Destiny's Woman. Lindsay McKenna

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      Akiva sat on one side of the planning room and leaned back in the chair, her legs crossed. In the center of the room an overhead projector sat on a table, flashing the first diagram on the white wall in front of them. Two men—both civilians, although she knew they’d both been in the military at one time—stood talking in low tones to one another next to the projector. They’d introduced themselves to her earlier. Akiva had seen them on other occasions at the base, but had never been formally introduced until now. Though she’d arrived right on time for the planned meeting, now that she was here she found her heart beating in panic. Could she really command this mission? More than anything, Akiva didn’t want to disappoint Maya. That one fear gave her the resolve to try and make the mission work.

      Hearing the door open, Akiva turned to see who had come in. She saw Maya move briskly into the room, clipboard in her left hand. As Chief Warrant Officer Joe Calhoun followed, Akiva’s brows knitted and her pulse accelerated. Akiva wanted to hate him. He was a white man. And right now, Calhoun represented all Anglo men to her. Working her mouth, she found a bitter taste in it. Reaching for a paper cup that sat next to her folding chair, Akiva took a quick gulp of the tepid water. When she looked up, she saw Joe Calhoun standing right in front of her, his large, square hand extended.

      Akiva choked on the water that was halfway down her gullet. Coming up and out of the chair, she coughed deeply, her hand pressed against her throat. Damn! Moving away from him, she finished coughing and turned. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she met his smiling gray eyes. His hand was still extended toward her.

      “I just wanted to congratulate you, Chief Redtail.” Joe saw her gold eyes narrow with fury. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment. He saw her gaze drop to his hand and then snap back up to his eyes.

      “Thanks,” Akiva mumbled. She ignored his hand and sat back down, crossing her arms belligerently. She wished mightily that Calhoun would go sit down in one of the chairs on the other side of the room. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

      Joe tempered his disappointment as Akiva refused to shake his hand. Okay, that was fine. He introduced himself to Morgan and Mike, who gripped his hand warmly with obvious welcome. Searching around, he saw a chair nearby and reached for it. As he sat down, he noticed Morgan Trayhern, Mike Houston and Major Stevenson studying them. Feeling heat crawl up his neck and into his face, he saw the quizzical look on the two men’s faces, the worry banked in Major Stevenson’s eyes. Everyone had seen Akiva snub him. Embarrassed, Joe felt as if he’d done something wrong, but there was nothing he could do to rectify it.

      “Okay,” Maya said crisply, “let’s get this mission planning on the road. Chiefs Redtail and Calhoun, I think you already know Mr. Trayhern and Mr. Houston? Good. Morgan, do you want to start this briefing?”

      Morgan Trayhern shrugged out of his dark green nylon jacket and placed it on the back of one of the chairs. Dressed in a pair of jeans, hiking boots and a dark blue polo shirt, he turned and opened up a briefing file. “Mike? You want to give Chiefs Redtail and Calhoun the dope, here?” He handed two sets of information packets to him to give to the warrant officers.

      Houston, who was dressed similarly, nodded. He quickly handed out the twenty-page packets on the planned mission. Joe nodded and thanked him. Akiva’s belligerent look faded and she actually softened the line of her mouth as he handed the papers to her.

      Morgan stood at the projector. On the wall was a map of southern Mexico. “We were able to use satellite infrared to locate this little airport facility. It’s hidden deep in the jungle and is completely surrounded by old-growth trees.” Flashing his laser penlight, Morgan circled what appeared to be a small pinprick in the map. “This is the exit-entrance point. Many years ago druggies cleared this thousand-foot-long dirt runway for light, fixed-wing aircraft, as well as helicopters. They were using the aircraft to haul cocaine shipments.”

      Akiva sat up. “You said helicopters? What kind?”

      Joe glanced at her. She was now in combat mode, tense and alert, her huge gold eyes narrowed on the map in front of them. Despite her prickliness, Joe couldn’t help but admire Akiva. She was six feet tall, big boned, and her womanly body was firmly muscled beneath her tight-fitting black uniform. Joe would never admit it to anyone, because it would be considered sexist by the U.S. Army today, but by damn, she was a good-lookin’ woman, with curves in all the right places. She was easy on the eyes, as his fellow Texans would say.

      Joe’s problem was that he wanted to stare like a slobbering fool at Akiva. She commanded everyone’s attention whenever she strode into a room. He liked the fact she wore the bright red scarf of her Apache heritage around her head. Her high, sharp cheekbones and large, slightly tilted eyes gave her the look of a lone wolf on the hunt. That excited him. And yet she’d rebuffed his friendly overtures at every turn. Joe figured she didn’t like him СКАЧАТЬ