Forged in Fire Read Online Free PDF Page B

musical his sister Jilly insisted on playing over and over again—in this case the ‘T’ did not rhyme with ‘P’ and had nothing to do with pool.
    It had to do with Special Operators.
    He would have recognized the three even without the heads-up. He’d spent four years eating, shitting and sleeping with such a team. He damn well recognized the vibe.
    Just as he recognized a team rendezvous when he saw one—and not one of the romantic variety. Any minute the other two bastards would take off and the four of them would meet up someplace free of unwelcome eyes and ears. He could have sent someone after them, but why bother? Those SEALs were pros. They’d recognize a tail in an instant, and he’d lose the advantage of surprise.
    He turned from the couple disappearing down the corridor before his interest became noticeable. One never knew who might be watching.
    Sitting on a blue bench directly across from him was a child somewhere around the age of Jilly’s youngest, maybe four or five. She was a cute little thing, all big brown eyes and rich mocha skin. Her frizzy hair was the color of dark chocolate. Russ winked at her, grinning as those velvety eyes widened even more.
    But his smile quickly faded. The child was too frail. Pointy little elbows and knees.
    His attention shifted to the fat cow in the sweatsuit slumped beside the youngster. They shared the same shade of hair and eyes, but the resemblance ended there. The mother obviously consumed all the calories between the pair. Maybe if the bitch dragged her attention from the trashy novel she was reading, she’d remember that the child needed to eat.
    He turned back to the little tyke. She’d been staring at him with those huge, solemn eyes since he’d sat down. Children, in general, were amazingly perceptive, but even more so at her age. What exactly did she sense in him that brought such wariness to her eyes?
    Which reminded him….
    Russ dug into the pocket of his laptop case and retrieved his cell phone. As he waited for the call to ring through, he winked at the little girl again and raised his eyebrows, waggling them. The gesture had the opposite effect than he’d intended. The little one shrank back and reached for her mother’s hand.
    With a shrug, Russ turned his attention back to the phone.
    “How are our guests?” he asked the moment the call was picked up. “Did the packages arrive for the children? Good. Good. Are the toys keeping them occupied? Excellent.”
    Shifting on the bench, he glanced back down the corridor. One of the SEALs—the dark-haired one—had left his post and fallen in behind his lieutenant commander. According to intel, the black hair marked him as Marcus Simcosky. Seth Rawlings had the blond hair. He glanced toward C18’s ticket counter, but the wall opposite stood empty. Rawlings was in the wind now too.
    “It’s time to send a memo to our new employees. Remind them that following company policy is a requirement,” Russ said into the phone. Settling back, he crossed his ankles and slouched down until he could lean his head against the bench’s backrest. As casually as possible, he shot another glance down the terminal corridor. Simcosky’s brisk strides were quickly carrying him from sight.
    “How goes the company retreat? I imagine the kids are getting bored? Yes, well, I have just the thing to lift young spirits. The carnival’s in town. At the Puyallup fairgrounds. I’m sure the kids would love a morning of fun. Three of you accompany our young guests, while the rest entertain their mothers. Make sure you take plenty of video. I want our new associates to appreciate how much effort we’ve put into entertaining their families during their stay with us.”He ended the call by flipping the phone shut, but he kept it in hand. He needed to update the bosses. But what exactly to tell them?
    Winters, Simcosky and Rawlings were obviously in full combat mode. The question was why.
    What the hell where they picking up