Page 4

“Sophia.” Admiral Dane squeezed her hand. “If someone is funneling US weapons to the Taliban and ISIS, they’re not only endangering Afghan and Coalition troops, they’re threatening the progress Afghanistan has made. We need to stop them.”
Sophia’s mind raced at the implications. She’d gone after the job at LAI to have a more direct impact on improving the lives of Afghanistan’s women and children.
Something that wouldn’t happen if the Taliban regained power.
If someone at LAI was dirty and she helped expose them, her new boss would be grateful, not angry.
Wouldn’t he? The company bore his name, after all. His reputation was on the line.
The admiral stood and picked up his mug, signaling the end of his visit. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”
No one has to know.
“I’ll do it.”
“Good.” The admiral nodded as if he hadn’t expected her to answer any differently. “Start by looking into the global security division and its director, Lachlan Mackay.” He handed her a thumb drive. “Take a look at this when you have the chance.”
She escorted him to her door and said goodbye. The thumb drive she held felt like a grenade. Viewing the information it contained would be pulling the pin. If she read its contents, she’d committed to be Admiral Dane’s inside man—or woman in her case—at LAI.
Her laptop sat on the dining room table encased in its Lily Pulitzer sleeve. Sophia stood in the foyer, staring across the room at it, willing her feet to move. Curiosity finally won out.
Who was Lachlan Mackay?
She opened her laptop, plugged in the USB drive, and clicked on the single electronic file stored on the drive.
Lachlan Mackay’s bio was brief. Born in Scotland and educated at the University of Edinburgh, he’d served as a captain in the British Army’s 22ndSpecial Air Service regiment before getting out of the military and coming to work at LAI. Her respect for the man rose a notch. The SAS was considered one of the world’s most elite special forces units.
There was a list of military commendations she was unfamiliar with, and the dates of his deployments. He’d served in both Iraq and Afghanistan. The file also contained the names of individuals who currently made up his security teams in Kabul, their prior military affiliations, and the dates Lachlan had traveled to Afghanistan in the past year.
But it was his photo that grabbed her attention and held it. He had a model’s chiseled cheeks and jaw, a straight nose, and black hair that looked thick and carried a touch of wave that she bet would be more pronounced if he let it grow.
The Hot Scot. That would be her nickname for him. In secret, of course.
The color of his eyes was hard to distinguish from the photo, but the cold stare he’d directed at the camera spoke volumes. It wasn’t hard to believe he’d been a highly trained, dangerous soldier.
An involuntary shiver skittered across the back of her neck. She had no idea how to handle a man like him. She’d been the shy, geeky girl in high school, overlooked by most of the boys in favor of the prettier, more adventurous girls. There’d been a couple of boys in college, including the one she’d lost her virginity to, but those relationships hadn’t lasted, and she wasn’t the type to engage in casual sex. Since then, she’d been too busy trying to prove herself in her career, and no one had come along who piqued her interest enough to try.
Of course, maybe she’d set the bar too high, expecting a Prince Charming to sweep her off her feet and make her feel like she was the only one in the world that mattered.
It’d be nice to matter.
She sighed, her gaze returning to the face on the screen. This guy was way out of her league. And possibly a cold-blooded criminal.
Monday was her first day of work at LAI. She’d know soon enough if the flesh and blood man was anything like his photograph.
Chapter Three
Lachlanwasstillfightingjet lag the morning after his arrival as he sat across the table from his other team leader, Josh Burkette. Street maps and drone photos of Kabul and LAI’s project sites adorned the whitewashed walls of the windowless first-floor conference room. Unlike LAI’s headquarters in Alexandria, Virginia, the décor in the Kabul offices was strictly government-issue metal desks, file cabinets, and veneer-covered particle board furniture.
Burkette slouched in a metal folding chair in his form-fitting ripstop t-shirt and khaki cargo pants, his full brown beard not enough to mask an insolent expression. Burkette had been a Ranger in Jared Landry’s rifle platoon, hired before Lachlan had come on board. The bloke had weapons skills and native intelligence, but that was about it.
“Where were you yesterday afternoon?” Lachlan kept his tone level.
“It was my day off.” Josh’s flat black stare had Lachlan’s fingers curling into fists beneath the table.
“And you know there are rules about leaving the compound when off duty. Rules you neglected to follow. As a team leader, you must set an example for the men under your command.”
“Got it. We done here?” Burkette ran the tip of a silver mechanical pencil beneath his short nails, one at a time, inspecting them as he went along. “I’ve got to be on-site in an hour.”