Caught In The Crosshairs

“What about you?” she asked suddenly, seeming to want to turn the spotlight on him. “Is there anyone in your life?”

He cracked his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel tight. “My life is in Special Forces. Needless to say, I don’t get out much.”

“Maybe Gomez isn’t the only lone wolf.”

He forced a laugh. “I think we’re all lone wolves in Special Forces. We’ve all got something driving us forward, pushing us to win every battle.”

“What drives you?”

He glanced over at her. She looked expectantly at him, interested in his response. He began to feel uncomfortable and wished he’d chosen a different topic of conversation. He didn’t want her probing into his personal life, trying to figure out what makes him tick.

“De oppresso liber,” he said finally.

She looked quizzically at him.

“It’s the Special Forces motto,” he explained. “To liberate the oppressed. Freeing people from tyranny and despair is what drives me forward. It makes it all worthwhile.”

He’d already experienced enough tyranny in his own life to know how suffocating it was, how it took hold of your life and sucked it dry. He was determined not to let it happen in any walk of life, just as he’d been determined to stop it happening in his own family. A bully was a bully, whatever language he spoke, and he would never stand by and watch the needy and vulnerable be beaten and broken.

“It’s your own personal mission, huh?” she said, cutting a little too close to the bone for his liking.

He winced. “You could say that.”

He felt her watching him closely as she spoke. “You ever thought you might want to settle down someday?”

He widened his eyes in surprise at the boldness of the question. This was definitely stepping outside his comfort zone.

“Like I said,” he answered, keeping his eyes fixed on the road, “my life is in Special Forces.”

She could read into that what she liked. She’d probed deep enough.

“While we’re on the subject,” he said, shifting in his seat, “is there a white picket fence in your future?”

“I doubt it,” she said with a shrug. “I’m not the settling-down type. There aren’t many men who’d accept me as a wife.”

He raised his eyebrows. Was she kidding? He could think of a whole bunch of men who’d be glad to have her by their side. Not him, though. She and he were totally incompatible. That much was obvious.

“I’m sure there’s some guy for you out there, Hanson,” he said. “He’ll find you.”

“Yeah,” she said, looking out the window. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard her mutter under her breath, “If he looks hard enough.”

They drove in silence until he pulled into a small mall and parked in front of a store that read Darleen’s Fashions.

Dean stepped out of the truck and went to open her door for her. He stopped himself, deciding to wait for her to join him, instead. The more distance he kept from her, the less chance there was of him treading on her toes.

* * *

Dean punched in a number at a pay phone. He knew he had to be careful, as this would be a nonsecure line, and he didn’t want to advertise their presence to any unfriendly ears. Cara’s shopping trip had already made him jumpy. He didn’t like her being so visible in a public place, but, thankfully, she had known exactly what items she wanted and purchased them quickly. It came as no surprise to see that all her choices were functional and practical—exactly like her.

The receiver on the other end was snatched up on the first ring.

“Gantry here.”

“Carter, it’s Dean.”

“Dean! Where are you?”

“I’d rather not say right now.”

“We found your jeep. There was blood on a seat. Are you all safe?”

Dean was silent for a moment. “The blood is Hanson’s but she’s okay. Just scratches.”

“What about Gomez and Hicks?”

Dean swallowed hard. “Hicks is gone. He took the full force of the explosion.”

Colonel Gantry exhaled loudly. “We haven’t totally cleared the bomb site yet. The media are all over us, wanting the full story. I’m sorry, Dean. I never knew this would happen.”

Dean leaned against the pay-phone wall. “Make sure his family is looked after. Give them anything they need.”

“I promise we’ll do that, Dean. We really need to piece together what happened out there. You have to come back to base so you can debrief us. I can’t say much on the phone, you know that. We need to talk in person.”

“Carter, someone set us up. I don’t know who, or what, is safe anymore.”

“We know it was a setup. They were prepared, ready for you.” Gantry took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to have to break this news to you, Dean, but intelligence suggests that you are the UFA’s next target. You need round-the-clock protection.”

Dean felt himself reeling in shock. “You know this for sure?”

“Yes, we know for sure.”

He rested his forehead on the wall, letting the news sink in. He was the next target. He and Chris, once the best of friends had now turned bitter enemies, locked in a battle to the death.

He straightened up. “Can you guarantee that Fort Carson can provide total security?” He knew the answer to this question even as the words left his mouth. His base in Colorado Springs was well defended from outside attack, but the real danger was likely to be on the inside.

“You’ll be a lot safer at Fort Carson than taking your chances alone,” Gantry replied. “Wherever you are, you’re vulnerable to another sniper attack.”

Dean’s senses sprang to attention. “How do you know about the sniper? No one from Red Team has debriefed you yet.”

Silence.

“Goodbye, Carter.” Dean placed the receiver firmly back in its cradle. Turning back toward the truck, he saw Cara’s eyes trained on him as he stood on the sidewalk. He knew that her hand was resting on the Glock pistol, already loaded, on the seat beside her. This situation just got a whole lot messier than he ever anticipated. And Cara Hanson was caught in the crosshairs.