by Karen Foley
He was impatient to get onto the ground. As exhausted and filthy as he was, he had just one driving need—to see Elena. He could try and tell himself that he just wanted to make sure she was safe, but he knew he was full of shit.
The woman had gotten under his skin in a big way. As much as he told himself that he didn’t want her on the base, he had to admire the way she’d adapted. She hadn’t freaked out during the sandstorm or the mortar attack, and she wasn’t afraid to leave the protection of the base to visit the construction sites. Moreover, she’d shown herself to be adept at her job, and he’d overheard several officers speaking highly of her skills. All in all, he was pretty amazed by her tenacity and proud as hell of her courage.
He glanced away from the window to the other four members of his team, wondering if he looked as rough and weary as they did. After ten days spent crawling through the rugged mountains, they looked more like enemy insurgents than they did American soldiers. He hadn’t showered, his beard had grown in and scratched uncomfortably against his skin, his uniform was soiled and torn in places, and he’d lost weight.
But they’d succeeded in intercepting the weapons transfer and had captured not only Mullah Abdul Raqid, but two of his top advisers, as well. The operation had been an unmitigated success, especially when Chase considered the information they’d found out from Raqid’s men.
He just needed to get on the ground and brief the base commander so Colonel Vinson could prevent any troops from inadvertently traveling into the area where the Taliban was planning an ambush. They hadn’t been able to convey that information over the radio for fear of giving away their position or having the enemy intercept the communication. He needed to tell the commander in person. Then he’d clean himself up and head over to Elena’s quarters. There were no rules in existence that could keep him from spending the next twenty-four hours in her arms, and his body tightened in anticipation.
As soon as they landed, Chase jumped down from the helicopter, bending low beneath the rotors as he and his men jogged over to a waiting Humvee.
Climbing inside, he was surprised to see the colonel sitting in the passenger’s seat. Great. If they could debrief him on the way to Tac Ops, he could shave a few minutes off the time it would take to get to Elena’s.
“Gentlemen,” Vinson said, turning in his seat to face the team. “Welcome back and congratulations on a job well done. Your efforts reflect favorably not only on yourselves, but on the U.S. Marine Corps. Your last communication said you had information regarding a potential ambush. Tell me what you know.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied Rafe. “The detainees are on their way to Kabul under armed escort, but we do have information that we believe is reliable and may impact your operations here at Sharlana.”
The prisoners had confessed that one of the nearby villages had been harboring a dozen or more insurgents and that these same insurgents were planning to ambush the next military convoy that traveled through the village. Chase couldn’t help but think about the similar ambush during his last deployment in Iraq.
The memory of the female convoy driver getting shot still haunted him. Try as he might, he would never be comfortable putting women in harm’s way.
Rafe was still talking to the commander, and Chase forced himself to concentrate on their conversation. The tiny village of Jani didn’t exist on any map, and U.S. troops rarely passed through the hamlet. The route to the drilling site came close to Jani, but in order to actually drive through the village, a convoy would have to leave the main road and make a circuitous detour. And the only reason a convoy would use the detour would be if the main road became impassable—
Chase leaned forward. “Sir, I saw a convoy of MRAPs leaving the base as we were flying in. Where is it headed?”
The men waited as the commander picked up the radio and spoke to the motor pool. The response made Chase go cold.
“Sir, convoy is headed to the southeast drilling site. Over.”
“Find out if any civilians are with that convoy,” Chase said tightly. “Ask if Elena de la Vega is in one of those trucks.”
“Roger that,” came the reply. “That’s an affirmative. Over.”
“Shit!” Chase wanted to punch something. He felt impotent. Elena was in one of those vehicles and if, as he suspected, the main road had been rendered impassable, the MRAPs would have two choices—they could turn back and return to the base, or they could make a detour through the village of Jani, where they could be ambushed by the Taliban.
He hoped like hell they decided to turn back. How long had it been since he’d seen the convoy leave? Ten minutes? Twelve, at most? Enough time to have reached the turnoff to Jani.
“Colonel, I’m going to need this vehicle,” Chase said grimly.
The colonel nodded. “You can have my driver, as well. I’ll come with you.”
“Sorry, sir,” Rafe said, “but with all due respect, we can’t allow that. We’ll drop you off here, if that works.”
The commander sighed. “I guess it’ll have to. Be careful, boys, and good luck. I’ll get you some backup and some air support.”
They dropped the commander off by the motor pool, and then they were racing out of the base toward the drilling site. Chase couldn’t believe that Elena had actually left the base after she’d promised not to. He should have anticipated that the Taliban would eventually try to attack a convoy traveling to the drilling site. Knowing that Elena was part of that convoy made his blood run cold. For once, he hoped the information they’d received was false. He hoped that they’d arrive at the drilling site to find Elena drinking lemonade with the project manager. The alternative was unthinkable.
Chase scanned the road as the Humvee sped along, taking the curves too fast, in danger of overturning if they miscalculated even a little. But the driver, a kid barely out of his teens, seemed imperturbable as he maneuvered the rutted road, and Chase eyeballed him with respect. “Nice driving,” he murmured.
The kid flashed a grin without taking his eyes from the road. “Everything I know about driving I learned on the back roads of Alabama. Nothing like being underage with a trunk full of beer and three cop cars in pursuit to hone your driving skills.”
“Very nice,” approved Rafe, his eyes gleaming.
“There!” Chase indicated the road. “Slow down. The road is out up ahead.”
A rockfall from the nearby hill made the road impassable, and the deep ditch on the other side made circling around the barrier impossible. Chase felt his heart come into his throat. There was no way the convoy could have gotten around the debris, and they hadn’t encountered any trucks since they’d left the base. Which meant the convoy had taken the alternate route through the village of Jani.
Sean leaned forward to get a better look, surveying the hillside with critical eyes. “Natural or man-made?” he asked, referring to the fallen debris.
“We have to assume it’s man-made, and that the insurgents are counting on that convoy taking the detour and passing through Jani. Back it up,” Chase said to the driver. “The turnoff is just behind us.”
They backed up and took the turnoff to Jani, and up ahead, Chase could just make out a low cloud of dust. “That must be them. Slow down, and keep your eyes open.”
As one, the men readied their weapons. Chase surveyed the landscape on either side of the road, noting the thick copse of trees on one side and the steep hill, studded with boulders, on the other. Even now, insurgents could be hiding on either side of the road, aiming their weapons at the convoy.
The dusty road was narrow and deeply rutted, and as they rounded a curve, Chase had a clear view of the three MRAPs. They had come to a stop about a hundred meters from the village.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, and his blood ran cold.
Elena and two soldiers had exited their vehicle and were walking toward the front of the convoy. And approaching them from the village was a group of men, dressed in long, loose traditional clothing. Clothing that could c
onceal anything from rifles to grenades. What the hell were Elena and the soldiers thinking? Didn’t they understand the danger they were in? Chase realized he had stopped breathing as he braced himself for the sound of gunfire. He needed to reach Elena before that happened—to protect her with his own body, if need be. In that instant, Chase realized he would do anything to keep her safe. Even die.
The Humvee skidded to a stop behind the last MRAP, and Chase had to force himself not to leap out at a dead run. The last thing he wanted was to startle the local men and inadvertently instigate a firefight before Elena was safely back in the MRAP. He’d have those soldiers’ balls in a vice for letting her out of the vehicle in the first place.
Scratch that.
He’d have their balls for not immediately returning to the base when they’d realized the main road had been compromised.
Chase walked slowly alongside the convoy, aware that his team had taken up defensive positions that would enable them to provide cover if fighting did break out. As he came around the front of the lead MRAP, he saw Elena crouched down in front of a child, speaking to him. Beside her, one of the soldiers translated. At least the guy had his rifle out and in his hands, Chase thought bitterly, and not slung across his back as if they were at a damned church social.
“Elena,” he called.
She turned and saw him, and for just an instant there was no recognition in her eyes. Then she smiled, and the relief and sheer joy he saw on her face made him go a little weak.
“Elena, get in the truck,” he said, keeping his voice low as he walked slowly toward them.
“What?” She looked bewildered, her gaze flying from the weapon he held in his hands, to the convoy where she must have been able to see his team drawing down on them, back to his face.
“What’s going on?” she asked, but she obediently rose to her feet and took several steps back, away from the villagers. “This is Kadir. Remember Kadir?”
Chase let his gaze flicker to the child, and recognized the boy they had treated for a broken wrist. He sported a cast on one arm.
“Yeah,” he answered. “I remember Kadir. Now do as I say and walk slowly toward me. This is not a safe situation.”
ELENA HARDLY RECOGNIZED the hard-eyed man who stood there as the same man who had left her just ten days earlier. With his scruffy beard and dirty clothes, he looked more like an insurgent than he did a special ops soldier. The expression in his eyes was one of cold intent, and she realized that if any of the villagers made a misstep, he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot first and ask questions later.
For the first time, she understood the risk she’d taken in leaving the MRAP. The soldiers had tried to prevent her from approaching the villagers, but she had recognized Kadir and had wanted to see for herself that the child was on the mend. Now she realized that she had put herself and the villagers in very real danger.
Before she could retreat gracefully, however, one of the village men pushed his way forward. Elena didn’t miss how Chase’s hand tightened on his weapon. The man was elderly, with a long beard and deep wrinkles, but his dark eyes were shrewd. Elena didn’t need to be told that this man was quite possibly the tribal leader. He didn’t acknowledge Elena, but directed his attention to the soldier who stood tightly coiled, ready to spring. As the old man began to speak, Chase visibly relaxed and reluctantly lowered his weapon.
“He says that Kadir is his grandson,” he translated, “and that he’s grateful to the American soldiers for providing medical treatment for his injuries.”
The old man bent down toward the boy and reached beneath the child’s tunic, withdrawing the angel necklace. The tiny charm winked against his wizened palm as he continued talking.
“He assures us that the American soldiers will be granted safe passage through these territories,” Chase continued, “and that no harm will come to the woman who showed such kindness to his family.”
Chase’s gaze flicked briefly to Elena, but his expression was shuttered. He said something in return to the elderly man, and then held out his hand to Elena. “Let’s go,” he said. “Now.”
Elena allowed herself one last glance at Kadir, who stood watching wide-eyed, before making her way past Chase to the MRAPs. She heard the whirring of a helicopter, and looked up to see a Black Hawk pass overhead, a gunner clearly visible in the open doorway, and her chest tightened in dread.
She climbed inside the MRAP, fully expecting Chase to follow her. He had come back safely. But to her dismay, he stalked past the convoy of armored trucks and climbed into the Humvee with his men. The two soldiers who had been assigned to escort her climbed into the MRAP with her, and as they closed the pneumatic doors, Elena was bitterly aware that Chase didn’t give her so much as a second glance.
He was furious with her, and she couldn’t blame him. She had no business leaving the MRAP, but had never guessed she might be in any danger. When they had come upon the rockfall, her military escort had suggested they return to the base. She might have agreed if the other soldier hadn’t mentioned the detour through the little village of Jani. She had wanted to visit the drilling site, and the detour had seemed like a safe option. She still wasn’t certain what had happened back there, but sensed she had dodged a bullet, both literally and figuratively.
When they arrived at the motor pool, she waited impatiently for the soldiers to open the rear door of the MRAP, intent on intercepting Chase. But by the time she climbed out, the Humvee was empty and Chase and his men were nowhere in sight. Frustrated, she began walking toward the contracting center when a voice called her name. Pausing, she turned to see a second Humvee driving slowly toward her. As it drew alongside, she recognized the base commander, Colonel Vinson, in the driver’s seat. He didn’t look very happy.
“Ms. De la Vega,” he said coolly. “I’m glad to see you…alive. Climb in, please,” he commanded. “You and I are going to have a little chat about protocol and the rules of engagement.”
Elena blew out a hard breath, knowing this was one bullet she wasn’t going to dodge so easily.
TWO WEEKS, Elena thought in dismay, as she made her way across the base to her living quarters. Her soon-to-be ex–living quarters. Two weeks was all she’d managed to last before she’d been given the heave-ho.
She hefted her flak vest over her arm and let her helmet dangle from her hand. If Chase could see her, he’d give her hell for not wearing her protective gear, but why bother? She almost hoped a mortar would squash her flat. God, she’d never felt so embarrassed or ashamed.
She recalled the conversation she’d had with Colonel Vinson in his office and cringed. Despite the fact that he’d been courteous and even kind, he’d made it clear that she had put both herself and his men in danger by leaving the safety of the MRAP. Worse, he’d suggested that the soldiers who’d made the decision to detour through the village of Jani, rather than return to the base, might receive a reprimand for their actions. Elena had tried to explain that she was to blame, not them; she’d been determined to visit the drilling site and prove that she could do her job.
She swiped angrily at her damp cheeks. She’d known that taking the detour was a foolish decision, but had she cared? No. She’d actually encouraged the soldiers to ignore protocol and do whatever it took to get her to the drilling site. And they had, because they’d been young and stupid and had wanted desperately to impress her. If she’d been a man, they probably would have held their ground and insisted on returning to the base. But because of her misguided priorities, she’d nearly gotten them all killed.
Colonel Vinson had explained to her, in excruciating detail, about the planned ambush. She’d been shocked, and then horrified by her own role in the morning’s events. No wonder Chase hadn’t wanted to see her. He must be as disgusted with her as she was with herself. But the colonel hadn’t seemed angry with her. In fact, if she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought he was actually amused. He’d told her that while she had disregarded protocol by leaving the MRAP, he credite
d her with actually averting a firefight as a result of her kindness to a little boy. He’d gone on to suggest that he was doing her a favor by sending her away. As if leaving Sharlana—and Chase—was some kind of reward.
No doubt Chase would be thrilled to hear that she was leaving. Her heart clenched painfully at the knowledge that she wouldn’t see him again. She would board a helicopter in the morning that would take her to Bagram Air Base, where she would work for the remainder of her six-month deployment. Bagram wasn’t that far from Sharlana, but it might as well have been on the other side of the world.
Colonel Vinson was right; she should be thrilled with the relocation. Two weeks ago, she would have been. Bagram Air Base was known for its amenities, including an indoor swimming pool and an ice-skating rink. As far as recreation and support services went, the base was second only to the Green Zone in Baghdad. She’d have her own small apartment and access to a state-of-the art fitness center. She should be delighted.
She wanted to cry.
Just the thought of leaving Chase, of never seeing him again, made her inexplicably depressed. She could care less where they assigned her because without Chase, none of it mattered.
She opened the door to her living quarters and dropped her vest and helmet unceremoniously onto the floor.
“I thought we agreed you would wear your protective gear whenever you left your quarters,” drawled a deep voice.
Elena spun around. Chase leaned negligently in the doorway to her bedroom. He had showered and shaved, and wore a black T-shirt and a pair of clean camo pants. His face was leaner than she remembered, and sunburned, but his hazel eyes glowed as he watched her. A tornado of emotions whirled through her.
“Chase.” His name came out on a croak. “What are you doing here? I got the distinct feeling you were avoiding me.”
