Blue Christmas (2 page)

With a groan she admitted that it wasn’t her work that had her staring at the ceiling. No it was a tall, laughing guy with a rakish beard shadow and an ass that she’d understandably overlooked, given her infatuation with Anthony. Tiffany took out her trusty vibrator that had been her sole solace since Willie the Wonder Boy bit the dust. But the memory of Willie dampened the emerging sensations that had been zinging through her since she’d seen Brady. With a scornful snort, she wondered if any of the young women who followed Brady into the starry night had been part of Willie’s groupies. Unlikely, given the abundant supply of young Korean women eager to bed American soldiers. These innocent girls lived in a media-created dream world certain that that they would be the lucky winner of the golden ticket and end up in America, convinced that the streets were literally paved with gold. Given that many of her undercover operations involved freeing unsuspecting Asian women from the flourishing international sex trade made Willie’s—and probably Brady’s—actions all the more abhorrent.

At the distasteful thought of Willie, Tiffany stuffed her vibrator back into the drawer. Instead of counting sheep she tried to imagine how a man screwed four women at one time. She wondered who did what to whom and when? It was a conundrum, something that had intrigued her since Willie had turned their bed into a playground. She wondered what beside the promise of an American-sized dick was Willie’s attraction? Knowing Willie’s modest endowments and short fuse, she imagined the women must have been disappointed. But it was doubtful that sex had attracted the girls. More likely it was the promise of a meal ticket or better yet, an airplane ticket. She could have told the women that the chances of any kind of a ticket from Willie was more remote than him lasting four minutes from start to finish no matter how many women worked on him.

Tiffany drifted off to sleep immersed in an erotic dream where the stars of the show weren’t Willie or any of the young women he’d brought to their bed. Instead, the leading man was a tall guy with a hearty laugh, twinkling green eyes and equipment that at least in her fantasy was a decided improvement on Willie’s. The female lead didn’t have shiny black hair or a tiny childlike body. No, in her dream, the star of the show was a vampy woman with pale skin and a smattering of freckles, a lushly curved body and bright red hair.

Chapter 3

“Tiffany, you have done a phenomenal job. You know that. As usual you have surpassed all of our expectations. Bringing in our consultant is not a reflection on you or any of the male members of your team.”

Tiffany nodded, doing her best to hide her annoyance. Col. Marion was a middle-aged man with balding hair, sharp blue eyes and an impressive array of medals and ribbons on his chest. In the past he had led dangerous field missions but was now content to commandeer the operations from a distance, bringing his formidable strategic experience to the fray.

In Tiffany’s thinking, her commander had one major fault. Col. Marion had a daughter Tiffany’s age, and the stay-at-home mom had blessed the Colonel with two adorable granddaughters. Though he never said as much, Tiffany knew the Colonel wished that Tiffany was under the protection of some other man—not him—and was busy procreating, not taking down vicious criminals. Under his crusty demeanor, she knew he adored her and was more proud of her than he was any of the male members of his team. But southern gentleman that he was, it stuck in his craw that Tiffany’s usual role in their missions was that of a seductress, a nicer way of saying that she was supposed to be a prostitute.

Fortunately for Tiffany’s military career, her Army Ranger father was the exact opposite of Col. Marion. Major Anderson never fully forgave God for giving him a daughter instead of a son. But making the best of a bad situation, he decided that just because Tiffany was inferior physically didn’t mean she couldn’t be a hell of a fighter. At first all went well. In elementary and middle school Tiffany was taller than most girls and swept every MMA tournament. Many parents wouldn’t let their daughters
or
sons in the ring with the precocious warrior. But then fickle gods in the form of Mother Nature intervened. Tiffany stopped growing—taller, that is—and began to grow in other areas. Her father was as horrified as she was with her now bounteous breasts and curvy hips. After he overcame his disappointment at her physical shortcomings, ever the creative special ops guy, Major Anderson created moves and countermoves that made Tiffany more of a threat than she’d ever been. But it was her stints in Asia that proved to be Tiffany’s testing grounds. As good an instructor as her father was, the Asian senseis she worked with were accustomed to smaller fighters, and open to women warriors. Under the tutelage of world class Karate, Tai Kwon Do, Muay Thai, and Escrima masters, Tiffany’s skills went from formidable to stratospheric.

Tiffany forced herself to focus on Col. Marion’s description of the consultant they’d hired at considerable expense. In addition to the inherent sexism, that was another thing that annoyed Tiffany and made her consider a career outside of the military. Unhampered by rigid pay scales and regulations that kept the military operatives in check, the outside consultants had free range. Often former special ops guys, they were the ones who never could stay on the grid. Most of them, adrenalin junkies with a clock too fast for even Special Forces, were making a killing in the world of outside consultants. According to Col. Marion their white knight met all of these criteria including a whispered fee the equivalent of six months of Tiffany’s pay. To say it pissed her off was an understatement.

Tiffany fought boredom as Col. Marion droned on about how lucky they were to find this particular operative. Apparently the guy was a world class poker player, accustomed to moving among the international jet set and could easily fit into Shin Lee’s elite crowd. And, he came with false credentials that his company promised would pass the scrutiny of the Jopok underworld. Tiffany sure as hell hoped so. She’d seen enough of the infamous Korean mafia to know that they could spot an amateur a mile off. When they did, there’d be room to spare in a two foot by four foot box, after they’d stuffed in all of his chopped up body parts.

At the knock on the door, Col. Marion put down his laser pointer and moved to welcome their newest team member and purported ringer.

Staring at the hunk at the door, twice in as many days, Tiffany prayed to whatever gods existed to open up the ground and let her sink into oblivion.

Brady’s lean muscular body filled the doorway. He loomed over Col. Marion, making the medium sized commander seem small, insignificant by comparison. But as Tiffany had learned in the past, it wasn’t Col. Schaefer’s commanding physique or extraordinary rock star good looks that made him formidable. Behind the laughing eyes, quick grin and smart mouth was a fighter to be reckoned with. No one who tangled with him once, ever underestimated him again. If they lived through the first encounter. To women, herself included, Tiffany knew that the whiff of danger simmering just below the surface of the seemingly gregarious man made him irresistible. Women wanted to know if the promise of sexual nirvana in those gleaming green eyes was real and as provocative as advertised.

Col. Marion puffed up like a proud peacock who’d managed to snare an extra-large piece of grain for his brood.

Leading Brady into the room, the older man introduced him with a triumphant wave of his hand, “Gentlemen and lady, I’d like to introduce Col. Brady Schaefer, former Delta, consummate scallywag and long term compatriot of the formidable Col. Jake Gardner. I’ve known Jake and Brady for years. I worked with them on a couple of missions and was sorry as hell when they left active duty. But nearly being thrown in the brink for overstepping their bounds more times that was comfortable, they decided they were better off working outside of the military. We’re damn lucky Brady was free for this operation. There couldn’t be a better fit for our needs.”

One by one, Col. Marion introduced the members of the team who’d all risen to their feet out of respect for the infamous shock jock and famous Delta Force member. Tiffany did her best to slink behind the taller male soldiers. But with obvious pride, Col. Marion found her hovering behind Capt. Tran Fong, one of their Korean born team members and turned to introduce her to Brady.

“Col. Schaefer, I’d like you to meet the star of our enterprise and the only person I know in the entire U. S. Army who could bring Shin Lee to his knees in less than a week. This is Captain—”

Before Col. Marion could say her name, Brady stared at her, did a double take and then roared in laughter.

“Hot damn! As I live and breathe there is a god!”

To the amazement of her astonished team members, he advanced on her, picked her up under her arms and swung her in a wide circle, knocking her regulation cap off her fiery curls.

“Holy shit, Colonel, if you’d let it be known that the hottest piece of ass in the whole of the U.S. Army was part of this operation, you’d have had every hound dog in the country begging to come aboard.”

Col. Marion stepped back trying to hide his dismay—and also his grin.

“I… I take it you’ve met Captain Anderson, Colonel?” He managed the understatement with a cautious wink.

Brady set her on the floor and looked at her with obvious delight. Dropping his gaze to her chest, he quipped, “Hell, Colonel Marion, I’d know these… freckles… anywhere.”

Knowing that her face was as red as her flaming hair, Tiffany did her best to recover. Ignoring the guffaws and surprised grins on the faces of the men she’d kept at a distance with her uber professional persona, she pinned Brady with a haughty glare.

“Ah, yes. If it isn’t Col. Schaefer in the flesh. The terror of mothers and fathers of young girls everywhere, and the scourge of every ‘by the book’ commander.”

Brady laughed, an infectious sound that made Tiffany smile in spite of herself.

“Now, now, Tiff. Don’t oversell me. Although it’s been my experience that the mothers of said girls were as interested as their daughters.”

Tiffany joined in the good natured laughter that followed his easy outrageousness, doing her best to recover from her shock. Listening to him take over the conversation, disarming the men with his quick grasp of the critical role he was to play in their dangerous enterprise, she tried unsuccessfully to squelch her memory of the previous evening, particularly the dream that wakened her this morning reaching for her vibrator. Knowing that the heat flooding her core had pinked her cheeks, she prayed to a nonexistent god that Brady’s vaunted ability to read a woman’s body didn’t include reading her mind.

When they’d gone over the evening’s assignment, assessing and reassessing the potential dangers, and making the changes that Brady recommended, the team prepared to disband. Most of them would be working throughout the day putting in the safeguards to ensure that the two stars of the evening, Tiffany and Brady, would be as safe as a crack team of U. S. Army operatives could make them. But even with all the preparations, everyone agreed with Col. Marion’s assessment. Facing the group as they prepared to leave, he was solemn.

“You are aware we are involved in a dangerous mission. If it wasn’t for all of you and the two people who will be in the thick of it, Col. Schaefer and Capt. Anderson, I would refuse to lead an operation potentially this dangerous to its members. But we have the opportunity tonight to break the back of one of the most violent—and successful—illegal arms dealers operating in the world today. While the Colonel and the Captain are in the most immediate danger, their success depends on you, the backup team. Don’t let them down, men. Be as courageous and as accomplished as you have been trained to be. Let’s show these vermin what happens when they poke a stick in the eye of the greatest fighting force the world has known.”

Following this rousing reminder of what they were up against, Tiffany moved toward the door, preparing to flee to the gym, aching to pull on a pair of gloves and pound the hell out of a leather bag.

But as she turned, she ran into a hard wall of a man who had no intention of letting her pass by.

His voice had a teasing lilt that was belied by the serious glint in his eyes.

“Uh uh, darlin’. You think I’m gonna let you go after three years of missing this hot little package? Not a chance, sugar. So park that glare in your fanny pack along with your Walther PPK and say good bye to your team. You and I are going to spend the day getting reacquainted before we take on the world’s evil men.”

Tiffany struggled against him surprised at her desire to bury herself in his strong arms and forever close the door on their painful past. Instead she resorted to sarcasm as she usually did when threatened with an unintended emotion.

“No can do, soldier. I have a full day of work preparing for tonight. Besides, given the abundance of eager women in this city and knowing your prodigious talents, you’d find an afternoon with me confining and disappointing.”

Brady stiffened and frowned at her, but if anything tightened his hold on her. His voice betrayed his surprise at her rebuff. To avoid being heard by the other men, who were diligently pretending to ignore their teammate captured in the arms of the dashing consultant, he spoke in a low tone.

“Not quite sure where that is coming from Tiffany, but I’ll chalk it up to your missing me. Something that we are going to rectify now, darlin’. So be a good girl and don’t make a scene.”

Grasping Tiffany’s arm, Brady tugged her toward the door. Nodding to the men who stepped back to let them pass, he said in a cheerful voice, “It was a pleasure meeting you all. I’m honored to be part of such an illustrious team. See you tonight, gentlemen.”

Not letting go of Tiffany’s arm, he turned to Col. Marion and addressed him as the long term friend that he was.

“Jake sends his regards, Marty. Thanks for bringing us in on this venture. It’s always a pleasure to work with the best.”

The Colonel scoffed. “Hell, Brady, I’d hire you for every op I run, but those nosy fuckers in Congress are looking harder and harder at our discretionary budgets. Not easy to hide your fees, man.”