Danger Zone: Tales of Military Passion

by Marie Harte

  He let Stick shepherd everyone inside before he entered the bunkhouse. There was very little conversation. They all seemed to have silent signals as to where they’d sleep and where the stuff would be stowed.

  Two of the team members immediately lifted some of the hard-sided cases to one of the wide tables and began opening them. Mason leaned against one of the bunks, studying the equipment as each piece was taken out. Soon, one end of the table held a variety of weapons. He had no idea what the other equipment was, but figured they’d tell him soon enough.

  Kris tossed her duffel onto one of the top bunks then turned her attention to the table. Lifting one of the handguns, she expertly checked it, loaded a clip, and slid it into place then shoved the gun into the back of her jeans. Mason noticed the others doing the same, each selecting whatever weapon he preferred. When the sidearms had been distributed, two of the team members began checking and loading the others, while the rest of the team went back to the nonlethal equipment. They seemed to have forgotten he was there.

  “Okay, then.” Kris stood with her hands on her hips, eyeballing the array of paraphernalia “I think we’re set to sit down and discuss this. Do you have others you need to bring into the meeting?”

  “My foreman, Greg Ruiz.”

  “I’ll get him.” Stick headed toward the door. “He’s in the barn. I saw him when we pulled up in the truck.”

  Kris nodded. “We have aerial maps but if you have the surveys the county appraisal district uses, those would be a help, also.”

  “Yeah, I mentioned that to Hollister. Let me run up to the house while Stick gets Greg.”

  “I GUESS WE’RE ready,” Kris said when Mason returned with the maps and dropped into an empty chair. “Let’s get all the intros out of the way first.” She looked at Stick and Greg. “I’m the designated team leader as well as the chopper pilot. In case you’re wondering about my qualifications, I’ve been flying choppers since I was sixteen and spent six years in the Army doing exactly that. I spent my last year as a Nightstalker, an Army special operations force, flying attack, assault, and recon missions. I flew at high speeds, low altitudes, and on short notice.”

  “And did a damn good job,” one of the men said. “From what Seth told us, anyway, when you came on board. And have more than earned your slot since then”

  “Thanks. I’ve known Seth for a few years, and when I decided to get back to civilian life, he was kind enough to give me a job.” She narrowed her eyes, staring hard at Mason as if sending him a direct message. Don’t mention our night together. At all. “I’m qualified as an expert with both handguns and semi-automatics, as is each member of the team. Okay, let’s hear from the rest of you.”

  They went around the group, each giving his own intro. Mason noted they were a mixture of the various branches of the military, everything from Army Rangers to Marines to Delta Force. They were hardened warriors who had seen more than their share of combat and survived. Now they were using those skills on civilian missions. Not one of them was someone he’d want to tangle with on a dark night or any other kind. Finally, Stick and Greg introduced themselves.

  Kris shifted her attention back to Mason. “We’ve been briefed on your situation, but I’d like to hear it from you. I’m sure Seth didn’t miss any details, but I like to get my information direct from the client.”

  “Fine. Here’s the problem.”

  In concise sentences, he told her about the signs of intrusion he and his men had found onto the land. About the cut wire. About the signs in the landscape of people moving through it. About his two men who were shot at night when they’d tried to patrol the area themselves.

  Kris nodded. “According to the border security, the coyotes and drug cartels are partnering and searching for less obvious, more remote spots to cross. Looking at the aerial maps, the Double R appears to be an ideal location for them.”

  “Yeah.” Stick snorted. “Just our luck.”

  “We’re here to make sure it stops. Keep in mind, they may move to another location, but at least we can secure this ranch.”

  “That’s all I’m asking,” Mason told her.

  “Lane?” Kris shifted her gaze to a lanky redhead who was checking over what appeared to be a padded box of large metal marbles. “Turn on the monitor for those, and let’s see if we can light it up.”

  Lane opened a laptop computer and booted it up, typing in some commands. Then, one by one, he rolled each of the metal objects in his hands as if testing them, watching the laptop and nodding in satisfaction when he was finished.

  “We’re hot,” he told Kris.

  “The Border Patrol uses these to track illegals,” Kris explained, “but ours are a little more sophisticated. They have a longer range, plus they are moved more easily.” She nodded at the redhead. “Lane, you want to explain?”

  He nodded. “Once we go over the maps with you, we’ll place these strategically from the edge of your property inward. If anyone cuts through an area where we put them, this monitor will light up, and Kris will head out with some of us in the chopper.”

  “Others will go on horseback,” Kris added. She arched a brow at Mason. “Seth said you had a couple of horses we could use.”

  “I do, but—”

  “Two of my men are experienced riders,” she assured him. “One is a former mounted cop from New York and the other came from a ranch in Montana.”

  “Whenever you’re ready I’ll show you which ones are available and you can make your selection.”

  He had an instant vision of Kris on horseback. With him. Seated in front of him in the saddle, her sweet little ass tucked up against his hard shaft, rubbing it as the horse trotted along. And if he didn’t quit with those thoughts, he’d be in big trouble. He shifted in his chair, trying to ease the pressure in his jeans.

  “Okay.” Kris gave him a narrowed-eyed stare again. “Your turn.”

  Mason unrolled the drawings he was holding. These people were all business, and they couldn’t get started a minute too soon for him. He smoothed his hand over one of the maps, pressing down the corners.

  “The Double R Ranch covers ten thousand acres and borders with Mexico here.” He drew a line with his forefinger. “The Rio Grande is narrow enough to row across in minutes at that point, and certainly you can wade or swim it without a problem.” He traced another line. “We spent a fortune installing barbed wire strategically enough to discourage people. We thought. But they just cut it. We fix it, and they move to another section.”

  “It takes more than fencing to discourage these people,” Kris commented.

  He snorted. “Tell me about it. The only really secure area is the quadrant we leased to a company drilling for natural gas. That company keeps a guard posted twenty-four/seven.”

  Kris bent over the map again. “Show me where the illegals have been through already. And the area where your two hands were killed.”

  They kept at it for more than an hour, going over details until everyone in the room had memorized what was on both the appraisal maps and the aerial ones.

  “All right.” Kris looked at each of them. “This is good but we need to see this from the air. Eyeball it ourselves. Get pictures of it so we can come back here and study the best places to locate the sensors. Mason, I’ll need you up in the chopper with us.”

  “Me?” Shit. Did that sound stupid or what? Of course, him.

  “You have a problem with that?” She tilted her sunglasses down and peered at him over the top. “Get airsick or something?”

  He shook his head. If she could act as if they’d never met, so could he. “Not me. Let’s go.”

  “Bring those maps with you.”

  He sensed everyone on the team watching him as he followed Kris out to the chopper. Did his expression give away anything he felt? He hoped not. A former Ranger, he considered himself well-schooled in personal discipline. But, shit! The minute he laid eyes on the woman, every detail of that long-ago night flooded back, and he couldn�
��t wipe any of it away.

  Better get hold of yourself, idiot. You have more important business here than satisfying your cock.

  Kris walked around the helo to do her preflight check before climbing in. Mason waited until the rest of the team had hauled themselves easily into the cabin of the chopper then boosted himself in after them. He reached to close the door, but one of the men stopped him.

  “Leave it,” he told Mason. “We need it open for observation.”

  “I saved the copilot seat for you, Rowell.” Kris indicated the seat next to her. “Come on. I’ve got a set of headphones and a mic for you, too. You’ll need to feed me info along the way.”

  It amazed him she could be all business here, act as if nothing had ever happened between them. He couldn’t find any logical reason to object, especially since it was his ranch they were flying over, and he had the information she wanted. But, damn! Sitting this near to her would certainly test his personal discipline, and she had to know it. Maybe she was getting revenge, but he wasn’t sure for what.

  Or maybe she wanted him close to her for some reason? Did she feel that hot something between them the way he did?

  “Don’t get too excited,” she chided. “I almost always have the client fly with me. Where better to get answers to questions.”

  Of course. Get your head of out of your ass, dickwad.

  He had barely buckled himself in and adjusted the headset when the rotor blades began their whine, picking up speed, and the helo lifted off the ground. He had to give it to the woman; she was a damn fine pilot. He’d flown in choppers before with good pilots, even some great ones, but almost none who flew as easily and effortlessly as Kris Gauthier.

  He watched her, so relaxed at the controls, but obviously alert, confident of every movement. Inhaling a deep breath, his nostrils flared as, over the smell of leather and metal in the cockpit, he caught a light, distinctly feminine, floral scent. He shifted slightly in his seat, adjusting his jeans as unobtrusively as possible. If she had this kind of effect on him just by being in close proximity, he was going to have a fucking battle with himself until this mission was completed.

  “Rowell.”

  Her voice sounded through the headphones.

  “Yeah. Here. Nice flying job, by the way.”

  “Thanks. That’s part of what I get paid for. How about unrolling the map with the markings on it, so I can orient myself. Doug Richmond’s got a video camera in the cabin, and Ted will be taking stills so we can review the area once we get back to the ranch.”

  Mason smoothed the smaller of the maps across his thighs. Leaning forward slightly, he peered through the cockpit window.

  “That’s a pretty big spread you have out there,” Kris commented.

  “Ten thousand acres. But less than half of it is used for ranching.”

  She glanced briefly at him. “How come? Doesn’t that leave a lot of it going to waste?”

  “Not all of it is arable. We use the best parts for raising cattle and growing hay. The part that abuts Eagle Shale is leased for natural gas drilling. The rest of it is just as nature created—flat, rolling terrain with natural grasses, mesquite, thorny shrubs, and cacti.”

  “And that’s the area the smugglers are coming through,” she guessed.

  “Right. It’s only recently, with all the border problems and the immigration boondoggle, that we’ve had to worry about it. The barbed wire and the landscape itself kept people out before.”

  “But someone’s decided to use it for that very reason, right? Because they don’t think anyone will search for them there.”

  “Exactly.”

  The helicopter took a slight dip as they passed over the sections with cattle milling about and the fields with hay waiting to be cut.

  “How big is your herd?”

  “At this moment, about four thousand.”

  Again, she slid him a glance. “Pretty big herd, or am I wrong?”

  “No, you’re right. It’s above average. But it’s taken us four generations to build it up, and it’s a lot of hard work to maintain it.”

  She was silent for a moment as she lifted them higher again. “I guess I’m surprised by the scope of it, that’s all.”

  He wanted to ask her if she’d thought he was nothing but some scrub cowboy with a scrawny herd who was wasting their time, but he bit back the question. Seth had no doubt given them a complete briefing, but he had to admit, seeing it with his own eyes was a little different from hearing about it.

  They had left the drilling site behind when Mason touched her arm.

  “There.” He indicated a spot on the map. “Down there where you can see stands of scrub trees and all those thorny bushes. That’s the run up to the border. If you can go low enough, you can even see where some of the ground has been trampled.”

  She moved the controls with practiced ease, bringing them low enough so her guys could get their still shots and video.

  “Do you know how to mark our flight path on that map?” Kris asked.

  He wanted to tell her he’d done it enough times during roundup, when they used a helicopter to help drive the cattle, but he held his silence. No sense antagonizing her or acting like an asshole.

  Not yet, anyway.

  She banked the chopper slightly. “I’m going to take us along the border, one sweep, end to end, then back again. Then I’ll fly a little lower so the guys can get better shots of any evidence of people.” She thumbed a switch on the flight stick to switch to the channel everyone was on. “Be sure you get all of this, guys,” she told them.

  Mason shifted slightly in his seat and saw two of the men seated with their legs hanging over the edge of the floor, capturing everything on video and stills.

  He turned back to Kris. “Aren’t they afraid they’ll fall out?”

  Her full lips curved in a smile. “Not with my excellent flying skills.” Then she sobered. “Besides, we’ve done this enough times, they know what to do. Okay, I’m going to fly over the key area a couple more times. Then we’ll head back to the ranch.”

  It was close to six o’clock by the time they landed. Mason watched in admiration as she went through the shut-down procedure, cooling the engine and flipping the switches on the control panel while the men jumped down from the cabin, taking care with their gear. Then he followed Kris out of the cockpit.

  “What are you doing?” He watched with curiosity as she went through the last of her post flight routine.

  “Fastening the rotor to the tailboom so it doesn’t spin freely. And these little fabric sleeves are guards to prevent bugs from getting in the pitot and pressure tubes.”

  He stared at her. “What?”

  She burst out laughing. “More than you anted to know, right?”

  “Nope.” He smiled. “Always happy to learn something new. Listen. I let Seth know I’d be feeding you. There’s a big dining room in the ranch house where we feed the hands. If you don’t mind joining them…?”

  “That’s not necessary. I’m sure we can find a place to eat if you can lend us a vehicle. We do that sometimes.” She busied herself looking at her laminated checklist now, not looking at him.

  He closed his fingers over one slender wrist, and she turned to face him. He wished her damn sunglasses didn’t hide her eyes.

  “In case you didn’t notice, the Double R is a long way from anywhere. Shelton’s the closest town, and it’s thirty minutes away.”

  “You like your isolation.” Her voice had a slight edge to it.

  “I get plenty of company here on the ranch. Anyway, we’re just discussing meal situations. Seth negotiated it, and I was more than happy to agree. Dinner will be in an hour.”

  He unbuckled his harness and eased out of the seat, moving toward the cabin so he could get out.

  “Mason?” Kris touched his arm.

  “Yes?” He paused.

  “I…thank you. We appreciate the meals.”

  He gave a brief nod. “No problem.”

/>   He dropped down to the ground to join the others where Stick waited with the truck. His arm, where she’d touched it, burned and tingled, sending messages to his hungry cock. He had no idea how he was going to get through this whole thing, and today was only the first day.

  Chapter Two

  ‡

  THEY HAD FINISHED reviewing the video they’d shot and checking their still shots against it one more time when Kris called a halt for the night.

  “I think we’ve got everything burned into our brains,” she told her team. “We’ll go out again tomorrow. This time, two of you will be on horseback. Lane, you’ll ride in the chopper with your sophisticated laptop. We’ll drop some sensors and see what kind of reading you get, checking out the area from the ground at the same time.”

  Everyone nodded and made noises of agreement.

  Kris pulled a hoodie from her duffel, zipped up the jacket back up, and tossed it up on her bunk.

  Lane was at the table where he was back to working at his laptop. “Going somewhere?” he asked when she moved past him.

  “Out for some air.” She shrugged into the hoodie and tugged up the zipper. “Need to stretch my legs a little.”

  “Okay. I should have the map set up in here by the time you get back. In the morning, we can discuss where we’re going to place the sensors first. And get Jed and Rich some horses, since they’re the ones who’ll be doing the riding.”

  “Sure, no problem.” She reached to open the door.

  “Kris?” Lane called.

  “Yeah?”

  “Not that it’s any of my business, but things seemed a little tense with you and Rowell. Anything I should know about?”

  “Nothing at all.”

  He shrugged. “If you say so.”

  “I do.” She yanked the door open. “I’ll be back inside in a little bit.”

  The October day had been warm, but with the setting of the sun, there was a little chill in the Texas Hill Country air. Kris shoved her hands in her pockets as she walked away from the bunkhouse, taking a deep breath of the night air. The scent of hay, horses, and cattle drifted on the breeze. From the stable, she could hear horses softly nickering and, in the distance, the sound of cattle lowing.