Talon

by Ronie Kendig

  Wheels touching down saved him from the void of her acceptance. At least, that’s the way it felt—a void that he could vanish in. She accepted him, trusted him….Innocence bathed her fresh confident face. Not naïveté as some might presume. She wasn’t naive. He could see it in her mannerisms, in her dealings with others. But she did believe people were good.

  A fatal mistake. Not that he would intentionally hurt her, but who was he kidding? Manipulating her, playing this game—how could she not be hurt? All the same, he had a job to do.

  Backpack in hand, Cardinal hustled down the metal stairs and disembarked the plane, leaving behind Aspen Courtland and the baggage of guilt that came with her.

  Four men emerged from a building and crossed the tarmac, warbling with heat waves. Compliments, no doubt, of both the heat and the plane’s engines. The screaming whine of the jets slowed as the plane shut down.

  A tall man with dark hair strode toward him, dressed in his desert camo and a pair of ballistic Oakleys. “Lieutenant Markoski?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Captain Watters of ODA452.” He shook Cardinal’s hand. “Welcome to Djibouti.” He angled a shoulder and pointed to the soldiers. “My team will escort you and the others.”

  Cardinal gave a curt nod then glanced up the flight of stairs where Aspen appeared with a leashed Talon. Due to anxiety, he’d been crated and sedated during the flight. His strong body hovered at the hatch. Panting in the oppressive heat, he looked down the flight of steps. Then his soulful gaze struck Cardinal and the military unit. Immediately the yellow Lab turned. Tail between his legs, he scurried back inside the cabin.

  “Talon.” Aspen’s gaze darted to Cardinal before she hurried back in after the dog.

  “That could be a problem,” Watters said as quiet descended on the tarmac.

  “Let her worry about that.” But the captain had a point. A very sharp one that could poke a hole in Cardinal’s plans. He climbed back up the steps. Inside the cabin and bathed in the remnant of cooled air, he found Timbrel slouched against a seat.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Talon doesn’t like it.” Hogan slid her ball cap back on. “And neither do I.”

  Cardinal shouldered his way past her. “Well, only one of you is vital to this mission.”

  At the back of the plane, Aspen squatted at the wire crate that once again housed the Lab. Head down, Talon’s brown eyes bounced between Cardinal and Aspen.

  “He’s shut down on me.” Aspen straightened, arms folded. “He hasn’t done this in months.” She hunched her shoulders. “I don’t get it.”

  “Yeah, but he does.” Poor guy. If he already smelled danger and shut down, did they have any hope? “He knows this is trouble.” Cardinal crouched at the crate. “Did your brother ever come to Djibouti with Talon?”

  “Not that I know of. But then Austin’s missions were usually SCI or above.”

  Cardinal nodded as he reached into the crate and rubbed his fingers along the top of the Lab’s head. “Want me to carry him down?”

  “No.” She sighed. “I’ve seen him bare his teeth on those who force him into something he doesn’t want to do.”

  Cardinal straightened and glanced at her over his shoulder. “Has he bared his teeth with you?”

  She slowly shook her head. “No, but in a normal training session, I would give him a bit of space then reattempt the situation.”

  “But this isn’t a normal training session.”

  “Exactly.” She turned to him. “Look. I want to be honest with you—I’m not sure Talon is up to this. Maybe I got a little ahead of myself.” Long fingers traced her brow.

  “But we need him.” He tucked his chin, feeling the tension tightening the muscles in his shoulders. “You know how to handle him, right?” He waited till she agreed. “And you brought him to find me, which he did.”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice pitching. “But this…this base, the noise, the chaos—it’s shutting him down. It’s out of his comfort zone.” Aspen gnawed the inside of her lower lip. “I think if we can get him out there, out of this plane and walk him, let him know there’s no danger out there, he’d be okay.”

  “But there is danger.”

  She blinked. “Right.”

  “Can you carry him down?”

  “He’s seventy-five pounds of muscle and heartache.”

  “And you carried a sixty-pound rucksack in boot camp.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Yeah, only in that you strapped the ruck to your back because some burly sergeant shouted at you.” He raised his eyebrows and looked around the interior. “Here, it’s your choice. You’re bailing.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He wanted to grin at the fire that leapt into her blue eyes, and it fed the fire in her gut. And then a fire lit through him realizing he was working her, a maneuver so easy and effective, it almost never failed. “Fear. I see it in your face. You have doubts about this mission. You want to get your brother back, but you’re second-guessing yourself. Dump the doubts and the excuses.”

  “How dare you! That’s my brother—”

  “Then do something. Find that strength that got you through boot camp, that got you into JAG, and show this dog who’s in control.” Cardinal’s chest heaved. Easy there. Take it easy. “Put on that confidence you wear so well and carry him down. Show him you mean business. Show him this isn’t therapy. He needs to know you’re not afraid. I need to know you’re in the game to the end. I have a lot to lose if you aren’t in the game all the way.”

  Aspen swallowed and wet her lips. She hesitated before brushing those long, loose curls from her face. Without looking at him, she squeezed past him. Then stopped and looked back. “This is about Austin, about finding out who did this to him. Don’t ever…ever think it’s about you.”

  A war erupted in his chest—pride over her gutting it up battled the disappointment that stung briefly that she wasn’t willing to be honest with him. He saw her fear. Read it in her body language. In her hesitancy with Talon.

  He stepped back as she squatted and reached into the crate. Talon darted her a nervous look as she hooked her arms around the broad part of his chest and beneath his hindquarters. She hauled him out then pushed to her full height.

  Cardinal raised an eyebrow at the sight of her arching her back to balance the large canine overwhelming her upper body.

  “What?” She grunted as she angled around him.

  “That’s a lot of dog—and drool.”

  Anger still colored her cheeks with a pink tinge. “It’s nothing compared to Timbrel’s hound.”

  “He’s not a hound,” Timbrel called from the front. “He’s a bull-mastiff. I weigh his love in gallons of drool.”

  “That’s disgusting,” Cardinal said with a chuckle.

  “Only to the uninitiated.”

  “Then, please, don’t initiate me.” He paced Aspen as she navigated down the steps, his heart in his throat at the steep incline and her struggling to see around the dog to place her feet.

  At the bottom, she set Talon down. Ears back, head tucked, Talon started lowering himself, but Aspen broke into a jog. “Yes! Let’s go.” She cast a look in Cardinal’s direction as she trotted away. “Where to?”

  A woman with stamina, determination, and siren-like blue eyes…

  He wouldn’t come out of this mission unscathed. Neither would she.

  Ten

  If a guy talked to me like that, he’d be next week’s leftovers.” Timbrel shoved open the door and held it for Aspen, who led Talon into the conference room. With the heat, the confined space smothered her with claustrophobia. The long table and chairs didn’t help. Considering the chipped paint, the scuffed cement floor, and the chairs that looked like they were literally on their last leg, she got a swift picture of the state of affairs here in Djibouti. She couldn’t imagine this room with another dozen or so bodies stuffed inside.

  But that was just it—there should have been a
dozen others. “Guess we’re early.”

  “Or they’re late.” Timmy hopped up on the table and dangled her legs. “Okay, so seriously—don’t let this guy railroad you.”

  Aspen tugged the red ball from her leg pocket and showed it to Talon. Tail wagging, he panted his excitement. She rolled the ball across the floor since there wasn’t room for a good throw. He turned, hesitated as if saying, “Now why did you do that?” then lumbered after it.

  “Look, I get it—you’re a good girl, you try to be nice.” Timbrel hiked a leg up and hugged it. “But that guy? Don’t give him an inch or he’ll take the whole freakin’ world from you.”

  Aspen reined in her frustration. “Timmy, relax. I’m not letting him take anything.” She pointed to the ground, indicating Talon should drop the ball at her side as he returned with the slobber-covered toy.

  He deposited it at her feet then settled on the floor. She sat on the ground, her legs stretched out and ankles crossed. Talon reclined against her, his side pressed against her thigh.

  “I know you believe that,” Timbrel said. “But I’ve seen you drop your guard before.”

  “And you don’t?” Aspen shouldn’t have said it, shouldn’t have let her frustration get the best of her.

  Tension radiated through the gorgeous brunette’s face and shoulders. “Don’t change the subject. This guy is trouble if you let him be.”

  “I’m not letting him be anything.”

  “Then why have you been all morose since we got off that plane?”

  Aspen smoothed her hand over Talon’s dense fur. Remembering the way Dane had spoken to her renewed her belief that he’d crossed a line. “You’re right. He was wrong in the way he spoke to me.” She didn’t know him. He didn’t know her. She took direct talk from her friends, but from a guy she barely knew?

  Wariness shadowed Timbrel’s features. “But?”

  “But…he was right.” She cocked her head, looking at the complete surrender of Talon’s anxiety as he rested with her.

  “How can you say that?” Timbrel planted her hands on her hips. In black tactical pants and black tank, she looked like she’d stepped right out of an action flick. “The dude totally dissed you.”

  “No, he put it straight. He got to the point. I needed to hear it.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Admitting she was afraid, that she wasn’t sure she could find Austin…What an absolutely basic, foundational problem. “What am I doing here?”

  “Hey!” Timbrel’s gruff, loud word snapped through the sterile room. She hopped off the table and stomped toward them.

  Talon lifted his head, and though it was quiet, Aspen felt a rumble in his chest. She placed a hand on his side to reassure him. Timmy read his body language, the way he sat up a bit and eyed her, and slowed.

  “Don’t.” Timbrel crouched on the other side, away from Talon, looking directly at Aspen. “Don’t you dare do that.”

  Tears stung Aspen’s eyes. “I’m not a warrior. I’m not a special operations soldier. I haven’t even seen combat like you and the others.”

  “You’re Austin’s sister, and you have the most to lose if you don’t find him.” Timbrel’s expression flared with fury. “That will get you where you need to be. Don’t let that jerk get in your head, Aspen.”

  “He’s not a jerk.” Why on earth was she defending him?

  “You don’t get a vote on that right now.” She leaned in. “You’re the strongest woman I know. We’re here to find Austin, and we’re not going home without a mountain of proof either way. Don’t let Mr. SexyKillerBlueEyes wiggle into that innate soft spot you have. Give him the fight of his life, and make him think twice about playing you again. Got it?”

  “Got it.” The voice boomed from the door.

  Timbrel swiveled around and up as she faced off with him. “No manners either. You could’ve knocked.”

  Dane towered over them both by a head and shrugged. “Why? It’s a public room.”

  “Courtesy,” Timbrel said as she strode back to the table and crossed her arms. “Doubt you know anything about that.”

  “Probably not, since I’m a jerk who wiggles into soft spots.” The smirk of a smile—did the man ever really smile?—squirreled through Aspen’s hastily erected barriers, the ones Timbrel said she should have up. Was he taking the jibe she’d dished out in stride, or was he annoyed? Probably both.

  “See?” Timbrel turned to Aspen. “The man confesses to it. Maybe that is why he was sitting in a church after ditching you—confession.”

  Heat flooded Aspen’s face, and she widened her eyes at Timbrel, ordering her to cease and desist. The humiliation was enough knowing Dane had heard their conversation. She didn’t need it worse.

  But Timbrel had no effect on Dane. “Watters is on his way with the team and the plans.”

  “Where did this team come from?”

  “Burnett.”

  Aspen hesitated. “Why…why would he do that?” How did everything suddenly become so easy and attainable? “I tried for the last year to get them to listen to me, and they told me to move on, get over it.” Her pulse raced. Maybe they knew something. Maybe they—

  “It’s my fault.” Dane looked sheepish. “By going public on the news, I made them dig deep and take a serious look.”

  His charm, his easy mannerisms pushed her back a mental step, forcing her to remember Timmy’s warning. “How long has it been since you saw him, again?”

  “Two months.” A glint registered in his stormy eyes. Recognition. Awareness that she was questioning him, his story.

  That awareness folded back on her and wrapped around her own doubts. “Do you think he’s still here?”

  He lowered his head as he propped himself against the table. “Probably not. If he’s alive and hasn’t contacted someone he knows, then that means he’s either in trouble or causing it.”

  Aspen jerked. “Causing it?” Even as her words rang in her ears the indignation ripped through her chest. “What on earth does that mean?”

  “Exactly what you think it means.”

  “Listen, Blue Eyes,” Timbrel said, coming alive, “you don’t get to talk to her like that.”

  “Yeah?” Dane crossed his arms over his chest as amusement and irritation surfed his rugged face. “So, you think Aspen would prefer I sugarcoat it, feign ignorance and stupidity to make her feel better?”

  “Slick snot!” Timbrel let out a disbelieving laugh. “And everyone thinks I’m abrupt. This guy is downright mean.”

  “Not mean. Downright blunt. Being coy, playing roulette with truth isn’t going to bring Austin home or get answers.” He locked gazes with Aspen, and she felt as if he’d hooked into her soul, drenching her with resolute strength. “I’m not going to play with your emotions by shoveling platitudes down your pretty neck. And I won’t give you false hope or play nice.” His face hardened. “I don’t play nice. I play to win. Can you handle that?”

  Aspen swallowed, shaken by the ferocity and virility of his words.

  “Because if not, then we need to part ways. Now.”

  Part ways? With the single hope of finding her brother or the truth about his disappearance? “I wouldn’t want it any other way. I might be nice or a good girl, as Timbrel says, but I don’t quit.” She hated when people felt the need to protect her instead of fighting with her. “I don’t want to be pampered.” She gulped the adrenaline then gave him a curt nod. “Thank you for knowing the difference.”

  Silence dropped as he stared at her for what felt like minutes.

  The door swung open, and a flood of uniforms entered.

  “Whoa! Thank You, God!” One of the men with a sandy blond beard and Oakleys clapped a hand over his chest. “Be still my beating heart!”

  Timbrel groaned. “Not you again.”

  “Candyman at your service.” He grinned and tugged off the shades. “Baby, I was right.”

  Aspen watched as Timbrel moved a foot back, taking a defensive posture. Y
et she didn’t move. Didn’t punch. Or strike out, not even with words. Hesitation silenced Timbrel as she gave the guy a sidelong glance. “About what?”

  “Told you a face like yours would inspire a man to stay alive.” He held out his hands. “And hooah! A year later, here we are, and I’m still alive.”

  Timbrel’s eyes narrowed. “I can fix that.”

  “Down boy,” a guy with a dark brown beard intercepted with a grin. “I’m Captain Watters. First op will include medical escort to Peltier Hospital.”

  Aspen frowned. “Why are we doing that?”

  Watters turned to her. “The Djiboutians need our help.” He grinned. “And for cover—we can look around, ask questions without attracting attention.”

  “Without attracting attention?” Dane snorted.

  Aspen wasn’t following. “What?”

  Dane met Watters’s gaze. “She has white hair, fair skin, and is pretty. You don’t expect her to draw attention?”

  Peltier General Hospital

  Djibouti, Africa

  Loaded into a Cougar MRAP with Talon sitting beside her, staring out the window, Aspen smoothed a hand over his yellow coat. Such a handsome, noble-looking dog. So willing to go the extra mile, to lumber on even though he probably wanted to just go back home and trot around the safe environment of the ranch. She could relate. The mission had already set her on edge, upturned her expectations.

  Crammed between Timbrel and Dane, Aspen considered the others. Watterboy, as the others had called him, and Candyman—the man who’d earned the moniker handing out candy bars to Afghan children to win hearts and minds and who’d taunted Timbrel from the moment he encountered her on their first mission—drove the second Cougar creeping toward Peltier General Hospital, where the medical team in the first vehicle would aide with surgeries and the like.

  Timbrel groaned beside her as the front right tire hit another crater and jolted them into each other. “If I get bruises…” Thud. Bang. “You do know the point is not to hit the holes, right?”

  “Sorry,” Candyman shouted back. “Did I miss one?”

  Sweat sliding down her temple, Timbrel glowered at the Special Forces soldier driving. “Next one, and I’ll throw your head into the window.”