Hearths of Fire (5 page)

“I like a man who’s direct. As much as I’d like to sum this up within three words and be on my way, it’s not that simple.” Catori nodded toward the building. “Mind if we go inside where the sun won’t bake us both to death?”

“This?” Trigger said with a laugh, looking up toward the sky. “This ain’t nothin’.”

That Southern charm and the offhanded comments of his would come in handy, especially if the team were engaged in an intimate conflict. This type of carefree attitude could sometimes defuse a hostile situation. Then again it could also be used in a wrong manner, leading to disarray. It was Catori’s place to make the call if he knew how and when to talk himself out of precarious situations.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not go over my proposition outside in the heat.” Catori studied him and caught the interest he had in her statement. Crest had added a personal note on Trigger’s profile stating that he was a professional at maintaining his cool in hostage situations, having proven himself time and again within a Special Operations Unit within the Marines. He was a thirty-one year old man and his calm demeanor was something she wanted for the team. “I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

Trigger considered her offer, showing the patience that had been instilled within him from childhood. His background stated that his parents were still married and lived in the same house that they had raised their family in. His father was a manager of the local bank while Trigger’s mother had stayed at home to take care of her children. Dixon’s sister was married with two school-aged children and lived in the same neighborhood where she was raised. It was an all American family that had written to Trigger regularly and had always been there to greet him upon arriving back into the States. When he nodded, she knew that she’d garnered his attention enough to hear the rest of what she had to say.

Catori warily looked at the dog as she took a step forward, but Diesel seemed unaffected now that Trigger had given him a command. Diesel was Mac’s dog, from what the waitress had said at the diner. He shouldn’t be a problem going forward. She’d seen K-9s do wonderful things out in the field, but there wasn’t a place for him on her team. She would have sworn she heard laughter in the light breeze that suddenly kicked up, causing the dust at her feet to rise as she continued to follow Trigger around the back of the building.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” Trigger asked, motioning toward an old vending machine that had just as much grime on it as everything else in the garage. She honestly didn’t care about the dirt, having slept some nights in places people wouldn’t walk in during the daytime. If he thought this place would make her uncomfortable, she was looking forward to proving him wrong. Unfortunately there wasn’t any air conditioning, but at least they were out of the sun. “I think the expiration dates are still good on those cans.”

“No, thank you.” Catori smirked and shook her head, indicating that she was fine for now. They continued to the front where she’d seen the disorganized office, which did strike a nerve. Her work place was clean, efficient, and damn well organized. No wonder this place wasn’t a booming business. It didn’t even look like Mac owned a computer. “May I?”

Catori gestured toward the only guest chair, with its torn leather and rusted metal back. Trigger swiped a magazine off of the surface and continued around the desk until he took up residence in the larger rolling chair that had definitely seen better days. Once they were seated, he looked pointedly at her. It was clear that he felt he didn’t need to start the conversation.

“I’ll make this simple. Your skill as a close combat operator is required to round out my team. I’m offering you a position on a hostage rescue squad that will be taking cases the FBI and others won’t touch. This includes domestic as well as assignments abroad. Some won’t be pretty and you might want to make sure your personal affairs are up-to-date. For each mission completed, a healthy check will be placed into your account. An additional stipend will be paid during any down time as a retainer and training is provided for all mission-essential tasks at my cost. Life insurance and medical benefits will be provided and the amount you receive in salary will more than cover your additional expenses for living in the greater San Diego area.”

Silence descended over the small office with the exception of a ticking clock on the oily wall. The paint looked like it was peeling off, but Catori thought maybe it was just the way stains of smoke lay on the surface. Mac must be a chain smoker from the way the rust colored streaks lined the walls. She waited for Trigger to say something, appreciating that he was taking his time before making a life-altering decision.

“Who are you?”

Catori had been waiting for that question, actually dreading it. Trigger had asked so quietly, she wasn’t so sure she hadn’t made it up in her head. Within the small community of elite operators, everyone had known Red. She wasn’t worried that Trigger would say no to her offer. She was more concerned that he would accept it based on Red’s legacy. She wasn’t her husband and would never trade on his name.

“Catori Starr—retired Marine Master Sergeant. You can call me Starr.”

“Shit, you’re Brendan O’Neill’s wife. Red Starr HRT.” Trigger sat a little straighter in the chair and rubbed his chin, leaving a small streak of black oil in his wake. His statement confirmed her suspicions. This felt like déjà vu, considering she’d just had this conversation over the last three days with two other men. There were many more to go. His brown eyes softened in compassion. “I’m sorry for your loss. I heard that he had been killed overseas. I had the honor of meeting him once, years ago.”

“Gavin Crest seems to think you’d make an excellent addition to Red Starr HRT,” Catori replied, ignoring his condolences. She glanced at her watch and signaled she wanted this meeting to conclude. Honestly, she’d made up her mind the moment he’d ordered Diesel down. There was a quality of inner strength to his voice that couldn’t be taught. He’d been born to be a leader and he was wasting his talents here, although she was sure Mac would dispute that fact. “I agree with Crest. You’re well qualified and your last mission provided me with the information I need to know. You’ll find additional details to the position that I’m offering you in your email. I’d like a binding answer within the next forty-eight hours. You can sign the detailed offer letter and fax it back or you can just let the deadline expire.”

Catori stood and reached for her sunglasses, allowing her hair to fall around her face. Before she could slip them on, she saw that Trigger was shaking his head. Did that mean he was turning her down? In all honesty, she hadn’t once considered that anyone on the list that Crest had given her would pass up a chance to get back into the game. All the info on the men suggested they were hungry for more than what the civilian world could offer.
She
was their chance.

“Well then, I appreciate your time.” Catori wasn’t a woman to negotiate and she wasn’t about to change her position on that topic now. She hadn’t lied. Trigger would have made a nice addition to those men she had in mind, but there were other men out there with his skills. She’d have to search a little harder. “Good luck, Trigger.”

“Starr, I wasn’t implying that I wouldn’t take the job.” Trigger stood, waving his hand toward the door. She turned to see Diesel sitting a foot away, his head cocked to the side and watching their exchange. “You mentioned you stopped in town. I don’t know if you heard, but the owner of this place passed away last week. Mac was like an uncle to me growing up, and when I came back to recuperate, work around the garage gave me something to do. Mac left me the place, along with Diesel.”

Catori smothered a curse and slipped on her sunglasses. A dog? It wasn’t like Diesel had military training. She turned back around, catching Trigger doing some type of hand motion. He shrugged and smiled, trying to win her over with that Southern charm. It wasn’t going to work. Didn’t he know that she’d dealt with hundreds of men like him?

“Well, I guess you have your work cut out for you during the next month with selling this place and finding a home for Diesel,” Catori stated, making herself clear. “If you accept the position, I’ll expect you to report the first of August at the address listed in the email. You’ll meet your lead operator and the rest of the team on that date.”

“That gives me two months to train Diesel,” Trigger said, pushing his luck, and from the look in his brown eyes he knew it. Begrudgingly she respected a man who knew what he wanted and went after it. That still didn’t mean he would get his way. “Starr, he’s only two years old. I can get it done and he’ll be an asset.”

“Find him a home, Trigger.”

Catori left the office and chose to go out the front door. She flipped the deadbolt and exited, ignoring Diesel’s brown eyes. Red had once tried to talk her into getting a canine for their team but she’d adamantly refused. It wasn’t cost effective and damned if she’d get too close to an animal that loved so unconditionally. Growing up on a reservation had taught her that. Events happened where people couldn’t protect nature and watching it become destroyed was devastating.

“I’ll make you a bet, Starr,” Trigger called out from the doorway. Catori had her hand on the handle when he’d challenged her. The smart thing would have been to get in her convertible and drive away. Then again, her competitive side came to the forefront and she found herself turning to face him. “If in two months I can get Diesel certified, he comes with me.”

“And if you can’t?” Catori leaned against the hot surface of her car, crossing her arms as if she had all the time in the world. She could play poker with the best of them. “I don’t make bets if there’s nothing in it for me, Trigger. And seeing as I know for a fact it takes over a year of basic training with continuous guidance thereafter, the odds are on my side.”

“If I lose, I’ll foot the bill for the first weekend bender by the team.”

“Shit, not good enough. They can pay for their own booze,” Catori said, pushing herself off of the vehicle and finally getting situated in the driver’s side seat. She pressed the control on the console, not needing a key as the vehicle used a push button ignition. She put her car in reverse and pulled out, shifting back into drive but keeping her foot on the brake. Trigger still stood in the doorway, Diesel by his side. The damn dog looked at her like she’d stolen his only bone. “Two months. If you lose, the entire team paints the new warehouse I purchased for our home base. You can explain the reason their weekends in August are spent on a ladder with a paintbrush.”

“Challenge accepted.” Trigger flashed a smile that shined through the grease on his chin and cheek. His hand rested on Diesel’s head. Damn if she didn’t like him already—Trigger, that was. “We’ll see you in August, boss.”

Catori shook her head, refusing to let the man see her smile. After she hired her lead operator, she’d lean back and watch them be put through their paces. It would be nice to witness the men comprehend that she was the leader Red had always relied on her to be. Thinking it and knowing it were two separate things. She put her foot on the gas pedal and sped down the deserted road toward her next encounter.

‡

I
t had taken
Catori most of the morning to track down Neal “Doc” Bauer. She’d spent the evening going over the notes and making a list of additional contacts that Red Starr HRT would need in specific embassies. Most of her previous official state department contacts had rotated back to the CONUS—two years was an eternity to be out of the game. The majority of assignments that the federal government wouldn’t take were overseas, so it was essential to have reliable associates in key locations. That was also the reason for the
Promised Land
—the ability to park a mobile operating base outside the territorial waters of a hostile country negated the need to transport her team via commercial airlines or slip past corrupt border guards.

The redesigned APD allowed for the midline storage/launch of four eleven meter Naval Special Warfare (NSW) Rigid Hull Inflatable Boats, deployed via an improved articulated boom system that Red had designed himself. In addition to the RHIBs, the refit included the addition of an aft hangar bay facility and a one hundred foot long helo pad for their MH-60S Knighthawk Medium Lift Helicopter. The hangar bay retracted to a twenty-five foot maintenance bay during normal flight operations and expanded to cover an additional twenty-five feet of the flight deck when the Knighthawk was folded and stowed for heavy weather. There were those occasional domestic jobs that didn’t require such massive logistical support, but those usually consisted of cults who brainwashed vulnerable people or cases of a similar nature. Either home or abroad, a good communications specialist was vital. Add on the fact that the man she was here in Missouri to see had extensive field medical training and it was a twofer.

“Can I help you, miss?” an elderly gentleman asked. He was wearing a fishing hat with colorful lures hanging on all sides while he maneuvered uphill on the last bit of a dirt path that Catori was certain led away from where the fishing would be. “You seem a little lost.”