weak as babies. Me, well, it attacked my pancreas and left me with Type 1 Diabetes.”
Kane now looked into the eyes of the other men and took a deep breath. “When I got home, I’d lost over forty pounds and needed shots every few hours.” His lips drew a tight line. “I guess my wife forgot the part of our vows, in sickness and in health. She left me within a week. I lost my house, my truck, and my wife while waiting for my VA benefits to kick in.” One end of his mouth cocked up. “I really miss my truck.”
