She forced herself to take her time in walking to the door, slipping her coat on as she did so. Out of habit, she looked through the window to make sure she knew who it was before she opened it.
“Hey, there. Are you ready?” Damian asked. He too was dressed in jeans and wore a leather jacket that hung open over a gray button-up.
“I think so.” She picked up her purse and joined him on the front walk. “Where are we going?”
“It depends. Do you like seafood?”
“I love seafood.”
“In that case, Seth suggested a restaurant not too far from here.” He guided her to the small pickup truck parked next to her car. “I thought we could have some dinner and then go for a drive and check out the area a bit.”
“That sounds good.” She slid into the passenger’s seat to find that even though the upholstery was worn, the interior of the truck was clean. Paige suspected Damian had stopped by the car wash on his way to get her, and she was flattered at the thought.
As soon as he took his seat and started the car, she asked, “How long have you been in the navy?”
“Almost a year.”
“That’s all?” When he nodded, she asked, “What did you do before you joined?”
“I worked in the oil industry for a few years with my father and younger brother. Then I spent a year in banking.”
“Do you like the navy better than those jobs?”
“I do. I wasn’t interested in living on oil rigs, and I definitely didn’t want to spend my life sitting behind a desk. The navy has been a good challenge, even if I do have to carry a gun.”
“Why do you have to carry a weapon?” Paige asked, hoping her voice sounded casual. “I thought most people in the military were only armed when they went into battle.”
“It’s actually not mandatory for most people, but someone up the chain of command decided they wanted us to stay armed. I guess there have been a few situations in the past when that decision has come in handy.”
“What exactly do you do for the navy?”
Damian glanced sideways at her. “You don’t know?”
“Should I?”
“I just figured Vanessa would have told you.”
“No, she just mentioned that you were on her husband’s squad.”
Damian seemed to debate how much he could tell her. Sensing his hesitation, Paige asked, “Do you know where I work?”
“Well, yeah. Seth said Vanessa is CIA, so it only makes sense you are too.”
“Which you do realize isn’t exactly something you can share with people, right?” Paige said.
“I kind of figured.”
“If I can trust you to keep where I work a secret, don’t you think you can trust me with where you work?”
“I guess so.” Damian fell silent until he pulled up to a stoplight. Then he turned to face her before answering. “I’m a Navy SEAL.”
Paige had expected him to say he was in intelligence or maybe research. She even thought he might be in the military police, but a SEAL? That thought hadn’t ever crossed her mind.
When she didn’t respond, Damian said, “You aren’t going to tell me you don’t date SEALs, are you?”
“I’ve honestly never thought about it before. You’re the first SEAL I’ve ever known.”
“Except for my squad.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Paige thought about her time at Vanessa’s a few nights before and the afternoon when she’d first met Damian and his friends. She hadn’t really thought about what they did specifically, but now curiosity blossomed. “What’s it like being a SEAL?”
“So far, all I’ve done is a lot of training. Some of it’s a bit like what you might expect from what you read about or see in the movies, but a lot of it is just basic physical training and a lot of shooting practice.”
Involuntarily, Paige tensed.
“Any chance you’re going to tell me why you’re afraid of guns?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time.”
“It’s not exactly a first-date kind of story.” Paige gave him an apologetic look. “Tell me about you. Where are you from? What’s your family like?”
“I’m originally from Venezuela, but my family moved to Houston when I was thirteen. I think I mentioned my dad and younger brother work on oil rigs. My older brother is living in Germany right now. He’s in international banking.”
“Forgive me, but you don’t look like you’re from Latin America. I always think of people from there as having dark hair and dark complexions.”
“My great grandparents were from Germany. They moved to Maracaibo shortly before World War II and never left.”
“Do you speak German?”
“I do. A lot of my dad’s side of the family went back to Germany when Venezuela’s government started destabilizing, and we used to visit once or twice a year,” he said. “He never had enough money to buy a new truck or the bigger television he had his eye on, but he always managed to find a way to get us plane tickets.”
“Sounds like family was his first priority.”
“Very much so.” Damian glanced over at her. “What about you? What’s your family like?”
“There’s not much to tell. I grew up in a little town in New Hampshire, and I have an older sister.”
“How did you end up working for the CIA?”
“I guess you could say I fell into it.” She was relieved when Damian pulled into the restaurant parking lot. “It looks crowded.”
“I called ahead and made a reservation.” He maneuvered his truck into a spot a couple rows away from the entrance. “If we don’t like the food, we can blame Seth.”
“Are you going to give him the credit if the food is good?”
Damian considered for a moment. “I’ll think about it.”
Paige felt herself relax, relieved to be on safer subjects. They walked into the restaurant, and her mood improved further. The tables were covered with newspaper rather than tablecloths, and the scent of crab and hush puppies permeated the air.
The waiters wore jeans and T-shirts with the restaurant logo emblazoned across the front, and the menus were vinyl covered. In the corner, a live band that sounded suspiciously like Rascal Flatts filled the place with noise.
Paige looked over at Damian. “This place is great.”
She saw the worried expression on his face transform into an answering smile. There was no doubt about it. This place was only one step up from a dive, but if the food tasted nearly as good as it smelled, they were in for a meal worthy of a five-star restaurant.
Chapter 10
Damian stepped out of his truck, his feet crunching on the snow in the parking lot. He caught the scent of the ocean in the air and heard the roar of the waves crashing against the beach.
The food at the restaurant had been great, but the noise level had made it difficult to talk.
After they’d finished eating, Damian had been grateful Paige was still willing to extend their time together when he suggested they go down to the boardwalk.
He was surprised to find that the more time he spent with her, the more curious he became. Every time he asked her something, he felt like her answers spawned another dozen questions in his mind.
He took her hand when she climbed out of his truck. “Watch your step here. It’s icy.”
“I thought all of this snow would have melted by now.”
“It is January.”
“Yeah, but it always seems weird to me to see snow at the beach, especially in the South.”
“Let’s see how much snow is really down there.” Damian tugged on her hand, leading her across the street and down the block to where they could access the wooden boardwalk that spanned the tourist section of town.
The boardwalk itself was a combination of sand and slush, but the beach still had several inches of snow covering it, except for where the tide had melted it. The moon hung low in the sky, illuminating the snow and the crests
of the waves as they came in.
“I’ve always loved a winter beach,” Damian said, staring out at the waves.
“Really? How come?”
“Actually, I love the beach any time of the year, but in the winter, it’s just so peaceful.”
“I agree. It’s nice to not have to deal with the crowds.”
“Definitely not a problem right now,” Damian agreed. Her hand still in his, he guided her to the left, and they strolled past the various hotels that overlooked the ocean. “So what do you have going on tomorrow?”
“The moving truck is supposed to show up with my stuff at nine.”
“Oh, that’s right. Vanessa said we should stop in and help out.”
“I don’t know that there will be much to do. The movers will at least bring everything inside. Then it’s just the joy of unpacking.”
“Do you have a lot of stuff?”
“The usual. Couch, bed, table, kitchen stuff. My old place was about the same size as the new one, so it shouldn’t take too long to get settled in.”
“From what I understand, you won’t want to take too long. Seth made it sound like Vanessa’s quite the taskmaster.”
“I don’t mind. I like the sense of satisfaction I get from finishing something and being able to cross it off my list,” Paige said. “It’s a new experience for me.”
“What do you mean? What did you do before?” The words were barely out of his mouth when he felt his phone vibrate. “I’m sorry. I’d better check this.”
“That’s fine. Go ahead.”
He let go of her hand and retrieved his phone. He read the message twice, not sure how he felt about the prospect of his first mission interrupting his date. “I’m sorry. I have to go into work.”
“On a Friday night?”
“My job isn’t exactly nine to five.”
Paige looked at him suspiciously. “Is this the kind of call that means you might be disappearing into the night for who knows how long?”
“Honestly, this is the first time I’ve had this happen, so I’m not sure.” He put his hand on her back and started guiding her toward the pickup again. “Maybe.”
They walked in silence back to his truck, both of them lost in thought. When Damian dropped her off at her apartment, he walked her to her door and waited for her to unlock it. She turned the knob and turned back to face him. “Be safe.”
“I plan on it,” Damian said, his thoughts and emotions jumbled. “I’ll see you later.”
Paige nodded and, without another word, stepped inside, closing the door between them.
* * *
By the time Damian reached base and reported where he’d been told, his frustration about his date being interrupted was completely overshadowed by an unexpected eagerness and sense of urgency. He found the rest of his squad already standing in a hangar bay, two Humvees parked inside.
“What’s going on?” he asked the group in general.
“We’re shipping out,” Quinn answered with his usual no-nonsense tone.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re heading for the helicopter that will take us out to the Truman,” Brent said, waving his finger to encompass the other five members of the squad. “You’re staying here.”
“Why?”
“Sorry, Damian. It’s a matter of experience,” Brent told him bluntly. “You’ve only been with us two weeks. I don’t feel comfortable taking you into the field yet, especially not on this one.”
“What’s different about this one?”
“I’m afraid it’s need-to-know. Let’s just say we’re familiar with the target.”
“This is ridiculous.” Damian folded his arms across his chest. “You don’t want to take me into the field because I don’t have enough experience, but I can’t get experience unless you give me a shot.”
“Next time,” Brent said before he turned to the others. “Let’s go.”
Damian watched the other members of the Saint Squad climb into the two vehicles, Jay and Quinn shooting him sympathetic glances. Frustration and a strange sense of loss filled him.
As he watched them pull away, he forced himself to face reality. He might be able to call these men his teammates, but he now knew how hollow those words were. They were the real Saint Squad. He was just the guy they’d gotten stuck with.
* * *
Paige stared out the window of her apartment, not sure what she expected to find in the well-lit parking lot. Part of her wished Damian would come back and tell her his message had been a false alarm. Then she wondered why she should want such a thing. After all, she barely knew the guy.
Her phone rang, and she looked down to see her mother’s number displayed. She pressed the talk button. “Hi, Mom.”
“How are you? Are you all settled into your new place?”
“My stuff gets here tomorrow.” Paige sat beneath the window, leaning back against the wall. She fell into the comfortable rhythm of small talk with her mom, letting her bring her up to date on the happenings of the small town she had grown up in. She listened to the news about the man down the street battling cancer and the possibility of the high school basketball team making it to the state championship.
She could picture the scenes so easily, just as she remembered every detail of Main Street and the shops that lined it in the little New Hampshire town. Undoubtedly, the high school gym was busting at the seams every Friday night, and Mr. Edmonds was knee deep in fruit pies and casseroles.
Her thoughts were interrupted when her mother mentioned the one family she had tried so hard to forget. “I heard Russell is coming up for parole in July.”
“That’s nice,” Paige said, hoping her mother wouldn’t dwell on their former next-door neighbor.
“Aren’t you interested in what happens to him?” she asked, her voice a little testy. “After all, you did testify at his trial.”
“It wasn’t like I had much of a choice,” Paige replied. “Did you and Daddy decide whether you’re going to take that cruise to Alaska this summer?”
“Not yet, and don’t change the subject. You of all people know that talking about things can be healing.”
“I also know that dwelling on the past won’t change it.” Paige stood and looked out the window once more. Why was it that she could help other people face their demons, but she couldn’t quite put her own behind her? “I think I’m going to unpack a few more things and then get to bed. I have a big day tomorrow.”
“Okay, sweetie. You take care of yourself.”
“I will, Mom.” Paige hung up before she added, “I always do.”
* * *
“What’s our mission?” Quinn asked as soon as they reached the helicopter pad.
Brent glanced behind him, still feeling lousy about leaving Damian behind. The choice had been his and his alone, but when he had talked to Kel about the mission, he’d felt a sense of uneasiness when he’d considered taking Damian with them, one he couldn’t shake until he’d ultimately decided against it.
He picked up his gear and slung it over his shoulder. “We’re inserting into Venezuela. We’re going after Morenta.”
“The Colombian drug lord? Why would he be in Venezuela?”
“He’s aligned himself with someone in one of the oil companies in Venezuela. The higher-ups are worried about the effects of his influence in an already unstable area.”
“I gather we’re supposed to take him alive,” Seth said.
“You got it. We’re after him and three of his men. CIA and DEA think Morenta is setting up new drug distribution lines through the oil industry out of Maracaibo.”
“Do they really think picking up Morenta will stop that? The one thing with the drug trade is that there’s always someone else ready to step in.”
“Yes, but they think if we can get at least three of our four targets, they can turn them against each other and unravel the whole network. Morenta is also believed to have strong ties with two of the Mexican cartels.”
“Damian’s family is originally from Maracaibo, and they work in the oil industry. Kel and I talked about it at length, and we decided we didn’t want to take the chance that he might have to face down old friends or family members.”
“Does he still have family there?”
“His maternal grandparents and several aunts, uncles, and cousins.”
“You could have told him the real reason we weren’t taking him with us.”
“Too risky. We don’t want him inadvertently telling someone we’re headed into Venezuela.”
Seth looked skeptical. “Is there some other reason you left him behind?”
“Just a gut feeling, the kind I can’t explain.”
Seth nodded. The Saint Squad had learned to trust their intuition. “Damian will get over it.”
Either inspiration or unconscious logic was at work here, and Brent knew it was best to listen to it. “Eventually,” Brent agreed.
Chapter 11
Damian barely slept, and he couldn’t eat. He hated this, being left behind, not knowing what the men he had been training with for the past two weeks were facing. Clearly they weren’t worried about going into battle without him. Why should they be? They had done it so many times before. But he was worried and edgy.
Brent’s explanation about experience had hurt, but now Damian wondered if his commanding officer had had other motives. Had he felt Damian’s skills weren’t strong enough for the mission they had been assigned? Was he worried Damian would fail to perform when they were out in the field?
Admittedly, he had frozen for a brief time on the rappelling tower when his line had come loose, but he had recovered quickly enough, hadn’t he?
Questions and doubts continued to plague him, and he went for an early-morning run to try to chase them away. When that didn’t work, he showered and changed, deciding he might as well go help Paige move in. After all, the other guys in the squad weren’t going to be available today.
Drop Zone Page 6
