CHAPTER 4
Sloan looked pensive as she stood in the kitchen gazing at the counter and sink. There was so much he wanted to blurt out to her. To try and explain. But it was all balled up inside of him. He knew he deserved no compassion from her. After all, he’d been the one to walk out on her, not vice-versa.
She was excruciatingly beautiful to him. Just having her nearby made him feel different. His life was one gray day after another, and she was like blinding sunlight suddenly walking back into his life. Of all the women in his life, Sloan stood out. She could be herself. She wasn’t coy. She didn’t play games. There was a refreshing emotional honesty to her that Dan never encountered in any other woman he’d had a relationship with. He stood near the counter, watching her check out her meager kitchen.
“I knew you were coming, so I went down to the open-air market yesterday and bought you some fruits, vegetables, and meat.” He motioned toward the refrigerator. “Not sure what you like, but you’ll probably find something in there that’s edible.”
She turned toward Dan, he seemed so tentative and unsure right now, which wasn’t like him. Giving him a grateful look, she walked to the fridge and opened the door, leaning down to get a momentary relief of cold air. There were bottled juices, salad greens, fruits, and even a bag of cereal that looked like oats to her. Opening the small freezer at the top, she saw two chickens in plastic bags. Her heart turned with warmth over his thoughtfulness to take care of her. Closing it, she said, “I’ll pay you back for whatever it cost.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Just didn’t want you arriving hungry and with no food around.” He looked toward the large window in the living room with a view of the airport in the distance. “It’s not like there’s a grocery store you can run down to on the corner and pick up something.”
She pulled out a bottle of pink guava juice. “Want some?” She held it up in his direction. “Come sit with me at the kitchen table, and we’ll talk?”
“Sure.” He retrieved two clean glasses from a cabinet above the sink.
“Any ice in here?”
“Yeah,” he said, “but I just filled the trays before I left to pick you up, so they won’t be frozen yet.”
“That’s okay,” she murmured. She poured the juice into the glasses and sat down. It was so tough to keep her emotions at bay with him.
Taking a sip, she said, “Wyatt wanted me to go over the details of this mission with you. I know he talked to you some already on the sat phone.”
Nodding, Dan absorbed Sloan’s closeness. “I figured you’d lay out the details.”
“Did Wyatt discuss Sharan’s hitman? Fahd Ansari?”
“No, he didn’t.”
In as few words as possible, Sloan painted a full picture of Ansari. “I’m here undercover, Dan. I’ll be your medical assistant. That won’t raise suspicion because part of your flight duties is to take medical groups into the villages everywhere that Delos has a charity.”
“You were an 18 Delta corpsman. What’s your medical designation now that you’re out of the Army?”
“I’m a licensed paramedic now,” she said.
“You were always a great medic,” he said, his voice turning low and thick with memory. He wanted to reach out and touch those long, spare hands of hers, but stopped himself. Her eyes grew thoughtful, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
“I love what I do. It’s a nice feeling to be able to take away someone’s suffering and replace it with comfort and less pain.”
Dan had a direct taste of her bedside manner at the crash site, and those days afterward. He frowned, folding his hands in front of him because if he didn’t, he was going to reach out and connect with her fingers. Dan knew she wouldn’t want to go there. He had no hope there was anything left between them. “When your captain took me and Andy into the caves, I didn’t know where the hell I was.”
“You’d lost a lot of blood, Dan,” she said. “You were in shock, you’d just been shot, and you were in a lot of pain.”
“You were so damned cool, calm, and collected through it all, Sloan. That amazed me. I didn’t understand how anyone could behave like that.”
Her mouth curved faintly, and she looked away, her throat tightening. “I think being a medic, you have to realize that a quiet voice can still be heard through the blast of war going on around you.”
“I sure heard yours,” he said, managing to give her a grateful look. “I didn’t realize how bad off I was until you and the other guys each gave me a pint of blood.”
“I remember that,” she said, her voice turning wistful. “I knew you’d lost at least three pints. We’d been taught how to make a field blood transfusion, and once we found a cave area where we wouldn’t be spotted by the Taliban, I put it into motion.”
“You were really something that night,” he murmured, searching her face. “I’ll never forget it. It was the only thing good about it: you. I didn’t know it was your team we were supposed to pick up. I had no idea where you were out there in the Hindu Kush.”
“You couldn’t know,” Sloan said, “we were on a black-ops mission. The last I saw of you had been three weeks earlier at Bagram. I never knew where we’d be assigned.”
“Yeah, we lived in a world of secrets, didn’t we?” He gave her a wry glance.
“We each led a secret life when we were in the Army,” she agreed. “And speaking of secrets? What can you tell me about the security around your Delos helicopter in that hangar? Is it secure? Can Ansari get in there to plant a bomb somewhere on it?”
“Security is lax at best here in Sudan.”
“What about your mechanics? Are they trustworthy? Or could they be bought off by Ansari?”
“Anything is possible,” Dan said, opening his hand. “I have two really good mechanics. They’re older men who were in the Sudanese air force until they retired. They have families to feed, and I pay a good salary. Ansari could try to convince them to put a bomb on board, but I don’t think it’s likely.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re loyal to me. I pay them three times the amount of money other mechs at the airport are making. Their families are well off, and they’re sending their children to Red Sea University here in Port Sudan. If Ansari tried to talk them into that, their salaries would dry up after the helo was destroyed. They’d be out of a job.”
“That’s a good argument,” Sloan said, thoughtful. “What’s the possibility of Ansari sneaking into the hangar and putting a bomb on the helo without anyone around?”
“There’s loose security at the airport,” Dan said with a shake of his head. “A guard goes around in a vehicle every thirty minutes, driving past all the hangars that are around the facility. It’s not much, and Ansari could jimmie a lock and get inside my hangar.”
“So, how do we deal with this, Dan?”
“I do a pre-flight walk around on the helo before I ever get into the pilot’s seat. I’ll just be looking more closely than usual knowing this.” He liked that she said “we.” Hope threaded through him. There was a solid commitment in Sloan’s expression, and he heard it in her voice as well. If only there could be.
“Can Ansari get inside the Chinook?”
“No. It’s locked up.”
“Who has the keys to it?”
“Me and my lead mech.”
“Then my suggestion is this, we know Sharan has sent Ansari to plant a bomb, most likely in your helo or maybe around the hangar area, so you need to take the keys to the Chinook from your mech. You should be the only person with a set of them. That means one of us needs to be in your office at the hangar when your mechs finish maintenance. You or I will lock up the door to it.”
“Makes sense. Yeah, I can do that, no problem.”
“Can you talk to them about strange men lurking around your hangar?”
“I can, yes.”
“How far can you trust them, Dan?”
“I have to trust them because security is lax otherwise. I think I should show them a photo of Ansari and tell them what he’s up to.”
“Could that scare them off? If they know you’ve been targeted?”
Shrugging, Dan said, “We won’t know until I talk to them about it and bring them in on the situation.”
“No one said this was going to be easy,” Sloan said with a shake of her head.
“Not here. Not in this country. People are starving. They’re desperate. They’ll do just about anything for money.”
“No question. I need weapons. Wyatt said you had some? I’ve also gotten a license from the Sudanese government to carry a concealed weapon on me.”
“Yeah, I have a license to carry, also. I’ve got a Glock 18 with ammo ready for you. It’s in the nightstand next to your bed. You’ll find everything you need with it.”
She looked at her watch. Two hours had passed. “I’ll get unpacked.”
“You’ve probably got jet lag and could use some downtime today.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
“I made us a chicken and vegetable stew for tonight. Would you like to come over and eat with me later? I figured the first day, you’d be whipped and having a decent, somewhat American meal tonight might be nice.”
“I’d like that, Dan. Thanks.” Sloan wanted to say so much more but jammed all those words inside herself. He was his usual, thoughtful self. That was one of the reasons she’d fallen helplessly in love with him was he cared and was considerate of others outside himself.
He scooted the chair back and rose. “Come on over at 1800 tonight?”
“I like that we can fall back into military speak and time,” she said.
*
Dusk was upon Port Sudan, the sky over the Red Sea becoming darker in the east. A gossamer layer of wispy cirrus clouds was overhead, turning pink after the sun had set. The lights along the coast of the port glimmered like yellow jewels in the half-light. Dan was nervous. He looked at his watch. Sloan would show up shortly. His apartment hadn’t been cleaned up like this since he’d moved here. He’d gotten a cleaning lady to come over and rescue his sorry ass because he cared a lot about what Sloan thought of him even if he didn’t care about himself.
He stirred the stew in the pan with a wooden spoon, feeling anxious and looking forward to her company once again. His heart thumped once when he heard a knock at the door. He turned off the stove and opened the door. His heart flew open when he met Sloan’s sleep-ridden eyes. Her hair was down and mussed, a frame around her face. She gave him a soft, drowsy smile of welcome.
“I almost didn’t wake up,” she apologized, stepping inside. “My alarm went off, and I slept right through it.” She moved her fingers through her hair. “I’m late. Sorry.”
“No problem,” he murmured. “Come on in.” He gestured to his table which looked exactly like the one she had in her kitchen. “Have a seat. I’m sure you’re jet-lagged up to your eyeballs and back right about now.”
Making an unhappy sound of agreement, she took a quick look around. The apartment was immaculate and had the same old, worn furniture as hers. The air conditioner in the window chugged along, and it was mildly cool in the room. “I hate jet lag.”
“It’ll take you about a week to adjust,” Dan told her, pulling out a chair for her to sit.
Sloan was touched by his thoughtfulness. That hadn’t changed in Dan, either. “Thanks,” she murmured, as she sat down. In front of her were white ceramic plates, flatware, and a small vase that held a few bedraggled looking wildflowers.
“Where did you get these?” she asked, caressing the red petals of one flower.
“Oh, outside the building. Wildflowers,” he said, pulling down two soup bowls from the cabinet. “Kind of a ‘Welcome to Sudan’ for you.”
She smiled a little. “That was thoughtful of you, Dan.”
“I know how much you love flowers.”
Sloan closed her eyes for a moment. It hurt to remember their past because it had been so good. She thought that the years apart would have dulled her appetite for this man, but they hadn’t.
He brought over a steaming bowl of the stew and dark brown bread, cut into big chunks, setting it on the plate before her. Sloan had changed her clothes and looked hot as hell in a pale yellow capped tee and a pair of well-worn jeans. This time, she had her hiking boots on.
“Nice to know you can cook,” she teased, picking up her knife and a chunk of the warm, moist bread.
“Yeah, that was one thing you didn’t know about me, was it?” Dan came and sat down opposite her. He’d given her the chair that looked out the window over the coast. He saw sadness mirrored in her large, intelligent eyes—and yearning for him. Yeah, he sure as hell felt that invisible tug between them once again. They’d been so damned good in bed with one another, and he could feel his body reacting, remembering. Dan didn’t dare go there with Sloan. It wouldn’t be fair to her. He’d hurt her badly and wanted to say he was sorry for everything he’d done to her. Sloan had put her life on the line to help rescue him from that helo, and he repaid her by disappearing from her life forever three months after the crash.
He forced himself to butter his bread, stealing a glance at her. Dan had never been enraptured with a woman until she walked into his life. She had the capacity to make him hope, to make him honestly believe that she would never abandon him as his mother had.
“I meant to ask you,” Sloan said, dipping the bread into the stew, “how is your right arm holding up?”
“It’s okay.”
“It doesn’t bother you when you fly?”
“No.”
“I remember how worried you were after the surgery. That they might remove you from the Night Stalkers because of it. I know this is from our past, but I never found out what happened to you after you left me, Dan.”
Wincing inwardly, feeling the pain growing in his heart, he forced himself to look at her. There was no censure in her eyes, just that deep honesty of hers. His voice was roughened. “I was finally cleared by the flight surgeon to fly again. The Army investigation on the crash convened shortly after that.”
“What happened then?”
“They said it was a weather-related accident. And then, they sent me to a Black Hawk medevac squadron after the decision was rendered.”
Jolted by the news, she knew how important it was to someone who was seen as one of the best pilots in the Army to be demoted suddenly.
“I didn’t know…I’m sorry Dan. I know how much it meant to you to fly with the Night Stalkers.” Sloan saw the disappointment and loss of his status as a pilot in the Army. She wanted to reach out but stopped herself.
This was the first time she’d heard of his demotion. That one event had broken him. How badly she wanted to ask him if the reason he’d left her was because of the demotion. All along, Sloan heaped the reasons for him leaving on herself.
“Were you shipped out?” she asked, her voice low.
“I got transferred to a Medevac squadron out of a forward operating base, near Kandahar. I remained in the Army for another year after that and turned in my commission. I decided to seek a civilian job flying a helo. I flew one for a hospital in Los Angeles for a year. Got bored with that and that’s when I ran into Delos. They hired me two years ago, and I’ve been assigned to Port Sudan ever since.”
“I see.” She chewed the bread slowly, feeling the emotional energy around Dan.
“Do you like what you do here?”
He shrugged. “It’s a living. I do get to fly, which I love. And I like making a difference in people’s lives. Plus, I’m not bored out of my skull. I translate when I’m out in the field and like doing that.”
There was no passion in his face or voice. She felt as if he were treading deep water in some ocean where there was no land in sight. “I would think you have someone waiting for you at home?”
“No.”
Sloan wasn’t sure whether she should feel happy or sad about the news. He’d nearly snapped the word out of his mouth. She knew that sharpness in his voice and seen it before at Bagram.
“I was hired by Artemis. I wanted to use my medical background to help others. Tal Culver was a good friend of mine back at Bagram, as you probably remember. When she turned in her commission, she became the CEO of Artemis. She called me and asked me to come work for them instead of working at a hospital.”
“Are you happy?”
“Yes, I am. I’ve been on a lot of assignments in Africa and each one of them has been gratifying to me.”
“Do you have a condo near Artemis, then?”
“I found a small house about fifteen miles east of the firm and bought it. It has two acres of land, some fruit trees. I love it. I need the quiet and nature. But,” Sloan said, giving him a wry look, “I’m not home very often. I’ll get a couple of weeks or a month off between assignments, but then another mission comes in, and I’m off, gallivanting to somewhere else in the world.”
“I initially rented a condo in Alexandria after Delos hired me,” Dan admitted. “But since buying it, I’ve only been home for three weeks this year. It’s pretty much sitting there, unused. Tal was telling me I should rent it out and make money off it.”
“We’re global tumbleweeds,” Sloan said, relishing the tasty stew. “Home is wherever we’re standing, Malloy.”
He perked up over her teasing and smiled a little. “You were my home at Bagram. It never got any better than that, Sloan.”