by Justine Davis, Amy J. Fetzer, Katherine Garbera, Meredith Fletcher, Catherine Mann
“Yes. You?”
She wasn’t sure what he wanted to know. “I haven’t noticed you noticing me.”
“Well, I do.”
“Like it?”
“Hell, yeah,” he said. “Come here, Tory.”
“No. I’m not even sure I really trust you, Ben.”
“What’s not to trust?” he asked, standing and walking slowly toward her.
She refused to back away from him. “Everything. You’re a chameleon and you change to suit your environment. How can I be sure this isn’t just another act?”
“How can I be sure this isn’t about your exclusive interview?”
“I guess we can’t trust each other,” she said slowly.
“You make me crazy.”
He tugged her off balance and into his arms. Lowering his head slowly, he gave her plenty of time to back away. But she didn’t. She liked the feel of his arms around her. Lifting her hands, she cupped his jaw. Then he kissed her.
It was a slow and deeply carnal kiss that stripped away all the superficial reasons that she’d been storing up in her head to say no to him. She forgot about Perry waiting in New York. And Jay, who’d been flirting with her forever. She was afraid of Ben and what he made her feel because he challenged her.
And he had secrets that she suspected she’d never be able to understand. She lifted her hands, framing his face and trying to take control of the embrace. But he tilted his head to the side and forced hers back.
His tongue made languid sweeps into her mouth, and his fingers on her jaw stroked up and down. His hands slid down underneath his shirt and her T-shirt. He scraped his fingernail along the edge of her bra, and she shivered.
He lifted his head and stared down at her while they both struggled to breathe.
Ben stiffened and pushed her to the side, reaching for his side arm. “What?”
“Shh…someone’s coming,” Ben said. He lifted his gun and pointed it toward the dark opening of the cave as a figure moved toward them.
Chapter 10
“Put that gun away, stud,” said Tom King as he entered the area. Ben flicked on the safety of his gun. Tory shifted farther away from Ben. His hands lingered at her waist, sliding down her leg as she stood up.
“The chopper is in the air again. This time quartering the area with a searchlight. We need to get moving.”
Ben nodded and pushed to his feet. His eyes were narrowed in what she was coming to think of as his work mode. “Get your stuff together, Tory.”
“I’m ready.” Picking up her black backpack by the straps, she waited for her orders.
“Think fast,” Ben said.
She glanced up just in time to catch the gear he tossed to her. Night-vision goggles.
Tom gathered his stuff and put on his own NVGs. Ben handed her the submachine gun again. She doubted she’d use it. Tom and Ben had much more skill. But she didn’t want to be a liability on this team, and being the only one without a gun could make her that.
Ben handed the second gun to Tom. He slung it over his shoulder. Tory’s fingers itched for her camera, but it was too late to really capture what she’d just seen. Two men who had in a moment been transformed into warriors.
As Ben led the way out of the cave into the inky darkness of the night, Tory saw the story unfolding in her head. Scarred and battle-hardened men who fought for their country while most of those they fought for lived their lives unaware.
They spoke little as they walked through the jungle. They made quick time, hiding in the thick brush twice when a searchlight passed over them. For the most part their journey was uneventful.
“This is more like it,” Tom said. “There’s nothing like night maneuvers.”
Ben and Tom talked about the different missions they’d been on. Not in details but in generalities. Talking about the men and the mishaps. The curious part of Tory that always wanted to know what everyone was thinking was in heaven.
She was half a pace behind the men and she listened to their low-voiced conversation. It gave her new insight into Ben. She heard the confidence in his voice when he talked about something that was more than a job to him.
It scared her to realize she was already beginning to care about Ben. Scared her because it could make her weak.
Weak. She let the word bounce around in her mind. Her father had always praised her for being strong. As strong as the boys. At school she’d been praised for being smart and the top in all her classes. At work she’d been praised for her daring. No one ever looked at Tory and saw what she felt every morning.
Weakness and fear that today everyone would see straight through the facade she usually wore and realize she was a fraud. That despite the hard work, she was just skating through life. Carefully keeping from having any personal relationships that were too demanding or too close.
Her closest friends were from her Athena Academy days. Her lover was on assignment away from her more often than not. Her family lived in a different state. And she knew that she liked it that way. That the distance preserved something deep inside her.
Gradually the jungle grew lighter, and finally they were able to remove their goggles. Tom was telling an amusing tale of his first mission when he’d been so eager to be out in the field that he’d stepped out of a vehicle and into a pothole, breaking his ankle. “Something always goes wrong on a mission.”
“What went wrong when you came down here?” Tory asked. She’d tried to get Tom to tell her on camera, but he’d refused, saying he hadn’t been debriefed yet.
Tom held back a low-lying branch for Tory. “I don’t know. Everything was smooth as silk. We landed early and surrounded the compound. We radioed back to HQ that we were in position and ready to move.”
“Then what happened?”
“They asked us to hold.”
“Is that odd?”
“Not really. Sometimes satellite footage reveals things that we can’t see on the ground.”
“So you were in a holding pattern?” Ben asked.
“Yeah. Finally I got the go-ahead and radioed the platoon.”
“That’s when things went to hell?”
“Yes. The only detail I remember that was unexpected was a helicopter taking off about fifteen minutes before we were given the go.”
“Did you radio in about it?”
“Yes. They said there were no other choppers in the area. Believe me, I’ve had the time to think about it and nothing adds up.”
Ben brought their group to a halt at the chain-link fence surrounding the airport runways. Tom opened his pack and started digging through it. Ben was doing the same thing.
“I wish I’d more time to talk to the locals. Maybe I’ll stay on the island when you guys leave,” Tory said.
“No, you will not,” Ben said without looking up. He took wire clippers from his bag and began working on the fence. “We aren’t sure who is the target of that search.”
“My money’s on Tom,” Tory said.
“You a gambler?” Tom asked.
“Sometimes.”
“Then don’t put your money on me. Del Torro’s government set me free.”
“But someone tried to kill you twice in one night. And Ben overheard them talking about taking you back into custody,” Tory reminded him.
“We were all in that hotel,” Tom said.
Ben stood to continue cutting the fence. Tory stood alongside him.
“Okay.”
He nodded. Tom peeled the fence open, and Tory stepped through first. Ben and Tom followed. In a crouching run, they made their way across the open field and hid behind one of the hangars.
“Which plane is ours?” Tory asked.
Ben pulled a small light from his pocket and flashed it twice. An answering flicker came from a small Piper Cub. Tom led the way to the plane, handgun drawn, eyes alert.
Ben followed behind them. Tory felt a new kind of tension settle over her. The pilot opened the door as they approached the plane.
Before they could climb inside, a bullet sped past them.
Tory flattened herself on the ground and reached for the submachine gun. Ben and Tom were already firing. She glanced at the plane and saw that the pilot was crumpled in the doorway. Please, let me remember my CPR training. She’d never taken the time to renew her training. She remembered something about making sure the airway was clear and starting rescue breathing.
She crawled to him and searched for a pulse. She couldn’t find one in his neck. She grabbed his wrist. Please, God, don’t let him be dead. But he was. The shot had hit him in the head. Dammit.
Bullets continued to be exchanged around her. She reached up and closed the pilot’s eyes. Tory looked at Ben and Tom to see if either of them was going to come over. But they were busy and Tory made her decision. She stood and climbed over the young pilot. Once on board she pulled him back into the plane.
As she leaned over, another bullet came close enough to stir her hair, embedding itself in the metal hull of the aircraft. Tory jumped over the prone man. She tugged him toward the back of the small aircraft and made her way to the cockpit.
Tom and Ben both continued firing in the direction of the assailant, covering each other. Was there more than one gunman or not? Whoever was firing was making judicious use of his bullets. Tory figured the person must be a trained sniper because only the fact that Tom, Tory and Ben weren’t presenting clear targets seemed to keep them from being shot.
Tory climbed into the pilot’s seat and looked at the instrument panel. She’d taken flying classes at Athena Academy, but it had been years since she’d flown a plane. And then she’d always had an instructor with her.
But she could do this. She glanced around the cockpit and found the button to start the engines. She shrugged out of her backpack so that she’d have more mobility.
Tom came to his feet and fired two more rounds in the direction of their enemy and ran for the plane while Ben covered him. Ben waited until Tom was firing again and retreated to the plane.
Tom went to check on the pilot. Ben jumped in but kept the door open, continuing to fire.
“Take off,” he ordered.
Tory steered them out of the hangar toward the runway. The sniper opened fire on the plane and Ben kept firing, holding him back. Tory slowly increased the thrust until the plane started to lift off. The sniper left the cover of the surrounding bush to pursue them.
Ben got off one shot and the sniper went down. The bullet hit the sniper in the chest, and Tory watched as he stumbled and fell. Only then did she notice the long, gold-blond ponytail.
The sniper was a woman. Tory didn’t know why she was surprised. But she was. It was always easier for her to believe that the bad guy was a guy.
Tory concentrated on getting the plane in the air. The aircraft banked sharply when they were in the air, and she heard Ben curse.
“Sorry.”
She glanced over her shoulder and saw both Tom and Ben lifting the pilot into a seat. Tom took the remaining seat in the back and fastened his seat belt.
Ben joined her in the cockpit. He was dirty and sweating, and there was a scrape on his jaw that was bleeding. He had two days’ worth of stubble on his face, and his expression was so fierce that she knew he’d frighten even the strongest of assailants. He was pissed off and still fighting the adrenaline from their near miss.
He holstered his gun and clenched his hands at his sides. “You’re one hell of a lady.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks. But I can’t land this thing. I barely remembered enough to get it off the ground. The pilot’s dead, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” Ben took the co pilot’s seat and took the controls. “You did one hell of a job out there.”
“Ah, it was nothing. Athena women can do anything.”
Tory let go and glanced over her shoulder. Tom had his head back and his eyes closed. There were dark circles under his eyes and a new bandage on his left arm. “Is Tom okay?”
“He took a shot in the arm. The same one that was sprained when we broke him out of the prison.” Ben was concentrating on reading the instruments. “Is there a flight plan over there?”
Tory routed around in the papers on the dash until she found the flight plan. Now that they were in the air she set the autopilot. “Want me to navigate?”
He nodded. “Let me look at it for a minute.”
She handed it to him and their fingers brushed. She shivered at little at the warmth. She’d come close to losing him. Too close, and it unnerved her.
“Are you okay?” she asked when he looked up at her.
“Fine,” he said. She reached for her water bottle and dampened the edge of her T-shirt, then leaned over and wiped the blood off his face.
His breath was warm against her skin.
Ben handed her the flight plan and Tory concentrated on navigating. But inside she was trembling. She wasn’t used to being shot at. She wasn’t used to adrenaline running through her body. She certainly wasn’t used to having people shot and killed in front of her.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. No way was she going to admit she was seconds away from breaking down. She took one deep breath and then another.
“Your hands are shaking,” he said, taking the map from her. He held her hand in his grip. His thumb rubbing over her knuckles.
“I’m not usually a target.”
“I know.”
“I’ll be glad to get back to the real world.”
“Me, too.”
Twenty-four hours later Tory was in Miami International Airport, waiting for her commercial flight to Manhattan. She hadn’t seen Ben or Tom since they’d parted company at the military base a mere four hours ago.
She’d stopped at the local affiliate station and sent her boss, Tyson Bedders, a few clips from the interview so they could start running promo spots. He was saving the opening slot on the evening news for her story. She told him her footage might be rough, but hopefully she’d have time in the edit bay to work on the piece.
Her flight to New York was a direct one and she knew she’d be cutting it close to the wire, but that was okay. This was the kind of excitement she thrived on. Not getting shot at or trekking through the jungle.
It felt so weird to be wearing new clothing and sitting in an air-conditioned airport terminal after all she’d just experienced. She couldn’t wait to get home.
Yet at the same time she was a little nervous about the conversation she needed to have with Perry. Though she and Ben probably wouldn’t see each other again, she knew it was time to end things with her producer and lover.
She had avoided calling him because she knew he’d be able to read in her voice that something wasn’t right. And she didn’t want to have that conversation while he was in one city and she in another. But the past few days had made a few things crystal clear to her, and one of them was that her relationship with Perry was a shield she used.
She hadn’t seen or heard anything from Shannon Conner, which was suspicious. Tory hoped nothing had happened to Shannon, but breathed a sigh of relief that the other woman wasn’t around.
Tory knew there would be hell to pay if her family found out she’d been in Florida and hadn’t contacted any of them. She dialed Derrick’s number. Her sister-in-law, Marie, answered. Tory liked Marie. She’d been a grade-school teacher before marrying Tory’s DEA brother. Now Marie stayed at home raising their twin boys and younger daughter, all of whom showed every sign of following in their hellion father’s footsteps.
“Hey, it’s Tory. I’m on a layover at the airport.” Tory heard nothing but quiet in the background. Since it was a Monday morning, her nephews and niece were probably at school. The boys, Harry and Joe, were nine, and little Angela was six. They were full of energy and were as curious as Tory ever was. She adored being their aunt and spoiling them.
“How long do you have?” Marie asked. “I can drive down and have a cup of coffee with you.”
/> “I don’t have enough time—just an hour.”
“Timed it perfectly, huh? Well, Derrick’s at work so you won’t have to talk to him,” Marie said with a laugh.
“Actually I wanted to ask him some questions about the coca-leaf farmers in Puerto Isla.”
“I can have him call you when he gets home.”
“Good idea. Give those rascal nephews and little angel niece of mine a kiss for me. Bye.”
Tory hung up and put her phone away. She pulled the Times from her carry-on bag and scanned the headlines. Not too much going on. A few rumblings about the next presidential campaign and a small article about Puerto Isla and how they were trying to entice businesses there.
Good luck. Businesses would take one look at that place and back away fast. Unless something could be done with the drug lords who, as far as Tory had observed, were still a problem there.
She folded up the Times and took out the Miami Herald. On the society page, she saw Ben’s picture. It had been taken at yet another charity event the day before. He again had a lovely blonde on each arm and was grinning at the camera. Tory was a little surprised. Okay, frankly perplexed. How the heck could Ben have been there when he’d definitely been on that plane with her yesterday?
“Hey.”
Tory glanced up from under her lashes. Ben Forsythe was leaning against one of the poles in the waiting area.
She wasn’t the only one who’d had time to change. Ben had shaved and now wore an Italian silk suit. His hair was perfectly styled, and he had on that sexy but vague grin of his.
Tory raised one eyebrow at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I just finished judging a beauty contest for charity. You know how it is.”
“Ah, the life of the playboy. Actually I don’t know how it is.”
“It’s a tough job but someone has to do it.”
He sat down next to her and leaned closer. “You look tired.”
She didn’t smile at him, but she wanted to. “I am. You don’t.”
