Unconditional Surrender (5 page)

When he pulled his shaft from her body, he collapsed to his side, taking her with him. His hands were gentle now, soothing her still shivering body, caressing the still stinging flesh of her ass and thighs. When their breathing had evened out, he moved away from her then returned and applied a soothing lotion to her tortured skin. Good. That would help her the next day when she sat down. By Monday when she returned to work all that would be left were the faint marks of the crop.

Kari dressed slowly, waiting for him to confirm that another night was definitely on the schedule, mentally holding her breath that he hadn’t changed his mind. There was something connecting between them, whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, and she hoped he meant what he’d said about there being other nights.

“My schedule is very erratic,” he said at last. “If I leave a message with Bruno, will he get it to you? Is that acceptable?”

“Yes. Of course.”
Yes, indeed!

“If the timing isn’t good for you, you could suggest some other dates. We’ll work it out so we definitely connect.”

“Good.” She smiled at him. “I’m glad I pleased you, Sir.”

His smile curled her toes. “I think pleased is too mild a word. You are an excellent sub. But then, I think I knew that from the start.” He reached out a hand and stroked her cheeks lightly. “Till next time.”

She nodded, trying to quiet the excited racing of her heart. “Next time.”

Chapter Four

I have to see her again. Why the fuck didn’t I get her name?

But Slade knew the answer. At The Edge people only gave their names if they chose, and then usually only their first names. Until a pattern had been established and the two parties wanted to take the relationship further, anonymity was key. If two people wanted to take it further they did so very slowly.

Slade knew from that first night that was the direction he wanted to go in. After only three evenings together he knew this could very well be the woman he was searching for, a place to soothe his warrior’s soul when the war began to eat him alive. But he’d thought he’d have the full two weeks to get to that point. He hadn’t counted on either of their lives interfering with that timetable.

Just as he’d told her, he’d left a message with Bruno setting up a second night. She’d agreed to that as well as a third one, still using Bruno as the go-between. But that last night together she’d told him she’d be tied up with something for at least three weeks and she’d leave a message for him when she was free.

He thought about her last message to him…when he wasn’t obsessing about the delicious taste of her cunt or the incredible tight feel of it around his cock. So exactly what did ‘tied up’ mean, anyway? Was she involved with someone? Maybe someone who wasn’t into the life but allowed her to play on her own, with restrictions? No, he refused to believe that. She couldn’t have been so into what they did together if that were the case.

In any event, he had no idea when he’d get back to the ranch and the city and be able to get together with her. They’d got word their leave was being cut short because they were needed for a special mission. None of the guys were exactly happy about that. The Edge had been good to them and for them. Each had hooked up with someone they were interested in seeing more of. Now they weren’t sure when they’d even get back. He was glad they’d each connected with someone but it was sure a hell of a way to try to build a relationship.

The last message he gave Bruno for her explained he’d been called away on a business trip and would be travelling for several weeks. Not so far from the truth. He just didn’t say that his ‘trip’ was to Afghanistan and probably into the Hindu Kush mountain range. He hoped she wouldn’t think he was just blowing her off. Or that he was pissed off because she’d told him she’d be busy and couldn’t see him for a while, because that was definitely far from the truth.

She certainly had his brain all screwed up, something he hadn’t planned for. And he needed to have a clear head to concentrate on whatever the next mission was.

Now the four of them were hanging out in Slade’s quarters at Bagram Airfield, the location they’d been ferried to after their leave. They had no idea what their next mission was, only that the lieutenant they reported to would have their information in the morning and they’d begin their planning after that. Once the orders came down from the top—and that usually meant all the way back through to Army Special Operations Command at Fort Bragg, North Carolina to Central Command, or CENTCOM, at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, Florida—each team planned its own mission and the details were closely guarded. One tiny leak, one little slip-up, and lives could be lost.

As the team leader it was up to him to make sure everyone’s head was in the game…starting with his. But their abrupt departure from San Antonio hadn’t left them much time to switch gears mentally. Slade hoped tonight would take care of that. A few beers, replaying some memories, and he expected them to be good to go.

“I’m telling you,” Beau was saying, “that woman about knocked my socks off. Did you see those legs? They just about went on forever.” He grinned. “She’s a feisty one but the minute the door to that room closed she was on her knees and happy to be there.”

“Mine was a little different,” Marc put in.

Beau cocked an eyebrow? “In what way? I’m assuming she had all the right parts in the right places.”

Marc balled up a sheet of paper he’d been glancing at and threw it at his friend. “Of course she did, numb nuts. I meant she seemed almost skittish, as if she wasn’t sure she should be there.”

“You could have politely walked away and found someone else,” Slade reminded him.

Marc shrugged. “Yeah, I could have. But there was something about her…”

“Uh-oh,” Trey teased. “Words to be careful of.”

“Will you back off?” Marc raked his fingers through his hair. “I asked Bruno about her on my way out that first night. Seems she’s been out of the scene for a while. Bruno said she has a habit of making bad choices where her Doms are concerned.”

“Ouch.” This from Beau. “She may have more problems than you want to deal with. After all, who knows when we’ll get back to San Antonio and The Edge.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” March stretched. “I should have just played it light and enjoyed the pleasure. I know that. But I’m telling you, there’s something special about her.”

“What about you, Trey?” Slade looked at his friend. “Did you meet someone who struck a nerve?”

Trey nodded reluctantly. “I did. And I think we might have even exchanged names if I’d been around longer. We were just starting to find a rhythm. You know?”

“And you, fearless leader?” Marc asked the question but they all stared questioningly at Slade.

He shrugged. “Yeah. I met someone…interesting.” And wasn’t that putting it mildly. “But like the rest of you, we didn’t even get to the point of feeling safe exchanging names. I plan to fix that the next time I’m home. Whenever that is. And, by the way, y’all are invited to hang out at the ranch again when we get our next long break. I’ll get passes to The Edge like I did last time.”

He’d been sitting with his feet on the metal desk, legs stretched out, leaning back in the creaky chair. Now he dropped his feet to the floor and sat up straight.

“We’ve only got tonight left before it’s all hands on deck,” he reminded them. “Let’s get some decent food and some beer, and a good night’s sleep. We need to be sharp in the morning. Meeting’s at oh-nine-hundred.”

But even as he ate and drank and joked with his men and tried to figure out what this mission would be, part of his brain was still on the very sexy auburn-haired female who had struck a chord so deep inside him. Maybe he could get a message to her through Bruno before they were on mission lockdown.

Why the fuck didn’t I at least get her name?

* * * *  

The Hindu Kush was an unforgiving mountain system nearly a thousand miles long and two hundred miles wide, running northeast to southwest, mainly through Afghanistan, and dividing the Amu Darya River Valley and the Indus River Valley. It stretched from the Pamir Plateau, near Gilgit, to Iran and had over two dozen summits of more than twenty-three thousand feet in height. Below the snowy peaks, the mountains of Hindu Kush appeared bare, stony and poor in vegetation.

The area had become an arena for fighting the war against terror, a war where the tribes went after each other as well as their common enemy—the infidels. The mountains had been their home for thousands of years and they knew every nook and crevice like the backs of their hands. The rugged terrain provided multiple places for terrorist leaders to hide, even with entire teams of supporters. From these secret places they launched attacks against United States and coalition forces working to clear out the vipers’ nests of terrorist activities and restore some kind of order in Afghanistan.

Several missions, not just theirs, had already been successful in taking down terrorist leaders. Some had not been so successful. But no matter how many times he or the other teams did this, the fuckers kept springing up like weeds in a rainstorm. Slade Donovan was determined that his team’s mission would fall into the former category. Their assignment was to take out an asswipe named Ashad Mansoor. His first name translated as ‘hero’ and Slade was sure the man saw himself as some kind of hero to his bloodthirsty people. But this particular group had been identified as smuggling arms from Pakistan to Al-Qaeda followers in Afghanistan and killing nearly all the men sent out to annihilate him.

Mansoor and his band of merry men were responsible for shooting down a number of both Apache and Black Hawk helicopters the Air Force had used to overfly the area, killing most of the men on board each time. Slade’s commanding officer had got word from CENTCOM that they had something very big planned for within the next ten days. Slade and his team had been given the assignment to take the bastard out and he was determined they would keep their string of successes intact.

They had confirmed information that Mansoor, along with eleven of his closest advisors, was hiding out in a cave that they were using as their headquarters. Chatter had it they were planning something big. Slade’s orders were to take him down before that could happen. They were long past trying to take him alive and extract information. Too dangerous. Too risky. Now eradication was first and foremost the goal—the safety of whomever they were targeting was no longer an issue.

They’d spent the day before planning the mission down to the last detail and memorising maps of the area. Slade looked at his men, grim-faced in their seats in the Little Bird helicopter, exposed skin covered with blackout, all wearing black clothing with black watch caps pulled low over their ears. Each man carried a pack with emergency supplies as well as his specially selected firearms.

For Beau, it was the highly efficient Heckler & Koch SG1, a lightweight, highly efficient semi-automatic sniper rifle with high accuracy and a large magazine capacity. Its silent bolt-closing device made it ideal when absolute silence was required, as it was with nearly all of their missions. For Slade, it was the new H&K carbine, while Trey and Marc both carried the precision-made Browning M82A1 fifty calibre. Trey’s was more backup than anything since his primary assignment was as spotter for Beau.

Additionally, they each carried either a Glock nine millimetre or a Colt 1911 handgun with a large supply of ammunition. With their other supplies it made for a heavy pack to shoulder, but their training had conditioned them so the weight was inconsequential. 

“Slade?” The pilot’s voice sounded in the headphone Slade was wearing.

“Yeah?”

“Coming up on the landing zone in five.”

“Got it.”

He signalled to his men to get ready. They had exactly two minutes to exit the helo after touchdown to allow the bird to get away safely. You never knew when eyes might be watching you. And that was all it took for the four of them to jump down to the hard ground and move away from the rotor wash. Seconds after that, the bird lifted away and they hoofed it to the nearest cover they could find, which in this case was a large outcropping of rock.

Once the helo was away, Slade took stock of everyone, checking to make sure there were no minor injuries incurred during the landing. Then he rose carefully to his feet, readjusting his pack.

“Okay.” His voice was barely a whisper. Sound carried in the mountains and they had to make sure they weren’t detected. He pulled out the map they’d all studied until their eyes blurred and went over everything with them one more time.

“Remember,” he said to his team, “this is definitely a ‘kill’ mission. This guy has been responsible for too many deaths, both our own soldiers and the Afghanis who are friendly to us. That’s our first choice. Beau? It’s up to you and Trey, but you know we’re your backup.”

Beau snorted almost soundlessly into his tiny mic. “Good to remember that but, just like always, when he sticks his head out, we’ll be ready to blast it clean off.”

Slade shot a glance at Marc. “And the recon is up to you, as usual. So. Here’s where we’re going.” He pulled out another map from one of his pockets, this one hand drawn, and pointed to a spot marked with an X and circled in red. “Lead on. We’ve got your back.”

Progress was very slow going. The moon dipped in and out of shredded clouds, shining like a flashlight when it was fully exposed and forcing the men to stop and find cover behind giant boulders or the scrubby pines that were indigenous to these mountains. They moved slowly, with Marc in front scouting the area, watching for an ambush or a stray shepherd. When Slade checked his watch again, he discovered it had taken them two hours to move two miles.

Okay by him. They had to be soundless and invisible. One dislodged pebble in the stillness of the night, one crunch of rock beneath someone’s foot and they’d be toast.

Eventually they reached the cave that Mansoor was currently using for his base of operations. The men were always amazed at the rough surroundings these people chose to establish as their headquarters. For all the money they took in from the poppy trade and other sources, he would have thought they’d want something more elaborate. Slade knew there were some places, especially in Helmand Province, where tribal warlords lived like kings. But apparently the terrorists in this war-torn country considered it a badge of honour to disdain any luxuries.