Basic Training. Julie Miller

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Basic Training - Julie  Miller


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      He stepped back onto the patio as she opened the door—without undoing a single button. “What’s going on?”

      “I want your ass.”

      Shit. Had that just come out of his mouth?

      Tess’s green-gold eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

      Smooth one, McCormick.

      Travis swallowed hard, silently dressed down his libido and articulated his request as though he’d never uttered any indication of his crazy new attraction to her. “I need you to save my ass.”

      CAPTAIN KYLE BLACK knocked on the door frame marking Walter Craddock’s office and ushered himself inside as the general hung up the phone.

      He carried in the report Craddock hadn’t asked for until next week and set it on his desk. Seventeen hundred hours was generally quitting time, but it was never too late in the day to make an impression on his commanding officer. “Taking off for the weekend, sir?”

      Craddock nodded as he leaned back in his chair. “Actually, I’m heading out of town with Millie for a few days. Eileen’s coming with us, too. I’ve decided the only way to get that woman to take a vacation is to order her to.”

      “She’s not military, sir.”

      “Well, I won’t hold it against her.” Kyle grinned at the general’s dry humor. “We’ll be back in the office Tuesday morning.”

      “I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone, sir,” Kyle reassured him. He’d gotten assigned to the general’s office six months earlier. If Kyle’s career plan stayed on track, he’d make major and be running his own staff within the year. Moving up the chain of command was as much about making nice with the man who headed up the Corps’s promotions committee as it was doing an impeccable job. So he asked, “Where you headed?”

      “Ashton, Virginia.” The general rose, tucking his khaki shirt into his green gabardine slacks.

      Damn, Kyle thought. That’s where the traitor lived.

      Anticipating the general’s every need, Kyle retrieved his gold-trimmed, flat-topped hat from the stand beside the door. “Down on Chesapeake Bay?”

      “You’re familiar with the place?”

      Judging by the general’s questioning squint, Kyle must have revealed something in his own expression. Handing over the hat, Kyle held the smile on his face as if the mention of Ashton, Virginia, hadn’t just twisted like a hot knife in his back.

      “I’ve been there before.” Twice, to be precise. The first time had been with his buddies during their first leave from Officers Training School at Camp LeJeune. He’d learned who his real friends were then. And who his real competition was.

      Travis McCormick had walked around as if he were in a spotlight 24/7. The others in their unit had looked to the Action Man, not Kyle, for leadership, even though he’d earned just as many ribbons and points of distinction. Because he’d been flashier, drawn more attention to himself, McCormick had received the first promotion, drawn the coveted assignment to Special Ops—gotten the girl.

      But because he was all about precise planning and perseverence, Kyle had returned to Ashton a second time. With a purpose. On a very personal mission.

      He’d been shot down in flames. Made a fool of. Because of Travis McCormick. Again. Damn, what he wouldn’t give to make that right.

      But instead of venting any history, Kyle scratched his fingers across the back of his coal black crew cut and feigned nothing more than a passing knowledge of the place. “It’s one of those quaint little towns on the southern coast, right off the Atlantic. They have a big fair and celebration there every summer, don’t they? Is that where you’re headed?”

      Craddock tucked his hat beneath his arm and headed toward the door. “The Summer Bay Festival. Starts Monday. Frankly, I’m hoping to avoid all the hoopla. I’m going down to hang with an old buddy of mine, Hal McCormick. I hear the fish are biting.”

      “McCormick?” The knife in Kyle’s back twisted down to the hilt.

      Craddock paused and glanced over his shoulder. “You know the Brigadier?”

      The brigadier. Right. Kyle resumed his veneer of indispensable efficiency and shrugged. “By reputation only, sir. I was aide to his son, Ethan, until his transfer to Quantico. Then I came to your office.”

      “That’s right. Lieutenant Colonel McCormick’s recommendation is why I selected you for this assignment.”

      At least one brother had done right by him. “I appreciate that, sir. Did you and General McCormick serve together?”

      His superior’s craggy face eased into a smile. “For a lot of years. Hal owes me at least one trip on his boat.”

      Travis McCormick owed Kyle a lot more than that. But Kyle had no intention of letting anything but friendly respect show in his face and posture. “Then I’ll say, ‘Bon voyage.’ You’d better hit the road unless you enjoy the rush hour traffic out of D.C.”

      The general strode through the doorway. Kyle paced after him, turning toward his desk. But Craddock’s curse stopped him before he reached his chair. “Did Eileen leave already?”

      “She was taking those files down to the JAG’s office on her way out.” Kyle reached for the phone on the corner of his desk. “You want me to page her?”

      “No, if she just left, I’ll run her down.” The general hesitated at the door. “If my wife calls, tell her…hell, I was supposed to talk to Eileen before she left. Tell her—”

      “—You’re heading straight home after you touch base with Mrs. Ward? I’ll call the JAG’s office to detain her, just in case.”

      Craddock smiled. Point scored. “You’re a good man, Black. You got plans this weekend?”

      Kyle nodded. He always had a date.

      “Enjoy it.”

      “Thank you, sir.” They traded salutes and the general left. As soon as he finished the call to the JAG office, Kyle was pulling up a duty assignment on his computer.

      Kyle scanned the information on the screen, memorizing every detail. Captain Travis McCormick had been assigned a six-week medical leave, following six months in hospital and six months on light duty at Quantico. Six weeks? Medical? Someone was worried. If he knew McCormick, he’d be bustin’ his butt to turn that leave into four weeks, or even two.

      “You’re not Superman anymore, are you?” he taunted the computer monitor in lieu of McCormick’s face.

      Kyle had plans, all right. But the model he’d been seeing the past two weeks held little interest for him at the moment. He was too busy typing in the necessary info to request a temporary leave himself. Just a few days. The Summer Bay Festival and its draw of military personnel from up and down the East Coast would provide the perfect cover. Once General Craddock returned, Kyle would hit the road for Ashton himself. He could do a few scouting jaunts beforehand, learn McCormick’s routine, devise a plan.

      To Kyle’s way of thinking, this wasn’t about striking a man while he was down. It was about locating the enemy’s vulnerability and using that weakness to his advantage to ensure victory.

      It was about payback.

      4

      “A LITTLE HELP?” Tess grabbed Travis’s unshaven jaw and turned his appreciative gaze away from Robin, the brunette ward clerk who’d retrieved his signed consent form with a wink and an encouraging smile. With the door to the otherwise empty PT room closing on the distraction of Robin’s backside, Tess pointed to her own eyes. “Right here, McCormick. Concentrate.”

      “Come on, T-bone. I haven’t had a chance to play for twelve months.” He offered up a “poor me” look as he


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