Free Talon: Combat Tracking Team (A Breed Apart) by Ronie Kendig Page B

that.”
    Bristling at the way Timbrel was practically telling her what to think about Dane, Aspen shrugged. “I like that he didn’t pamper me.”
    “Pamper is one thing. Pummel is another.”
    “Hogan.” Heath planted his hands on the table as he looked at everyone. “I made some calls today.”
    Silence dropped like a missile, flattening moods and conversations.
    “And?” Jibril sipped his tea.
    “I would’ve turned this over to Darci, but she’s out of the country right now. So I put in a call to General Burnett.”
    Aspen eased forward. “Wait…” Her mind ricocheted over this setup and who he referred to. “You mean the general from Afghanistan—Darci’s boss?”
    “Former. He’s a family friend of hers, so I have his home number.”
    “Why—I mean, why’d you call him?” Aspen tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. What wasn’t he telling her? “What did you find out?”
    “Nothing. Burnett, of course, said he couldn’t tell me anything if he did find something on the guy, but he said he’d look into it.”
    Aspen let out a shaky breath. “Oh.” She glanced around the table. “I thought you were going to tell me something bad.”
    “If this guy shows back up, I want to know he’s legit. Nobody’s going anywhere with him unless he’s been fully vetted.”
    “Wouldn’t that be Khat’s job?” Timbrel snickered.
    Heath stretched his jaw, clearly working to temper his frustration. “Look, something about this isn’t sitting right. He went on national television, then came here and talked a good number, then vanishes. I want this guy or his head.”
    Aspen sat a little straighter. “I really appreciate your protective nature, Heath.” Her courage rose to the surface. “But this isn’t really your decision. If he turns up again, going with him, searching for my brother is
my
decision.”
    “Whoa, chickie.” Timbrel plucked off her hat, brown hair tumbling free. “It’s your decision, but we’re a team. A family, ya know? You’re not alone, and this decision is a big one.”
    “She is right,” Khat said. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
    “But you aren’t going to go, Khaterah, if this happens.” Aspen turned to Heath. “Neither are you—wedding in just over a week, remember?”
    Timbrel propped her feet on the table and slumped back. “Well, you don’t have an excuse to shove me off the cliff of friendship, so don’t even try. If this thing happens, I’m stuck like glue to you.”
    “Why?” The question wasn’t meant to be confrontational, but Aspen had never seen Timbrel show that much interest in their affairs. “Why do you care so much?”
    “Because.” Timbrel narrowed her brown eyes. “I’m not letting him get the best of you.”
    “Get the best of me?” She tried to keep her words from pitching, but with the heat creeping into her face, it was a lost cause. “I am former Air Force—with the JAG. I am twenty-eight years old and perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
    “Oh, don’t I know it,” Timbrel said. “But two girls who can kick butt are better than one. And if this guy shows me it’s necessary, I will take him down. Blue eyes or not.”

Austin, Texas
    “You grounded me!”
    “You went dark. I had no guarantees you weren’t dead or under coercion.” A laugh erupted. “I still don’t.”
    “I gave you the nonduress code.”
    “Mm. So you did.”
    Cardinal bit down on the curse that lingered at the back of his throat. This wasn’t about Burnett thinking he’d been captured. This was about the general exerting his
influence
. About the general putting Cardinal’s wings to the flame. Or trying to clip them and force him to be his own personal carrier pigeon.
    He turned and strode to the window overlooking downtown Austin. Hand on the cold pane of glass, he steadied himself—memories, virulent and agitated, coiled around his mind. Shoved him back. Away from the glass. Away from the drop. Away from the