by Becky McGraw
“She died doing what she thought she had to do to impress your father,” Hawk hissed under his breath. “Because you seemed to have the market cornered on his affection.”
“That is not my fault. I didn’t tell her to join the military—in fact, I tried to talk her out of it,” Max said, his shoulders stiffening. “Dad is a tough nut, but he’d have loved her—”
“He doesn’t love anyone but himself or care about anything other than what other people think of him,” Hawk corrected gruffly.
“You’re right,” Max replied with a sigh. “The fact he isn’t here right now, tells me that.”
“Where in the fuck is he? He can’t even show her respect in death? You’d think he’d at least be here soaking up the condolences for attention. Or is that your job?” Hawk asked, his jaw clenched.
Above the collar of his dress uniform Max’s face flushed crimson, making his red hair appear to be flames. A roar rumbled in his chest and he lunged at Hawk, jostling Maddie’s photo on the easel. He spun to catch it and put it back in place, then turned to glare at Hawk.
“The General is an asshole, who I just don’t understand most of the time. But he did come here an hour ago for an in and out, before he went back to base. I’m here to grieve my little sister’s death because I loved her,” he growled, his eyes filling.
“I’m sorry—that was uncalled for,” Hawk said, holding up his hands. Maybe this guy really did care about her. “It just amazes me he doesn’t—didn’t support her more.”
“He didn’t—he rode her like a rented mule and whipped her harder and harder to do more. This is the result and I will never forgive him for that. I’m glad he’s not here, because this might turn into a main event, ending with me in a court martial.”
“I’m glad he’s not here, too. For the same reason,” Hawk said, huffing out a breath.
“I took a thirty-day bereavement leave to think about some things. I may make it permanent,” Max informed, his eyes sliding to Maddie’s photo then back to Hawk. “Four years at West Point, three as a Beret and now nine with Delta is enough.”
That was another reason they were here today. Maddie had been competing with this man all her life, so it was partly his fault too. Him seeming to brag about those accomplishments at her funeral sent Hawk’s anger back to code red.
“Yeah, you don’t have to list your accomplishments to me, bud,” Hawk snarled, his nostrils flaring. “Your sister has…” He swallowed hard. “Had your resume memorized. That is why she was so set on joining the Nightstalkers.”
Max’s hand shot out to grab Hawk’s arm, but he shook him off and stepped back. He took a step forward to put his nose very close to Hawk’s.
“You don’t think my father was hard on me too? Harder even than he was on Maddie?” he asked, his voice rising an octave. “If you think otherwise, you’re mistaken. West Point was not a cake walk, I assure you.”
Hawk thought about that a moment and took his obvious agitation into consideration. He’d never thought about the pressure the General must’ve put on his son too. He was probably right—it had to be ten times worse than what he’d put on his daughter.
“Why are you signing out then? You’ve accomplished what he expected of you, right?” Maddie never would, because she died trying. But this guy was high enough in the chain of command, a Lt. Colonel, to write his own ticket to retirement pretty much.
“If I stayed in until I was seventy and became the Secretary of the Army, I would never meet the General’s expectations. I realize that now and am ready to be off the hamster wheel. Maddie’s death drove that home to me.” The word death seemed to lodge in his throat and his eyes filled. He choked out the words then turned his back to Hawk and his shoulders tensed as he scrubbed a hand over his face.
Maybe Hawk was being too hard on the guy, he thought, stepping forward to put his hand on Max’s shoulder. He had the same upbringing by the General that Maddie had. It could be he had been driven just as hard as she had. Maddie thought everything came easy to Max, but Hawk realized now he just worked his ass off, because his father commanded it.
“I’m sorry for being an asshole, Max. I know you cared about her too.” Hawk dragged in a shuddering breath. “I’m just totally pissed off at the waste…and for what?”
Max turned and gave Hawk a quick man hug, then stepped back. “I hope she knew that too,” he said, swiping at his eyes with his fingers. “That’s what I’m most afraid of—that my little sister died thinking I didn’t care.”
“She knew you loved her,” Hawk said, not really knowing if that was true. The only time Maddie mentioned her brother was to relate some new medal or accomplishment and how her father had reacted. “I know she idolized you.” That was the perfect truth.
“I’m going to Jenson’s memorial tomorrow,” someone behind Hawk said. “It’s weird they didn’t find the aircraft or her body, huh?”
“Gordon and Fields said she was dead, no pulse, and her face was messed up pretty bad, or they’d have carried her out. They took fire, so they had to get out of there.”
“I hope CSAR goes back to look again. If one of the cartels took the helo, why in the hell wouldn’t they just leave her body there? They left Jenson and Smith.”
Why indeed? Hawk thought, glancing at Max, whose eyes were narrowed too.
Chapter 2
Hawk’s body jerked violently and he sat straight up sweating like he’d run a mile. His jaws hurt from clenching his teeth, his throat was raw from his ragged breaths and probably screaming. His heart beat so fast he felt like he was having a heart attack, so he reached up to rub his sternum.
“Man, dude—what in the hell is wrong with you?” Levi asked, leaning over the edge of the upper bunk to look at him. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Bad dream,” Hawk replied through clenched teeth. He’d never had a worse one, even when he was in the bowels of hell on a short tour for a mission in the Middle East.
In this dream, he’d just relived the crash he read about in the incident report Max gave him yesterday. He felt Maddie’s fear as she called Mayday, fought with her to regain control of the Little Bird before it slammed into the ground. He saw her bloodied and ravaged face as she lay slumped in the cockpit and he wanted to die with her when he found no pulse in her throat. But she opened her eyes and looked at him through that blood and asked him to help her.
Sucking in ragged breaths Hawk rubbed his sternum, trying to calm his out of control heart, while he fought to keep down the bile that surged up to choke him. For the last six months, Maddie had been alive in his dreams. His mind refused to let her die. Last night had been his most vivid dream, though. One he never wanted to have again.
According to the report, CSAR searched twice for the aircraft by air, sent teams into the jungle to recover her body, but they found nothing except spilled fuel, a few metal scraps and glass at the impact zone. They called off the search after that because they had other priorities. Maddie was dead to them, but she wouldn’t be dead to him until he found her body.
Bodies did not just disappear, even one as amazing as hers, and neither did helicopters. If one of the cartels took the helo, why in the hell wouldn’t they just leave her body there? They’d left Jenson and Smith.
That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, one that had been haunting him, distracting him and driving him insane since the funeral. He could not go on like this, because his distraction was putting himself and his team in danger.
A distracted pilot was a dead pilot.
The thing that stuck in his mind after reading the report was the fact the operators, who said she had no pulse, were not trained medics. They’d survived, made a quick assessment in the heat of the moment and bugged out when they came under fire. From who? A cartel who could have not only salvaged the aircraft, but who could be holding her prisoner.
If that were the case, he almost hoped she was dead. There were things those monsters could do to her that would be worse t
han death. They trafficked humans as well as drugs through the mountains and jungles to fund their operation.
It was insane, probably a suicide mission, but he had to go to Guatemala to find her or her body because he knew he couldn’t live like this. The odds of him just getting over this feeling in another six months, or even six years, were nil. The longer he thought, wondered and worried would only make it worse.
His hands shook as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and reached down to grab his flight suit to find his phone. He wasn’t going into this alone, and he knew the one man who could help him. He dialed Max Carter’s number and huffed a breath.
“What in the ever-loving hell do you want at three in the morning?!?” Max grumbled when he answered.
“I need to go to Guatemala and find her,” Hawk replied, swallowing hard.
“She’s dead, Hawkins,” Max said, his voice firm but sympathetic. “I know that’s tough to accept. I’m having a hard time with it too—but even if she was alive after the crash, she’s been out in that jungle hurt for six months, so she’s dead now.” He huffed a breath. “I knew I shouldn’t have given you that report.”
“Bodies don’t disappear,” Hawk replied, shoring up his determination.
“No, but two men who are foolish enough to go there in the middle of cartel turf wars do. It would be stupid of us to traipse into that hell to recover a body,” Max shot back.
“She could be alive and held captive by a cartel. Those operators who said she was dead aren’t trained medics. She could be MIA instead of KIA. Doesn’t that thought make your blood run cold?” Hawk knew it sure made his icy with fear.
“Why are you calling me in the middle of the night to drag me into your fantasy world?” Max asked with a groan. “I’m out of the secret mission business as soon as my last day of terminal leave is up. I’m fantasizing of opening a beach bar in Tahiti, not going to Guatemala.”
“I’m calling because you are the only other person on this earth who cared—cares about her. Show it and come with me.”
“Fuck me,” Levi groaned from the upper bunk. “I’m going too—and Caleb will probably want to go. Someone needs to be there to save your stupid ass.”
“No—this is my problem,” Hawk replied. “Logan needs you here for assignments.”
“If this is your problem, why the hell are you bothering me?” Max asked, and Hawk pulled the phone away from his ear to glare at it.
“Logan needs you here for assignments too,” Levi shot back. “Without you and the bird, we’re grounded anyway.”
“I’m not taking the bird,” Hawk informed. He’d come up with a plan that stretched his savings account to the max, but he could pull it off. If they found her pretty quickly.
“What? Are you walking to Guatemala?” Levi asked with a snide laugh.
“No, I’m leasing a helo,” Hawk growled, rolling his eyes as he put the phone back to his ear. “I’ll meet you at the hangar at Falcon Field at ten o’clock.”
Mickie’s brother Dante was a former Black Hawk pilot, and unemployed since the FBI terminated him, so he’d ask him to fill in while he was gone. That could be a while, because Hawk was not leaving Guatemala without Maddie, or her body.
“I didn’t say I was going with you,” Max said.
“You didn’t say you weren’t going with me, either,” Hawk shot back. “And if you don’t, you’ll be living with my death, along with your sister’s, for the rest of your life.”
“What makes you think I would care one way or another if you got yourself killed?” Max asked gruffly. “You can’t save stupid.”
“But you’ve tried enough times that the left-hand side of your uniform is ten times heavier than the right.” He’d heard about that for years from Maddie, but saw the medals for himself on the man’s dress blues at the funeral.
Max sighed. “Yes, I’m the Stupid Asshole Rescue Specialist, so I guess I’m going.”
“Good, I’ll meet you at the hangar at ten.” Hawk hung up the phone and his insides felt lighter than they had in six months.
I’m coming to find you, baby.
Chapter 3
“You are not going to Guatemala without backup,” Logan growled, leaning forward to fist his hands together on his desk. “That is not how we work here and you know it, Hawkins. I’m just glad you finally told someone what in the hell has been wrong with you, dumbass.”
“I’m not going alone. Maddie’s brother Max is going with me,” Hawk replied, shooting a glare at Levi, who wore a smug smile as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded.
“You’re not going without Levi and Caleb. Two men in that cartel ratpile of a country is not enough,” Logan said firmly. “Trust me. I’ve been there, so I know.”
“The helo I rented is a two-seater. It’s all they had available, so there’s not enough room,” Hawk replied, gripping the armrests of his chair.
The small helicopter was also the only thing within his budget both lease-wise and fuel-wise. After he hung up with Max, he mapped out a flight plan, checked out the available aircraft and calculated his fuel costs. He did not need this argument right now, he needed to be in the air, or he was going to be late picking up Max. If Levi had just kept his damned mouth shut and minded his own business, he could have left forty-five minutes ago.
“Our bird will seat seven, so you’re taking it, and that’s final,” Logan said.
“I can’t afford the fuel, Logan,” Hawk grated through his teeth.
“Use the credit card for fuel and you can just reimburse me later.”
Later, as in a hundred years? There was more to consider than fuel. The airtime hours he’d put on the engine would mean more maintenance. If something happened to the bird on the trip, it could be a hundred years before he could pay him back. Hawk wasn’t taking a vacation, he was flying to a third-world country.
“I’m not taking your helo, Dave. It’s bulky and clunky. I need stealth and speed,” Hawk said, thrumming his fingers on the arm of his chair as his frustration mounted.
“You are taking it, or I’ll have Dante follow you in it. It has a higher fuel capacity and range, so you’ll get there quicker and safer. Besides, you’ll have more wiggle room on weight for the gear you’ll need.”
“Gear?” Hawk repeated, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. The only gear he and Max planned on taking were automatic rifles, pistols a vest full of rounds and provisions that would fit in a rucksack.
“Yeah, Caleb’s sniper rifle, body armor and our heavier artillery and ammo. Grenade launchers wouldn’t be out of the question there. Those cartels are well-armed. You don’t want to be outgunned if shit hits the fan.”
“Oh, Dio! What in the world are you arguing about? I can’t even hear myself think in the front office, much less talk to clients. You sound like my brothers!” Mickie said, stepping into the doorway with her hands on her hips.
“Speaking of your brother—he’s in town, right?” Logan asked, and Hawk groaned.
“If you’re talking about Dante, yes, he is staying with us and I’m about to kill him,” Mickie replied with a dramatic sigh. “You need to find him a mission in Timbuktu or something, so Gray and I can have some peace. Why?”
“It looks like he’s going to Guatemala, instead of Timbuktu,” Logan replied, his stare daring Hawk to argue. “A second pilot and another gun will be added insurance that my helo and the team makes it back home in one piece.” Logan’s eyes turned glassy. “You’ll, ah, need a second pilot anyway, if you don’t find her alive.”
Hawk’s stomach clenched. That was a possibility he tried to forget, but Logan was right. If they found her body, he would be a wreck…definitely not in the right state of mind to fly home.
“What’s going on?” Slade asked as he walked into Logan’s office. Lola stopped beside Mickie in the doorway to get a scratch between her ears.
“Are you available for a SAR mission?” Logan asked.
Hawk groaned and g
ave up any hope of this being a quiet in-and-out mission. Standing, he pulled out his phone and texted Max to tell him he’d be late, then put it back in his pocket.
“I need to recalculate my fuel and stops. You guys load the bird.” He pointed at Logan, whose eyebrows shot up. “I’m using your credit card, but I won’t be paying you back. The amount of fuel this will take is going to be astronomical. Remember, this is your bright idea too, so if your helo gets trashed, it’s your fault. I won’t be paying for repairs either.”
“Roger that—but you better not trash my helo,” Logan growled, swallowing hard. “How long will you be gone?”
“As long as it takes to find her,” Hawk replied, giving him a grin. “Since you’re sending all of your men except Mac with me, I guess that means you’re out of business indefinitely.”
“What are we, chopped liver?” Taylor asked, stopping beside Mickie in the doorway. The two women could almost be sisters in looks and in attitude. “The Deep Six women will be available for duty, if needed.”
“On second thought, Slade, you’re staying here,” Logan said, as his eyes locked with Taylor’s. “I’m not the man to remind this one she’s pregnant. I’ve already had my rodeo with Susan. It’s your turn, buddy.”
A loud woof! preceded Taylor’s yellow lab Buddy crashing between the two women’s knees. He leapt up to put his paws on Logan’s desk and took a wet swipe across his knuckles. Lola barked as if reprimanding her sidekick, and he left a trail of slobber on the desk as he retreated and sat down beside her.
“Get a rag and clean this slobber off of my desk now, Taylor,” Logan said in a low and lethal tone as he held Buddy’s gaze.
“Don’t look at him that way,” Taylor hissed as she stepped in front of Buddy to fold her arms and glare at Logan.
“I’ve got this,” Slade said, putting his arm around Taylor’s shoulders to pull her into his side. He bent to take hold of Buddy’s collar with the other hand. Logan opened his mouth, but Slade shook his head. “Don’t push it—the hormones are strong with this one.”
