Chapter 18
18
Rachel
The briefing was like the other 60 I’d given over the years: cut and dried. Just the facts.
And, like at least a third of those other briefings, I had to deal with an asshole who thought I didn’t belong in the room.
He was part of the Spanish Special Forces – but blatant disrespect wasn’t a phenomenon limited to Spaniards, Latins, or even Europeans. The last time it had happened, it had been a South Korean colonel. Before that, a South African. And before that, it had been one of my colleagues at MI6.
But it was always a man. Always.
I dealt with it in the usual way: I told him that if he didn’t want to be in the room, he could leave. I set my boundaries very clearly, and when he pushed back, I pushed back harder.
Most of the time, they swallowed their pride and went along to get along.
Sometimes they didn’t.
I could tell Delgado was going to be one of the latter. He put on a smile and said ‘yes,’ but I could see the desire for payback in his eyes.
If a man had chewed him out, he would have taken his lumps and retreated with his tail behind his legs.
But I was a woman… and what I’d done to him was unforgivable.
I told myself I would figure out what to do about him later. Then I went on with the briefing.
The good news was that I seemed to have won over the rest of the group. At least, I didn’t sense any outright hostility, which I regarded as a win.
After the briefing was over, I discussed logistics with the American in charge of the op. As I started to pack up my things, I pondered what I should do about Delgado –
When the sexiest voice I’d ever heard jolted me out of my thoughts.
“Hello p>
I looked up at a face that was even hotter than the voice.
He was tall – probably 6’4” – and broad-shouldered with dark blond hair. Lots of muscles stretched out his olive grey t-shirt: a powerful chest, huge biceps, and a flat stomach.
I’d noticed him as soon as I’d walked into the briefing – and I’d had to avert my eyes. He was so attractive that it was distracting.
It took me a second to place him. The photo I’d seen in his file was clean-shaven, taken back when he was still in Sweden.
Like most Special Forces guys who deployed to Afghanistan, he’d grown a beard. Unlike other Special Forces guys, though, his was neatly trimmed and made him ten times hotter.
I couldn’t recall his name at first – but those crystal blue eyes jogged my memory.
“Henriksson, right p>
“Call me Lars p>
His voice was deep but not too deep… more a rich bass than a basso profondo. The aural equivalent of the smoothest whiskey you’ve ever tasted.
His accent was American, and he spoke with only the tiniest trace of a Swedish accent.
Looked hot, sounded hot –
Hot, hot, HOT.
However, I put my physical attraction aside and remained 100% business.
There had been one occasion in the distant past where I’d returned a colleague’s flirtations, and I had paid for it when he turned into a chauvinist pig. Unfortunately, letting a man know you fancy him tends to undermine his professional respect for you.
Never again.
“What can I do for you, Henriksson p>
He seemed slightly disappointed – like he was hoping I might be a bit friendlier.
He’s attracted to you, a little voice whispered in my ear.
I ignored it.
There were very few women in my line of work, so you got used to men being constantly attracted to you.
…just not ones this hot.
But Henriksson got the hint and remained 100% business, too.
“You might want to take Delgado off the team p>
I’d been considering that very same thing.
What I didn’t know yet was whether Henriksson was a good guy…
Or whether he thought I couldn’t handle an asshole.
“And why is that?” I asked, reserving judgment until I heard more.
“One of the guys in his unit warned me that if you get on Delgado’s bad side, you don’t want him backing you up in the field p>
“…because p>
“Because if he has a problem with you, he’ll let the Taliban take care of it p>
“Delgado has intentionally left other soldiers unprotected so that they’re injured or killed by the enemy p>
“That’s what the guy said p>
“Which guy p>
I knew he wouldn’t tell me.
He didn’t disappoint.
“Just a guy p>
“Have you reported this p>
“No p>
“Why not p>
Henriksson shrugged. “There’s no proof. It’s just something he heard from someone back in Spain p>
“That’s a serious charge,” I pointed out.
“Yes, it is p>
“But you’re not going to report it p>
I’ll admit I was irritated. He wouldn’t go tell his superiors that a backstabber was putting other soldiers in danger… but he’d warn the frail, defenseless little girl that she was in over her head.
“If I go to Command, they’ll ask for proof,” he explained. “I don’t have any. Then they’ll bring in the guy who told me. He’ll deny he said anything. And even if he doesn’t deny it, he doesn’t have any proof, either. And if it gets back to Delgado, then we’re both on his shit list p>
His logic was sound – but there was a hint of condescension in his voice, like I should have figured all that out on my own.
Little did he know, I already had – long before he opened his mouth.
I just wanted to see how well he would communicate his thoughts.
Not as well as I would have liked.
The more generous part of me whispered, You DO realize English isn’t his native language, right? He might be fluent, but maybe he’s not the world’s greatest expert in the intricacies of tone.
However, the irritated part of me? The one that had dealt with dozens of other chauvinist pigs over the years?
That part won out.
“So… you decided to spread a little gossip instead,” I said.
Henriksson’s demeanor immediately cooled off several degrees. “I was just trying to help p>
OHHHHHH – you were just trying to HELP.
NOW I see.
My bad.
“Like Delgado was ‘trying to help’ by suggesting I stand down p>
He seemed to take real offense to that.
“I came to you in private,” he said coldly.
“I guess I should thank you for trying to undermine me in private, then, instead of in public p>
Now he looked downright irritated. “I’m not trying to undermine you – I’m trying to warn you. You just publicly humiliated a man known for stabbing other people in the back – ”
“I can handle Delgado, Henriksson,” I said brusquely. “But thank you for your input p>
Then I handled him the way I handled every other man who thought I didn’t belong in the room:
I turned away and ignored him.
That was when he showed his true colors.
“How much combat have you seen?” he asked in a snotty voice.
I have to admit, that got my hackles up.
“Oh, so now you’re questioning my credentials?” I snapped. “You’re right, you’re not like Delgado at all p>
He glowered at me. “I’m wondering if you know how important it is to thoroughly trust the men you go into battle with p>
The MEN you go into battle with.
Not the ‘people p>
Not the ‘soldiers p>
Definitely not the ‘women p>
The MEN.
I fixed him with a don’t fuck with me stare. “I know this: I’m tired of men presuming to know what’s best for me p>
“I was just trying to help – ”
“Don’t. You worry about yourself; I’ll handle Delgado. You stay out of it p>
I saw the muscles in his jaw tense up. “Fine p>
Then he turned around and walked out of the room.
Okay…
I’ll admit…
Even though I was irritated with the guy, I checked out his ass as he left.
Bloody hell.
It was just as hot as the rest of him.
Muscular and firm and it definitely filled out his pants –
Then I reprimanded myself.
Cut it out – you’re doing the same thing you hate when men do it to you.
Still, I cut myself a little slack. It was hard not to ogle a man when he was as scorching hot as Lars Henriksson.
But he’d still made me angry.
So now I was angry and turned on.
Not a good combination before a dangerous mission.
I decided to go find the base gym and work out some of my frustration on a punching bag.
A little violence had always been effective therapy for me. More effective than real therapy, anyway.
But Henriksson’s words served as a troubling reminder:
I had to figure out what to do about Delgado, and fast…
Or it might not just be the Taliban I had to worry about.