Chapter 8 #4
She nodded. “I’ll be ready,” she told the two men. Sergeant Vandine nodded back and immediately turned to head out of the chow tent. Derek glared at Aspen, and the rest of the men at the table for a beat, before following the other man.
“He’s such a dick,” Grover said under his breath.
“Yup,” Aspen agreed easily, then she scooted back her chair and picked up her tray. “Looks like we’re all about to be busy.”
Everyone followed suit and picked up their trays and headed for the trash and tray depository.
Brain had worked with female soldiers before. He respected them as much as he did anyone else. But his protective instincts went into overdrive thinking about Aspen headed out into the villages to search for a murderous terrorist who wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet in her brain.
But he reminded himself that she’d been in the country for over a month and was damn good at her job. She wouldn’t be attached to a Ranger unit if she wasn’t.
After they’d deposited their trays and left the chow tent, Brain caught Aspen by the upper arm. The rest of his team headed off to the tent where their duffles and other equipment had been sent. “Be careful out there,” he told her.
“I always am,” she said immediately. “You be careful. You don’t know the area yet and some of the villagers are pretty damn hostile.”
“I can handle them,” Brain told her.
Then Aspen smiled. “So…we’ll be working together? I mean, sort of?”
He grinned. “Looks that way.”
“You aren’t going to be all cavemanish and protective while we’re out there, are you?”
“Can’t promise that,” Brain said honestly. “But I’ll do my best to rein it in.”
“I’d appreciate it,” Aspen said. Her eyes swirled with uncertainty though.
“What?” Brain asked.
“I just… Never mind, it’s stupid.”
“What, mpenzi? Tell me.”
“What language was that?” she asked, stalling.
“Swahili.”
“Seriously? Jeez, Kane, I think I doubted that you really knew so many languages, but I don’t anymore. Swahili? Good Lord.”
“What was that other thought?” Brain asked firmly.
She sighed before admitting, “I just don’t want you to think less of me for any reason.
I know you’re the best of the best, and while I’m confident in my abilities, I’m probably not up to the standards that you and your team are used to.
I want you to be proud of me. To make sure you don’t regret standing up for me. ”
Not able to keep his hands to himself, Brain reached out and put his palms on her shoulders.
He wanted to pull her into his embrace, but had to settle for this.
“I don’t expect you to be perfect, just as I hope you don’t expect me to be.
All we can do is keep our eyes out for the enemy and be prepared to act however we need to in order to stay alive to see the sun rise another day. Understand?”
She nodded.
“I’ll always be proud of you,” he told her softly.
“From everything I’ve seen and heard, you’re making the best of a shitty situation.
Your team should always have your back, and for some reason, your guys can’t seem to get their heads out of their asses.
It’s probably because the leaders—namely Derek—have them so confused they’re retreating from you just to make things more comfortable for themselves. ”
“I don’t blame them,” Aspen said.
“Of course you don’t. Because that’s not the kind of person you are. But I do,” Brain told her firmly. “Now, go get ready. We’re gonna kick some terrorist ass and take down this Akhund guy. The sooner the better, so we can get back to Texas and move our relationship to the next level.”
Her eyes widened at that. “You’re assuming I want to,” she said cheekily.
Brain smiled. “You’re right, I am. But the need to taste your lips again, to strip you naked and feel you under me, can’t be all one-sided.”
She licked her lips and said shyly, “It’s not.”
“Good. Now…go before I fuck up and kiss the hell out of you right here and now.”
“Kane?”
“Yeah?”
Aspen took a deep breath. “Thanks for sticking up for me today.”
“Always,” Brain told her.
She took a step away from him, and he dropped his hands. Then she turned and headed for her tent without looking back.
Knowing he needed to get his mind back in the game, and start thinking about the mission ahead of him, Brain stalked toward his own tent. He prayed they’d be able to find this Akhund guy and get the hell out of Afghanistan sooner rather than later.
Abdul Shahzada—known as Muhammad Qahhar to the officials on the American base—watched stoically from behind a tent as the cocky American soldier walked away.
Internally, he seethed.
He hated Americans. All of them. He was working on base as an interpreter, right under their very noses, to gain intel for the Taliban.
And the fact that he’d just been lectured by one of the Americans didn’t sit well with him.
How dare the man listen in on a private conversation?
How dare he lecture him, Abdul Shahzada?
He wasn’t a man anyone talked down to if they wanted to live—and yet that’s exactly what the American had done.
Forced him to apologize to a woman.
That wouldn’t go unpunished.
He’d learned more about base operations by just listening to other soldiers talking around him, assuming he wasn’t listening, than they’d ever believe.
For instance, he knew the Delta Force team had arrived to hunt down Mullah Abbas Akhund.
But like the others, they were idiots. They didn’t yet know for certain that Akhund wasn’t the man they should be concerned about.
He was the public face of their group, but Abdul was, in reality, the man in charge in this region.
Abdul also knew he should inform Akhund that he needed to lie low, but honestly, he was sick of being in hiding. He wanted to publicly take his place as the head of their local faction. He wanted to prove to their leaders that he could take control—and keep it.
Akhund was on his own. If he got killed, so be it. It would be the will of Allah.
Abdul also wanted to make every single American who worked at the base pay. Pay for their interference in his country. Pay for their wicked ways.
His mind went to the female soldier. What if he ordered her to be taken?
She was a whore, consorting with many groups of men on the base.
She wore a uniform that should be reserved for real soldiers, and she acted too friendly with the local men.
She was attempting to lure them away from Allah—and that wasn’t acceptable.
Taking her would also be a blow to the man who’d defended her.
He’d probably go out of his mind, wondering where she was, what was happening to her.
It was a perfect scenario…except for a few things.
Abdul had seen firsthand how crazy the American leaders got when one of their soldiers disappeared.
They spared no expense or resource to find the person and bring them home.
Not only that, but the whore was protected by not one, but two platoons of men.
Three if he included the group that arrived today.
She wouldn’t be easy to obtain, no matter how much he wanted her.
Hearing something nearby, Abdul turned and saw an American food worker exiting the chow tent. She had hair the color of the devil, and she was so short it was unnatural.
As she walked away, oblivious to his presence, an idea bloomed in Abdul’s gut.
What if it wasn’t a soldier who was taken?
What if it was a lowly contractor?
He followed the small American at a distance, taking note of the fact she didn’t interact with the soldiers she passed. It didn’t look like anyone really even noticed her. She would make a good mark. If she disappeared, not many would notice or care.
He could take out his displeasure with the Americans on her.
It was doubtful the US government would put up much of an outcry if a contracted worker went AWOL. The Americans were stupid enough to believe she’d just left…and he’d be able to take as much time as he wanted with her.
She’d most certainly cry and beg him for mercy. But he wouldn’t give it. Every drop of blood she spilled would make him stronger.
Taking revenge on the meddlesome, insufferable Americans was his main goal.
Making the devil woman suffer, and teaching his followers how to interrogate and torture a real live person—much better than simply telling them how it was done—was a start.
She would be a teaching opportunity for the movement.
Grinning to himself, Abdul continued to observe as she entered one of the tents on the outskirts of the base.
Perfect.
Knowing he wouldn’t have long to wait before he was publicly in charge of the region, Abdul slipped back into the shadows. He could be patient. One day soon, the small devil woman would become a useful tool in his arsenal, and no one would even realize.
It was one more way to thumb his nose at the infidel Americans who dared try to tell him and his people how to live and what to believe.
His time was coming—and it was going to be glorious.