by Laura Acton
TRF HQ – Conference Room 3 – 10:35 a.m.
Dan shadowed Lexa as she entered one of the meeting rooms. He noted this room required a key to access which Lexa obtained from Alan who manned the dispatcher’s desk today.
Lexa shut the door behind her after Broderick strode into the center and turned to face her. She deliberately finished her tour in here. “Room three is the only soundproof room in the building.”
Dan nodded.
Staring at the blond, Lexa felt like yesterday was a million years ago. She never in her wildest dreams expected to see him again, yet here he stood … right in front of her … with those damned sapphire eyes gawking at her. Lexa cleared her throat. “Last night did not happen.”
“It didn’t? I could’ve sworn you were moaning,” Dan baited her for an unknown objective.
Feet shoulder width apart, fists on her hips, Lexa glared at him and spoke in a deadly serious tone. “No, it did not! We can be fired if they suspect we are in a relationship. Which we are not! I worked too hard, and my career is more important to me than a one-night stand. I am not one of your bimbos. You will not say anything to anyone. If I find out you brag to the guys about sleeping with me, I swear I will kick your ass.”
“You can try,” Dan said cockily to cover his real reaction. Every word out of her mouth became a virtual slap in his face. He respected women—he never broadcast his private relations. Dan couldn’t describe why or how, but one night with her meant something. Yes, they shared hot sex, but he sensed an undercurrent—something primeval. Something … just something more than lust and casual sex.
His flippant manner frustrated and unsettled Lexa. She feared this man would ruin the career she sacrificed everything for with only four little words … I slept with Lexa. Anger surged to the forefront because she couldn’t allow her fear and vulnerability show. Lexa ground out, “I’m a sniper, just remember that. I can take you out, and you’d never see me.”
Dan grinned, he couldn’t help it as the image of her standing naked in front of him in the hotel room filled his mind. He eyed her now and imagined her holding a Remi. His voice laced with innuendo, “A sexy sniper.”
Her eyes flashed with fury and Lexa growled in frustration. Unable to contain herself, she lashed out and punched him hard in the upper arm.
Crap that hurt! Dan chuckled, resisting the urge to rub his stinging arm. “The flies are bad in here,” he goaded her for reasons he still didn’t grasp.
As Lexa landed two more solid punches on his bicep, the damned man only laughed. Thoroughly pissed off by his mirth, Lexa spun and delivered a hard kick to his back. Satisfied when he didn’t chuckle, she stood with feet shoulder width apart, hands on her hips, and eyes glowering at him.
Dan hadn’t expected the kick. He sucked in a sharp breath when her boot connected with the same spot Murphy pummeled and the officer in the bank kneed him. Shit, that really hurt. Refusing to allow his pain to show, Dan schooled his features. His tone came out flat, devoid of all humor or emotion of any kind. “Feel better?”
The reality of what she did crashed into her brain hearing his monotone words. What the hell am I doing? Crud, I struck a fellow officer, not once, not twice, but four times. She blew out a breath. “It never happened.”
Realizing now the inferno which blazed in the golden flecks of her eyes made him push her buttons, Dan couldn’t resist provoking her again. “What? The hot sex or you assaulting me?”
So off-kilter, Lexa’s mouth gaped open. How in the world does this man do this to me? On the whole, I’m a rational person. She glared at him. “Both!” She turned toward the door as she said, “Jon is waiting, and if you don’t want him to kill you, you’ll move your ass.”
Lexa has fiery passion Dan thought as the sexy sniper stormed out. He liked a woman with spirit. I’m going to enjoy making her spark. Taking a step forward, his back twinged where she kicked him. Dan softly groaned. Play with fire and get burned. Worth it to witness her fireworks. He trotted to catch up with her because he had no clue where the track was located.
TRF HQ – Track – 10:45 a.m.
Dan followed Lexa down the stairs and outside to the TRF track. By the time he arrived his feet were screaming at him due to the small boots. He again refused to allow his discomfort to display.
Jon directed, “Five-mile warm up. Broderick, I’ll be timing you. Go.”
They all set off at a slow jog. Dan effortlessly moved to the front of the pack. Five miles in the full light of day without night vision, free of his full gear pack, sniper rifle, and maintaining vigilance for hostiles would make this a walk in the park compared to the distances and conditions under which he typically ran. The only drawback—ill-fitting boots without his special inserts, but he could handle one small inconvenience.
Jon eyeballed the rookie. When Broderick assumed the lead, he let him. He would allow the arrogant man to burn himself out and then overtake Broderick on the last mile.
By mile three, Nick puffed hard. He needed to train more frequently with his team. Though his role was different from theirs, and if he didn’t have so much paperwork and other duties he would be out here more often. As he lagged in the back of the group, Nick found comfort and felt pride that his primary tactical members were so fit.
Nick observed as the new man lapped him—he ran with a fluid grace and little effort. As Bram and Lexa stayed close to Broderick, it surprised him Jon held back—normally setting an arduous pace, not that Broderick’s wasn’t grueling. Ray and Loki were in their normal spots ahead of him, not slow, but not as fast as the others. Loki ordinarily came in last when he didn’t join them, which was alright because Loki’s most valued skill set was technical expertise.
As Dan’s muscles warmed up, he smoothly ran at less than his full capability, his breathing unlabored. He could go faster, but he didn’t want to shove his ability in their faces, especially when he lapped Sarge, Dante, and Ray. With a glance behind he found it a bit astonishing Lexa kept up with her short legs. Dan figured she might be full of surprises.
Bram reminded him of Mason in a way. Tall and broad like Mason, although not quite as tall. At six-foot-ten, Mason reminded Dan of a Scottish Highlander. Bram appeared to be of Nordic descent, and he estimated the entry specialist stood about five inches taller than him which would make Bram about six-four and a half-foot shorter than Mason.
Dan unconsciously started a faster pace as he attempted to outrun the emotional pain he dredged up thinking about Mason. He had a special connection with Mason. Had being the operative word. He had not seen or heard from Mason after he killed Brody. As he thought about it, Dan realized it had been over a year since he’d seen Mason. Does Mason know Brody is dead? Surely Blaze would’ve gotten word to him.
It sucked when Mason left their unit to command another Guardian unit. After Yankee died, a leadership gap existed which needed to be filled. Though the natural choice, Winds turned down the opportunity. Winds and Blaze were best friends, and he wanted to remain Blaze’s second in command, so Mason accepted the promotion.
Damn, why did I kill Brody and blow away everything I care about? I should’ve sensed it was Brody before I pulled the trigger. Dan pushed himself as he surged forward, all thoughts of not showcasing his ability vanished as his anguish overpowered him and he tried to flee his intense guilt.
Bram and Lexa glanced at each other as Broderick pulled away at a punishing speed. Both were hard-pressed to keep up with the pace the rookie set before. Neither wanted the new guy to one-up them, but now, hell, both knew they couldn’t match his velocity. They gaped open mouth trying to draw in air as Jon rapidly closed the gap between him and Broderick.
Breathing heavily, Bram said, “I wondered when our fearless leader would show what he has.”
“He certainly held back.” Lexa agreed as she slowed slightly.
Jon couldn’t believe the rookie’s swiftness. He stepped up his game and only barely caught up. Unsure he could maintain this brutal rate for lo
ng, but he was too competitive to allow the cocky rookie to best him.
Dan ran, his breathing effortless and efficient as he endeavored to outrun his demons. Pulled from his musings when the tactical lead appeared next to him, he was impressed the older man kept up with him. Although, he shouldn’t be … Jon seemed to be about the same age as Blaze, perhaps a little younger. Though, his shaved head was nothing like Blaze’s jet-black hair. Height and a fit body were the only things the two had in common.
Blaze would’ve never treated a new member of the unit the way Jon did him this morning. More pain lanced through Dan. I lost so much with a single bullet. All my brothers—men I would gladly give my life for are gone. All because I killed Brody.
His pain spurred him to dig even deeper for more speed. Dan pushed himself to the limit. Pouring everything he had as memories of Blaze turning away from him and refusing to look him in the eye as he told him Brody was dead circled in his mind. I broke the trust of the man who was both brother and father to me. I let Blaze and the others down … I failed them all. His feet pounded the dirt, bolting ahead of Jon, oblivious to the world around him as deep, aching pain consumed him.
Left in the dust as Broderick sped away, Jon gaped at the blond. Damn, he is like a friggin’ roadrunner. How the hell can he run so fast? Unfounded contempt and a hint of jealousy grew and replaced the small bit of admiration of the man’s ability which tried to surface. Despising to be beaten in any competition, Jon decided the ex-soldier only flaunted his ability to mock them.
Dan hit the five-mile mark but too lost in his demons to realize, he continued running.
When the rookie lapped Loki again, he yelled out, “Broderick, you did five. You can stop now.” When the unwelcome teammate ignored him and kept running, Loki turned to Ray. “He’s a show-off.”
Ray shook his head and quipped, “Jealous?”
His friend’s words hit the mark, and Loki frowned as he admitted, “Yeah, sorta, but you can’t tell anyone.”
Chuckling briefly, Ray patted Loki’s back as he ran at Loki’s pace. “Your secret is safe with me, bro. He sure can run.” He glanced at Jon. “Though it appears he pissed off Jon.”
Loki nodded. “He doesn’t do well when he isn’t the best. Remember when Delta Team beat us in the last training competition? I swear he drilled us to death for a month afterward to punish us.”
“Yeah, but we should’ve won the competition.”
“I’m still sure Aaron cheated. He’s as competitive as Jon but not as forthright,” Loki responded. “And I don’t like the way Aaron looks at Lexa when she isn’t aware. It isn’t right. Lexa deserves respect. Next time he leers at her, I’m gonna pop him one.”
Ray couldn’t agree more. Aaron Plouffe ogled Lexa inappropriately, but he stated, “Lexa can take care of herself. Don’t go all protective brother. You know how she hates when we do.”
Loki chuckled. “Sure, she can, but she shouldn’t have to. Not in the TRF. She earned the right to be here just like the rest of us—Broderick excepted. If Aaron disrespects her again, I’ll defend her, even if it means making her hopping mad and taking a few of her punches.”
“I’ll come visit you in the hospital after she is done with you. Though, I might be in there with you, ‘cause you’re right. No one messes with our Lexa and gets away with it,” Ray said.
Jon stopped when he finished, breathing hard, harder than he had in a long while. Rankled that Broderick out lapped him and continued to be a cocky son of a bitch—still running after completing the five miles and lapping Nick a second time. Fine, let him run and tire out. I’ll have the team do the obstacle course next. That should put this arrogant SOB in his place. Jon grabbed a water bottle out of his pack, uncapped it, and took a sip.
Bram and Lexa completed their run and walked around cooling down.
Lexa’s gaze turned to Dan, she asked Jon, “You gonna stop him?”
“No, he can run until Boss finishes.” Jon reached into his bag withdrawing two bottles of water and handed one to Lexa and Bram. His team needed to remain hydrated for the training session he had planned today.
Ray and Loki jogged over the finish line, winded as they did their cool-down walk. As they sipped the water Jon offered them, they joined the others in cheering on Boss to finish strong.
Nick grinned at his family. Their words of support caused him to dig deep for the last few yards. Huffing and puffing he walked over to the group, wishing to sit down, but remained standing.
Jon put a bottle in Nick’s hand and grinned. “Drink this, so you don’t become dehydrated. Next up is the obstacle course.”
Loki groaned. “You trying to kill us, Jon?”
“Nah, you just need to get out of the truck more often. You’re gettin’ too soft,” Jon joked.
“Hey, you need me in the truck. Not getting soft,” Loki fake pouted.
Bram clapped him on the back as he grinned. “I’ll still have your back if you become a doughboy.”
Loki perked up and quipped, “Right back at ya, big boy. This sleek and finely tuned Italian Maserati will race to your rescue with brilliant techie magic.”
Seeing Broderick rounding the turn again with no sign of stopping, Jon bellowed, “Broderick, get your ass over here! We’re waiting for you to quit showing off so we can move on to the training course.”
Jarred out of his memories, Dan noted everyone staring at him. Crap! I better put my head in the game. I’m not making a good first impression. Dan understood he must prove himself to them and he couldn’t do that if he became distracted and lost in his pain. He halted when he approached them. Dan wiped the sweat from his forehead, waiting to find out what training was next.
“Let’s go,” Jon said as he slung his bag over his shoulder and began to jog towards the obstacle course, not bothering to offer Broderick a water bottle like he had the rest of the team.
Ill-Fitting Boots
12
July 15
TRF HQ – Men’s Locker Room – Shower – 7:00 p.m.
Dan stood in the shower after completing his self-assessment allowing the warm water to cascade down his back soothing tired and aching muscles. Assessment summed up in one word, exhausted! Dan appreciated last night’s decent sleep, without it he would have never made it through Jon’s grueling training day. Blaze would be impressed.
Crap, I have to stop making comparisons to the unit. Dwelling on the past only dredges up the pain. I must focus on the here and now. There are some things etched in stone which can’t be changed. I need to walk away like when Robbie stepped on the landmine.
Not a damned thing any of them could do to save Robbie. They could only share his pain and loss, as they stood by as he died—a brutal reality of being a soldier. He would’ve given his life for any one of his buddies and done anything in his power to safeguard them. But when Atropos’ shears make the final cut of Clotho’s gossamer thread it cannot be elongated by Lachesis…there is nothing left to do but accept the decision of the three sisters of fate.
His bullet severed the thread binding him to Blaze, Winds, Patch, and Mason. The four men still living, for whom he would die and kill for to protect, even though he was dead to them already. Their unwillingness to meet his eyes or talk to him when he lay in the hospital confirmed his status—forsaken. They further verified his fate when they refused to visit him in his barren cell while he awaited the review board’s decision.
Their condemnation of what he did … all too clear. He destroyed their brother, and there would be no forgiveness from them—none was expected. He did the unthinkable and killed Brody. He must mentally walk away from all he treasured.
Halting painful echoes, Dan finished washing. His whole body ached, but he had performed well today—even in ill-fitting boots. He glanced down at his aching feet. A mess of blisters and raw spots, though they would heal.
On the way to the hotel, he would stop at a store and acquire new boots. No way he would go another day wearing the small ones. He
learned to take care of his feet years ago. The pain he endured during rehab after being rescued was not something he ever wanted to experience again.
Dan shut off the water and the flippant banter among the guys filtered in. They appeared to be a cohesive group, and he, well, … a definite outsider. Breaking in a new guy was tough, so he would cut them some slack. He experienced both sides—more on joining other units and mostly as a temporary.
His unit had a few new members over the years, and they always strove to integrate them. The process fraught with challenges because the newbie didn’t share the same bond built by the core group who walked through the fires of hell together. Baboon who filled Mason’s vacant spot came the closest to forming a tie with them, but it took time. Unicorn started to gel with them but died after a couple of months. And Corporal Robbie didn’t even live long enough to be given a code name.
Dan understood integrating into a unit or team took time. He must prove he had something to offer. He needed time to learn the ropes too. TRF and Special Forces were poles apart which is what he wanted. Changing many of his ingrained behaviors, ones which became second nature, would also take time. He sought different—weary of being only a point and shoot guy taking out terrorists. Time to make a change, to save people up close. Perhaps that is how he might make small amends for killing Brody.
Carefully stepping out of the stall on his aching feet, Dan reached for his towel and sighed as he glanced at his jeans and gray shirt. He didn’t miss the ‘what the fuck?’ expressions when he grabbed his clothes and headed to the shower still dressed in his uniform, sans boots. He had no desire for them to view his scars or bruising so this was his only option.
