Power (Special Tactical Units Division 1)

They made lunch, and had it in front of the living room fireplace. Bowls of tomato soup from a can. Macaroni and cheese. It came from a box, but Alessandra found little canisters of spices in the pantry and turned the old standard into a masterpiece.

That was what Tanner called it, anyway.

“A masterpiece,” he said, scraping the last bit of mac from his bowl. “Where were you while I was in college, existing on packages of ramen noodles?”

She laughed.

“I was probably a few years behind you, existing on those same noodles.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” She brought the spoon to her lips and sucked the cheese from it. “To save money, same as you.”

“Your father didn’t pay for your education? But he earns a general’s pay. And that big ranch in Texas…”

“El Sueño. Well, we didn’t know that. He did offer to help with costs, but I didn’t want his help. None of us did. We already knew something was strange about his relationship with our mother. We didn’t want much to do with him by then.” She worked the spoon around the bowl, lifted it to her mouth and sucked off the last of the cheese. “What?” she said, when she saw the expression on Tanner’s face.

“Nothing. Everything. I’m just thinking what a dumb, self-important SOB your old man is…” He grabbed for Alessandra. She dropped both the bowl and spoon, squealed, and absolutely made no real effort to get away as he tumbled her beneath him before the fire. “I’m also thinking that if you don’t stop sucking on that spoon, I’m gonna show you that you’d have a lot better time with me than with a cold piece of stainless—”

Bzzz.

Tanner froze.

Bzzz.

“Sorry, baby. The satphone…” He sat up and reached for the phone which he’d left on a table beside the couch. “Chay?”

“Akecheta.”

Chay’s voice was crisp. This was business coming up and Tanner knew it.

“Talk to me,” he said, rising to his feet.

Chay talked while Tanner paced.

“The eye of the storm will be over you in an hour. Blake’s sending in a couple of choppers to get you and the woman out.”

“Fine for me, but for her… It’s night. Dark.”

“No choice. Bandits on the move, dude. Two dozen, maybe more. Heading for you. ETA ninety minutes, maybe less.”

“Crap. Bright Star?”

“Affirmative.”

“What’s happening?” Alessandra asked softly.

She had come up beside him, her face turned up to his, her eyes filled with concern. Tanner put his arm around her and drew her tightly against him.

“Timeline’s gonna be close,” he told Chay.

“No question. Also no choice. You won’t have enough firepower or manpower to stop them.”

It was true. Tanner knew it. He also knew the risks of running such a tight operation. If the guerrillas somehow got there at the same time as the rescue helicopters…

“I’ll let you know when the Hueys are a couple of miles out, but you’ll hear them comin’ in. The landing zone is that sea of grass between the mangrove swamp and the house. Got it?”

“Got it.” Tanner cleared his throat. “Olivieri? Tell the chopper guys—tell them to be careful with her. Tell them—”