The Shadow of Mudflap (A Foxtrot Team Novel #1) (6 page)

The coach walked the sidelines. He jumped at every little thing and his eyes kept darting around like he expected something to happen. Something was off.

By halftime, Tech was winning by thirty points and Grant still didn’t show any signs of waking up. The docs said he might be able to hear them, so it was good to keep talking to him. Searching for another subject that might grab Grant’s attention, he thought back to the coin that Grant gave him from the fire.

He pulled the coin out of his pocket since he’d begun to carry it as a kind of talisman. He studied it and then his friend. “What was it about this coin that caught your attention and was worth risking your life?”

He’d studied it several times since that day, but had no idea what the coin was. It definitely wasn’t any kind of current currency. It looked like it could be real gold, but Grant wouldn’t risk his life or the lives of others for money. He was too professional for that.

The letters on the coin weren’t normal letters. They were maybe Greek or an old language of some sort. In the center was a five point star with Celtic markings on it. There was something about that symbol that seemed familiar. Maybe he should do an Internet search to see if he could puzzle it out.

He pulled out his phone and began to do cursory searches with no luck. Frustrated with it, he thumbed through the screens on his phone and thought about Shanae. Even the simple exchange of their texts had been the highlight to his days.

He hadn’t actually spoken to her since their date. He needed to call her up because he definitely wanted to see her again, but now worried he’d set the bar too high. Even though it ended early, he got the feeling she’d enjoyed their evening. But what could he do for a second one? Now, he sympathized with Coach Porter’s pressure issues. Damn, he just wanted everything to be perfect with her.

He could use Grant’s advice right now. He and Donna were married just over two years ago and ever since then Grant had harped on him about finding the right girl and settling down. Grant would love knowing a girl had finally caught his eye. But as he glanced around the flower-filled room, it occurred to him that Grant had bigger problems than Mudflap’s floundering love life.

“Grant, bud, you really need to wake up. We miss you. There’s a new guy filling in for you at the station. His name is Michael and he seems nice enough, but there’s no replacement for you. You need to come back, for me, for Donna, for all your friends and family. We miss you.”

A male nurse came into the room, gave Mudflap a bland look and checked Grant’s vital signs.

“Are there any improvements?” Mudflap asked him.

“No, there doesn’t appear to be any change.” The man worked to change out Grant’s IV and Mudflap refocused on the game which had started up for the second half. Whatever the nurse was doing didn’t take long and he left with an “Enjoy the game,” as he exited the room.

Mudflap had medical paramedic training so he lifted the IV bag to check it and wondered why they’d switched it out since the other bag had been over halfway full. It seemed a little odd.

The label practically screamed at him. Oh, shit, no. He ripped the plastic tubing out of Grant’s arm just as the alarms started going off.

Shanae

Shanae rolled out of bed, groaning. Who the hell was pounding on her door at freaking o’dark thirty in the morning? She’d only arrived home two hours ago after being up for forty-six hours straight. Her brain screamed that she hadn’t had enough sleep. Mickey’s was a mess. The bomb had gone off just as the Intrepids meeting had disbanded. Because several of the gang members were wanted, the ones who made it out scattered. All day yesterday, the ruins of the bar had been too hot to complete the recovery of the bodies, so it was still too early to know exactly how many perished.

Shanae was relieved that Troy was one of the lucky ones. He’d been out in the alley taking out the trash when the bomb went off. He had some residual burns and shrapnel wounds, but nothing serious.

There still wasn’t any word about the DEA agent, Slade. At least that was the case two hours ago when she left HQ after spending the day helping to monitor and organize the teams. She’d call in and check as soon as she got rid of the asshole beating down her door.

She paused for a moment before opening the door, debating the benefits of doing so with a knife in hand. There was one in the table right beside the door and she’d really enjoy filleting whoever this was. Peering through her peep hole settled the debate.  She grabbed the knife and flung the door open.

Her ex-boyfriend, Seth, barged in, yelling, “Who the hell is he, Shanae?”

Oh God, she needed coffee to deal with this. She paid no attention to Seth. Flexing her hand around the knife clutched in her hand, she walked into the kitchen and started the coffee pot. Blatantly ignoring Seth’s ranting while the coffee brewed, she finally turned to him with a cocked eyebrow after she’d taken her first sip. He stood glaring at her.

She knew that glare too well. Toward the end of their relationship, it had become his favorite look to give her when she didn’t bow down to his wishes. He just didn’t get that she was her own person and had her own career. A career he had worked to dominate more and more by using his influence as a CIA agent. Finally, she had had enough and broke up with him. That still hadn’t been enough to get him to butt out of her work or home life, so she’d left the Houston office and moved to Lubbock.

She took a deep breath, looking for patience so she could be civil to him. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” 

“No,” he pouted like a little kid. “I want an answer. Who. Is. He?”

“Who, Seth? You need to be a little bit more specific if you’re going to drag me out of bed for this discussion.”

“The guy you went out with two nights ago.”

She narrowed her gaze at him. “How do you know I went out with someone? Do you have me under surveillance?” Her voice sounded shrill, but was he serious? Seth was a CIA agent out of the Houston office and he had resources at his fingertips that he better fucking not be using on her.

“What are you doing in Lubbock?” she demanded. His sudden appearance just as she started dating someone else was not giving her a warm, fuzzy feeling.

“I’m here for an assignment.” Seth stalked closer. “I know his name is Mudflap Davidson and he’s a firefighter, but I need to know what he means to you. Are you serious about him?”

She was beginning to think a move out of the country may be necessary. But no, she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. Slowly and methodically, she set her coffee cup down and then lunged at him, pressing her knife below his crotch. He never had a chance to react. He really should have remembered that waking her up was never a good thing.

Through gritted teeth, she said, “Seth, first of all, we are no longer involved. Who I see or don’t see is none of your fucking business. I could have the entire naval fleet parade through my bedroom and you couldn’t say a damn thing about it anymore.”

He began to speak, but she stopped him with more pressure to his groin, letting the sharp blade prick through the fabric on his jeans. The blood drained from his face as his eyes widened.

“Now, I’m asking you again. Am I under surveillance? Are you, or are you not, using CIA assets to monitor me?”

He must have finally started getting a measure of her temper since he immediately began to placate her. “Now, Shanae—”

“Don’t you—”

“Okay,” he said soothingly, “yes, I’m watching, but only so I know you’re safe. Your job is dangerous. I worry about you.”

Her heart softened despite her anger. That right there was why she’d always had problems holding this guy at her normal arm’s length. He’d be a complete jerk, and then turn around and say something that made it so she couldn’t hate him. She couldn’t hate the guy for caring, but she wasn’t going to get sucked into his vortex again. She took a large step back from him.

The breath he’d been holding whooshed out.

“Seth, it’s not your job to worry about me anymore. We broke up eight months ago and this is a good example as to why. You’re a great guy, but you’re not going to be my great guy. You and I never would have worked together. You need someone to heed your beck and call. That isn’t me and never will be me. You need to move on—”

Her LiFT cell phone rang. She ran a hand through her bed-head hairstyle and closed her eyes in surrender. This wasn’t going to be a good day, was it?

“Shadowfox,” she answered, since it was her work phone.

“I need you to come in. There’s been an attempt on the firefighter’s life.” It was her boss, Daniel.

Her heart stuttered to a halt, before taking off again at a gallop. “Mudflap? Is he okay?”

She saw Seth’s eyes narrow, but turned away from him so he wouldn’t distract her.

“Not Mudflap. His partner, Grant Simpson, the one who was hurt in the fire.”

Her knees gave way and she slumped against the counter. She couldn’t examine why the relief was so incredibly overwhelming right now.

“I need you in here as soon as possible, Shadowfox.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” As she turned off her cell phone, she ignored Seth’s direct, hardened gaze. “I need you to leave. I have to go to work.”

He crossed his arms, which he knew emphasized his bulk and muscles. It felt like a threat to her especially when combined with the mutinous glare in his eye. She lost her patience. Her heartbeat was still too erratic from the scare of thinking that Mudflap was hurt or worse.

“Get out, Seth!” She glanced down to her empty hand. The knife she had before had been put down when she answered her phone. Instead, she pulled the switchblade out of the drawer in front of her. She flipped it open which locked the blade into place. It was a deadly, wicked looking 9” blade and she wouldn’t think twice about using it.

Seth knew enough about her knife play to know that she could nail him in the balls from where she stood. “I’m not playing your games anymore. I thought we could be friends, but obviously I was wrong. I don’t want to see you anymore and if I find out you’re watching me again, I will cut off your balls.”

He raised his hands in surrender as he began to slowly back out of the room toward the front door. “Okay, calm down, Shanae. I’ll go for right now, but we aren’t through here.” He closed the door behind him.

She thunked her head on the countertop. Damn, it was seriously going to be one of those days.

Game 3 Results:

Texas Tech (19): 44

vs.

University of Arkansas: 28

Week 4: Sometimes a Substitution is Needed

Mudflap

Mudflap opened his front door, puzzled to find his brother, TC, standing there in the hazy morning light just starting to filter over the horizon.

“Surprise!” TC grinned as he shouldered past Mudflap who stood shocked in the doorway. “Guess who your new roommate is.”

“Um, what?” Mudflap shut the door and frowned at the duffle bag that TC carried. “No.”

Derek stumbled into the living room rubbing his sleep-worn face. He looked confused and sleepy as he dropped onto the couch, watching them warily.

Mudflap gestured toward Derek. “That’s my roommate and besides, don’t you have a job, you know, with the Kansas City Chiefs?”

TC gave him a shit-eating grin. “That was my former job. I resigned yesterday after the game.”

“What?” Mudflap exclaimed.

TC just kept grinning. “As of last night, my new job is head coach of the Texas Tech football team.”

That little statement even woke Derek out of his stupor as his eyes widened.

“No way.” Disbelief stuttered through Mudflap. This was shocking and in a much bigger way than having his brother as head coach. In Lubbock, the football personnel were considered family. To have the current coach suddenly leave was a serious blow for the entire town. “What happened to Coach Porter?”

TC’s grin finally faded a bit. “I’m not really sure. The only thing I know is that he resigned because of personal issues, but I have no idea what that really means. So, where would you like me to throw my stuff?” He began walking down the hall, toward the bedrooms.

Mudflap stopped mid-stride. “Wait. What?”

“Mudflap.” TC sounded exasperated, but from where Mudflap sat, he couldn’t see why TC thought he could just move in. “Listen, you know where the Tech football program is this year. They have a good shot at going all the way to the National Championship. I can’t come in here and screw that up. I need to be able to concentrate on football and only football. It’s just for a couple of months. I’ll find a house after football season is over, but until then, I need a place to crash. This is a four bedroom house so you have room for me. You aren’t gonna be the one to throw the Tech football program into jeopardy are you?”

Hell, how could he argue with that? “Fine, but you’re going to be sleeping on a lumpy futon, because that’s all that’s left.”

“No worries. I’ll just have my bed delivered here.” And TC walked down the hall like he owned the place.

Mudflap looked over at Derek who asked, “Want me to make coffee?”

“Hell, yes. Lots of it.” He glanced over at the clock. He had to get to the fire station for work and he needed to check on Grant, who’d miraculously survived the attempt on his life, but was still in a coma. Life had gotten incredibly complicated over the last few weeks.

How exactly had he gone to having his own place to living with two other guys in three months? Fuck, at this rate, his place was going to be like a frat house by the end of the year.

Shanae

Later that morning, Shanae held a death grip on her coffee cup, daring anyone to take her caffeine from her today. She’d take them out with a stir-stick if she had to. She knew how to do that. Having to function on so little sleep made her feral.

When she stepped into the war room, the frenetic energy was even more crazy than normal. Her boss, Daniel, immediately saw her as she walked in and waved her over to the table where most of the rest of her team was already sitting. “Sit down and I’ll give you a quick briefing. Then you all have a new job to report in to.”