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have been a fly on the wall when they first met.
    * * *
SEMETEI AIR BASE, KYRGYZSTAN
    “Welcome to the Gateway to Hell.”
    Jackson stood at the entrance to Semetei Air Base, a huge grin on his sunburned face. He was your quintessential California surfer, all shaggy blond hair, long overdue for a regulation cut, and he had a laid-back nature unusual for someone in this particular line of work. He and the rest of the team had arrived at Semetei 24 hours ahead of Nathan, who’d had to go through an extra day of debriefing for reasons he still thought were bullshit.
    Like its larger counterpart, Manas Transit Station, Semetei was a popular stopping point for all US military personnel coming to and leaving Afghanistan. Both had good recreation facilities that allowed coalition forces from all branches a comfortable way station between assignments.
    Jackson gave Nathan the tour of the various buildings, including spacious barracks, dining hall, gymnasium, library, and chapel, all well-appointed.
    Nathan raised an eyebrow.
    “I’m not seeing the ‘hell’ part here.”
    “That comes when you leave,” Jackson said. They walked out of the chapel and paused at the entrance. Some sort of altercation was going on across the way, involving a couple of flyboys and a woman in an indeterminate uniform of khaki skirt and blouse that still managed to make her look like a centerfold. Even from a distance, it was obvious the flyboys appreciated the woman’s charms as much as Nathan did. They stood in her way as she tried to walk past, and it was just as clear that she didn’t appreciate their “compliments.”
    “Who’s that, Jackson?” Nathan nudged his buddy. “The blonde over there.”
    Jackson snorted.
    “That, my friend, is Simone Fraser. And let me just tell you, there are cold fish in the Arctic that’ll give you a warmer reception than she will.”
    “Really?” Nathan said absently, still staring across the distance as one of the flyboys put a hand on her shoulder. There was a blur of motion, and the flyboy’s arm was twisted up behind his back, the woman’s knee pressed into his spine as he was forced to eat tarmac.
    Jackson just rolled his eyes as if to say I told you so.
    “Really,” he echoed. “Trust me when I say you do not wanna go there.”
    Yeah, I really do, Nathan thought, but he held his tongue.
    * * *
    The next day, when he saw Simone Fraser heading toward the library, he didn’t hesitate. Deciding to intercept her, he stepped in front of her just enough to make her pause, but not enough to come across as predatory.
    “Excuse me,” he said.
    She stopped, raising a perfectly arched brow as she turned a cool, sea-green gaze in his direction.
    “Yes?”
    “I’m new here, and was hoping you could answer a very important question.” Nathan gave her his most charming smile, one he’d been told could have convinced a nun to give up her celibacy.
    The eyebrow arched a bit higher.
    “And what would that be?”
    Nathan leaned in for the kill.
    “Who do I have to shoot to get a decent cup of coffee around here?”
    Her lips quirked.
    “No one,” she replied without a hint of humor. “We have a Starbucks.”
    “Damn,” Nathan said.
    She gave him a look, a half smile playing around her mouth.
    “You sound disappointed.”
    “I am.”
    “You enjoy killing that much?”
    Nathan cocked his head to one side and gave her a look.
    “No,” he replied. “I prefer Peet’s.”
    Her smile widened, exposing straight, pearly-white teeth.
    “So do I.”
    Nathan grinned and offered his arm.
    “Care to join me for an espresso anyway?”
    She tilted her head to one side in a way that would have been coquettish on most women, but just seemed natural for her.
    “I would be delighted, Lieutenant...?”
    “It’s Captain... Captain Smith. But you can call me Nathan.”
    “I’m Simone.” She took his arm. “Simone Fraser.”
    “I know.”
    “Oh, really?”
    He grinned at her.
    “I believe in doing my