Hawk (The Quiet Professionals, Book 2) (6 page)

The SEAL next to him glared.

Dude. Get a grip
, he mentally chided the frogman. Uptight, fish-out-of-water guys tended to get grumpy on land.

“So, it’s connected to the SCIFs we were chasing all over creation five months ago.”

Bent forward, elbows on his knees, Captain Watters looked primed to blow.

“Wait,” Falcon said. “What’s the proof on this?”

Commander Riordan swept a piece of thin bread around the hummus before tucking it in his mouth. He chewed, clearly savoring the fact that an SF team was waiting on him. “About a month ago, a team of Rangers went into a location. No sooner did they touch down than they were set upon. RPGs took out their vehicles.”

No exit
.

“Then snipers took them out, one by one. IEDs went off.” Riordan, dark eyes probing the men gathered around him, seemed in his element. “Ramsey sends us in to bring them home. By the time we get there, nobody’s alive.”

“It was a calculated, systematic ambush,” one of the SEALs—the one who constantly rammed his shoulder against Brian’s—said. “Never seen anything like it.”

“Then you”—Riordan pointed to Raptor team—“are lured into a location believing brothers-in-arms are under heavy fire.”

Brian bit back the urge to defend their actions.

“The coms chatter,” Falcon said.

“Anyone who heard it would make the same call.” Brian nodded. “That’s what was off with that chatter. It was perfect. Exactly what they knew it’d take to get us out there, against orders and alone.”

Riordan was on the edge of his seat now. “Absolutely. And that’s what they want.”

“Who?” Brian asked simultaneously with Captain Watters.

“Whoever got into the system.”

“They’re in.” The captain shook his head. “That’s…”

His captain wanted to say it was impossible. That someone would’ve told them. In fact, Brian saw those thoughts in the eyes of his entire team—Harrier, Titanis, Eagle, and especially Captain Watters and Falcon.

“They’ve pulled back nearly every SOCOM team. Black ops have been ordered on high alert, even strongly advised to RTB.” Riordan dumped back a glass of water.

“Why is Command keeping this under wraps?” the captain asked.

“Because if this leaks out that someone got in—we are screwed.”

Churning in his gut pushed Brian to his feet. He wanted to punch someone. Hurt someone for this. Taking down the American military. The sheepdogs. “I’ll be back.” He headed to the restrooms, needing to move. Needing to walk off the frustration of feeling like a sitting duck. Or worse—a dog on a leash being led into trap after trap.

After he relieved himself, he scrubbed up, watching as water swirled down the sink. All their efforts, all the carefully negotiated alliances with Bedouins and farmers. Locals. What little trust they’d built, Raptor would now have to question. They’d have to vet who they
could
trust. SOCOM and JSOC would have to adjust protocols. Reel in their embedded operatives, if that hadn’t already been done. But why…
why
didn’t Burnett give it to them straight?

“You done?”

Brian blinked and caught the smirk of that SEAL in the mirror standing behind him. “If I was, I’d move.” He again scrubbed his hands with soap. Patted water on his face. Grinned at the SEAL. Then ripped off a paper towel, dried his hands, and slammed the towel in the trash. Muscles taut, he waited—
expected
—the guy to shoulder-butt him again.

Only when he stepped into the hall, one that barely allowed a guy to breathe let alone walk, did Brian release that anticipation of a fight.

“Sergeant Brian.”

The firm, sweet voice tugged him around. Brian pivoted, surprised—
pleasantly
surprised—when Fekiria Haidary emerged from the semidark corner near the exit.

“May I talk to you?”

He held out his hands—accidentally bumping someone. After a hurried apology to the bystander, he redirected his attention to her. “I’m all yours.”

A half smile and a chin tuck either spoke of her timidity—heck no; there wasn’t a timid bone in this woman’s body—or frustration. “I must ask a favor of you, Sergeant Brian.”

“Just Brian.”

“I must ask that you…” She wet her full lips and her gaze slid to his right.

He glanced back to gauge the trajectory of her gaze and spotted Raptor and the SEAL team.

“I must ask that you not tell anyone you saw me here.”

Brian folded his arms. Curiosity filled his mind with a bank of data and possibilities. But the one that bugged him the most made it past his lips. “Afraid someone will find out you’re dating an American?” She’d been awfully cozy with the buzz-cut Airman who smelled of officer.

Irritation twitched her left cheek. “You know I would never do that.” She lowered her eyes but couldn’t hide the flash of anger from him. “I don’t know why I thought I could trust you—”

“Whoa.” He caught her arm as she tried to slide past. “Hold up there, chief. Don’t question my character. If you don’t want anyone to know, what’s it to me?”

A flicker of a smile made it to her face as wide, wary eyes considered him. Slowly, the tension knots smoothed from between her eyebrows. “Thank you.” Quietly, she eased around him.

Brian wouldn’t let her off that easy though. “One condition.”

Suspicion crowded her expression as she hesitated, waiting. But not speaking.

“Tell me what you’re doing here with them.”

“That’s not your business.”

“You’re right, but this business that isn’t any of mine—you’re asking me to be secretive about. I need to know it’s all legit, that you aren’t getting into something that could hang my butt out to dry.”

Her lip curled. “Just like an American—only worried about his own interests.”

Man, the chick had some heated issues with Americans. “Hey, what
interests
me is you, and you’re here. But you’re afraid I’ll say something.” Brian glanced at the captain, knowing she feared somehow something would be said to the captain and it’d get back to her cousin. “I’m a guest in your country, but if I’m caught in some mess because of a promise I keep—and I will keep it—then you and I are going to have problems.”

Fekiria closed the distance a bit. “If I swear on my life that this is nothing that will endanger you, is that enough?”

Cinnamon. Something else. She smelled like Thanksgiving dinner. And she looked good, even in this dim lighting. “ ’fraid not.”

Her chin lifted. How Muslims thought that a woman wearing a hijab kept them from tempting a man, Brian had no idea. Because the woman in front of him, her hair and neck concealed beneath the silky fabric, was doing a serious number on his memory. Like remembering local women were hands off. That Captain Watters would have
his
neck in a noose.

But he sure wasn’t standing down because of a little competition. The wusses at the front of the bar had the look and smell of officers. He could take ’em.

Warning buzzed at the back of his mind. One more tangle and the captain might make good on his threat to bust Brian down a rank or two. Maybe discharge him. Was this girl worth it?

He didn’t know anything about her except her name, a passing familiarity with her family, that her cousin was dating his captain, and she had killer eyes—and lips. Yet for all he knew, she could be plotting some serious scheme to take out Americans.

Nah. She might spew her American hatred easily, but he didn’t see the darkness in her eyes necessary for such a campaign.

“Listen.” After a glance back to the officer she’d left, Fekiria once again slipped into the shadows of the small hall, pulling Brian around so he had his back to the team. To danger. He just wanted to know if she had the hots for that guy. Was that what she wanted his help to cover up?

“What you must know—”

“Hawk!” A boisterous voice erupted from the side as someone slapped him on the back.

Brian rounded, indignant when he met the gaze of the SEAL who’d ridden his case since they met in the motor pool.

“What do we have here, Sergeant?” The SEAL angled around and grinned broadly at Fekiria. “Whoa, soldier. You are going all out. This is one fine woman.”

“Hey.”
Keep cool, keep cool
. “Go on back to your frogmen, Schmidt.”

Fekiria shrank against the wall.

“I like this scenery better.” He touched Fekiria’s cheek. “Afraid of some competition, Hawk?”

At the touch, she jerked back with a quick intake of breath.

Heat spread across Brian’s shoulders. “Stand down.” He would not—
not
—get into a fight. Not here. Not right in front of Captain Watters.

“Easy there.” Schmidt laughed. “You can’t keep them all to yourself.” He took her arm. “We’re here to protect and serve, aren’t we?” His smile turned into a sneer.

“No.” Fekiria tugged back, trying to wrest free of the SEAL.

“Let her go.” Brian tugged Fekiria out of Schmidt’s grasp and stood between them, knowing his large frame shielded her. What ticked him off most was that this SEAL had been begging to pick a fight with him, and he chose to do it with Fekiria in the middle. Piece of dirt! “Beg off, Schmidt. Move on. Back to the group.”

Challenge lit the guy’s dark eyes. “You first, Gee-Bee. Isn’t that your motto—you lead the way?”

Was the guy still in high school? That was the Ranger’s motto. All this guy wanted was to goad Brian. Rather than make his point with a fist, Brian worked his jaw muscles, struggling against the storm brewing in his gut. No way would he walk away and leave Fekiria with this jerk. “We were having a conversation. It’s not your concern.”

“Hey, why don’t you let the lady speak for herself. She might want me, a real man who can show her a good time.” Schmidt crowded toward Fekiria.

Brian’s blood boiled. “Hey! Enough.” He nudged the SEAL’s shoulder back.

“Hands off, Green Beret.” The threat, the hunger for a fight, lurked in the words. Then that stupid, sloppy grin honed in on Fekiria again.

She took a step back, defiance clear but also no small amount of fear. “If I wanted you,” Fekiria said, “would I be talking to him?”

The fear she exuded tipped things toward “bad” with Brian. No woman should feel threatened like that. “Guess you heard for yourself. She doesn’t want someone wet behind the ears and inexperienced.” Again, he angled in between them, feeling Fekiria’s hands on his back. The position pinned her in a corner, but he’d rather have her there than within reach of the slimy webbed hands of the frogman.

“Warned you once: hands off.” Jaw jutted, eyes narrowed, the challenge was clear. “You want a fight with me, fine. But grow a brain and leave her out of this.”

A greedy gleam hit the man’s brown eyes. “You want a fight?”

No. No. Any other day, he would’ve shown this punk his knuckles, up close and personal. But…Captain Watters.
He’ll run you up the pole so fast…
“What is with you, man? How did you even make it past the psych team in BUD/S? Treating a lady like that, stepping in on a guy—you sure don’t have honor.”

The punch flew hard and true with a string of expletives that would singe the ears of more reputable sailors.

Brian’s teeth rattled as his neck snapped back. Pain radiated through his head and neck. The weight of the punch threw him against Fekiria, who pressed her hands against his deltoids and whimpered.

Adrenaline spiraling, Brian lunged.

“Agreed.” Dean Watters roughed a hand over his face. If what Riordan suggested tonight held true, they were in a deep vat of boiling water. “I’ll do the same.”

Riordan gave a crisp nod. “It’s some kind of messed up when—”

Crack!

Dean pushed to his feet and pivoted as he glanced over his shoulder. A tangle of bodies broke a table. Glass shattered. Guests scattered amid screams and the telltale thuds of fists.

Sal Russo thumped a hand against Dean’s shoulder.

No need. Dean saw the six-foot Hawk haul a shorter, wiry guy to his feet by the collar.

Riordan cursed. “Knew it.”

Dean shoved forward as Hawk drove his fist into the SEAL’s face, who responded by throwing one of his own then slamming his shoulder into Hawk’s abdomen. The two went spiraling backward, Hawk’s fist pounding.

Built like a linebacker, Hawk hammered the guy. The SEAL somehow flipped Hawk. Pinned him and sliced a hand-blade against Hawk’s side. With a howl of pain, the demon within Hawk roared to the surface. Lightning-fast reflexes—so fast Dean wasn’t sure what happened—sent the SEAL flying.

Hawk dragged himself from the ground, holding his side, growling.

Titanis lunged, catching Hawk in a full nelson, giving Dean time to get in front of his guy. “Hawk! Stand down!”

Blood dribbling down his lip, right eye swelling, Hawk breathed hard but still struggled. The demon was blind to common sense. Only feeding off the fury within.

Dean got into his face. Eye to eye. “Stand down,” he growled against the din behind them. “You with me, Hawk?”

Green eyes flickered, as if stepping from some nightmare to a calm mind. He gave a sharp nod, and Dean met Titanis’s gaze with a signal to release him. “Get him out of here,” Dean said to Titanis and Sal, who led Hawk out.