The Protector (8 page)

This was a new side of Jazz, Vivi realized, the side that was
responsible for his men. Before he had been alternatively wicked and teasing, cajoling and even macho, when it came to protecting women and children, but this was the Jazz Zeringue that she had read of in those files, the one with the ribbons and badges. He was a warrior through and through. She wondered whether this was the real him. Soldiers. Slash and burn. Take and destroy.

“Yes, I do see your apprehension. However, I can try to convince you that I know what is involved and how to operate within the framework of a field operation. Is that fair for now?”

“Fair, yes, but war isn’t about fairness.”

His curtness grated. He was already assuming that she knew nothing about warfare. Her eyes narrowed slightly, even as she willed herself to relax.

It’s all about power, she repeated to herself. It’s all about who had the knowledge.

Vivi leaned forward a little, as if she was sharing a secret. “You’re right, Lieutenant Zeringue. War isn’t fair. The rules we learned go out the window the moment bullets start showering down on you. And yes, women in combat isn’t about war but fairness, but the arguments against this issue are moot. There aren’t any
known
women in the front lines today. I don’t intend to argue it with you or”—she paused and looked around, making eye contact, keeping her voice low and confidential—“anyone here in this room. All I care about is for you to know that I’m in charge of one big part of this operation and under no circumstance can you deviate from my orders there. The extraction is mine and mine alone. Your orders, coming from Hawk or Lieutenant Zeringue, concern your mission outlined by Admiral Madison, and on that I’ll count on your skills and all your team knowledge. On that I’ll have very little say. I promise to get out of the way when the right moment comes. Now is that fair?”

Some of the men nodded. Vivi turned slightly to her right. Hawk was leaning against a console, a quirk playing on his
lips. She knew that he was the one who initiated this test. He hadn’t said a word for or against her thus far. She arched a brow at him. His gaze didn’t waver. The golden gleam in his eyes was predatory. The silent challenge in them was unmistakable. It was dinner or nothing. She would have to be the first to blink.

Vivi nodded. “Fair, Lieutenant Commander McMillan?”

“Yes,” Hawk replied immediately, smoothly.

But there were two different teams in the room. Two different leaders to deal with. She turned to the other one, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jazz sitting in the back, with that lazy deceptive sprawl, playing with the pencil in his big hands.

His silent challenge was just as unmistakable. It was dinner or nothing. Vivi wasn’t a GEM operative for nothing. She had been trained to handle men. She gave a slight nod, chin going a little higher at the amusement that suddenly lit up the blue eyes.

“Fair, Lieutenant Zeringue?”

“
Oui
, Mademoiselle Verreau,” he drawled, jabbing his pencil playfully at the papers in front of him.

Vivi felt like cracking her knuckles. “Good, then let’s get down to business. I plan my operation on the basis of the KISS principle. In short, back to basics. You do what you know best and you let me do what I do best. This is a direct extraction, so timing is very precise. Look at the map and photos behind me, please. This is your terrain. You’re going to be transported there at night. Follow SOP.”

“Are you going to be making the decisions or will you be radioing back and forth to a phantom command for orders?” one of the men asked.

Vivi decided to counter drollness with drollness. “Do you stand around and wait for orders while attempting a DE?”

Direct extraction was a short-term seize and destroy, damage and capture operation. The members of a team must complete it with exact precision, or they risked failure. Fail
ure could mean loss of opportunity, and probable loss of lives. There wouldn’t be any time to consult with anyone while the operation was under way.

At the silence, Vivi nodded and drove the point home. “This is a joint mission and I’m just as unfamiliar with your methods as you are with mine. I need you to put aside your prejudices and get this job done. Believe me, if my side didn’t need you, and if the admiral didn’t need my cooperation, we wouldn’t be in this together. We’re mainly contract agents, not very good at following military procedures. We don’t play with red tape. We do have military training, please don’t misunderstand this point, but we don’t”—she paused, noting with satisfaction that she had their full attention for the first time—“have the same culpability.”

“Meaning?” Hawk questioned.

Vivi stood up. Power was in letting others think they had it. She smiled grimly. “We like to think we’re the best at what we do. If I die, no one outside my agency will give a damn.”

Jazz wasn’t a male chauvinist. Far from it. His
maman and sisters made sure of that. He had grown up loving the way the women around him gathered forces in their own little wars and won them by the oddest ways. He and his brother were skilled in the ways women manipulated men. His eyes narrowed as he studied the lone female in this underground room, listening to her words and noting her body language as she gave instructions like a pro.

Vivi Verreau was halfway to winning the wills, if not the hearts, of the men in the room. Including, he noted, his best friend Hawk. He hadn’t liked the way she kept calling him by his name while addressing him as Lieutenant Zeringue. He was used to Hawk getting women; Hawk was like catnip to them—they saw him; they had to have him. Jazz pushed the point of the pencil into the pad. Damn it, why must Vivi be seduced by those weird eyes, anyhow?

That Admiral Madison had approved of this joint mission was pretty telling. It meant he had enough confidence in Vivi and her group to allow his own SEALs to be under her command. Jazz hoped she wasn’t going to think that she would have total command of the operation. He doubted Hawk would go that far, even to get a woman. He himself wasn’t even sure what to think yet. He knew Hawk would fill him in
regarding what the admiral had told him, so he would withhold his apprehension until then.

A direct extraction was no easy matter. It involved lives. If it were just some search and destroy mission…but they would have no need of Vivi Verreau then. Any SEAL team had the capability of creating a lot of destruction without any female help. He eyed the woman leaning against the table, admiring her long legs. Oh yes, she knew what she was doing—every male in the room was thinking of those same legs running in camouflaged pants with them. She hadn’t convinced them that she was capable of being on a mission with them yet, but she had certainly caught their imagination with her very solid knowledge, her sound answers, and those luscious legs.

Jazz jotted down notes for later discussion with Hawk. Dragan Dilaver—what was the SEAL team’s main objective with the guy if he weren’t the subject of direct extraction?

He looked at the “overhead” imagery, the photographs of all altitudes of the target area. They had plenty of time to do a run-through of the mission, and he looked forward to comparing strategy with Hawk. They had done this before. Only thing different this time would be an additional teammate. A female.

He looked at Vivi again. Not just any female either. This woman was very comfortable working with men, very good at putting the opposite sex at ease. It was this element and the earlier display of her dislike of all things military that intrigued him more and more. She didn’t want to go on a date with him, yet he felt she had been very close to actually admitting to liking him. And now she had skillfully gambled and agreed to have dinner with two soldiers just to make a point. How far was she willing to go? And what was she up to anyway?

In film noir, a woman of mystery had a secret arsenal. Jazz was beginning to believe his playful analogy was becoming more and more genuine by the moment.

“I have to leave for another appointment soon. Tomorrow
we’ll brainstorm strategy.” Vivi concluded the Orders, giving them the time of the next meeting. “Your commanders will now take over and fill you in on the rest of your operation. I’ll sit in the back and if you hear me leaving, it’s not because you guys are boring me, okay?”

She smiled winningly, and Jazz could almost hear the dark sexy notes of a lone trumpet following her footsteps towards him. He couldn’t help giving her a knowing grin, partly because he knew that would irritate her.

He had to give Vivi credit. Instead of avoiding confrontation, she slid into the seat right next to him. Most women would let the poor guy stew and wonder about what was happening next. That must not be her style.

Her hazelnut eyes still held a combative light. She had to be mad at him for asking those questions. Part of him had enjoyed the exchange. It was his job to make sure that his men remained safe, or as safe as possible, in their kind of work. The addition of someone unknown needed careful analysis. Again, he needed to talk to Hawk. Hear what Mad Dog had instructed.

Strange how a woman’s presence a couple of feet away could bring sudden awareness when his body was used to tossing around with other bodies in small spaces. But of course, those other bodies often smelled like old socks and blood. Vivi Verreau had a scent all her own…not pungent like expensive perfume, not too flowery, not too fruity…just something elusive. He hoped to find out for himself over dinner.

In the front, Hawk commenced with the mission. Operation Stealth Trap. At least it wasn’t something stupid like Kum Quat. As Jazz jotted down the information, he began to see how the joint mission was going to take place. Vivi stayed for another fifteen minutes, then got up to go. She slid a piece of paper folded in half toward him. He pocketed it without taking his eyes off the map on the big screen. Her scent lingered even after she was gone.

The last time Jazz had argued with Hawk over a woman, they were still officers without any field experience, when they had spent a lot of time hanging out in the officers’ lounge and learning about the bad side of being a sailor. That was, he mused, so long ago he couldn’t remember exactly what started the fight. The one thing he did remember was her sexy wide mouth and the unspoken promises of what she was going to do to him with those lips.

Then Hawk had arrived and made a beeline for her when Jazz had gone off to the men’s room. By the time he had returned, the woman was sucking Hawk’s lips like there was no tomorrow. Jazz had blamed his friend immediately, of course, since Hawk’s reputation with females was legendary even then, and he had enough alcohol in his system to start some trouble.

“I still have a scar from that kick.” Hawk’s voice merged with his memories.

Jazz looked up from his notes. The others had gone off after Orders, leaving their commanders alone. “I hate it when you do that,” he commented.

“It’s tough to share the same brain, isn’t it?”

That was how close the two of them were. Their ability to read each other’s minds sometimes disconcerted others, although privately Jazz thought Hawk could read him better than the other way round.

“That was a long time ago,” Jazz said. “I don’t think we should take time-out for a boys’ fight over a woman.”

Hawk raised an eyebrow mockingly. “I didn’t issue any challenge. Besides, that woman with the lips left with someone else while we were busy fighting.”

Jazz grinned. “Yeah. Pity.”

Hawk grinned back. “I got her weeks later behind your back.”

“Fuckhead.” Jazz shook his head. “Always got to win.”

“It wasn’t you, buddy. She was very persistent and I was very young.”

“Oh, like you would say no now? You’re a tomcat, Hawk.”

“I’ve grown pickier.”

“Uh-huh.” Jazz stretched his legs out and yawned. He knew how women were with Hawk. “So don’t pick her.”

“You mean, Vivienne Verreau?” Hawk sat on the table, feet on the chair. “Why not? You interested?”

“Yeah.”

“But she hasn’t grown warm to your kind of charm yet.”

Jazz searched Hawk’s eyes. Damn if he couldn’t read his mind right now. “I hadn’t had the chance.”

“You’re losing your touch, Jazz. You had all morning.”

“And your point is?”

“She agreed to go to dinner with me.”

“With me too.”

Hawk raised an eyebrow again. “So you want to fight?”

Jazz crossed his ankles. “You’re a bore. She’ll come to her senses.” He didn’t feel as confident as his words, but, hell, he wasn’t going to fight with Hawk over a woman when he didn’t even know what or who Vivi Verreau was. Besides, he thought with some smug satisfaction, she was still wearing his pendant. He added, “Why are you after her anyway?”

“She’s intriguing. Smart. And, she’s GEM.”

“What’s GEM?” Jazz was getting more curious about this organization by the second. “Her explanation was evasive, at best.”

“Like she said, independent contractors,” Hawk told him, giving a small shrug. “I know their women are all well trained in arms and languages, and they all know how to kiss.”

The last part was said with a devilish grin. Jazz frowned. He knew for sure Hawk hadn’t kissed Vivi yet. “Oh yeah, your cousin’s recent romance, the lady the guys kept talking about, the one who wears leather outfits like Cat Woman. Don’t tell me you kissed Steve’s girlfriend?”

Nothing Hawk did would surprise him, but he had never known Hawk to poach, especially when a woman had committed herself to some other man.

“She kissed me, actually. She thought I was Kisser.”

Hawk’s cousin, also named Steve McMillan, looked like and had almost the same build as Hawk. They had often been mistaken for brothers but were in fact cousins. But still…Jazz gazed at Hawk skeptically…they weren’t
that
identical.

Hawk’s lips quirked. He was reading Jazz’s mind again. “It was dark,” he offered as an explanation, “and we had our game face on.”

With camouflaged faces, one
could
mistake Hawk for Steve. “Okay, so they kiss well. What else do you know about GEM? Why did Mad Dog decide to do a joint mission with an independent? Since when did we become drug busters?”

“For one thing, Dilaver and his drug ring aren’t just the regular crime scum. His organization grows stronger every year and he’s arming the KLA in Serbia. He has his fingers in illegal arms, sex trade, and drugs, all interdependent when it comes to power in certain regions of the world, as you know.” Hawk thumbed at the screen behind him. “You saw the info she gave. He wants to expand but needs the cooperation of the Triads in Asia to make a move. If his gang joins up with the Triads, we have a problem in this part of the world.”

Jazz agreed. The region was already unstable, what with different warlords fighting one another and the government. With Dilaver backing one particular group, and selling illegal arms as well as channeling drugs and money laundering, the Triads could grow even more powerful. Could start to control the governing officers the way the KLA was doing now in Europe. But he had more questions that had nothing to do with political repercussions.

“Are GEM operatives female agents who go around saving sex victims?” Jazz asked. “Again, why the joint mission? Besides the fact that Vivienne Verreau speaks many languages.”

“From what the admiral told me, there are two outfits that work together—GEM and COS commandos. GEM is inde
pendent but COS CO linked up with them for the last two years. When Admiral Madison discovered how all the agencies weren’t communicating with each other, he appointed Steve as liaison between them and our STAR Force. They had good resources and an ability to circumvent a lot of the B.S. when it came to real action. They can help us whenever we’re in a bind.”

“Like when I was in the cage at Interpol,” Jazz interjected.

Hawk nodded. “Yeah, that’s one on the plus side. And this mission’s Intel came from them too. Obviously, their contract is to extract the girls but they checked with the admiral to make sure that we weren’t in this area to get Dilaver.”

Everything was beginning to make sense. When Admiral Madison had contacted the liaison to get him out, GEM probably grew concerned that his men were here for a mission that might jeopardize their operation.

“Okay. I see the big pic. We hit Dilaver. What about weaponry?”

“It’s the beaut part of the deal. No government-issued firepower. They supply it.”

Jazz raised his eyebrows. “What do you think about that?”

Hawk gave a lazy grin. “I think we’re going to have lots of fun.”

So were the others. Nothing like telling a bunch of guys there were many toys to play with in the next week or so. “I’ll make a list of what we need.”

“Good. I have a dinner date tonight,” Hawk said, getting off the table.

In response, Jazz pushed his desk forward, jamming his friend between the tables. Hawk, amusement evident on his face, didn’t move out of the way. “Not so fast,” Jazz said.

“Sorry, buddy. With someone like Vivienne, I think ‘fast’ is a must. She’s a runner.”

Jazz scowled. “Like you know.”

“I can spot them a mile away.”

“So your strategy is to run faster to catch her?”

Hawk leaned down and pushed the desk back a few inches. Jazz stopped it with one hand. “Maybe I intend to,” Hawk told him.

Jazz scowled as he studied his friend for a second. He hadn’t seen Hawk this motivated about a woman for a while now. It wasn’t a good sign. “I’m going to get her,” he announced.

Hawk wasn’t at all perturbed by the challenge. “How are you going to do that?”

He kicked the leg of the table lightly. “You’re the one who claims we share the same brain. Find out yourself.”

He recognized Hawk’s confident smirk and lazily grinned back. Usually, Jazz didn’t care to join in the chase of an attractive woman, especially when his friend was interested. He much preferred his own company and music. But Vivi Verreau was not a usual woman.

“Better hurry. So what did she say in her note?”

Jazz arched a brow. “Evil twin,” he mocked, “do I look stupid?”

Vivi climbed the stairs up to her apartment. Her landlady peered out from the third-floor landing and waved when she saw who it was.

“Late! Your boyfriend mad.”

Vivi grinned. She had no boyfriend. Mrs. Lee was always trying to set her up with one of the occupants in the building. A lonely man, she told Vivi, with a smug smile. Ripe for the picking. Never late with rent. Always cook for himself. Good potential husband material. Vivi found Mrs. Lee’s persistence humorous and exasperating.

“I have to work,” she told the old lady.

“Ah, see? You get him, you don’t need to work so hard.” Mrs. Lee wagged a finger at her. “Only need some children and then you set for life.”

Vivi choked back a laugh as she began to climb the staircase. “I think children are harder work, Mrs. Lee,” she called up.

“Ha! Throw them out on the street. Call them home for dinner. What so hard? Beat their behinds if they get in trouble. Make more children. They take care of the young ones.”