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Authors: Kallypso Masters

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ROAR (6 page)

BOOK: ROAR
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More likely, though, he was becoming energized about the art of the upcoming deal. Nothing revved him up more than the possibility of going after something to increase Gunnar’s portfolio or merely to acquire something his cousin wanted. Kristoffer’s visit to The Denver Academy had excited him more than anything had in a long time.

*     *     *

Traffic moved steadily as Pamela drove through the Eisenhower Tunnel toward Breckenridge. Gunnar’s text last night asking her to join him for a last-minute meeting today at the Forseti Group offices had surprised her. He’d been good about keeping her updated on the progress for Fakhira’s transfer to the States via e-mails. Why else would he need to see her in person?

She had a lot of respect for this military man turned humanitarian, though, and couldn’t turn him down. Without his help, Fakhira’s prospects for obtaining the reconstructive surgeries she needed would be next to impossible. Perhaps he wanted to ask her to be on the jet that flew her young patient and her mother to the children’s hospital. She’d give anything to be there to ease the concerns of the girl’s family, although her general practioner gave her orders to rest and not risk a relapse.

Sitting still wasn’t in her DNA, though. Neither was idly waiting around for the organization she worked for to send her back to complete her contract abroad. She needed to keep busy.

But poor Fakhira must be terrified of what awaited her in the States. Pamela could at least be at the hospital to greet her. So much tragedy in such a young life. Just when opportunities had opened up for her, she’d been brutally attacked.

Heidi and the teachers had kept their English-immersion institute open despite the danger from extremists, in large part because of the protection of guards from the Forseti Group. The attack on Fakhira had been the first one on a student there, albeit occurring outside the school compound, and had left everyone shaken to the core.

Education was the best way for these girls to break away from the rigid standards some might impose upon them. Learning the ways of the world could also bring about changes in the lives of other Muslim women in the region. Malala Yousafzai had been a great inspiration to young and old after fighting back following being shot by the Taliban on her way home from school. One day, these girls might become great leaders in their local communities, if not the world. With their help, Afghanistan could become a more egalitarian country where women had more freedom and opportunity.

From what she’d seen, Gunnar’s team was fully committed to its mission, and Heidi said they had shielded the building and its inhabitants from retribution from the Taliban, Islamic State, and Al Qaeda factions over the past five years. Not an easy feat with the recent pullout of coalition forces.

Oh, she had no delusions that he wasn’t involved in paramilitary operations as well, but perhaps his humanitarian efforts assuaged his guilt. No, she was projecting her pacifist soul onto his. No doubt his missions were honorable and attempted to right wrongs.

When she’d tried to look up Forseti Group on the web, she’d discovered the word Forseti also was the name of the Norse god of justice and reconciliation. Clearly, the name of his contracting firm had been chosen to describe its mission and not merely the Nordic heritage of the owner.

The miles ticked by–long stretches of time where she zoned out on the road. In Afghanistan, she’d traveled in caravans with drivers ever watchful of IEDs and other hazards along the route. Americans had no concept of how easy it was to travel from place to place without the fear of dying along the way, except for the occasional motor-vehicle accident.

As she drove on, Pamela replayed last night’s encounter at the academy. Heat flooded her cheeks. Would Kristoffer Larson be present today? She hoped not. The man affected her in ways she didn’t want to acknowledge.

Pamela pulled into the entrance to Forseti headquarters and waited for the guard to inspect her Renegade Trailhawk thoroughly, much like on her first visit. When the gate swung open, she drove inside and up the winding drive to the secluded building. Even though she couldn’t see them, sentries must be posted around the perimeter of the property. It felt as if she’d entered a military base.

Of course, with the threat of terrorism more likely every day, his operation would attract a number of powerful enemies. One couldn’t be too careful, not even in the States.

She parked in one of the dozen or so spots at the semicircular parking area at the top of the driveway. The imposing concrete and glass building, surrounded on three sides by towering evergreens, dominated the landscape, blocking some of the panoramic view of the still snow-covered ski slopes and majestic Rockies. While the solid walls on the first floor didn’t allow for much of a view, she’d discovered on her prior visit that the upstairs vantage points were spectacular. Denver’s foothills had nothing on the vistas here in Breckenridge. She’d missed the greenery while serving in Afghanistan where everything was so brown and drab.

Grabbing her briefcase, she walked to the front door and entered the lobby. The receptionist showed her to the winding staircase and guided her to the boardroom on the second floor where she’d met a couple of weeks ago with Gunnar and several members of his team, including a man from Albuquerque by the name of Patrick Gallagher, and Mistress Grant, a well-respected Domme she’d met at the Masters at Arms Club.

The receptionist asked how she liked her coffee then went off to prepare her a cup. Inside the windowless room, only Gunnar sat at the table. He stood when he saw her and stretched out his hand in greeting. “Good morning, Pamela.” They shook hands as she returned the pleasantry, and he pointed to a padded executive chair on his left side. “Have a seat.”

Pamela smiled. Gunnar’s military background was unmistakable. Today, he wore a camo T-shirt emblazoned with one word—Army. His muscular arms stretched the sleeves to within an inch of ripping the fabric. As he had the last time, he had pulled his long hair into a simple ponytail. Standing well over six feet to her piddling five-foot one frame, one would expect him to be intimidating, but he put her at ease this morning just as he’d done the first time they’d met.

“How have things been going at the academy, Pamela?”

“Really well, thanks.” Had he asked her here to talk about that then?

Gunnar’s hair was much longer than his cousin Kristoffer’s. Both men had sun-streaked blond hair framing faces with icy blue eyes and chiseled chins. Gunnar’s nose was more hawk-like than she remembered Kristoffer’s being, and the CEO sported a well-groomed beard and mustache. The vision of the two of them standing proudly at the helm of a Viking ship flitted across her mind’s eye, and she grinned at her flight of fancy.

Focus
.

“What would you say if I told you I’m considering buying the academy?”

Ah, so that explained Kristoffer’s presence last night. As his chief financial officer, he’d want to scope out the place, no doubt. Were the others in the group also potential investors? Once again, she had a bout of nerves over who they were and whether anyone other than Kristoffer had recognized her.

“It would be a good investment, especially if most of the current instructors and trainers remain on board.”

Gunnar nodded. “Kris assured me in a preliminary report this morning that most do intend to stay.” He paused a moment. “You’re probably wondering why I’ve asked you back.”

Apparently, this meeting was about to get down to business. At least the younger Larson was missing.
Thank God
.

She smiled. “I assumed you’d tell me when you were ready and am certain you wouldn’t waste my time by calling me back here without good reason.”

He grinned. “I’d like to ask you to help me with a short-term project.” He glanced past her shoulder to the door. “Ah, here you are. We were just getting started.”

She turned to find Kristoffer standing there in yet another three-piece suit, this one dark blue. She met his gaze, and last night crashed in on her like a rogue wave. To his credit, he didn’t undress her with his eyes, but why would he bother? He’d already seen her in the buff.

Pamela smiled at him, offering her hand for him to shake. Uptight to the extreme compared to his laid-back and casual cousin, he almost seemed reluctant to touch her, but no way would she pull away. At last, he accepted her hand. Firm grip, but not bone crushing the way some men tried to overpower women.

Well, why on earth would he want to intimidate me anyway?

Yet nothing had been more intimidating than having him see her naked last night in the classroom, though that was through no fault of his.

Feeling vulnerable for some reason, she retrieved the laptop from her case, took her seat, and busied herself with opening a Word document for her notes. Kristoffer took the seat directly across the table from her and pulled a white legal pad from his briefcase and a pen from his shirt pocket. She tried not to stare at how his shirt hugged his chest, but couldn’t miss the gold wedding band on his finger.

For the first time since last night, she relaxed.
Off limits. Good
.

Still unable to make eye contact again, though, she turned her gaze toward Gunnar. “You mentioned something about a short-term project.” The sooner it began, the sooner it could end.

Without preamble, Gunnar brought the meeting to order, his attention first on Kristoffer. “I was just about to tell Pamela why I’ve asked her to be here, but now I can enlighten you both.”

So she wasn’t the only one out of the loop here. She waited, studiously avoiding looking at Kristoffer.

Gunnar’s focus was on her now. “I’d like to commit a substantial amount of money to a project and need the two of you to spearhead it.”

Pamela’s heart raced at the prospect of seeing Kristoffer on a regular basis. Yes, he was off limits, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have some strange hold over her.

How to extricate herself from this without appearing rude? “I’m flattered but not sure how much time I’d be able to devote to anything right now. I intend to return to Afghanistan by mid-summer to finish my last three-month assignment.”

“That won’t interfere with what I have in mind. In fact, it’s perfect timing.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the table. “This will be short-term in nature, because I know you’re a busy woman. Six to eight weeks should be plenty of time.”

She hazarded a glance across the table and noticed her counterpart seemed about as enthusiastic as she, although he expressed no reservations aloud. Instead, he asked Gunnar, “What did you have in mind?”

“After hearing Pamela talk about young Fakhira’s needs and prognosis, I had some preliminary conversations with the administrators at the hospital where you worked, Pamela, and would like to explore providing for their most pressing needs. As a physician who has been there and seen the hardships firsthand, you can help me determine the institution’s greatest priorities as far as medical equipment and whatever else can help doctors provide better treatment for children like Fakhira and other noncombatants.”

Pamela sat up straighter in her chair and stared him down. “I am grateful for the opportunity to point out some of the areas where your generosity will be appreciated, but can’t accept your offer if there are any strings attached. Yes, we treat children and noncombatants, but no one is asked at the door which side they’re on, so there’s every possibility we would be treating those fighting against you. You must understand that the staff at the hospital has taken an oath to provide medical care in the areas we serve to
all
in distress. Therefore, we must remain neutral, impartial, and ethical. Will that be an issue for you?”

A muscle clenched in Gunnar’s jaw before he nodded. “Point taken. I appreciate your honesty and expect you to continue to speak your mind on this subject. I’ll admit that I’m not surprised you would say that, but you can’t blame me for trying to increase the odds of my team surviving operations in the area.”

Of course, she couldn’t fault him for not wanting to help the hospital to treat and heal the very people who might cause the death of him or someone on his team.

Perhaps she could appease him somewhat. “What if we focus on the equipment and supply needs in the pediatric, obstetrics, and gynecological wards?”

He grinned. “Anything to lessen the chances of your staff inadvertently healing someone who can later go out and blow up students or teachers at Heidi’s school or attack the members of my team would be greatly appreciated.”

“Lessen is the best I can offer, but there are no guarantees and no way to quantify how successful our efforts are. Naturally, we also can’t prevent the patients we treat from growing up and joining enemy forces.”

He sobered. “Believe me, I know women and children can hide explosives and weapons just as easily, probably even better with women and girls wearing
chadris
or burqas. Those layers of clothing can conceal an arsenal.” He paused a moment. “But, in addition to easing some of the suffering, this is about winning over hearts and minds. Perhaps if someone at the facility is saved due to the staff or equipment provided by American and other coalition forces, we’ll be able to stem the rising hatred of Americans there.”

“You can’t imagine the relief in the faces of parents when their children are saved with modern surgeries and medicines,” Pamela continued. “Hopefully, they will tell them the story of how the doctors came and treated them without question of political loyalties.”

He nodded. “Let’s hope so.” He turned to his cousin. “Kris, you need to track down whatever she says is needed and make sure we can get it at competitive prices from the sources. Whatever you have to do to stretch the budget, I want as much bang for my buck as possible.”

“Not a problem,” Kristoffer responded.

“Good.” They spent the next two hours discussing the parameters of the project, both financial and logistical.

Gunnar began to wrap up their meeting. “I see no reason for you to meet on this here, since you both live in the Denver area. But for the next few weeks, perhaps you could drive out here once a week and update me with your progress.” He sat back in his chair. “I’m going to leave it to you two to explore every possibility.”

BOOK: ROAR
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