Page 60 of Lucky Charm

“Do you want to be there, want the joys when he is home, and to work at maintaining the base for that joy while he’s gone? Take the risk?”

Cait opened her mouth to answer but found she didn’t have one. “I don’t know.”

“Well, some more time spent with him might help. Quietly. Nothing wrong with short-term, but you won’t know if it’ll be more until you quit acting like it’s going nowhere and try to make it go somewhere.”

“Different commands, different priorities.”

“Excuses. You can work it if you want to. And that’s what you should do. Figure out what you want, then go for it.”

“Is that what you did?”

“Yes, and I don’t have regrets. I tried. It didn’t work.”

“Sounds like you should rethink yours, too.”

She smirked. “Nope. Done. Over. Yours, just starting.” She rose from the chair and put a hand on her shoulder. “Drink your water and make up your mind. In or out. And sign the book.” She shoved the water closer to Cait.

“Yes, ma’am.” She watched the slender woman leave, musing over her joie de verve.

She turned back to the table and stared at the book. The reality of Hunt’s life stared back at her.

Terrorist hunter.

She might recognize a few of these people from standing in that little house. She shut her eyes and twisted her hands together on the top of the book, battling a deep dread. Chest tight, she debated initialing the dang thing and passing it on. She wasn’t a coward, though. She flipped the first page open.

It might help Hunt.

That was the only reason to look.

Chapter Eleven

The small village was a dead husk.

The men had disappeared.

The vehicles were gone.

The house had been firebombed.

That Stocker had prevailed when he insisted on a new sneak-and-peek in the area irritated. They were surrounded by miles of valleys and mountains in an area where their communities were closed to outsiders. That they’d had enough of a moment to get a glimpse was a miracle. That Hunt’s team had been assigned to try again was to be expected. They knew what had been here four days ago.

Weather remained lousy.

Still, the area was clear. Not a fucking soul.

They’d done a full security sweep before entering the compound to be sure.

Hunt purposefully closed his eyes to clear the colors and refocus his concentration. The snow had been blown this way and that. The barren, rocky land had stayed covered in places and not in others attesting to the wind. Only klicks away from the same mountain they’d used for their escape, Hunt had divided the men to do similar searches of the terrain around the compound that they’d performed last time. With Quaid and K-Rock out with injuries, they had to pick up their searches, too. If anything, there appeared to be less here than before.

The side houses stood empty, doors open, and snow scattered across the floors. No one had bothered to close the places, a sign they wouldn’t be back. Haquiri’s mountain abode, where Doc had done her surgery, was a blackened partial structure bent on toppling in a good wind. Inside nothing remained of the medical equipment she’d brought along but melted metal. Burned. To the ground. But by who? Whether good old Haquiri had done it himself or it had been bombed by someone else unknown, it was a dead end. With patchy, cloudy weather, surveillance of the area had been spotty. The place was as haunted as a graveyard without bones.

“LT, you better come have a look at this.” Tommy’s voice broke his focus. “Head south, past the house and the big tree.”

Hunt moved quickly down the dirt track, following Tommy’s directions. Near a cluster of rock formations, the sniper stood leaning against the side of a six-foot boulder with jagged edges.

When Hunt got closer, Tommy pointed over his shoulder to a dark crevice. “Careful how you lean in. It’s got sharp edges, and the land drops off.”

“What have you got?”