Targeted (Firebrand Book 1) (33 page)

Perspiration trickled down his forehead. He blinked and resisted the urge to wipe at the salty sting it produced in his eyes. Concentrate. Focus on the mission. Ahmed had to show himself sometime. 

At that moment the door to the largest hut opened and Ahmed Ohakim stepped outside. Giving a big yawn, he stared up at the sun and stretched his arms above his head. Colt didn’t know why he hesitated before pulling the trigger, but he did. This was his first glimpse in person at the elusive rebel leader, and he wanted to see what it was that produced such a fanaticism in his followers who considered him god-like.

Ahmed wore no shirt, and the leopard’s paw tattooed at the top of his right pectoral muscle appeared to ripple across the top of his chest. With his black skin gleaming in the sun, he looked like a statue that had been carved from a piece of onyx. He appeared so vulnerable standing there, his eyes closed and a slight smile pulling at his lips as the morning breeze rustled in the trees.

To see him so relaxed and oblivious to the fact that he was experiencing the last minutes of his life, one might mistake him for a simple, African farmer instead of the sadistic monster he was. Under his command over the past few years Nu Macan Tentara had swept the country murdering thousands of innocent men, women, and children while kidnapping young boys to turn them into gun-wielding soldiers in his army. In reality these children who became the front guard of his marauding rebels only served as cannon fodder. If ever there was a monster, Ahmed Ohakim fit the description.

As if he was welcoming the new day, Ahmed took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and stared into the distance. Colt pressed his lips together. It was time.

He took the shot.

Chapter 1

Dallas, Texas

Six Years Later

Sloan Mayfield pressed the band-aid to the girl’s arm and smiled at the child. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it, Gabriella?”

      
The girl shook her head and returned the smile. “You never hurt me, Miss Mayfield. I’m glad you came to work at our clinic.”

“I am, too. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have gotten to meet you.” She glanced over her shoulder at the girl’s mother and smiled.

The woman smiled back, but Sloan knew that she, like so many of the Hispanic parents who brought their children to this clinic, spoke no English. The children were another matter, however. Thanks to the bilingual programs in the schools and the children’s immersion in American culture, they picked up English right away. For the parents it was much more difficult.

Sloan’s job with a national organization that provided temporary placement for nurses on leave had allowed her to travel all over the country, but this clinic in a Dallas low income area had become special to her. She loved the children who came here for treatment, and she respected the parents for the better lives they were trying to give their children. Most of them were immigrants from another country. From what she’d seen, the fathers were hard-working men who wanted to provide for their families, and the top priorities of the mothers were their children’s education and health.

“Gabriella,” Sloan said as she pulled an information sheet out of the cabinet, “tell your mother that I’ve given you the latest dose of the DTaP. This medicine will protect you against tetanus, diptheria, and pertussis.” She handed Gabriella the paper. “This is a list of side effects that you may have from the shot—pain, fever, nausea, just to name a few. Can you read this to your mother when you get home?”

Gabriella took the paper and glanced over it. “Yes. I know all the words.”

“Good,” Sloan said and winked at her. “I knew a smart, eleven-year-old girl like you could read it.” 

      
Gabriella smiled, and it reached to her beautiful brown eyes. “You’re so nice, Miss Mayfield. All the kids like coming to the clinic since you’ve been here.” Her smile turned to a mischievous grin. “Especially since you give free ice cream cones.”

Sloan arched her eyebrows in mock surprise. “So that’s why I’m so popular? It’s the ice cream.”

Gabriella laughed and shook her head. “No, but we do like it.”

Sloan gave an exaggerated sigh of resignation and pulled one of the free ice cream cone coupons from the pocket of the lab coat she wore. “Then it’s lucky for you I have one left for my last patient of the day. Tell JoAnne over at Cakes and Cones to give you a big scoop.”

Gabriella took the coupon, stuck it in the pocket of her jeans, and hopped down from the exam table. “I will. And thank you.”

“Gracias,” the mother said and smiled at Sloan.

She smiled in return and watched as the two exited before she busied herself setting the room to order. The night cleaning crew would arrive in an hour or so, and she wanted to be gone before they got here.

When she had everything back in place, she stepped into the hall and headed toward the nurse’s station. Trisha Mills, another RN in the clinic, glanced up from the computer where she was studying a patient record and arched an eyebrow. “It looks like you and I are the last ones here today. Again. The doctors left about an hour ago, and Dorothy signed out right afterwards. I thought she might get to the parking lot before they had a chance to get their cars started.”

Sloan couldn’t help but laugh at Trisha’s sarcastic tone. It hadn’t taken Sloan long after starting work at the clinic to realize that their receptionist was going to be out the door the minute the doctors had all left no matter whether it was her quitting time or not.

“What about you?” Sloan asked. “Are you about ready to leave?”

Trisha nodded. “I’m beat. This has been the busiest day we’ve had in weeks. I hope my husband has supper ready because I’m not cooking tonight. All I want to do is soak in a hot tub and get in bed.”

Sloan rubbed her hand over her tired eyes and nodded. “I hear you. That sounds like a plan.”

Trisha rose from the desk chair and started to switch off the computer, but she glanced back up at Sloan. “Do you need to do some work before you leave?”

Sloan nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got a few records I need to update before I leave. So just leave it on.”

A slight frown pulled at Trisha’s eyebrows. “You’ve been staying after hours a lot lately. You’ve been here for six months now, and I know you haven’t been out and met anybody yet. Just say the word, and I can remedy that.”

Sloan rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t start again about fixing me up with your husband’s brother. I’m not interested in dating anyone. Besides I’ll be moving on to my next assignment in a few weeks, so there’s no need to start a friendship that’s not going anywhere.”

Trisha tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips. “You’re such a good nurse,” she said. “Don’t you ever get tired of working for a company that sends you all over the country to do short-term leaves for nurses? I’d think after a while you’d want to settle down in one place.”

Sloan shook her head. “My father was always changing jobs when I was growing up, so I’m used to moving around. I doubt if I’ll ever be able to put roots down anywhere.”

Trisha stared at her a moment as if she was going to argue the point, but then she shrugged. “I guess you know what’s best for you. If you change your mind about meeting my brother-in-law let me know.”

“I will,” Sloan said as she sat down in the chair Trisha had just vacated and began to log in.

Trisha turned and walked to the break room off the station area where Sloan heard the sound of her locker opening. A few minutes later she returned, her purse hanging on her shoulder, and stopped beside Sloan. “It’s my turn to bring coffee in the morning. One sugar and two creams, right?”

Sloan nodded. “That’s it,” she said as she scrolled through Gabriella Mendoza’s record. After a moment she realized that Trisha hadn’t left but was still standing beside her with a sober expression on her face. “What’s wrong?” Sloan asked as she glanced up.

“We really do work well together, Sloan. I’m going to miss you when you leave for your next assignment. I wish you’d take that permanent job they offered you and stay on here.”

Sloan’s stomach churned, and she swallowed before she swiveled around in the chair to face Trisha. Her gaze raked her friend’s face. As much as she wished she could explain the reasons to Trisha why she chose to stay in a job that kept her on the move, but that wasn’t an option. Her recruiter was the only one who knew where she was at any time, and that information was confidential. She intended to keep it that way, too.

She leaned back in her chair and smiled at Trisha. “I’ve really enjoyed it here, but I can’t stay.”

Trisha tilted her head to one side and stared at her. “What about a life outside of work? Don’t you ever want to get married?”

This was the question she always dreaded when the time drew near for her to leave an assignment. She’d developed a standard answer long ago, and she recited it as if by memory. “Some people aren’t meant to be married. I like my life the way it is, and I don’t need somebody else to complicate it.”

Trisha frowned and shook her head as she didn’t believe her. “Well, I hope you’ll stay in touch with me after you leave.”

Sloan wanted to assure Trisha that they could talk on the phone and text or email from time to time, but she knew that wouldn’t be the truth. When she left, her ties here would be broken, and the people she’d come to know wouldn’t hear from her again.

Instead of saying what she was thinking she just smiled and turned back to the computer. “I don’t know why we’re talking about this now. I haven’t gone anywhere yet.”

“You’re right.” Trisha glanced down at her watch and gasped. “Oh, I need to get going. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said as she turned toward the exit at the back of the clinic. “You go on home, too. You shouldn’t be alone here. Not in this neighborhood.”

“I’ll leave in a few minutes,” Sloan called after her. “Carlos and Miguel will be here soon to clean. I want to be out of their way when they get here. Lock the back door on your way out, will you?”

“Sure,” Trisha said as she headed down the hall toward the rear exit. When Sloan heard the door close, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. It had been a long day. She was tired, but the conversation with Trisha had upset her more than she’d let on. Every time her personal life was mentioned she felt a moment of panic.

She leaned over, crossed her arms on the desk, and laid her head on top of them. Five years ago she’d cried so much that she thought she had no more tears to shed, and yet from time to time she found herself spiraling back into the dark place where she’d once been. It happened every time she began to get comfortable in a place, like she was here in Dallas. That was a signal that it was time to leave. Time to start over again.

After a moment she sat up, wiped at her eyes, and stared at the computer monitor. As if by their own will, her fingers moved to the keyboard and began to type into the search engine. A voice in her head yelled at her not to be stupid. No good would come of looking, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to see.

The website popped up on the screen, and she sucked in her breath. There it was in big, bold letters. 

THE FIREBRAND TRAINING CENTER

A State of the Art Training Facility for Military and Law Enforcement

A 5,000 Acre Compound Located in the Mountains of North Carolina

For a moment she let her thoughts drift back to the time when Firebrand had been the dream of Reese Alexander, Ash DeHan, and Colt Hanson. Ex-military brothers in arms with a crossed sword and torch tattooed on their right biceps, they had wanted to do something special for their country, and they’d accomplished it by becoming highly-skilled secret operatives for the CIA.

She still shuddered at the missions they’d carried out— recovering hostages and kidnapped victims, searching out and destroying terrorist groups, and penetrating enemy territory to perform surprise attacks. All done off the grid and unofficially authorized by the government. They’d thrived on the adventure and the danger, but the women in their lives had suffered because of it. She should know. She’d been one of them.

Since then they’d left their dangerous lifestyle behind and opened this facility to pass on the things they’d learned to military, government, and law enforcement agencies. From the looks of the site the venture had been very successful.

She pulled her thoughts back to the website and tried to concentrate on what she was seeing, although she didn’t really need to. She practically had it memorized. Each time she pulled it up she told herself she was only opening old wounds, but she couldn’t help herself. She was drawn to it by some force she couldn’t control. Once again she read about the facilities, the tactical and weapons training offered, security management instruction, as well as close quarter and sniper training.

Her heart lurched. There it was. Sniper training. She’d known this was what she wanted to see. Not the website itself, but the information about marksmanship instructor Colt Hanson, the man who had been one of the most decorated snipers in the military, the illusive Gray Feather as he had come to be called on his top-secret missions for the CIA.

Colt Hanson, the man she’d met and married in Africa, the man she’d loved with all her heart, and the man whose assassination of Ahmed Ohakim had ruined everything between them. She should have known better than to think she could live in Colt’s world. With the brothers of Firebrand, the mission, not family, always came first.