CHAPTER EIGHT
YOU DON’T THINK they’d really have us run all the way home, do you?” Sam asked hopefully as the intense Mexican sun did its best to fry them to little, crispy bits. At least Holden was pretty sure it was the Mexican shoreline they’d been running along since sunrise. In truth, as rugged as the rocky coastal terrain was along this coast area, they could just as well have been somewhere in southern California, except that they hadn’t seen another soul for the past six hours. That kind of ruled California out, since it was almost impossible to walk fifty feet on a California beach without stumbling over someone.
With the Golden State off the menu and the air temperature being way too hot for Oregon, that left Mexico as the only logical choice. Probably the western side of the Baja peninsula. Which meant if they were expected to run all the way back to San Diego, it would take a week or two—and some passports.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Dalton huffed out with a tired grunt as he, Noah and Wes jogged up the beach several yards ahead of Holden and Sam. All five of them were outfitted in full tactical gear, Kevlar vests and weapons included. “Headquarters might get off on having us run the soles off our boots, but even they realize there isn’t a whole hell of a lot of training value in making us run until we pass out.”
It was obvious Dalton wasn’t thrilled to be here, but with Chasen gone on his honeymoon now, the CIA had insisted there be a fifth member for this training, even though they still refused to officially tell them what they were supposed to be doing.
Beyond training their ass off.
“I think you might be giving HQ too much credit,” Noah said. “Sometimes I think they do stuff like this because they believe it builds character.”
That comment earned a few snorts of amusement, from Holden included. None of them had the energy to waste on laughter. Holden wasn’t surprised. He and his Teammates might be some of the most physically fit spec-op troops on the planet, but they’d been moving nonstop since well before midnight, when they’d gotten picked up from Naval Air Station North Island by a CV-22 Osprey and transported to the deck of an unmarked and unlit cargo ship.
It was only after they’d reached the ship that Holden realized they were on another training exercise related to the same scenario they’d worked on the previous week. But this exercise was different than the first one. Instead of going through the motions of clearing the ship, this time they’d already secured the ship and had to track down and capture several terrorists who’d escaped.
It had sounded simple at first. Jump in a Zodiac boat, chase down a few make-believe bad guys, get back home to Kendall by breakfast. But the damn thing had ended up taking the entire night as they were forced to run for hours to catch three pretend terrorists who looked like they probably ran cross-country marathons for fun on the weekends—while running for pay Monday to Friday.
They’d finished the exercise right before dawn only to find they weren’t done. After turning over their captured prisoners, they’d been told they needed to hoof it to the extraction point ten miles up the beach. When they’d gotten there, however, there wasn’t a bird waiting. Just a message explaining the site had been compromised and that they needed to move to the next location. When they’d gotten there, they’d found the same message waiting. It was obvious someone was busting their chops. No doubt, that same someone was probably pissed off they’d caught the bad guys sooner than they were supposed to.
“You think there’ll actually be a helicopter at the next extraction point,” Sam asked dubiously.
The kid was tired, but still maintained good speed in the tightly packed sand down close to the water line, even with all the tactical gear he had on.
“I hope so,” Wes muttered. “I’m ready to get the hell off this beach and go home. Preferably before tomorrow night.”
“You sound like a man who’s worried about missing a date,” Dalton teased. “You finally going out with Kyla?”
“It’s not a date,” Wes said sharply, a lot sharper than necessary considering the guy had to know Dalton was messing with him.
“It’s not, huh?” Dalton said. “Are you and Kyla meeting up somewhere to hang out together, as in doing something social like eating dinner, going to a movie, or whacking a golf ball across a small course decorated with cheap, imitation dinosaurs?”
“Well, yeah, but…”
“No buts,” Dalton stated flatly. “It’s a date, dude.”
“It’s not a date,” Wes insisted, picking up his pace and forcing the rest of them to keep up. “Kyla asked if I wanted to go see a movie with her and her friends from school. You know, those two guys she always hangs out with—Owen and Andrew.”
“Damn, are you seriously that clueless?” Sam asked. “We’ve all seen the way she looks at you. She probably invited the Tweedle Twins so you wouldn’t feel pressured to consider it a date.”
Wes muttered a curse. “I already told you—we’re just friends. There’s nothing else going on.”
Everyone was silent for a while after that, nothing but the steady thump of boots on hard sand and the slight sound of deep breathing.
“I can’t believe I’m agreeing with Sam, especially since the last time he was on a date it was with his sister’s Barbie dolls, but I think he’s right,” Dalton said. “Kyla’s been trying to get you to notice her for a while. So, what’s your problem? You don’t like her or something?”
Holden couldn’t see Wes’s face clearly, but if the way he tensed as he ran was any indication, he was seriously uncomfortable with where this conversation was headed.
“Of course, I like her,” Wes said. “Kyla’s about as perfect as any woman could be. But she’s had it pretty tough the past few years with her father’s murder and stuff, and I’ve always gotten the feeling that she thinks of me more as a friend than someone she wants to jump into bed with.”
“Any reason you can’t be both her friend and her boyfriend?” Holden asked. “Did you ever think maybe that’s what she needs more than anything?”
Wes considered that. “Maybe, but I’m not going to risk our friendship to see if I’m right.”
Holden wished he could say Wes was wrong, but he had to admit, the guy was doing the exact same thing he’d do in his situation.
“While we’re on the subject of women,” Noah said over his shoulder. “What’s going on with you and Kendall? From what I saw at the wedding, you two seem serious.”
Holden shrugged, which was tough to do while running. And kind of useless when the person who asked you the question was in front of you and couldn’t see what you were doing anyway.
“I didn’t plan for it to turn into anything serious when I helped her out with that asshole ex of hers at the rehearsal dinner,” he admitted. “I figured I’d help her out of a jam and that would be it. Now, she’s staying at my place.”
He’d told them about Kendall’s place getting trashed during the Osprey ride last night. The only thing they’d wondered was whether he wanted them to track down Isaac and beat the shit out of him.
“But this is more than just giving Kendall a safe place to stay, right?” Wes prompted. No doubt he was glad they were talking about something other than him and Kyla.
“Yeah, it is. Or, it was.” Holden frowned, thinking about the look on her face when he’d left last night. “But then we got the call for this exercise and now I’m not so sure.”
“She freaked out?” Dalton asked.
“Not really,” he said, vividly remembering the look on her face as he’d stood there taking the call. “In fact, she didn’t say much about it. But I saw the panic in her eyes. She obviously didn’t like the idea of me leaving like that, especially since I couldn’t tell her where I was going or when I’d be home.”
“Kendall wouldn’t be the first woman to have a problem with that.” Wes said. “You think she’s going to be there when you get back?”
“I’m not sure.” Damn, he hated even thinking about the possibility. “But I’ve seen that look on a woman’s face before…when things get too real too fast. It’s the same look Mia got in her eyes before she bailed on me.”
Dalton threw another look over his shoulder. “It might not be that way with Kendall. She strikes me as strong and independent. She seems like a woman who can put up with you being a SEAL.”
Holden didn’t say anything. What was there to say? He hoped Dalton was right. Because the idea of Kendall going back to her apartment with Isaac still out there being an asshole worried the hell out of him.
He was still thinking about it thirty minutes later when they finally reached the coordinates for the extraction point and didn’t find a chopper waiting for them. Sam cursed. He wasn’t the only one. Holden muttered a few expletives himself as he tapped the buttons on his military wrist computer to pull up the location of their alternate pick-up point.
So much for getting home anytime soon. He only hoped Kendall wasn’t worrying about him too much.