His Woman in Command & Operations: Forbidden: His Woman in Command / Operation: Forbidden. Lindsay McKenna

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      “Well,” Emma said, “you’ll be delivering the last load of the day to them. If you get a chance, stay on the ground for an hour and find out what’s going on. I like to get eyes and ears out there on those villages. Dallas wants to keep a check on them and whether they get slammed by the Taliban.”

      “Good idea.” Nike wasn’t too sure she wanted to spend an hour on the ground to visit with Gavin. She saw the curiosity in Emma’s eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

      “Do it at each stop, Nike. We want you to talk to the leader of each team and get their latest assessment.”

      It wasn’t a bad idea, Nike thought as she put on her black BJS baseball cap. “Okay, will do,” she promised. “This is going to be more like a milk run.”

      Emma walked her to the door. “I hope you’re right. But be careful. Those four villages are not on our side. Yet.”

      “Getting food, medical personnel and medicine in to them on a regular basis will help,” Nike said, opening the door. The crisp air was barely above freezing. Nike would be glad when June came. Everyone said it got warmer at the beginning of that month. In the mountains at eight thousand feet, a local gardener told her that there was less than a ninety-day growing period. This made gardening tough, which was why most people had goats, chickens, sheep and few vegetables. Certainly, fruit was scarce, too.

      Clapping her on the shoulder, Emma reminded her, “Be careful out there. Dallas does not want to lose any of her pilots.”

      Grinning, Nike gave her a mock salute and said, “Oh, not to worry, XO. We’re a tough bunch of women.” She decided to swing by the base exchange and picked up four boxes of dates and four pounds of candy for the kids. Dates were a delicacy usually eaten only at the time of Ramadan. Poor villages couldn’t afford such a wonderful fruit and Nike wanted to give it to the wife of the chief of each village. The meaning of her exchange would go far with the women of the village to cement a positive connection. And the children would love the sweets. That made her smile because the Afghan children were beautiful, so full of life and laughter.

      * * *

      Gavin was surprised as hell to see Nike walking toward him from the helicopter. She’d covered her short, shining dark curls with a black baseball cap. He grinned, feeling his heart open up.

      “Hey,” he called, “this is a pleasant surprise.”

      Her lips tingled in anticipation. Nike could see the happiness burning in his blue eyes as he approached her. While part of her wanted to rush into Gavin’s arms, she halted a good six feet from him, hands on her hips. “Just dropping off supplies, a doctor and dentist, and getting the lay of the land and giving Jameela a box of dates as a goodwill gesture.”

      Gavin sensed her unease but kept his smile. “Dates. That’s a great idea.” He added, “I missed you.”

      Though wildly flattered, Nike couldn’t get on a personal footing with him. Lucky for them, there was all kinds of activity around the unloading of the helo. A number of men carried the cardboard boxes into the village. The doctor and dentist were led into a group of awaiting men and boys. “My boss wants me to spend an hour with you getting a sense of how things are going at the village. She’s compiling an ongoing dialogue with the generals above her on where each village stands.”

      Raising his brows, Gavin said, “You ladies are on top of things.” He gestured for her to follow him. “Come on, we’ll go to the team house, have some chai and chat.”

      Nike did not want to be alone with Gavin. He was too damned masculine. She wished for the thousandth time her traitorous body would stop clamoring for another kiss from him. Her mind was in charge and no way could she get involved again. Ever. “Okay, but this is business, Captain.”

      “No problem,” Gavin said smoothly.

      Walking at his shoulder, a good twelve inches between them, Nike said, “You never got that attack you were expecting. I’m glad.”

      Gavin dodged the muddy ruts made by the continuous donkey-cart traffic through the village. “Yeah, we’re relieved. But suspicious.” The sun had warmed the village and children played in the late afternoon. Dogs ran around barking and chasing one another. Women in burkas were here and there, but mostly, they moved the window curtains aside to stare at them walking by.

      Nike saw a number of barefoot children with mud up to their knees. She smiled a little. They were tough little kids in her opinion and yet, so huggable. She started handing out the bag of candy she carried in her hand. In no time, every child in the village surrounded them. Nike made sure each child, no matter how little, got a handful of jellybeans. When it was gone, they disappeared with their treasures. She turned to Gavin. “I’m glad for you it’s been quiet around here. Why do you think that happened?”

      Gavin nodded as they sauntered toward the stone home on the left. “We think the Taliban got tipped off by someone here in the village and they decided to take other paths into the country.”

      “But that doesn’t guarantee anything for long,” Nike said.

      “True, but we’re making progress. Abbas is softening his stance toward us. He’s still worried the Taliban will see him consorting with us. And I think someone in the village was scared to death of the same thing, intercepted the Taliban and told them to take another track. That way, it would look like this village was still helping the Taliban. It’s a real balancing act out here for Abbas.” Gavin halted and gestured to a large mud-brick home. “Here we are. Come on in. I’m ready for some hot chai.”

      Inside, the hard-packed earth had been swept. Everything was clean and neat. The men’s equipment stood up against the walls in neat rows. There was a stove in the corner with plenty of wood, the tin chimney rising up and out of the roof. The windows were clean and sunlight made the room almost bright, if not cheerful.

      “Have a seat,” Gavin said, taking off his hat and putting his rifle nearby. He shrugged out of the dark brown tunic and then removed his body armor. “Feels good to get out of this thing,” he muttered. “I live in it almost twenty-four hours a day.”

      “Armor is the pits,” Nike agreed. She saw several small rugs and pillows near the stove. Taking a seat on one, she watched as Gavin went through the motions of putting water in a copper kettle and then sitting it on top of the stove. Her heart pined for his arms around her, his mouth cherishing her lips. For now, she fought her desire, crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap.

      “If your CO wants to know about this village,” Gavin said, pulling a tin of loose tea off a shelf, “tell her that we’ve got about a twenty-percent pro-American base here now. The men are starting to open up to us.”

      “Is that all?” Nike pulled out a notebook and a pen from her left pocket.

      Gavin filled the tea strainer and gave her a one-raised-eyebrow look. “Is that all? It’s only been a week. I think that’s pretty amazing.”

      Jotting it down, Nike said, “I’ve brought a medical doctor and a dentist and hygienist with me. That ought to encourage a little more loyalty.”

      He poured hot water into two tin mugs and then dipped in the strainer filled with loose tea. “If we could gain loyalty like that, all we’d have to do is hand out money and buy them off.”

      “I understand.”

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