To say Hawk was surprised that the caller interrupting his meeting was his daughter was an understatement.

To say shocked wouldn't have begun to cover it and confused was a laughable description.

But he took the call. To his credit.

"This is Hawk," he said hesitantly. "What's this about?"

"My mother was killed in a car accident. I need a signature on a form. Give me a fax number and I'll get out of your hair."

The caller sounded young. Female. Pissed at the world.

"Who are you trying to reach?"

"Are you James Hawk, date of birth…?"

"Yes. And you would be...?"

"Your worst nightmare. My mother was married to you when I was conceived."

Hawk had only been married the one time and it had been an unqualified disaster. He didn't like the restrictions, she had resented the frequent and unanticipated abandonment. Not to mention that she hadn't batted her eyelashes at filling in the lonely hours of their separations.

"Muriel?"

"Try again. And maybe click your heels."

"What?!"

"'The witch is dead'? I'm Muriel's daughter. Elizabeth Grace." There was a pause. "Hawk. You're on my birth certificate. Child's services found you-see if you could get to a notary public and send back the forms via courier."

Hawk took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was very aware of the people passing by the desk upon which sat the phone. And his voice was dangerously quiet when he spoke again. "I. Do not. Under. Stand."

Lizibeth shrugged across an ocean and most of another continent. "I am begging you...give me a number, sign where they put the little x's, and let's just pretend that none of this ever happened. I want to be free of the whole mess and you're my only stumbling block."

"Are you saying that you're my child?" he asked.

"No. My mother said it. But seeing as how you walked out on her about the time I would have been conceived I just don't know. And I don't care, because yours is the name she used. So it's very important that we focus on the bigger issue and keep the details from muddying things. You won't be liable for any back child support-I checked. Signing the form for me to enlist makes you responsible for absolutely nothing. It simply uncomplicates life for us both."

"How old are you?" he choked.

"Seventeen. How old are you?"

"Old enough not to sign things I haven't read."

"You're forty-seven for another month. I've read the forms and you can trust that my intellect is up there with the very brightest crayons in the box."

"You want to enlist early?"

"I do. But I need a guardian to sign the form to make me an emancipated minor. Mom wouldn't do it just to screw with me. But she's dead and gone now and I'm burying her Tuesday so if we could just move things along here..."

"You're all on your own? Where are you? Do you have grandparents or somebody you can call?"

He heard the long-suffering sigh on the other line. Her voice was reasonable when she spoke again. "I'm not trying to be difficult," she told him. Elizabeth Grace. That's what she'd said her name was. Elizabeth Grace Hawk. "I am a nice person trying to move past a disastrous childhood. I have no grandparents. If you were married to my mom you should know her folks are dead. And, seeing as how the state had to pull my birth certificate to try to locate next of kin, I don't know if you have parents or not." Her voice took a turn towards hysteria. "I AM STUCK HERE IN THIS ASSININE SYSTEM UNTIL SOMEONE SPRINGS ME! WHERE CAN I SEND THE FRIGGING PAPERS?"

"I don't," he said apologetically. "If you'll let me talk to your case worker I'll be on the next flight out. But I'm in Africa, so it's going to take some time."

Lizibeth took the phone from her ear and banged it on the table top. "Are you listening to me?" she asked when she rejoined the conversation. "I don't want you to come. I don't want you here. I want to get out of here and you are holding the key to my freedom. I'm not going to turn tricks. I'm not going to join the circus. I am asking you to sign a form that's already filled out so that I can go to boot camp. Are we clear here?"

"Elizabeth Grace? Why are you being so hostile to me? I think I'm as much the victim here as you."

"You walked out on my mother! No! You kicked her out! You told her to pack up her stuff and be gone before you got back!"

"I signed up for fidelity and monogamy!" he snapped back.

"Big deal. You got your freedom-your do-over-and I want mine. You have to sign the papers!"

"I'll take a leave of absence and you can finish high school where you are. Then we'll talk military versus college."

Her growl made him chuckle. "I don't need to finish high school-"

"Everybody needs to finish high school," he interrupted.

"I can pass the GED as soon as you sign off on me joining up."

"What about college?"

"I have 23 credit hours right now. I've juggled work and school just fine up until now. I don't see it being a problem if I enlist. Plus the Army pays for it. Win-win."

"You said your mother knew about this?"

"I've been begging since my birthday. So far she's set fire to one application, flushed one, ripped one into confetti, and dumped one in a saucepot."

Hawk was silent. It lingered and his stomach cramped painfully. "Elizabeth Grace...I left your mother. I didn't even know about you."

"It's fine. Just get me out of here."

He nodded, his throat tight. "Fine," he finally managed. "Send me the forms."

Lizibeth passed off the phone to the social worker lurking beside her. They exchanged contact information and Hawk got the pertinent details. Before going back to his meeting he arranged for a funeral wreath and a plane ticket.

"What's the word, boss?"

Hawk shook his head. "Seems as though, about seventeen, eighteen years ago, the stork made an important delivery my ex-wife forgot to mention."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

"Boy or girl?"

"Girl. Sounds pissed at the world. Growing up with Muriel-I can only imagine the reasons why."

Elizabeth Grace. Hawk pondered the name as he watched her swing over mudpits and log balance beams on the obstacle course. Her mother had named her well. Her instructors were pleased with her. She lived up to her last name, too. They thought she was sharp. Observant and quick to learn. Excellent hand-eye coordination. Full of initiative and eager to follow orders. He'd gotten her high school and college transcripts as well. Nothing but A's. High A's. Competitive swimmer until high school. Majorette her freshman and sophomore years. Dropped everything her junior year to concentrate on the books.

And now she was hanging in there-and doing a superb job with it-with men and women who had years' living and maturity on her.

The DI called her 'Baby.' Hawk figured it was one of those nicknames that would stick.

"Like father like daughter?" the school's commandant beamed at him.

Hawk shook his head. "I had damn little to do with it. She's her own girl."

"Spitting image. If you took off a few inches and grew some curves and eyelashes you'd be twins."

"God help her," Hawk objected. But he liked the image. The connection. She did favor him. Hair, eyes, the full, wide lips. He saw his mother in her, too, and thought it shameful that his parents had died without knowing their granddaughter. Maybe some of his mother's strength had passed through him to her. God only knew what life growing up with Muriel had been like. No wonder she was practically breezing through basic.

"Want me to set up a meet for you, sir?" the other man asked.

Hawk shook his head. "Nah. I'd rather she not know I was checking up on her."

"I understand that, General. Girls these days..."

"No favoritism, okay?" he reaffirmed. "I want her to top out, but I absolutely want to know that she did it on her own."

"You got it. Nobody knew whose she was until you showed up at the gate. Nobody really knows now, not with your file being classified like it is."

Hawk grinned his predatory smile. "Let's keep it that way, shall we?"