dozen countries.
“You’re not going to talk about Delta Force, are you?” Morgan said with a smile. “Mr. Enigma.”
“I can’t talk about any Spec Ops units I might or might not have been in. I
can
tell you I was a sniper in a Ranger regiment for a while.”
Her eyes popped comically wide. “A sniper? Really?”
If that revelation had bowled her over, it would be interesting to see how she reacted to some of his hairier missions.
“What was it like to be a sniper in Iraq? It must have been terrible over there.” She sounded torn between admiration and horror.
“It wasn’t as bad as you might think,” he said, shading the truth. He wouldn’t talk about all the overwatch missions he’d been on, covering army and marine units as they fought to clear out al-Qaeda-infested neighborhoods. “We patrolled at night and slept a lot during the day because it was so damn hot outside. Spent a lot of time playing volleyball and cards and working out.”
Morgan looked uncertain. “But . . . you killed people, right? That was your job as a sniper, wasn’t it?”
“Sure. Terrorists who were killing our soldiers and kidnapping and murdering journalists and any Iraqis or Afghanis that stood up to them. Real sweet dudes who loved to behead people.”
Ryan had no regrets about enlisting after 9/11 and heading to Afghanistan eight months later. Nor had he ever second-guessed his decision to join the Rangers and then Delta. But more than a decade on the front lines had been enough. His units had completed their missions with effectiveness and honor, never leaving a man behind.
She went silent for a few seconds, a common reaction. “I tried to find as much information as I could about Double Shield Corporation too,” she finally admitted.
“You really should think about getting a PI license if you ever get tired of teaching. You’re a regular Philip Marlowe.”
She wagged a finger at him. “Sarcasm is not your forte, Butler, especially dated sarcasm.”
He shrugged.
“From what I read, it sounds like Double Shield’s main business is supplying mercenaries to dictators and big corporations around the world,” she said.
That unexpected shot hit him like a bullet to a ballistic vest. Her tone, while light, held a note of disapproval. He cautioned himself not to overreact. “Some people put that slant on it. Actually, we’re all about keeping people safe in dangerous environments and situations. I’ve helped a lot of good folks who would be in big trouble unless they had us to stand between them and the bastards who want to kidnap or kill them.”
Becoming aware that he’d tensed up and was leaning forward in what Morgan might interpret as an aggressive posture, he took a couple of deep breaths and relaxed back into his chair. But hell, his fun night was starting to go south fast.
She nodded, looking ultraserious. “I totally get that, Ryan, but how long can you keep doing something so dangerous? Don’t you worry that your number will come up sooner or later?”
Jesus, what was he supposed to say to that?
When he didn’t answer, she let out a sad little sigh and toyed with the base of her wineglass. “I was alwaysworried that something might happen to you in Iraq or Afghanistan. Now it looks like I’m never going to be able to stop worrying about you.”
Ryan froze. His mother had said the same thing in almost exactly the same words. But from Morgan? Unless he was reading her all wrong, the kind of emotion he saw in her sky-blue eyes was a whole lot more than concern for a longtime friend.
And he wasn’t quite sure how that made him feel.
“I’m sorry, Ryan. I made it all about me when it’s about you. Just ignore me.”
He reached across the table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Morgan, you don’t need to worry about me. I just do my job, and if I do it right, everybody should end up safe.”
Ryan hoped that would reassure her. In truth though, there was only so much he
“You’re not going to talk about Delta Force, are you?” Morgan said with a smile. “Mr. Enigma.”
“I can’t talk about any Spec Ops units I might or might not have been in. I
can
tell you I was a sniper in a Ranger regiment for a while.”
Her eyes popped comically wide. “A sniper? Really?”
If that revelation had bowled her over, it would be interesting to see how she reacted to some of his hairier missions.
“What was it like to be a sniper in Iraq? It must have been terrible over there.” She sounded torn between admiration and horror.
“It wasn’t as bad as you might think,” he said, shading the truth. He wouldn’t talk about all the overwatch missions he’d been on, covering army and marine units as they fought to clear out al-Qaeda-infested neighborhoods. “We patrolled at night and slept a lot during the day because it was so damn hot outside. Spent a lot of time playing volleyball and cards and working out.”
Morgan looked uncertain. “But . . . you killed people, right? That was your job as a sniper, wasn’t it?”
“Sure. Terrorists who were killing our soldiers and kidnapping and murdering journalists and any Iraqis or Afghanis that stood up to them. Real sweet dudes who loved to behead people.”
Ryan had no regrets about enlisting after 9/11 and heading to Afghanistan eight months later. Nor had he ever second-guessed his decision to join the Rangers and then Delta. But more than a decade on the front lines had been enough. His units had completed their missions with effectiveness and honor, never leaving a man behind.
She went silent for a few seconds, a common reaction. “I tried to find as much information as I could about Double Shield Corporation too,” she finally admitted.
“You really should think about getting a PI license if you ever get tired of teaching. You’re a regular Philip Marlowe.”
She wagged a finger at him. “Sarcasm is not your forte, Butler, especially dated sarcasm.”
He shrugged.
“From what I read, it sounds like Double Shield’s main business is supplying mercenaries to dictators and big corporations around the world,” she said.
That unexpected shot hit him like a bullet to a ballistic vest. Her tone, while light, held a note of disapproval. He cautioned himself not to overreact. “Some people put that slant on it. Actually, we’re all about keeping people safe in dangerous environments and situations. I’ve helped a lot of good folks who would be in big trouble unless they had us to stand between them and the bastards who want to kidnap or kill them.”
Becoming aware that he’d tensed up and was leaning forward in what Morgan might interpret as an aggressive posture, he took a couple of deep breaths and relaxed back into his chair. But hell, his fun night was starting to go south fast.
She nodded, looking ultraserious. “I totally get that, Ryan, but how long can you keep doing something so dangerous? Don’t you worry that your number will come up sooner or later?”
Jesus, what was he supposed to say to that?
When he didn’t answer, she let out a sad little sigh and toyed with the base of her wineglass. “I was alwaysworried that something might happen to you in Iraq or Afghanistan. Now it looks like I’m never going to be able to stop worrying about you.”
Ryan froze. His mother had said the same thing in almost exactly the same words. But from Morgan? Unless he was reading her all wrong, the kind of emotion he saw in her sky-blue eyes was a whole lot more than concern for a longtime friend.
And he wasn’t quite sure how that made him feel.
“I’m sorry, Ryan. I made it all about me when it’s about you. Just ignore me.”
He reached across the table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Morgan, you don’t need to worry about me. I just do my job, and if I do it right, everybody should end up safe.”
Ryan hoped that would reassure her. In truth though, there was only so much he
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