Breaking Rules (Delta Force Strong #2) - Elle James Page 0,6
every day they spend out here. It’s the least I can do to provide them with a little, much-needed entertainment for all the sacrifices they make.” She squared her shoulders. “I have a job to do. I’m not leaving until it’s done.”
Colonel Bratton stared hard at her for a long moment. “If you insist on staying, I insist on providing another level of security with someone who’s a little more familiar with the state of affairs here in Afghanistan.”
Sunny frowned. “I have four bodyguards. I don’t need another.”
The commander turned to the four men who were supposed to protect her and who’d failed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know you or your background. But I do know our Delta Forces team and trust them with my life, and I’d trust them with the lives of each member of my family.” He returned his attention to Sunny. “If you insist on staying to finish out your tour, I insist on assigning at least one of my Delta Force guys to stick to you like glue.”
Dash’s teammate raised a hand. “Sir, I’m Delta Force Operative Michael Calhoun. I go by the call sign, Blade. I’d like to volunteer for that assignment.”
Sunny shook her head, her hand reaching out to rest on Dash’s arm. “If you’re serious about assigning one of your men to provide my protection, I want to choose.”
The commander nodded. “As long as he’s Delta Force.”
Her hand tightened on Dash’s arm as she turned toward him. “You’re Delta Force, aren’t you?” she whispered to the man beside her.
He nodded and covered her hand with his. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Sir, I choose Sergeant Ryan Hayes for the task.”
His hand squeezed hers.
A knock sounded on the door. The man who’d identified himself as Blade opened the door a crack, poked his head out, spoke softly and then opened the door wider.
Another man in uniform with the same rank as the base commander entered and addressed Sunny first. “Miss Daye, I’m Colonel Gladson, in charge of Special Operations Forces here. Dash and Blade are part of my command.” He gave a nod to each of the men then turned his attention to the base commander. “Colonel Bratton, you are responsible for the safety of everyone on this installation; however, I’m in charge of my operatives. Any taskings for my men must go through me first.”
Colonel Bratton dipped his head. “Agreed. I need one of your men…” he jerked his head toward Dash, “this one, to provide additional protection to Miss Daye for the duration of her tour here in Afghanistan.”
“And my men have been tasked to find the source of the human trafficking ring in this province. I can’t spare a man to provide protection for one person, when there are many who will suffer in the meantime.”
“I’m sorry,” the base commander said. “But if Miss Daye insists on continuing her tour, she needs additional protection to ensure her safety. And based on what just happened inside my facility, the only people I really trust to handle her security are your men.” He lifted his chin in Dash’s direction. “Miss Daye would like to have Sergeant Hayes as her personal protection.”
“Colonel Gladson,” Dash jumped in, “have you considered the possibility of Miss Daye being just one more target to be acquired in the local human trafficking efforts?”
His commander’s brow furrowed. “I hadn’t thought about that.” The Special Operations commander cupped his chin, frowning heavily. “It could be.” His gaze met Sunny’s, his eyes narrowing. “She’d make big bucks for their operation.”
A shiver rippled down Sunny’s spine. She turned to Dash. “You think they wanted to capture me to sell?”
Dash’s jaw tightened. “We can’t be for sure, but there’s a huge problem in this province. Women and little girls are being rounded up and sold to the highest bidders.”
“If Miss Daye is a target of the trafficking ring,” the special ops commander said, “then yes, we need one of my men with her at all times.”
“Good,” the base commander said. “In the meantime, I need to perform a complete check of the perimeter to find the breach.” He nodded toward his MPs and marched for the door, stopping in front of Sunny. “By the way, the troops loved the concert. Thank you for coming.” Then he was gone, followed by the MPs.
As the last MP left, six men entered, all dressed like Dash and his teammate, Blade, wearing desert camouflage uniforms, bulletproof vests and a fine layer of dust.
The man in the lead scraped the helmet