It was one of the best perks of being a Medusa. She loved knowing the dirt that few besides her all-female Special Forces team had access to. But then, she always had been a poli-sci geek. Even at West Point, she’d reveled in getting into political debates with her classmates and instructors.
Her cell phone rang and she picked it up. Her next-door neighbor was calling. Susan and her six-year-old son, Jack, had welcomed her warmly to the neighborhood when she bought this place a few months back.
Piper had a particular fondness for the little boy, and he for her. Jack was a cool kid—funny, curious and smart as heck.
“Hi, Sus. What’s up?”
“Hey, Piper. I’m stuck at the hospital. My day replacement called in sick at the last minute, and they can’t find a nurse to sub in. I’m stuck in the ICU pulling a double shift. But my babysitter can’t stay late this morning. Is there any chance you could run Jack over to his school on your way to work?”
“When does he need to be there?”
“Eight fifteen.”
The Medusas had training at nine, but it was only about a twenty-minute drive from the town of Houma, Louisiana, to their classified facility, Training Site Vanessa, usually referred to as the TSV. It was tucked next to the Mandalay National Wildlife Refuge, deep in the bayous of southern Louisiana.
“Yeah, sure. I can drop him off on my way to work. Will he be ready to go around eight?”
“He should be. Rosie feeds him breakfast, gets him dressed and packs his lunch. I really am sorry about the last-minute notice. You’re an angel. I owe you one.”
Piper laughed, “I’m hardly an angel.”
“Shrimp étouffée? My place, this weekend?” Susan offered.
“Deal. I’ll bring the wine.”
Piper dressed in jeans and a casual white oxford shirt, befitting her cover story of being a civilian historian researching pirate activity in this part of southern Louisiana.
She stuffed the daily intel brief into her backpack, along with her pistol, some basic survival gear she felt naked without and a uniform for running around in the woods with the Medusas. Vietnamese Special Forces instructors were in town this week teaching her and her teammates advanced jungle camouflage and ambush tactics—key skills for Special Forces operators like the Medusas.
Piper backed her little sports car out of the garage and pulled into the driveway next door. Susie’s salmon pink front door opened and Jack darted out, all restless energy. Piper pushed the passenger door open for him and waved at Rosie, the babysitter, who followed him out the door at a more sedate pace, locking it behind her.
“Thanks for taking Jack to school!” Rosie called. “I have a doctor’s appointment today in New Orleans, and I’m gonna be late as it is.”
“No problem!” Piper called back. As Jack tumbled into the car beside her, she admonished, “Buckle your seat belt, squirt.”
A bolt of envy for Susan and regret for opportunities lost shot through Piper’s gut at the sight of Jack. Longing for a child tugged at her—longing for a family of her own. She’d have thought she would be over the sense of hollow emptiness for the children she would never have by now, given the career she’d picked. But it turned out biological clocks were powerful little bastards.
It had been a trade-off, and she’d made her choice. She had arguably one of the coolest jobs on the planet. But the sacrifice in return was no time for a private life.
In point of technical fact, she supposed a personal life was possible. But that would entail finding a man who didn’t mind his partner being a lethally trained special operator, prone to running off at a moment’s notice to who knew where to face who knew what danger.
The only man besides her boss who even knew the Medusas existed at this point was Captain Beau Lambert, the Medusas’ operations officer. And her teammate, Tessa Wilkes, had that man locked down tight. The two of them were engaged and had set a wedding date next year. They made a great couple. Goo-goo eyes flew thick and fast whenever they were in the same room.
But that left her without any eligible prospects in the love department.
“I like riding in your car, Miss Piper.”
“Why’s that?”
“’Cuz your car doesn’t have a back seat, and I get to sit in front.”
“When you get bigger, your mom will let you sit in front with her.”
“That’s what she says. I’m eatin’ as much as I can so I’ll get big really fast.”
“Patience, grasshopper. You’ll be all grown-up before you know it. Enjoy being a kid while you can.”
“Don’t you like being a grown-up?”
“I do most of the time. But it’s a lot easier being a kid. And more fun.”
“My mama says you have a super boring job.”
Piper mentally snorted. If Susan only knew the truth. The poor woman would run screaming from Piper. She smiled serenely. “I like my job.”
“Lucky dog. I hate school. I suck at it.”
“You do not. I happen to know you rock at all your subjects.”
“School’s boring.”
“Maybe you’re just too smart for the first grade.”
“Mama says I’m smarter than my teacher.”
Piper laughed, “I can believe it.”
They pulled up in front of Southdown Elementary School, a dark redbrick building that Piper privately thought looked more like a prison than a school. As Jack jumped out, she called after him, “Have a good day. And behave yourself!”
He flashed her an impudent grin and dashed inside.
She made it nearly halfway to the TSV before she happened to glance down and spied a brown paper bag on the floor of the passenger side of the car.
Rats. Jack had forgotten his lunch.
If she hit the stoplights exactly right, she had just enough time to zip back to his school, run his lunch inside and make it to the training site on time. The Medusas’ commanding officer, Major Gunnar Torsten, had no sense of humor whatsoever when it came to tardiness.
Classes had started by the time she got back to the elementary school, and the drop-off area was deserted. Parking quickly, she grabbed Jack’s lunch and hurried inside. To the left of the front door was a large glassed-in office that looked like a reception area lined with institutional, Formica-topped desks. Several women sat at them. A little girl who looked about eight years old stood beside one, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
Piper stepped inside. “Is this where I drop off a lunch a student has forgotten?”
“Yes, ma’am. Just a minute.” The gray-haired woman who answered her went back to talking with the child. “Your mom says she’ll be here in ten minutes with your inhaler—” The woman broke off, staring at something behind Piper.
A flurry of movement in the hallway outside caught Piper’s attention out the corner of her eye. Something—someone—adult-sized had just run past.
Was there a problem?
As she turned to take a better look, a man dressed all in black with a black ski mask over his face burst into the office. Piper flipped into combat mode in a millisecond, her senses going on high alert and adrenaline rushing to all her muscles.
She noted several