Page 12 of Legacy's Destiny

After signing his first initial,he got dressed, and though he wasn’t particularly silent, she still slept soundly. He glanced at his watch and then at the door. He needed to get back and get ready for the day. After leaving her keycard by the pad where he’d written the note, he gave the beautiful woman on the bedone last look. He was almost certain he’d never hear from her again, and that would be a shame.

He let himself out and stopped at the desk, putting in a wake-up call for her for eight. Most meetings started at nine, so hopefully, she wouldn’t be late for whatever meeting had brought her to Thailand. The walk back to his hotel was cool and quick. The city was just waking up, and the still-flowing traffic had yet to turn into a major artery of metal, motors, bikes, and motorcycles.

The hotel lobby was empty except for a janitor and the tired-looking clerk behind the desk. Deacon swiped his keycard to access the floor where he and his team stayed in the suites, then pressed his card against the card reader and silently opened the door.

Sleeping on the couch, Ranger moved in a fluid arch, his arm leveled at ground level and his forty-five pointed directly at the door and him.

“Don’t shoot me, Ranger. It would kill my good mood.”

Ranger grunted and returned to his slumber, the gun disappearing under the man’s pillow. Ranger must have drawn the short straw. Usually, one of them camped out in the living area. It was a habit born from caution.

Deacon walked into his room and straight into the shower. The hot water relieved his sore muscles. He smiled at the memory of one of the best nights of his life. Echo. What a name and what a lady. He showered and dried off before calling room service and ordering enough food to feed an army, or his team, in his case. He dressed casually—jeans and a T-shirt—and then moved quietly through the living room to the small kitchenette area to start a pot of coffee. Glancing at his watch when he heard Ranger stirring, he poured a second cup, handing it to the big guy as he shuffled into the kitchen.

Deacon chuckled at the man. Ranger didn’t wake up in a good mood. He never had. His hair was sticking up in five or six different directions, and his eyes were slits, but he found the coffee cup Deacon held out to him and took a swig. After a couple of minutes, Ranger found his voice and asked, “Where the hell were you all night, or should I not ask?”

Deacon smiled and lifted his eyebrow. “Don’t ask.”

“Damn.” Ranger rubbed his face. “Ace and Bandit found some sweeties. They aren’t back yet. Rip and I came home at about two. I got the short straw.”

“Figured when I was met with a faceful of forty-five.” Deacon put down his cup when there was a knock at the door. “I ordered room service.”

He opened the door and put his hand on his hip. “Where’s your key?” Bandit looked like someone had rolled him through an alley.

“In my wallet.”

Deacon moved aside as Bandit walked in. “And that is?”

“With the woman who stole it.” He shrugged. “Nothing in it but a few bucks, but she didn’t know that.”

“Was it worth it?” Ranger asked from the kitchen door.

Bandit yawned. “Probably not, but it was amazing.” He dragged past Deacon. “Need a shower.”

“Yeah, you do,” Deacon said, getting a middle finger salute for his effort. He chuckled and refilled his coffee. “If Ace isn’t back by eight, have Click locate him.”

Ranger yawned and nodded at the same time. “What time is the briefing?”

“Eight.” Deacon poured another cup of coffee. “Click said it was with the CIA supervisory officer for the Pacific area.”

Ranger blinked and then rubbed his eyes. “Supervisory officer for the entire region? Must be something big.”

Deacon shrugged and answered the knock at the door. This time, it was breakfast. He motioned for the trolley to be put into the kitchen area, tipped the guy, and waited while Ranger pulled out the small handheld device that told them whether a bug was hidden on the cart.

“Clear,” Ranger said as he took a plastic lid off a plate. “Fuck, thanks, Cap.” He took the plate and a roll of silverware over to the table.

“Anytime.” Deacon laughed and pulled off another plastic lid. Two eggs, over easy, two sausage links, two bacon strips, fried potatoes, and toast, same as Ranger’s plate. There were pastries and fruit somewhere on the cart, but this was what he wanted. Fuel.

He tucked into his meal, and Ranger asked, “Was she a local?”

Deacon shook his head. “American. From Virginia. She’s here for a meeting. Does something with IT.”

“Must’ve been special. You don’t usually do one-night stands.” It wasn’t an accusation, and it was the truth.

“She was beautiful, fit, and had a great laugh.” He shrugged. “I could like her.”

Ranger’s eyebrows hit his hairline. He paused with a speared sausage halfway to his mouth. “Really?”

Deacon nodded. She was one in a million. Sexy, fun, and smart. Just his luck he’d be gone by afternoon. Which sucked. If he had another day, he’d still be with her. But wishes weren’t his realm of responsibility; missions were. “I’d bet a thousand bucks I’ll never see her again, though. You know this job.”

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