“I should've been there for you.” Cruise slid into the opposite side of the booth.
“You were deployed. It didn't matter anyway. Whatever we had ended long before this.” Hatch slapped the scar.
"I heard you died."
"I heard that too."
"Well for a dead person, you look great.”
Hatch felt her cheeks warm with a redness blocking her pale complexion. She knew Cruise well enough that, beyond his charm and golden boy looks, he was more than a cookie-cutter superhero.
She remembered it being one of his most endearing qualities. Beneath his tough exterior was a kind soul. Cruise had laid it bare to her while on a midnight picnic overlooking the San Diego Bay. Cruise had taken her to Turner Field, a grassy sports field located on the Naval Amphibious Base in Coronado. The Silver Strand Boulevard separated the main base from the SEAL candidates being run through the grinder of the Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL, or BUD/s. Cruise had been named Honor Man for his class, a distinction earned by outperforming all other trainees. He hadn't stopped at surpassing his peers but went on to dethrone the obstacle course longtime record holder.
As they’d shared a glass of wine and looked out on the lights of the bridge connecting Coronado to the San Diego mainland, Hatch remarked at the stillness of the bay water compared to the ocean feeding it. She had said the moon looked as though it were kissing the water. Then he proposed to her using a piece of foil he'd shaped into a ring. He deployed for eighteen months the next morning. Hatch had just been selected for Task Force Banshee. Even if the foil ring had been real, it would've ended the same. Married to the military left them lonely in life. Or at least for her it did. Cruise now wore a black plated tungsten wedding band.
"They still make those coffee cakes?" Hatch asked.
"Best in the world. My humble opinion, of course." Cruise leaned back in his seat and called over in the direction of the kitchen, "Sherry, two of the usual."
Sherry, a cute waitress in her late twenties, approached with the two plates balanced in one hand and a coffee pot in the other. Cinnamon sugar filled the air. The waitress topped off both mugs before returning to the kitchen.
"How did you know about that Talon team coming for me?"
"Same old Hatch. You don't beat around the bush."
"Never really been my way." The warmth of Hatch's coffee warded off the coolness still clinging to the air of the spring morning.
"There's a long and short answer to that question."
"That's not an answer."
"I'm with Talon."
Hatch nearly spat her coffee. Her mind reeled. She quickly scanned the interior of the café. No threat.
"Relax. It's me. Just me."
"I don't understand."
"You've got Talon all wrong. It's not what you think. They are on the cutting edge of defense contracting, handling some of the most dangerous missions in the world."
"Like hunting a woman and her family? Are my niece and nephew these dangerous threats you speak of?" Hatch felt a surge of rage rise up inside her.
"What happened to you was an anomaly. It's a private security company, plain and simple. Government contract work, foreign and domestic. What happened to you was done by a rogue element, a couple old war horses with skeletons in their closet."
"My dad was one of those old war horses."
"I know."
"That's all you got?" Hatch suddenly wasn't as hungry.
"I only came upon it by accident. I was putting together a proposal to bring you in and make you an offer. I was using our internal system to draft the request when I found your name had been flagged. When I tried to access it, it was beyond my clearance. At the time I thought there was nobody beyond my level.
“I eventually gained access. I thought somebody had already begun the recruitment process. Having a female with your skillset is rare. And we are always looking to add the right people to our ranks. But that wasn't the case. You weren't being recruited. You were being targeted. Being targeted by Talon is never a good thing." He broke into a smile. "Unless your name is Rachel Hatch."
"This is your recruitment pitch? I killed a group of your hired guns and now you want to offer me a job?"
"Not exactly. But sort of. The upper echelon wants to call a truce. And their peace offering is in the form of a job opportunity."
"Why would they want me to work for them?"
"Something about keeping friends close and enemies closer."
"I'm an enemy?"
"Not to me. Their words. Not mine."
"Why not kill me?"
"They tried killing you. It didn't take."
"Why not kill you for interfering?"
"They don't know. All they know is that you survived an encounter that should never have left an entire team dead. But somehow you single-handedly stopped them all."
Hatch thought of Nighthawk's well-timed shot that had saved her life and knew the fallacy in Cruise's assessment.
"If you accept this offer, you'll be safe."
"Handling the world's most dangerous missions doesn't sound like a safe offer."
"It would mean your family would be safe. You'd never have to worry about them again. Nobody's coming for you ever again if you accept."
Hatch felt a lightness she hadn't experienced in a very long time. She was grateful for the momentary interruption when Sherry returned to warm their coffee.
"I know this sounds crazy. It was the best plan I could come up with to save your life."
"I'm not sure what kind of life that leaves me with."
"I know you. I know the type of person you are. I know your code. In my division at Talon, we help people, good people in bad situations."
"What division would that be?"
"Kidnapping and ransom risk management. All ex-military and police special operators like yourself. We handle private high-dollar contracts, both domestic and abroad. Our team cuts through bureaucratic red tape like a warm knife through butter. We save lives. And get to put down some bad guys in the process.
“What is that thing you always used to say? Something your father told you about helping good people? That's what we're doing. I mean we're dealing with life and death situations. Doesn't get more real than that. Plus, we've got a damn good track record of bringing those victims back.”
Hatch pondered the opportunity while sitting in the shadow of the Hotel Del Ray, which was blocking the view of the sand berms where future SEALs battled shore breaking waves in hopes of serving in a Tier One capacity. Hatch was being given an opportunity to rejoin the life she’d left behind. Since leaving Mexico, Hatch had been giving thought on how to best honor her code as she moved forward.
"How do we do this? Set up some type of job interview? Do I have to give you a résumé?"
"You just did." His smile broadened, stretching across his golden skin. "Does that mean you're in?"
"I'm in."
"Let me be the first to welcome you to Talon Executive Services."
"I do this on one condition. I can walk away at any time. No questions asked. Nobody comes looking for me or my family. Once I do this, they are off the radar forever. Understood?"