Once a Marine by Patty Campbell Read Free Book Online Page A

Let’s go in.” She stepped in front of Shari and tugged her ruined T-shirt. “Follow me to the bathroom. I’ll tell you. It’ll make your day. Made mine until about an hour ago.”
     
    * * *
     
     
    They lounged toe to toe in Shari’s oversize marble spa tub, up to their necks in bubbles. Surrounded by candlelight, they sipped ice-cold Pinot grigio. Just like in the movies. Except in the movies, the heroine would rush to the freezer, pull out a big tub of Ben and Jerry’s, and pig out on chocolate chip cookie dough. In the rag business you couldn’t pig out like that unless you didn’t mind running to the bathroom to stick your finger down your throat after. Yuck. There was more to life than looking like a glamorous praying mantis.
    “Some surfing lessons,” Shari said. “Sounds like you’re lucky to be alive.” She sighed. “But what a way to go, huh? I didn’t realize it until now, but I think I must still be a virgin.”
    BD chuckled. “I was one myself until this afternoon.” She took a swallow of wine and set the glass on the silver tray next to the tub. She held up her foot. “Am I a prune yet?”
    Shari held up her foot. “Almost. What about me?”
    BD pushed a small wave of bubbles toward Shari’s chin. “You are there.” She reached over with her toe and hit the drain lever. As the water in the tub lowered, hidden glass doors slid silently to surround the tub and shower heads appeared in the wall. Perfect temperature water rained down on them and rinsed off the bubble bath. Money had its rewards…whatever Shari said. If you were going to be miserable, might as well be rich and miserable.
     

Chapter Three
     
     
    The jet painted with the logo of a well-known air cargo carrier sped west across the Pacific. Rafael Cruz sat on the floor resting his back against his duffle in the near darkness. Another member of the team snored away across the broad cabin. Rafi would have to remember not to let the guy fall asleep if they were in the middle of their mission deep in the Philippine jungle. It would be a sure giveaway of their position.
    Joe Brosky strolled down the length of the nearly empty hull in Rafi’s direction. The few men were dressed in army-issue jungle warfare fatigues. Two guys in the open cockpit jawed endlessly. If they were expecting some relief in a couple of hours they should shut the hell up so Rafi could catch a few winks, like the braying donkey across from him.
    Joe hunkered down next to Rafi. They’d known each other half their lives, joined the Marines together, and carried out many missions during and after retirement. Now they worked for Silverstone, and Joe spearheaded this one. All Rafi had to do was follow orders and do his job.
    “Hey, Brosky, long time no see.”
    “Yeah, been a whole twenty-four hours.” Joe pointed to Rafi’s kit. “What’s that, a battle trophy?”
    Rafi twisted around to see what Joe was talking about. The strap of Bravo Delta’s hot pink bikini hung out the end of the bag’s zipper closure. Rafi chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you could call it that.” He pulled the top out, held it up, and felt a tug in his gut.
    Joe grinned. “No shit, man. Fill me in.”
    Rafi didn’t want to talk about it, not this time anyway. There was something about this time he didn’t care to share with the guys. “Nah. I found it at Kaneohe. Some girl must have lost it.” He shrugged, leaned back, and closed his eyes. Joe took the hint.
    Brosky had briefed the team, outlining the details of the mission, while still on the tarmac at Honolulu airport. Straightforward. Hostage rescue and extraction. Straightforward, that is, until Joe mentioned that the hostage was a district official from Mindanao who’d been kidnapped along with his wife and three young children.
    Abu Sayyaf guerrillas had kidnapped the local police chief and his family for ransom. Just to make sure the Philippine government knew they were serious they hacked off the head of the man’s