Uncaged Love, page 26
She took on the world with fervor, the way she took on him. He didn’t want a passive woman in his life. He needed a woman who was as balls to the wall as he was, someone who could keep up with him. What he really needed was someone to challenge him. Why hadn’t he seen that before?
He couldn’t stand it any longer.
Rafe pulled her to him and kissed the spot where the maniac had placed the barrel of his gun. He stroked her back slowly. “I can’t let you go.”
He took her mouth with a kiss so possessive that it took his breath away when she returned it just as forcefully. She was perfect for him. He loved everything about her. He loved that she was smart and strong-willed. He loved her fortitude. She’d need all that to put up with him. They were matched in every way possible, and he loved her to his soul.
He couldn’t lose her now. He couldn’t let her go.
Harper brought her hand to Rafe’s face and ran her thumb across his lips. Her touch was warm. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d gone. When she lightly brushed her lips over his, heat shot through him in that now familiar jolt. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her against his entire body.
“I love you, Harper. And I know you love me.”
She leaned back and gave him a quizzical look.
“I heard your words in that alley,” he confessed.
He took her hand and placed it over his heart. “You’re in me now. And I don’t want to lose you. Ever.” He kissed her, pouring all the emotions he didn’t have words for into their connection.
“Harper, I love you. I want you in my life, every day. I know what you do for a living is dangerous, and I respect the hell out of what you do for our country. But when you’re done, I want you to come home to me.” Rafe looked into familiar eyes, but he couldn’t read them. “Marry me.”
Harper stared at him for the longest time. He could almost see the inner debate.
“Yes,” was all she got out before he captured her mouth with promises for their life together.
“Ahem.” A deep familiar voice sounded from behind Rafe. Rafe didn’t want to stop kissing Harper. She’d said yes.
Chapter 30
“Rafe, Harper, sorry to interrupt, but there’s an important message.” Preacher’s voice sounded urgent.
Rafe kept one arm around Harper as he turned them toward the large man who filled the doorway.
“I see your brain reconnected. Are you through being an ass?” Preacher admonished.
With a silly smile he couldn’t wipe away, Rafe announced, “She said yes. We’re getting married. Want to be my best man?”
Smile on his face, Preacher held out his hand. “Congratulations.” They did that manly one-armed hug, back-thump thing before they quickly separated. Preacher held out both arms to Harper, who practically threw herself into him.
“Hey, that’s my woman.” There was a shot of jealousy at the sight of his best friend holding his fiancée. Yes, the woman who would, very soon if he had his way, be his wife.
Harper stepped out of Preacher’s arms and back into his. She gave him a little squeeze. Damn, if that wasn’t the best thing he’d felt in years.
“Hey, man, I’m here because your boss is burning up the airwaves. You need to do the E.T. thing and phone home. The captain told him you were in sick bay, so he bought you some time.”
“Thanks, Preacher. I appreciate it.” He really didn’t care about his boss. Harper was going to marry him.
“After you shower, let’s meet in the ward room, say…in thirty minutes. You both need to eat, and I’m starving. I’ve got to check on my men. Later.” With that, his friend left them alone.
Rafe turned to Harper and affectionately held her face in his hands. He searched for the answer to his unasked question as if it was somewhere between her lips and her eyes. He said nothing, just scanned her every feature. He needed to hear the words she hadn’t spoken since Popayán.
That’s when she got it.
“Yes, Rafe. I love you.” She kissed him but didn’t let him deepen it the way he wanted. “Go.” She stepped back. “Go shower and make your call. I’ll meet you in the ward room.”
He couldn’t help himself. He stepped back in for a quick little kiss then ran for his assigned room and a shower.
Five minutes later, Rafe stepped out onto a catwalk and into the past. The familiar heat of the flight deck radiated through the soles of his boots. The smell of jet fuel and hydraulic fluids invaded his lungs. Wind created by the forward motion of the ship combined with the natural hot breezes south of the Tropic of Cancer forced Rafe to lean forward or he’d have been blown over.
There had been a time in his life he’d loved this. It’d meant a mission for his team.
Instead of one hundred pounds of gear strapped to his back, weapons secured to his legs, and a helmet heavy with night vision and infrared equipment on his head, tonight Rafe wore a borrowed lightweight flight suit. Its khaki color stood out from the deck crew’s navy blue working uniform pants and jerseys, which were colored depending on their job. It always amazed him how many people scurried around the ship in the wee hours of the night.
It was the city at sea that never slept. The first time he’d been on an aircraft carrier, the salty chief on his team had told him a carrier was a man-made steel island with an airport on top, a nuclear power plant in the basement, and five thousand people crammed in between. Every single person onboard had a job to do, and as a SEAL with shiny new silver lieutenant junior grade bars, his was to be sure he was ready to do anything his country asked of him when the orders were given.
For just over ten years, first as a SEAL then as a CIA agent, he’d done everything they’d asked of him. That would end tonight.
Rafe watched the crews’ red, blue, and green lights bounce around the flight deck as they secured equipment from the last launch/recovery cycle. The Osprey that had rescued them wasn’t the only plane in the air from the Reagan. An E2C Hawkeye reconnaissance plane had tracked their every movement from twenty-three thousand feet above the earth. The Navy’s newest fighter jets, F/A18F Super Hornets, met them the second they hit international airspace and escorted them back to the ship. Hundreds of sailors had been involved in their rescue. Rafe wished he could thank each and every one of them. He was so glad to be out of Colombia and headed home with Harper at his side, forever.
He lifted his head to stars, as if he could see the numbers he’d punched into the satellite phone travel through space.
“School Boy reporting in.” He couldn’t wait to get rid of that handle, or any code name.
“About time. The old man’s been stomping around waiting for your call. Putting you through.” The man at Ops Com Center didn’t wait for his reply.
“School Boy, you should have called from the rescue plane.” Deputy Director Tom Gillpatrick was not happy with him.
“Yes, sir.” Rafe knew his double vision, which thankfully had disappeared, and the noise of the Osprey were no excuse. He should have contacted CIA headquarters as soon as they were safe. Or at least as soon as they’d landed on the Reagan. He’d screwed the pooch on that one and was due the wrath.
“Miss Tambini is now safe, thanks to you and the SEALs. You’re still responsible for her and must assure her safety to D.C. Report to Langley as soon as you hand her over to USSOCOM guys at Dulles Airport.” There was a backhanded thank you in there someplace.
“Yes, sir.” Rafe had anticipated that last part.
“Plan on staying there for a few days, maybe even weeks. You have a lot to debrief.”
Well, hell. In the five years he was with Carlos Narváez, he’d reported in regularly, and no one had seemed very interested. Now they wanted to pick his brains to pieces.
“Yes, sir.” Those two words were all that Rafe seemed able to say.
“You have quite a bit of vacation time accumulated. Take thirty days to decide where you want to go next. With your language skills, we have several countries available for your next tour.” Gillpatrick already had him leaving the U.S.A., and he hadn’t gotten there yet.
No. That wasn’t going to happen.
“Sir, as soon as I reach Langley, you’ll have my resignation.” Rafe was through with the CIA, but for several long minutes, the DD tried to convince him to stay.
Finally, Gillpatrick said, “Do you want to transfer to another branch of government service, or do you have a civilian job lined up?”
“No, sir. Neither. I’ve given our country ten years of my life. I’d like to give the civilian world a try. I’ll find something.”
There was a short pause before Gillpatrick offered, “Have you ever heard of a company called Guardian Security?”
“Yes, sir. Harper mentioned them. They offer bodyguards and security systems.”
“That’s not all they do, son. They…almost exclusively…employ men with your…training and are—” Gillpatrick’s hesitancy suggested he had chosen his words carefully.
“Sir, I have no desire to become a mercenary, even one under U.S. government contract. I want to get away from this life.” Rafe had rudely interrupted the man who was still his boss.
The chuckle was crystal clear, although it had traveled thousands of miles into space and back to the ship. “No, no. They specialize in high-risk corporate security, both personal and facility. Check them out. I know one of the owners very well and would be happy to recommend you.”
Flabbergasted at the generous offer, all Rafe could do was say, “Thank you, sir. I’ll do that.” Rafe hesitated only a second, but he had to know. “Sir, may I inquire as to the status of Melina and Jacin? Did they make it out of Colombia?”
There was a long pause, so Rafe braced himself for the worst. When DD Gillpatrick finally spoke, it wasn’t what Rafe expected to hear. “I know you and your handler became close. It’s a situation we, as an organization, do not condone, but we understand the strain on agents who have been under a long time. Because I don’t believe your resignation has anything to do with her, I’ll tell you that Jacin is hospitalized in the D.C. area and expected to make a full recovery. Thank you for assisting them. We’ll talk when you get to Langley. Gillpatrick out.” The line went dead.
Rafe stared at the phone in his hand. Parts of that conversation had gone better than he’d imagined. He was glad Jacin was home safe in the U.S.A. But his boss really hadn’t said anything about Melina.
Rafe stuffed the cell into his side pocket and headed to the ward room. He couldn’t remember when he’d last eaten.
Food in the middle of the night was proof they were special. Even though it would be hours before breakfast was served, they had hot food available.
Rafe picked up the glass plate emblazoned with the USS Ronald Reagan crest and heavy silverware. The culinary specialist stifled a yawn as he waited for Rafe’s order.
“I really appreciate you being here. It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten American food,” Rafe admitted.
The CS, who couldn’t have been more than nineteen, smiled at Rafe. “Then, how about a burger and fries? Nothing is more American than that. It’ll just take a minute. I’ll bring it out to you, sir.”
Rafe piled salad onto his plate then joined Preacher and his team. He pulled up a chair next to Harper, who’d made a thick sandwich from the cold cuts on the salad bar.
“So did Daddy yell at you for not calling as soon as you were safe?” his old friend egged Rafe from the other side of Harper.
“Yeah.” Rafe bit into fresh lettuce and a cherry tomato drenched in creamy ranch dressing. It tasted wonderful. He was hungrier than he’d thought.
“I’m sure you have to report to Langley,” Harper said.
Rafe nodded and swallowed. “He said my debriefing might take a couple of weeks. Have you talked to your people?”
“Yes.” She glanced around the table at the men then shrugged. “A colonel from SOCOM will meet me at the airport. I’ll be debriefed, a.k.a. grilled over open flames.”
At the acronym, the men all stared at her.
Preacher threw his arm around her. “She’s a sister in arms. And one kick-ass Army captain.”
They seemed to accept his explanation and returned to their food.
A double cheeseburger with the works appeared on the table in front of Rafe. “This looks awesome. Thanks,” Rafe said over his shoulder.
“If you want another, sir, I’m right over there,” the CS said with a broad smile and pointed to the grill.
“Hey, can I get one of those?” a SEAL from across the large round table asked. Before the CS could answer, requests came from several other team members.
“Sure, the grill’s hot.” He left to fill the orders.
“Damn, this is sweeeet,” one of the SEALs commented. “We usually eat a power bar and pray it holds us over until they serve breakfast. You two must be really important.” Realizing that he may have said something out of line, he looked at Preacher for admonishment. When none came immediately, the enlisted SEAL lowered his head and continued eating with greater speed.
Rafe remembered those days and was thankful for the VIP treatment tonight.
He dragged a fry through a puddle of catsup. “I told him I quit. I’m free after the debrief.”
“Whoa, man. So what are you going to do? Look for a civilian job?” Preacher stared and popped chips into his mouth.
“Have you ever heard of a company called Guardian Security?” Rafe asked. “The DD said I should check them out. He knows one of the owners and actually offered to make a call on my behalf.”
“No shit,” said one of the SEALs. “I’ve heard it’s pretty tough to get a job with them.” The twenty-something man looked at him with increased respect.
“My old CO runs the Guardian Miami office,” Doc said. “He told me to call him when I decided to get out. They pay really well. But doctors make a lot of money too, so I’m thinking med school.”
Harper interjected, “My Army teammate, Tori, knows those guys. When she’s in D.C., we go out clubbing with her friends. They always have a Guardian bodyguard.”
“Who are your friends that they need a bodyguard?” Although one of the older SEALs across the table had asked the question, Rafe wanted to know the answer too.
“They work for the government, like me. They’re nobody famous or anything. Not sure why they need a bodyguard. Maybe it’s because he gets to carry a gun inside the beltway.” Harper shrugged and sipped her soda.
“Are these women hot?” Preacher asked.
“They’re all beautiful.” She smiled at Rafe’s old friend. “Call me when you get to D.C., and if they’re in town, I’ll introduce you.”
“Me, too,” the chorus of single men sang around the table.
“Hey, I don’t want all you guys calling my wife when you hit the States. Find your own women.” Rafe didn’t like the idea of any man calling Harper. Especially horny SEALs. He’d been one of those guys and knew exactly how far they’d go to get laid.
She leaned back and crossed her arms. “Rafe Silva, I’m not your wife…yet.”
“You will be by the time these guys get leave.” He had plans for the two of them. None of this long engagement shit. He wanted Harper in his life, in his bed, immediately. Permanently.
He turned his whole body toward Harper and dropped his voice. “I’ve got to finish some things with the CIA, but I plan on taking Deputy Director Gillpatrick up on his offer about Guardian. Wouldn’t it be great if I could work for their D.C. office? If not, I’ll find some other job. There are plenty of beltway bandits around there. Then I’ll find us a great place we can call home.” He squeezed her hand. A kiss would be too much PDA in the open ward room with the SEAL team watching.
“I have a great place I call home in D.C. It’s a big condo with a wonderful view, and, hey, Guardian Security must also do residential because they protect my place. I’ll talk to Katlin, I think she knows the owner.”
“That’s divine intervention if I’ve ever seen it,” Preacher announced. “Your boss and Harper both have connections to Guardian. Doc, too. I have a good feeling about this.”
Harper concentrated on her sandwich for a long minute. When her eyes returned to his, she had a look of resolve and hope in her melted chocolate eyes. “Will you move in with me, Rafe?”
“Hey, look guys.” One of the SEALs pointed to the large flat panel TV on the wall, where sparks flew from a volcano lighting the night sky with reds and golds.
“Looks like we left too soon,” another said. “Puracé just blew.”
“No,” Harper declared. “We had plenty of fireworks of our own in Colombia, especially in Popayán.” She squeezed Rafe’s hand, letting him know the double entendre.
He loved this woman and would for the rest of his life.
“I’ll stick to the Fourth of July fireworks over the National Mall from now on, thank you very much.” Harper leaned in close and whispered into his ear. “We can watch them from our bed.”
Epilogue
Four days after returning stateside, Rafe pressed the button to release the electronic fence to the secure parking area at Harper’s condo. It had been one hell of a week. Debriefing at Langley was never a picnic, but at least they had given him the weekend off and allowed him to stay with Harper rather than locking him down at CIA headquarters. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure why he was getting this preferential treatment but he was not going to complain. He was pretty sure Deputy Director Gillpatrick was his guardian angel.
Rafe pulled his new truck into the second parking space allotted for Harper’s condo and got out. As he headed toward the front door he looked around the crowded lot. Three identical black Land Rovers sat side-by-side. He wondered if they were some kind of a fleet car or if the building’s residents just had an affinity for the expensive vehicle. With nearly every space now filled, he considered that someone may be having a party, it was Friday after all. He hoped, if that was the case, they wouldn’t be too loud. He was looking forward to spending a quiet weekend alone with Harper. Getting out of bed would be optional.
