by Mandy Harbin
She paused, wondering where this stern attitude was coming from. “Why?” she asked, drawing the word out.
“All the color drained out of Heather’s face when you told her where you were going, so she’s freaking out. And for good reason.”
“I know she’s worried, but that still doesn’t tell me why you want to know.”
He huffed, his frustration clearly coming through the cell signal. “Because, believe it or not, I do know some people.”
“In the military?” she asked, thinking she would’ve heard if he’d joined when he moved away. Since it was all quiet, she assumed he was doing something shady and didn’t want to risk figuring it out. Ignorance was only bliss to reporters when it came to people they were close to. Besides, even if he had joined, he was back in Arkansas now, working at a garage.
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She rolled her eyes and was sure the sarcasm in her voice was apparent. “You’re a mechanic, not a solider.”
“You’re a reporter, not a solider.”
“Hunter—”
“You’re heading right into the line of fire. Heather’s worried, and you’re like a sister to me. I want to make sure you’re safe.”
You’re like a sister to me.
At least he’d never come out and said those words when she was ogling him from across the room. They would have crushed her little infatuated heart. Now, she felt a different kind of warmth. He was worried for her safety and that deflated any argument she’d been building in her head.
“Okay, all right. I’ll send you the info. I’ll even check in with Heather after I get there. Happy?”
“And your parents.”
She sighed. Jeez, if her friend’s brother was acting this worried, she could only imagine how her dad was going to take this news. She’d already planned on calling them next. “Got it, Hunter.”
There would be no arguing with him. She might have been crushing on him as a boy and jumped to do whatever he said, but now he was a hard man commanding authority and expecting compliance. It was obvious he’d been through some major stuff in his life and had changed over the years. She thought of him working at the garage during the time Colonel Shepard was there and the shit hit the fan. She’d been relieved she was out of the country on assignment, so she hadn’t been tasked with getting to the bottom of it. Heather had been away at college and not around when it happened—and seemingly swept under the rug. Her friend had been spared the fallout. More than once, though, Caitlin had wondered how it affected Hunter.
He must’ve handed the phone back to Heather because it was her voice that came through next. “Please, be careful. Find some strong solider with guns hanging off every limb to protect you.”
Caitlin wanted to chuckle at the image of that, but the muffled words of Hunter stopped her. “I’m already on it.”
“What does that mean?” she yelled, hoping he could hear her.
“It means, he’s right,” Heather said. “He has connections.”
“How does a mechanic get military connections?”
“Umm… There’s a lot you don’t know. Maybe it’s time you were told.”
This sounded like a major conversation, and she was already running late. “When I get back from this assignment, you can tell me over a bottle of wine.”
Heather chuckled. “You might want something stronger than that.”
“Please tell me it’s because I’d have just been in a war zone.” It wasn’t a question because she already knew the answer. This discussion would have nothing to do with Afghanistan.
“Call me when you get there,” was all she said and hung up.
Axle Landry made his way to see the Major General but had no clue as to the reason he’d been called in. He should be out training with his team and getting ready to head to the Gulf for exercises. When he’d asked his CO why he’d been singled out when he wasn’t even the team leader of his unit, Axle had gotten his ass chewed about following orders. Hell, he knew the drill. He’d been in the military for years, having re-upped again a few years ago. It was all he knew. Mostly.
There’d been a time early on when he thought he was going to switch to the private sector. He’d been on block leave working with the Orion team in cooperation with other military units at the time, but once their targets were neutralized, the group had been dismantled. He figured it could have taken on more operations on rotation once all the bugs typical with any pilot program were worked out, but after Oz had fallen in love with Bryn while on that assignment, his former team leader retired from military life to be with her. She’d been on the run from the mafia and Oz had been super protective of her. He had no idea where they moved off to. Zeke, on the other hand, had gone back to the bureau, and Axle remembered thinking Zeke’s decision probably had a little to do with being near Katie, the federal agent who’d worked on that assignment with them. Anybody with functioning eyeballs saw the man had a thing for her.
The three original Orion team members’ lives had all taken different paths, and Axle had been no different in carving out his future. He was now part of DEVGRU, more commonly known as SEAL Team Six. After bin Laden had been KIA, he knew the media wouldn’t stop until the group assigned to take him out had been identified. Those guys had been from Red Squadron. Axle was in the Black Squadron, but he knew those guys. Like many groups within the military, there was a camaraderie among the naval special warfare group.
Axle had worked hard to get where he was and was damn good at his job. He was one of the best snipers in the military, but he’d be lying if he said the decision to retire didn’t weigh on him. The war on terror ended up being a much larger campaign than anyone thought back when it had started. With the war in Iraq and Afghanistan and against ISIS, the US needed all the servicemen they could get. It made him feel a little guilty when he thought about not reenlisting again.
He was proud of his service, but being in the military meant he wasn’t around to help his dad with the car shop back home. His father had recently retired and closed the business he grew up helping with. If Axle completed his military career, he could always open it back up and continue the legacy his father started. Some of the best years of his life were spent under the hood of a car.
His contract would be up later this year, assuming they didn’t involuntarily extend it another twelve months. That, too, was a definite possibility, and nothing he could do about it if it happened. Any decision on what he could do after leaving the military would have to wait until he actually knew he could be discharged. No use in thinking about that now. A lot could happen before then.
It was oh-eight on the dot when he reached the door and rapped on it.
“Come in.”
Axle entered and saluted. “Commander Axle Landry reporting, sir.”
“At ease.”
Axle dropped his hand and stood in proper position, awaiting further command.
“You’re aware we had a C-130 drop a gift in Nangarhar.”
He was more than aware. Axle was pretty sure it was still the talk of the base. “Yes, sir.”
Major General Ethan Burge regarded him for several seconds. “Have a seat, Commander,” he finally said. Axle took the chair directly across from the man who was one of the hardest ever created in the US military. He was the deputy commander of operations and intelligence of CJTF-OIR. The Combined Joint Task Force was only a couple of years old and headquartered in Kuwait, so Axle had never had a chance to meet him personally. When CJTF was implemented, he’d remembered his days with Orion and had been hopeful it would be successful where his own endeavor had not. Besides having similar experiences of working with a joint task force, Major General Burge was also a fellow SEAL, so there was the unspoken brotherhood bond as well. The big difference between them was that this man before him was powerful. He worked under the US Lieutenant General Stanley Tanner, the leader at the helm of CJTF on Operation Inherent Resolve, which had been established to degrade and d
estroy ISIS.
“My CO didn’t provide any intel as to the nature of this meeting.” Then he quickly added, “Although, I’m always ready and available to serve without question.”
Burge raised an eyebrow. “Your CO hasn’t been cleared to receive the details. He was none too happy being stonewalled.”
That explained the hostility when Axle had tried to ask for clarification. No one liked being out of the loop, especially when the loop involved his subordinate men, but this information only raised more questions.
“You’re a sniper.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your records indicate you’re the best. Not only with confirmed kills, but with accuracy.”
If he’d been curious about this meeting earlier, he was downright confused now. For some reason, the Major General had dug into his evaluations. Carefully wording his reply, he said, “I don’t keep up with individual statistics, sir. I’m part of a team.”
“Good answer.”
“It’s the truth.” He’d said it as if that was all the explanation the Major General needed, but the other man just stared. The silence was thick and almost painful. Axle tried to think of why his shooting skills were important if his entire team hadn’t been part of his meeting. Immediately, he mentally ran through months and months of operations, wondering if he’d done something that would require reprimanding him. The thought was sickening, but he came up blank, unable to think of any reason his performance would have him in this room with the Major General.
“You’re also up for reenlistment.”
Axle blinked, but masked any other reaction. “Yes, sir.”
“Hmm…I see.”
Shit. “I don’t make those decisions until it’s time, sir,” he quickly added. It was the truth. Sort of.
“Fair enough.” Burge nodded slowly. “I’ve also learned you have a better than average understanding of vehicles.”
These questions seemed to be all over the place, but Axle was smart enough to know there was a point to all of this. “Yes, sir. My father owned a garage in Georgia. He’s retired now.”
Burge shifted in his seat, leaning slightly closer. “I’m putting you on a special op, Commander.” Axle stood a little taller with this news. “There’s a favor I owe a former teammate of mine. A Ms. Caitlin Cooper is in transit to our desert digs, and she’s going to need protection. That’s where you come in.”
Protection? “Is there a price on her head?” he asked seriously as he scanned his thoughts on the name. It was familiar to him, but he couldn’t place who she was. It wasn’t uncommon for famous people to come and show their support for troops through various shows and speeches. With name recognition came added threats, so they heightened security whenever someone scheduled a visit.
“There’s a price on everyone’s head. She, in particular, is a journalist coming to cover the MOAB strike.”
Jesus, he hoped like hell he hadn’t groaned at the word journalist. Unlike those who briefly stopped in to entertain them, reporters were a different beast. He understood the freedom of the press and all that business, but this was war. Her face still didn’t flash in his head with the new information, but he’d seen many correspondents embedded over the years on his tours and they were always where the action was. Being on a SEAL team, and a sniper at that, meant he’d never had to deal with them personally.
Until now.
“Originally from Arkansas, she’s lived in Georgia for years now.” Burge frowned briefly before continuing in a no-nonsense manner. “You’re experienced with automotive technology, so if a transport gets hit, you can mitigate the damage and get her to safety. You’re shooting record is exemplary, so you can take out threats from afar, and you’re a SEAL, so I know you’re skilled in lethal hand-to-hand combat. You’re familiar with the Achin District since your team had been tasked with scoping it out prior to the order to strike, and she’ll no doubt request passage. Your team isn’t currently on assignment, so pulling you away for a few weeks to work with her won’t cause any disruption to our primary mission here. You even have the state of Georgia in common.”
The bricks were falling into place now and landing one-by-one on his head. His superior hadn’t meant protection as in taking out identified threats against her. “This is a babysitting job,” he said without thinking.
“More like you’ll be her personal bodyguard. You’ll be given a small crew to assist in her protection and to fight combatants, but she’s your primary objective. You’re all over her like morning dew. She won’t be able to burp without you identifying what she had for lunch. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, but the words felt like they’d been muttered on autopilot as anger settled in. He stared straight ahead, wondering who in the world he pissed off to land this kind of karma.
“Sorry, sailor. I know it seems you drew the short straw on this, and well, because of circumstances, you did. It might’ve been born out of personal reasons, but make no mistake, this isn’t some unsanctioned op. Lt. General Stanley Tanner signed off on this. He did so because I asked him to, which means not only will you be reporting directly to me, but he’s fully aware of this assignment and will be kept abreast of all the details surrounding it.”
Holy shit. It shocked the hell out of him that he’d be reporting directly to the Major General, but to hear the Lt. General would be keeping tabs on him too? Axle had never had this close of a direct line to the more political officers. This was a crap assignment, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. But it’d be a highly visible one. He would have to make sure he followed protocol without any errors. Good thing he was a stickler for obeying the rules anyway. This time, however, important people would be watching him. Not a team, him. If he screwed up, it’d be his ass, but if he showed them how diligent and methodical he could be then maybe…”
“You do this assignment without fail, you’ll be going places, Landry. Fast,” Burge said aloud what Axle’s thought refused to finish in silence. “Assuming you decide to reenlist that is,” he added with a smirk.
Could a babysitting job really propel his military career more so than actual battles he’d fought? It’s not what you know…it’s who you know. Yeah, it was entirely possible. Having a personal connection to the people in charge couldn’t hurt.
Unless he screwed this up somehow.
No way was Axle going to let that happen.
“To be clear, you are protection. Period. Not a source. I don’t want your name anywhere in her reports. You are not cleared to answer questions about the mission in the Achin District prior to the strike. The fact that you’ve recently been to the area was a determining factor in approving you for this role, but that doesn’t mean the military is giving her free access to sensitive intel. Understood?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” he said with more conviction than before.
Keep my eyes open and mouth shut. He had a job to do, not that he had a choice. Axle had to take the assignment whether he liked it or not, but at least there could be something in it for him in the end. He had no problem keeping his personal knowledge of that prior mission to himself. Secrecy was par for the course in special operations anyway.
He had a lot of questions running through his head, but he wouldn’t waste the Major General’s time. As soon as he got back, he’d power up his CO’s laptop and get those answers, starting with the most important question running loose in his mind.
Just who was Caitlin Cooper, and why was this journalist so important that the Lieutenant General was uprooting not only him, but a team of men he’d oversee all for the purpose of guarding her?
Chapter Two
Caitlin was exhausted. Tired to her bones from her trip to Afghanistan, and she’d only just gotten here. Upon landing, she’d had to go through what she likened to the military’s version of customs to get access to the base, and that hadn’t included actual customs along the way. She needed a shower followed by a five-hour nap and a five-pound cheeseburger.
WWCAD? She
doubted her professional idol would stuff her face and whine about needing some grub and a tub. Caitlin shook the thoughts of creature comforts away. If she was lucky, she’d only be here a couple of weeks. Troop deployments were a heck of a lot longer than any short trip she would experience. She’d do well to remember that and not complain, even internally. She knew this. She blamed being tired for the lapse, but she needed to ignore her fatigue and focus on her job. If she fixated on every yawn her body produced, that was another moment she wasn’t thinking about her work.
Or her safety.
Her dad had served in Desert Storm and hadn’t taken the news of her current assignment lightly. She could still hear the warnings he’d given her echoing in her ears. “Follow orders… You will not risk your life for the story… Don’t let some randy soldier into your panties…” That last one had almost made her laugh. Almost. Her dad was normally a big ol’ softy who loved to joke, having long ago left the military behind for a boring desk job and life in suburbia. His haunted eyes shone brightly on the rare occasions he talked of his tours. The added veil of the video call yesterday did nothing to hide the permanent despair long buried in them. But he was her dad. He’d be concerned if she was going on vacation alone to Florida.
As she’d promised, she sent texts to her parents and Heather, letting them know she’d gotten there safely. She’d call later when she wasn’t about to pass out and when the time change wasn’t working against them.
“Ms. Cooper?” a tall, dark-haired man asked. He sported several days’ growth on his chin. “I’m Lorenzo Ricci, the videographer working with you on this assignment.”
She hopped as she hefted her carry-on more securely to her shoulder and stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ricci.”
“Lorenzo, please.”
“Caitlin,” she said in way of agreement before dropping her hand. “What can you tell me about the bombing?”
“All in due time, Caitlin,” a man said walking up from behind Lorenzo. She looked over at him, irritation pricking at how he’d said her name, but before she formed a response, she noticed he wasn’t the only man in uniform close by. There were several men standing with their legs slightly apart and their hands behind their backs all staring directly at her. Her gaze slid to each one before she looked up at the man who’d spoken to her seconds ago and invaded her personal space now. “You have to be briefed on procedure and sign some documentation before you’re allowed access to any information. Follow me.” He turned as if not needing a response from her.
