The Woman Left Behind Read online

  By the time she had checked all items off her list and was ready to go, the coffee was made. She turned off the machine, poured the coffee into a thermos she had sitting ready, dumped the grounds into a plastic bag placed there just for that purpose, gave the carafe a quick rinse, grabbed the rest of her stuff, and was out the door. She dropped the plastic bag containing the coffee grounds in a trash can at the curb. She had learned, after that horrendously long mission, to not put scraps of food in her kitchen trash can assuming she’d be there to take it out before it started stinking. This type of job required thinking through every detail, mundane or not.

  At 2:13 a.m. she ran out of the condo building. Her car was covered with such a thick coating of frost that at first she thought it had snowed since she’d gone to bed. Unsurprised but swearing under her breath anyway, she started her car, scraped the windshield just enough that she had a small clear space to peer through, and was on her way.

  She reached the small private airfield they’d been instructed to go to, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach. This was the same airfield where Levi and Boom had forced her to parachute; though it was dark now and deep in winter’s grip, she recognized the hell hole. Instead of a Twin Otter idling on the runway, a small jet sat there, lights on, waiting for them.

  Levi was the first one there. The second arrival was herself.

  She parked beside his truck, took a bracing breath, squared her shoulders, and climbed out of her car. On the other side of his truck, a door opened and slammed shut as he got out. Levi being Levi, there was no interior light to give his position away. Annoyed, she realized all the others likely turned off their interior lights, too; one more thing to add to her never-ending list of things to learn and do.

  Silently she got out her gear, her go-bag, her thermos, and locked the car, though considering how cold it was, waiting inside the car would be smarter.

  “C’mon,” Levi said, “we’ll board the plane and wait there.”

  “I need to wait for the air mail,” she said, referring to Tweety and its carrier.

  “He can bring it to the plane. Same amount of time, and you won’t be cold. Besides, first ones on the plane snag the best seats.”

  “I’m just glad there are seats,” she muttered. When they’d hitched a ride home in a cargo plane, comfort had been secondary. They’d parked themselves wherever they could, in whatever position they could manage.

  Two other sets of headlights were approaching; their opportunity to be the first ones aboard was fast disappearing, so she fell into step beside Levi. She’d never been in a small jet before, and she was curious.

  The pilot met them at the steps and eyed their bags. “Anything need to go in the hold?”

  Levi said, “No, we travel light.”

  That was an understatement. Their go-bags were all small duffels, even hers. She had diversified and refined, and her bag now weighed a good five pounds less than it had before.

  She climbed the steps and poked her head in. The operative word was small. There was no standing in the cabin; it was like getting into a car. The interior had been configured to allow seating for eight passengers, but the jet wasn’t a luxury model. Aft were four seats facing forward, two to a row. Then there were two seats facing the other four. The fore seat was a two-seat bench, like a small loveseat, with an arm divider, and it faced the cabin door. Levi pushed her forward, into the plane, and by instinct she started down the narrow aisle to take one of the seats in back.

  “Here,” Levi said, taking her arm and pretty much depositing her on the loveseat, in the seat closest to the pilot. Then he dropped into the seat beside her.

  Not good.

  “I wanted to sit in back.”

  “Yeah, but I need to sit here, and I want you beside me.” His dark eyes raked her face. “Don’t argue.”

  “Why do you need to sit here?” she asked, just as Trapper came up the steps and poked his head in.

  “Because that’s the one seat where he can stretch out his legs,” Trapper groused. “No matter how hard I try to get here first, he always beats me.”

  She could see that. Levi was the tallest of the team, and the space between the other seats would be tight even for the other guys. What she didn’t see was why she had to sit beside him; shouldn’t she take one of the other seats to give someone else more room? She would rather sit beside any of the others, even Voodoo. Voodoo’s surliness was easier to take than feeling her nerves frayed by every brush of Levi’s arm, or his leg, or feeling the heat emanating from him even across the arm rest. Her senses were so acutely focused on him that she could even smell him, that stomach-clenching scent of heat and skin and testosterone. That was all it took to send her senses reeling back to those moments when she’d felt his weight bearing her down, the thrust of his knee between her legs, the hard bulge of his erection just where—

  She took a deep, quiet breath, forcing the memory-sensation away. She was warm, now, heat suffusing her entire body, even her fingertips. Her mouth felt full and soft, as if he’d been kissing her.

  This was torture.

  She started to move, no matter what he said. But then the other guys were climbing in, filling the other seats. Voodoo was the last to arrive—except for the headquarters guy who ran up with Tweety and the laptop. She got up to take possession of both, signing the three-part form he thrust at her because even off-the-books entities still had paperwork, and when she turned back Voodoo had taken the last available regular seat. She curled her lip in his direction, not that he cared because he didn’t see it. Resigned, she sat back down beside Levi, and buckled in.

  As soon as they were in the air, Levi nudged his knee against hers. “You gonna share that coffee you’ve been hiding?” he asked, a twinkle replacing the usual somberness in his eyes. “I saw the thermos when you got out of the car, and I know you didn’t fill it with milk.”

  Six other heads turned in her direction. “Coffee?” Boom said, his tone hopeful.

  Now she knew why Levi had wanted her beside him; coffee was the lure. The realization was both lowering and relieving.

  “Blabbermouth,” she muttered at him. Louder she asked, “Did none of you think to bring coffee? Never mind. Of course you didn’t. You’re men. I lost my head there, for a second.”

  “It’s the job,” Boom said. “We just get up and go.”

  “So did I, but I punched a button on the coffeemaker before doing anything else.” Resigned, she looked around. “Anything y’all can use for cups? The thermos top is mine, and I’m not sharing.”

  They began scrounging around. A few polystyrene cups were found. Levi stuck his head through the curtain that closed off the cockpit, and the pilot was good enough to donate a few more. The pilot had his own thermos of coffee, but he didn’t offer to share. Smart man.

  Dividing the coffee eight ways, there was no way for any of them to get much more than an ounce each, maybe an ounce and a half, but when it came to coffee an ounce was better than nothing. Reduced to sips, she savored every one of them. It wasn’t much, but it would get her through.

  After the coffee was gone, she hauled out the laptop and checked the program. There wasn’t any real need to, but it kept her busy.

  Levi’s long legs were stretched out, and he reclined his seat, settled into a more comfortable position, and tipped his cap forward to cover his eyes. Jina glanced around; because the two seats closest to them were facing backward, Crutch, seated on the opposite side of the aisle and facing forward, was the only other team member whose face she could actually see, and he was already asleep. All of them had reclined their seats and were doing their combat-nap routines, grabbing sleep while they could.

  They were the experienced ones, so she should follow their example. She took off her coat and pulled it over her like a blanket, then reclined her seat, curled on her side away from Levi, and closed her eyes.

  Maybe she dozed. At the least she created a cocoon for herself, with her head almost covered by her co