Talons of the Falcon Read Online Free PDF Page B

this early.”
    “Well, I’d like to get started with Colonel Bradley as soon as possible. But of course I felt I should check in with you first.” The last was a pointed reference to her reception—or lack of it—last night.
    He took a step back. “Then come in.”
    She followed him inside. The office was the first room in the old house that showed any extensive redecorating. Apparently the major had fixed his private domain to suit himself. The floor was carpeted in a muted tweed. One wall boasted a display of Civil War swords and pistols. On the other was a framed poster featuring a white chess piece against a black background. “Make security your first and last move,” it advised judiciously. It was a far cry from what she would have chosen.
    The wide oak desk looked as though it had been salvaged from the estate’s library. It was clean except for one crisp manila folder, a mug with the air force security service crest and an old-fashioned manual typewriter of the kind she hadn’t seen in years.
    But the man himself dominated the surroundings. Like his staff, he was in mufti, although instead of jeans he wore light gray slacks and a blue knit shirt. Even in the casual attire, he exuded an aura of command, as though he expected his orders to be executed without question. From where he stood now behind the desk, he seemed to tower over Eden, and his frankly male assessment was an instant reminder that she was the only woman on this isolated, high-security base.
    Eden met his confident gaze as they exchanged the stiff greetings of wary strangers. She suspected that Maj. Ross Downing’s blond Viking appearance would appeal to a certain kind of woman—although he wasn’t her type. From Gordon she knew that this man had been a security officer for the last fifteen years and had an unmatched reputation for toughness. Yet he also had a record of being fair. So why was he coming down so hard on Mark Bradley?
    “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to see you when you arrived,” he began, settling into a comfortable chair behind the oak desk. Somehow the apology lacked sincerity.
    Without being invited, Eden took a seat across from him.
    “Perhaps you won’t be as anxious to get to work when you see what you’re up against.”
    “Oh?”
    “Dr. Sommers, the guy we have down here has been so badly messed up that all you’ve got to work with is a human shell, as empty as a coconut that’s been sucked dry.”
    Aware that he was watching her reaction, Eden struggled to maintain her facade of professional composure. A few minutes ago, when she’d seen Mark, she’d been shaken by very similar thoughts. Now the chief of station’s confirmation of her feelings was like a hot knife slicing through her flesh. Downing was simply describing a man who had been brought to him for interrogation. Her fears were for someone she’d cared very deeply about.
    “Dr. Hubbard agrees with your diagnosis?” she asked quietly.
    “Hubbard’s just an M.D.,” Downing said, with a gesture of dismissal. “His comments on the patient’s mental state aren’t worth beans. But just for the record,” he added, “bringing a clinical psychologist in on this case wasn’t my idea, either.”
    Eden took in the set line of his jaw. Apparently he couldn’t tolerate losing control of the situation. Hubbard’s weak questioning of his decisions was simply an annoyance. She, a psychologist, had the potential to challenge his authority. Last night he must have been trying to deny her presence at Pine Island while asserting his domination over the base.
    “I have very little faith that your fancy methods are going to work with Colonel Bradley,” he continued.
    Apparently your methods haven’t worked either. Or I wouldn’t have been called in, she thought.
    “However, I always follow correct procedures,” he added. “That means I want a report from you on the patient’s present mental state as soon as possible.”
    “You’ll get my written