Chapter 1
Kat Greenwald reached for her screwdriver and gently tightened the last adjustment on the state-of-the-art prosthetic leg in front of her. This was a new design, with a wider top, better balance, less material over all, but she hoped it was also stronger. Not the usual carbon fiber and polypropylene. Titanium had been added to the base, with a few other metals mixed in for strength. It still wouldn’t be enough.
The man to wear this one was bent on destruction and refused to have the last surgery that would make his mobility that much better and his pain that much less. In her mind, she’d pegged the reason as he didn’t care—or didn’t think he’d live long enough to be bothered.
And she could do or say nothing to stop him from his chosen path. With a heavy sigh she stood and passed the prosthetic to Badger Horley.
Without a word, he took it, examined the changes she’d just made, gave a quick nod and put it on over the soft cotton wrapping on his stump. He stood and walked around the room.
Kat watched the huge man in front of her. He’d walked into her office and lab six months ago, desperate for her to put a leg on the end of his stump. But he hadn’t been ready. The flesh on his stump hadn’t healed enough. Any pressure caused a flare up and swelling, followed by infection. But he’d been adamant. He was determined to get on with his life.
She watched his face, not the leg, as he stepped around the room. The stump wasn’t healed enough for her liking even now. He needed to stay off it for another three weeks. But that took her back to his stubbornness.
“You shouldn’t stay on the leg more than ten to fifteen minutes at a time,” she warned. “Otherwise you’ll end up damaging the tissue next to the prosthetic, and the stump’ll never heal. You know perfectly well your last infection damn near killed you.”
He shot her a hard look but stayed silent.
She shrugged. “Or don’t look after yourself. See if I care.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Right.” She kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. When she came across somebody as driven and as angry as a badger, his namesake, she needed to stay the hell out of his way. The trouble was, she didn’t want to stay out of his way. And the last thing she wanted was for him to head off on his personal vendetta. Revenge was a bitch. And it wouldn’t keep him warm at night. There was always a price to pay when you went down that road.
Still, she had one more thing she could try.
She took the screwdriver back to her workbench and placed it in the case with the others. She turned and leaned against both her hands, so he couldn’t see her white-knuckled grip on the bench. In a low voice she said, “Stone called.”
He acted like he didn’t hear her as he paced the room, testing his mobility, but she watched the muscle twitch in the corner of his jaw.
“He asked for your number.”
He straightened and slowly turned to face her. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him that you are on a death mission. And likely to get yourself killed.”
His gaze held a fury she had not seen before. She’d known it was inside, carefully hidden. It was evident in every line on that heavily muscled body as he twisted and turned, stretched and bent. Motions hard, sharp, jerky. When he put something down on a table, it landed with too much force. When he stood, it was too fast, chairs bouncing backward. Nothing in his life was relaxed and calm.
“You had no right.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “No right to what? Answer his questions? I didn’t overstep your HIPAA privacy rights. Stone and I have talked about prosthesis designs and shared findings long before you were my patient. He knew you were coming to see me but not from me. He called me, as your friend. And I’m not your therapist, but I have an opinion regardless. Plus you never said anything was top secret or superconfidential,” she said in a hard tone. “You and I never really talk. I don’t know where you live, who you’re after or what asshole you’re planning on putting six feet under. Stone asked me how you were doing, and I told him the truth.”
Badger sucked his breath back and glared at her, his teeth clenched tight. “And what truth was that?”
“I said that you were hell-bent on killing yourself and wouldn’t give your leg time to heal, and that I expected to hear you died from a septic infection within six weeks. That you were so focused on revenge that nothing else mattered, including having a future.”
Badger snorted. “I have been looking after myself for a long time now. And my future does matter—at least once I deal with this issue. So no way would I let an infection like that take over my system.”
She crossed her arms under her breasts. “Says you. But I’ve seen a man just as big and just as mean dropped for that exact reason. He became so focused on making sure he got back to what he considered a normal life that he forgot the warning signs. By the time he came in to me for an adjustment and an extra set of pads for comfort, he was already too far gone. But he wouldn’t let anybody look at it. He wouldn’t let anybody touch it. I’m the one who called the ambulance and had him shipped to the hospital. I never saw him again because he didn’t make it. Four days later he was dead.”
And that was no lie. It was one of the saddest truths she knew. She swore she’d never let that happen to another patient. But Badger was… well, Badger was past the point of her being able to do anything about his impending demise.
Not physically but emotionally, psychologically.
He stared at her, his gaze searching. “You’ve never mentioned that case before.”
“Just like you, I have things I’d rather not talk about,” she said smoothly. “And a patient I couldn’t save—even though I’m the only one who acted in his best interests—makes it very difficult for me to speak about him.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Four years. The kid was twenty-eight.”
Badger’s breath let out in a whoosh. He slid back inside himself, rethinking his actions. “My leg is not that bad.”
“Your leg is bad. By the time it’s that bad, it’ll be way too late.”
He rubbed his forehead. “I’ll go home and take this off, and I’ll wander around with crutches for a while. Will that make you happy?”
She shrugged. “It will make me happier. To see you stop your vendetta would make me the happiest.”
He glared at her. “You take too much on yourself.”
“I’ve been working with you for six months. I know dozens just like you. But you’re the only one who’ll ram his head against a brick wall in order to find the asshole who ruined your life.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know anything about it.”
“Of course not. You don’t talk. At least not to me. I highly doubt you’ve gone to a therapist either.”
“I’m not that stubborn. It took a long time to deal with what happened.”
“Adjustment always takes time. This wasn’t an easy thing for you. But you’ve been flat on your back how many times since because you can’t get that leg to heal? If you mess up now, in any way, you’ll have major repercussions.”
He raised both hands in frustration. “I know that. I’m not stupid.”
“So then why is it I’m not allowed to tell Stone anything?”
Badger dropped his extremely muscled weight into the small chair she had set off to the side for visitors. She deliberately didn’t keep it too comfortable. The last thing she wanted was for people to stay. They could come tell her whatever it was she needed to do to help them, and then they could leave. But she wasn’t sure that chair, even for a short time, would sustain his mass. Badger came in the extra-large variety. At six-feet-six, 280 pounds, with both legs, he was a monster of a man. She’d never seen him lose his temper, but she knew it was big and hot and flashed fast. She could only hope he got over his anger just as easily.
“What did you do to my new leg?” he asked in an attempt to change the discussion.
“Changed the height of the cuff, ground down the edge and put a better joint in the knee. And, no, I haven’t gotten to the point of building a weapon in there, but it’s coming.”
For the first time in a long time, a grin flashed. The same grin that had slammed into her heart six months ago when he had walked in her doorway for the first time.
“If and when you can do that, I really would like to be first on the list for that prototype.”
She shook her head. “I’m not in the business of making weapons.”
“You don’t have to make them. You just have to find a way to hide them with easy access for us when we need them.”
“I might have an idea or two on that. That’s another reason Stone keeps calling. He’s got a similar idea.”
Badger nodded. “Stone’s a good guy.”
“That’s what he said about you.”
Badger dropped his gaze to the floor. “Did he say what he wanted?”
“I told you that he wanted your contact information. Something about having a lead.”
Badger sucked in his breath, and his gaze locked on hers as if trying to reach into her soul and give her a shake. “Why didn’t you say that in the beginning?”
She furrowed her brows and snapped, “I did.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “No, you didn’t. Not about him having a lead.”
“It’s not like he’ll tell me anything about the business between the two of you. But, if you were asking him for help, or if he was getting information for you, why the hell doesn’t he have your contact information himself?”
“I lost my phone,” Badger said quietly.
She studied his face for a long moment and shook her head. “Like hell.”
Surprise hardened his gaze. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head again. “If you lost your phone, it’s because you made it get lost. You’re up to something. Before you leave town, make sure you pay my bill. If you’re not coming back, I won’t get paid.”
He bounded to his feet, pulled out his wallet and handed her his credit card. “Then let’s clear it up now.”
She snatched the card from his hand and stalked to her desk, quickly taking care of the paperwork. The damn bill had nothing to do with this. She wanted something to shake him up. Jolt him out of his focus. When she turned and handed his card back to him, she said, “You have choices, you know.”
He nodded, put away his credit card and walked to the front door before turning to look at her. “Sometimes those choices are made for us.”
“No,” she said, her tone soft, quiet, sad. “We still have to choose how we react. I don’t know what devil is riding you, but I can guess. The thing is, if you keep going down that path, you’ll never find the peace you want.”
“Yeah, so now you’re a shrink as well as a prosthetic designer?”
She shrugged, trying not to show the hurt deep inside. What had she expected? “I don’t need a shrink’s education to tell me that you’re in a bad way. Everything you do is driven by anger and revenge. There is more to life than finding out who did this to you.”
“It’s not about who did this to me,” he said, his tone hard, sober. “It’s about who did this to my friends. Particularly Mouse, who right now would be dancing for joy to have a leg like mine. Only he can’t because he’s six feet under the ground.” On that note he turned, walked through the front door and slammed it shut behind him.
Badger walked out of the office, down the stairs and headed toward his truck. He was still riled on the inside but didn’t dare show it. He had to control everything. She’d been wrong about one thing. He had been to a therapist. Several of them. He had been resistant to the idea, and it hadn’t been an easy process. He kept hoping they would let him skate on the bigger issues. And finally, after quitting and trying again, several times over, he’d broken down enough to start discussing the real issues. But, even after that last therapist, Badger had walked out after her words wouldn’t stop ringing through his head. She’d been adamant about him leaving behind the need for vengeance.
Bullshit.
Didn’t anyone realize just how big this was? Didn’t they realize his life had no meaning now that Mouse had died for nothing? He’d lost other friends in missions for the US Naval Services. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL. But none of them had hurt quite so bad as Mouse’s death.
There’d been something about Mouse. His unit had all looked at Mouse like their own kid brother. The seven of them pre-Mouse had been tight, a team forged long before Mouse showed up. At first, they hadn’t been sure about Mouse joining them. But, when they saw the fuzzy-cheeked, scraggly looking kid, they’d shaken their heads and adopted him into the group. And he’d been the one who died. They’d all lost limbs, some more than one. But they were all alive.
Except for Mouse.
Badger knew accidents happened. He knew war happened, and there was never any good way to deal with such life-altering injuries. But he knew something had gone wrong that day. Their orders had changed at the very last minute. Somebody, somehow, had deliberately sent them in the direction of that buried mine. His gut told him so. For eighteen months his mind and brain had warred over the issue before finally landing on the same side as his gut. And that breach of ethics was inexcusable. He just had to find out how and who.
Then maybe he could move forward.
No way could he move forward if he didn’t make that asshole pay. He just didn’t know how yet. Hell, he didn’t know who yet either.
Sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night with his fists clenched, his body locked in agony—his mind reliving over and over again how he lay in the hot sand, hearing his friends crying out beside him. But two years ago, the way he was positioned, all he could see was Mouse crumpled beside him. That had been the day from hell.
When he struggled to inspect his own body, he found his leg gone, his gut wrenched opened, and his arm and back filled with shrapnel. He’d managed to get a call out for help, then dragged himself to Erick’s side, grabbing his hand and telling him to hold on. He didn’t remember much after that. He lost consciousness and woke up in the military hospital just before they put him under the knife. He remembered crying out to the doc to save Mouse first, and the doc slapping a mask over his face and telling him to go to sleep. He had slept but not by choice.
And when he woke up, his worst nightmare had come true. The others tried to tell him to ease back, and he knew they all felt the loss as keenly as he did. But, for some reason, he couldn’t get over it. He hoped they had. He stayed in contact with all of them, but he wasn’t sure any of them felt this same need that he did for vengeance. He knew it was twisting him up, poisoning his life, stopping him from having a future, like everybody around him urged him to have. But how did he move forward when he knew somebody had deliberately thrown him and his team into this nightmare? And was probably sitting back and laughing about it.
He shook his head, unlocked his truck door and hopped in. That movement pulled a muscle in his back. He sat there, gasping for a long moment. Just as he put the keys in the ignition, his phone rang. He pulled out his cell, saw the name on the screen and smiled. “Well, I guess she handed you my contact information after all. Stone, what’s up?”
“Not much. You?” Stone’s voice was hard, determined, and yet there was a hint of caution. As if he was determining where the hell Badger was on this path called life.
Badger smiled. “I’m sitting outside Kat’s office. She made some changes on my prosthetic. I’m hoping this time it won’t sore my leg up quite so bad.”
“You know it needs time to heal. Give your leg a break before you wear the prosthetic again. Not everybody has a clean amputation. They try, but some tendons and muscles don’t grow back the way they’re supposed to.”
“Isn’t that the truth? Apparently I had nothing but hamburger left. Trouble is, every time I put any weight on it, it still feels that way,” he growled.
“I know the feeling.”
Badger leaned back to stare out the window. That was the thing about Stone. He was in the same boat Badger was in. But he had been there a little longer. He’d had time to heal. Time to adjust. Badger was still dealing with the original fallout. “Why’d you call, man?”
“Got a little bit of intel.”
“Yeah, on what?” He turned on the engine while he waited for Stone to spell it out.
“On a directive that sent you in a certain direction that morning.”
Instantly his hand turned the key to shut off the engine. The silence filtered around him like some kind of shock wave. “What directive?” he asked, his voice quiet. It had to be quiet because he wanted to reach through the phone and shake Stone, clasp his hands around the big man’s neck and squeeze for taking so long to give him the answers Badger was so desperate to receive.
“Not a ton of information yet, just a line.”
“Tell me,” Badger barked.
“The plans were changed that morning, but you didn’t hear that from me.”
“From what plan to what plan?” Badger asked. Why would the directives have been changed? “How good is your intel?”
“It’s good. It’s just that it’s been two years. According to the intel, somebody is finally talking. But he was at a bar, drunk. So I don’t know how good it is.”
“You just said it’s good.” Inside Badger could feel hope starting to splinter. Over the last couple years, he’d heard lots. People pointed in many directions. It always came down to the fact it was an official decision. It was an accident. Nobody knew about the land mine. Things like that happened in war. He understood that. But, at the same time, he’d wondered. They’d been redirected, on a different route. Why?
Had somebody known that land mine was on that road? The road they were instructed to take had been changed. Was it just a shitty coincidence, or was somebody really sabotaging an entire unit? And, if that was the case, why?
He’d racked his brain over the last two years for the same damn reason. Not one of his team knew anything worth getting killed over. Everybody knew the same shit. They hadn’t been on any particular mission in the weeks prior. They hadn’t been hunting down any one asshole over any other asshole. The world was full of them. When they were working in Afghanistan, there were more than a few. But they hadn’t been after any leaders on that particular day. It had just been a shitty accident, according to the report. But inside Badger knew it was more than that. He just hadn’t been able to prove it.
“You still there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here. Whatever you’ve got, shoot it to me in an email, will you?”
“Will do.” Stone hesitated for a moment, then added, “And give that damn leg a rest, will you? When the time does come to move, you won’t be ready if it isn’t.” And he hung up.
Badger snorted, tossed his phone on the seat beside him, turned the engine back on and pulled out into traffic.
Stone was right about one thing. The leg wasn’t any good as it was right now. He needed to get off it and let it heal a bit more. But he sure as hell hated to. He’d put out a ton of money trying to get the information he needed. And, so far, there’d been nothing. All coming back negative. Somebody—somewhere—had to know something. His worst nightmare was to continue searching for answers only to find out there really weren’t any, and it was truly a shitty accident. If he could believe that himself, then maybe he could learn to live with it and move forward.
There were other things to want in life. At one point in time, he’d wanted a family. Now? Well, hell. A steady girlfriend would be a step up.
His mind fleetingly went to Kat. The only woman to interest him in years. She was one hell of a woman. Smart, intelligent, capable, direct. He liked them direct. That she was missing a leg wasn’t something he held against her. And, if nothing else, it made her more sympathetic to him. And him to her.
The trouble was, he didn’t want sympathy. He wanted to be the dashing hero who swept her off her feet and carried her into the wild blue yonder. But that wouldn’t happen. He was doing weight training again. Part of the reason why his stump had bombed out. Although Kat didn’t weigh much, he certainly wasn’t up to doing that kind of coordinated effort.
He drove down the main road for another couple miles, then took a right, thinking about what Stone had said. Had he deliberately held back a little bit? Badger knew Stone. They were the same type of guy. But Stone had somehow gotten past his anger. His personality was more laid back. But then again, Stone losing his leg had been part of an active mission. Not like Badger, driving over a land mine when your unit was potentially not where it was supposed to be in the first place, doing some recon work.
He shook his head. “I’ve got to get out of this endless loop.”
It took another ten minutes to get home. Badger opened the truck door, stepped down, landed a bit hard on the sore leg, swore a blue streak and slammed the truck door shut. Dotty, an aging coonhound, greeted him with her usual loving barks and yelps. He’d found her on the side of the road where she’d been shot by her previous owner. He’d picked her up, plucked out the bullet himself, got her back onto her feet and had been looking after her ever since. Or was it really that she looked after him? They were both lost and wounded dogs.
She was good people, and he was doing the best he could to be good people to her. They’d both learned some tough lessons, and the bottom line was, people couldn’t be trusted. Now if only he could find out who the hell had betrayed him and his team.
Just as he walked in and pulled a cold beer from the fridge, his phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket. “Kat, what’s up?”
“You left some of your gear here,” she said. “That’s not like you.”
He swore softly. “What the hell did I leave?”
“The original pieces on your leg that you’ll need for spare parts. And your multitool that you brought out to show me how you’ve been trying to fix the one joint. When I told you to put that piece of crap away, you didn’t. You just set it down.”
“I won’t need either of those for the next couple days. I’ll stop by when I head back into town next.”
“Good enough.”
He thought she’d hung up, but he heard her swear. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” she said quietly. “I’ll see you in a few days.” Then she did hang up.
He stared at the phone in his hand and wondered. Something about her voice had been odd before she ended the call. What the hell was wrong?
He placed his phone in his pants pocket, snagged his beer and headed out on the porch. Whatever the hell was wrong, it would be a long cold day before she told him. He couldn’t afford to be sidetracked, even by the very sexy Kat. Unfortunately.
Sitting on the wooden chair he kept on the porch, yet still unsettled, cold beer in hand, his laptop balanced on his thighs, he brought up his email program and waited for Stone’s email to land in his inbox. He clicked it open as soon as it had and read the short message. He pulled out his phone, quickly dialing Stone. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that you had a name?”
“You didn’t give me much chance.” Stone’s tone held a bit of humor. “I figured you’d get back to me when you read it.”
“I want to talk to this guy,” he said.
“Good luck with that. He wasn’t very talkative to anyone apparently.”
“Do you have any contact information?” Badger reread the email but still didn’t get anything more from it. “Your email is a little short on substance.”
Stone chuckled. “I don’t want you going off half-cocked and getting yourself blown up again.”
“Why not? The first time was so much fun.”
Stone’s voice dropped all hilarity when he said, “This could be bad. You know that.”
“I know. It’s not just about me. There are seven of us. We’re all in various states of getting back on our feet. I haven’t spoken to them about this, but, now that I have a lead, I know they will want to know who’s behind this. It’s up to us to find the asshole who did this.”
“Then let us help. While you know a lot of men still active in the units, there’s our team out here.”
“You guys are more of a unit now than you ever were.” Badger thought about Levi and the crew he’d pulled together that made up the company of Legendary Security. “But it’s bad enough that some of us will risk our lives and whatever is left of our pensions and medical support to do this. We don’t want anybody else to get hurt.”
“Bullshit.” Stone gave a half snort. “You can pull that line on somebody else. Not with us. You’ll need help. You’ll need weapons. You’ll need intel. We’ve got eyes in the sky, and we’ve got people all over the world. You know that.”
Badger pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he was doing way too much lately. It went along with the frustration in his life. “Some of that might be helpful, but, if it ever comes back that you civilians have stepped into naval matters to make this happen, you know it won’t go well for Levi or anyone else. And that’s not good.”
“And you know that, if Levi gives you a hand, Mason will want to do what he can too.”
“Oh, hell no. He’s still active duty. That’ll be treason if he gets caught.”
“Treason?” Stone’s voice took on a thoughtful, pensive tone. “Treason if we find the asshole who blew up our own units? Somehow I don’t think that’s the definition of treason. Will Mason get official clearance to help? I doubt it. But that doesn’t mean he won’t cross the line and do what’s right. You know Mason is all about doing what’s right. He’s a man of honor.”
“He is that.” Badger couldn’t argue that point. They were all the same breed. After he ended the call, Badger got up and looked across the yard. The pool twinkled in the light. He ignored it. His mind was twisting and turning on this tidbit of information. He finished his beer, walked back inside to the fridge and grabbed a second one. Just as he popped the top, he heard the ding on his laptop, telling him another email had come in.
He walked around the desk to check it. Another one from Stone. No wording, just a phone number. Badger raised his eyebrows, pulled out his cell phone again and dialed the number. Instantly a message on the other end of the line swept through. A voice almost recognizable.
But not quite. He frowned as he listened to the standard I’m not here but please leave a message at the sound of the beep. Instead he hung up and dropped the phone on the desk. The least Stone could have done was say a little bit more about who the number belonged to. And maybe that was the trick. Stone had a phone number but no names. Intel, when it came, was often only a portion of what they needed. Badger sat down and searched a site for the phone number but came up with nothing.
His phone rang a few minutes later. He picked it up and frowned when he saw the same number ID on the display dial. “Hello?”
“You called me.” The voice was hard, curt.
“I did. Looking for information on a change of orders from two years ago.” He heard the sucked-in breath of the man on the other end and realized this asshole knew something. “I pay for solid information,” he said calmly.
“How much?”
Badger leaned back in the chair and thought about this turn of events. “It depends on how good it is.”
“It’s hard to say. Two years is a long time ago.”
“Do you know something, or don’t you?”
“I know the order was changed.”
“I know it was changed too. But by who and why?”
“A phone call came in, saying the original route was bad, and to make a last-minute change.”
Badger leaned forward and then stood. “Who made that phone call?”
“I don’t know. It came through secure lines. It had to be somebody out in the field that morning.”
“Was the information checked and confirmed?”
“There was no time. In order to save the men out in the field, the change of direction was done immediately.”
Badger swore softly under his breath. He could see that happening. Any intel had to be accepted or rejected on the fly. Information was fluid. They would pick up a tidbit here and a tidbit there. But they had to be prepared to act. They’d been given their instructions; then they’d been given a new set on the way. It hadn’t been anything they had questioned. That was why they’d taken the change of direction. “No way to find out who that phone call came from?”
“Not with the security level I have. Or at the level anybody I know has.”
“Any suspicions?”
The man took a deep breath. “Yeah. From inside the truck that blew up.”
And he hung up.