Chapter Seven

The Huey’s seats were narrow and uncomfortable. To make things worse, I was squashed between Stone and Tex. My eyelids drooped as I struggled to stay awake. That surge of adrenaline was long gone, and I was so damned tired.

“Wake up Tinkerbell,” Stone said in my ear.

I mumbled, “Tired.”

“We just landed in Kuwait, and we’ll get you something to eat.”

Food? My eyes popped open, and to my horror, I was leaning against Sergeant Stone’s shoulder. Shit! I shot to my feet. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to touch you.”

Stone gave me an evil grin. “Do you know you snore?”

“Do not.”

“Yeah, you do,” Tex said.

That’s when I noticed the gleam of amusement in Rodriquez’s eye. “Har. Har. Point me toward the mess hall and I’ll get out of your hair.”

Stone shook his head. “Not a chance. Consider yourself part of my team.”

“But I’m Army.” I grabbed my duffel bag and slung Bertha over my shoulder.

“We all work for Uncle Sam.”

Okay, that was true, but they didn’t know how dangerous my father was. “If you hang around me very long, you’re gonna end up dead.”

“We are the Alpha Dogs, and we never run from a fight,” Johnson stated.

“Yeah, I know. You’re swift, silent and deadly, but so is my father.”

“Don’t leave my side,” Stone commanded.

“But…”

Stone leaned down until his nose touched mine. “That’s an order, soldier.”

“Yes, sir.” I followed him off the Huey. As much as I hated to admit it, if I wanted to survive, I needed their help.

A big, barrel-chested Marine with all sorts of medals on his chest waited for us.

We all saluted him.

“At ease.” His gaze locked on me. “Introduce me.”

“General Masters, this is private Tess Reynolds, an Army sniper,” Sergeant Stone said.

The General’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Sniper?”

“Yes, sir,” Sergeant Stone replied.

“Any good?”

Stone nodded. “She can outshoot me.”

“Is that true, private?”

“I never miss, sir.”

The General grunted. “And you can fly a Huey?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Grandville hasn’t arrived yet. Go get some grub and for God’s sake take a shower you all stink,” General Masters ordered.

Stone and his team saluted him sharply and shouted, “Yes, sir.”

I quickly saluted him. Did I stink too?

General Masters turned on his heel and marched off.

I frowned. What kind of lies had Roberts spread about me? Was General Grandville coming here to arrest me or kick me out of the Army? The big question was: Where was my father?

“Let’s go, Reynolds,” Stone barked.

“Yes, sir.” I trotted after him. I wanted a big, juicy burger with fries and some fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy. We entered the busy mess hall, and everyone turned to stare at us.

Stone bellowed, “Never seen a female sniper before?”

“No, sir,” a bunch of Marines shouted back.

“She belongs to my squad. Any questions?”

The Marines hollered, “No, sir.”

I had a few, but one look at the expression on Stone’s face and I decided they could wait.

My squad dumped their backpacks on an empty table. I followed suit, grabbed a plate and joined them in line. I eyed the food hungrily. Wow, I could eat breakfast or lunch. What should I start with?

Sergeant Stone took my plate. “She’ll have scrambled eggs, fruit and toast.”

“But…”

“Are you contradicting me, private?”

“No, sir.”

“Good, we wouldn’t want you puking everything back up, would we?”

“No, sir.” The first chance I got, I was putting a scorpion in his bunk. I reached for a bottle of orange juice.

Sergeant Stone took it away from me. “Water only.”

And one in his boot too. “Yes, sir.” I held out my hand for my plate.

“Don’t inhale your food.”

“Yes, sir.” I stomped back to our table and sat. What a jackass. I took a bite of the eggs and groaned. God, they were cooked to perfection.

Sergeant Stone plunked a bottle of water next to my plate. “You forgot your water.” The bastard sat next to me and opened his bottle of beer.

I wanted to stab him with my fork. My squad’s plates were piled high with steak, mashed potatoes, gravy and biscuits.

Two fighter jocks strolled in and looked around. Once they spotted me, they yelled, “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot! You are a damn fine pilot for a female.”

“Gee, you’re too kind.” I wondered how they would react if I put a scorpion in their cockpits. Would they scream like a girl? I smiled. Probably.

The taller fighter jock asked, “You doing anything tonight? I’d like to take you out for a beer and give you pointers on dog fighting.”

Before I could respond, Sergeant Stone glowered at him. “Get lost.”

“I’m Air Force and a lieutenant. So, shut the fuck up, sergeant.”

Stone shot to his feet, towering over the idiot lieutenant. “She doesn’t date. Ever.”

And once again testosterone raised its ugly head.

“Is that true?”

I looked at his name tag. “It is, Lieutenant Foster. Men who want to date me usually end up dead.”

“Dead?”

I nodded. “Yep, I have a CIA assassin after me.”

“A simple no would be sufficient,” Lieutenant Foster snapped.

Tex interjected, “She’s not lying.”

“The attack on King Faisal Air Force Base was another attempt to kill me,” I said and stood up.

“Going back for seconds?” Tex asked with a frown.

“I want some chocolate cake. I deserve some chocolate cake.”

Johnson nodded. “She does. That was some mighty fine flying.”

“I agree, but you need to drink more water,” Sergeant Stone replied.

“I will.” I got back in line.

Lieutenant Foster followed me and pointed to my modified pistols. “Is this assassin who’s trying to kill you the reason you’re carrying two guns?”

“It is and I can shoot with both hands.”

“They say you’re a sniper, too.”

“I am.”

Three Taliban males wearing military uniforms burst in firing old Russian AK-47 assault rifles. “Allah Akbar!”

Bullets whizzed by me, hitting the metal food stations and the soda machine. Ignoring the searing pain in my left ribcage, it took me two seconds to draw my guns and return fire. The three militants fell to the floor with a bullet hole between their eyes. Thank God, my luck was holding. If the first shooter’s rifle hadn’t jammed, I’d be dead.

Stone, Rodriquez and Johnson cautiously approached the militants and kicked their weapons away and searched them.

Several military police officers rushed in.

“Shooters have been neutralized,” Stone shouted.

The pain in my side grew worse. I pulled up my blood-soaked shirt and sighed. The bullet had left me with a terrific six-inch long gash.

“Sonovabitch! I’m hit.”

I glanced down. Lieutenant Foster lay at my feet with a big hole in his right shoulder. “You weren’t lying.”

“Nope.” I grabbed some napkins and held them against my injury.

Foster sat up and pressed a hand to his badly bleeding wound. “I’ve never seen anyone draw and shoot as fast as you did.”

“That’s because she’s a quick draw artist,” Tex said and examined him. “You’ll need surgery to remove the bullet.”

Two base medics hurried in.

Tex waved at them. “Over here.”

Feeling a bit lightheaded, I sat at a nearby table and noticed my napkins were now blood soaked. Great, just what I needed.

A chubby female kitchen worker rushed over to me and handed me several thick dish towels. “Looks like you could use these. Those paper napkins are the cheap kind.”

“Thanks.” I dumped the bloody napkins on the table and glanced around. Sergeant Stone was talking to General Masters, and no one was paying any attention to me. “Do you think I could I get some chocolate cake?”

The kitchen worker grinned. “Chocolate cures everything, doesn’t it?”

“It sure does.”

She quickly filled a plate with chocolate cake and set it in front of me. “There you go.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” While Tex and the medics worked on Lieutenant Foster, I ate my way through the cake. Thirsty, I automatically reached for a bottle of beer that had been left on the table. Searing pain shot across my ribcage and a yelp broke from me. Damn. That hurt. A lot.

“Fuck!” Tex jumped to his feet. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hit?”

“It’s just a flesh wound.”

“That’s an awful lot of blood for just a flesh wound,” Tex countered.

The next thing I knew, he was cutting off my shirt. “Hey! This is the only shirt I have left.”

“Tough.” Tex gaped at my numerous bruises. “What the hell? Who beat you?”

“I wasn’t beaten, I fell down a mountain.”

Tex shot me a disbelieving look. “Sure, you did.” He cleaned the gash and got out his suture kit.

Sergeant Stone, General Masters, Rodriquez and Johnson crowded around me.

“Was she a prisoner of the Taliban?” General Masters wanted to know.

Stone shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Then where did she get all those bruises?”

I took a deep breath and counted to ten. “I was running from the Taliban, tripped and fell down a mountain.”

“Damn, she’s got great tits,” a soldier commented.

Rodriquez decked him. “Watch your mouth and if you look at her again, you’re gonna need some dental work.”

“Yes, sir.” The soldier scrambled away.

I flinched as Tex stuck the needle from hell into me.

“I thought you could use this.” The kitchen worker placed a green tee-shirt on the table.

I smiled. In bold print across the front of the shirt was: In my defense I was left unsupervised. “Thank you. It’ll keep me from flashing everyone.”

Her gaze swept over Tex as he stitched my gash, and she visibly winced. “Want more chocolate? Or another beer?”

“No. She does not,” Stone interjected.

The kitchen worker glared at him. “Afraid she’ll get fat?”

Holy shit! Before I could say anything, Sergeant Stone gave her a megawatt smile. “No darlin’, she’s suffering from dehydration and needs to stick to water, but you could box up more cake.”

“Oh. Okay.” Awestruck, she stared up at him and giggled like a schoolgirl. “I’ll go… I’ll do that.” She scurried off.

I snorted. “I bet all you have to do is take your shirt off and smile.”

“Jealous, Tinkerbell?” He turned his sensuous smile on me.

“I’ve seen you naked and your dangly bits aren’t all that special, darlin’.”

Stone’s jaw literally dropped. “Dangly bits?”

“She’s a keeper,” General Masters guffawed.

“I knew someone was spying on us at the lake,” Johnson hooted.

“I was looking for the Taliban and instead I found a bunch of sausage jockeys.”

Stone raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Curious about a man’s body, are you, darlin?”

“You shot every one of the militants between the eyes,” Rodriquez inserted hastily.

I nodded. “That way they don’t get back up and try to kill you.”

“Can you teach us your fast draw technique,” Tex asked as he bandaged my side.

“Sure.”

General Masters’ phone rang. He glanced down at the screen and frowned. “Get her cleaned up before General Grandville shows up.” He strode off.

The hairs on the back-of-my-neck stood on end when I met Stone’s narrowed-eyed gaze. I had roused his predator. It was almost as if he wanted to eat me. Nah, exhaustion was making me loopy. I wasn’t his type, and he probably just wanted to smack me. Pops had warned me to never ever make fun of a man’s private parts. My bad, but I wasn’t apologizing to the jackass. I stood up. “Where are the women’s barracks?”

“You’re bunking with us,” Stone said.

“What?”

Sergeant Stone smiled evilly. “You are part of the team now, where we go, you go.”

“But…”

“Move it,” Stone bellowed.

“Yes, sir.” Funny black spots danced in my vision, and everything suddenly went black. I was dimly aware of Stone cursing.