Talon: Combat Tracking Team (A Breed Apart) Read Online Free

hard features.
    “A little blood.” She breathed heavily through her nose. “A dog tag with no evidence of a fight or scratches, and a dog with minor injuries.” Her gaze automatically slid to the Lab, who pulled himself out from under the bench and lumbered her way, head down. She smoothed a hand over his head as he sat between her feet. “It doesn’t make sense.”
    “I understand, my angel, but…”
    “There’s no more ‘but,’ Amadore. Uncle Sam sealed the note.” She climbed to her feet, the weight of the letter she’d opened today pushing against her.
    He touched her arm. “Be careful.”
    She scowled.
    “This thing you are planning, I see it in your eyes,” he said as he rose and stood over her. “Be careful. Your father would kill me if I let something happen to you. Know what I mean?”
    Her heart skipped a beat. How did he know? She opened her mouth to deny it, to deny she would go after Austin.
    His laugh cut her off. “No, Angel. I know you better than you know yourself. There is a plan in that beautiful head of yours.” The smile remained in place. “Which is why I stopped your session with Mario. That head wasn’t in the ring. It was at home, still mourning his birthday.”
    Aspen tucked her chin. “He’s all I’ve got left,
Nonno
.” She drew up her shoulders. “I’m not going to let the Marines relegate my brother to the grave without a fight.”

    Two    

Pentagon, Arlington County, Virginia
Two Days Later
    S ay it again.”
    Cardinal drew in a breath, tempering his frustration. “This isn’t my first rodeo, to borrow your phrase, sir.”
    “Good. Then this should be better than expected.” Undaunted, General Lance Burnett, the deputy director of Defense Counter-intelligence and HUMINT Center, popped the top of his umpteenth Dr Pepper of the morning and slurped from the can. With a satisfied sigh, he set it down. “Begin.”
    Flexing his jaw, Cardinal gave a curt nod. Practice never hurt.
    Wasted time, but never hurt. “We’ll maintain my identity as Markoski.
    The interview—”
    “Sir,” Lieutenant Smith announced from the door. “We got Larabie on line 3.”
    Amusement twinkled in Burnett’s eyes. “Let’s hope you’re as ready as you say.”
    Cardinal resisted the urge to smirk. “Let the games begin.” He strode to the phone, lifted the handset, and pressed 3. “This is Dane Markoski.”
    “Ah, Mr. Markoski,” her voice sailed through the receivers—his and the general’s. Cardinal kept his gaze on the old man. “This is Brittain Larabie. You’d e-mailed me about—”
    “Please. Can we keep the details”—he added hesitation and concern to his voice to make this work. He’d never had a problem manipulating the media who manipulated the world. Great satisfaction could be gained from maneuvers like this— “Are you able to meet, Miss Larabie?”
    “Um…yes. Yes I can. I will have a cameraman with me. You understand, for my own safety, I won’t meet strangers alone.”
    “Alone, or not at all. I’m not trying to murder you, Miss Larabie. I want to tell the truth. I want to do what’s right.” That sounded all patriotic and gallant.
    “Of course. What time and where?”
    “Are you familiar with Reston ice-skating pavilion?”
    “That’s in Virginia.”
    “Correct.”
    “That’s a bit out of my way, Mr. Markusky.”
    “Markoski.” Why couldn’t Americans get that right? No doubt they’d butcher his real last name. “And if it’s an inconvenience, I can call—”
    “No, it’s fine. When shall we meet?”
    “The sooner the better. Tomorrow night?” Silence plagued the line, and Cardinal tried to ignore the general waving his hand in a circle. “I’m out of time, Miss Larabie.”
    “That’s fine. I had a dinner date, but I can reschedule.”
    “Eight o’clock.” Cardinal hung up and turned to the general. “Everything is in my medical and military history files?”
    “You’re not the only good operative I