And everyone—including Webb—knew it.
Sure, the guy had put in his own time as a decorated Lieutenant and successful JAG. But it had been decades since Webb was one of the top Judge Advocate Generals, and even longer since the man had seen any real action.
As far as Van was concerned, Webb was an arrogant paper pusher who spent more time rubbing elbows with those sitting in the current top political positions than remembering what it felt like to have the bottoms of his boots actually touch the fucking ground.
“Well, Braddock…” The other man’s expression remained unchanged. “From what I can tell, your ass appears to be just fine.”
Arrogant prick.
Van opened his mouth to tell Webb where he could go and how to get there, but Logan quickly chimed back in before he got the chance.
“We plan to use the flight home to question Miss Dawari.” His teammate’s hazel eyes burned into Van’s before returning their focus to the screen. “But like Van said, shit went down quick at the hotel. Our only focus was getting the hell out ofthere, boarding the plane, and leaving Kandahar airspace as fast as we could. We’re about to talk to the woman now but I wanted to touch base with you first.”
Sliding a quick glance over his shoulder, Van took in the cabin’s back half. The top-of-the-line aircraft offered its occupants a fully stocked bar, private bedroom and bathroom—shower included, and more than enough space to move around. It even had a kitchenette.
Stocked with enough food and drinks for the twelve-hour flight home, there was a small refrigerator, microwave, and sink. But it was the sixteen-inch towel bar bolted securely to the interior panel behind one of the plane’s two rear seats that interested him the most.
More accurately, it was the woman he’d handcuffed to the bar that held his attention in place.
Kaamisha Dawari sat on the floor of the plane with her back leaning up against the wall behind her. Yards of cream-colored material covered every inch of her bent-up legs, the fabric torn and charred in several places from the attack on their hotel.
The olive colored hijab had long-ago fallen, revealing a head of long, thick, wavy black hair as it lay resting around the woman’s shoulders and neck. Her wrists were being held in place a few inches above her head with the set of metal cuffs secured around the long, silver bar. They’d purposely kept the volume of the video call down low enough that only they could hear what Secretary Webb had to say.
Almost as if she could feel the weight of his stare, she turned and looked straight into his eyes. Van’s lungs momentarily froze, his heart kicking hard against his ribs as a strange sort of tightening occurred deep inside his gut.
What the hell?
Refusing to put a second’s worth of his time into deciphering…whatever the hell that was…he forced himself to look away. With his focus back on the man whose face nearly filled theentire screen, he pulled in a deep, silent breath and homed in on what SECNAV was saying.
“Anyone follow you from the hotel to the airstrip?” Webb’s question was posed to no one in particular.
Archer gave a quick shake of his head. “Hayes put his evasive driving skills to the test on the way to the airport. He drove fast and took several extra turns to ensure no one followed us to the jet.”
Webb nodded. “Smart move.”
From his seat directly to Van’s right, Chase asked, “So what happens now? With the woman, I mean?”
“Hopefully, you can get her to talk. We need to know everything she knows, starting with why she thinks your SEAL unit was responsible for her mother’s death. But…”
Logan frowned. “But what?”
The silver-haired man’s broad shoulders fell with a sigh. “If she truly does believe you men are the ones behind her mom’s death…and according to the intel and chatter on our end, that definitely seems to be the case…probability’s high that she won’t talk to you at all.”
“She’ll talk,” Van vowed, his hardened gaze meeting Webb’s from this side of the screen. “One way or another.”
“Careful, Braddock. We can’t have word getting out that your team kidnapped and tortured an Afghan woman. Especially without government backing.”
He blinked. “Then what the hell good are you?”
“I’m the one person on this end of things that still has your back,” Webb bit out harshly. “But you know as well as I do that this mission…hell, the entire investigation into what happened to you and your men on that mountain three years ago…is as off-the-books as it gets. Word gets out about what you men have been up to, I won’t be able to do a damn thing to protect you.”
“Oh, so that’s what you’ve been doing all this time?” Van challenged. “Protecting us?”
More like covering your own selfish ass.
“Van—”
“No, it’s okay, Logan.” Webb raised a palm to stave off Logan’s attempt to play mediator. “I accepted a long time ago that it doesn’t matter what I say or do. When it comes to Mr. Braddock, here…it will never be enough.”
