Read Return of the Phoenix - 01 for Free Online

kissing, she doesn’t know, but she knew that this was where she wanted to be. She felt safe again. He made her feel safe. Her mountain of a man holding her gently, kissing her, making her feel like she is the only woman in the world…this is what she truly wanted. The fight in her drained away as she let down her guard and opened her heart to him once again.
    Robert’s pager went off and she cursed softly beneath his mouth. No! This can’t be happening again. This is why I had to divorce you the first time. You can’t do this. You can’t. Don’t look at it. If you choose that damned pager…
    Robert pulled away from her to look at the pager. He cursed again and hung his head low. “I’m sorry, baby. I have to.”
    Barbara didn’t even know she was crying, but Robert reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes. The sadness in his eyes bore through to her very soul. If I could make it all better, I would. He cupped her face and reached in for another kiss. She kissed him again, this time more desperately, her arms wrapping around his neck again holding on and squeezing herself against him.
    The pager buzzed again, and this time Barbara practically choked out a sob. “I love you so much, Babs. Tell Bobby I love him, too.” He kissed her once more on the tip of her nose.
    He mounted his Jeep and started it up. He looked out at her standing in the driveway and she stood there staring at him, tears streaming down her face.  “You bring your ass home safe, Robert. Or I swear to God, I’ll dig up your corpse so I can kill you myself,” she whispered as his Jeep pulled from the curb.
     
    *****
     
    Jimmy ‘Tango Down’ Wallace didn’t appear to be much of a threat to the bikers in the bar, but there was still something about the little man that made them uneasy. TD, as he was known to his friends, was just trying to enjoy a cold beer and maybe shoot some pool, but the majority of the patrons in this shit-hole dive were already so inebriated and rowdy that he knew there would be trouble.
    At 5’8”, TD wasn’t large in stature, but he carried himself with a surety that was unmistakable. He was a no-nonsense kind of fellow made of tougher things than most could endure. He just looked like he was tougher than shoe leather, and the jagged scar running from his right brow and down his cheek added to the intensity the man carried. An Air Force Combat Controller for the last eight years, TD had spent as much time in the muck as any other spec ops warrior. He had fought evil all over the globe – from the Columbian drug lords to terrorist cells in Iraq, TD had seen or done most everything there was to do and still be able to walk away from it. He still recalled when the flight surgeon promised they could make him pretty again, he said, ‘Fuck it. Pain don’t last forever, and chicks dig scars.’  It may have been an old expression, but it definitely held true. TD was never much on looks prior to the incident that left him scarred, but afterward, the chicks certainly seemed more interested.
    Draining his beer, he took one last look around the bar to see if any patrons were sober enough to offer a game at the pool table. Satisfied that there were none, he slid off his barstool to leave. Counting out his bar tab and allowing for a tip, he dropped a small wad of bills on the bar and was turning to leave when his pager went off. Glancing at the number, he knew he had to return to base as soon as possible.
    The drive to the base was shorter than he expected, and he arrived at the station chief’s watch post. TD checked in, signed the log and was headed to the locker room when he was intercepted by his commanding officer. “Tango, I got orders for you. My office, five minutes.”
    “Yes, sir,” TD responded. He loaded his bug-out bag and was checking his gear when Dave Marshal came sliding through the door. TD and Dave had pretty much spent all of their time together. Having enlisted at the same time, gone through boot