waiter brought over Morgan’s meal, a hamburger and a large plate of French fries. She thanked him, and he left. She saw him eyeing her food. Good God, why did the man have to have such a sensual mouth? Morgan remembered kissing that mouth. He was such a damn good lover, a thoughtful one, despite how they fought outside the bedroom. That was the past. She had to let it go. Seeing Jake stare at the stack of hot French fries, she pushed the plate toward the middle of the table.
“Go on. I know how much you like them.”
“Guilty,” Jake admitted, grinning sheepishly and thanking her. She handed him the bottle of ketchup, knowing that was how he liked his fries. “Been six months since I tasted real French fries.”
She fixed her hamburger, watching Jake through her lashes. “You just get back from Afghanistan and you’re on PRODEV, professional development, with your platoon now?”
“Yes, I was supposed to be on my sixty days of leave.” Jake’s face melted with pleasure as he ate the first few fries. The man was so easy to read when he dropped his SEAL game face. He sat back in the chair, his eyes shuttering closed as he relished and appreciated the food. Some of Morgan’s testiness dissolved.
Morgan understood that the SEALs pined for real American junk food when they were in their six-month rotation into a combat zone. As she bit into the juicy hamburger, she knew six months in combat wore on everyone. SEALs didn’t go into any area that wasn’t life threatening. Since 9/11, sixty SEALs had died in combat. Far too many, but it attested to the sheer dangerousness in their work. They were frontline warriors, black-ops commandos who hunted down the enemy to make this world a safer place for all Americans.
“Gawd,” Ramsey whispered, opening his eyes, “who knew French fries could taste so damned good?” He reached for more.
“The hamburger is to die for, too.”
Jake nodded. “Mine’s coming.” He met and held her green gaze. For once, there was no animosity in Morgan’s stare. He absorbed the peaceful moment between them. God knew, there were never many. He wondered how they were ever going to get along on a sniper op. Would she be able to put her sword away? Could he? But tonight, Jake didn’t want to address those concerns with Morgan. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up tomorrow morning at the briefing with the two Generals, either.
“Here,” Morgan muttered, cutting her hamburger in half. “Get some good food into your stomach.” She handed half of it to him.
Surprised and pleased, Jake took the proffered hamburger. “Thanks…” Their fingers briefly met. The shock, the pleasure running up his fingers, amazed him. Trying not to be swayed by it, he bit eagerly into the hamburger. Maybe, just maybe, Morgan wasn’t going to be hard to work with after all. It didn’t necessarily mean the war between them was over.
Chapter Three
Morgan girded herself for an intense hour of briefing on Operation Peregrine. Jake Ramsey sat opposite of her at a rectangular maple table in a large room deep in the bowels of the Pentagon. The two Generals arrived precisely at 0900. Both officers snapped to attention when they walked into the room.
“At ease,” Maya Stevenson told them with a wave of her hand. She sat at one end of the table, Mike Houston at the other. Houston placed his leather briefcase on the table and opened it up.
“Here’s the mission,” he told them, distributing a thick red plastic folder to each of them.
Morgan saw an Army Sergeant, a woman with blond hair, enter with a tray that held a large pot of coffee, four white mugs, sugar, cream and a plate of Oreo cookies. She smiled to herself, knowing that General Stevenson was addicted to Oreos. Even at 0900.
After the door closed, leaving the four of them in the soundproof, lead-lined room, Morgan tried to relax. She cast a quick look over at Jake. He was handsome, unreadable, his gray eyes somewhat narrowed. Tension radiated from him, but she didn’t see it in his face.
Morgan wondered if he’d argued against her being on the mission. He considered women weak and incapable. If Jake had, there was no outward sign. Glancing at Maya, whom she knew very well because of Operation Shadow Warriors, Morgan saw the General was focused on thumbing through the briefing. At fifty-four, she was one of the youngest women ever to achieve the rank of General.
“All right,” Maya said, “let’s go to page five.”
Morgan opened the red briefing folder, noting it was top secret.
Houston poured coffee for everyone and passed it around. “The cookies are for General Stevenson,” he intoned, a grin coming to his face. “Off-limits to the rest of us non-Oreo lovers.”
Maya smiled briefly. “Roger that.”
Morgan couldn’t help a small chuckle. Right then, Jake looked up, confused, glancing first at Maya and then over at her for some explanation. None was forthcoming as Mike Houston picked up the plate and set it near the General’s left hand.
Jake shifted uncomfortably, which made her wonder how he’d reacted to knowing she was his sniper partner. Sniper teams could go out in the field as a single operator, or as a twosome, depending on the mission. She couldn’t read into his bloodshot gray eyes. Jake must not have gotten much sleep last night.
Houston looked over at Maya. “General Stevenson, want to tell them why this op has been initiated?”
Maya nodded, folded her hands over the briefing. She pinned both officers with an intense look. “Sangar Khogani is an opium warlord in Afghanistan. He’s chief of the Hill tribe, and they are at war with the Shinwari tribe, next door. We couldn’t care less about this except that the Shinwari are under our government’s protection. We’ve given them millions of dollars in the past few years because they asked for our help. They want infrastructure, schools, medical clinics and help in creating a viable economy for the four-hundred-thousand strong in their tribe.
“The biggest reason why we’re involved with them is that the Khyber Pass, between Pakistan and Afghanistan, occurs in their territory. They are the front door to all al Qaeda coming from Pakistan into their country. They’ve promised to give us intel, and they have. They are Pashtuns who live by a fifteen-hundred-year-old code where your word is your bond.”
Jake nodded. He slipped a glance over at Morgan. She had turned her chair, fully facing General Stevenson. Maybe he should, too? A sign of respect?
“Questions?” Stevenson demanded.
Jake said, “Ma’am, it’s my understanding, after being assigned to that region of the Hindu Kush, Sangar Khogani is a menace to everyone in the area.” Jake opened his hands. “The Shinwari call him the Phantom. He’s got two hundred men on horseback and literally strikes and hides in one of those thousands of caves in those mountains. This is the same man we’re talking about?”
Maya looked pleased. “Yes, it is, Lieutenant Ramsey.”
Jake relaxed a little, the General’s smile easing some of his inner tension.
“But let’s move forward to three months ago. Turn to page ten. You’ll see a map.”
Jake turned to the map, instantly recognizing the village of Margha. It was the same one where he and his team had holed up to wait out a blizzard two years ago in December. Heat tunneled through him. It was the village where he’d
