Danger Zone: Tales of Military Passion

by Marie Harte

  Catori stood and reached for her sunglasses, allowing her hair to fall around her face. Before she could slip them on, she saw that Trigger was shaking his head. Did that mean he was turning her down? In all honesty, she hadn’t once considered that anyone on the list that Crest had given her would pass up a chance to get back into the game. All the info on the men suggested they were hungry for more than what the civilian world could offer. She was their chance.

  “Well then, I appreciate your time.” Catori wasn’t a woman to negotiate and she wasn’t about to change her position on that topic now. She hadn’t lied. Trigger would have made a nice addition to those men she had in mind, but there were other men out there with his skills. She’d have to search a little harder. “Good luck, Trigger.”

  “Starr, I wasn’t implying that I wouldn’t take the job.” Trigger stood, waving his hand toward the door. She turned to see Diesel sitting a foot away, his head cocked to the side and watching their exchange. “You mentioned you stopped in town. I don’t know if you heard, but the owner of this place passed away last week. Mac was like an uncle to me growing up, and when I came back to recuperate, work around the garage gave me something to do. Mac left me the place, along with Diesel.”

  Catori smothered a curse and slipped on her sunglasses. A dog? It wasn’t like Diesel had military training. She turned back around, catching Trigger doing some type of hand motion. He shrugged and smiled, trying to win her over with that Southern charm. It wasn’t going to work. Didn’t he know that she’d dealt with hundreds of men like him?

  “Well, I guess you have your work cut out for you during the next month with selling this place and finding a home for Diesel,” Catori stated, making herself clear. “If you accept the position, I’ll expect you to report the first of August at the address listed in the email. You’ll meet your lead operator and the rest of the team on that date.”

  “That gives me two months to train Diesel,” Trigger said, pushing his luck, and from the look in his brown eyes he knew it. Begrudgingly she respected a man who knew what he wanted and went after it. That still didn’t mean he would get his way. “Starr, he’s only two years old. I can get it done and he’ll be an asset.”

  “Find him a home, Trigger.”

  Catori left the office and chose to go out the front door. She flipped the deadbolt and exited, ignoring Diesel’s brown eyes. Red had once tried to talk her into getting a canine for their team but she’d adamantly refused. It wasn’t cost effective and damned if she’d get too close to an animal that loved so unconditionally. Growing up on a reservation had taught her that. Events happened where people couldn’t protect nature and watching it become destroyed was devastating.

  “I’ll make you a bet, Starr,” Trigger called out from the doorway. Catori had her hand on the handle when he’d challenged her. The smart thing would have been to get in her convertible and drive away. Then again, her competitive side came to the forefront and she found herself turning to face him. “If in two months I can get Diesel certified, he comes with me.”

  “And if you can’t?” Catori leaned against the hot surface of her car, crossing her arms as if she had all the time in the world. She could play poker with the best of them. “I don’t make bets if there’s nothing in it for me, Trigger. And seeing as I know for a fact it takes over a year of basic training with continuous guidance thereafter, the odds are on my side.”

  “If I lose, I’ll foot the bill for the first weekend bender by the team.”

  “Shit, not good enough. They can pay for their own booze,” Catori said, pushing herself off of the vehicle and finally getting situated in the driver’s side seat. She pressed the control on the console, not needing a key as the vehicle used a push button ignition. She put her car in reverse and pulled out, shifting back into drive but keeping her foot on the brake. Trigger still stood in the doorway, Diesel by his side. The damn dog looked at her like she’d stolen his only bone. “Two months. If you lose, the entire team paints the new warehouse I purchased for our home base. You can explain the reason their weekends in August are spent on a ladder with a paintbrush.”

  “Challenge accepted.” Trigger flashed a smile that shined through the grease on his chin and cheek. His hand rested on Diesel’s head. Damn if she didn’t like him already—Trigger, that was. “We’ll see you in August, boss.”

  Catori shook her head, refusing to let the man see her smile. After she hired her lead operator, she’d lean back and watch them be put through their paces. It would be nice to witness the men comprehend that she was the leader Red had always relied on her to be. Thinking it and knowing it were two separate things. She put her foot on the gas pedal and sped down the deserted road toward her next encounter.

  Chapter Six

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  IT HAD TAKEN Catori most of the morning to track down Neal “Doc” Bauer. She’d spent the evening going over the notes and making a list of additional contacts that Red Starr HRT would need in specific embassies. Most of her previous official state department contacts had rotated back to the CONUS—two years was an eternity to be out of the game. The majority of assignments that the federal government wouldn’t take were overseas, so it was essential to have reliable associates in key locations. That was also the reason for the Promised Land—the ability to park a mobile operating base outside the territorial waters of a hostile country negated the need to transport her team via commercial airlines or slip past corrupt border guards.

  The redesigned APD allowed for the midline storage/launch of four eleven meter Naval Special Warfare (NSW) Rigid Hull Inflatable Boats, deployed via an improved articulated boom system that Red had designed himself. In addition to the RHIBs, the refit included the addition of an aft hangar bay facility and a one hundred foot long helo pad for their MH-60S Knighthawk Medium Lift Helicopter. The hangar bay retracted to a twenty-five foot maintenance bay during normal flight operations and expanded to cover an additional twenty-five feet of the flight deck when the Knighthawk was folded and stowed for heavy weather. There were those occasional domestic jobs that didn’t require such massive logistical support, but those usually consisted of cults who brainwashed vulnerable people or cases of a similar nature. Either home or abroad, a good communications specialist was vital. Add on the fact that the man she was here in Missouri to see had extensive field medical training and it was a twofer.

  “Can I help you, miss?” an elderly gentleman asked. He was wearing a fishing hat with colorful lures hanging on all sides while he maneuvered uphill on the last bit of a dirt path that Catori was certain led away from where the fishing would be. “You seem a little lost.”

  It appeared to be the question of the week. Catori smiled her appreciation at his offer to help but shook her head. She was wearing jeans. Granted, the shirt she had on wasn’t exactly what one would dress out to wet a line. It was a white button-down blouse tapered at the sides. She owned quite a few since they fit so well underneath her jackets. The elderly man didn’t blink twice at the weapon on her hip, most likely thinking she was law enforcement.

  “I’m just waiting on someone.” Catori pushed up her sunglasses and slid them into her hair, mostly to keep the long strands from blowing into her face. A storm front was moving in, and if the dark clouds to the west were any indication it was going to be a big one. “Thank you, though.”

  Before the older man could ask whom she was meeting, because that was undoubtedly the question on his mind, the sound of a boat’s motor could be heard chopping through the water. The man of the hour had just arrived as he expertly steered the rickety fishing boat alongside the only wooden dock within the vicinity. Catori wasn’t so sure it should be called a dock though. It resembled more of a ramshackle collection of rotting planks.

  Catori and the fisherman watched as Doc used the thick rope to tie off his boat and then shut off the engine. He glanced their way and his piercing green eyes could be seen from where she was leaning against her car. His lean muscular form reminded her
of a tiger and his eyes only added to that illusion. His dark blond hair was a mess, but she was relatively sure that was on purpose. It wasn’t long, but the thickness gave it a tousled look. He grabbed his gear and stepped onto the unstable anchorage. She was amazed to see that it held his weight.

  “Whatever you’re here for, trust me, he ain’t buyin’.” The elderly man gave her a compassionate smile and that’s when Catori realized that he thought she was some jilted lover. “He’s too hung up on that Charlotte. Shame she left him the way she did.”

  Catori lifted her eyebrow in question but the fisherman didn’t continue. She wasn’t the type of person to invade another’s privacy. Her pointed look was in the fact that this man was freely giving information to a stranger. He was old enough to know better, but it wasn’t her place to chastise him. He’d lived a lot longer than her and he wasn’t about to change now.

  “Fred, everything all right?” Doc had worked his way up the dirt path to the open area where Catori, and who she now knew was Fred, waited. Doc eyed her red convertible, but not only ignored it afterward but her as well. “Storm is rolling in. You need a lift to Myrna’s?”

  “No, no,” Fred replied, shaking his head. He reached into his back pocket for a rag and wiped the sweat off of his brow. His gnarled fingers had trouble keeping hold of the fabric and Catori had to wonder how he baited a hook. She winced at what she knew must be bad arthritis and didn’t envy the daily pain he must live with. “I was just keeping the young lady company.”

  Young lady? Catori bit her lip to keep from replying that she was fifteen years Doc’s senior, but she knew it wouldn’t change Fred’s perception on age. He had to be entering into his eighties, so to him she was young. Mentally she was anything but. She was still leaning against her car, but she wanted this introduction over so that she could have her say and move on to the next recruit. Holding out her hand, Catori waited for Doc to take it.

  “Whatever it is, the answer is no.”

  “Ha, told ya,” Fred said, pulling his lips in, scrunching his face and shaking his head in commiseration.

  “Fred, it was a pleasure to meet you.” Catori couldn’t take any more of the commentary. She let her arm fall back to her side. She needed Doc’s full attention, and from the sound of the thunder the storm was almost upon them. “Doc, my name is Catori Starr and I have a proposition for you.”

  “I already told you the answer’s no.”

  Fred seemed to take the hint, and with a touch to the brim of his hat he slowly meandered on through the lot to his destination. Doc studied her for a moment before turning on his heel, fishing gear in one hand and a pole in the other. Catori did love a challenge. She leaned back against the car and waited until he was about thirty yards out.

  “Two thousand and ten. Afghanistan.” The year and country brought Doc to a standstill, although he didn’t turn around. Catori finally had his attention. He slowly faced her, his green eyes staring at her intently. “Your team lost communication with higher headquarters and was basically on their own to face some serious opposition. You knew friendly fire was about to come from the other side and you managed to get the comms system up and running using only a field expedient NVIS antenna and a reflector you fabricated from the shit laying around your position. You thought outside the box and saved countless lives—which had nothing to do with your medical training, I might add. I need someone with your talent on my team.”

  “It looks like you’re out of luck then. I’m no longer in the service.” Doc glanced up at the clouds rolling in. He looked pointedly back at her car. “I’d get the roof up if I were you.”

  “Red Starr HRT is looking for a comms tech with your skillset. Your additional medical training is a bonus—one I’m willing to pay extra for.” Catori maintained eye contact and baited her trap with his dream. “Your wish of sailing on the ocean with a forty-six foot Perini Navi during retirement could be less than ten years away if you come work for me—although why you would want to retire at such a young age is beyond me.”

  Catori had sparked his interest now and it was up to her to close the deal before the skies opened up within the next five minutes. The wind had picked up and the trees were swaying in protest. The boat could be heard knocking against the wooden dock and the water had become increasingly choppy.

  “Hop in. I’ll fill you in on the rest and then drop you off at your house.”

  Catori knew she’d won when Doc walked her way and around to the passenger side of her convertible. His stride, so like his eyes, was very similar to a tiger as he hunted his prey. She could understand his need to find peace on the water, but he was too young to do it now. He still had many years ahead of him where he could be helping others and she aimed to be the one to utilize him.

  “I’ve heard of Red Starr HRT,” Doc said, taking his fishing pole apart into three segments and setting his gear at his feet. She was already situated in the driver’s side, pressing the ignition button. By the time Doc was seated, the soft top was closing them in and not a moment too soon. Rain dropped on her windshield. “Why me? There are hundreds of comm specialists out there that could do the job you need filled.”

  “I want you.” Catori pulled the seat belt across the front of her and then shifted the car into gear. She turned the wheels in the direction of town and got them on their way. “Take time to think about it. The offer and contract are sitting in your email for you to review. If you agree to my terms, you’ll report the first of August to the address listed.”

  “Just like that?” Doc placed an elbow against the window while his fingers rubbed his five o’clock shadow. Being a civilian had its perks, but not enough. Catori could see the unreleased energy within just waiting for a chance to break free. “You come out of nowhere, offer me a job, and what?”

  “You take it?” Catori countered, maneuvering the small town roads as if she’d been born here. Studying the layout of the town hadn’t been that hard. “I’ll be honest with you, Doc. Red Starr HRT took a two year break, but now I’m reviving it. Gavin Crest recommended you highly, and seeing as he’s one of the few men I trust, here I am.”

  “Crest?” For the first time since Doc set eyes on her, his shoulders relaxed. Catori had to wonder if there wasn’t something she or Crest missed in Doc’s background. His body language seemed a little too tense for having just fished an entire morning with nothing else planned for the rest of the day. It almost seemed as if he were expecting trouble. “I’ve known Crest for quite a few years. He was my Staff NCOIC over in Iraq.”

  “Forty-eight hours,” Catori said, giving a time limit. She already knew he’d say yes, but she wasn’t one to like loose threads. The faster her team was formed the quicker it would get her back to San Diego and the chaotic mess her new headquarters had become. Word had already leaked out that Red Starr HRT was getting ready to take missions and potential assignments were developing. She refused to let her team go on a live operation until she saw how they worked together as a unit. Catori swung the tires of her vehicle until they were side by side with the curb in front of a well-maintained two-story suburban house and shifted into park. “Is there anything you want to tell me that might interfere with the position I’m offering you?”

  Doc didn’t say anything as he reached down to his feet and grabbed a hold of his fishing gear. It was a damn good thing he kept the tackle box clean. If it had reeked of fish, she’d have made him leave it in his boat. Once he had everything gathered he placed his hand on the handle but didn’t move to exit. She waited patiently, her fingers on the stick shift.

  “Nothing I can’t clean up before the first of August.”

  Those words didn’t necessarily instill the reassurance Catori wanted, but Doc was free to have a personal life. Whatever his situation, it most likely had to do with the woman named Charlotte that Fred had mentioned.

  “See to it that it is. I need you focused.”

  Doc didn’t bother to utter another word as he got out of her car. The r
ain was coming down hard but it didn’t seem to bother him as he leisurely took his time to walk up the slightly crooked sidewalk. Catori did notice that he looked around, taking in his surroundings before unlocking his front door. She had a feeling that locking one’s home was an unusual occurrence around these parts, but considering what Doc had done for a living, it didn’t come as a surprise that he liked the extra security. Having faith in his ability to iron out his personal life before arriving in San Diego, she pulled away from the curb.

  Two down, three to go.

  Chapter Seven

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  THE NEON LIT jukebox in the dilapidated bar played a country western tune that was more rock ’n roll in Catori’s opinion. It was loud, but not so deafening that the rowdy customers couldn’t hear their shouted conversations. It was only eighteen hundred on a weekday, three days after her visit with Doc, but that didn’t stop those whom she assumed were regulars from coming in for their daily bellyful. It was a small dive located in a tiny town situated in northern Nebraska.

  Catori noticed that the loud banter had become more or less diminished as the locals noticed a stranger amongst them. She quickly memorized the layout of the place, noticing the bar to her right, a dartboard directly toward the back, one pool table off to the left, and around eight tables with four or five chairs each located in the middle. There were two small booths located in the far left corner that would be perfect to have a private conversation. The only potential trouble she could foresee were the two men playing a game of pool. It seemed to her that they might have just reached their limit.