by Mandy Harbin
“And did that make you feel like you owed the spotter one after that? That if he asked you to do something, you’d do it for him no questions asked?”
“Yes, Sir, but he’s my brother. I’d do anything for any one of them.” Even the ones who hadn’t saved his life directly because they all had done so one way or another year after year. It was what made teamwork so vital in special operations. If someone failed in their role, it could cause a catastrophic domino effect. They all needed and counted on each other. “Of course, he likes to remind me of the time he saved my ass whenever he gets a chance, Sir.”
He chuckled, but then went silent again. “What if he hadn’t survived? What if, instead of living, he gave his life for yours? How would you repay that kind of debt, Commander?”
“That kind can never be repaid, Sir, but I would make it my life’s mission to try anyway.”
“You’re a good warrior, Landry. We need more like you in all branches of military.”
“Thank you, Sir.” That meant a lot coming from someone as decorated as the Major General. Not that it explained why their conversation detoured down this path.
The man paused, and Axle could sense a shift in his demeanor before he said anything else. These questions had been poignant, he knew that. The Major General was a smart and methodical man. He could assess a situation and contemplate all possible scenarios before asking one question. “UAV will track your flight plan and return to base for regular assignment. It won’t be with you throughout the day, but it’ll at least ensure your path is initially clear of combatants.”
“Thank you.” It wasn’t as good of an option as tracing their routes throughout the day, but it was a step in the right direction that would help protect them in the field.
“And Landry, the faster Cooper finishes her investigation into the MOAB, the quicker we can get back to normal.”
“I like normal, Sir.”
“Me, too. Although, you are right. Repaying a life debt is a never-ending responsibility.” With that, he disconnected the call.
Axle had no idea who had saved the Major General’s life, but he had no doubt something awful happened in his past that would forever bind him to that man’s legacy.
A legacy that was somehow attached to Caitlin Cooper.
Chapter Eight
After two days of flyovers, Caitlin was finally allowed on the ground to talk with locals. That hadn’t been the original plan, but Axle had said something about a drone intercepting fire and having to modify the schedule. If it didn’t delay her investigation, she’d find it funny that his precious agenda got all jacked up. Once they were back from surveying the land, she attempted to question people on the base about the bombing, but that had gotten her nowhere.
Her official assignment hadn’t been the only story that had stalled. She hadn’t been able to reach Hunter either. She tried contacting him that evening as she’d told him, but he hadn’t picked up. Not only that, but there’d been no reply from him. She messaged him morning and night the last couple of days after each attempt at contacting him through the chat feature on the social media platform. After no luck again this morning, she fired off a lengthy message to Heather about needing her help reaching him.
Then she went to Maya’s profile and messaged her about reaching him. If he wouldn’t listen to his sister, maybe he’d listen to his girlfriend. She’d try reaching him again when she got back to base this evening.
Now, she was in Nangarhar, interviewing several of the local tribe members. It hadn’t been easy winning their trust. She was an American on their land. Just because they appreciated the fight against the Taliban and ISIS didn’t mean they welcomed outsiders with open arms. The bomb dropping nearby certainly hadn’t helped smooth their ruffled feathers. Each time she asked someone new about it, Asad had to rush to translate the frustrations echoed from all.
It had taken a while, but eventually, she’d gotten into her stride. With each new person she met, she’d been directed to another with just a little bit more information than the last. Lorenzo was a genius behind the camera, making sure to capture all the best angles during the interviews, and when she’d been hunting down each new lead, he also filmed various groups of people going along their normal lives. When someone refused to talk on camera, he focused on Caitlin as she took notes...with the cool pen Axle had let her use. She should probably give it back to him before she lost it. She had a feeling it’d be a lot cheaper to buy a bag of Bics than risk misplacing his special one. She like using it, though. It was very fluid, and it was his. She quickly pushed that thought away and focused on her work.
All the material Lorenzo captured would be useful to them. Most would be spliced in with the interviews she conducted to tell the complete story. The rest could be used for teasers or intros for smaller online news segments. She could already tell this was going to be an amazing piece for the network.
If she could find the compelling hook her producer knew was out there.
The last young man she’d spoken with told her of his uncle, saying the man had been out with his goats when he saw suspicious men. Caitlin followed the young guy to his uncle and asked him some questions. The uncle confirmed he’d seen those suspicious men his nephew first discussed, but said his wife had talked directly to one of them. When she learned this, she had to contain her excitement. This could be the break she was hoping for! She asked to speak to her, but the man refused to allow his wife to come out of their home.
Not with foreign military men in the village.
She understood. Besides the typical weariness she encountered, there was additional concern palpable in the air. Axle and some of his team were visible to everyone, so there was no denying it added to the tension of the small crowd. For all they knew, his men could be part of the group who bombed the area. Their presence definitely made her job harder.
Okay, technically, she wouldn’t even be able to out here if it wasn’t for them, but whatever.
Working with the interpreter, she’d cajoled the villager into letting her speak to the older woman. When he agreed, it was for Caitlin to go to her, and not the other way around. She had no choice but to agree.
The uncle led Caitlin, Lorenzo, and Asad into their home to talk to his wife. When she got in, she woman was visibly shaken. She introduced herself calmly and tried not to seem too intimidating.
“Ask her where she was when she saw the men,” she said to Asad. He repeated her question in Pashto.
The woman glanced to her husband. He motioned his approval, and she replied.
Asad translated, “In the field near the goats.”
Good. “And how many men did you see?”
“Nine.”
“Your husband said you spoke to one. Is that correct?” she asked softly, hoping the lady be able to understand her demeanor even though the words wouldn’t be immediately clear.
“Yes.” She nodded again as Asad translated.
“What did he say to you?”
Suddenly, the woman became animated, saying what seemed like quite a lot. Caitlin could feel the excitement and glanced at Asad several times, but he kept his focus on the local until she finished speaking.
She paused, and Asad turned to Caitlin. “He said to go back to the village and not come out until morning. It wasn’t safe to meet mother.” Asad used air quotes on the last word. The woman had a confused expression on her face, but Caitlin understood the message loud and clear.
“How many days was this before the air strike?”
“Two. Yes, two days.”
“Did he say anything else?”
The woman nodded before she spoke, but before Asad translated, he asked her something. They talked back and forth before Asad focused on Caitlin. “He asked her if she’d seen anybody selling military weapons.”
“What?” Caitlin asked, rearing back. What did that have to do with anything? “Did she?”
“No. She just told me that one of the village men had been recruited i
nto ISIS, and he’d come back the week before the bombing. There was talk that he’d negotiated a deal with Americans for weapons.”
Her mouth fell open. “An American selling weapons to ISIS?”
Asad’s head bobbed side-to-side. “An American military man.”
What the… “Who was the buyer? The guy from the village, I mean.”
Asad began to translate her question, but a loud noise cut him off. Caitlin jumped at the sudden sound, and the other woman shrieked in fear.
“Caitlin,” Axle shouted from the front of the house. Relief flooded her it was only him. She turned to face his direction, ready to explain what she was doing, but before she could step out of what she likened to a den, he was right there. “What the hell are you doing?”
She pointed to the older lady, who was scrambling to stand behind her husband. “This woman spoke to someone in the military before the bombing.” Caitlin stopped short of the weapons details. She needed to get more information before she let that knowledge out. If someone in the military was actually selling arms to ISIS, that was huge.
It wasn’t just intel on the bombing. It was a scoop. Something bigger than she’d even dreamed.
Axle’s gaze shot to the woman. His eyes narrowed a bit before looking down to Caitlin. “I don’t give a fuck,” he said flatly. “You are not to leave my sight.”
“Sorry, but she wasn’t allowed to leave the house to speak to me. I had no choice.”
“I’ve been here the whole time,” Lorenzo said. Axle’s head whipped in his direction where he stood in the back of the room with his camera aimed at her and the locals.
“Stick to shooting video. Let me worry about the big boy stuff.”
Crap. Caitlin grabbed his shirt. “Hey. You don’t have to be rude, and you’re freaking them out,” she whispered heatedly. He grabbed her wrist and yanked it off him.
“Wrap it up. We’re done for the day.”
“But we’ve only been here a few hours.” She had to strike while the iron was hot! Once she left, they might not be willing to talk to her again.
“Done,” he repeated, and backed away. He crossed his stupid arms over his stupid chest and glared at her. She’d not known him long, but she knew him well enough not to hope he’d change his mind.
Caitlin shuffled over to Asad. “Tell them we have to leave, but we’ll be back tomorrow—”
“Nope,” Axle said, cutting in. “We’re dropping to another quadrant tomorrow. And we’re sure as shit not disclosing where ahead of time.” He looked at her like she’d lost her mind.
“Right,” she muttered, and looked at Asad. That made sense, not that she liked it. “Thank her for her time and let her know if I get a chance to come back and ask more questions, I’ll bring some fruit as an offering.”
Because she would be back. She didn’t know how she’d swing it, but this woman could be the only firsthand witness to the bigger arms story. No way was she leaving this conversation at that.
Once Asad finished relating her information, she smiled and nodded her goodbye before following Axle out of the house.
With each step farther and farther away, Caitlin got madder at him for shutting down her interview. He had no idea how hard it was getting people to talk…and that didn’t include the repressed class of women in this country. The fact that her husband had agreed to the interview and the lady actual told her some interesting information were both more than she expected to get this soon into her investigation. Especially after getting zilch from questioning the troops.
She wanted to bite his head off, but he was busy barking orders in his mouthpiece and listening with his ear thingy as he walked beside her toward the helicopter. As they got closer, the other men traveling with her materialized from various directions and converged around her. Once they all loaded in the aircraft, Axle reached for Caitlin’s the harness.
“I got it!” she yelled over the whirl of the propeller and grabbed for it instead. She did not need his help with anything.
He gently knocked her hands away and fastened her in before strapping into the seat beside her.
Within moments, they were airborne, and Caitlin’s anger soared with them. She kept her gaze locked away from the brute sitting beside her and stewed.
She had no problem with him protecting her, but she hadn’t been in any danger when he’d ordered their evacuation from the village. Caitlin knew how to follow rules. Heck, she understood why there were rules in the first place, but what he did was flex his authority muscle. Nothing else.
The return trip took as long as it had to get to Nangarhar this morning, but it felt like it only took minutes. When they landed, she ripped at her harness, and stomped off the aircraft before he could have a chance to free her.
“Caitlin,” he called after her.
She didn’t turn around. She knew they were going to load up into the same ATVs they’d arrived in that were parked nearby. He must’ve gotten the hint because he didn’t say anything else; rather, he let her storm off.
She climbed into the same seat she’d occupied that morning. Axle and others got in. She wasn’t sure who else rode with them this time, and she didn’t care to look. They’d jumbled around each time they’d gotten into a vehicle, but Axle was always with her.
Always. And when he wasn’t with her, it was always on his terms. Not hers. It was never Caitlin’s decision to be out of his eyesight. He demanded control.
Yeah, he was definitely the link to Hunter. He was too involved and too much like the bossy man she grew up with not to be the one he put on her.
Heather had commented that it could’ve been one of the other guys, but there was no way that was true. Axle was too invested in her protection—in her—not to be the one who had the most at stake here.
When they pulled up to the barracks, she hopped out, but her anger was a living thing. Before she thought better of it, she turned around and faced him. “I hope they sure as hell are paying you enough money to screw me over.”
He reared back as if she’d slapped him, but his expression quickly blanked before morphing into one of incredulity. “Nowhere near enough, baby. That’s for goddamn sure.”
Someone behind him snickered, and his face turned to stone. It was a look she was sure would instill fear in whoever caused it, but he didn’t look away from her. No doubt he would deal with the guy later once he was through putting up with Caitlin and her mouth. He wouldn’t have to wait long.
“I’m going to my room to make some calls to keep working on the story you just ripped me away from. I know it’s hard for you, but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t come barging in.”
She didn’t wait for a response. She was up the stairs before he replied, “You have until chow time.”
“Sir, yes, Sir!” she said mockingly before walking in and slamming the door.
She heard his barking commands from outside. She would’ve winced at how pissed he sounded if she wasn’t knee deep fury in it herself. She tossed her stuff down onto her bed and whipped the hijab off her head with an angry huff. She held in the scream that lodged in her throat. If she let it free, that…that…that jerk would come barging in.
She’d found him damn near irresistible before, and now she wanted to knee him in the balls like she’d learned how to do back in college.
“That sorry son of a bitch,” she muttered, stalking around her tiny room. She unlaced her shoes and kicked them off, a low growl escaping as the second one flew across the room and landed against the wall. She pulled her shirt off, leaving the tank on. It was hot, and dirty, and dry, and all of that miserableness just compounded her anger. If she could pummel him, she would. She should so march right back outside and go toe-to-toe with him. But the man was like a million times stronger than she was. She wasn’t an idiot, nor was she one to condone unnecessary violence. But the thought of inflicting pain eased a little of her fury.
Just a little.
It took several breaths before she could turn
to her notebook and begin scanning the information jotted down earlier. She groaned at how little there was as she dropped to the bed, but as soon as she landed, she yelped and shot up. Something stabbed into her leg. She looked at the blanket, fearing some desert-dwelling insect had stung her, and knowing if she had to go ask Axle for medical attention, she’d stay here and die a slow miserable death instead.
But it was much worse than some creepy crawly. That red haze from before? Oh, it was back as she stared down at Axle’s fancy shamancy tactical pen. He hadn’t asked for it back, and since she knew it could be used as a weapon, she hadn’t felt inclined to return it. She cursed it and him to the pits of hell and flung it across the room.
She needed to call her boss, but she was too frustrated to talk about work. Besides, it was about midnight back home. Too late for a meeting. She sent him an email instead, detailing what happened today and what information she’d come across. Crafting that correspondence helped her focus more on work and less on the warrior probably standing guard outside. Yes, this was exactly what she needed to be doing. After dinner, she would get with Lorenzo and start going over the footage they gathered. She’d have more for her segment tomorrow, hopefully some smaller pieces they could air whenever they wanted with some teaser shots for what was to come.
Once that was done, she pulled up her notes on the men she attempted to question on base, trying to find any connection between military personnel and who might’ve been in the village before the bombing. As she clicked through the pages, she kept glancing at the clock. It might’ve been too late to contact her boss, but the same rules of etiquette didn’t necessarily apply to friends.
Switching gears, she opened the social media platform she’d used to contact Hunter and Heather. Heather had messaged, but it was only chitchat. Caitlin responded in kind.
There was nothing from Hunter.
Still.
She spied the call icon and hesitated. It would be pretty late in Arkansas, but Hunter always was a night owl. Besides, she’d gone the asking-permission route and it hadn’t gotten her anywhere. Calling this late would fall into the asking-for-forgiveness side, but she was running out of options. She clicked on the call feature with the messaging app on Hunter’s profile.
