Damnation Code (William Massa) - William Massa Page 0,4
of military service had taught Talon to be a minimalist and restrict his luggage to one carry-on bag, and he was able to bypass the crowds.
He stepped through the automatic doors and reached the adjoining sidewalk. The air outside was hot and thick but felt like a fresh breeze compared to Afghanistan’s arid, blistering desert temperatures.
It’s good to be back in the States.
Talon scanned the cabstand and decided to skip the long line. The train station was only a short walk from the United Airlines terminal.
Soon he was seated on the BART as it rattled toward San Francisco. The airport receded in the distance and residential sprawl took over.
Once again his mind turned to Michelle. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Those mysterious brown eyes flecked with green. That lush auburn hair and perfect olive complexion. The delicate line of her neck.
There was no way around it — Talon had fallen hard for the journalist. Despite his initial misgiving about her presence with the unit, he’d quickly realized that Michelle wasn’t what he expected.
With her looks and brains she could’ve pursued any number of glamorous careers, but she chose to risk her life in the mountains with him and his men. When he brought this up to her, Michelle merely smiled wearily and said that certain stories needed to be told, and certain voices needed to be heard.
Michelle remained embedded for six more days after the ambush and she proved to have a transformative effect on Talon. He’d mastered the art of disconnecting from the violence and misery that he encountered on a daily basis. Michelle, on the other hand, allowed herself to emotionally respond to the horrors unfolding around her. Her ability to show vulnerability had pierced Talon’s iron guard and reminded him that there was a human heart beating under his own armor.
It was okay to feel.
To give a damn.
In fact, it was necessary, if he didn’t want to end up in the psych ward of some V.A. hospital down the line. He didn’t need to sacrifice his humanity and become a machine to be an effective warrior.
While they bonded during her time with the unit, most likely their relationship wouldn’t have gone further. But fate seemed to smile upon them. Their paths crossed again in Dubai, when Talon was catching up on some much-needed R&R. Sparks flew and the rest was history.
Two years later, they now saw each other as often as their demanding careers permitted.
Talon had dated his fair share of women over the years, but the nature of his grueling work made it difficult for him to get serious with anyone. He could be activated at a moment’s notice and wind up halfway across the globe, in some warzone.
It took a certain kind of woman to put up with the reality of his profession.
A woman like Michelle Rossi.
He touched the ring case in his pocket and took a deep breath. Michelle didn’t know he was coming to San Francisco for a surprise visit, let alone that he was here to propose.
Talon wasn’t a man prone to nervousness. A decade in the military — five years in the regular Army and then another five in Special Forces — had imbued him with steely discipline and control over his emotions. Danger actually sharpened his focus. Jumping out of airplanes, crossing minefields or battling terrorists was all in a day’s work. Proposing to his girlfriend; now there was something that made him work up a nervous sweat.
The train pulled into the city. Talon got off at the next stop and headed for the offices of the San Francisco Chronicle. He spotted a flower shop on the way and decided to pick up a bouquet for his sweetheart. No way he’d show up at his girl’s office empty-handed.
Once inside the store, Talon concluded within seconds that the owner was Persian. Based on his age, the man was probably a refugee from the Iranian Revolution who had come to the States in the ‘70s.
Talon addressed the man in near-perfect Farsi. “I need flowers for the love of my life. Can you help me out? I barely know the difference between a rose and a tulip.”
The florist beamed, charmed by Talon’s ability to speak to him in his native language. In lightly accented English, he said, “My friend, I’ll make something real nice for you and your sweetheart.”
With a magician’s skill, the Persian went to work. Talon followed the man’s quick-moving fingers as they snatched flowers from an assortment of vases.