Red Zone (Red Zone 1)

He gave his fellow soldier a deadly look before he strode back toward the main cave. Friday pulled the sheet up tight around her and clutched the clothes she’d been given to her chest. She felt like a bug under a microscope as Sandi continued to stare, and it annoyed the life out of her. Who cared if she’d made a deal with the team’s boss, one that gave him rights to her? It didn’t mean she was less of a person. She lifted her chin and stared Sandi in the eye.

“Do you have something you want to say to me?”

Amusement flickered in the woman’s gaze. “Yeah.” Sandi closed the distance between them. With the heels on her leather boots she was almost a head taller than Friday. She came to a halt just inside Friday’s personal space and folded her arms. “I want to know if it’s true.”

“Want to know if what’s true?” She would not cringe if the woman asked if she’d sold her body to Striker for a chance at survival. She’d done the right thing. The only thing she could have done. She was proud that she’d had the courage to make the decision, and she wouldn’t let someone take that from her.

Sandi cocked her head. “Did you dive into the mist to save the boss?”

It was the last question she’d expected. “Yes.” She didn’t see the point of lying. It wasn’t a secret.

Sandi nodded. “You got courage.” She turned toward the interior of the caves. “Come on,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ve got some pants you can wear that are closer to your size. But you’d better wear Striker’s tee. I don’t think he wants to see you in anyone else’s clothes right now. The boss is a little possessive.”

Friday trotted after the Amazon. “Is he like that with everything he owns, or is it just me?”

“Oh, you’re different, sugar. There’s no denying it. You’re something none of us were expecting.”

Sandi led her into a smaller area that had been set up with shower heads. A heating system had been rigged up, and pipes led to the back of the cave, where she could hear running water.

“What am I?” she asked, unable to help herself. “What weren’t you expecting?”

“Hope.” Sandi turned on the water and stepped back. “We weren’t expecting hope. That’s what you are to Striker. You’re hope.”

For a minute it felt as though Sandi could see right through her, and she fought the urge to swallow hard or run. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ll get you those pants.” Sandi turned away, disinclined to clear the matter up. “Use any of the soaps you find. There are towels on the shelf. I’ll be back.”

With that, the woman disappeared into the caves.

Chapter Fifteen

After she showered, a barefoot Friday followed Sandi back into the main cave area. The smell of food hit her hard and her stomach growled in response. There were more people in the room now. Several men sat around a dining table, laughing and talking while they ate. Without exception, they were huge, muscled, and armed to the teeth.

The conversation died as she entered the cavern, and she found it hard not to shuffle in place. She wished she were dressed in her regulation jumpsuit. The jumpsuit was like armor; it deflected interest. Instead, she wore combat pants, rolled up to stop her tripping over them, and the soft cotton T-shirt that hung to her knees. She felt like a child in a room full of adults.

“Chère!” Striker’s voice had her head whipping around to see him come out of the training room. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

He gave her attire a look of approval before wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her toward the kitchen area. She recognized the man on kitchen duty—Mace, the guy who didn’t know how to work a scanner.

“I only make one thing,” he told her. “Chili. If you don’t like it, you go without.”

He picked up a bowl, ladled a steaming serving of chili into it, and handed it to her. He nodded his head toward the table against the wall. “Bread and utensils are over there.”

She looked down at the bowl then back up to the overgrown man. “Is this safe? Are you better at working a food unit than you are a scanner?”

Striker barked out a laugh as Mace narrowed his eyes at her. “Just because you threw yourself into the red to save the boss doesn’t mean I trust you. Or think you’re worth the hassle.”

“Now I really want to eat your food.”

“Come on.” Striker wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You need to eat. Don’t worry about Mace none; he don’t know a thing about poisons. The food is safe.”

“I’m completely reassured.”

That earned another chuckle. They grabbed forks and freshly baked bread from the table before Striker led her over to the dining area. He pulled out a seat in the middle of the table and gestured for her to sit. She kept her eyes on the food as she did so, and not on the half dozen men who were staring at her like she’d arrived from Mars. Striker sat beside her, poured a glass of ice water from the jug on the table

, and placed it in front of her.

“Keep up your fluids,” he ordered.