Free Dangerous Territory: An Alpha Ops novella by Emmy Curtis Page A

Instead he just asked, “Are you sure you’re fit to walk?”
    Grace reined in her disappointment and tried to ignore the trickle of coldness flickering at her heart. “I’m fine. Really. Could run a marathon.”
    He gave her a disbelieving look.
    “Okay, maybe not a marathon, exactly…”
    He laughed, and for some stupid reason, warmth flooded through her. As if making him laugh was the biggest turn-on. She had to keep a lid on this. She didn’t do this crap. No emotions. No connections. Because the alternative was Sarah. She never wanted her happiness and security so dependent on the well-being of someone else.
    Ever. She had to be strong.
    She wrapped those crazy stray feelings up in a ball and shut them in her storage locker back in D.C. There wasn’t much in there, just a bed and five boxes… and the box of feelings that she’d banished. Feelings about Sarah, Josh, Beth, and now effing Josh again. She was going to have to start a three-strikes-and-you’re-out rule. If she has to put away feelings for one person three times, she’ll strike them out of her life. Life was too damn short.
    She was just about to crack some breezy joke to defuse the weird tension between them when a shadow fell on them. Fear shot through her bones, making her cold all over, despite the layers of clothes she had on.
    Josh made a show of putting down his weapon and showing his hands. The man spoke, and Josh looked at her for translation. She ignored him, trying to concentrate on what he was saying. Stopping to translate would be horribly rude, especially since she was a woman.
    She nodded at him, hands out at her sides, to show she posed no threat. “He wants us to go with him,” she said.
    Josh completely surprised her by agreeing. The boy peeked out from behind the man’s kaffiyeh head covering and smiled.
    “
Teek de
,” she said.
It’s all right.
    The man took Josh’s rifle and slung it on his back with the older rifle that he already had. He then held his hand out for Josh’s sidearm. Josh’s fists clenched momentarily, but he handed it over.
    The man turned his back to them and started walking. Josh and Grace hesitated, looking at each other quizzically. Why in the world wouldn’t he keep them at gunpoint? She shrugged at him and followed in the man’s wake. Josh put himself between the man and her, for which she was grateful. She looked back to the kid and held out her hand. The boy grinned, took her hand, and skipped alongside her.
    He chatted to her all the way. His name was Atti, and he lived in a farming village nearby. Grace looked at Josh, but his face was inscrutable behind his sunglasses. She continued to talk to Atti about his family and soccer. He liked to play with the older boys in the village. He had a sister, Fallam, who was five. He talked nonstop, and mostly all she had to do was keep up with his train of thought.
    When they arrived at the village, three men came out to see what was happening. Atti ran to one and started talking at a hundred miles an hour. The first man nodded and turned Atti by his shoulders and pointed him in the direction of a beige-colored house that looked like it was made of a crude adobe. Atti pouted but left them and went inside.
    Grace wanted to find out as soon as possible whether they were friend or foe. Many Afghans had no part in the war and just tried to do the best they could with what little they had. She hoped these people were not warlords or Taliban. She suspected not, but appearances, especially in this part of the world, were deceptive.
    Josh carefully placed his body in front of hers, between Grace and the men, and she felt protected, even in a situation that was far out of their control. Protecting her seemed to be instinctive to him.
Shake it off, cupcake.
He was just a man of duty. And she was just a duty to him right now.
    “De zama merra de; ze da de tarjumaan yam. Kawalai shi chi or moonzh sara kor ta rasaido ke kumak ookrrai?”
She held her hand out to