Part 42 (1/2)

PROLOGUE.

Few people truly understood the meaning of 'h.e.l.l on earth.'

The five soldiers who had been held in the Taliban prison in southern Afghanistan, however, possessed an agonizingly intimate knowledge of the phrase.

There was nothing like five weeks of brutal torture to teach a man that there are worse things than death.

It should have broken them. Even the most hardened soldiers could shatter beneath the acute psychological and physical punishment. Instead the torment only honed their ruthless determination to escape their captors.

In the dark nights they pooled their individual resources.

Rafe Vargas, a covert ops specialist. Max Grayson, trained in forensics. Hauk Laurensen, a sniper who was an expert with weapons. Teagan Moore, a computer wizard. And Lucas St. Clair, the smooth-talking hostage negotiator.

Together they forged a bond that went beyond friends.h.i.+p. They were a family bound by the grim determination to survive.

CHAPTER ONE.

Friday nights in Houston meant crowded bars, loud music and ice-cold beer. It was a tradition that Rafe and his friends had quickly adapted to suit their own tastes when they moved to Texas five months ago.

After all, none of them were into the dance scene. They were too old for half-naked coeds and casual hookups. And none of them wanted to have to scream over pounding music to have a decent conversation.

Instead, they'd found The Saloon, a small, cozy bar with lots of polished wood, a jazz band that played softly in the background, and a handful of locals who knew better than to bother the other customers. Oh, and the finest tequila in the city.

They even had their own table that was reserved for them every Friday night.

Tucked in a back corner, it was shrouded in shadows and well away from the long bar that ran the length of one wall. A perfect spot to observe without being observed.

And best of all, situated so no one could sneak up from behind.

It might have been almost two years since they'd returned from the war, but none of them had forgotten. Lowering your guard, even for a second, could mean death.

Lesson. f.u.c.king. Learned.

Tonight, however, it was only Rafe and Hauk at the table, both of them sipping tequila and eating peanuts from a small bucket.

Lucas was still in Was.h.i.+ngton D.C., working his contacts to help drum up business for their new security business, ARES. Max had remained at their new offices, putting the final touches on his precious forensics lab, and Teagan was on his way to the bar after installing a computer system that would give Homeland Security a hemorrhage if they knew what he was doing.

Leaning back in his chair, Rafe intended to spend the night relaxing after a long week of ha.s.sling with the red tape and bulls.h.i.+t regulations that went into opening a new business, when he made the mistake of checking his messages.

”s.h.i.+t.”

He tossed his cellphone on the polished surface of the wooden table, a tangled ball of emotions lodged in the pit of his stomach.

Across the table Hauk sipped his tequila and studied Rafe with a lift of his brows.

At a glance, the two men couldn't be more different.

Rafe had dark hair that had grown long enough to touch the collar of his white b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt along with dark eyes that were lushly framed by long, black lashes. His skin remained tanned dark bronze despite the fact it was late September, and his body was honed with muscles that came from working on the small ranch he'd just purchased, not the gym.

Hauk, on the other hand, had inherited his Scandinavian father's pale blond hair that he kept cut short, and brilliant blue eyes that held a cunning intelligence. He had a narrow face with sculpted features that were usually set in a stern expression.

And it wasn't just their outward appearance that made them so different.

Rafe was hot tempered, pa.s.sionate and willing to trust his gut instincts.

Hauk was aloof, calculating, and mind-numbingly a.n.a.l. Not that Hauk would admit he was OCD. He preferred to call himself detail-oriented.

Which was exactly why he was a successful sniper. Rafe, on the other hand, had been trained in combat rescue. He was capable of making quick decisions, and ready to change strategies on the fly.

”Trouble?” Hauk demanded.

Rafe grimaced. ”The real estate agent left a message saying she has a buyer for my grandfather's house.”

Hauk looked predictably confused. Rafe had been b.i.t.c.hing about the need to get rid of his grandfather's house since the old man's death a year ago.

”Shouldn't that be good news?”

”It would be if I didn't have to travel to Newton to clean it out,” Rafe said.

”Aren't there people you can hire to pack up the s.h.i.+t and send it to you?”

”Not in the middle of f.u.c.king nowhere.”

Hauk's lips twisted into a humorless smile. ”I've been in the middle of f.u.c.king nowhere, amigo, and it ain't Kansas,” he said, the shadows from the past darkening his eyes.

”Newton's in Iowa, but I get your point,” Rafe conceded. He did his best to keep the memories in the past where they belonged. Most of the time he was successful. Other times the demons refused to be leashed. ”Okay, it's not the h.e.l.l hole we crawled out of, but the town might as well be living in another century. I'll have to go deal with my grandfather's belongings myself.”

Hauk reached to pour himself another shot of tequila from the bottle that had been waiting for them in the center of the table.

Like Rafe, he was dressed in an Oxford s.h.i.+rt, although his was blue instead of white, and he was wearing black dress pants instead of jeans.

”I know you think it's a pain, but it's probably for the best.”

Rafe glared at his friend. The last thing he wanted was to drive a thousand miles to pack up the belongings of a cantankerous old man who'd never forgiven Rafe's father for walking away from Iowa. ”Already trying to get rid of me?”

”h.e.l.l no. Of the five of us, you're the...”

”I'm afraid to ask,” Rafe muttered as Hauk hesitated.

”The glue,” he at last said.

Rafe gave a bark of laughter. He'd been called a lot of things over the years. Most of them unrepeatable. But glue was a new one. ”What the h.e.l.l does that mean?”

Hauk settled back in his seat. ”Lucas is the smooth-talker, Max is the heart, Teagan is the brains and I'm the organizer.” The older man shrugged. ”You're the one who holds us all together. ARES would never have happened without you.”