Page 32 of Evening Shadows

Finally, Franks came on the air as their apparent spokesman. “Each of us wanted to marry you.” He paused, also as hesitant as Doc had become getting nearer to this point. “But instead, we think Boss should do it.”

Shock wracked her system and she barely noticed Ken had stiffened beside her. He probably hadn’t known their answer either. Just the thought of it tickled her belly.

When she got her voice back, she chuckled—although she didn’t find it funny—and answered, “Well, that is thoughtful of all of you, but I’ll pass.”

By this time, Stone had joined them and the transport bird was on its way and would arrive per the new schedule.

Instead of responding to the quips, Ken grabbed their attention. “Ready, boys and girl?”

“I’ve been waiting so long my ass itches,” Cowboy said.

“Eww, that’s gross,” Sam responded.

“You sound like a girl,” Cowboy countered.

“That’s because I am, numnuts.”

“Ouch, that hurts,” Cowboy mocked. They never should’ve started teaching her military jargon. Like learning a foreign language, she’d learned most of the bad words first.

“Cowboy,” Franks said, “you might not want to piss her off before an op. Your six may go uncovered.”

Cowboy chuckled. “She’d never do that. Would ya, Sugar?”

“Gentlemen,” Ken cut in, “and lady,” he added, “lock and load.”

Sam rolled her eyes. Everyone had been ready since they’d deplaned. Yet Ken said the same words on every op.You can take the man out of the military, but you can’t take the military out of the man. She’d heard the statement in passing and believed it to be true. While the men had their own wars about which branch ruled the roost, they came together as one for an op.

“Are you ready?” Ken whispered near her ear.

Hell, she hadn’t felt him moving closer. That lapse in her instincts didn’t bode well to protect her from Ken. Not physically, but emotionally. She gulped and whispered back, a little breathless, “Yes.” How could she be ready when, once again, she couldn’t control her breathing around him? In an effort to insert space between them, she leaned down and looked down her scope.

“We’re going to go through this fast, so I’m not going to guide you in for each target. I’ll give you the first instruction, and then you’ve got to run on your own. The order is north, east, south, west. I’ll watch for other threats we need to take out.”

She memorized the order and associated the tangos with them.

Without giving her time to take a breath, Ken put them back on point. “Go to the north tower,” he instructed.

Relaxing enough to slow her pulse and control her breathing, but not enough to leave herself vulnerable, she got down to business. “Contact.” She didn’t describe the target again since they’d already done that and nothing had changed.

She walked through the steps with him, to ensure she was aligned and ready. When they finally got to the moment she’d been waiting for, she held her breath while Ken announced the winds. She adjusted as he cleared her to fire.

With a light touch on the trigger, she took the first shot—and possible life—for today.

13

Proud as a papa, Ken watched Sam take out the four men in less than ten seconds without needing his guidance, only his initial winds call. Granted he’d run her through it already. Her skill constantly astounded him. Without a second thought, he radioed, “Four tangos down.”

Franks didn’t waste time. The team took that as the green light since all that had held them back had been the guards in the towers. “Go, go, go,” he directed. Then to Ken, he added, “Oscar Mike.”

With weapons at the ready, the men crossed the expanse around the compound in what he considered record time. Because of their location, Ken lost sight of the team as they neared the wall. Now he wished he’d had Cowboy blow the gate so he could observe them but knew a silent infiltration worked better for this op. He trusted Franks to keep them safe.

The next sight he had of the men was their climbing over the eight-foot wall. His confidence in them didn’t waver. After a minute with them inside, he wanted to scream, “Sitrep.” Impatience could kill a man in situations such as this. Maybe he shouldn’t have come since he couldn’t be with the team below in the middle of the action.

“They’re at the front door,” Sam informed him.

He abandoned the spotting equipment and dropped down beside her and looked down his scope. While he couldn’t hold a candle to Sam’s accuracy at this distance, on semi-automatic, he’d be bound to hit something.

The gate appeared more imposing as he sighted it. Only tiny slits through the metal bars allowed for a bit of sight. To get a shot through there would be a phenomenal feat. Disheartened, he admitted, “I can’t get a shot through there.”

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