stand still for a moment. If he did, the memories overwhelmed him.
He stared at the shadowy figures of the steel soldiers. They were so lifelike Jack felt as if he could fall in step with them and complete the mission.
His heartbeat quickened. As he took a step forward, a vibration against his side brought him back to reality, making him stop.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out his cell phone. The name on the screen read Declan O’Neill.
Jack didn’t hesitate. He pressed the talk button and pressed the phone to his ear. “Yeah.”
“Dude, where are you?” Declan asked, his tone crisp.
“Downtown DC near the war memorials. What’s up?”
“Got a mission for you.”
“Give it to me.” He needed action. Anything to take his mind off the anniversary of Kylie’s death and the loss of his friends in battle. Declan’s call was a lifeline thrown to him in troubled waters. A reminder that he was still among the living, and he had a team of friends to work with.
Declan gave him the address of a pub not far from where he was. “There’s a female there who’s afraid to leave. Someone tried to grab her on her way to the Metro station.”
“What does she look like?” Jack asked.
“Long, straight black hair, blue eyes. Wearing a business suit. Tell her Mrs. Halverson sent you.”
“Got it. I can be there in less than ten minutes.”
“Make it five. The pub is closing. Let us know when you get her to safety.” Declan ended the call.
Slipping his helmet over his head, Jack left the steel soldiers to their mission, mounted his motorcycle and commenced with his own mission. He’d hoped for something more than escorting a damsel in distress home for the evening, but at least it gave him a purpose and something else to think about besides Kylie and dead comrades.
Ignoring the speed limit signs and only slowing for the occasional light, Jack made it to the pub in four minutes. A few men straggled through the door, laughing and shaking hands.
Jack scanned the surrounding area for anyone lurking in the shadows, waiting for a lone woman to step out of the pub and into his path. When he didn’t see anyone or any movement in the shadows, he parked his bike on the curb and entered the pub, passing by a large man standing near the door.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” someone called out from the bar.
“I’m not here for a drink. I’m here to pick up a lady.”
The bartender snorted. “Sorry, we’re closed for that, too. Always. Unless the lady wishes to be picked up.” The man chuckled at his own humor.
A black-haired woman in a dark blazer and skirt slid off a bar stool and faced Jack. Her blue eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed into a thin line. She stood stiff, and silently maintained her distance, looking as if she’d bolt if he made a move toward her.
This had to be the woman he’d been tasked to collect. “Mrs. Halverson sent me,” Jack said.
The woman drew in a deep breath and the stiffness seemed to melt from her frame. “Oh, thank God.” She slung her purse over her shoulder and nodded. “Let’s go.”
“Hey, lady,” the bartender called out. “You gonna be okay?”
She turned toward the man. “I think so.” She smiled. “Thanks.”
Before they left the building, the woman stopped and frowned. “I guess I should know your full name.”
With a half smile, Jack held out his hand. “Jack Snow.”
She took his hand in her smaller, softer one and said quietly, “Anne Bellamy.”
“You want to tell me what happened?”
She handed him her cell phone with an image of a map with the directions painted in a bright blue line. “Not here. Not now. I just want to go home. That map will get you there.”
He shrugged. “Have it your way. My ride is outside.”
When she started to go through the door, he placed his hand on her arm. “Me first.”
Anne nodded and let him go through the door ahead of her.
He stopped on the other side and glanced in both directions, taking his time to be thorough in his perusal of the buildings, alleys and every shadow. When he was fairly certain they were alone, he held out his hand.
Anne placed hers in his and let him guide her to the curb, where his motorcycle was parked.
The big guy who’d been lurking near the entrance followed them outside.
Jack shot a narrowed glance his way as he fitted Anne’s cell phone into a holder on his handle bar. “Is this the guy who tried to grab you?”
“No. That’s the bar’s bouncer. He’s just making sure we aren’t attacked,” Anne said. She faced the motorcycle, a frown drawing her eyebrows together. “This is your ride?” The frown deepened. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”
“Well, tonight must be your lucky night. Unless you want to wait another thirty minutes to an hour for one of my buddies to come get you, you’ll have to take your chances.” He swung his leg over the bike and patted the cushioned seat behind him. “Don’t wait too long. You’ll only be giving your attacker the opportunity to make another attempt to grab you.”
“How…” Anne tried to swing her leg over the bike, but her A-line skirt hampered her maneuver. Finally, she pulled the skirt up high enough to allow her to mount the cycle and settle behind him. “No judging,” she mumbled.
He grinned. “Great legs. Sorry, couldn’t help it.” Jack handed her a helmet and helped her to adjust the strap beneath her chin. Then he pulled his own helmet over his head and cinched the strap. “Hold on around my waist.”
She placed her hands on his hips, barely squeezing, amazed at how firm they were. A rush of awareness rocked through her.
“Seriously?” He took her hands and pulled them around his middle. “Now hold on tight. This beast has a powerful takeoff.”
As if to prove his point, Jack cranked the engine and twisted the throttle. The motorcycle sprang forward.
Anne clenched her arms around him in a death grip so tight she was certain Jack could barely breathe. He slowed the bike a little and drove down the street at a more sedate pace.
He looked back with a grin.
Most likely, he was happy to have startled her.
The grin disappeared and a frown replaced it in
