Lindsay McKenna – Down Range (страница 8)

Morgan hesitated in the outer office where the secretary was busy. Jake was her sniper partner, and she should wait for him. A part of her wanted to run away as fast as she could. That was the wounded woman in her. The rest of her, the military officer, knew they needed time to go over the op, look at it, figure out the details, fill in any holes that could be found in it and get on the same page with the mission—together.

When Jake emerged, hat in hand, she felt a rush of heat blossom deep inside her. Startled by it, Morgan thought that two years would have ended their tempestuous on-again, off-again relationship. She pursed her lips as he walked up to her. It hadn’t.

Morgan could feel raw male energy radiating off him like invisible sunlight. Did he realize how damned charismatic and sexy he was? She didn’t think so. Jake’s whole life, his entire focus, was about his SEAL fraternity. He never wanted a serious personal relationship standing between him and his SEAL career. A roll in a bed was fine with him, but he was Mr. No Strings Attached. As she’d found out too late, in her third year at Annapolis. Jake Ramsey had devastated her, sheared her world in half and never looked back. Never apologized. She should know better. How many times had she fallen for him? Twice. Twice too many times.

“Ready to rock it out?” he asked her quietly, looking down into her eyes.

“Funny you should use that word,” she murmured, turning. It was a favorite SEAL saying when live fire or an attack was just about to be initiated against an enemy. “Let’s go chow down.”

Chapter Four

Jake sat opposite Morgan at one of the many lunch tables in the cafeteria. Most uniformed personnel who came in at this hour of the morning went for coffee, doughnuts or rolls. They sat with huge platters of hamburgers and French fries, plus a Pepsi on the side. Jet lag did wonders for the digestion.

“I don’t know where to start with you, Morgan,” Jake admitted.

“Makes two of us. I didn’t know you were selected for this mission, either. It was a shock.”

He watched her eat, and his lower body tightened, which didn’t make him happy. Taking a deep breath, he decided to ignore their history together. And there was plenty of time in the next two days to get clear on the op. “I’m sorry for what happened to you at that Afghan village. It had to be tough.”

The vibration of his voice, that whiskey tone of his, sent a keening ache through her. Morgan lifted her head and met his tender gray gaze. Jake was really trying to be humble and caring. On occasion he could be so damn warm and persuasive, moving her from ice to fire.

She gave him a hard look. “Let’s stick to business, Ramsey. It’s the only place I want to be with you. I don’t want to discuss that attack.” It was too painful for her. She’d break down in tears, something Jake had never seen her do. And Morgan wasn’t about to bare her soul to him in, of all places, the Pentagon cafeteria.

Jake sat back, his mouth tightening. His gray eyes going glacial as he stared into her stubborn-looking face. “This is business,” he ground out. “I didn’t know you were a sniper. When did you get your training?”

“Three years ago.”

“As part of Operation Shadow Warriors?” He searched, trying to piece her training. Oh, he’d read her résumé, but he wanted a hell of a lot more.

“Yes, ten of the women from Shadow Warriors were sent to SEAL sniper school. Five made it through.” Her heart fluttered, and she hated herself for wanting Jake. She could see through him like glass. He was twisting in the wind, not sure how to handle or approach her.

“Did either of your parents hunt?”

Mouth quirking, Morgan picked up a fry. “Since when did you ever want to know anything about my home life, Ramsey? Funny, you had a year at Annapolis to find out everything you ever wanted to know about me. But you never asked me once about my family.”

He winced.

Served him right. Would Jake ever grow up? He was twenty-nine, same age as her. And he had the personal irresponsibility of a fifteen-year-old hormone-driven teenager. Relationships meant nothing to him. She’d meant nothing to him outside of the bed. Even if Jake hadn’t grown up, Morgan had.

Holding up his hands, he rasped, “Look, that was a long time ago. I’ve changed.” He smarted beneath her accusations. Morgan didn’t know he’d married to settle down to raise a family.

“Really?” The word came out filled with derision.

“I’m waving a white flag. Can I surrender and we talk about the mission?” It was then Jake began to understand the depth of hurt he’d caused Morgan in the past. She couldn’t hide anything from him, no matter how hard she tried. Running his fingers through his short hair in frustration, Jake sat back, staring at her.

“A SEAL surrendering.” Morgan smiled a little, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Jake, you always say the right thing at the right time. The problem is, it doesn’t stick for long. You’re like the Velcro you use on your gear. Sticks when you want it to, rip if off when you no longer need it.”

“I’ve changed, Morgan.”

She heard an edge to his voice, his eyes going a slate-gray. That color meant he was emotionally upset about something. Her, most likely. Morgan took the last bite of the delicious hamburger and wiped her fingers on a nearby paper napkin. “You haven’t changed since I met you at Annapolis, Jake.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Well, I guess you’re going to have to find out differently on this op, then.” He paused for a moment. “Look, I don’t even know anything other than you’re a sniper. General Stevenson seems to think you’re very good at it.” He searched her hooded eyes. “Can we at least talk about that?”

“Sure,” she said, wadding up the napkin and dropping it on her plate. “Since becoming a qualified sniper, I’ve been out nine months out of every year with either SEAL or Special Forces teams in Afghanistan. I would be assigned when a team lost one of their two snipers and would take over that position as a straphanger.”

“You asked to go along? I’m trying to understand how this top secret Operation Shadow Warriors works.”

She sat back, arms across her chest. “I was asked to volunteer for it the second year I was assistant commanding officer of a Marine Corps company in Kandahar.”

Surprised, Jake’s brows rose. “You’d always wanted to fill a billet in a combat company.”

“Yes, and I got my wish.” Morgan hitched a shoulder. “In part, it was because I had four years of Pashtun language under my belt. My CO, Captain Davis, was desperate for anyone other than an Afghan terp, interpreter, he had to use to speak to the elders. He was trying to make serious headway with a number of villages, and he felt the interpreter was not giving him accurate info.”

“So, your minor in linguistics landed you in Kandahar?” he said, almost to himself.

“Yes. And when Davis found out I was a damn good executive officer for the company, he was a happy man. He gave me more and more responsibility. By the end of my first year I was running missions with the recon Marines. I’d rather be out in the field than in a stuffy tent at a hundred and ten degrees. At least outside, you can breathe in fresh, hot air instead.”

He smiled a little, nodding. “You always wanted combat.”

“I wanted a shot at what I knew I’d be good at, that’s all.”

“You must have been.”

“Davis gave me rave reports for my leadership ability. I had three months left in my second tour when I was invited to volunteer for Operation Shadow Warriors.”

“So, what does this operation do?”

“It takes volunteer officer or enlisted women who want to be in combat and they’re trained up for it. Then a woman is rotated into a SOF team, special operations forces.”

He shook his head. “You were with SEAL teams? I never heard anything about it.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “You weren’t supposed to, Ramsey. It was, after all, top secret. The men in that platoon signed their lives away legally on paper to the Pentagon, never to breathe a word of it.”

“Well, it’s sure as hell worked.” He couldn’t help but look at her left hand. No wedding ring, though he didn’t expect to see one. People in combat never wore jewelry. It could get hung up on a rifle and screw things up in a damned hurry. This didn’t mean she wasn’t married. He couldn’t ask. Morgan was prickly with him anyway, and he couldn’t blame her. He didn’t deserve much respect for what he’d done to her. He’d been a first-class bastard. But damn, she was hotheaded, and when she got wound up, he felt overwhelmed by her intense, focused anger at him.

Morgan allowed her arms to drop to her sides. “My gear is in Hawaii, at the Army barracks. I want to use my sniper rifle on this mission.”

Jake nodded. In a sniper op, there was one sniper rifle shared by both snipers. The other team member always had another weapon on him—or her, in this case—to protect the sniper and play rearguard action if they were discovered. “Okay. I’ll take an M-4 with a grenade launcher on it with me.”

“Good choice. Grenades come in handy upon occasion.”

“Oh? You found that out?”

She grinned wickedly. “Yeah, but that’s a story for another day. I’ve got a SIG Sauer 9 mm pistol. I’m assuming you’re bringing yours along, too?”