Logan didn’t need to hear the words to understand them…
“Love…y-you…t-too, bro…ther. Ev..ry…m-minute.”
“Every mission.” His face collapsed as the reality of the situation became too much to bear.
He held onto Hunter’s hand in his, refusing to let go. Tears fell freely from his eyes, and his nose filled with snot as he sat on his knees next to his dying friend, praying for a miracle he knew would never come.
Please don’t do this. Ah, Christ, you can’tdothis! You can’t take him away from us, damn you! You can’t!
A powerful wind interrupted the silent pleas as the chopper flew directly over the team on its way back around. Just as he had when the RPG’s had hit, Logan hovered protectively over Hunter’s upper body to keep the dust and dirt and anything else from flying into the man’s face.
Seconds later, the whip of the wind had lessened, and the shooting had all but ceased. Lifting himself up, he saw the sixty-five-foot Blackhawk landing on a stretch of level ground less than two hundred feet from him and his men.
With a hope he shouldn’t have allowed himself to feel, Logan started talking before his gaze had fully shifted from the giant metal bird back down to Hunter’s.
“It’s over, Hunt! The chopper’s right over there, and it’s ready to take you home! Hear that? You’re going—” Logan froze, his entire world tilting on its axis.
Hunter was looking up, staring straight into Logan’s gaze just as he’d been before. Only those faded blue eyes could no longer see.
Not Logan. The chopper. The four men who’d just gathered around them with concern for their fellow SEAL…
The same eyes that had once been filled life and love and joy couldn’t see anything anymore, because…
It’s too late. He’s already gone.
Less than fifteen minutes earlier, Hunter had been walking right next to him. Hunt had been talking, and smiling, and laughing…not realizing he was going to die minutes from being rescued.
A stretch of time later, and Logan and the others were silently carrying thirty-four-year-old Chief Petty Officer Hunter Eugene Garrison toward his final exfil. And as his boots moved woodenly across the dry, dusty ground, Logan made his best friend a final silent promise.
A vow he was willing to die to keep.
I’ll find out what happened here today, Hunt. I don’t care what it costs or how long it takes.
A terrorist’s bullet may have caused the man’s fatal wound, but Hunter’s death was caused by someone else. Someone who’d tipped off the men who’d done their damnedest to kill his entire team.
And come hell or high water, Logan wouldn’t rest until he uncovered the truth…and made them pay.
1
Two years later…
Natalie Garrison knockedon the open office door. “Mr. Schwartz?” she addressed the white-haired man sitting behind his large, mahogany desk. “I’m Natalie Garrison. My boss said you wanted to see me?”
Albert Schwartz, owner of Schwartz and Associates—the largest corporate accounting firm in Seattle—looked up from the papers he’d been studying and smiled.
“Mrs. Garrison, yes.” He waved her in. “Please, come in. And shut the door behind you, if you would.”
An unscheduled, closed-door meeting with the owner of the company. This is not a good sign, Nat. Not good at all.
Swallowing her nerves, she did as the man asked and stepped inside the impressive office. Closing the door softly behind her, Natalie made her way across the marble tile floors. Halfway to the man’s desk, Mr. Schwartz motioned to one of the two empty chairs facing his desk.
“Have a seat.”
Once she’d reached the nearest chair, she sat spine-straight on the edge of its smooth leather cushion. The nerves she’d already been feeling ramped up to DEFCON 1 levels, though she wasn’t sure why.
Her performance at the company since she’d first been hired nearly two years ago had been nothing less than stellar. The attaboys she’d received from both her direct supervisor and clients, as well as the glowing reviews in her personnel file were proof of that.
But it was just like when she was younger and a teacher—or God, forbid, the principal—asked to speak with her out of the blue. In every one of those instances, Natalie had gone into those conversations knowing she hadn’t done anything wrong. And yet, she’d also approached the authoritative figures completely scared out of her wits.