War Hawk: A Tucker Wayne Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

finally cut off the engine and stepped out of the vehicle. She stood up as she recognized him in turn.
    “Jane?” he murmured.
    She rushed to him and wrapped him in a hug, clinging to him for a long thirty seconds before pulling back. She searched his face, her eyes moist. Under the glare of the Cherokee’s headlamps, he noted a dark bruise under one cheekbone, poorly obscured by a smear of cosmetic concealer.
    Even less hidden was the panic and raw fear in her face.
    She kept one hand firmly on his arm, her fingers tight with desperation. “Tucker, I need your help.”
    Before he could speak, she glanced to the boy.
    “Someone’s trying to kill us.”

2
    October 10, 8:22 P . M . MDT
    Bitterroot Mountains, Montana
    Tucker studied Jane’s every movement as he held his motel door open. She passed by him, her back stiff, her fingers tightening on the boy’s shoulder. Her gaze swept every corner of the room before stepping fully inside. Only after finding the place empty did she seem to relax, sagging, letting her exhaustion show. She guided her son inside and sat down on one of the twin beds with a small sigh.
    The child—a blond-haired boy of three or four—climbed atop the bed and leaned against her side. Jane stroked his hair. His eyelids immediately began to droop.
    Tucker took the opposite bed, sitting down, his knees almost touching Jane’s. She shifted slightly farther away, a reflexive wary movement.
    Perhaps catching herself, she placed a hand on her knee. “It’s been a long drive,” she offered.
    Tucker knew it wasn’t the drive that had shaken up the hard, competent woman he knew from six years ago. He gave her the leeway to open up with her story on her own and didn’t press her.
    Kane approached. He came with his nose held low, his tail wagging slowly, perhaps also sensing her tension.
    A small smile creased Jane’s lips. She patted the bed next to her. “Hey, handsome,” she said softly. “I missed you.”
    At her words, Kane’s tail swept more widely, plainly also recognizing Jane. The shepherd hopped smoothly onto the bed, gently enough so as not to disturb the drowsing boy on Jane’s other side. He lay down next to her and rested his snout on her thigh, his nose sniffing at the boy’s tousled hair.
    She rubbed one of Kane’s ears, earning a contented umph from the shepherd.
    Lucky dog .
    Tucker watched as Jane turned and settled her son onto the bed, drawing a blanket over him. She was still strikingly beautiful. Her features were small, her eyes as blue as the deepest marine trench. He noted that she continued to keep herself wiry and athletic. In the army, she’d run marathons and practiced Kendo, excelling at both, earning her the nickname Zorro. Additionally, her tough physical conditioning had sculpted her silhouette into the most inviting curves.
    With her son settled, Jane’s gaze turned to him, sizing him up as well. He was a year older than her, his shaggy straw-colored hair several shades darker, his build just as athletic, but bulkier with muscle. He could tell she was searching through his many scars for the younger version of himself, the kid who would sweep her up in his arms and swing her around whenever they met, the one who could laugh easily, who didn’t wake at night in sweat-soaked sheets.
    They stared across the gulf of years between them.
    Perhaps finding the depth of that gulf too much to face, she turned her attention back to Kane, to easier footing.
    “Kane’s gotten bigger, Tuck. How is that possible?”
    Tucker let a small grin show. Jane was the only person in the world who called him Tuck.
    “He pumps iron.”
    “Shush. He’s as beautiful as ever.” Her eyes found him again. “I heard about Abel.”
    Tucker felt a stab in his heart at the mention of Kane’s littermate. His gaze flashed to the fall of knives, his nostrils suddenly filled with the smell of smoke, while his ears echoed with screams of his wounded teammates. His sight dimmed to a