accepted his marriage to her mom, and though she gave voice to her acceptance of him, there lurked in her a hesitation. “You would suggest that he’s not smart with me.”
She narrowed her eyes and batted long brown hair from her shoulders. “Tony respects you. Admires you—”
“And you do not?”
Timbrel snapped her mouth shut. Considered him. “I wouldn’t have let my mom marry you if I didn’t. But I also know the games you play, the alliances you toy with. In fact, I’m not really sure any of us know where your allegiance rests.”
Sajjan came out of his chair and eased around his desk to her side. “I am grateful for your respect and admiration, and I would ask that you let that guide you.”
“I am. That’s why I’m here.” Undaunted. So like Nina.
“Daughter,” he said softly, noting how the edges of her hard shell seemed to wilt beneath that word. “My allegiance is to my family first and my country second.”
“And God?”
He lifted his chin, smiling down at her. “Above all others.”
“So. Afghanistan before America.” Defiance glinted in her expression. “You realize Tony is American. I am American. So—”
He touched a finger to her lips.
She slapped it away, scowling.
“Trust me, Timbrel. But do not demand of me what you know I will not give, and at the same time, believe me when I say I would never intentionally put those in my family in harm’s way.”
She gave a curt nod. “Fine.” Backed up a step. “I’ll sic Beo on you if Tony gets hurt.”
As if responding, the retired working dog growled from the shadows of a corner, and then the bullmastiff’s nails clicked on the highly polished floor as he trotted out ahead of the firebrand. The door closed.
A low rumble of laughter came from the side office.
Sajjan turned toward the door. “You heard that?”
Tony VanAllen walked in, his chest out a little more than normal. His chin a measure higher. “I’d say I have nothing to fear with her watching my back.”
“And you were worried about your back?”
“Not in the least,” Tony said, his expression sparked with conviction.
He had chosen the former Special Forces soldier for good reason and after much deliberation. With all the years Sajjan spent working the tricky waters of politics in this volatile area, he could not be too careful. “What have you said to her of what we’re doing?”
“Nothing. Timbrel just knows I’m working. And after what happened”—he patted his leg, indicating the prosthesis—“she’s a little protective.”
“A little?” Smiling, Sajjan returned to his desk. Scanned the recent encrypted reports. Heaviness weighted his optimism about turning this region around financially and politically. “I think we should plan for you to return to Raptor team as a contractor.”
“Contractor—might as well send me in as the enemy.” Tony rubbed the scruffiness around his jaw. “You think it’s necessary, I’ll go. But—can you get it set up?”
Sajjan gave him a look.
“Forget I asked—but seriously? Are you asking me to spy on my own brothers?”
CHAPTER 6
Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan
26 March—1545 Hours
A storm blew into the Command building, a cluster of soldiers stalking past her cubicle. General Ramsey, Captain Watters, Titanis, and yes—Sal, trouped toward the rear of the building.
Cassie came to her feet.
Foreboding draped their countenances like a thick, heavy blanket. They were ticked. Determined. So much that they didn’t even notice or acknowledge her. She moved to the edge of the cubicles, watching. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Her phone buzzed. Not her work phone. But the other phone. Cassie scurried back to her desk, tugged open the drawer, drew out the black nondescript phone, and glanced at the ID. Gearney—her handler.
She coded in. Pressed the phone to her ear. “This is Lieutenant Walker with DIA.” The words had to be spoken exactly in that order. She glanced around the room,
She narrowed her eyes and batted long brown hair from her shoulders. “Tony respects you. Admires you—”
“And you do not?”
Timbrel snapped her mouth shut. Considered him. “I wouldn’t have let my mom marry you if I didn’t. But I also know the games you play, the alliances you toy with. In fact, I’m not really sure any of us know where your allegiance rests.”
Sajjan came out of his chair and eased around his desk to her side. “I am grateful for your respect and admiration, and I would ask that you let that guide you.”
“I am. That’s why I’m here.” Undaunted. So like Nina.
“Daughter,” he said softly, noting how the edges of her hard shell seemed to wilt beneath that word. “My allegiance is to my family first and my country second.”
“And God?”
He lifted his chin, smiling down at her. “Above all others.”
“So. Afghanistan before America.” Defiance glinted in her expression. “You realize Tony is American. I am American. So—”
He touched a finger to her lips.
She slapped it away, scowling.
“Trust me, Timbrel. But do not demand of me what you know I will not give, and at the same time, believe me when I say I would never intentionally put those in my family in harm’s way.”
She gave a curt nod. “Fine.” Backed up a step. “I’ll sic Beo on you if Tony gets hurt.”
As if responding, the retired working dog growled from the shadows of a corner, and then the bullmastiff’s nails clicked on the highly polished floor as he trotted out ahead of the firebrand. The door closed.
A low rumble of laughter came from the side office.
Sajjan turned toward the door. “You heard that?”
Tony VanAllen walked in, his chest out a little more than normal. His chin a measure higher. “I’d say I have nothing to fear with her watching my back.”
“And you were worried about your back?”
“Not in the least,” Tony said, his expression sparked with conviction.
He had chosen the former Special Forces soldier for good reason and after much deliberation. With all the years Sajjan spent working the tricky waters of politics in this volatile area, he could not be too careful. “What have you said to her of what we’re doing?”
“Nothing. Timbrel just knows I’m working. And after what happened”—he patted his leg, indicating the prosthesis—“she’s a little protective.”
“A little?” Smiling, Sajjan returned to his desk. Scanned the recent encrypted reports. Heaviness weighted his optimism about turning this region around financially and politically. “I think we should plan for you to return to Raptor team as a contractor.”
“Contractor—might as well send me in as the enemy.” Tony rubbed the scruffiness around his jaw. “You think it’s necessary, I’ll go. But—can you get it set up?”
Sajjan gave him a look.
“Forget I asked—but seriously? Are you asking me to spy on my own brothers?”
CHAPTER 6
Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan
26 March—1545 Hours
A storm blew into the Command building, a cluster of soldiers stalking past her cubicle. General Ramsey, Captain Watters, Titanis, and yes—Sal, trouped toward the rear of the building.
Cassie came to her feet.
Foreboding draped their countenances like a thick, heavy blanket. They were ticked. Determined. So much that they didn’t even notice or acknowledge her. She moved to the edge of the cubicles, watching. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Her phone buzzed. Not her work phone. But the other phone. Cassie scurried back to her desk, tugged open the drawer, drew out the black nondescript phone, and glanced at the ID. Gearney—her handler.
She coded in. Pressed the phone to her ear. “This is Lieutenant Walker with DIA.” The words had to be spoken exactly in that order. She glanced around the room,
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