Rogue Soldier Read Free Page A

tent and one knife between them for a two-week survival exercise. Which was exactly what Mike wanted her to remember.
    â€œI haven’t thought about Special Forces in ages,” she lied.
    â€œI thought about you every day,” he said in a quiet voice.
    Damn it. Why did he have to be like that?
    His uncanny ability to unsettle her without half trying drove her mad.
    â€œRemember how it used to be?”
    Right. Sex. That’s what he was all about. “Not really,” she lied again, hating that she had to. It should have been true. She should have forgotten it, him, long ago. There had been other men in her life, in her bed, whom she did barely remember, but she still recalled Mike’s touch with sharp clarity.
    No way were they going to discuss sex. “They won’t all come after us. Maybe two. At least one will stay with the other three crates at the research vehicle. They’ll be faster than us. It won’t take them much to fix the other sled. We’ll be slowed by the weight of the crate we got.”
    â€œHow long do the dogs need to rest?”
    They’d done a brief stint of Arctic training, but it hadn’t involved dogs. In that, at least, he would haveto defer to her. “An hour would be fine, we haven’t come that far, but we can’t go out there until visibility improves. I don’t want to run them onto sharp ice or into a ravine or a creek.”
    She fell silent for a moment. “I hate leaving the other team behind.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you bring them?”
    â€œWe’ll be lucky if we can feed the ones we’ve got. The rest are better off at the trailer. It’s stocked for them.”
    â€œMakes sense.” He looked up as the wind shook their cover. “Did I mention I spent last winter in Siberia?”
    â€œDoing what? The Russian Army has exchange students now?”
    â€œNot exactly.”
    Damn him. He’d been on some secret mission. She should have been going on secret missions instead of stuck in research for the past eight months. She hoped he had frozen his ass off. No, no, she wasn’t going to think about him in terms of body parts. That would take her down the slippery slope as fast as an avalanche.
    â€œWe have a good sled and good dogs,” he said. “We’re dressed for the weather. While we’re trapped here, we can get some rest, inventory our resources and figure out a plan.”
    Not bad. He had gotten in all three points under “eliminating fear and increasing your chances for survival” within two minutes flat: have confidence in your superior—which he apparently considered himself—have confidence in your equipment, focus on the task at hand. Captain Tchaikovsky would have been proud.
    â€œWe have the dogs, the sled, the furs and some extra wood.” She rapped on the crate. “Two good rifles.”
    â€œA good knife, waterproof matches and a small survivor kit,” he added.
    She went through the pockets of the parka she’d taken. Her left hand came out with a bottle, the right with a cell phone. “Check this out.” She handed them to him, pulling back too fast when their fingers touched.
    â€œWell now, what’s the challenge in this? We’re as good as out of here.” The bottle cap squeaked as he unscrewed it, the air immediately filling with the smell of cheap booze.
    â€œYou still go out with the boys?”
    â€œI lost touch for the most part. I’m not in the army anymore.” He screwed the cap back on.
    She’d figured that from his comment about Siberia. As friendly as things were between the U.S. and Russia now, they weren’t doing sleepovers just yet. “CIA?” He used to talk about giving that a try back in the old days.
    â€œFor a while.”
    â€œAnd now?”
    â€œNow I’m here.”
    Fine. “Are you going to make that call?”
    He was some kind of special commando, while