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Drop Zone

Page 4

by Traci Hunter Abramson


  She spoke with the hostess for a moment, who pointed her in their direction. The instant she saw their full table, she hesitated. She seemed to be waging some mental battle before walking toward them.

  “Paige, this is my husband, Seth, and the rest of his squad.” Vanessa shifted so Paige was standing right beside her. “Guys, this is my new assistant, Paige Vickers.”

  Vanessa proceeded to list everyone’s name, beginning with Seth’s and going around the table until she finally listed Damian’s.

  Damian watched his teammates offer cursory greetings as they were introduced, but he took advantage of his close proximity to the newcomer and reached out to shake Paige’s hand. “It’s good to meet you.”

  She looked up, and he saw her eyes weren’t blue after all but a deep chocolate brown. He’d always had a weakness for brown eyes. Damian stepped clear of his seat and asked, “Would you two like to join us?”

  Paige deferred to Vanessa, looking back at her with a questioning glance.

  Vanessa then looked up at Seth. “Are we interrupting anything?”

  “No, not at all.” Seth grabbed an extra chair from the next table over and slid it in place beside his while Damian did the same. “Hey, Damian. Go ask the bartender to set us up with a round of drinks.”

  “What does everyone want?” Damian asked.

  Brent answered for him. “Just tell him we’ll take our usual. He knows us.”

  “Okay.” Damian made his way to the bar, not sure what he thought about his squad deciding to drink at only four in the afternoon.

  He wondered if his new teammates would think less of him if he opted for water instead of whatever they were planning to consume. After watching his uncle struggle with alcoholism for years, Damian had made the conscious choice not to drink. His uncle’s untimely death two years ago from cirrhosis of the liver had reinforced that decision.

  He put their order in and turned to see the women settling down at their table and the rest of the squad reclaiming their seats. His squad, he reminded himself. He belonged to the Saint Squad now, even if he did feel like he didn’t deserve to claim the title.

  The bartender set down a tray with glasses and two full pitchers, along with a double order of wings. Damian looked at the dark liquid in front of him. “What’s this?”

  “Root beer.”

  “I’m not sure this is what they had in mind. I thought they wanted a pitcher of beer.”

  “You’re with the Saint Squad, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “They don’t drink.”

  “They don’t drink?” Damian repeated.

  “Nope.” The bartender’s voice was confident, and for a moment, Damian wondered if perhaps he was the butt of a prank, maybe playing into some kind of initiation into the squad. “They’re all Latter-day Saints.” At Damian’s blank look, the bartender added, “You know. Mormons.”

  Damian knew a little about Mormons. He’d had a couple Mormon friends in high school and remembered they didn’t drink. Still, what was the likelihood that all five men in his squad belonged to the same religion?

  Resigned to the possibility that he was being duped and not seeing any way to know for sure if the bartender was serious, he picked up the tray. He prepared himself for the heckling and the laughter, but it didn’t come.

  Jay picked up one pitcher and started pouring. “I think this round should be on me.”

  Still uncertain, Damian slid into his seat between Jay and Paige. He looked at the other men at the table, wondering what would happen next. He didn’t expect Vanessa to pick up on the unspoken undertones.

  Her eyebrows lifted inquisitively. “Is there any particular reason this round should be on Jay?”

  Seth was quick to step in. “Oh, he was just helping Damian over there feel like part of the squad in our training exercises today.”

  “Exactly how did he do that?” Vanessa asked.

  “Just messing around. You know Jay.”

  Damian watched in amazement. Today on the tower, Seth had been fearless. He had climbed without reservation to help him and Jay and, up until now, had always exuded a quiet confidence. Now, with his wife staring at him, he looked like a teenager trying to hide a misdeed from his parents.

  Vanessa looked over at Jay and then at Damian. “Damian, do you know what happened?”

  Now that Vanessa’s dark gaze was pinned on him, he could see why Seth was squirming. The woman clearly knew they were keeping something from her, and his teammates obviously didn’t want the truth shared. Or more specifically, Seth didn’t want his wife to know what had happened.

  Damian decided this was as good a time as any to establish some trust with his new unit. Keeping his eyes directly on Vanessa, he said, “Yes, ma’am. I know what happened today.”

  Damian didn’t expound on his answer, and after several seconds Vanessa said, “What exactly was it?”

  “I guess you could say Jay drew the short straw when Seth decided I should learn more about teamwork.”

  “And?” Vanessa prompted.

  “Now, ma’am. Please tell me you don’t expect me to give all the details of a potentially awkward situation. We are in mixed company.” He gestured toward Paige, deciding he could use her presence to his, and ultimately to Seth’s, advantage. “Miss Vickers here is a very attractive woman. What if I want to ask her out? You wouldn’t want me to embarrass myself by telling you all about my troubles, would you?”

  “Maybe Paige has a boyfriend, so it won’t matter anyway,” Vanessa suggested.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” Quinn asked Paige.

  Paige shook her head, although she looked a little uncomfortable when she answered. “No, not at the moment.”

  “See, Vanessa. There could be hope for them,” Quinn said playfully.

  Vanessa pursed her lips and stared at Damian for several long seconds. Then she asked, “You didn’t shoot anyone, did you?”

  “No, ma’am. I didn’t shoot anyone.” Damian thought back to when he had first met Seth and had overheard a similar comment after he’d left Kel’s office. Curious, he said, “Forgive me for being blunt, but why does everyone keep expecting me to shoot someone?”

  “Because you’re the new guy.”

  “Is this some ritual I should know about?”

  Jay’s cheeks colored slightly, and he shook his head. “Seth still won’t let me forget a minor incident on my first mission.”

  “I gather you shot someone,” Damian said dryly.

  “Yeah.” Seth nodded emphatically. “He shot me.”

  “Considering we’re taught to shoot to kill, I have to say, Seth, you look pretty good for a dead man.”

  “It was a tranquilizer gun.” Jay rolled his eyes as several of the others chuckled. “He was only out for twenty minutes.”

  “Jay, that doesn’t change the fact that you shot me.”

  Damian couldn’t help but smile. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll let that little incident remain an isolated one.”

  “Excellent idea,” Brent said.

  * * *

  Paige wasn’t sure what to think of Vanessa and her husband’s squad. One thing was certain. These men, despite their obvious physical strength, had a lot of respect for her new boss. Or perhaps it was fear. Clearly Seth was hiding something about the day’s events, and his men were following his lead to keep his secret intact. Conversation conveniently stayed on safe topics, though embarrassing stories that Vanessa was already aware of appeared to be fair game.

  The six men sitting around the table were unique in more ways than one. Each of them was handsome in his own rugged way, and they appeared to have very different backgrounds. If it hadn’t been for the extreme differences in their appearances, Paige would have guessed that Tristan and Quinn were related somehow. Their interactions showed a familiarity that went beyond mere friendship. Even if she could look past Tristan’s height and light hair compared to Quinn’s average height and dark hair, Trista
n’s Texan drawl indicated he hadn’t grown up with Quinn.

  Damian was another oddity in her mind. His blond hair and blue eyes didn’t quite line up with his Hispanic accent. She discovered he was a new addition to the unit and didn’t miss the mixed signals about him from the squad. While several of the men appeared wary when Vanessa started questioning Damian, Jay seemed to go out of his way to include him.

  Paige also hadn’t miss the flicker of interest in Damian’s eyes when they had shaken hands and sensed that he too felt ill at ease. When Damian was nominated to go to the bar for another round, Paige stood up as well. “I’ll help you.”

  “I appreciate it.” He pulled her chair out a little farther and led the way to the bar.

  “Your unit seems like an interesting bunch of guys. How long have you been with them?”

  “One week.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yeah,” Damian said. “How do you like working for Seth’s wife so far?”

  “It’s different than what I’m used to. We were actually just looking at apartments.”

  “I may have to ask for your help when I start looking for a place. Maybe you can steer me in the right direction.”

  “Where are you staying now?”

  “In the barracks.” He gave the bartender their order before turning his attention back to her. “It’s fine for now, but I’d like to get settled somewhere so I can bring my dog out here with me.”

  “What kind do you have?”

  “A black lab mix. My sister is keeping him for now, but I think she’s looking forward to sleeping in. Harley is pretty insistent on having his 5:00 a.m. runs.”

  “That’s funny. I was just thinking about how nice it would be to have a dog to run with,” Paige admitted. “Although, I’m usually a 6:00 a.m.–run kind of person. Of course, working for Vanessa, I may have to start running earlier.”

  “Having a dog to run with is great . . . unless you want to sleep in. Dogs don’t understand what a weekend is.”

  Paige lowered her voice. “I’m not sure Vanessa knows what a weekend is either.” She glanced back at their table to see Quinn and Tristan chatting, their eyes on Damian and Paige. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they were talking about. Undoubtedly, they were speculating on whether Damian was going to make a move on Paige.

  “You do realize I’m going to have to ask you out now,” Damian announced, his voice low.

  One eyebrow winged up, and she glanced over at him. “Oh, really?”

  “Really.” Damian nodded toward the table. “You wouldn’t want to make me look bad in front of the guys, would you?”

  “I doubt you need me to impress them. I think Seth already owes you for surviving Vanessa’s interrogation.”

  Damian wisely avoided her last comment and appeared determined to stay on track. “Seriously, what are you doing tonight? Since we’re both new to the area, maybe we can go explore the city together.”

  Paige considered his suggestion. She was tempted for the first time in months to say yes. After all, Damian was a good-looking, intelligent guy who seemed nice enough. Yet, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go on a date knowing he might be less interested in her than he was in proving himself to the other men in the room.

  When he shifted beside her and leaned forward on the bar, she caught a glimpse of something she hadn’t expected to see. The bulge of a gun handle in the back of his waistband.

  The image of a black pistol and blood-covered tile flashed into her mind, and she battled it back. She could feel her face pale, and she swallowed before forcing herself to speak. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “Why not?” Damian asked, clearly confused by her sudden change of mood.

  The bartender set a full pitcher of root beer and the order of chips and salsa Jay had requested on the bar. Rather than answer his question, Paige picked up the chips and salsa. “I’ve got these.”

  Without another word, she hurried back to their table, leaving Damian behind.

  Chapter 7

  He was irritated and frustrated. “It didn’t work.”

  “What do you mean, it didn’t work?” the woman beside him asked, equally frustrated. “I thought you said it was foolproof.”

  “It should have been. I don’t know how they all survived.”

  “Now what?” She raked her hands through her dark hair, holding it up off her neck while she considered the latest news. Letting her hair fall back down, she continued. “We have to find something to draw her out. A funeral was the perfect scenario.”

  “Maybe we need to stop trying to chase her and make her come to us,” he suggested.

  “How can we do that?”

  He gave her a devious look, one she recognized well in the handsome face. “I think we need a conflict, one that will require a certain squad of Navy SEALs.”

  “What good will that do us?” she asked.

  He slid a hand around her waist and drew her closer. “I have a feeling Vanessa Johnson will be quick to get back in the field when her husband doesn’t come home.”

  “I assume you have a plan?” she asked, tipping her head to look up at him.

  “Don’t I always?”

  * * *

  Damian felt a sense of anticipation when he took a seat in the briefing room. There was a chance he was being sent out on his first mission. Then he saw the NCIS officer who had been at the rappelling tower the day before. In addition to the squad and him, there was also a woman wearing civilian clothes sitting beside Brent.

  Larry Steinert waited for everyone to take their seats before he handed an envelope to Brent and sat across from him. “Those are the preliminary findings, but it was sabotage.”

  “We already knew that,” Brent reminded him.

  “I’m afraid there isn’t much in there you didn’t already know.”

  “Do you have any suspects?” Quinn asked.

  “Nothing so far. The window of time when the damage could have been done to the rappelling anchors is pretty wide. Because of the storms and the holidays, your squad was the first to use it in nine days.”

  “Great,” Seth muttered.

  “Any idea who might be holding a grudge against you or someone in your squad?”

  “I can’t think of anyone who’s not behind bars, at least not anyone who knows who we are.” Brent turned to look at the rest of the group. “What about any of you? Jay, any chance your in-laws are coming after you again?”

  Jay shook his head. “They’d go after Carina before they’d come after me. Besides, they had every chance to get at us at our wedding a couple of weeks ago.”

  Damian looked at Jay, confused.

  Jay gave him a careless shrug. “My wife’s father was part of the Chicago mob. We’ve had a few run-ins.”

  “Seriously?” Damian asked, the expressions on everyone’s faces confirming the unlikely story as truth.

  “I’ll check that out just to make sure, but I tend to agree with Jay,” Larry said. “What about the rest of you?”

  Everyone shook their heads.

  “Okay. Well, if anything comes to mind, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll be back at my office scouring surveillance videos.”

  “Have fun with that,” Quinn said.

  As soon as Larry left the room, Brent said, “In light of what happened yesterday, we’re changing our training schedule.” He turned to the woman beside him. “Amy?”

  “I have the new schedules right here.” Amy stood and moved around the table, handing out the new schedules. “I had to bump some of your flight training up to tomorrow because of the dive schedule.”

  “By the way, Damian, Amy is our intelligence officer.”

  “And Brent’s wife,” Tristan offered.

  Damian took a moment to process this latest tidbit of information. He looked at Brent. “So you’re married to our intelligence officer, Seth’s wife is CIA, and Jay’s wife grew up in the mob.”

  “That’s right,” Seth answered
for all of them.

  “You guys are married too, right?” Damian asked Quinn and Tristan.

  “That’s right.”

  “What do your wives do? Work for the FBI?”

  “Actually, my wife, Riley, trains police departments in first-responder scenarios,” Tristan said. “Quinn’s wife is just an artist.”

  “I’d like to see you say that to Taylor when she’s in the room,” Quinn countered, humor in his voice.

  “No, that’s okay.” Tristan stood. “I value my life.”

  “Why don’t you go value your life out on the shooting range?” Amy suggested.

  “Great idea,” Tristan agreed.

  * * *

  Paige walked through the town house slowly, listening to the sounds of the neighborhood, waiting for any sign of whether she could feel safe here. She liked how quiet it was and the way this particular unit was located on the end of the building.

  From what she could tell, all of the units in this building were one-bedroom, which meant she wouldn’t likely hear much in the way of children playing. Not that she minded kids. She just didn’t want to wake up to one screaming at this stage in her life.

  She looked out the kitchen window to see the parking lot and grassy area along the front walk, a few patches of snow still evident in the shade. A large oak was visible to the left, and she imagined it would provide shade during the summer months.

  Beyond the parking lot, she could see more units, and in the distance, she could make out the top of the pool house. She liked knowing she would have such easy access to the water. Besides the pool, she could walk to the bay. If she wanted to visit the beach, she could drive there in less than fifteen minutes. She would also have the benefit of easy access to the freeway.

  She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself living here alone. It was easy to visualize during the day, but after dark was another matter. Determined to face her fears, she let her nightmares play through her mind. The voices rising in anger, the shouts and threats, the gunshots.

  Jennifer had always talked about how well Paige related to their patients in the counseling center, but Paige had never been able to tell her it was because she knew how they felt. It might not have been her family who had lost someone that day when she’d been only fifteen years old, but she knew what it was like to hurt, and she knew what it was like to lose.

 

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