Under Fire (17 page)

“Thank goodness. I’d like to pick up my dogs by tomorrow.”

“Um, I’m thinking more like a week.” Tires crunched along the rocky road.

“A week? I work. I have a job. I have… well, I don’t have plants or a house anymore.” She slumped in her seat. “My job doesn’t mean jack if I’m dead.”

“Smart woman.”

“What about Brandon?” Did he have any clue what kind of nightmare had been unleashed from their attempts to find help? Had she made things even more dangerous for him? “The same authorities you say we have to run from are already looking for Brandon. How are we going to get to him first?”

The headlights swept across a clearing in the palm trees, revealing a tiny, secluded beach bungalow. The one-story green stucco structure was raised up on stilts and had white hurricane shutters over the windows, shielding it from the elements as well as from prying eyes.

Liam killed the headlights. “Do you seriously expect me to believe you told them the truth on where to find him?”

Goose bumps prickled up her arms. “You think I lied to the authorities?”

“I know you did.”

She didn’t bother denying the truth. She had deliberately misled the OSI regarding Brandon’s whereabouts. “Are you angry with me?”

“I will be if you lie to me from here on out.”

“Fair enough.” She owed him the truth, given all he’d done for her. “After his therapy sessions, he works out for the rest of the afternoon. Sometimes he disappears for a day or two. So he leaves Harley at the same doggy day care I use.”

“Harley is his therapy dog?”

“An Australian shepherd–beagle mix.” Memories rolled over her of the day Brandon had been paired with Harley, the hope she’d felt then, how she’d allowed herself to buy into some rosy future where she fixed everyone’s problems. Where there would be no more risk. No more pain of loss.

Could she really have been that naive?

Liam unlocked the doors. “We’ll check in at the dog-sitter’s once we finish up here.”

Rachel gripped his arm, stopping him. “How would you know that I lied and they didn’t?”

His muscles flexed and bunched under her fingers, his eyes a little sad. “I didn’t know. I only suspected. Now I know.”

Turning away, he stepped out of the SUV. She clambered out to join him around front, Disco leaping out and running to the nearest squat sago palm tree to mark it. At least he opted for a tree instead of the neatly fenced-in vegetable garden.

Satisfied her dog was safe, she tore her eyes off Disco and did a quick scan of the locale, orienting herself. Marsh grass leaned in the wind blowing a briny breeze across the lawn.

Old skills fired to life. They’d driven southeast, maybe fifteen miles from base. The drive had gone quickly in the night but would undoubtedly take much longer during daytime beach traffic.

Snapping for her dog, she caught up with Liam along the slate pathway. “I wasn’t sure if they would toss Brandon in some military jail or lock him up for a psych eval. I just wanted a chance to get to him first.”

“How can you be so certain he doesn’t need to be in a hospital?” He pivoted hard to face her, bringing her up short.

She palmed his chest. Perspiration lightly dampened his T-shirt and dotted above his mouth. Her gaze sketched along the shape of his mouth as she ached to taste away the salty beads. His eyes locked with hers as he loomed a solid eight inches taller than her. Her body hummed with awareness, her pulse pounding in her ears as loudly as the waves beating against the shore.

Disco nosed her knee, reminding her where they were and what Liam had asked. “What I think about Brandon’s mental state is irrelevant right now in light of the fact we need to find him first.” She peeled her hand from his chest before she did something needy, like beg him to make this all go away. She was stronger than that and damned if she would be naive now. “After that, we can figure out the rest.”

“We’re on the same page then.” He backed away, waving toward the front door. “You met my team buddy Wade in the Bahamas, and now you’ll get to meet his wife, too. It’s best if we say as little as possible about what’s going on. I’ll clue Wade in on the pertinent details, enough to make sure there’s follow-through on solving this if something happens to us.”

Preparing for the worst? She rubbed her arms, which didn’t do a thing to ward off the goose bumps. “What should I say to them if they ask me about the situation?”

“They won’t ask.” He climbed the white wood steps leading up to the tiny landing in front of the door. “I just need to pick up my gear and we’ll hit the road before anyone knows we’ve left the base. Once they do, they’ll be looking for who we were. Not who we’re going to become.”

There it was again. That fuzzy area of gray he embraced so easily. Had she known this about him on some level even as she tried to think only of the civilian-rescue aspect, rather than the dangerous military missions? Intellectually, she understood that pararescuemen were trained in more than just saving people. She’d learned the basic history of the teams from meeting him, how they used to be called parajumpers—PJs—and that the name morphed officially to pararescuemen, even if the PJ nickname stayed in the culture.

They did far more than parachute in. They had to be prepared to fight back an assault that threatened their rescue target. She knew he was an elite warrior.

Knew that there were only about three hundred and fifty like him in the world.

Knew she should be grateful for all he was doing for her—and she was.

But oh God, what if they couldn’t pull this off?

Liam cupped her face. “Trust me.”

Trust?
There was that word again. That word she hadn’t allowed herself to consider when thinking of a man in so very long. His strong, callused hands felt familiar even after the months they’d spent apart. What a time to realize the tumultuous arousal she’d felt when they kissed and when he’d woken her, well, those feelings were easy.

The other feelings churning inside her, those were tough as hell. Because, God help her, she
had
learned to trust again after all.

***

Inside the entryway, Liam watched Rachel follow Sunny Rocha into the homey kitchen before he turned his attention to his teammate Wade. He hated to let Rachel out of sight. But she was safe here, and the two women were both already deep in conversation about their dogs. The Rochas’ malamute-husky mix was sniffing Disco. Wade and Sunny Rocha hadn’t even questioned their showing up an hour before sunrise. Sunny had waved them inside and offered to start a pot of coffee.

For now, Liam had a window of time to get his feet steady on the ground again, arm himself properly, and put together a solid plan. Wade angled his head toward the hall and led Liam past walls packed with framed photos of Alaskan landscapes and mountains. He pushed the door open to the spare room that doubled as a man cave in the two-bedroom bungalow. Uniforms showed in the open closet, his helmet and night vision goggles on top of a file cabinet.

Wade grabbed a T-shirt off the back of the desk chair and tugged it over his head to go with the low-slung sweatpants he must have stepped into on his way to the door. “You’re cruising late tonight.”

“I’m going out of town for a couple of days.” He hated putting Rocha in this position, but as long as he guarded his words carefully, there would be nothing said that compromised any of his teammates. He was their leader, their CRO—combat rescue officer. He didn’t want any of this coming off as an order. “If people come asking about me, tell them everything. Don’t hold anything back, thinking that you’re protecting me. I’ll be fine.”

“
If
someone comes asking for you?”

“I’m hoping things will be chill.” If Sylvia had been straight up in saying she had his back covered. He hadn’t discounted that she could be following some other agenda. Although he couldn’t fathom what she had to gain in making herself look bad by losing the people she’d been assigned to watch.

Liam dropped onto the black leather sofa. “If all’s well, then I’ve already been cleared off the schedule for the next couple of days and you won’t need to answer jack.”

“Does this have anything to do with the OSI interview earlier?” Wade sat in the office chair across from him.

Since Wade and Cuervo had been called in, giving them some of the lowdown wouldn’t compromise them as long as he stuck with what they could have overheard while standing in the hall with him.

“There’s a loose cannon out there, a lieutenant named Brandon Harris. He’s wrestling with PTSD and making some wild accusations. He says he’s got proof of a conspiracy set to play out at the satellite summit. His ramblings have stirred up a firestorm, and Rachel got sucked in when she tried to help.”

Wade whistled lowly. “Damn, brother, that’s serious stuff. No wonder the OSI is involved. And I assume you got pulled in helping her?”

“Turning away from Rachel is not an option.”

“Which begs the question… What are you doing
here
?”

“Don’t know who to trust on base. Until I do, I need Rachel tucked away safely.”

“Okay.” Wade nodded slowly. “I can buy into that. What do you need me to do?”

“Make sure the team stays on track with training for the security at the summit. I’m guessing they’ll loan the team a captain from one of the reserve PJ units until I’m back, but I need you to keep the guys unified, solid. Stay under the radar. Do not call attention to yourselves. My leaving is going to cause enough unseen ripples. We don’t need that coming to the surface.”

“What do I tell people about why you’re missing?”

“I’ve decided to take some time off with my new girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Wade’s black eyebrow slashed upward. “Are we back in high school or what?”

“All right, all right… You can make the wording sound cooler.”

“Shouldn’t be too tough, since everyone’s met her.” Wade grinned. “She’s a serious dime.”

“Dime?”

“She’s a ten. A dime, a ten piece. Like Gwyneth Paltrow and Kesha…” He leaned back in the office chair. “You
are
getting old.”

“Thanks.” Great. Just what he needed to remember right now.

“No disrespect meant, given your senior status.”

Liam gave up and laughed, a rusty sort of sound. How long had it been since he slept?

“I mean it when I say to be completely open if authorities question you. I don’t want to compromise you in any way. If Brandon Harris comes up at any time, feel free to say I’m as confused as the next fella about what’s going on. Never even met the guy. But again, be straight up if asked. I arrived, picked up some gear I’d stored in at your place when I moved here.”

“Like the gear I’ve got stored at your place?” There it was, the offer for more, for gear needed to fly under the radar for a while.

“Let’s just say Rachel and I have reunited after the Bahamas and are heading out to commune with nature for a couple of days. Thus the need for firepower. There are wild animals out there.”

“Fair enough.” Wade shoved to his feet. He rolled back a rag rug and pulled a key from underneath the desk. He slipped the key into a nearly undetectable groove in the wood floor. A spring popped and a trapdoor eased open to expose a safe built under the floorboards. Gun cases, ammo boxes, survival gear. “Take whatever you need.”

“Just my stuff stored here.” Liam knelt beside him, knees popping. “Pass me that, and I’m good.”

He lifted out a green duffel bag and hefted it over to the top of the desk. “You can take more from my personal stash. Might as well be better than good. No questions asked.”

“Thanks. But I want to make sure you’re armed as well.” And he didn’t want to cross a line. They would die for each other any day. That wasn’t something he would ever take advantage of.

He unzipped the bag and sifted around inside, inventorying.

Remington 308, a sniper rifle.

AR-15, a smaller assault rifle, easier to conceal.

Body armor.

Three sets of IDs.

Two prepaid, disposable cell phones.

And lastly, a Baby Eagle 9 mm, a smaller version of his Desert Eagle semiautomatic handgun. He would be passing the 9 mm to Rachel along with lessons on how to shoot it.

“Be alert. I wish I had more than that to direct you… I swear the minute I have something concrete, I’ll pass it along. You have to know I wouldn’t leave you in the dark unless there was no other choice.”

“Call me if you need anything.” Wade clapped him on the back.

“I won’t need you.” He slung the duffel over his shoulder. “But thanks.”

“Me? Hell no.” He laughed. “I’m talking about Sunny. That woman’s so resourceful, she can create a generator out of bubble gum and vegetable oil. She’s like an eco-friendly MacGyver.”

At least some guys got it right the first time. “She’s a keeper.”

“You don’t have to tell me. Enough of the sweet flowery love stuff.” He squatted down in front of the open safe again. “Let’s talk extra ammo.”

Rachel cradled a mug of coffee between her palms, killing time until Liam armed himself to the teeth.
Gulp. Ouch.
She blew into the coffee. “It’s beyond nice of you to let us just walk into your home in the middle of the night.”