Page 39 of Hunter

“Well, I appreciate your help,” she said pleasantly.

“And I appreciate yours,” he replied tightly. “Make sure he’s ready for a field exercise at 0800 hours.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and strode from the room. Moments later, she heard the clump of heavy feet on the porch.

Hunter sat quietly for several moments. “You should not have asked him about that.”

“I know. But I wanted to see his face when he answered.”

“They do not . . . don’t like to be caught making mistakes.”

“I know,” she said again.

He took a deep breath, then let it out before pushing back his chair and standing. “I would like to be alone,” he said.

When she raised her eyes toward him, he avoided her gaze.

“Why don’t you finish your dessert?” she asked.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You liked the apple pie,” she said softly.

“The pleasure of it is gone.”

“Don’t let him spoil tonight for you.”

Her words fell into an empty silence as he turned away and walked down the hall. She heard water running. Doors opened and closed. Then nothing more.

###

The two men met in the shadows behind the gym. One was young and in his prime. A real hothead who chafed at the bit when the rules kept him out of the action.

The other was older, wearier, more cautions. Yet desperation made him willing to take risks. They had disliked each other on sight and been unspoken enemies since coming to work on Project Sandstorm. Now they found themselves united in pursuit of a common goal—eliminating Kathryn Kelley. One was convinced she spelled the kiss of death to his plans. The other bitterly resented her interference.

“What happened?” the older one asked.

“He damn near broke my arm,” his junior partner answered. “I was lucky to get away.” He prudently didn’t mention the missing gun. Thank God it wasn’t his service revolver, but he’d have to retrieve it.

“I mean—did he kill her, like we thought he would?”

“He didn’t do it.”

“Maybe he hid her body,” the older man said hopefully.

“No. She was alive and well and eating apple pie a half hour ago.”

The older man cursed. “You checked on that personally?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

“Listen, we’re supposed to trust each other.”

“Yeah,” came the gruff response.

“Do you have a Plan B?”

“I’m setting up another opportunity.”

“Good. Make it work this time.”

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