While Chase and his men routinely provided protection details for VIPs and dignitaries during their visits to Afghanistan, they had never been asked to act as bodyguards to celebrities. The USO had its own contracted security personnel for that purpose.
“The USO staff is stretched thin with the other entertainers who are coming over. Besides, she’s not here on a USO ticket,” the colonel added. “She’s here on her own dime to make nice with the troops and, as I understand it, try to repair the damage she did at a recent concert when she publicly lambasted the U.S. military.”
“Christ, leave it to the celebrities,” Chase said in disgust. He pulled out a news article that provided the details of Tenley Miles’s anti-military rant. He gave a disbelieving huff of laughter as he quickly read the column. “I think I’d rather take my chances with the Taliban.”
“Are you telling me you can’t handle one girl?” The colonel arched an eyebrow.
“That depends,” Chase said absently, thumbing through the remaining documents. “Is water-boarding still allowed?” Picking up a black-and-white photo, he studied it for a moment before turning it toward the other man. “Who is this?”
“Her personal assistant.”
There was some writing on the back of the photo. “Katherine Fitzgerald,” Chase read aloud. “Publicist.” He gave a snort of disgust. “Great. Tell me I don’t have to babysit her as well.”
Turning the photo over, he studied the woman again and something fisted low in his gut. She was slender and her face boasted beautiful bone structure, although her baggy cargo pants and cardigan sweater effectively hid any curves she might have. Her hair was an indeterminate color and style, having been pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, and Chase let his gaze linger for a moment on her full lips and the determined set of her chin.
“Actually,” the colonel said, “her flight lands in about two hours and I’d like you to be there to meet her and get her settled.”
Chase frowned. The last thing he wanted to do was pander to some entitled celebrity and her publicist. “I thought you said she wasn’t coming for another three days.”
“Tenley Miles won’t be here for another three days,” the Colonel clarified. “Her publicist arrives today to scope things out. So … you have three days to tour three of our bases—Bagram, Camp Leatherneck and Kandahar, where you’ll rendezvous with the entertainers upon their arrival.”
Chase frowned. “Is that typical protocol for these kinds of events? To send a publicist or personal assistant—or whatever the hell she calls herself—over early to scope things out?”
“I guess that depends on the star power of the celebrity,” Colonel Decker said wryly. “And I’m not into the country-pop scene, but my understanding is that Tenley Miles is a very big deal.”
“So if the USO has run out of room, where am I supposed to put her?”
“I’ll leave that up to you. But keep in mind that how well you perform this assignment will determine how quickly I allow you to return to the field with the rest of your team.”
In other words, if he couldn’t handle these two women, there was no way he’d be allowed to oversee a covert Special Ops team.
“Just so that I’m clear,” he said carefully, “I have complete responsibility for this woman while she’s here, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“And if she’s not happy with the, uh, accommodations?”
“Then she goes home. Same thing for the singer. I won’t compromise their safety or the safety of the troops, so if either of them is unable to follow your rules, Major, then they’re on the next flight out. But you won’t let that happen. They will follow your rules, do we understand each other?”
Chase read the unspoken message loud and clear. If the women ended up leaving early, it would only be because he had failed in his assignment. And if that happened, he could expect to spend the remainder of his deployment chained to a desk somewhere. He considered the factors involved in the first phase of his assignment: one woman, three bases, three days. No problem. He hadn’t failed a mission yet, and he wasn’t about to start now.
KATE DECIDED THAT planning a trip to Afghanistan was a little like planning a trip to the moon. She had no idea what to expect and, therefore, little idea what to bring. In the end, she’d packed lightweight, practical clothing. She still believed that allowing Tenley to visit the troops in Afghanistan was the right thing to do, although seeing all the uniformed soldiers on the last leg of her trip had admittedly given her pause. They’d both be lucky if they didn’t get themselves killed, and after Tenley’s public meltdown, Kate thought they were probably in as much danger from the troops as they were from terrorists.
She had known it would take a long time to reach her destination, but she’d been unprepared for just how exhausted she’d be when she finally reached Bagram Airfield, more than forty-eight hours after leaving Nashville. Additionally, since she had been forced to make her own travel arrangements, there hadn’t been anyone to meet her at each location and direct her where to go next. At least when she traveled with Tenley, they had Russell to lean on. But after assuring Kate that she’d do splendidly on her own, he’d left her at the airport. Even Tenley hadn’t been overly interested in any of the travel plans, although she’d perked up a bit when Kate had told her they would be going to Afghanistan. But after breaking the news that there would be absolutely no likelihood of seeing her young soldier, Tenley had retreated to her bedroom in tears, preferring to be alone until she received word from Kate that she’d okayed the security setup and Tenley could fly over. For the first time Kate could recall, she was traveling completely alone.
She’d arrived in Kuwait the previous afternoon and had waited nearly fourteen hours for a military flight to Bagram Airfield. Now she watched as the base came into view on the ground below. From a distance, the place looked enormous, but for as far as she could see there were only unrelenting shades of brown, from the desert to the distant mountains, and even the base itself. Opening her shoulder bag, Kate looked again at the information that the Army Morale, Welfare and Recreation department had sent to her.
Over the course of a week, Tenley would perform concerts at three different American bases in Afghanistan, as well as conduct meet-and-greet sessions with the troops. The USO had assured Kate that someone would meet her upon her arrival, and escort her to each location. Kate had spent most of the flight writing Tenley’s speech, in which her sister apologized for her thoughtless rant and pledged her support for the men and women in uniform. Kate only hoped it would be enough.
The big jet touched down on the airstrip at Bagram Airfield, and Kate was surprised to see they would disembark directly onto the tarmac. Peering out the window of the plane, she couldn’t see any building that looked remotely like an airport terminal. The airfield seemed to be nothing more than an enormous airstrip alongside a cluster of tents and makeshift hangars, and a hodgepodge of other small buildings. Maybe this wasn’t the airfield at all. Maybe the plane was making an unscheduled stop at some remote base and then they would head on to Bagram.
The aisle of the plane was quickly filling with uniformed soldiers waiting to disembark. Leaning forward, Kate tugged on the sleeve of the nearest man. He turned and looked at her expectantly.
“Excuse me, but is this Bagram Field?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you sure? I mean, have you been here before?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he assured her. “This is my third deployment.”
“Oh. Well, where exactly is the terminal? I mean, where do I pick up my luggage?”
Ducking