Page 4 of Lucky Charm
“Hell, no. Not for the same reason you don’t.”
“We need to game out every possible thing that can go wrong and prep for anything.” He stared out across the compound. This was not how he’d imagined seeing Cait again.
“I hear that. You going to go talk to her?”
“Yes.”
Doogie raised a brow and grinned. “Good luck with that.”
Drawing a breath, he made a mental note to check the weather. The cold Afghanistan November air had chilled more since they’d entered ops.
He stopped at the pit, the place they usually socially gathered, and sat on a wooden bench rolling details through his head. Mission time was always filled with planning, adrenaline, and more planning. This time his brain was on high warp while swamped in anticipation of seeing the woman who’d stolen his common sense and turned hisnormally squared away brain into churning mush in a blender. He’d only slept with her once, and she’d attached herself deep inside him. It had taken a year for him to understand that was okay. He scrubbed his close-cut hair while forcing himself to stop grinding his teeth.
His wariness about the CIA op and his tingling intuition aside, this caveman-like instinct pushed his what-the-fuck button. Doc would slap him. She had command of herself, knew what she wanted, and handled herself like the pro she was. But thoughts of her safety agitated his internal balance and challenged the unbiased neutral mindset he brought to these situations.
He might respect the hell out of her skill, her rank, and her judgement, but it meant nothing out there. Haquiri was a manipulating, nasty bastard who shouldn’t be allowed to bring his oozing, disgusting presence near Doc.
He never argued with his assignments, though. He wouldn’t call attention to himself by doing so now. They shouldn’t have touched each other. That explosive touch led to mind-wrecking kisses to breathtaking sex. Each had a serious job to do, and a war zone was no place for complicated emotional involvement, especially not when he got called out on a mission directly from her bed and never saw her again. That was not a good start to anything more serious, and the time and place once again sucked.
His mind, as usual, shifted past those complications and saw the steps necessary to keepahead of problems. If you found yourself outgunned in a confrontation, you hadn’t prepared well enough, and he wanted no room for error.
Thinking ahead to his cold weather gear, he assessed what he had. November in this mountainous area with its Everest-like peaks was not a beach vacation. No Christmas pending with a pretty snow either. Local weather tended more toward lethal freezing not powder-puff skiing weather. Weapons and explosives on every motherfucker didn’t help. He needed to cull from his clothing to make sure Doc stayed warm. The Army might have outfitted her for this environment, but they wouldn’t know the ins and outs he did from Arctic training, and they wouldn’t show the care he would.
Doc would punch him if he stated that, too.
“Set it aside, Hunt. Mission only for this point forward,” he vowed under his breath. He rolled his shoulders and tried to release the tension there.
What in the hell was he going to say and how?
∞∞∞∞∞
Captain Cait Michaels forced her attention back to Colonel Angus Banner, the Hospital Commander of Craig’s Joint Theater Hospital. She sat in a straight-backed chair more reminiscent of a principal’s office than the military, although both had similarities. She did enjoy the varied framed photographs of his family and his ranch in Texas. The dozen or so pictures decorated the beige wallbehind his desk. The rich burgundy carpet on the floor had the benefit of squelching hospital sounds. Not that it helped much. The takeoff volume of the planes leaving Bagram Base rattled the walls. Other than that, there wasn’t much to differentiate this office from any other one in the hospital. Same industrial desk, same gray filing cabinet, same uncomfortable chairs. No one sat much around here.
“You have a problem with taking this mission, Captain?” A pointed look at her inattention had her fumbling through what he’d said.
She straightened her spine, forcing herself back to the issues. “No, sir. I have a few concerns, though.”
“Name them.” He steepled long fingers in front of him, his brown eyes intensely focused.
She dropped her gaze and referred to the paper he’d handed her. “The report says the child has a broken leg, a broken foot, and other injuries undetermined.”
“That’s correct.”
“Why am I going alone?”
Colonel Banner sighed. “Because we’re not sure he’ll let a large contingent of medical people into his compound. He expressed serious concerns about security.”
“Ours or his?” Cait clamped down on the remaining complaint.
“His, but we considered ours, too.”
“Will I have surgical assistance? Med-evac? Hospital ambulance?”
“Combat medic from the SEAL Team will assist. No air med-evac. Current threat assessment doesn’t support the action and might interfere with operations. No ambulance either. For security, the SEAL Team will carry the necessary equipment. You’ll do what you need to do and then leave him in the care of a local.”
SEAL Team made her heart pound triple time. She knew a bunch of the men, had sewn up many of them. One specifically invaded her memories. “If he needs more?”
“Then you’ll report, and we’ll see what’s available.”
