Page 2 of Operation Rescue
Quinn chuckled. “What makes you think I have any say in what that dog does? He decides, and he’s decided he’s with you.”
Rafe’s smile became a momentary grin. “I guess he has.”
“Now,” Quinn said briskly, “I assume time is of the essence?”
Rafe nodded. “There’s…a kid involved.”
Quinn drew up slightly, and felt Hayley tense beside him. But he merely said, “All right. Load up what you need while I call the airport and have them ready Wilbur.”
Rafe blinked when he heard the nickname for Quinn’s beloved Piper Mirage turboprop plane. “I…you don’t have to fly me. I was going to drive. I’d appreciate bunking at Foxworth Southwest, though—” he glanced at Hayley “—if your brother’s not using the accommodation at the moment.”
“Last I heard they were on a case over in Arizona, but I’ll call him right now to confirm.”
“And do what I said,” Quinn added mildly. “I haven’t had a chance to take Wilbur for a long flight in a while. I’m feeling deprived. A nice thousand-plus-mile run will be fun. And then I might just hop on over to Arizona to see how the research is going there.”
“Only you,” Rafe muttered, but Quinn could see he was a little relieved.
“I assume you’ve already called and told Charlie?” Hayley asked. At the moment Quinn’s sister was back in St. Louis, packing up the last of the things she wanted to bring here from her old base at Foxworth headquarters.
“I did,” Rafe said, in the rueful manner of a man who had finally learned the price of not performing such niceties. He was studying his boot tips when he added hesitantly, “She said she understood why it was a no-choice thing.” When he looked up he was smiling slightly. “She seems to think she owes him, too.”
“She’s coming right along,” Hayley said cheerfully. “I’ll make sure there’s a car ready for you down there, too. I’d like to go, but…”
“You’ve got a wedding to help plan,” Quinn said.
Rafe’s head came up sharply enough that Quinn drew back slightly. But Hayley grinned. “Gavin and Katie’s” she said, but then raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve got something to tell me?”
To Quinn’s amazement, the ever-unflappable, self-confessed emotionally impeded Rafe turned the slightest bit pink. Barely enough to notice, but one of the many, many things Quinn had learned from his beloved wife was how to read faces better.
“Don’t start,” Rafe said, his voice almost a growl.
“I won’t,” Hayley promised as she pulled out her phone to no doubt call Walker. Then she looked back at Rafe with a wide, loving smile that melted Quinn no matter who it was aimed at. “Yet,” she added pointedly.
“Let’s get going,” Quinn said, pulling out his own phone. “You’ve got a debt to pay.”
“More than one,” Rafe said softly, as the Foxworth Foundation once more rolled into action.
Chapter 2
Blaine Everett looked out the UC-35’s window as they taxied off the runway and began to slow to a halt. It felt strange, being here in Southern California again. He’d grown up in South Orange County, so the territory was familiar, yet so much had changed since he’d last been here he felt as if it was someplace he’d never been. But he was sure it would all come flooding back the first time he got stuck in a freeway traffic jam.
Erin had grown up here, too, and after she’d left him she’d come straight back. Not to the old neighborhood, it was too expensive now, but close enough. Back to build the life she’d wanted, a life without the man she’d married, the marriage he’d thought would last forever. After all, he’d loved her since he’d been old enough to understand what the word meant. As little kids they’d done mischief and punishments together. They’d made big plans and carried out little ones. They had grown into the proverbial girl/boy-next-door romance, except it was across the street. As adults, they’d finally cemented it all.
The entire neighborhood had turned out for their wedding.
He’d signed the divorce papers alone.
He’d had no choice. Because he loved her. He would always love her. And so he wanted her to be happy. Which to her meant she couldn’t be married to him anymore.
He leaned back in the comfortable seat, thinking he’d be sore and aching now if he’d gotten his usual ride on one of the big transports that would have him sitting on a hard bench with a sling around his shoulders for a seat belt. His body didn’t tolerate such things so well anymore. But so far things had gone surprisingly smoothly. He’d wrangled leave, managed to get his duties covered. And then he’d been able to hitch a ride on the usually VIP jet that was on its way to pick up some big shot—he hadn’t even wanted to know who—giving a speech in LA. It was stopping here at Camp Pendleton to refuel, which was the only reason he’d taken it, since he had no desire at all to set foot in what had at one time been a dream destination.
He’d been surprised when Rafe had texted that he’d pick him up here, at Pendleton. He’d expected to have to make his way to the address the former Marine had given him to meet up on his own. But he shouldn’t have been surprised, he realized now. No Marine base anywhere was going to turn down a request from the most famous Marine sniper since Carlos Hathcock himself, except maybe for Chuck Mawhinney.
But the biggest surprise came when he spotted Rafe Crawford on the tarmac with a dog at his heels. A dog who, although with more fur, reminded him of the military K-9s who were often passengers on his own flights. Or at least, they had been, when he’d been really on active duty, doing something more than just training his replacements. But that was then, and right now it seemed the Corps had decided it was time to slowly ease him out, given his reup enlistment was down to its last six months.
At least they’re not kicking you out the door like Erin did.
He shook his head at himself, then waved a final thank-you to the pilot as he passed the cockpit headed for the stairs that were already lowering.
