by Tl Reeve
Already, the grieving villagers were lined up to find their loved ones. This was the part of the job he hated. How had a simple recon mission gone FUBAR so fucking fast? They were there to assist, and now, they led. The final dead tally had gone from ninety-eight to one hundred thirty-six innocent souls.
“Commander Rainer.” His groin tightened at the sound of her voice. He’d been a fool earlier nipping her bottom lip, but having her close to him had him forgetting his place. The soft tropical scent of her body wash wrapped around him, stealing his senses. He didn’t give a damn if he got into trouble for making a play for her in public.
“Dr. Rae.” He cut his gaze toward her as she eased into his tent.
“I thought I’d give you an update on my patients.”
He sat up a little straighter and turned off the tablet he’d been reading. “How are the children?”
“All are faring well. Juan needs a few more days on antibiotics, but his pain is at a manageable level and he’s hungry.” She crossed her arms, lifting her chin a bit in defiance.
Not this woman; she’s too strong to give into fear. “Anything else?” He trailed his fingertips over her knuckles and felt said tremor work through her hands. “What do you need, Rae?”
“Nothing. I think I’m crashing hard from the adrenaline.”
He went to his cooler and grabbed a bottle of water and a pack of squeezable peanut butter. “You don’t have a peanut allergy, do you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Good. This will help balance you out. Tons of protein and a little sugar. Did you eat when you were first settled?” He placed the water and pack in front of her.
“Well, I…”
“Damn it, Rae.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “How can you take care of the kids if you don’t keep yourself healthy?”
She shrank away. “This was a mistake...coming here. We’ll be ready to go when you are.”
“No. Shit. Stop. Wait.” He grabbed her hand and shards of electricity shot through him. What the fuck? “I’m being a dick. My head's not on right.”
She gave him a “ya think” look and he laughed.
“While we’re saying sorry,” she plopped down in the chair behind her, “I should apologize, too.”
“For what?”
“Telling you to go beat your meat.” Her blush returned and Asher bit the inside of his cheek. “It wasn’t one of my finer moments.”
He laughed. “Well, I did provoke you. So, we’ll call it even.”
“Sounds good.” She tore into the peanut butter. “Did you pilfer my stash?” She held up the DWB red and white package.
“Talk to Alex. He found them.”
“He owes me for these.” She squeezed some onto her tongue.
His dick jerked in his pants. His mind went straight to the gutter, imagining her mouth wrapped around his cock, or better yet, spilling his come on her tongue like she had with the peanut butter. Nutritional spreads should not invoke thoughts of sex. It was unnatural. I wonder how it would taste on her skin?
Get the fuck out of here with that shit. He tapped the screen of his tablet and went back to reading. He had to do something to get the errant thoughts out of his mind, or else.
“Don’t think too hard.”
He snorted. If she only understood the double entendre of her words. “I won’t. Don’t worry.” He received word from Callahan that all the bodies had been accounted for and were either cremated or buried. They were free to go home. “Well, it looks like it’s your lucky day, Rae. You’re going home.”
4
Two hours later, his entire team, Rae, and the three Barclay team members were on a diverted C130 heading to R.O.O.T.’s home base—an abandoned naval base in Virginia. The plane was land at Pungo Naval Base, unload its cargo, and continue to Andrews AFB with no record its flight plan had changed or that it carried additional cargo.
Got to love black ops.
Maria stayed in Colombia with the twins. They had no one, and she refused to leave them alone in the jungle. No matter how many times Hanover tried to persuade her to come with them and bring the twins, her damn moral compass wouldn’t budge. It worried Asher. If anyone, including Barclay or the cartel, found out she survived, they’d come for her.
However, she relented and allowed two guards to watch over her and the children, with the option of extraction if shit went sideways. The team inbound to protect her and the kids would arrive within the hour. He only hoped they got to her in time.
Each member of his team was doing their own thing during the five-hour flight homebound. O'Malley worked on his mission reports, Hanover slept, Callahan tapped into the flight’s communications and Schoell had been lovingly cleaning his AK-47. He kept a keen eye on the Barclay team.
Prior to the flight departing, he told O'Malley to sit them together so he could observe them during the flight. Tinsman looked jumpy, his right leg bounced up and down. Bastard was nervous and guilty as fuck about something.
James, on the other hand, pretended to be asleep. He wasn’t fooling anyone. His eyes fluttered open every time the big C130 shook with turbulence. He was trying to hide. Asher’s gaze flickered to where Joseph Franks sat. He rested his elbows on his knees while his hands were clasped in front of his mouth as he stared straight ahead.
Tinsman had attempted to talk to him more than once, but Franks had ignored him. He even got up and moved to another seat.
“Boss,” Callahan yelled over the roar of the engines, “incoming call for you.” Drew's gaze darted between the Barclay team members in warning. Must be a high-level call and he would need to take it in private. He had to protect R.O.O.T.
“I'll take it in the interior hold.” He stood and made his way toward the cockpit. Rae had been situated toward the front of the hold. Not wanting to disturb her sleep, he pulled the army-green blanket over her shoulders, tucking it in around her. Cargo holds on the C130 weren't exactly warm and toasty.
Reaching the interior hold, he snagged the phone. “Commander Rainer.” A series of clicks and tones secured the line, which meant whoever he was talking to had clout.
“Asher. What the hell is going on, boy? The World News has been playing a nonstop loop of video from the mission. It's not making us look good.”
Leave it to his uncle to get right to the point. “Well, hello to you, too. I'm fine by the way.”
“Don't be a smartass. I know you’re fine. Too damn stubborn to die,” his uncle, Senator Jefferson Winters, mumbled. “Are you going to answer my damn question or not?”
“Barclay confiscated the video feeds from their personal cams before they pulled out.”
“And you allowed it?” The shock in his uncle’s voice had him smirking. “What the hell, boy? What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I have a set from our body cams and aerials.” His team busted his balls for having multiple scenarios and plans during every mission. He functioned better knowing he had planned for every contingency. His gut had churned and burned—a sure sign some nefarious shit was about to go down. “Relax. Barclay is fucking clueless.” He never went into a situation without covering his ass, especially if shit could go sideways, like now.
“Don't tell me to relax. I got the president and the U.N. Security Council up my ass, demanding answers. Barclay is claiming your team slaughtered those people in the village.”
“I assure you, we did not.” What was Barclay’s end game? Yeah, it didn't take a genius to figure out they wanted his team to be held accountable. But why had they murdered so many and what did they hope to gain from their deaths? Those questions kept playing in his mind on an almost nonstop loop since this all happened. “O'Malley's prelim report will be to you before we touch down. Mine will follow. We also have an eyewitness and three members of Barclay's team to interrogate.”
“How the hell... You know what, never mind. I don't want to know,” his uncle groused.
“What you don't know, you can't testify to.”
He threw his uncle's favorite motto back at him.
“Now isn't the time to joke, Asher.” He heard the censure in his uncle's tone.
“One hundred thirty-six people were murdered in front of our eyes less than twelve hours ago and we were unable to stop it. Trust me, I wasn't joking,” he snapped. “I will call you when I have updates.” Without a goodbye, he slammed the phone down in a rare fit of anger. If he didn't get rid of some of this building aggression, he was going to blow. A night of fucking or fighting was in his near future.
* * *
Hours later, he gently shook Rae awake. After everything she had been through, she at least deserved to be woken gently. Everyone had disembarked and their supplies had already been removed from the plane and stored underground. The flight crew was waiting on him and Rae. Once they got off, the massive cargo plane would continue to Andrews, its final destination.
Rae blinked once, twice, before her gaze locked onto his. His dick, which had been semi-hard since their little conversation in his tent, went to full on erection when she licked her lips. Lips so full and pink it didn't take much imagination on his part to wonder what they'd feel like wrapped around his dick, sucking him dry.
Fuck me. He needed to get his damn head on straight. At this rate, he'd be spending hours in the gym, sweating out all the pent-up anger.
Clearing his throat, he held his hand out to her. “We're here.”
“Where?” Ignoring his hand, she pulled the blanket from around her body and stood.
“Stateside. Command, to be more specific.” He couldn't keep his eyes off her. Even in rumpled dirty clothes with tendrils of blonde hair sticking out everywhere from her ponytail, she was a beautiful, sexy woman. Right now, he needed to focus on the mission and not her breasts, her sweet ass, or what he suspected was an even sweeter pussy. Finding out what happened to the villagers and protecting this little woman in front of him had to be his priorities.
“I can go from here?” Her hands went to work folding the blanket, which once done, she placed back on her seat.
“We'll see.” Making no promises, he took her elbow and led her out the rear loading ramp into the fading light of day.
“How is this your command? There is nothing around!”
“Looks can be deceiving, darlin'.” He mimicked Schoell's southern drawl perfectly. “We need to move to a bunker. Plane needs to take off.”
“What bunker?” She pulled her elbow out of his grip and her head turned left and right, looking for something around the abandoned airfield.
“Trust me?”
Long seconds passed as a wide range of emotions showed on her face. Hate, disgust, fear and then finally acceptance. With a quick nod, she placed her hand back on his forearm.
He walked them to a little bunker cut out in a hill, hiding the entrance from prying eyes. The sliding metal door was deceptive in appearance. It looked old and rickety. It was anything but. It weighed close to two thousand pounds and the hinges were thirty pounds apiece. No one was getting into command unless they worked there or had an invitation.
To the right of the door was a biometric panel. Each team member’s handprint was coded into the system, no one else's. Once cleared, the panel popped open and a retinal scan would be performed, followed by voice-recognized authorization. After stepping through the doors, they had one last security check to complete. A full body scan. It had the ability to check DNA and compare it against the last time the person entered the center. When the check had been authenticated, then the interior doors opened, allowing access into the belly of the beast.
Rae stood silent as a mouse as they cleared all security checks. O'Malley had already called ahead to grant the good doctor clearance on Asher’s directive.
“Holy shit,” she muttered as a man on a Segway rode past them. “Isn't that a bit overkill?”
“Nope. Command is massive. We have miles of tunnels and those things, along with bikes and golf carts, make it easy to get place to place.”
As if on cue, O'Malley pulled up in a golf cart. “Your chariot awaits.”
“After you.” He gestured to the back seat. Once she was settled, he slid in next to his second-in-command. “Everyone comfortable?”
“They fussed a little about having to wear the hoods when they got off the plane.” O'Malley chuckled. Not a good sign. It meant something happened.
“How much is a little?”
“The James guy tried to bum rush Hanover. It didn't exactly end in his favor.” O’Malley paused for dramatic affect. Something he hated about his 2IC. He did it to piss him off. “No worries, boss. Hanover just broke James’ nose. He'll survive. Medics are tending to him now.”
“And the others?”
O'Malley glanced over his shoulder at Rae. Turning, he noticed the good doctor was listening intently to their conversation.
“Want to continue this in front of the doc?”
“Yeah.” He faced forward. “She's a witness.”
“If you say so, boss.” Damn it. It seemed his ever observant 2IC had noticed his interest in the doctor. Paranoid much? Yes.
“I say so.”
“Okay, boss.” And just like that, Rae had become one of them. O'Malley would spread the word about what he believed was Asher’s interest in the doc. The guys would treat her like one of their own. “Tinsman and Franks are currently waiting in interrogation. James will soon join them. I have Murray building their files now.”
Murray was their resident hacker. By the time Murray was done, he'd know almost everything about Barclay’s men, even how much debt they had and when they paid their last credit card bill.
“We'll need the information before we talk to them.”
“Yeah, well, Tinsman and James are crying for a lawyer.”
He snorted. Black ops were labeled black ops for a reason. They didn't provide lawyers.
“Separate them, but make sure they can see each other. I don't want them talking together now.”
“Tinsman’s no dumbass. He’s already trying to figure out how he’s going to get out of here, and who will help him.”
He shrugged. “Don't really give a shit. Especially if he's as guilty as I suspect he is.”
“I figured you'd feel that way.”
“Guilty of what?” Rae asked.
He tensed at her touch when she tried to wiggle her way between their shoulders. Son of a bitch, she still hadn't figured out they were there to help her. Even after they had gone through all those damn security checks.
“Of being involved in the murder of one hundred thirty-six men, women, and children.” Tired and a more than a little horny, Asher didn't hold back. “Like I told you. We're the good guys.”
He groaned when she moved back to her seat.
“Relax, Doc, this ain't our first rodeo.” Jake glanced at him. He didn't miss the questioning look in his friend's eyes. Wasn't anything he hadn't asked himself earlier. Why her? Why now? He didn't have his answer. He just knew he wanted her. It would have to wait, though. Priorities. “Where you want me to bunk her?”
What a loaded question. He suspected the good doctor would protest if he said his rack.
“Close.”
Jake nodded as if he understood his dilemma, and with his history, maybe he did.
O’Malley weaved in and out of the tunnels, stopping once they hit their housing block. Turning off the engine, he turned toward the doctor. “Room 505 is empty. It's now yours.” He handed Rae a key card to her room that also provided limited access within the underground building. Couldn't get any closer to Asher, as well. His room was 503, next door. Not like she’d be there long.
Procedures stated civilians were allowed a maximum of twelve hours on base unless longer was deemed necessary. He knew it wouldn't be imperative for the good doctor to remain. Once he was done handling the men from Barclay, he would take her to the safe house.
He jumped out of the cart in an attempt to help her, but of course, she didn't want it or take it.
“What exactly am I supposed to do?”
“Get a hot shower, get dressed—”
“I don't have any clothes,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, you do. Everything you should need is already in the room,” Jake interjected.
“Rest and either Jake or I will get you when it's time to go,” he added.
She nodded in acknowledgement, then scanned the key card over the device. The echo of the locks disengaging filled the silent hallway. The need to kiss her sweet lips urged him forward, not even caring Jake would witness the entire thing and bust his balls. He touched her shoulder to stop her. Her brow furrowed at his action and before she could ask, he leaned down and touched his lips to hers.
She didn't jerk back or smack him. He took it as a good sign and deepened the kiss, ignoring Jake. His dick stirred back to life underneath his ACUs and she must have felt it since she broke the kiss and moved back from him.
“Perhaps later we can have our heart to heart.”
“Perhaps. But understand it's a give and take, Commander.” Her meaning was clear. If he expected her to talk, he'd have to fill her in on who and what he was.
“Got it.” He smiled at her before hopping back into the cart with Jake, who wasted no time starting it back up and tearing off toward the holding rooms.
“Hope you know what you're doing, boss.” He heard the hint of worry in O’Malley's voice. He even understood it.
“Have no clue. I'm winging it,” he admitted.
Jake muttered under his breath as he slammed on the brakes outside of where Barclay’s men—Tinsman, James, and Franks—now resided.
Murray stepped out the door, four files held in his hands.
“Those for me?”
“Sure are.” Murray handed them over.
“Anything interesting?” He'd read them himself, but Murray had an eidetic memory and would give him the short and sweet versions.
“Franks is the only member who has a family. Wife, daughter, who happens to be sick. He's bleeding money for her care. I suspect it's why he left the military and hooked up with Barclay. Tinsman was dishonorably discharged from the Marines. He apparently has an authority problem.”
