Danger Zone: Tales of Military Passion

by Marie Harte

  “I don’t think so,” Stick replied, resuming taking out his wallet and pulling out some cash. He threw three five-dollar bills onto the counter and then stood, returning his billfold back from where he got it. He did have the courtesy to nod his appreciation for her gesture before turning to go. “Have a nice day, ma’am.”

  “I find it interesting that a man with your many talents would waste them out on an oil rig in the middle of the ocean. I’d think it would get boring after a while. Same smells, same view.” Catori saw a booth opening up toward the back and stood with every intention of claiming it. She took a couple steps, making no effort to ensure that he would follow. “As for being incommunicado for that length of time, that’s got to be hard on you and your family, Stick.”

  Catori didn’t look back as she made her way to the booth, taking the seat facing the door. It was comical to watch the men’s faces as they realized she’d done it on purpose. She knew better than to have her back toward an open room without being able to see what was coming. Stick was still standing by his stool, contemplating his options. She’d piqued his interest enough that he finally conceded and joined her at the table.

  “Who are you?”

  “Catori Starr, Red Starr HRT.” She held her arm over the table and shook his hand, noticing that his grip was firm. He didn’t lessen the tension just because she was a woman. She liked that. “I’ve got to tell you, I didn’t expect to be chasing your ass over two states, so you better be as good as Crest tells me.”

  “Crest?” Stick relaxed slightly at the name. Now she definitely had his full attention. “How is that old son of a bitch? I haven’t seen him in quite a few years.”

  “I know,” Catori replied, signaling with two fingers to the waitress that she’d like two cups of coffee. “He’s his usual cryptic self. Makes a person want to knock his block off, but he’d probably put me on my ass. I’m good, but not so sure I’m that good. Of course, the element of surprise might be in my favor.”

  “Hostage Rescue Team?” Stick had been paying attention. Another plus. “Why would you be interested in me?”

  “Why did you leave the Corps?” Catori pulled back, allowing the waitress to set a mug in front of both of them. Conveying the two of them were good for a while, the waitress left them alone. “You only had eight years left until retirement.”

  “If you spoke with Crest, you know that I was a foot stomper. EOD—explosives ordinance disposal.” Stick looked out the window, where the sun didn’t show a hint of rising. It reminded Catori of all those early mornings in the Corps. “I’d had enough.”

  “Just like that?” Catori sipped her coffee, a few degrees hotter than the normal pot of coffee. She was surprised it wasn’t bubbling. “You up and quit?”

  “Quit?” Stick’s blue eyes darkened at her implication and he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “I served my country for twelve years disposing of landmines, cluster bomb sub munitions, unexploded ordinances of every kind and make you can imagine—from improvised explosive devices in Iraq to our own AT4 rounds that skittered across the ground and laid there until someone walked by. All it took was for someone’s shadow to make the temperature vary on those fuckers and have them explode. I didn’t quit, Ms. Starr. I was smart enough to know my name was written on one of those and I knew it was only a matter of time until I met my maker.”

  “You think you have a few more to defuse before you find your name? I know it’s a gamble, but look on the bright side. If you take me up on what I’m about to offer, you’ll be using those weapons for their intended purpose instead of disarming them. It’ll be a change of scenery and one you might like.” Catori could finally take a well-deserved drink of caffeine since the coffee had cooled by less than a quarter of a degree. “By the way, it’s just Starr.”

  “Fine.” Stick threw his hands up and then sat back, giving Catori his full attention. “Tell me this offer of yours.”

  “I’m gathering up a team to reassemble Red Starr HRT from the ground up. It was and will remain a first class operation. I want you on my squad.” Catori continued to talk, going into more specifics and knowing that what she was offering was too good for him to pass by. “You would make enough over the next five years to see to it that your sister receives the treatment she needs. I can only imagine how hard it is for your family to give twenty-four hour care. So I see it two ways. One, you can go back to working the oil rigs and be away for six months at a time. They pay well. Or two, you can come work for me and make five times what you do here, have the ability to come home between missions, and know that I’d pull your ass out ASAP if something happened to either your sister or parents.”

  Catori waited for her proposition to sink in, enjoying the rich flavor of the coffee. Damn if it wasn’t one of the best she’d had in months. She’d have to get some to go, knowing she could make it to California by nightfall. She needed to make a stop in the northern part of the state to finish up her business before heading down to San Diego by tomorrow.

  “So what’s it going to be, Stick?” Catori would normally have given her forty-eight hour window, but if she caught up with Kane Taylor either tonight or tomorrow she wanted to be able to give him a file of the team he would be leading for the next five years. Her contracts were iron clad, so unless one of them ended up dead—which was certainly a possibility—they would all be working for Red Starr HRT for their foreseeable future. “Red wire or green wire?”

  “Fuck.” Stick ran both hands over his face as if this were a hard decision. Catori wasn’t seeing it, but if he’d like to make a production out of it that was his choice. She wouldn’t claim to understand what it was like to have a sister who’d been paralyzed from the neck down in a car accident. What she could do was offer him enough money that his family wouldn’t feel the effects of having to care for someone twenty-four seven. She finished off her coffee and then signaled once again to the waitress, although this time she indicated a to-go cup. “It’s a good offer, Starr.”

  “Any reason you’re hesitating?”

  “Other than it places me back in the same situation as I was before? It wasn’t necessarily a bomb that had my name written on it. A bullet would do the job.”

  “It could,” Catori agreed, not able to make Stick the guarantees he obviously wanted. It wasn’t like he thought he would get them, but she could understand his uncertainty. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t get the answer she wanted. “Or you could drown out in the middle of the fucking ocean on some shit box oilrig.”

  Stick laughed, the weight of the world easing from his shoulders slightly. He took responsibility to heart and his family meant the world to him. She knew from his dossier that he felt the same about his unit and even to this day still kept in contact with some of them. He would be an asset to her team in many, many ways. When he smiled and leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head, she knew she’d won another round.

  “Green. Count me in.”

  Chapter Ten

  ‡

  “KANE TAYLOR.”

  Catori grimaced when the machines kept roaring, drowning out her voice and everything else with it. The construction crew must have already had their morning break seeing as they were all actually working and doing their jobs. This must be one hell of a ramrod for a foreman. Orange vests and hard hats were the only thing visible as the crew went about rebuilding a bridge. She didn’t want to know what they were doing, not caring in the slightest. As long as what was already up didn’t fall into the damn water she’d consider the morning a success. It wasn’t that she wasn’t prone to dangerous situations, but purposefully walking a metal plank to her death wasn’t going to be one of them.

  “Taylor’s over in the trailer. Now get the hell off my site.”

  At least that’s what Catori thought the hard-edged foreman said. She breathed a sigh of relief as she walked back the distance to where the trailer was situated off the side of the road, far away from the bridge and nestled into a patch of gras
s. The cloud coverage kept the heat at bay, and if anything the air had a slight chill to it. She’d just reached for the handle of the door when it sprang open, revealing the man she was looking for.

  “Who are you?” Kane barked, not bothering to pause in his stride as he pushed past.

  “Catori Starr.” She looked Taylor over as he stepped down from the trailer and turned. According to his basic information his formidable form was six foot three and two hundred thirty pounds of solid muscle. His dark brown hair was still cut with the same military style as the day he’d retired a rank below her as a Gunnery Sergeant. He was older than the others on her team, although not more senior than she was, and he’d also seen more action and knew how to lead a squad into Indian country. He was a born leader of warriors and she was about to give that opportunity back to him. “Mind if we step back into the trailer where we can have a conversation without losing our voices?”

  “Talk all you want, but I’m not buying what you’re selling.” Kane didn’t bother stopping to see if she’d catch up with him. Hell, with his attitude he probably thought she’d scurry off due to his rude manner. She could appreciate where he was coming from, but ground rules were about to be set into place. She would get final say when he was under her employment and that was about to become apparent. Kane pulled the cheap Motorola Talkabout from his belt and shouted into the transmitter. “Sully, did you get those blueprints like I asked? The rest of this bridge isn’t going to build itself and we can’t do shit without those plans.”

  Catori let Kane walk away, his voice deep and resonating over the volume of the machines. Complaints about Sully could be heard loud and clear as he sought out the man in question. That wasn’t her concern and frankly she hadn’t had quite enough caffeine to have to deal with this. She leaned against the trailer, knowing the white crisp-starched shirt she pulled out of her suitcase this morning would be black from the dirt that was caked onto the siding. Waiting for one of the construction crew to walk by, she was finally able to stop one of the men and motioned with her hand that she wanted his walkie-talkie.

  Catori bided her time and waited for just the right moment—which was when Kane was about to climb into a black Ford 150 truck that looked brand spanking new. She lingered a moment more for him to open the door and set a boot-clad foot onto the runner before she pressed the button on the side of the radio.

  “Gunny, I have a team assembled and they are awaiting orders. Your orders.” Catori released the button and observed Kane’s reaction from afar. He stopped and slowly lowered his foot to the ground. Although she couldn’t see them from here, she knew his hazel eyes now bore into her. She pressed the switch one more time. “Unless you’d rather stay here and, you know, build a bridge. I wouldn’t want you to miss all this action. Interrogative.”

  It didn’t surprise Catori when Kane walked back her way and his stride struck her like a predator on the prowl. The use of the single word on a tactical radio channel meant she had asked a question and expected a response. She remained where she was until he was standing in front of her, the intensity of his stare trying to gauge what she meant. She maintained his gaze as she held out the radio to the man still standing beside her, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here. He looked at Kane before slowly reaching for the walkie-talkie and quickly walked away toward the bridge.

  “Seems like you run a tight ship here, although your talents are wasted in my opinion.”

  “I don’t care about random people’s opinions,” Kane replied, surveying Catori from head to toe. He kept his judgments well hidden. “You’ve captured my attention though. No one has called me Gunny in a couple of years. I take it this is a government sanctioned job?”

  “Does that mean your skills are rusty?” Catori asked, ignoring his question. She gave as good as she got and took her time looking Kane over from top to bottom. He was a very attractive man, although not her type in the slightest. Red’s face flashed before her eyes, bringing her back to why she was here. “I’m sure there are other Gunnery Sergeants who served and whom can still step up to the plate.”

  “Like I said, you’ve got my attention.” Kane reached for the handle of the door, which was to the right of where Catori was standing, and opened the flimsy access. He motioned for her to proceed before him, and once both of them were inside the trailer he shut them inside. Other than the whirl of the AC unit pushing air into the room, it was fairly quiet. It took time for her eyes to adjust and she was surprised to see that the depth of the trailer was actually bigger than it appeared. “Coffee?”

  “No, thank you.” Catori took a seat at a small wooden table that had seen better days. She knew from his attitude that Kane wasn’t the type of man who liked to sit for long moments of time, so she cut to the chase. “In your email you’ll find a five year contract for the position of lead operator working for me at Red Starr HRT. We take hostage rescue missions that the Bureau won’t touch or can’t legally touch. To answer your question, we’re not government sanctioned—however, we do have a license to operate in the US and abroad. I don’t have to tell you that some of the assignments that we’ll take will be risky, whereas others should be a piece of cake. Luck of the draw—you see, Red Starr HRT is a private contractor. Our services don’t come cheap. You come highly recommended and from what I’ve read in regards to your assignments, your skillset is well matched with the team that I’ve assembled.”

  “Red Starr HRT.” Instead of sitting with her at the table, Kane leaned back against a counter that appeared as if it would crack from the weight of his body. He crossed his arms and she wasn’t surprised to see the size of his biceps. He wasn’t the type of man to let his body get out of shape and she had to wonder if he’d always known he would get back into the combat life somehow, someway. “I met your husband Red a while back. I was sorry to hear that he had come up MIA.”

  “You don’t have to fill his shoes,” Catori said in reassurance, although she knew Kane hadn’t given his condolences for that purpose. She didn’t really care. She wanted a team. He was that last spot, and if he didn’t want to take it that was fine by her. “Your job will be to lead and train a freshly assembled tactical team. Are you interested?”

  “Do I get a say in the members of this team?”

  “Within reason—however, I make the final call on every team member.” Catori could just make out the tightening of Kane’s jaw, indicating his displeasure at not having the definitive decision on the men that he would be responsible for. “Make no mistake, Kane, I make the final call as to who is on our crew as well as all of the assignments. When you’re in the field, the tactical decisions are solely yours. You trust me to give you the tools and training you need and I’ll trust for you to get the job done with the least amount of casualties to our team.”

  Silence descended over the small trailer, and while Catori allowed Kane time to digest the information that she’d laid out in front of him she glanced at her watch. She had set up a meeting with a heavy weapons supplier later this evening and as of right now she was doing okay on time. Before Kane made a decision, she wanted to go over one more thing that she was well aware wouldn’t be a pleasant topic. She knew this from personal experience.

  “Your sister was killed during a deployment over in Nigeria.” At this point, Catori was sure that Kane’s jaw would crack under the pressure he was employing on it. This was something she had to cover, so she continued. “I understand that Sidney had been chosen for an op and that you were against it. You’ve ruffled some feathers lately in wanting answers that no one seems willing to give.”

  “This isn’t a topic that I’m going to discuss with you.” Kane kept his reply short, as if he thought that would end this conversation. “Much like Red is off limits around you, my sister has the same status.”

  “Duly noted.” Catori felt each and every one of his words as if she’d just taken a bullet to her chest. It didn’t change the circumstance of needing to have this discussion. “After you giv
e me the reassurance I need, we don’t need to bring this up again.”

  “And what reassurance would that be?” Kane inquired, his voice void of any emotion.

  “You won’t use Red Starr’s operational access to obtain the answers you seek.” Catori stood and slipped her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, conveying a relaxed appearance when she felt anything but. She knew exactly how Kane suffered and there was nothing on the face of this earth that could give him the closure he needed. “We have military and government contacts that have extremely high and very special clearances, even as contractors. We’ll utilize them for our missions, such as our secure Siprnet server, encryption systems, and feeds from NRO for Tactical Data. These relationships that I’ve cultivated and hardware I’ve gained access to aren’t to be used for personal reasons. I won’t risk the lives of my team because you’ve burned bridges we need to operate.”

  “And if I can’t guarantee that?”

  Catori distinguished from reviewing Kane’s dossier that he was a man of honor and spoke only the truth. She respected that and had been prepared for it as well. Men like him were the reason others survived situations that would otherwise have failed. She was always willing to compromise, given that it benefited both parties.

  “I give you my word that I will look into your sister’s death if you give me your word that you won’t jeopardize the affiliations that we’ve worked damn hard for at Red Starr HRT.” Catori waited for her words to sink in, and when the brown of his hazel eyes became more golden, she knew they had a deal. That didn’t mean she didn’t want a verbal promise. “I’ll need your word.”