Deadly Contact (23 page)

James ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly, bowing his head to stare at the floor. It was clear he was nervous, but why? He’d made his feelings clear, so what was left to say?

As the silence dragged on, Kelly realized she was going to have to prod him a bit to get him to start talking. “James?” she said softly. “I still have to finish packing.”

“Right.” He jerked his head up to meet her gaze and straightened his shoulders, a man preparing for battle. “It’s like this.” There was a faint rasp as he ran his hand over his chin, clearly searching for words.

“I messed up.”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“I messed up,” he repeated helpfully. “The night before the operation, when you told me about...about Gary, I messed up. Although—” his tone became thoughtful “—if you really want to get technical about it, I suppose the first time I screwed things up was the morning after we slept together.”

Kelly shook her head, not trusting her ears. “I don’t understand.”

“For starters, I should have gone after you,” he replied. “I could tell you were upset, and I should have made a point of finding out why and helping then, instead of letting you go without a fight. That was my first mistake.”

When she didn’t respond, he continued, “I told you about Steve, about how I had trusted him and been let down. When I found out you were connected to my investigation, I made the mistake of thinking you were going to do the same thing. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst when it came to you. I know you well enough to know you’d never do that, but I let my insecurities cloud my judgment. I’m sorry for that.”

Satisfaction was a warm glow in her chest. Even though it didn’t matter anymore, it was nice to have confirmation that he had acted like a jerk. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He nodded. “When I finally pulled my head out of my ass and recognized you weren’t involved, I was hopeful we could try again. I can’t tell you how good it felt to know you still had feelings for me, too.” His voice broke, and he looked down, taking a deep breath as if to compose himself.

Kelly felt a tug on her heartstrings at this display. James had always been so calm and composed—she’d never seen him look so vulnerable before. She ached to wrap her arms around him and pull him close, but she sensed he wouldn’t welcome her touch right now. She could tell he still had things to say.

He glanced up with glassy eyes, and he blinked several times and cleared his throat before speaking again. “And then I ruined everything.”

Kelly blinked back her own tears at this admission. She’d spent the past few weeks thinking James hadn’t understood how much his rejection had hurt her, but it seemed she was wrong. He did recognize that his words had cut her deeply. Another section of the wall she’d built around her heart crumbled.

“I don’t know how to apologize for the way I acted after you told me about Gary. I can’t imagine how difficult it was for you to tell me about that, and I pushed you away when I should have supported you. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

It took a few tries for her to find her voice, and when she spoke, it was thick with emotion. “It’s okay,” she said, stepping close to lay her hand on his arm. “I should have worked on my timing. I just kind of dropped it on you with no warning in the middle of another discussion. That wasn’t really fair to you.”

He covered her hand with his own, his touch warm. “Stop being so nice,” he chided, his mouth curving up in a teasing grin. “I’m not done prostrating myself yet.”

She let out a wobbly laugh. “There’s more?”

His expression turned serious again. “Oh, yeah. Do you have any idea how many years were taken off my life when Caleb took you, and then when I found out you’d been seriously injured?”

Kelly raised a brow at that. “It wasn’t exactly fun for me, either. I couldn’t think straight at all—I was so worried about you—”

“About me?”

She gave him a little shove. “Yes, about you! A bomb had just gone off, and the last I saw, you were on the ground covered in debris. I had no idea if you were still alive, if you were hurt, if anyone would know to look for you.”

It felt good to rail at him, even if the events in question had occurred weeks ago. She’d been carrying the stress ever since that awful day, and the release of all her pent-up emotion made her feel curiously light.

James reached up to push a strand of hair behind her ear. “The important thing is, we both made it out alive. And in the past few weeks, I’ve realized that I don’t want to go on living without having you around.”

Kelly caught her breath, not daring to hope. Was he saying...? Did he really mean...?

“I want you, Kelly,” he said, his voice whisper soft. “I love you, and I want to be with you.”

The words fell on her like warm rain, soothing and gentle, healing the cracks of her heart.

“I know you asked me to go,” he continued, rushing now. “And I will, if that’s what you want. But I wasn’t going to let you go without a fight this time, so here I am, telling you in no uncertain terms that I think we should try again.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off. “You don’t have to answer now,” he practically begged. “Take some time to think about it if you want. But I just want to say that I’ve learned from my mistakes, and if you take me back, I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

All her earlier doubts evaporated in the face of his declaration, and the love she’d deliberately locked away expanded to fill the empty space left behind.

A giddy laugh bubbled up as she gave herself permission to believe his promises. Never in her wildest imaginings had she thought she’d get a happy ending like this, but maybe that was her problem. No matter what her therapist said, she still had trouble believing she deserved to be happy.

Well, she wouldn’t think that anymore. No longer would she settle for second best or put herself down because she mistakenly thought it was the right thing to do. She was going to reach for her happiness with both hands, grab it tight and wrestle it to the ground so it couldn’t get away.

Starting now.

She stared up into the dark eyes of the man she loved, putting all her emotions into her smile.

“I love you, too,” she said, reaching up to lay the palm of her hand on his cheek. “Now let’s get started on our second chance.”

* * * * *

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Chapter 1

M
adison Duncan couldn’t still her
excitement. She wanted to see the Afghan horses near the house where she was
staying. She slipped away from the U.S. agricultural mission in the Shinwari
leader’s home.

Earlier, when she and the six men on her mission had been
driven in with their Marine Corps escort, she’d spotted a corral of Afghan
horses out behind the three-story mud-and-rock house. She was the horse breeding
expert on the humanitarian mission to help the Shinwari tribe improve their
horses. And now, Madison simply couldn’t wait any longer to take a look at the
animals.

Taking a side door, she quietly slipped outside. It was dusk,
the sky a cobalt dome above the valley ringed by the high Hindu Kush mountains.
Already, she could see stars so close that it took her breath away.

They were ten miles from the Pakistan border, and the Marine
captain, whose duty it was to keep this group of U.S. civilians safe, had told
her they were in the badlands. The area was heavy with Taliban and Al-Qaeda
activity and skirmishes. The captain warned her no one was safe without military
escort, even inside the five-foot mud wall that surrounded Lar Sholten, a large
village of two hundred people.

She could barely see through the semidarkness of the June
evening, the dust fine and rising around her knee-high black leather riding
boots as she headed toward a corral of rock and mud. Inside were about ten
Afghan horses.

Her heart quickened with anticipation as she pulled her denim
jacket a little tighter around her. At six thousand feet, the night air turned
cold, and she wished she’d brought more than summer clothes. At least her jeans
helped shield her from the dropping temperature. She just needed a good, bulky
winter sweater.

Some of the horses nickered as she walked up to the wooden
gate. Smiling, Madison put her hand over the chest-high wall, calling to them.
“Hey,” she cooed softly. “Come on over...” These were small horses, maybe
fourteen hands tall, sturdy with thick necks. Their heads still bore some
resemblance to their Arabian ancestors with small muzzles and short, fine ears.
A gray horse with a thick, scruffy black mane walked over. Madison had been told
that the Afghans always rode geldings. Tribal leaders were the only ones who
could ride a stallion. The mares were kept solely for breeding purposes.

She smiled and saw how large the brown eyes were on the gray
gelding. Scratching his ears, which he loved, she tried to look at the animal’s
overall conformation.

The Shinwari tribe had signed papers with the U.S., asking them
for help. Her father, John Duncan, owned a Trakehner stud farm in College
Station, Texas, and had been invited to go along. He’d broken his ankle and
couldn’t make it, and Madison pleaded successfully to be allowed to go in his
stead. She’d been raised with the Prussian warm-blooded horses that had a global
reputation for refining and improving any other breed of horse.

At last, she was here with these beautiful animals. She focused
on the gray horse and stood on tiptoes to look over at his legs. He had a short
back and fine-looking head, all reminiscent of earlier Arabian breeding.
Afghanistan, at least in the eastern portion, was nothing but rocky mountains
and desert, and the Arabian influence on these horses was telling.

She moved to the wood-slatted gate and knelt down, running her
hand down the animal’s front leg. He had a short, thick cannon bone, which was
good for mountainous areas. Surprised at how nice his front legs were, her mind
automatically went to the next step. Her job was to assess the horses and
determine what breed could improve them. The leader of the village had said he
wanted a taller horse because not all Afghans were short, although she’d seen
many who were.

It was getting too dark to see, but Madison stood there, her
arms wrapped around her body, listening to the soft snort of the horses inside
the corral. Soon, she’d need to return since she was alone and it was dark. The
U.S. mission was staying at the home of Timor Kahn, the Shinwari chieftain.
There, the Marine detachment would guard them twenty-four hours a day.

She looked up. The stars were now huge and hung so close that
she thought she might reach out and touch them. Madison heard the wind gusting
down off the mighty Hindu Kush. The valley was long and wide with a river
running through it. Everything seemed so peaceful. She noticed some of the
horses lift their heads, ears forward, hearing something she could not.

Madison thought it might be one of the Marine guards who had
discovered her missing and come looking for her. She’d probably get chewed out.
The Marines were jumpy and wary. Yet, as she absorbed the night sky and the
snort of horses, the place seemed so placid.

Suddenly, her world erupted. A strong male hand clapped over
her mouth. Madison was jerked backward off her feet. Her nostrils flared and a
scream lodged in her throat. She was slammed to the ground. Her head struck the
dirt with force, almost knocking her unconscious. She heard a hiss and an order
in a foreign language. Struggling, she felt a rag shoved into her mouth and then
tightened around her head so she couldn’t scream. Terror flooded her as she
tried to kick out at her unseen attackers.

Oh, God! Her mind shorted out as she felt her arms jerked
behind her back and rough ropes being looped around her wrists. The bindings bit
savagely into her skin and she cried out, the sound dying behind her gag.
Breathing hard, she barely saw faces. Men’s faces. They wore turbans. Their eyes
were filled with hatred. She was jerked roughly to her feet.

Madison tried to struggle. Someone threw a black wool hood over
her head, and she tried to yank free. The hands of the men propelled her swiftly
forward. She tried to fight, until one of her attackers slapped her. Hard. Her
knees almost buckled from the blow. Madison was half dragged and half carried
away from the house.

Nose bleeding, her cheek smarting and throbbing, Madison was
put up on a horse. She heard the mutterings of men around her. What was going
on? What was happening to her? A rope was looped around her left ankle and then
passed beneath the belly of her horse. Her right ankle was also tied.

Raw terror compelled her to try to cry out. She fought the
bonds holding her hands behind her back. Her legs were tied such that she
couldn’t lift them to kick the horse she was on. She was trapped.

In moments, she heard a flurry of action around her, and then
her horse lurched forward into a gallop. She nearly fell off, but yanked herself
forward, gripping the fleeing horse with her long thighs. She’d been
captured!

As they rode hard, the pounding of hooves thundered in her
ears. She heard a whip strike the rump of her horse. The animal grunted and
leaped forward, galloping faster. Tears jammed into her eyes. Oh, God, she
shouldn’t have left the house! She should have listened to the Marines! What was
going to happen to her? How could she get loose?

* * *

“Raven Actual, this is Raven Main. Over.”

Frowning, Petty Officer, 2nd Class Travis Cooper answered his
radio. He was in his hide, his .300 Win-Mag sniper rifle on a bipod searching
for an HVT, high value target, that was to come across the border. It was his
job as a SEAL to take the target out.

“Raven Actual,” he answered, wondering what was going down. He
didn’t get a call unless something went seriously wrong. He was in his hide five
hundred feet above the desert floor on the rocky slope of scree, waiting for his
HVT. Above, the stars glimmered and danced in the night sky.

“Be apprised an American woman, Madison Duncan, has been
kidnapped by the Taliban. We’ve got a drone watching the group’s progress toward
the border.”

Surprised, Travis scowled. An American woman? Out here? His
mind spun with a hundred questions. “Roger, Raven Main.” So how was he involved
in this?

“She has been kidnapped from the Shinwari village of Lar
Sholten, ten miles west of your position.”

He sat back from his position of looking through his Nightforce
scope. “Roger that, Raven Main.” And just exactly what did Lieutenant Brad
Scofield, his LT and head of Delta Platoon back at Camp Bravo, want him to do
about it?

“Raven Actual, you are the closest to where it appears the
Taliban is headed. They’re pushing though the night to make the border, so they
must have night vision capability.”

“Roger that.” Travis knew the U.S. military couldn’t throw lead
at the kidnappers. The bullets or bomb could kill the American woman, too. He
was beginning to see the handwriting on the wall. He’d been in his sniper hide
for two weeks, watching and patiently waiting for this HVT to leave Pakistan and
sneak across the border into Afghanistan. And it was his job to identify him and
take him out.

“Raven Actual, we need you to interdict this group of five
horsemen and take them out. It’s imperative Ms. Duncan be kept alive and
rescued. Over.”

Grimacing, Travis said in his West Texas drawl, “Roger that,
Raven Main. You got an ETA when they’re gonna come by my area?” Hell, that group
of Taliban could split off or ride elsewhere other than where he was. However,
Travis’s hide was probably one of the most perfectly placed for watching the
traffic across the border.

“Raven Actual, Master Chief Braden will be in touch with you as
this goes down.”

“Raven Main, what about dropping a couple of SEALs to apprehend
them?”

“Negative, Raven Actual. The minute they hear a helicopter
coming toward them, they’re going to scatter and hide in those caves. Right now,
we have drone eyes on them and they are moving toward the border.”

Well, hell’s bells. Travis scrubbed his face. “Roger, Raven
Main. Do you have an ID on this kidnapped American?”

“Roger, am transmitting to your laptop right now.”

This was not what Travis wanted. He couldn’t give away his hide
position. He’d been out in the mountains for weeks, hunting and waiting. “Hold,
Raven Main,” he muttered, leaving his sniper rifle where it sat and moving into
his hide. He grabbed his laptop, opened it up and then connected it via
satellite phone. It was the only way to receive or transmit pictures and other
intel. The screen was in low light mode so it couldn’t be seen by the enemy, who
were always in the caves around his hidden position.

The color photograph, a passport photo, of Madison Duncan
opened up. His heart jumped for a moment. She was young. He quickly scanned the
passport and other provided information. Blond hair, blue eyes, twenty-six years
old and from College Station, Texas. Hell, she was a Texas gal. That made this
more important to him because he was from Texas. And it didn’t hurt a thing that
she was damned good-looking. And single, according to the intel. Madison’s
shoulder-length blond hair had been streaked several shades and colors by the
sun. Her face was oval with a broad brow, high cheekbones and a beautiful mouth.
Yeah, that mouth could get him into a lot of trouble, and he smiled to
himself.

“Raven Main, you got anything else on the package?” Like, what
the hell was she doing out here in the badlands?

“Roger, Raven Actual. She’s part of a U.S. agricultural mission
to help the Shinwari tribe. Her father owns a Trakehner stud farm and she’s over
here to look at Afghan horses and suggest better breeding methods to the
tribe.”

Trakehners? Travis had heard about the breed but his
familiarity was with the quarter horses on his father’s ranch. “Roger that. How
did she get kidnapped?”

“According to the U.S. Marine Captain who was in charge of
protecting this group, she slipped out of the house at dusk. They found evidence
of a struggle at the horse corral.”

So, the Texas gal disregarded the Marine’s orders to stay with
the group and remain guarded. Travis shook his head. Sounded like a Texas gal to
him, all right. Strong minded, stubborn and, as a result, kidnapped. “Roger
that. You said five horsemen?”

“Roger. All carrying AKs. They’ve got her bound and hooded.
She’s riding in the center of the group and can’t possibly escape on her
own.”

No, Travis imagined, she sure as hell couldn’t. He felt sorry
for her, but he also felt anger. If the woman had trusted her Marine contingent
she wouldn’t be in this fix.

“Any idea of what they’re going to do with her?”

“No. Our best guess is they’re going to move her into Pakistan
and, most likely, demand a ransom.”

Travis sighed and quirked his mouth. “Either that or sell her
as a sex slave.”

“That, too,” Lieutenant Scofield said.

Which was why she had to be rescued, Travis thought.

“Any idea who’s got her?”

“Roger. Hill tribe members, from what we can ascertain.”

Great, the hill tribe with Khogani leading it was constantly
making war against the Shinwari. Both claimed the Khyber Pass area. And that was
the only route between Afghanistan and Pakistan.

“Roger that.” Travis sighed. “That means I’m probably going to
give away my hide, LT.”

“Yes, it does.”

“
If
I can spring her loose from
those bastards, I’m on my own. There’s Taliban crawling all over this area. You
won’t be able to get a Night Stalker helo down here to pick us up. I’m going to
have to gun and run with her until I can get out of this immediate area.”

“Understood.”

“Keep me updated on their progress and location.” To Travis,
this was looking like a FUBAR of the finest kind. There were thousands of
Taliban and Al-Qaeda crisscrossing this border area. It was a hotbed of activity
and one couldn’t just drop a helo into it because the enemy would see it, fire
on it and, most likely, destroy it. No,
if
he could
rescue this damned bull-headed Texas brat, it meant being on the run for days,
possibly, before an extrication mission could be called to get them out of this
area.