Elle James - Six Minutes To Midnight

Agar looked up at her words, his mouth open, tongue hanging out the side. He appeared to be smiling, when in fact he was only trying to keep cool in the incredible heat.

“It’s just as well. He has red hair. I make it a point not to get involved with men while I’m deployed. But even if we weren’t deployed, I couldn’t date the man. He has red hair. Our babies would all be doomed to red hair.” She shuddered. “I wouldn’t wish all of my children to that lot in life. Not if I have a choice.”

Her gaze followed the SEAL as he ran to one corner of the huge field, turned and kept running, his powerful thighs pushing him forward with ease.

Kinsley’s heart beat faster and her breathing became more labored as she watched the man’s tight buttocks and well-defined legs. If she were into gingers, he’d be the one to catch. Thank goodness she wasn’t.

Nevertheless, she slowed to a fast walk, letting McGuire widen the gap between them. She didn’t want to risk running into him again at the end of her run. The man had complication written all over him.

When she arrived back at her quarters, she found a note stuck to the door.

Meeting at command center ASAP.

Kinsley had never received a message like that. Her pulse kicked up a notch, but she focused on staying calm. For all she knew, someone might have lodged a complaint about her exercising Agar too close to the living quarters. Or they were switching her to night shift.

She refused to get excited and dare to think she might be sent on an actual mission.

T-Mac had just stepped out of the shower facility when Big Jake found him.

“Meeting in the command center, now,” Big Jake said.

“Give me two minutes to get dressed.” T-Mac hurried in his flip-flops toward his quarters, threw on his uniform, hat and boots and ran out the door, buttoning his jacket as he went. He jogged all the way to the command center and stepped inside the air-conditioned containerized office unit.

Inside, his team sat around a long, narrow table. Navy Commander Trevor Ward stood at the head of the table, his gaze on T-Mac as he entered. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get this party started.”

T-Mac remained standing near the door, his curiosity piqued, his adrenaline pumping. He preferred missions to boredom any day.

“We’re all ready to mobilize back to the States—” the commander held up his hand “—and as far as everyone is concerned, we will still be leaving in four days. However, we just received intel on a trade deal going down tonight on the border of Somalia.”

The team waited quietly for Commander Ward to continue.

“You might ask what we have to do with trade in this area. But here’s the deal. Someone from around here has been funneling shipments of weapons from around Camp Lemonnier to the Al-Shabaab terrorists in Somalia. Intel intercepted a text communication from a burner cell phone nearby. Apparently, there will be handoff of a shipment conducted tonight in one of the abandoned, shelled-out villages on the other side of the border between Djibouti and Somalia.” He nodded to his assistant, who clicked the keys on a laptop.

A map of the Horn of Africa blinked up on the whiteboard behind the commander.

Commander Ward turned to point at the location marked with a red dot. “The mission is simple. We go in, capture the traitors involved and return them to camp.”

“All in a night’s work,” Harm said. “What’s the catch?”

“Previous attempts by army rangers to recon this village were met with explosives.”

“As in mortars and rocket-propelled grenades?” Buck asked.

The commander’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Not so easy. IEDs and land mines. That’s why we’ll have two additional members on our team.”

As if on cue, the door behind T-Mac opened and a German shepherd entered, followed by Specialist Kinsley Anderson, still dressed in her PT uniform of shorts, a T-shirt and running shoes.

The woman glanced around the room full of men and lifted her chin. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got here as soon as I received word of the meeting.”

“No worries,” the commander said. He waved his hand toward her. “Team, meet Specialist Anderson and Sergeant Agar. They will be with us on this mission tonight.”

All eyes turned to the only female in the room.

T-Mac’s pulse quickened. He’d never been on a mission with a female. Would having a woman in the mix change the dynamics of his team? Not that he was superstitious, but would the others be worried that a woman would jinx their mission?

He glanced around the room at the others’ gazes. For the most part, they appeared more curious than apprehensive.

“Anyone have any issues?” the commander asked.

Specialist Anderson’s chin rose another notch, her gaze sweeping the room full of men, challenging them with just that one look.

Big Jake shrugged. “I’d be glad to have a dog ahead of us. I’ve seen what one can do. They’re pretty amazing.”

“Same,” Buck said. “Rather sniff out the bombs than step on one.”

The rest of the men voiced agreement.

“Then get ready, you leave in—” Commander Ward glanced down at his watch “—one hour.”

T-Mac followed Anderson out of the building. “Do you need help getting ready?” he asked.

“I think I can figure it out,” she said, stepping out smartly and moving toward the containerized living quarters.

Falling in step beside her, T-Mac hustled to keep up. “Is this your first mission outside the wire?” he asked.

She tensed and frowned. “I know my job, and I know what to carry and wear into combat. You don’t have to coddle me because I’m female.”

He held up his hands. “Oh, believe me, I wouldn’t dare do that.” Then he ruined it with a chuckle. “I’d help out the new guy, male or female. I like to come back with all the people we left with intact.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so defensive.”

“I’m sure you have a right to be.”

She lifted her shoulders and let them drop. “I get tired of people underestimating my abilities just because I’m a woman.”

“I’ve seen you two in action. I have complete confidence in you and Agar.”

The dog lifted his head at the sound of his name and then looked forward again, trotting alongside his handler.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about us. We can handle our job. We’ll keep you and your team safe from explosives.”

“And we’ll do our best to keep you and Agar safe from loose bullets.”

She shot him a hint of a smile. “Thanks.” By then, they were standing in front of her quarters. Specialist Anderson frowned. “I didn’t ask where we should meet.”

T-Mac’s lips twisted. “We’ll be loading up in helicopters. If you like, I can swing by and we can walk over together.”

Her frown cleared. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

“My pleasure,” he said, and left her at her door to hurry toward his own quarters, where he’d gear up for the mission ahead.

In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but worry about the addition to their team. The SEALs trained together. They hadn’t trained with a dog handler working out in front of them. Specialist Anderson and Agar might know what they were doing when it came to sniffing out bombs, but they had no experience in hostile environments.

When T-Mac entered the containerized quarters he shared with Harm, his roommate glanced up from assembling his M4A1 rifle with the SOPMOD upgrade. “Hey, T-Mac.”

“Harm.” T-Mac pulled a hard plastic case out from under his bunk, extracted his rifle and pulled it apart piece by piece. He’d cleaned it after his last mission and had assembled and disassembled it a number of times since. Handling his weapon was second nature.