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Harkness hung up and read his notes, then walked quickly into the action center, putting everyone on alert. Damn, a major screwup no one could fix. Geezus, laser guided. Anyone could paint a target. Even a child. What the hell was the US going to do about it?
He stopped at a captain’s desk. The young man snapped to attention. “Sir.”
“Do we have information on automatic weapons and Russian missile trash being hijacked?”
The captain frowned. “No, sir.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I don’t have any information about that, sir.”
“Christ. I need information, locales, names, association, buzz, anything. And I need people on the ground in LA.”
“We may have someone there… or at least soon.”
“Spit it out.”
“There’s a report on your desk about us needing a covert DoD base in LA. But it’s in the preliminary stages. Still being talked about. I don’t think there’s personnel or even an address yet.”
“People to work outside the box?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get me the information and files of every retired SEAL in the last six months.”
“Yes sir.”
Forty-five minutes after reading the report for the covert base and all the files, the general smiled. His top pick was on top of the file folders. Tier One, forced out for trying to save his brother in Bosnia. He’d even done a couple jobs for the CIA. He fit the bill.
He dialed up his aide. “Get me that Russian expert and book me a flight to LAX.”
CHAPTERFOUR
“CanI look in the bag now?” she murmured. Her throat cramped up, and she shifted her gaze, trying to will away the sting of tears, angry with herself.
“Sure.” He shrugged, looking better than any man had a right to look. “Meatball subs from Granahan’s.”
“Oh, God. Really.” She let go of him and grabbed the bag, breathing deep the smell of cheese, tomato sauce, and seasoned beef. She turned to him and narrowed her eyes. “If your charm didn’t work, you came with insurance?” She opened the bag to find two foil wrapped sandwiches and a medium bag of sour cream and onion chips. He did remember what she liked.
“Something like that. I was banking on my charm, though.”
“Not a sure bet?” Everything had been so easy before Dean cruised back into her life, revving his engine. Sure, she had regrets, but now she was wanting more. She wasn’t quite sure what that would entail. Her response to Dean every time she got close to him said it all.
There was still something oh-so-amazing there…between them.
“Not with you, babe,” he said, his voice soft.
She had to acknowledge that she felt pretty much the same. No safe or sure bets between them where the other was concerned.
She really couldn’t blame him, although she had tried through the years. It was true Dean didn’t open up. But what incentive was there when her family was so…awful and she had abandoned him? Even as young as she was, she was firm on what she wanted and that was LAPD. Aware that her only avenue of getting to that dream was towing the line with her parents and what they wanted, she had let them send her away. She had to have her freedom no matter what. Dean was already committed to the Navy and her path wasn’t in San Diego. It had been the most painful decision of her life to let him go.
She played her own ambitions against her parents’ need to control her. Their manipulation and bullying were couched in the edict that it was for her own good, trying to undermine her confidence, her own free will. Even though she had cleverly escaped them, she hadn’t been left unscathed.
She had tried over the years, but she couldn’t regret getting her freedom. The price she had paid for it had been steep, but she was determined even though it had cost her in the past, she wouldn’t pay for it in the future. She did regret hurting Dean. She reached out and gave his hand a squeeze and he squeezed back.
That regret made her seek him out at Granny Steele’s birthday party, hoping to run into him. She had, but the revelation from Chrysanthe had made her realize why he’d been so cryptic about the Navy. He’d been forced to retire. Chry couldn’t give her all the details, but she gave Ophelia enough to know it must have been so hard for him to lose his team.
Here he was making the time to check on her, to make sure she was okay. She wasn’t sure she was, despite saying she would be. Her chest hurt, the bruise a reminder of how close a call she’d had.
