Page 65 of Hunter

Kathryn couldn’t get an appointment with the Chief of Operations until well into the afternoon. She entered his office braced to argue that she could still be of help in Hunter’s training.

To her surprise, the Chief of Operations concurred immediately. “You’ve done a tremendous job with him in a very short time,” he complimented her.

“Thank you.”

“I was hoping you’d stay at Stratford Creek in case we need some further assistance.”

“I’d certainly be willing to do that,” she agreed, both relieved and elated that she wasn’t being dismissed.

“And I’d like to see the report on the sessions you had with him,” he added. “Could you start writing it up?”

She nodded, wondering exactly what she was going to say. Probably tommyrot. But at least making it up would give her something to do.

When she left the office, she almost ran into Dr. Kolb, who was pacing back and forth in the waiting room.

He looked up when he saw her, his face gray tinged, his upper lip beaded with perspiration. “Are you leaving us?” he asked.

“No. Mr. Emerson wants me to stay.”

He relaxed a fraction. “I was hoping we would get a chance to talk.”

“Uh, yes,” she said, unsure of what they had to say to each other.

“Maybe we—” he stopped and glanced at the secretary, then ushered Kathryn into the hall.

She eyed him questioningly.

“I was wondering if we could meet somewhere private.”

“Where?”

“You jog. What about the woods at the end of East Road?”

She thought about rendezvousing with this man she didn’t trust in an isolated patch of woods. Too dangerous.

Before she could politely decline, Emerson’s voice rang out. “Kolb, where the hell are you? We have an appointment.”

The doctor went rigid. Giving Kathryn an unreadable look, he squared his shoulders and marched into the outer office, leaving Kathryn staring at his back.

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The night was the worst, Hunter thought. He missed being with Kathryn. Missed seeing her smile. The little jokes she made. Sharing food with her. The warm looks she gave him. He had said he would lock those things away, that they could no longer be part of him.

But as he lay alone on his narrow bed, he found he needed them. In his mind, he brought them out, one by one, like jewels from a treasure chest.

She had sung while she had made the pancakes. When he came home from the hospital, she had leaped into his arms. Later, they had talked about making love. They would never do it now, but he had held her close in her bed—kissed her, felt her body rocking against his. That had felt so good—even the tight aching part of it. Better than anything he could imagine.

In the darkness, he could relive the moments with her, pretend they were happening again. In the daylight, as he ate runny eggs and drank cooling black coffee, he knew he was only fooling himself.

But it helped a little to focus on the training sessions, and to remember that he wouldn’t have to stay here for long.

Reid came to get him after weapons drill and took him down to the lake to practice setting plastic explosives. Usually Reid was in security, but it seemed he had also been an explosives expert, so he was on the instructional team today.

It was odd for Reid to be working with him alone, he thought. But he didn’t focus on it. Or ask questions. He simply followed his orders.

“Have you detonated these before?” Reid asked, holding up two bricks of dull gray plastic.

“Yes.”

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