I love you, Rafe.
Each time she’d said it, the pain had been worse, as if the words had been ripping away the scar tissue that covered an old wound.
He didn’t deserve to be loved. He had no right. John was the one who should have heard a woman say those words.
But she had said them to Rafe. She knew the worst, and she loved him anyway. A woman who was beautiful inside and out claimed that she loved him.
And like a goddamn fool, he’d let her go. He’d stood on that platform and watched the train pull out and he’d hung on to the last layer of scar tissue as if it were a lifeline.
“Are you with us, Sergeant Marek?”
Rafe jerked his attention to the major. “Yes, sir.”
“As I said, Specialist Gonzales and I will rappel down the wall to the bedroom located here. Sergeants Norton and Lang will enter by the window at the east end of the hall while you and Sergeant O’Toole will take the office.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The chief has your equipment lists,” Redinger said as Esposito handed each of the men a typed form. “Get your gear together and assemble at the hangar at O-one-hundred hours for a dry run. In twenty-four hours, we do the real thing.”
The major dismissed the team. The men left the building and set off through the darkness with a minimum of conversation. Rafe paused outside the entrance, folded his equipment list and put it in his pocket, still trying to get his mind on business. They would be needing flash grenades and close quarters assault rifles for room clearing. He turned toward the firearms storage area when he was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder.
It was Flynn. He wasn’t smiling. “Rafe, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong.”
“Yes, there is. I’ve never seen you drift off in the middle of a briefing. I told you yesterday, you need to be with us one hundred percent. You’ll be covering my back.”
“I’ll do my job.”
“Then get on with it. This isn’t funny anymore. I’ve been cutting you slack because of the woman, but—”
“Her name is Glenna.”
“She’s trouble.”
“She’s a courageous and intelligent woman who did her best to cooperate with the team.”
“Yeah, I can see by those bags under your eyes you two were probably
cooperating
all last night—hey!”
Rafe looked down. He had twisted the front of his friend’s uniform in his fists. He exhaled hard and released his grip. He opened his mouth to apologize—as maddening as Flynn could be at times, he was a loyal friend who was only trying to help—but instead of an apology, he heard himself give a warning. “Don’t talk about Glenna like that again.”
Flynn scowled. ok, whatever you two have going is your business, but leave it behind.”
Rafe knew Flynn was right. He rubbed his face. He had to get his head straight. The mission was the priority, not the woman. How many times had he told himself that already? “I will.”
“You better, or it could cost both our lives.”
Headlights swept over them as a dark blue sedan pulled up beside the curb. Sarah Fox emerged from the driver’s side and closed the door with a solid thunk. “Sergeant, is there a problem?”
“No, Captain,” Flynn replied. “No problem at all.”
“Sergeant Marek?” Sarah asked. “Did I just witness you laying your hands on another soldier?”
Before Rafe could reply, Flynn gave him a warning poke in the ribs with his elbow and spoke up. “Rafe was straightening my uniform for me, Captain,” Flynn said. “That’s all.”
She rounded the hood of the car and walked over to them. She looked at Flynn first. “One of these days, you won’t be able to talk your way around a problem, Flynn.”
“Just trying to solve it before it starts, Sarah,” he responded.
“Uh-huh. Seems to me as if it’s already started.” She turned to Rafe. Her voice softened. “I’ve never seen you lose your temper, Rafe. Never.”
She was right, Rafe thought. He didn’t lose his temper. It was usually buried under that conveniently dulling layer of scar tissue. He always focused on the mission. He was a soldier. That was his profession and his life.
Until Glenna had dared to make him hope for more.
Glenna. Was she home? Was she already sleeping? Or was she lying awake thinking about him?
Flynn elbowed him in the ribs less gently this time. “You’re doing it again, Marek,” he muttered.
Sarah crossed her arms and continued to scrutinize Rafe. “Did you find Glenna yesterday evening?”
“Yes.”
“She was upset when she left me. She appeared very concerned for your safety.”
Flynn snorted. “She’s the reason he’s dangerous.”
“Shut up, Flynn,” Sarah said mildly. “I like Glenna. I think she’s just what he needs.” She held up her hand. “And I’m not talking about rifle cleaning, okay?”
“You’d better not,” Flynn said, “unless you want your uniform straightened, too.”
Sarah smiled. “She’s the first woman besides me who has seen through you, Rafe. I’d say she’s a keeper.”
“She’s gone,” Rafe said.
“So? You know where she is, don’t you?” Sarah walked back to her car and opened the door. “Once the mission’s over, you can give it another try.”
“There, you see?” Flynn raed his fingers against the form in Rafe’s pocket as Sarah drove off. “Even Mother Hen agrees with me. Mission first, woman second. Let’s go, buddy.”
Rafe didn’t move. He recognized the concern on his friend’s face. He knew what was expected of him, but the more he tried to think like a soldier, the less he could.
“I’ll catch up with you later, Flynn,” he said, turning back to the building they had just left. “I’ve got to make a phone call.”
There was a bank of black pay phones in the corridor just inside the main entrance. Rafe stopped at the first and dialed the number of Glenna’s apartment. He counted five rings before the machine clicked on. He braced his hand on the wall above the phone and listened to her recorded message. Just hearing her voice helped to steady him. “Glenna, it’s me,” he said. “I…”
That’s when it struck him. He didn’t know what to say. Should he apologize for taking her love? Well, he wasn’t sorry. He’d reveled in every second of what they’d done last night.
Should he ask her for a date? Plan a weekend in the city with her a few weeks from now when their schedules allowed? A weekend wouldn’t be enough. Neither would a month.
He hung up the receiver and paced down the hall, then pivoted and returned to the phone. He tried the Winston Hotel this time, in case there was another fund-raiser that Glenna was overseeing. There wasn’t, and according to the manager on duty, Glenna hadn’t been in today.
Rafe thought of where else she could be. It took him almost twenty minutes to obtain her mother’s number, only to be informed by a snooty-sounding butler that Miss Hastings was not there. The man referred him to the army public relations office.
Rafe dialed Glenna’s apartment again, hoping she might be there by now. As before, all he heard was the answering machine. He left a brief message, then slammed the receiver down and stared at the phone. What if she was home and simply didn’t want to talk to anyone? What if she didn’t want to talk to
him?
He couldn’t blame her. She’d bared her heart for him last night. She’d offered him her love, and he’d been too stubborn to let go of his hate.
You didn’t hate your brother. You hated yourself.
He turned around and dropped his head back against the wall. He had less than an hour to assemble his gear before the team did a run-through. He had to get moving if he wanted to be ready for the assault. They had to bring Juarez to justice.
He should be pleased. This is what he thought he wanted. He should be feeling that low-level excitement he got before heading into action.
Instead, all he wanted to do was take the fastest plane to New York and find Glenna.
How could he have let her leave? She loved him. She believed in him.
And if someone like Glenna could love him, then maybe he wasn’t really a monster.
It happened gently, without warning. There in the corridor, with the fluorescent light panel overhead and the bank of pay phones beside him and the impending mission looming aheadhe last shred of scar tissue peeled away. The wound inside that hadn’t healed in sixteen years gaped wide-open, spilling out half a lifetime of guilt and self-loathing. He felt blood on his face, he heard screams on the shore. Others were safe, but John was still down there. Rafe dove one last time and stretched out his arm. Their fingertips brushed, their hands clasped together for an instant…
Which one of them had let go first?
He banged his head against the wall. He didn’t know. Dammit, he didn’t know. He would never know.
But…did he
have
to?
The thought was a new one. It arose slowly from the very center of the wound, no longer buried by the scars.
He would never know for sure what happened the day his brother had died, or how deep his guilt should really be.
Maybe…just maybe…he didn’t have to know.
We are what we make of ourselves, Rafe.
He hung on to Glenna’s words. If only that were true. He put his fingertips on his cheek, tracing the lines that she had touched and kissed so many times. She thought he was a good man, someone who could be loved. Someone who could love her in return.
More than anything in this world, he wanted the chance to prove her right.
He took a few deep breaths and straightened up. He reached for the phone. This time, he knew exactly what he was going to say.
A door opened somewhere down the corridor. There was the sound of approaching footsteps. Major Redinger rounded the corner, a cell phone pressed to his ear. He spoke a few words, closed the phone and slipped it into his pants pocket. He was already frowning before he looked at Rafe. “What are you still doing here, Marek?”
Rafe paused before he could complete the number. “Making a phone call, sir.”
“You should be assembling the ordnance,” he said as he walked past.
“Yes, sir.”
“Now.”
For the first time since he’d put on a uniform, Rafe was tempted to disobey a direct order.
Well, why shouldn’t he be tempted? After all, as Glenna had pointed out, he was human, wasn’t he? He replaced the receiver. “Major Redinger, I’d like to request a leave of absence.”
The major stopped walking. He turned around and strode back to Rafe. “On what grounds?”
“Personal, sir.”
“Are you ill? You seemed to have something on your mind during the briefing.”
“I’m fine, thanks. As a matter of fact, at this moment my mind is clearer than it has been in years.”
“Good. Then we’ll see about arranging something after the mission.”
“Thank you, Major.”
“Can’t afford to lose you now, Marek.” Redinger resumed his progress toward the exit“The mission objectives have just changed.”
Rafe fell into step beside him. “In what way?”
“In addition to arresting Juarez, we’ll be retrieving a hostage.”
“What happened?”
Redinger slammed the door open with the heel of his hand. “It seems Leonardo Juarez hasn’t been in Rocama as the intelligence reports indicated. He’s been here in the States, traveling under the passport of a Nicaraguan businessman.”
A Nicaraguan businessman? Rafe remembered the fund-raiser at Glenna’s hotel, and the man who from the back had looked so much like Juarez. He’d thought it was a false alarm, the power of suggestion. Dread settled in his belly as he followed the major outside. “Garrido. Was that the name he was using?”
“That’s right.”
“I saw him in New York. I didn’t follow up the pursuit because Juarez was supposed to be in Rocama.”
“Intelligence slipped up on that one. He was there, all right. He flew out of La Guardia on a private jet at noon today, so he’s back on the island now. Along with his hostage.” The major looked at him, his jaw tight with anger. “His arrogance is unbelievable. He’s thumbing his nose at our entire country by taking her again.”
Again?
The dread became a vise, squeezing the breath from his body. No. Oh, God, no.
No!
He wanted to go back to yesterday, do things over, take Glenna in his arms and promise her anything and beg her to stay…
But Rafe already knew that you couldn’t rewrite the past, no matter how much you wanted to. “He has Glenna,” Rafe said.
Redinger nodded. “Yes.”
One of the guards was the same as before. Glenna could tell by the smell. It was the same as the smell that had been on the clothes she’d used. He stood in the doorway of the storeroom and used his gun to motion her forward. “Come with me.”
She stood up and brushed the dust from her skirt. The soles of her shoes gritted across the cement floor. She was thankful she still had her shoes this time. The extra few inches of height they gave her helped to stem the rising panic.
Oh, God, how could this be happening again? Once was enough for anyone’s lifetime.
The guard took his cigarette from his mouth, blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling and shifted to one side of the doorway.
Glenna turned sideways to get past, sucking in her breath so she wouldn’t have to touch him. She kept her chin up and refused to make eye contact as two other armed men moved on either side of her. They weren’t taking any chances that she might escape this time.
The walk down the basement corridor was like a replay of a bad dream. But she wouldn’t permit herself to fall apart. Aside from a few minutes of terror when she’d awakened in the storeroom this morning, she’d managed to retain her control. She hahang on. Rafe would come for her. He was a soldier. That’s what he did.
Where was he now? Was he still on the base, preparing for the assault? Or was the team already on its way?
They would know she was here.
She could only pray that Juarez didn’t know they were coming.
Oh, God. It had been bad enough when she’d stood in the briefing room surrounded by maps and charts and plans. She’d been tormented by the thought of Rafe and the men she’d come to know risking their lives on the mission. Now there was no distance to numb the fear. She could hear the heavy tread of the guards’ boots and see the deadly looking rifles they carried. Delta Force was good. The best. But all it took was one stray bullet and—