Lethal Pursuit (2 page)

Maya waited with her arms folded across her chest and her feet braced apart, a half smile on her face as he approached. Part of her was surprised that he’d seek her out publicly after their last meeting, but it didn’t bother her. She didn’t give a shit what people thought or said about her. She’d learned a long time ago not to let that sort of petty crap bother her. Besides, she had a solid rep here with the Security Forces. Her superiors liked her work ethic and dedication. No one would dare accuse her of fraternization with an enlisted if she talked with Jackson here, and she was too smart to get caught if she decided to take things further with him after this.

When he was close enough to hear her, she shook her head slightly in admonishment. “I didn’t know you could sing or play piano.”

He gave a modest shrug, stopping a step away from her. “You know what they say about us PJs. Jack of all trades, master of none.”

She liked his self-deprecating style. Most men she knew went the other way, straight into arrogant asshole territory. He was a welcome change from the chest-beating, alpha male machismo she was so used to dealing with. “Are you part of the concert tomorrow?”

Up close he was even more gorgeous and smelled delicious—a combination of fabric softener and wintergreen. His tan skin held a bronze undertone, maybe from some Mediterranean ancestor. The cut of his high cheekbones hinted at possible Native American ancestry too.

He rubbed a hand over his strong jaw, covered with a few days’ worth of nearly black stubble. It made him look rugged and intensely masculine. Sexy beyond words. “Naw, I’m just helpin’ out to make sure the sound system is working right.”

“Maybe you should reconsider. Looks like you’ve already got quite an enthusiastic fan base.” And groupie base if he wanted one, she thought with a surprising bolt of jealousy.

He ignored the comment, that keen, dark gaze zeroing in on her right cheek. “So, what’s with the shiner?”

She raised her battered right hand to touch the sore spot, now stinging under a new rush of blood that had her whole face turning hot. She never blushed. What was wrong with her? “It’s nothing.”

“Whoa.” Frowning, he caught her hand in a firm but gentle grip before she could pull away. Maya’s pulse leaped, warmth radiating up her arm from the innocent contact. He’d never touched her before, had never attempted it. Not even when he’d had her against that wall and there’d been no one around to see them, and even though he must have known she’d wanted him to.

Maya glanced down to where he cradled her hand in his larger ones. They were broad, long-fingered, the nails clean and short. Strong but gentle hands, capable of saving a life or taking it, depending on the situation. For some reason she found that extreme contrast sexy as hell. Her heart thumped hard against her ribs while she did her best to appear unaffected by his touch. She wasn’t sure how to read the situation. Was this his idea of an olive branch? An unspoken truce?

“You’ve been fighting.” He tsked.

“Comes with the territory.” His touch felt way too good. She should pull away. God knew she’d thought about him far too often in the past few weeks, wondering what might have happened if he’d made a move on her instead of walking away. She would have wrapped around him and kissed the breath right out of him, buried her fingers in that thick, dark hair. He kept it cut to regulation length, even though he could get away with relaxed grooming standards because of his position as a battlefield airman. It said a lot about his personality.

Raising his head, Jackson gave her a speculative look, a hint of amusement gleaming in his eyes. He lifted one dark eyebrow. “Just what’ve you been doing to yourself, Lieutenant?”

He was only holding her hand and it was still enough to play hell on her nervous system. “Nothing.” Tingles raced from her fingertips to her shoulder. What would happen if she kissed him? Leaned up and pressed her lips to that full, tempting mouth inches above her own? She mentally shook herself. “Just a few angry insurgents and a resistant drunk. But hey, you should see the other guy.”

One side of his mouth curved upward at her attempt at humor. “Yeah, I bet you pack quite a punch.”

The admiration in his voice warmed her inside. She’d fought all her life to earn respect from others, especially men. From what she’d seen, Jackson was all about giving women respect. She had no experience with that sort of man.

He wasn’t done with his inspection yet. He ran his gaze over her once again, and this time she was certain it held more than the clinical attention of a trained medical professional. Though the masculine interest was subtle, it brought more of that unnerving tingling in its wake. He still hadn’t released her hand. “You hurt anywhere else?”

Why, was he offering to look her over? She almost laughed. “No, I’m all right. No broken bones, so I’m good to go.”

“You sure about that? Two of your knuckles are pretty swollen and bruised.”

“I’ve broken plenty of bones. Trust me, my hand’s fine.”

“Is it?” Studying her reaction, Jackson gently probed at the painful joints with his thumb, applying careful pressure until she had to fight back a wince.

Okay, so maybe the bottom knuckle of her middle finger had a crack in it or something. She stayed still, kept her expression neutral. “See? Just bruised. No big deal.”

“If you say so.” The look in his eyes told her he wasn’t buying it. Discomfited by his genuine concern, she pulled her hand away and he let it drop. It bothered her that she immediately regretted the loss of his touch.

Jackson set his hands on his hips and studied her like he didn’t know quite what to make of her. The move emphasized the breadth of his chest, the way his olive drab T-shirt pulled taut over the heavy muscles of his torso. His defined biceps flexed below the short sleeves. The man took
very
good care of himself. She liked that too. “If I asked nicely, would you go get an X-ray on that hand?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Not even if I walked you over there?”

“Nope, not even then.” Maya hated hospitals. She only went if she was in desperate shape, like that time when she hadn’t blocked a kidney shot and wound up peeing blood. They hadn’t been able to do much for her anyhow.

A faint smile spread across his face as he shook his head at her stubbornness. “That’s what I figured, but you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“True.” His sweet concern was proving an almost irresistible lure. No man had ever treated her with half the consideration this one did, and she barely knew him.

“Well, if you’re sure I can’t talk you into going to the hospital, I should head back.”

To the other side of the base, where the Spec Ops compound was. “Okay. I’m glad I heard you sing, by the way. I enjoyed it. You’re really good.”

He smiled, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Thanks.” A small silence ensued, and when she didn’t fill the void, he nodded once to acknowledge the conversation had come to an end. “Well. Guess I’ll see you around then.”

“Oh, you can count on it,” she replied. Pivoting, she left him to chew on that parting shot, the image of his startled smile fresh in her head. And even if it made her cheek hurt worse, damned if she wasn’t smiling too.

Chapter Two

Khalid looked up from his map when Mohammed burst into the room and announced, “They’re here.”

He stood and followed the teenager out into the bright sunshine. Squinting to cut the light, his gaze settled on the small convoy of trucks winding their way down the mountain road toward the valley floor. He smiled. “Perfect.”

“Should I get the others?”

“Yes. Tell them to unload everything.”

Mohammed scurried off to carry out the order. A few minutes later the trucks ground to a halt where Khalid stood at the edge of the village.

The passenger in the lead truck climbed out and approached Khalid with a huge smile. “My brother.”

Khalid awkwardly accepted the greeting hug. He disliked forced physical contact. “Tell Rahim I thank him for his gifts.”

“You can tell him yourself when you meet him in person.”

His attention sharpened on the man’s beaming face. “You have news for me?”

“Something big. He has written it here.” The man pulled a wax-sealed envelope from his vest pocket and handed it over.

Quickly breaking the seal, Khalid scanned the document written in Urdu. His heart rate increased with a surge of excitement. “Rahim knows this for certain?”

The man nodded. “The location isn’t known yet, but Rahim’s source has always been reliable and accurate. He’ll let us know when the time comes.”

Khalid couldn’t hide his smile. “The American Secretary of Defense?” Could it be true?

“I know. It’s what we’ve all been waiting for.”

No, it was what Khalid had been waiting for his entire
life.
This chance, if it really came, was something he’d dreamed of since he was a boy growing up during the Soviet occupation.

Back then he’d been too young and too crippled by the disgrace of his shameful parentage to even contemplate conducting such an important mission one day. But now, with the right planning, he would be able to achieve every Afghan boy’s dream of humiliating the infidel superpower occupying their homeland. If he and the others handled it right, it might even help turn the American public’s opinion of the so-called War on Terror once and for all. Their president would have no choice but to finally withdraw all American forces from the region.

Then,
then
they could celebrate the sovereignty of the Afghan people and take the fight to the enemy’s shores, where it belonged. Not like before, with sporadic and poorly planned attacks on small targets. A new, deadlier and well-organized war that took many American lives and struck fear into the hearts of the American people. One waged relentlessly with endless attacks wrought on American soil by soldiers of Allah from far and wide. But especially by martyrs already living among the enemy. People no one would ever suspect until it was too late. That was where the future of this war lay.

Pulling a lighter from his pocket, Khalid lit one end of the letter and let it fall at his feet, watching the licking flames curl over the paper, devouring it. With Allah’s grace, he and the others would do the same to their enemy within a few months. “Tell Rahim I look forward to our meeting. It will be an honor to meet him in person finally.”

The man clapped Khalid on the shoulder. “I will tell him. Now, where shall my men take all these supplies?”

Khalid walked to the first truck, where several men were opening the canvas sides to expose the crates filled with food, medical supplies, clothing and weapons. Pistols, automatic rifles, grenades, RPGs. And ammunition. Lots of ammunition. Everything he could ever need to carry out a campaign in the region. He let out an ironic laugh. Throughout the winter his numbers had dwindled. He’d lost some men to the cold, others to their homes and villages. Now, with these supplies, he’d be able to feed and equip dozens, maybe as many as a hundred or more new recruits.

Mohammed came trotting over, a wide grin on his boyish face, partially covered with the scraggly beard he was trying to grow. “Praise Allah,” he said as he saw all the equipment.

Khalid nodded. “Have the men stock everything in the caves, quickly. I don’t want anything to be visible from the outside.”

“Of course, Khalid-jan.”

Khalid smiled fondly at the boy, feeling almost fatherly. Mohammed was his most trusted soldier, teenager or not. Khalid had done everything he could to protect him over the past few months, teaching him to survive, and to kill. He set a hand on Mohammed’s shoulder, patted it. “You’re ready.”

The praise turned the tops of Mohammed’s cheeks red. “Thank you.”

Letting his hand drop, he gazed up into the clear blue sky, filled with renewed energy. “No, Mohammed, thank Allah.” For it was by His grace that Khalid would slay the demons from his past and embrace the future bright with purpose and possibility.

* * *

Maya opened the gym door and stepped out into the cool air, chugging a bottle of water on her way back across the base. Today’s workout had been especially intense, but she’d needed the release despite her sore right hand and other bumps and bruises. Her quads felt weak and her abs were still on fire, and she freaking loved it. With her self-inflicted torture done, she now had her weekly Friday morning date to keep.

Her little friend, Fila, was waiting for her in their usual meeting place. Maya smiled and raised a hand in greeting when she saw the eleven-year-old girl at the fence. Fila waved back, shifting a young child about three or so on her hip whom Maya had never seen before. “
Salam alekum
,” Maya called out.

“
Alekum salam
,” Fila answered softly, a shy smile on her young face. The boy on her hip clung to her, regarding Maya with suspicion in his teary eyes. His little cheeks were flushed an unnatural shade of red.

Something was wrong. “Is he sick?” She pointed at him then put a hand on her own forehead and stomach, made a sickly face.

Fila nodded. “Brother.”

She’d brought him here for treatment, Maya realized. Fila had walked miles and miles from her isolated village, carrying her brother here in the hopes that Maya would help. Her family, as usual, was nowhere to be seen. Maya wasn’t about to abandon these children too. She gestured with her arm for Fila to follow her around the fence’s perimeter. “Come on.”

At the gate she spoke to the guards and received permission to bring Fila inside. The Friday market always made everyone on base a little edgy, especially since that rocket attack back in November that had killed several service members and wounded a dozen more. Security had tightened considerably since then, and procedures for the market had changed.

Fila followed her inside the base. Maya flagged down a passing vehicle to hitch a ride so her little friend wouldn’t have to walk across base after her long journey. Fila hesitated, her gaze uncertain. Had she never been in a vehicle before, or was it the soldiers inside it who made her nervous?

“Come on,” Maya said again, giving her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay.” She waited until Fila climbed inside the vehicle before sliding in next to her. Her brother sat perched on her lap, his flushed, chubby cheek nestled into the curve of Fila’s neck. “What is his name?” she asked slowly.

“Salar.”

Maya shifted her gaze to the boy. “
Salam
, Salar.”

His glassy eyes focused on her, his expression guarded. Maya understood too well what it felt like to be at the mercy of others. Even those who were supposed to take care of you. These children had more reason than most not to trust people. She’d make sure no one here abused that trust.

The driver stopped at the hospital to let them out. Maya led Fila inside and spoke to a few of the staff. A few minutes later Maya’s other roommate, Erin, appeared with a clipboard, her brown hair twisted into a bun.

“Hey, who have we got here?” she asked, aiming a gentle smile at the children.

“This is my friend, Fila, and her little brother, Salar. He’s not feeling very well, are you, buddy?”

He didn’t respond, but his lethargy said it all.

Erin made a quick note on her paper. “Come with me so we can get them set up in an exam room, and I’ll have a doctor come by as soon as possible.”

Maya ushered them into a room after Erin and shut the door. Both children gazed around the room with wide eyes, their anxiety palpable. “It’s okay,” Maya said again, this time catching Fila’s gaze. The girl seemed to relax a fraction. “Her English is about as good as my Dari, so this should be interesting. Don’t suppose you’ve got an interpreter on staff?”

“No,” Erin replied, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck and offering it to Salar so he could examine it, “but the doctor I have in mind has a pretty good handle on Dari.” She showed Salar and Fila how the stethoscope worked, even allowing them to place the earbuds in their ears and listen to Erin’s heartbeat.

When they smiled and seemed to be enjoying themselves, Erin gestured for Fila to raise her brother’s shirt. His little tummy was distended and looked hard. With him nestled on Fila’s lap, Erin did a quick exam, taking the basic vitals and finally coaxing the little boy to accept a thermometer under his armpit. After writing all the information on a chart, she spoke to Maya. “He’s got a pretty good fever going. I’ll get the doctor to come as soon as he can.”

“Okay, thanks.” While they waited, Maya used hand gestures and her limited Dari to entertain the children. Salar began to warm up to her slowly, even offering a toothy grin once or twice. The doctor arrived a few minutes later. His easy smile and basic grasp of Dari seemed to reassure Fila enough to allow him to take Salar and place him on the exam table. After another thorough assessment and some questions to Fila, the doctor glanced over at Maya.

“I’m going to need some blood and urine samples.”

That should be fun. “Why, is it serious?”

“Not if he gets the right treatment, but I want to rule a few other things out first just to be sure.”

The urine sample was easy enough. Salar thought it was hilarious to pee into a cup. The blood sample, however, didn’t go so well. In the end, Maya had to pin the child down while Fila held his free hand and stroked his hair, speaking to him in a calm voice. A sudden memory slammed into her brain. Of her sister taking care of her during that awful, violating exam after their uncle’s nocturnal activities had finally come to light. The tenderness Fila showed her brother reminded Maya so much of Pilar, a hard lump formed in her throat. She quickly swallowed it down and pushed the painful recollections from her mind before they could tear into her.

Samples in hand, the doctor left the room and returned a half hour later with the news that Salar had a bacterial infection that required IV antibiotics. That procedure didn’t go so well either.

Two hours later with tears drying on his cheeks, a bandage on the back of his hand and a lollipop in his other, Salar was ready to go home. Fila had a little vial of pills for him, and the doctor checked twice to make sure she understood how the medication was to be administered.

None of them could get out of there fast enough. Stepping outside, Maya pulled in a deep breath of air, that uncomfortable pressure in her chest easing the moment she exited the hospital. After grabbing Fila and her brother something to eat, Maya took them back toward the main gate. Salar was getting sleepy, and Fila was obviously tired too. Maya held out her arms and gave Fila a questioning look. The girl immediately handed her brother over. Maya expected him to squawk but he never made a sound, just looped his arms around her neck and settled his head on her shoulder. Her heart squeezed at the feel of him nestled against her.

On the way across base, they spotted a group of soldiers playing soccer with some local kids. Salar craned his head around to watch. The ball hurtled past the players and bounced toward them. Maya paused as it rolled near her feet.

“Hey, little help over here?”

Startled by that deep Texas drawl, she glanced up into a familiar pair of smiling dark eyes. He wore a bright orange Texas Longhorns ball cap.

A sharp pang of excitement flashed through her and her heart rate picked up as she turned around fully to face the man who’d haunted her fantasies these past few months.

* * *

Jackson grinned at the flare of shock in Maya’s eyes and set his hands on hips as he waited for her to respond.

“You have time to run soccer clinics?” she asked in that Latin-tinged accent he was coming to crave the sound of.

He grinned wider. “Now and then, yeah. Who’s that with you?” He indicated the two children with a jerk of his chin.

“Friends of mine.” She made the introductions, and Jackson stepped closer to offer his hand to them both. Fila shook his shyly, blushing and avoiding eye contact, but Salar quickly buried his face deeper into the curve of Maya’s neck. Not at all offended by the rebuff, Jackson smiled. He knew from personal experience just how good Maya smelled up close. The lotion or whatever it was she used was scented with vanilla and the tart bite of tangerine. He’d love to lean in and nuzzle the side of her neck to get more of it, but the boy was getting to enjoy it instead.

She shifted Salar on her hip. “We’re just leaving the hospital. Poor little buddy has an infection that needed some needles. It wasn’t fun.”

“Sorry I didn’t see you earlier. I’d have been happy to help.”

She looked started for a moment, as though she wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Thanks, but we managed okay.”

“I’d say you did better than okay. They both seem pretty attached to you.” And damn, that maternal side looked good on her, too, confirming what he’d suspected about her all along. Beneath that tough exterior lay a big heart she didn’t seem to want anyone to know about. He’d bet that very few people ever got to see that softer side of her. What would it take for him to earn her trust, get her to let him in that far?

Maya glanced down at Fila’s hand twined with hers and smiled a little. It softened her whole face and lit the pilot light on Jackson’s protective instincts. “Yeah. We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we, guys?”

This had to be the girl Maya tried to protect the day the base had come under attack in November. Ryan had told him Maya had charged the fence to shout instructions to her young friend. Apparently Maya had stayed there through automatic gunfire to make sure Fila was okay, only moving when Ryan had forcibly ripped her away from that fence and hauled her behind cover. Jackson had no difficulty whatsoever imagining her standing her ground to protect the girl. Maya might be a badass, but he was on to her now. There was so much more to her than that tough-chick image she preferred to show the rest of the world.