Flaw in the Defense, page 1
Flaw in the Defense
The Leonidas Corporation
Book Three
Tarina Deaton
Tarina Deaton LLC
Copyright © 2022 by Tarina Deaton
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editor: Jessica Snyder
Cover Design: Lori Jackson
Dear ‘Rona,
* * *
Eff you.
* * *
~The World
Contents
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Drink Recipes
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Tarina Deaton
Foreword
Dear Reader,
This book has been almost three years in the making. I had originally planned to release it in April 2020. Well, we all know what happened early 2020.
Personally, I had retired from the military, was homeschooling my kids, was hired into a new job and spent a few months training for that (virtually), and then moved back overseas. Needless to say, a lot was going on. Unfortunately, it all took precedence over writing.
But now it’s finally here. I hope you love Paige and Ash as much as I do.
Tarina
Prologue
Charleston Air Force Base, South Carolina - 2005
“Sergeant Davis. Line unsecure. May I help you?”
“Did you see it?”
Paige sighed. Carrie’s love for drama seeped over the phone with her breathy question. “Did I see what?”
“Lexi’s picture!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You have to see it!” Her excitement was palpable. “It’s on MySpace.”
“Carrie, I don’t have MySpace.”
“I don’t understand why you won’t get an account. Everyone has MySpace.”
“I have better things to do with my time. What’s the picture?”
“Hang on,” she said. “I’ll send you a screenshot.”
Paige switched over to her unclassified computer system and waited for Carrie’s email.
“Did you get it?”
An email notification popped up in her inbox. “Yeah. Hang on.”
She clicked on the email, then double-clicked on the picture. A woman’s left hand, adorned with a large, round solitaire diamond, appeared.
“What am I looking at?”
“He proposed!”
Paige wrenched the phone away from her ear. “Christ, Carrie. Quit screeching in my ear.” She tucked the phone back into the pocket of her shoulder and tilted her head to hold it in place. “Who proposed?”
“PJ. He proposed to Lexi!”
Paige’s breath left her in a whoosh. “What?”
“A day after she got out. Turns out they’ve been dating forever but hid it because he’s an officer.”
A deafening moment of silence, then her heart shattered into tiny, jagged pieces that burst outward before collapsing back in on themselves like a supernova. She’d known he’d been seeing someone else—had even asked him about it, but he’d said they were just friends and it wasn’t anything to worry about. Turned out she was the one not to worry about.
Carrie’s voice continued to drone over the phone as a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.
God. She’d been stupid. So fucking stupid. She’d known better. Told herself time and time again to break things off, not to fall for his excuses, not to fall in love with him, but she’d done it anyway.
So stupidly stupid.
Fuck that. No more. No more waiting. No more hoping. No more lying to herself. No more being someone’s doormat.
Paige swiped at the wet trail on her cheek. “Hey, Carrie. I need to go. I have a meeting in a few minutes.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Are we going out this weekend?”
“Sure. Give me a call later.”
“Okay. Bye,” Carrie said.
“Bye.”
Paige tossed the headset into the phone receiver, then pulled up the global address list in her email and found the number she needed. Snatching the phone up, she dialed.
It rang twice. “Force Management. Sergeant Johnson.”
“Sergeant Johnson, it’s Sergeant Davis.”
“Hey! What’s going on?” he asked.
“Is that assignment we talked about before still available?”
“Yes…”
She took a deep breath. “I’ll take it.”
“Wow. You sure?”
No. “Yes.” Yes. No turning back.
“What changed your mind?” he asked.
Paige closed her eyes. I’ll never escape him if I stay here, and this is the only way out. “I’ve been here almost four years. It’s time for a change of scenery.”
“Okay. I’ll put the paperwork in.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem. Good luck.”
Heat enveloped her like a clingy lover. Every pore in her body opened in an effort to cool her skin, which was covered in a sheen of sweat. It ran freely down her temples from under her helmet, between her breasts, and along the hollow of her back. Beneath her body armor, her uniform was soaked, and the slight bit of air wafting in from the gunner’s window did nothing to relieve her discomfort.
She was going to melt before she ever touched the ground. They’d have to medevac her in a mason jar.
She stared out the window as the helicopter circled the landing pad, the touchdown surprisingly gentle given the speed of their descent. The doors of the UH-60 Blackhawk slid open, and she released the harness holding her in place. Hopping down, she took a deep breath before muscling one duffel bag over her shoulders and dragging the other from the floor of the bird. It clunked to the ground, and she grabbed one end, thankful it had wheels. She squared her shoulders and walked in the direction the soldier crouched under the spinning rotor blades pointed to with his knife hand.
A tall, wide-shouldered officer, clad in a rumpled and faded Army Combat Uniform, waited on the other side of the waist-high concrete barrier. His cuffed sleeves, hands in his pockets, and overly relaxed posture made her think he was not “regular” Army.
“Staff Sergeant Paige Davis?” he asked.
“Yes.” She raised her voice to be heard over the helicopter’s engines as it took off.
“Major Aidan Graham.” He held his hand out and Paige shook it, noting the extensive tattoos on his muscled forearm, then saluted. A good reminder that he was an officer and therefore off-limits. She did not volunteer for Iraq to repeat her poor life choices.
He waved her off. “Don’t worry about that—we’re in a no-salute zone.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let me grab one of those.” He took the bag off her shoulders and walked to a Gator utility vehicle, placing her duffel in the small cargo area.
She hefted her other bag in and removed her helmet. Pushing the damp hair back from her face, she dropped it next to the bags.
“You can take your vest off too.” He climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Are we going far?” she asked.
“Three or four minutes, maybe.”
She settled on the passenger’s side. “I’ll keep it on. It’s easier to carry on my body.”
“Good point.” He reached under the bench seat and held something out to her. “Here.”
She took the proffered water bottle, chugging half of it.
He started the engine and released the brake. “First time in country?”
Still swallowing, Paige nodded.
“How long is your tour?”
“A year.” She took in the dirt, the large tents, the concrete barriers, the concertina wire, and the armed towers. Brown. Everything was brown, and she was definitely a long way from Charleston.
He glanced at her in surprise. “Wow. Long tour for Air Force. Who did you piss off?”
“I volunteered.”
“Huh.” He stopped in front of a squat, tan concrete building, set the brake, and turned off the engine. “I’m going to drop you at your room. Your roommate’s off today and knows you’re arriving. She said she’d hang out, get you set up tonight and show you around the camp, then bring you to work in the morning.”
“Okay.” They grabb
He banged on the brown metal door before opening it and shouting, “Male entering.”
They waited a few seconds for a response before proceeding down the hall. He stopped at the third plywood door and knocked.
It swung open to reveal a woman about Paige’s age in Army PT gear and black flip-flops, her dark blond hair pulled up in a messy bun on top of her head.
“Hey, sir.” She stepped back and opened the door fully.
Major Graham stepped back and set down Paige’s bag in the doorway. “This is where I leave you. Sergeant Reynolds, she’s all yours.”
“Later, Major,” her new roommate said.
Paige crossed the threshold into the small room, awkwardly dragging both bags behind her. No more than ten feet by ten feet, it held two twin beds against each side wall. Two metal wall lockers stood side by side against the far wall, and two small nightstands were wedged between the wall lockers and the beds.
She dropped her bags at the foot of the unmade bed and peeled off the heavy vest, careful not to let it drop on the floor to avoid cracking the plates. Taking a deep breath, Paige filled her lungs for the first time in hours, now that she wasn’t weighted down by an additional forty pounds.
“Here.”
She took the bottle of water the woman held out.
“I’m Denise.” She kicked off her flip-flops and sat cross-legged on her bed, leaning back against the wall.
“I’m Paige.” She sat on the edge of the other bed. Exhaustion pressed down on her and seeped into every muscle. Between the heat and the last three days with little sleep, she was ready to pass out. For the five million and eighth time, she wondered what the hell she’d been thinking.
“What’s your MOS?” Denise asked.
Paige gulped water, not sure how to respond. “My what?”
“Military Occupational Specialty—your job. What do you do in the Air Force?”
“Oh. I’m in intelligence.”
“Ah. That explains why they sent you here.” Denise folded forward and reached under her bed, pulling out a bottle of Gatorade. “Here. You need to hydrate.”
Paige capped her water bottle and took the sports drink. “Thank you. Why does me being intel explain why I’m here?”
“There’s a lot of information coming in, but not enough analysts to write it up for it to go out. There’s at least three months’ worth of backlog, if not more.”
“This is my first time doing this kind of intel. We don’t really do analysis in the Air Force. At least not of raw intelligence,” Paige said.
“Don’t worry about it. Unless you’ve been here before, no one has done this kind of analysis. It’s overwhelming at first, and there’s a steep learning curve, but once you find your groove, you’ll be fine.”
Paige gave her a grateful but weary smile. She’d worried people would judge her for her lack of tactical experience. This was all new territory.
“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Denise said. “But you at least need to eat, and chow isn’t for another hour, so how about a shower? It may help wake you up a little.”
“A shower would be great.” Without a doubt. Sweat was drying, forming a salty crust along her hairline and in other places where there should not be a salty crust.
“Okay. I’ll give you a quick tour and show you where the shower and latrine trailers are. We’ll get you some sheets and then go to chow.”
In the not-too-far distance, there was a thud, followed by a muffled explosion. Paige sat up straighter. “What was that?”
Denise looked up at the ceiling. “Mmm…mortar, if I had to guess.”
Paige jumped up from the bed. “What? What do we do?”
“Nothing.” Denise shrugged.
“Nothing? We’re being attacked! Shouldn’t we go somewhere? Take cover? Man the battle stations? Something?”
Denise waved a hand. “They’re probably taking potshots at the guard towers. Happens all the time. By the time we got to the bunkers, it’d be over. Besides, we’re safer in here than we are running around out there.”
Probably? Slack-jawed, Paige stared at Denise. She just sat there. Completely relaxed and calm.
BOOM!
Paige flinched and covered her head with her arms as the walls and furniture in the room shook.
Denise grinned. “Welcome to Abu Ghraib.”
Chapter 1
Seventeen Years Later
“Here are your room keys, Ms. Davis, Ms. Garcia. Your other guests checked in about thirty minutes ago. Go through the doors behind you and turn left, then follow the signs that point to the villas. You’re in building twenty-two.”
Paige took the key cards from the reception desk clerk. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy your stay.”
Handing one of the keys to Angie, Paige grabbed the handle of her suitcase. “Let’s go.”
The sultry air of St. John was a sharp contrast to the almost arctic air conditioning of the resort lobby. god , she loved this place. This was her retirement plan. Not the resort, but a small cottage close to the water in the middle of the Caribbean? Hell, yeah. She’d already bought a property in Costa Rica. She tried to visit it at least once a year, if not more. Everyone could have joined her there for her birthday celebration, but she liked to keep it hers. Besides, this resort was all-inclusive, and she didn’t want to worry about anything this weekend.
“Oh my god ! The pool is gorgeous!”
Paige grinned at Angie, whose excitement shone from her heart-shaped face. “Wait until you see the beach.”
“How many times have you been here?”
“Only once, a few years ago, but it’s by far one of my favorite resorts.”
“Thank you again for inviting me.”
“There’s no need to thank me. It was completely selfish on my part—I wanted a single friend with me as well.”
“Then I’m your girl.” Angie’s voice held just a little bit too much eagerness. “There—building twenty-two.”
“I think we’re on the backside,” Paige said. Sure enough, their villa was the corner unit, facing the beach.
Angie gasped. “Oh my god ! It’s so blue!”
“I know. I never go to the beach in Charleston because this is what I always compare it to.”
“Well, thanks for ruining it for me.”
Paige laughed and pressed her key card against the reader, pushing the door open when the lock tumbled and the light turned green.
“You’re here! You’re here! You’re here!”
Bree enveloped her in a tight hug before she fully entered the room. Paige dropped her tote and hugged Bree back, closing her eyes and holding on to one of her oldest friends. Damned if she didn’t even tear up a little bit.
Helping Denise a couple of years ago had hit home that she missed her sisterhood. She had friends in Charleston, but none who knew her. Not really. They knew the her she presented now—smart, independent, and would go out of her way to help her friends—but very few people found her soft spots.
Bree sniffed and pulled back. Her nose appeared bright pink against the rest of her pale skin. “Sorry. I’m feeling very emotional lately.”
Paige laughed. “You’ve always been emotional.”
“I know, but I cried over a toilet paper commercial yesterday, so I’m way more emotional than usual.” She looked over Paige’s shoulder. “You must be Angie. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to keep you out of the room—I’m just so excited to see Paige.”
