Tangled Pursuit (10 page)

Tal shook her head sadly. “Their customs really work against them sometimes, don’t they? And I guess you’re trying to indicate, very subtly, that there might be a mother in labor today. Am I right?”

“Yes.”

“I can handle that, no problem. It would actually be a nice change of pace for me.”

“When are you going back out into the Hindu Kush for more missions?”

“I’m working with my recon team tomorrow at our office,” Tal told him. “As their CO, it’s my job to set up missions and get them under way. I’ll only be here for about three days at most, and then I’m going back out into the mountains again.”

“Doesn’t your boss ever raise hell that, as a captain, you’re not staying behind your desk doing the paperwork and coordinating like you’re supposed to, instead of going out with your team?”

Tal grinned. “I hate desk jobs, Wyatt. I need a lot of fresh air, nature, and sunshine. I’ve proven to Major Dickenson, who is heading up both sniper units here at Bagram, that I can be a reliable CO to my recon unit and still go out and hunt HVTs.” Her voice grew harder. “Taking down one HVT means stopping one more sick bastard from coming into Afghanistan and making these villagers’ lives miserable.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Wyatt said quietly, seeing the fierceness come into her eyes. “Matt once told me that you three are fifty percent American, forty percent Turkish, and the last bit in your family is Greek. I was wondering which gene pool runs you.”

He saw the warrior in her recede a bit.

“Matt’s the one who’s into our family tree, not me. He loves genealogy, and our uncle Ihsan is the expert on the Turkish side of our family tree. Our cousin Angelo is keen on it too, so he takes care of the Greek side of it.”

“But who are you more like?” he asked. Wyatt could look at her slightly tilted green eyes and the shape of her face and feel she was working off her Turkish blood. He could have been wrong, but he didn’t think so. “Or,” he teased lightly, “maybe I should ask who you take after: your father or your mother?”

“My father, most definitely. Matt and Alexa take after our mom.”

“Your mom is a mix of Turkish and Greek blood?”

“Yes, she is. I think Matt leans strongly toward the Turkish DNA. He gets those beautiful gold-brown eyes from the Kemel family. Alexa absolutely takes after the Greek. She’s so much like Cousin Angelo she could be his daughter.” Tal gave him a wistful smile. “I look like my father with my black hair, but I have green eyes from my Mom’s Turkish side.”

“You see yourself as your father’s daughter?”

He saw Tal hesitate and then shrug. “Yes, I take after him in many ways. I guess I favor the Texas-American side of our mixed-genes family. I love the outdoors and nature, and I need that fresh air just like Dad. Like me, he’s not happy in an office. Unfortunately, my dad is stuck in the Pentagon, which he hates, so he spends time outdoors whenever he can escape.”

Wyatt’s brows rose with surprise. “Your dad is a Texan?”

Giving him a sour look, she said warily, “Yes, he is. Born in Houston, Texas.”

“He’s kin, then,” Wyatt crowed with a wide grin. “I didn’t know that! Well, hey, you and I are kindred spirits then, Tal. Fifty percent of the blood runnin’ through your veins is Texan. How about that?”

She saw the glee and teasing in his voice and eyes. Wyatt actually looked surprised and very pleased with that tidbit of family information. “That doesn’t get you anywhere with me, Lockwood, so just don’t go there. Okay?” She’d said it lightly, partly in jest, because he appeared absolutely delighted that she had Texas blood in her.

“No, ma’am, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he chuckled, giving her a warm look. “But I’m sure not gonna treat you like my kid sister, either, so you need to know that, too.”

Giving him a deadpan look, Tal said, “You’ve
never
treated me like your sister.”

“Good thing,” Wyatt said, watching her smile a little. He was seeing her wariness toward him melt a little more. “But Texans do have this connection with one another, no matter where they live in the world. Not everyone can be one, you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “My dad says the same thing. He’s very proud he was born in that state.”

“Were you born in Texas too?”

“No, all three of us kids were born in Kuşadası, Turkey. My mom insisted on it. She wanted us to be born on the same soil she was born on.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Wyatt said, “Even though you say you take after your father, and I’ve never met your mother, I’d lay any kind of a bet you got your exotic looks from her.”

Tal tried to ignore his rasping comment, which felt like an invisible caress. His charisma was affecting her far more than she wanted it to. Uncomfortable, she said, “I’m surprised Matt hasn’t shown you photos of the whole family. He keeps them in his weapons locker.”

“Well, we’re usually out gunnin’ and runnin’ on ops together. We get very little downtime here at Bagram to chat about our family tree and such. But I’ll sure make a point of it next time I see him. We need to celebrate our Texas blood.”

“You two, Matt says, are thicker than thieves.” She managed a half smile. Wyatt perked up and preened. On another man, it might have looked arrogant, but his good-ol’-boy attitude made Tal’s heart open up to him. She’d never seen another man ever be as vulnerable and open as Wyatt suddenly was with her. Tal wondered what would have happened if Wyatt had shown this side of himself to her a long time ago. She had a gut feeling that she wouldn’t have been running away from him as she had. Rather, she would have run toward him. The warmth and genuine sincerity banked in his gray eyes and expression threw her big-time. She was used to dealing with game-faced operators, not someone who wore his emotions and heart on his sleeve for her to see.

“Matt and I are close,” Wyatt agreed with a half smile. “But now that I know your dad is a Texan, he really is kin.”

Chuckling a little, Tal murmured, “You and Matt are very similar in personality—laid-back, easygoing, with a good sense of humor.”

Cocking his head, he said, “So? Is that a good thing or a bad thing in your book?”

Tal felt him feeling her out, trying to go deeper into who she was. His sincerity caught her off guard. She could feel that solidness and groundedness that was always a part of Wyatt. “It’s a good thing in my book,” she said. She saw Wyatt nod, a pleased gleam in his eyes, as he studied her.

“How are you going to handle being CEO of Artemis Security? Matt’s been telling me about it,” Wyatt said, finishing off his coffee. “Won’t you be pretty much deskbound?”

She sighed. “I know. It’s the only part of it I don’t like, but Dad’s building it inside an 1850s farmhouse, about twenty miles outside Alexandria, Virginia. There are plenty of back roads I can jog on to be in nature. Plus, he’s putting in a fully equipped gym on the first floor for all the employees, and I’m sure I’ll be down there working out.”

“It sounds like a state-of-the-art building with all the latest bells and whistles money can buy. Plus, it’s no small thing that your dad and his brothers are all in the military. You can potentially get intel through their networking and resources, if needed. Right?”

“Yes, Dad is actively working within the Pentagon network, and he’s making more connections through all the military branches, letting them know we’re going online within a year.”

“Sounds like an idea whose time has come,” Wyatt said. “Matt was saying that pretty soon, when you’ve handed over your commission and you’re at Artemis, you’ll be a key player as the CEO. You’re the right person for that, Tal. You’ve got a lot of experience as an officer here, and managing people is second nature for you. Sounds like the right place, right time.”

He saw her grow quiet, staring down at the cup in her hands. He liked that she didn’t answer right away, instead thinking through things carefully. Then again, she was a sniper with a sniper’s mind, used to sorting out all the details before making any movement or decision. He enjoyed watching her, feeling her mull over his question and give it serious thought. It was just one more facet of her personality that he appreciated.

Tal placed her mug on the table and looked over at Wyatt. “I think being a CEO runs in my whole family’s DNA. My entire family, because of its financial resources, has always been aware of the needs of those who have less. My cousin Angelo, on my Greek side, was telling me about how, in the twelfth century, his family began his shipping business. It was backbreaking work and involved a lot of sacrifice, plowing money back into the business to build more ships for their growing fleet. I think they’d be stunned to see it today; it’s the second-largest shipping fleet in the world.”

“You know, Matt once told me that in the twelfth century, the Kemel family pretty much started out the same way. They were just poor Turkish sailors who decided to band together to own their own ship. Was that a coincidence?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some kind of cosmic synchronicity at work. I find it fascinating that in the twentieth century, the Kemel family’s shipping company, Artemis, ended up with Delos and our Greek family through marriage. At the trunk of our Turkish family tree were poor sailors who worked hard to support their families, keeping them from starving to death and dreaming of a day when their children might have more security than they did. My family has been bred from hard work. The money you see today is a result of their remembering their poor roots. And the members of my family who work at the shipping company are perfectly aware that it could all go away if one generation of the family lacked that inborn philosophy.”

“I think those two bloodlines definitely tie into you being the CEO of Artemis Security. Don’t you?”

“Well,” she admitted, “I do feel the responsibility of it all. All three of us kids were taught by our parents, uncles, aunts, and grandparents how to hold ourselves accountable.” She smiled a little. “In a sense, Artemis had to be created, because the world has gone on a global terrorism footing. I love the idea of working covertly to help our many charities, as well as putting security on board all our ships. And honestly? I’m so glad Matt and Alexa are going to be there with me. We all get along well, we respect one another, and we bring different tools and experiences to Artemis. I feel these will make the company even stronger in the long run. In a way, they’re all CEOs in their own right, too. We work well together.”

“So you’re saying responsibility has never scared you,” Wyatt offered, and watched her eyes flare with amusement.

“No, I’m used to the horse’s harness,” Tal admitted dryly. “Funny, Alexa and I were just discussing the same theme this morning over at the chow hall.”

“You seem very serious about it. Why?” Wyatt saw her fidget a bit, a sign she was uncomfortable. He also noticed a slight pursing of her ripe, full mouth, one he was eager to taste sooner, he hoped, than later.

“Do you always ask all the right questions?” Tal said, studying him intently.

“I don’t know. Do I?” Wyatt teased. Tal wasn’t going to answer his question, and he realized he’d hit a tender spot. Wyatt didn’t think she realized how much she gave away to him. He wasn’t about to tell her, either. He needed every advantage so he could understand her better and keep that door propped open between them.

“That’s the onion in you,” Tal said, a faint smile ghosting her lips. “You have so many layers, so much depth, and I realize now you were hiding a lot from me. You’re like a psychiatrist. You know people and their modus operandi far better than they will ever realize.”

“Don’t you think good managers always have that skill set?” Wyatt asked. “I know you do. And as chief of a SEAL platoon, it’s absolutely essential for me to have those tools in place.”

“I suppose you’re right, Wyatt. It’s just that your legend here at Bagram was less . . .
flattering
. . . and I was working from what I heard about you.”

He grunted. “Yeah, well, base gossip is a bitch. I hope you’re looking at me differently now.”

“I’m starting to. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”

He looked at his watch and stood up. “Well, I have nowhere to go but up, then, right? Hey, speaking of going up, are you ready to fly?” He held his hand out toward her. Wyatt saw her stare at it, then decide to ignore it. He allowed his hand to drop to his side and walked to the door, opening it. Wanting to laugh, but wisely not doing so, he stepped aside as Tal walked through the entrance of the briefing room and out into Ops, toward the doors leading to the helicopter outside of it.

She was conservative by nature, careful, studious, and missed no details. The good news was that Tal remained open to him, as curious about who he really was as he was about her. They’d just had a very good chat, and Wyatt barely felt his boots touching the highly polished white-and-green tiled surface as they wove their way through Ops to those exit doors.

His focus shifted forward to that Shinwari village they’d be flying into. Wyatt was looking forward to seeing how Tal interacted with little Rahela, the child whose prosthesis they were bringing along this morning. He was betting that a whole new onion layer of Tal Culver’s would be revealed, and he, for one, could hardly wait to see it happen.

T
AL FELT HER
heart burst open with so much joy as she watched Rahela take her first tentative steps with her new prosthesis in place. They had arrived near 0900, the morning coolish, the sky cloudless. The black-haired girl with sparkling brown eyes and a heartbreaker smile made Tal grin. Her mother was shadowing her, hands near her daughter’s small shoulders, but allowing her to walk proudly on her new leg.

Across the table from her, Wyatt was dealing with a crying two-year-old boy, his anxious father hovering nearby as Wyatt carefully examined the thin tyke between his latex-gloved hands.

Rahela’s laughter made Tal feel giddy, and she had to laugh too, from the pure joy of having helped make this child happy. The girl confidently walked around, delight written cross her small features. Tal caught her mother’s gaze for a moment and saw tears in the woman’s eyes.

Tal rearranged the green scarf she wore over her head, smiling along with Rahela’s mother as the girl broke into an awkward trot with her new leg. The village had about a hundred and fifty people living within the five-foot mud and rock walls built around it. There were two entrance/exit gates that were opened at sunrise and closed and locked at sundown. The men of the village, except those with sick male children, were out in the fields that surrounded the village on three sides. It sat near a river, the water siphoned off into hand-dug ditches to irrigate the corn, the wheat, and the newest crop, soybeans, brought in by U.S. forces.