The Heart Beneath. Lindsay McKenna
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foot five inches tall and surrounded by mostly male marines much taller than she was. Squeezing between the tightly packed officers, Callie called, “Here, sir! I’m here!”
Colonel Gray’s eyes narrowed across the crowded room. “Who is here?” he boomed. “I hear a voice. Let her through, gentlemen.”
Callie moved forward, twisting and slithering between officers who stepped aside to create a path for her. She approached the podium. “Lieutenant Callie Evans, sir. I’m the X.O. of the dog rescue unit. How can I help?”
Gray smiled thinly. “Lieutenant, I want you to work with Lieutenant Wes James here.” He pointed to the man in civilian attire directly to the right of him. “He’s a trained civil engineer. We’re getting calls for help from fire and police departments all over the L.A. basin. He’s in charge of blocking off specific areas into grid coordinates. In each of these areas, I want one of your dogs and a handler. We’re going to be putting you on the front lines, Lieutenant Evans. Your people know how to find victims buried in rubble. You go with Lieutenant James now, and create a workable plan. We’ll then fly you and your teams out by helicopter to specific trouble zones to hunt for survivors. Any questions?”
Callie gulped. Lieutenant James was the man she was drawn to earlier. Focusing back on the general, she shook her head. “No, sir.”
“Good, get going—and be careful out there. Our people are a precious resource and there’s no way to replace any one of you if we lose you in this unmitigated disaster….”
“Yes, sir.” Callie turned and looked up into the narrowed green eyes of the officer, Wes James. He stood at least six foot tall, and was wearing a pair of black jeans, plus a white shirt that was streaked with grass stains. His black hair was short and uncombed and his face smudged with dirt. She saw the darkness beneath his eyes. As her gaze dropped to his mouth, Callie realized it was set in a thin line against a lot of emotions he was trying to hold back.
She offered him a slight smile of welcome. “Nice to meet you, Lieutenant James. Just call me Callie.”
Wes nodded. He hitched a thumb across his shoulder. “Thanks for being here, Callie. Let’s go into this side room. I’ve got my engineers and blueprints set up in there. I’m going to need your help in understanding just what you can do for us.”
Despite the urgency of the situation, Wes found himself staring at Callie Evans. She was tiny, built like a bird. She was wearing the standard camouflage, desert-colored cammos, a cap over her short, sandy-colored hair. Her eyes were beautiful, large and intelligent looking. She didn’t miss much, Wes guessed as he created a path through the crowd and led her toward his makeshift office. Callie followed him, almost tripping on his heels. She was too small in this sea of men, he thought. A delicate flower among a bunch of tall redwood trees.
Once they got into the smaller room, Callie saw at least ten other officers standing around a huge square table covered with blueprint maps. Most were dressed in civilian clothes, and it was obvious they had gone out to party the night away—until the earthquake occurred. They all stopped talking when Wes reentered the room. He looked around to find her.
“I’m right behind you,” Callie assured him in an amused tone. She knew she was short and could easily get lost. He managed a slight smile as he looked down at her, his green eyes growing warm as they perused her. And then Callie saw them become stern and professional once again. For that brief moment, though, she’d felt the warmth flow straight to her heart, which pounded briefly in response. What was going on? A wild giddiness thrummed through Callie, catching her completely off guard.
“Good, Lieutenant. Stand over there,” he ordered, pointing to one end of the table.
Callie nodded a silent hello to the other officers, who gave her a deferential nod back. Everyone looked grim, and the stress was palpable in the room. Her gaze shifted to Wes James, the officer in charge. As he spread a roll of maps on the table with his large, square hands, she found herself liking him even more than when she’d seen him at the colonel’s side. There was a brisk efficiency to his motions; and she liked his low-key approach to this situation. He wasn’t a drama king like some of the officers she’d seen out in the main room. No, he was quiet, all-business, and had that eaglelike look in his eyes that told her he was capable of handling this assignment. And he was handsome with his oval face, strong chin, and full mouth. When she noticed the laughter lines at the corners of his eyes, she smiled to herself. Obviously he had a sense of humor, and that was good in her book.
After Wes went over the grid scheme for the L.A. basin, pinpointing the largest skyscrapers that had been destroyed according to earlier reports, he began handing out assignments. Callie was able to give him one handler and dog for each of the twenty-two grid areas. He seemed pleased with her efficiency and ideas. Finally, at the end of the process, he wrapped up one roll of blueprints and tucked it beneath his arm.
“Okay, Lieutenant Evans, I’m assigning you to me. We’re going to the Hoyt Hotel in southern Los Angeles. It’s a fourteen-story structure that, according to the best intel we have, has completely collapsed. It was built in the 1920s, long before earthquake codes were in place, so I know it’s going to be one helluva hot spot. According to the local fire department in that area, that hotel was filled to the gills with party goers. It was one of the ‘in’ spots.” He searched her wide, flawless eyes. Her pupils were large and black, her lashes thick and long. Despite her height, or lack of it, he liked the set of her square jaw and the confidence in her demeanor. “You think you can handle it?”
Callie grinned back, once again receiving that green-eyed warmth from him. “No question about it, Lieutenant James. My dog and I can handle anything you throw at us. We’re vets of Turkey, Greece, Colombia and Mexico. This isn’t going to be any worse than that.” Or maybe it was and Callie just didn’t want to believe it.
Satisfied, Wes gestured for her to step ahead of him. “Good enough, Callie. I’ve got a Humvee outside. I want you to ride over to your H.Q., grab your dog and meet me at the airport. We have a Huey at our disposal to take me and my crew—and you—to our assigned grid area. Make it back as fast as you can?”
Callie nodded. “Yes, sir, I will.”
Before she hurried out, she saw Wes give her a slight, tired smile, concern burning in his eyes. This was a man who cared deeply, and that made her feel glad to be working with him. The urgency to help the thousands of victims out there thrummed through both of them, as well as the rest of the officer corps. This was worse than a war: no shots had been fired, but the death toll was going to be horrific, Callie thought.
She moved briskly toward the door at the rear of the room. Her hands were shaking. Her heart was beating hard in her chest as she trotted down the concrete steps to a dark brown and tan desert-camouflaged Humvee that waited for her at the bottom. The sky was just beginning to turn a turgid gray color. Soon, dawn would come. And soon they would all see the devastation that this quake of the century had caused.
As she rode over in the Humvee, down an asphalt road that was buckled in some places, but still functional, she clasped her hands together. Her attention seesawed from details of her duty to thoughts of the green-eyed officer with the warm, caring smile. He treated her as if he liked her—a lot. That was nonsense, of course. She was no looker. She wasn’t pretty in any sense. Just a plain Jane. So why had he given her that look? Oh, Callie recognized it well. She’d seen men give it to women thousands of times before—but never to her. Rubbing her hot cheek, Callie wondered if she were dreaming. But with the quake and all, it felt more like she was in the middle of a very bad nightmare, with Wes in the role of the hero she’d always dreamed about meeting. Shaking her head, Callie decided her emotions were skewed because of the quake and the awful disaster that surrounded them. That was it: she was in mild shock and completely misreading him.
Still, as she disembarked at her unit’s H.Q. and ran toward the kennel to retrieve Dusty, Callie’s heart thumped hard in her chest—and it wasn’t from fear. No, it was in anticipation of working with Lieutenant Wes James. He liked her and she knew it. And she found that amazing.
Chapter Two