Hearths of Fire (8 page)

Glancing at the clock, Catori debated on whether she should shower and start her day early. Four o’clock in the morning was a little excessive, but there were people who would be awake by now who would be able to assist her in checking off some of the items on her to-do list. She ignored the exhaustion that was settling in her bones. She knew that she was replacing one bad habit with another, but she didn’t care. Work was becoming her salvation and once things were in full swing, she would settle into a normal routine. She would.

‡

T
hree days later,
Catori found herself in the state of Washington. Her original destination had been to drive to Wyoming and visit Aaron “Stick” Scott at his home, but he didn’t make it easy on her. Wasting this much time didn’t make her happy and she damn well hoped that this man was worth every minute she’d lost. She pulled alongside a couple of trucks before shutting off her engine and exiting her convertible.

The temperature wasn’t as warm here as it was in the Midwest, so she was thankful that she’d brought more than a couple of blazers on this trip. This red one was a little longer than the others and while it had a cloth type belt the edge of her jacket fit over her weapon a little easier. It wasn’t even sunrise yet, but from what she’d gathered, if she didn’t catch Stick this morning she wouldn’t have a chance to speak with him for the next six months.

The diner’s lights lit up the wharf as bells from the ships tinkered and their engines hummed. Catori walked toward the lively eatery, scouting for Aaron Scott through the windows. She caught sight of him at the counter, finishing up what he thought was going to be his last meal on land for the next twenty-four weeks. He didn’t realize it yet, but his luck was about to change.

“Excuse me,” a man mumbled after he’d opened the door and signaled his exit with the chime above their heads.

Catori used it to her advantage and smiled her appreciation for his politeness in holding the door open for her. She closed the distance to the counter and took the empty seat next to Stick. He didn’t look up from his coffee cup, which appeared to have only one more drink left. Sure enough, he swallowed the contents and then reached behind for his wallet.

“We can technically call this a business meeting,” Catori said, placing her hand on the written ticket laying by his plate and sliding it her way. Finally she’d garnered his attention. Unlike Doc’s darker blond hair, Stick’s was lighter and he still maintained his military cut. He’d let it grow out slightly on top, making her immediately think of the surfer model photographers used for ads at the beach. His blue eyes met hers and it was obvious he wasn’t anywhere near the free spirit of a surfer. “Mind if we take this conversation somewhere private?”

“I don’t think so,” Stick replied, resuming taking out his wallet and pulling out some cash. He threw three five-dollar bills onto the counter and then stood, returning his billfold back from where he got it. He did have the courtesy to nod his appreciation for her gesture before turning to go. “Have a nice day, ma’am.”

“I find it interesting that a man with your many talents would waste them out on an oil rig in the middle of the ocean. I’d think it would get boring after a while. Same smells, same view.” Catori saw a booth opening up toward the back and stood with every intention of claiming it. She took a couple steps, making no effort to ensure that he would follow. “As for being incommunicado for that length of time, that’s got to be hard on you and your family, Stick.”

Catori didn’t look back as she made her way to the booth, taking the seat facing the door. It was comical to watch the men’s faces as they realized she’d done it on purpose. She knew better than to have her back toward an open room without being able to see what was coming. Stick was still standing by his stool, contemplating his options. She’d piqued his interest enough that he finally conceded and joined her at the table.

“Who are you?”

“Catori Starr, Red Starr HRT.” She held her arm over the table and shook his hand, noticing that his grip was firm. He didn’t lessen the tension just because she was a woman. She liked that. “I’ve got to tell you, I didn’t expect to be chasing your ass over two states, so you better be as good as Crest tells me.”

“Crest?” Stick relaxed slightly at the name. Now she definitely had his full attention. “How is that old son of a bitch? I haven’t seen him in quite a few years.”

“I know,” Catori replied, signaling with two fingers to the waitress that she’d like two cups of coffee. “He’s his usual cryptic self. Makes a person want to knock his block off, but he’d probably put me on my ass. I’m good, but not so sure I’m
that
good. Of course, the element of surprise might be in my favor.”

“Hostage Rescue Team?” Stick had been paying attention. Another plus. “Why would you be interested in me?”

“Why did you leave the Corps?” Catori pulled back, allowing the waitress to set a mug in front of both of them. Conveying the two of them were good for a while, the waitress left them alone. “You only had eight years left until retirement.”

“If you spoke with Crest, you know that I was a foot stomper. EOD—explosives ordinance disposal.” Stick looked out the window, where the sun didn’t show a hint of rising. It reminded Catori of all those early mornings in the Corps. “I’d had enough.”

“Just like that?” Catori sipped her coffee, a few degrees hotter than the normal pot of coffee. She was surprised it wasn’t bubbling. “You up and quit?”

“Quit?” Stick’s blue eyes darkened at her implication and he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “I served my country for twelve years disposing of landmines, cluster bomb sub munitions, unexploded ordinances of every kind and make you can imagine—from improvised explosive devices in Iraq to our own AT4 rounds that skittered across the ground and laid there until someone walked by. All it took was for someone’s shadow to make the temperature vary on those fuckers and have them explode. I didn’t quit, Ms. Starr. I was smart enough to know my name was written on one of those and I knew it was only a matter of time until I met my maker.”

“You think you have a few more to defuse before you find your name? I know it’s a gamble, but look on the bright side. If you take me up on what I’m about to offer, you’ll be using those weapons for their intended purpose instead of disarming them. It’ll be a change of scenery and one you might like.” Catori could finally take a well-deserved drink of caffeine since the coffee had cooled by less than a quarter of a degree. “By the way, it’s just Starr.”

“Fine.” Stick threw his hands up and then sat back, giving Catori his full attention. “Tell me this offer of yours.”

“I’m gathering up a team to reassemble Red Starr HRT from the ground up. It was and will remain a first class operation. I want you on my squad.” Catori continued to talk, going into more specifics and knowing that what she was offering was too good for him to pass by. “You would make enough over the next five years to see to it that your sister receives the treatment she needs. I can only imagine how hard it is for your family to give twenty-four hour care. So I see it two ways. One, you can go back to working the oil rigs and be away for six months at a time. They pay well. Or two, you can come work for me and make five times what you do here, have the ability to come home between missions, and know that I’d pull your ass out ASAP if something happened to either your sister or parents.”

Catori waited for her proposition to sink in, enjoying the rich flavor of the coffee. Damn if it wasn’t one of the best she’d had in months. She’d have to get some to go, knowing she could make it to California by nightfall. She needed to make a stop in the northern part of the state to finish up her business before heading down to San Diego by tomorrow.

“So what’s it going to be, Stick?” Catori would normally have given her forty-eight hour window, but if she caught up with Kane Taylor either tonight or tomorrow she wanted to be able to give him a file of the team he would be leading for the next five years. Her contracts were iron clad, so unless one of them ended up dead—which was certainly a possibility—they would all be working for Red Starr HRT for their foreseeable future. “Red wire or green wire?”

“Fuck.” Stick ran both hands over his face as if this were a hard decision. Catori wasn’t seeing it, but if he’d like to make a production out of it that was his choice. She wouldn’t claim to understand what it was like to have a sister who’d been paralyzed from the neck down in a car accident. What she could do was offer him enough money that his family wouldn’t feel the effects of having to care for someone twenty-four seven. She finished off her coffee and then signaled once again to the waitress, although this time she indicated a to-go cup. “It’s a good offer, Starr.”

“Any reason you’re hesitating?”

“Other than it places me back in the same situation as I was before? It wasn’t necessarily a bomb that had my name written on it. A bullet would do the job.”

“It could,” Catori agreed, not able to make Stick the guarantees he obviously wanted. It wasn’t like he thought he would get them, but she could understand his uncertainty. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t get the answer she wanted. “Or you could drown out in the middle of the fucking ocean on some shit box oilrig.”

Stick laughed, the weight of the world easing from his shoulders slightly. He took responsibility to heart and his family meant the world to him. She knew from his dossier that he felt the same about his unit and even to this day still kept in contact with some of them. He would be an asset to her team in many, many ways. When he smiled and leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head, she knew she’d won another round.

“Green. Count me in.”

‡

“K
ane Taylor.”

Catori grimaced when the machines kept roaring, drowning out her voice and everything else with it. The construction crew must have already had their morning break seeing as they were all actually working and doing their jobs. This must be one hell of a ramrod for a foreman. Orange vests and hard hats were the only thing visible as the crew went about rebuilding a bridge. She didn’t want to know what they were doing, not caring in the slightest. As long as what was already up didn’t fall into the damn water she’d consider the morning a success. It wasn’t that she wasn’t prone to dangerous situations, but purposefully walking a metal plank to her death wasn’t going to be one of them.

“Taylor’s over in the trailer. Now get the hell off my site.”

At least that’s what Catori thought the hard-edged foreman said. She breathed a sigh of relief as she walked back the distance to where the trailer was situated off the side of the road, far away from the bridge and nestled into a patch of grass. The cloud coverage kept the heat at bay, and if anything the air had a slight chill to it. She’d just reached for the handle of the door when it sprang open, revealing the man she was looking for.

“Who are you?” Kane barked, not bothering to pause in his stride as he pushed past.

“Catori Starr.” She looked Taylor over as he stepped down from the trailer and turned. According to his basic information his formidable form was six foot three and two hundred thirty pounds of solid muscle. His dark brown hair was still cut with the same military style as the day he’d retired a rank below her as a Gunnery Sergeant. He was older than the others on her team, although not more senior than she was, and he’d also seen more action and knew how to lead a squad into Indian country. He was a born leader of warriors and she was about to give that opportunity back to him. “Mind if we step back into the trailer where we can have a conversation without losing our voices?”

“Talk all you want, but I’m not buying what you’re selling.” Kane didn’t bother stopping to see if she’d catch up with him. Hell, with his attitude he probably thought she’d scurry off due to his rude manner. She could appreciate where he was coming from, but ground rules were about to be set into place. She would get final say when he was under her employment and that was about to become apparent. Kane pulled the cheap Motorola Talkabout from his belt and shouted into the transmitter. “Sully, did you get those blueprints like I asked? The rest of this bridge isn’t going to build itself and we can’t do shit without those plans.”