The Midnight Hour - Brenda Jackson [12]
Warren definitely had a commanding presence. He stood a tall six-foot-four inches and was muscular and well-built. There was a look about him that seemed dangerous and warned he wasn't a person to toy or trifle with. He had a hard look, one made of stone as if nothing and no one could move him or stir his frozen blood. His rock-solid jaw added to the granite look, and besides looking like he probably ate nails for breakfast, he also gave the appearance that he consumed snakes and snails for dinner. Casey was reminded of something else he'd also heard about Warren. Somehow and someway, he'd always gotten whatever man he went after… except for one, Solomon Cross.
Hawk had briefed Casey on Warren's history so he knew all about how he had suffered when he'd lost a team member on an assignment five years ago; a team member who also had been Warren's lover. According to Hawk, Warren still grieved for the woman. Warren's hunger for revenge was the driving force behind his determination to get the elusive Cross.
But Casey felt Warren's hunger would be quenched in good time since there was no one in the Agency who didn't want to bring Cross to justice, including him. However, Casey had a feeling Warren would want to dish out his own brand of punishment on Cross, which wouldn't be a pretty picture. In the meantime, Casey refused to let Warren continue to operate a one-man show, especially in this particular situation.
"Evidently I didn't make myself clear, Casey," Warren said, breaking into Casey's thoughts and reclaiming the man's attention. "But I don't do partners and never have. I work alone. Those were the terms I gave Hawk when I signed up. I stopped working in a team when I left the marines as a Recon five years ago. I'm surprised Hawk didn't tell you that."
Casey shook his head. "He told me but with this particular assignment I didn't take that into consideration. On this mission you'll need to take someone else along."
Drake's eyes turned cold, hard as steel. "Then get another agent because I'm not interested."
Casey flinched and sucked in his breath. Disrespect and insubordination were two things he would not tolerate. Coming to his feet he stared long and hard at the man standing in his office. He would have loved to tell Drake to get out of the office and never come back and that his days with the Agency were over, but Casey knew he couldn't do that when he had direct orders from the president himself. Apparently the vice president, who'd been impressed with Warren's rescue of him, had put a bug in the president's ear and the commander in chief wanted Warren on this particular assignment; no other agent would do.
"It doesn't matter if you're interested or not, Warren, you're going."
Evidently no one had ever told Warren what he would or would not do. He had just given the man a direct order and refusing to comply could mean him his job. However, it seemed that didn't mean a damn thing to Warren because he crossed his arms over his chest and said, 'The hell I will."
Casey also crossed his arms over his chest and said, And the hell you won't. The order comes directly from the President so to decline is not an option."
Drake unfolded his arms and lifted a surprised, dark brow. He cocked his head, zeroing in on what Casey had just said. "The president?"
'Yes. His niece was snatched off a beach in Costa Rica this morning by a group of revolutionaries. She was mistaken for one of the president's daughters, who luckily had decided to skip the beach to stay inside the villa to read." Casey sighed. "The reason we hadn't acted sooner was because we didn't know the exact location of where she was taken. Now thanks to an informer, we do."
Anger consumed Drake like it always did whenever he heard of a kidnapping.