Code Name: Ghost (A Warrior's Challenge 1) (2 page)

“The squad needs a rest. They’re on stand
down for six weeks.”

He lowered himself onto the edge of Ghost’s
teak desk. “When the hell are you going to stop taking your aging
ass out into the theater?”

“Probably after it’s six feet under,” Ghost
said, pulling open the middle drawer, digging for something.

“I came to my senses, when are you going to
come to yours?" he said eying him. “There’s serving your country,
and then there’s asking for a bullet.”

“Had a few of those in my time, but it
sounds to me like you’re trying to tell me I’m past my prime.”
Ghost’s fingers shuffled through napkins and business cards with
phone numbers and a lipstick kiss on more than a few of them.

“You will be, soon enough.”

Captain Redding limped to his own desk and
eased into the chair. Rubbing his aching knee didn’t help, nor did
any of the therapy the damn doctors tortured him with. His wife,
Lydia, wanted him to retire when he had turned sixty, which was
last January.

“Once a SEAL, always a SEAL. You miss it,”
Ghost said, resting his elbows on his desk and flipping the card
he’d chosen in his fingers.

“Yeah, maybe, but the old girl would kick my
ass if I ventured farther than this base.”

He peered over at him. “Domesticated…it’ll
make a man old, Captain Redding.”

“Don’t give me that shit. You know damn well
most of your own team is married, and happy.”

“Not as happy as me.” He swung his chair to
look through the window again. “I’ve got one helluva good-looking
redhead coming over tonight to coo over this SEAL,” he drawled,
snapping the card in his fingers. “Maybe she’ll be the one, hey,
Red?”

“Uh-huh.” He watched Ghost survey the ops
room. Although there wasn’t much going on except normal base and
port traffic, Captain Redding reached over and turned on the
portable radio he kept on his desk to monitor the new recruits.

“Base this is Charlie Seven, outbound for
San Clemente, thirteen souls onboard, ETA three-zero minutes,
over.” The pilot’s voice carried a slight vibration and a familiar
tinny hiss.

Kayla’s voice answered without a second’s
pause. “Charlie Seven this is Base, good copy, we’ll advise.
Requesting current visibility, extensive fog bank reported
north-northwest of base, over.”

The Commander swung around and stared at the
radio.

“Nice—cadence, huh?” Seeing Ghost had the
same response most men did when they heard her.

Ghost twisted a look over his shoulder.
“Yeah, I guess—for a one-nine-hundred number.”

“Apparently no one’s complaining. The
lieutenant from the boathouse wants to give me an award for hiring
her.” He picked up the portable and turned the volume down.

Ghost rose and scooped his bag from the
ground. “As long as she knows what she’s doing, I don’t give a shit
what she sounds like. Men’s lives rest in her hands.”

“She does, don’t worry about that.”

“Excuse me, sir. Oh, Commander Austen! I
didn’t realize you were back. Welcome home.” Karen, their
administrative assistant, paused in the doorway. Her hip kicked out
as the tip of her high-heeled shoe curled to finish a perfectly
executed Betty Boop stance. “I’ve kept your monthly reports
up-to-date while you’ve been gone, sir,” Karen said, softening her
voice and following Ghost’s gaze out the window.

“Thank you, Miss Harrison. I’ll review them
tomorrow.” Ghost swept an uninterested look past her as she brushed
a wave of blonde hair away from her chest, revealing an extremely
low-cut neckline.

Karen stiffened, seeing the Commander turn
his attention back to the ops room. “Gord and Barry are a nice
addition to the team, but Kayla’s not very friendly,” she said,
offering an unsolicited critique. “I’m having trouble with her work
visa. She may not get approved.”

The Commander turned his steely gaze on her.
“Make it happen, Miss Harrison. I don’t need friendly. I need
experience. If Captain Redding handpicked her we’re not going to
let red tape get in the way.”

Red smothered a grin. Karen had been in lust
with the Commander from day one, and he hadn’t given her an ounce
of interest. The skirts had gotten shorter and the heels higher
over time, but she was still batting zero.

Karen faltered. “Yes, sir,” she said, her
expression melting to apologetic. “I tried to warn Kayla about the
‘Blood Shark’ but she brushed me off. I was just trying to be nice.
Kayla’s older, and that’s what the Shark seems to be hunting.”

“No leads on him yet, hey?” Ghost asked,
settling a dark look on him.

“Afraid not.” Five women had been murdered
and left on the Coronado Amphibious Base. Once the San Diego media
dubbed the serial killer ‘The Blood Shark,’ headlining him as
prolific and uncatchable, a national fervor grew wings with every
investigative reporter scrambling for theories. “But a nurse
disappeared while you were gone. Police are sure it’s the
Shark.”

“I bet you and the team could catch him,”
Karen said smoothly, tilting her head and muzzling a coy smile.

The Commander was the last man on earth who
needed flattery. “The Naval Criminal Investigative Service San
Diego is a competent agency. They’ll apprehend him, Miss Harrison.
Until then, keep your wits about you. Even though you don’t match
his profile, I’d think wearing less revealing clothing and lowering
your heels would be advisable.”

“Yes, sir.” A crushed look dawned on her
features, and she quickly departed.

Oh, Lord
. “Ghost, she’s young,
enamored, and all starry-eyed working with the infamous SEALs. Cut
her a break.”

The Commander snagged his jacket from the
coat rack. “She’s been misinformed, thanks to the media. She’s
looking for a hero and a husband, like most single women who come
here,” he stated, his attention drifting to the ops room. “It takes
an independent, strong woman to live a life with a SEAL. Most women
don’t know we’re out in the field for most of the year. When they
want to start nesting, it’s nothing but trouble.”

“How the hell would you know? You’ve never
tried.”

The Commander shook his head. “Don’t have
to, Red. I have all I need without having to say ‘I do’. Besides, I
like Christmas dinner at your place,” he added, giving him a
wink.

Ghost showed the world a sharp edge, but the
Captain knew the heart that beat inside the man was brave,
fathomless, and ardent. “Kayla’s single, you want me to fire her,
too?”

The Commander’s head snapped around. “No,
you wouldn’t have brought her onboard if you didn’t think she was
qualified.”

Interesting.

“I’ll see ya later, Red. I gotta date with a
shower and a sympathetic woman, preferably at the same time.”

Kayla’s laughter filtered in as the two men
reached the door. The guys were no doubt having fun with her again,
and as always, she took it in stride. Ghost adjusted the duffel bag
on his broad shoulder, his expression settling into stubborn
disapproval.

“Before you leave for some
well-deserved—empathy—I’ll introduce you,” Captain Redding said,
putting a hand on Ghost’s shoulder. “They’re your staff before
they’re mine.”

Ghost’s expression shifted, but only enough
for him to recognize it. The man had as much subtlety as he did
strength and intelligence. Uncle Sam would never let him go
willingly because he was the kind of warrior they wanted, devoted
to country before anything else, and a killing machine. Women were
nothing but a hot, brief diversion to the Ghost. Like his missions,
he was in, out and gone. A shame really, Captain Redding thought to
himself. Of all the warriors he’d known, the man who needed to fall
in the love the most was the man who never would.

* * * *

Setting his bag on the ground, Thane nodded
his agreement, but with the distinct feeling Red had one-upped
him—again. Red’s body might be giving out on him, but despite the
physical desertion, his mind could calculate at fifty times the
speed of any other man he knew. That’s why he’d always trusted him,
and kept a wary eye on him.

Red slid his security pass through the
reader and cracked the door. A waft of chilled air escaped the
center as they walked through the short anteroom and into the
darkness. The low temperatures kept the equipment cool, and helped
the staff remain alert.

Now he’d have to deal with a damn woman on
the roster. He’d managed to chase away the last harpy Red hired,
after listening to her incessant ideas and complaints for a month.
She demanded to be treated like a man, which wasn’t hard since she
looked like one. That didn’t matter to him, but she was more
interested in burning her bra and making a liberated stand than
doing the job. He groaned inwardly wondering how this one would
torment the hell out of him.

“Commander on deck,” someone barked.

“At ease, Jamieson,” he ordered, walking
toward the people huddled at the far end of the center. With every
step, a warning began to sound off in him. Squaring his shoulders,
he scanned the entire group, but his eyes skidded to a stop on her.
No expression marred her features. She reminded him of a portrait,
perfectly still and composed.

“Gord, Barry and Kayla, I’d like to
introduce you to Commander Thane Austen. You’ll be seeing him from
time to time. He’s in Command of SEAL Team One, and he’s just
returned from deployment,” Red said, standing beside him.

“Sir, I’m Gordon Baker,” the tall, young man
offered, telling him right away Gord was the most social of the
three. “This is Barry Olsen.” They both stepped forward.

“Mr. Baker. Mr. Olsen, welcome to Coronado.
Captain Redding says you’re settling in. We’re glad to have you
onboard. Apparently, you have quite a lot of experience already. We
look forward to that.” They both nodded and stepped back. It felt
like too many seconds ticked by, even though only one had
passed.

“Kayla?” Red said, bowing his head a little
as if prompting her.

“Commander Austen.” She nodded, but stood
her ground. A small beam of light from a lamp on the console
illuminated the others, but she remained in the shadows.

“Ms. Banks.” He didn’t move. She would come
to him. He might as well set the cadence now.

Although her eyes were dark, they pierced
through shadow and into him. The glow from the switches on the
console offered enough light to see thick brunette hair falling to
her shoulders in a glory of waves. He cleared his throat. “I
understand you have years of experience as well, Ms. Banks.”

“Yes, sir.” Kayla’s voice floated through
the darkness, shaking something loose inside him.

Slowly, she clasped her hands in front of
her.

That wasn’t a gesture of calm. It was
protection. “I’m sure everything appears daunting right now, but
with time, you’ll learn the way we do things in America.” She took
a step into the light, and a fierce but unmistakable sensation shot
through him. It wasn’t a bullet, but it ricocheted like one.
Holy—fuck.

“That should take no time at all for a
Canadian,” she said, her gaze holding his in an unyielding
stare.

For a second, doubt as to who was in control
fluttered uncomfortably into his thoughts. Gord and Barry shuffled.
Red clamped down on a grin threatening to bust out on his chops.
“I’m sure it won’t.”

Bold little thing, and instinct told him she
could bite, but he could bite a helluva lot harder, she’d learn
that quick enough. She wasn’t a SEAL, but she needed to think like
one. No woman could do that, especially not one as beautiful as
her.

This woman belonged in silk sheets with warm
hands seeking out her swelling feminine curves. Her sensuality
flowed around her like undercurrents in deep water. How could this
woman understand combat? An unfamiliar staccato in his chest
interrupted his internal debate. Long ago, he’d married his call to
duty and country, drowning his heart in the middle of the Pacific.
Now, after all these years, it rose from the depths of him, and
swam hard to surface.

Questions flashed through his mind as his
final thought made him tear his gaze from hers. She was under his
command.
Shit.

Kayla read the recent downloads from two
teams on deployment in Kabul and Panama. Both reports consisted of
intelligence information Commander Austen needed to review.

John nodded at her. “He’s in, you might as
well take them to him now.”

“You say that as if it’s an unsavory task,”
she said warily.

He offered her a shrug. “Can be.
Depends—”

“On?”

John pulled up his chair and took a quick
scan over his shoulder. “I don’t like to make presumptions, but the
fact is Commander Austen doesn’t really get on well with the women
who work here.” He held the printed copies out to her. “As you can
see, you’re the only one.”

Kayla groaned inwardly. After spending years
in a predominantly male profession, she could already assume what
was ahead. A long, hard battle of wills to prove she was as good as
the rest of the guys. Without squeezing too many brain cells, she
knew Commander Austen was a serviceman through and through. She
plucked the papers from John and stood up. “Well, wish me luck
then.”

“Captain Redding is in there, too. He won’t
let the Commander go too far off course.”

“That bad, huh?”

John gave her a sympathetic quirk of his
lips. “The Commander deploys a lot. You won’t have to deal with him
all the time.”

Kayla grasped the edge of her dress and gave
it a quick tug. Fine, she could do this. The Commander couldn’t be
any worse than what she’d already lived through, and that was
pretty much a trip through hell.

Tapping on the door, both men raised their
heads. Captain Redding gave her a warm smile.

Relaxing back in his chair, the Commander’s
steely gaze settled on her. “Ms. Banks, what is it?”