Heart Of A Hero. Debra & Regan Webb & Black

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      “Shorts are for kids and physical training. Are you going to pull me off this operation if I don’t wear the shorts?”

      Thomas reached out and closed the plain manila file outlining Will’s assignment. Potential assignment. It could’ve been worse, Thomas supposed. He could be having this conversation in a public setting rather than the absolute privacy of his office. He couldn’t get a read on whether or not Will was kidding around. The uncertainty and unease set off warning bells in his head. He considered asking why the shorts were such a big deal and decided it didn’t matter. Through the years, he’d worked with so many men and women, those who did the impossible tasks in the field and those who worked right here supporting them. Eventually his luck with recruiting was bound to run out. One more sign that it was time to retire and put his personal life, his hopes for a family, ahead of the nation’s problems. But his nation needed him, had demanded his expertise one last time. If he assembled the right team, he could walk away with confidence.

      “I’ve changed my mind, Will. You’re not the right man for this job after all.”

      “Because I won’t deliver mail in those ridiculous shorts?”

      Thomas drummed his fingers on the file, met Will’s stony gaze. This recruit might be a bit too independent. “Because you’re agitated over a small conformity issue and that makes me question what you’ll do when the stakes are higher.”

      “Agitated is a bit of a stretch.” The smile on Will’s face didn’t reach his serious eyes. “You have to agree every postman who complies with that dress code is nothing more than a sheep.”

      “Thank you for your time,” Thomas said, determined to go with a different Specialist for this post.

      Will didn’t budge. “Forget the shorts. Forget agitated. You saw this one—” he pointed to the folder “—whatever it is, and chose me because I succeed, always, when the stakes are highest.”

      “I was wrong,” Thomas said with a casual hitch of his shoulders. “It happens. Close the door on your way out.”

      “No, sir. I want this assignment.”

      Thomas laughed. Couldn’t stop it. No one gave him this much trouble, other than his wife, and that had been long before they married. He shouldn’t find it refreshing. “You think you know how far you can push me?”

      “No, sir. I know how far I can push myself.”

      “From my perspective you can’t push yourself far enough to comply with the basic standards of your operation.”

      “The shorts are irrelevant, in any circumstance. You need someone willing to dig in for the long haul. Colorado was built by rugged individuals who don’t see conformity as strength. They value independence and wide-open spaces and they respect people with conviction.”

      “So this conversation was your attempt at an audition?” Thomas wasn’t laughing now. “That’s not how we do things here.”

      “It’s how they do things there.” Will’s eyes, intent and serious, underscored his point.

      Thomas turned to his computer monitor and adjusted his glasses, going over Will’s service record one more time. “Tell me what happened at Christmas.”

      Will didn’t evade or protest, didn’t get defensive or make excuses. No sign of agitation or argument now. Easing back into the chair, he smoothed his relaxed hands over his thighs. “Not much typically happens in the way of celebrating Christmas in Afghanistan unless you’re on a military installation.”

      Thomas still had the formal report up on his computer; he’d reviewed it one last time before Will had walked into the office. Officially, Will had been in the nosebleed section of the mountains tracking down a terrorist cell that had gone inactive due to the harsh winter weather.

      “And I wasn’t on base over the holiday.”

      “You didn’t have a chance to go home?” Thomas was impressed with the way Will maintained his composure. Maybe this was the real man, the real professional he’d been looking for since the meeting began.

      “Didn’t take it,” Will replied with a dismissive twitch of his shoulders. “The other guys had family missing them. My parents were doing fine.”

      “I’m sure they missed you.”

      Will leaned forward. “If you’re worried I’ll crack or break cover, that’s not a problem,” he said. “I’ve been away from home a long time, sir. The scarcity works for my family.”

      “All right.” Thomas rolled his hand. “Go on.”

      “As you know, recon and surveillance is long, quiet work, and I’m good at it. You get a sense of people when you’re watching them day and night.”

      Thomas agreed, glancing away from the computer and giving Will another long study. Everything but today’s meeting told him this was the right man for the Colorado job. Maybe the former SEAL was dealing with a postdeployment conflict with authority or some personality clash. But this new task force was too important. Thomas had to be sure Will could handle the emotional pressure of deep undercover work as well as the physical strain.

      “I’d been keeping an eye on the family for days. The middle daughter hauled water every day. I knew her routine. The target had been spotted to the south and then I went days with no sign of him. On December 25, I noticed the water girl’s routine changed. She made one extra trip, using a different footpath.”

      “You followed her.”

      “Right to the target, yes, sir.” Will dipped his chin. Eyes calm and steady. “I made the report. It felt like the perfect gift at the time.”

      Thomas waited, but Will didn’t seem inclined to share the rest of the story. “It took you two days to get your target out of that cave and into custody.”

      Will dipped his chin. “That’s what the report says.”

      Thomas leaned forward. “Do you want the post in Colorado?”

      “Yes, sir. Delivering mail and chatting up locals beats the hell out of crawling through caves on the other side of the world.”

      “Then tell me what really happened.”

      “I suppose you have the clearance,” Will said on a heavy sigh.

      Thomas managed to stifle his laughter this time.

      “I refused to move in immediately,” Will began. “On the twenty-fifth.”

      “You didn’t want to make an arrest on Christmas Day?” Thomas asked, pushing harder than he wanted to. This interview was like pulling teeth.

      “Everyone acts like I was sitting around waiting for Santa Claus,” Will snapped, lurching up and out of the chair. “I didn’t want the water girl to die on Christmas. Is that so damned terrible?” He stalked over to the window, hands braced on his hips. “If I’d gone in right after her they would’ve known. If somehow I couldn’t take them all, if I missed just one man, she would’ve been killed for sure. I have enough blood on my hands.”

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