Aimpoint by Candace Irving (best mystery novels of all time .TXT) 📗

Garrison had been tapped for Officer Candidate School, then Special Forces.

All told, Garrison had served in a number of hot spot around the globe, but it was his first tour as an SF officer in Afghanistan that had most likely brought him into Ertonç's orbit. From what she'd also read in the general's intel file, both Garrison and then-Colonel Ertonç had been operating in and around Kabul at the time.

Doing what, she would love to know.

Whatever they'd done had forged a seriously tight relationship between the men, especially on Ertonç's side. How else to explain the general's noticeable reluctance as Garrison extricated himself from their conversation? Stranger still, the final nod Ertonç offered Garrison had an odd, almost deferential dip to it.

From a general to a captain?

Her curiosity rose as Garrison headed for the podium at the front of the stage to test the microphone. Her body, however, lowered as she instinctively used the beefy shoulders of the soldier in front of her for added cover and concealment while she studied the captain's features. The overt assurance and easy confidence she'd noted in the bar and parking lot last night were muted as the man ran through the sound checks. Because he was on a stage in front of several hundred soldiers?

Or had that intriguing conversation with the general affected him too?

The admittedly all too brief moments she'd spent in Garrison's company had Regan leaning toward the latter. Until the captain stiffened. Stared. The man was instantly and unequivocally livid.

With her?

Simply because he'd spotted her here?

Lord, she hoped not. Though he was twenty feet away, she'd definitely felt that spike of ire. If it was directed at her, she'd not only lost a dinner invite, there was no way Garrison would let her near his apartment, much less LaCroix's portion of it.

No. In the tense, motionless moments that followed, she became certain that cold stare wasn't focused on her, but someone just off her right. A row or two behind her.

Who?

Dare she risk turning far enough around to find out?

Regan forced herself to wait. To watch.

To study.

Garrison's outward demeanor calmed more quickly than she'd have thought possible as the man absorbed the brunt of his anger. It was still there, though. Seething, just beneath the surface. But a second later, it was gone. Another, and the captain had turned to cede the podium to an approaching US Army colonel.

"Good afternoon, Soldiers."

As the colonel launched into his introduction and brief overview of General Ertonç's career with the Turkish Land Forces, Regan finally risked turning her head, then her torso, just far enough to the right to identify—

LaCroix?

It was him all right. The sergeant was precisely where she'd anticipated. But not—from that look on the captain's face earlier—where Garrison had assumed the sergeant would be. Even more fascinating were the vestiges of fury she could see in LaCroix's still-hardened features. The sergeant was equally livid…with Garrison.

Why?

Fortunately, LaCroix was so consumed with his anger, he didn't appear to be paying attention to the crowd around him, including her.

She was invisible to him. For now.

Intent on remaining so, Regan carefully eased her torso toward the stage, hoping to catch another glimpse of the captain's expression, but she was too late. All she caught was the blur of those intimidating shoulders as they disappeared though the curtains at stage right. Moments later, she was joining the audience as they all stood, clapping to welcome General Ertonç to the podium.

The mass movement allowed her to catch to Mira's eye and receive a subtle nod in return. Mira had caught the fiery exchange between the captain and sergeant as well, and was just as intrigued.

Fortunately, her NCIS colleague was able to remain on her feet as Regan and the audience resumed their seats. By the time Ertonç had begun his opening remarks, Special Agent Ellis had shifted her position, smoothly posting herself just past LaCroix's row where she began to quietly mark time.

Just in case.

Regan forced herself to lean back. To relax and listen.

The longer she accomplished the latter, the more bemused she became. Aytaç Ertonç had an excellent command of English. So why was he using it to deliver a speech that was so bafflingly generic?

As the minutes passed, Regan couldn't help shifting in her seat, along with half the general's custom-made audience.

Like most everyone there, she'd suffered though countless mandatory doozies in her career. She also recognized a canned number when she heard it.

But this one? Other than a scant reference or two regarding the need for NATO armies to work together, there was just…nothing. No substance. Certainly, no detail. The general hadn't even tried to tailor his speech to this crowd.

What was Ertonç really doing in Hohenfels?

Because this was not it.

Before Regan knew it—before they all knew it—everyone in the audience was jackknifing back up to the soles of their boots, clapping respectfully as the general nodded once, then turned to depart the stage.

Just like that, the event was over.

Unfortunately, Terry Vaughn hadn't been able to secure her an invite to the one that followed. The meet-and-greet.

She had half a mind to risk Terry's ire, and possibly Garrison's, by crashing it anyway, when she noticed that LaCroix didn't appear to be on the select list of invitees headed toward the front of the stage either, because he was leaving. She turned to follow the sergeant out of the auditorium. If she could catch up with him, "accidentally" bump into him, she just might be able to—

Damn.

He'd disappeared into the drifting and shifting cloud of camouflage.

Where had he—

Yes. Regan caught sight of the sergeant's stiff spine and icy stride as she cleared the double doors she'd used to gain entrance to the auditorium not more than fifteen minutes earlier. Ten more steps and she'd be coming up alongside him as he departed the lobby.

Halfway into her impromptu quest, a hand locked around her right elbow, tugging her to a swift and sudden stop.

She spun around to confront its owner, only to snap her mouth shut