Tactical Strike (6 page)

She shook her head at her friend’s discipline. “You’re
relentless. Do a mile for me while you’re at it.”

“Will do.” Following Honor, Maya paused near the door to plug
in her requisite earbuds to stream a constant barrage of hip-hop before looking
back at her. “Sure you don’t want to join me?”

Candace snorted. “Yeah, no. I’m not into masochism.”

Maya snickered and muttered something in Spanish Ace didn’t
quite catch, then left her alone in the B-hut.

With a sigh, Candace lay back and tucked a hand behind her
head, once again thinking about Ryan. That touch had completely thrown her. He’d
caught her off guard and while she probably should have slapped his hand away,
the overt concern in his eyes had stopped her. Maybe he did like her on some
level other than sexual after all. A part of her had wanted to step closer until
she could take a deep breath of his scent into her lungs and lay her head
against his solid shoulder.

Her thoughts kept circling back to the night in the hospital
with Devon, while they were waiting for word about Cam. He’d cradled Dev in his
arms and comforted her while Candace had stroked her back helplessly. That
tender, protective side of him had completely melted her. Did he really care
about her that much too?

“For God’s sake,
enough
already.”
She refused to dwell on him anymore. Rolling to her side, she put in her
earplugs. It felt like she had sand under her eyelids when she closed them, but
that wasn’t the most irritating part.

It was that she couldn’t get the image of Ryan’s face out of
her head.

Chapter Three

“So the rumors are true?” Khalid moved away from the
others gathered around the small pre-dawn warming fire so he could hear
Nasrallah better through the hand-held radio.

Static crackled in the background for a moment before the
general replied. “Yes, it’s true. The attack is set for early tomorrow
morning.”

Despite the freezing temperature and his numb lips, Khalid
smiled. “That is good news.” Finally, they were hitting the Americans where they
felt safest. It might be a small attack, but the statement behind it was clear.
He and the other survivors had not been defeated in the last battle. There would
always be martyrs willing to die in the holy cause of ridding their homeland of
the infidel occupiers.

The Americans were oblivious, of course. It gave Khalid a
fierce sense of satisfaction to know that one of their own had orchestrated this
latest attack. The greedy, bullying capitalists had enemies everywhere, even
within their own ranks.

The radio chirped again. “Some of my men have reported seeing
American and British teams scouting out the valley with the old Soviet
airstrip,” Nasrallah continued. “This may be the start of the offensive they
intend to launch. We will head there immediately—bring your men up as fast as
possible. I’ll be in contact once we’re in position.”

Several of his men were watching him as he conversed with
Nasrallah, though none of them could understand the English being spoken. Yet
another advantage Khalid had over the others, one he’d learned from another
American many years ago before they pulled out and let Afghanistan be plunged
back into the Stone Age in the wake of the Soviet invasion. How strange and
wonderful were the workings of Allah. “I will move out within the hour.”

Tucking the radio into his waistband, he huddled deeper into
the folds of his coat and rejoined the others at the fire. The teenagers and
handful of old men from his village watched him expectantly. Trusting his
guidance, his judgment. He would not fail them.

“Something very exciting is about to happen,” he told them in
Pashto. “Some of our men are taking the fight to the enemy’s doorstep. We’ve
been asked to move down into the valley to wait for the Americans in preparation
for their attack.”

Cheers and praise for Allah rose into the biting wind that cut
through the rocky crevices. The men doused the fire and scrambled to gather
their weapons, ready for the long, difficult march down the mountain. Khalid
took the lead down the narrow trail at the front of his men, certain of two
things.

The Americans would be crawling all over these mountains within
hours of the attack. And as of right now, there was no turning back for any of
them.

* * *

Maya slowed the treadmill to a fast walk for her cool
down and took a couple of swallows of water before wiping her face and neck with
the hand towel she’d slung around her shoulders. The gym was empty, which was
weird, but she actually enjoyed the added solitude. This particular gym on the
eastern side of the base was smaller than the others and usually less busy,
which was why she mostly worked out here after her shifts. It had been too cold
for a run outside this morning, even for her.

Once her heart rate was back to normal she stopped the machine
and climbed off to stretch her hamstrings and quads. Releasing her left ankle to
drop her foot back to the floor, she caught movement in her peripheral vision.
Following it, she stilled in surprise. That PJ, Jackson, was coming toward her.
And he was holding a bouquet of what looked like wildflowers in one fist.

You
have
got
to
be
shitting
me
.

Very slowly, she straightened and removed her earbuds as she
groped at her waistband where her iPod was clipped and shut it off. Her eyes
dipped to the flowers clutched in his hand then strayed up the wide expanse of
his chest covered by his jacket and to the strong planes of his striking,
bronze-toned face. Mediterranean heritage? Native American, maybe? Unflinching
dark eyes stared back at her, giving nothing away about his intentions.

Interesting
. She never would have
guessed he’d have the balls to single her out like this, even though there was
no one else here and nothing on her clothing to give away her superior rank. She
licked her lips and arched one eyebrow in challenge, trying to figure him out.
He was damn good-looking, though she’d never admit it to anyone. “Those for
me?”

A faintly embarrassed expression stole across his face. “Uh,
no, ma’am. They’re for your friend, Ace. From Ryan.” His Texas drawl slid over
her senses like a slow caress.

Her other eyebrow rose to join its twin.
Even
more
interesting
. “So why are you bringing them to me?”
And how had he found her?

“Ryan got called to a briefing at the last minute. I went to
your hut, but no one answered when I knocked. Figured I might find you
here.”

If he knew to look for her here, he’d been watching her a hell
of a lot more closely than she’d realized. Normally that would have put her
hackles up, but he seemed pretty harmless.

With a half smile he held out the flowers, the gesture somehow
chivalrous. It suited him completely. She had to admit he was charming, and all
that muscle paired with those big dark eyes certainly wasn’t hard to look at.
“Will you give them to her?”

Maya’s mouth curved in amusement. “Be happy to.” Reaching out
to take them, she let her fingers briefly stroke against his on the transfer,
carefully gauging his reaction. For some reason she didn’t care to examine, it
pleased her to note the sudden leap of awareness in those dark eyes. But
something wasn’t adding up here. Suspicious, she narrowed her eyes at him. “Did
Ryan really pick these? Or did you?”

He held up both hands, palms out. “No, ma’am, Ryan did.
Honest.” The scent of wintergreen drifted into the air. Mints?

She tilted her head to consider him. Maybe she’d been too harsh
in her opinion of him. He seemed exactly the type to pick a woman a fistful of
flowers. Without a doubt he was a romantic. Despite the staring, his manners
were pretty much perfect, and from what she’d seen he always behaved like a
gentleman in mixed company. Why was he always so quiet though? It was obvious he
found her attractive, yet he never acted on it. Not even now, when he could have
flirted a little with no one else around. Very few people puzzled her, but this
man did.

Maya kind of liked the mystery of it. “Well, then. I’ll be sure
to tell her that.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, revealing a pair of endearing dimples
along with a flash of white teeth that made him appear far too young and
innocent for what his job entailed. Not for the first time she wondered how in
hell he’d made it into the realm of Spec Ops in the first place. Although she
had to admit there was definitely a leashed power about him, as though he was
conscious of keeping his strength in check, on the surface the man seemed way
too gentle for pararescue work. Yet there must be more to him beneath that quiet
image or he never would have made it through the Pipeline. It only made her more
curious to see what lay beneath that reserved and mysterious exterior.

He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave, because he was
still standing there. The quick flare of male interest she’d seen just now and
the few times she’d caught him watching her in the mess hall hinted at a wealth
of heat inside him. The possibility tantalized her.

Maya smiled again, assessing him in silence. Was this his idea
of flirting? In answer, the corners of his lips curved upward, a sensual warmth
entering his eyes.

Without warning, something unexpected and primal exploded to
life inside her.

She found herself inexplicably captivated by that stare, pulled
in by some invisible magnetic force. In that single charged moment, she glimpsed
the molten core inside him. Those dark eyes held a surprising amount of sensual
promise, and a whole lot more. Something darker and hotter that told her the
easygoing persona he showed the world was merely the surface of him. Oh, yeah.
When this man wanted something, he would go after it, and nothing would stand in
his way. How had she never noticed that before?

Damned if the thrill of it didn’t send a ripple of feminine
excitement shooting across her skin. The hair on her arms stood up in response
and her mouth went dry.

Taken off guard and annoyed by her reaction, Maya took another
swig of water to moisten her mouth and raised the flowers in her fist. “I’ll
make sure she gets them.”

Jackson nodded, a flicker of something—triumph?—entering his
eyes. “He’ll appreciate that. You take care of yourself.”

“Always do.”

With another grin that showed off those sexy dimples, he nodded
once. “Ma’am.” She had the feeling that had he been wearing a hat, he’d have
tipped it at her. Like an old-fashioned cowboy addressing a lady.

Maya could count on one hand how many men had ever treated her
like a lady and still have fingers left over.

Unmoving, still clutching the flowers, she watched Jackson
stroll to the door with his easy, rolling gait, those long, muscular legs
covering the distance with only a few strides. She couldn’t help but admire the
way his ass flexed with every step.

The gym door swung shut behind him, bringing another breath of
air scented with wintergreen. When she realized she was still staring after him
like a dumbstruck idiot, Maya berated herself and shrugged on her coat, careful
not to damage the fragile bouquet.

She had no clue what to make of Jackson or her unexpected
primal response to him, but it sure as hell would be entertaining to see how Ace
reacted to the flowers.

* * *

As soon as Candace parked the aircraft in front of the
hangar just before dawn and got the signal for shut down from the ground crew,
she pulled off her headset with a happy sigh.

Beside her, Major Ben “Dover” Harris turned in his seat with a
grin and held out a fist. “Another one in the books. At this rate you’ll have
more hours logged as aircraft commander than me in a couple of months.”

He was just being nice. Smiling at the teasing note in his
voice, she bumped fists with him. “Yup, I’m right on your heels,” she agreed,
unbuckling her harness.

“You eating chow with us this time?” he asked, climbing out of
the seat to stretch his legs and back.

“Thanks, but I’m going to grab a few hours’ sleep first.”

“Okay. See you at the mission brief then.”

“You bet.” Looking forward to some time in her bunk, she
climbed down from the cockpit and onto the tarmac after him. To the east, the
first hint of turquoise lined the jagged edges of the mountains, signaling the
coming sunrise. She stretched her stiff lower back and went in to file her
paperwork, then got out of her flight suit and into some sweats before heading
for her B-hut.

Carefully easing the door open in case anyone was sleeping,
Candace took in the scene. Maya was already up and showered, likely just
returned from another one of her punishing runs. Honor and Erin were both
asleep. She was tired but too wired to sleep, and God knew she could use some
exercise after being cooped up in the cockpit for almost twelve hours.

With a smile, Maya set down the book she’d been reading. “Hey,”
she whispered.

“Hey,” Candace whispered back. Taking a step toward her bunk,
she frowned when she noticed something on her pillow. When she got closer, she
stopped and stared in surprise before throwing an astonished look at Maya. “What
the hell is that?”

Her friend’s lips quirked. “It’s a bouquet.”

Well, duh. “From who?”

“If you can’t figure it out, I think I should keep ’em.”

She frowned. “So you’re not going to tell me?”

Chuckling, Maya sat up and cocked a brow. “Depends. Want me
to?”

“Yeah, tell me.” It could
not
be
Ryan. He wasn’t the flower type.

“Okay.” Those sea-green eyes danced with barely contained
laughter. “They’re from a certain irritating sergeant.”

Candace whipped her head around to stare at the flowers.
No
way
. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. That PJ who likes to stare at me tracked me down at
the gym to deliver them in person. Said Ryan got called into a last-minute
briefing and asked me to give them to you. He must have picked them out in one
of the valleys somewhere where the cold hasn’t killed everything off yet, ’cuz I
don’t know where else he would’ve gotten them.”

The bouquet was withered and a somewhat dull gold and brown
color, yet the sight of those fragile blooms caused a curious softness to unfurl
inside her. If what Maya said was true, Ryan had gone out and picked them just
for her. He’d made sure they were delivered by someone he trusted when he
couldn’t present them in person. That alone made them more beautiful than the
most expensive bouquet from any florist.

Despite how angry she’d been with him, she couldn’t help the
sappy smile that took over her face. The man had a knack for getting her back up
at every single turn, but he was trying to make amends and had obviously meant
that apology earlier. The thoughtful, romantic gesture touched her more deeply
than she would ever have thought possible.

“From the smile on your face, I guess the olive branch did its
job?” Maya whispered.

“I have to admit it’s a good start,” she answered just as
softly, still smiling as she picked them up to breathe in the sweet, slightly
musky fragrance. “You think it was really him?”

“His friend swears it was.”

Wow. Who would have thought Ryan had that kind of sweetness in
him? It was probably stupid of her, but that withered bouquet went a long way
toward making her forgive him. He must have picked them while on his way back
from a training op or mission and held them the entire time on board the helo.
His teammates would have had a field day with that one. The thought made her
smile even more.