Field Stripped: 15 Steamy Military Romances

by Marissa Dobson

  Then they disappeared down the ridge which had served as an effective lookout. Stooped over double, Dec and Zack hiked directly on rocks, which was an uncomfortable way to travel, but ensured they'd leave no tracks behind.

  The woman, walking along the ridge, was clearly visible through the binoculars.

  She plodded toward them, her shoulders bowed, her eyes cast to the ground. There was something about her that kind of tweaked Dec's heart. Despite the all-enveloping burka, he could read weariness and sorrow in every line of her body.

  He continued to cast quick glances over his shoulder to follow her progress. She walked in a straight line, due east, and he figured she must be going to Sinjar, the largest town around here, and the only inhabited one. The mountainside villages that had been inhabited by the Yazidi minority sect in Iraq had been emptied out by the arrival of the black-garbed ISIS fighters a couple years ago. In a cruel and barbaric purge, the Yazidis had been driven from their homes into the inhospitable mountains where many had died of thirst and exposure. Those who hadn't fled had been captured, enslaved and/or executed. Many others had fled to the Kurdish controlled parts of Iraq, where they'd been protected, but herded into camps for their own safety.

  Suddenly, Dec froze.

  "Shit." His single word was quiet, but fierce. In the distance, two tall, moving smudges appeared. Through his binoculars, he could just make out their long, loose shirts, and the distinctive silhouette of rifles.

  Zack turned back, his eyebrows raised.

  "Two fucking hajjis are following her," Dec muttered.

  "These Muslim women have to have a male escort at all times," Zack pointed out.

  "These two aren't escorts. More like stalkers." Both men were more visible now, dressed head to toe in black, with face masks obscuring their features, and AK 47s slung over their shoulders. They were just far enough behind the woman that she would not be able to see them, but Dec had no problem with the binoculars. "They're not escorting her. They're following her."

  "What the fuck can we do about it? We're not out here to play knight in shining amour."

  "We can feel badly for her, I guess." Dec didn't know why the scene bothered him so much. As Zack had pointed out, there was nothing they could do. It wasn't like he could even see the woman. She was covered head to toe in one of those all-encompassing black things, with only her eyes visible. But the garment swayed gently as she moved and somehow made her look tall and leggy. He scoffed at the thought. One of the many things he couldn't see on this woman were her legs.

  "Could be a fuckin' guy under that niqab for all we know," Zack said. "We can't do anything but let them all go on their merry way."

  Dec nodded. That was a fact, but he didn't have to like it. His instinct told him that the two men meant to harm the woman, but he couldn't compromise his own mission by intervening in a situation about which he knew nothing.

  "As soon as we get out of sight, I want to call the guys," Zack added.

  The two other members of their team had gone on a short patrol to scope out their surroundings and look for local inhabitants who might be willing to provide them with information about what was happening on the ground here. Intel from afar was all well and good, but it was always best to verify info locally if possible. Their teammates were trained SEALs who certainly wouldn't stumble blindly upon this little trio of one woman and two tangos, but it wouldn't hurt to warn them that hostile people were about.

  "I don't want to leave the area," Dec said, "until the hajjis pass our blind." He never left things to chance if he didn't have to.

  Zack grunted in agreement. "The woman is safely past."

  "She was no fighter," Declan pointed out.

  "I think that must be the same woman we saw in the tent last night," Zack answered. "There can't be two such idiots wandering about here. Dam fool torpedoed our operation."

  "Only to save herself," Dec said, not knowing why he felt compelled to defend her.

  "She didn't save herself," Zack pointed out. "She's being followed by two armed terrorists, and I don't think they're going to play nice with her when they take her down."

  Silently, Dec agreed.

  The two tangos kept walking forward, exactly as if they were following in the woman's footsteps. They were dressed in the irregular black uniform that marked the ISIS fighter. It wasn't a normal uniform, but more of a threatening garb they put together to terrorize anyone who saw it. Declan had nothing but contempt for these men who warred, as far as he could tell, merely to propagate hatred and terror. He was pleased that the mission he was on with was to find and extract one of the top commanders of these terrorists. He would be proud to take on that kind of guy.

  On the other hand, he didn't feel good about watching this woman walk to her doom. There was something horrible about the way the two men stalked her. They were close enough now that Dec could see their faces through the binoculars. Despite the fact that he could only see their eyes over their face-concealing scarves, he could tell they were joking with each other. One of them pointed to the woman and the other made a crude gesture at his crotch.

  Yeah, they were going to rape her just as soon as they decided to attack, maybe when the sun finally dropped out of the sky in another half hour.

  Suddenly, Dec came to full attention. The two tangos had stopped walking. Right where he and Zack had just knocked over their blind. "Zack," he hissed. "Grab your eyes." Zack stopped walking, dropped to one knee, snatched up his binoculars and focused on the scene.

  The two tangos were scanning the horizon in all directions, turning in a slow circle. Declan and Zack didn't move as much as an eyelash. "They spotted our hide," Dec muttered under his breath.

  "They know the land," Zack whispered.

  Declan breathed out a sigh of relief that the mysterious woman might escape. That was the good news. The bad news was that he and Zack were now the tangos' target.

  "They probably don't have binocs," he said quietly to Zack. "Raise Geek and Harp and tell them our position is compromised, and we're on the move with two fighters in our sights."

  "We gonna take these guys out?" Zack angled his head uphill in the direction of the tangos.

  "Do we have a choice?"

  Zack shook his head. "They'll undoubtedly report to someone that they found a fighter's hide. We can't let that happen."

  The fact was, the two terrorists were undoubtedly more familiar with the territory than the SEALs were. That in itself wouldn't doom them. The SEALs would prefer not to engage with anyone on this mountain, as their number one goal was secrecy. If they could let the tangos pass on by, they would.

  But they had to protect the secret of their presence here in the Sinjar Mountains.

  Which meant they had to deal with these two right here and right now. And they had to do it while they still had a possible element of surprise on their side.

  Zack glanced up at the sun which was wheeling down behind the jagged range of claw-fisted mountains. "Best to wait for dusk if we can," he said.

  Declan nodded and the two of them fell in silently, retracing their steps, slowly cutting an angle to move back uphill so they'd be in a good position when they decided to attack. Their targets had picked up their pace, moving forward as if they hadn't spotted the blind.

  Anxiety stabbed Declan again. Maybe the woman wouldn't be safe. If the tangos weren't going to stop at the hide, she wasn't far enough ahead to escape them. She'd seemed oblivious of her pursuers and if they were closing in, she'd be in trouble. However, she must have gained ground while the men examined the hide so he'd hope for the best on her account.

  Dec and Zack finally worked their way behind the two men and into a position from which they could best attack. Their targets did look around every so often, as if aware that someone or something was on their trail, but Declan knew he couldn't be seen. He had the advantage of the binoculars, which the tangos did not have. Still, at some point, he and Zack would have to close in on their quarry. At that poi
nt, they would obviously be visible. He watched the two men with one eye, the orange disc of the setting sun with the other.

  They had maybe ten minutes until dusk would provide them with some cover. Tacitly, Dec and Zack closed some of the distance to the men. There was little real cover, except for a few large boulders and scrawny mulberry trees, but he noted them in case they needed to use them. Silently, they continued stalking.

  Suddenly, the black clad woman came into view again, far ahead of Dec, but not too far ahead of the tangos. Declan's heart sank. He'd hoped not to see her again, had hoped that she would have made her escape while he and Zack dealt with the jihadis.

  The tangos picked up their pace and he and Zack exchanged a look. Clearly, the tangos had decided this was the moment to attack the woman. It was a somewhat strange decision. They'd definitely realized someone had built that hide. The only people who would build a hide like that would be military men. So they should have tracked down that person or persons first, and then deal with the woman. She'd still be wandering around, an easy pigeon to pluck.

  Dec shrugged. Their stupidity, or lust for a vulnerable woman, would work to his advantage.

  He signaled to Zack to pick up the pace. It was time for them to close in.

  At that moment, the woman turned. Her body froze as she saw her pursuers. For one second she looked like an enormous bird of prey, about to take to the wind, her black garment swirling and gleaming in the rays of the dying sun. Then she turned forward, picked up her skirts and ran. Her gait was fast, but uneven, due to the abundance of rocks and pebbles covering the ground.

  Declan spared one thought to speed her on her way, even though he figured she'd fall at any moment. The tangos immediately put on speed. They had no intention of losing their prey. A guttural laugh trailed out behind them.

  The two SEALs tightened their grips on their rifles and launched a full bore pursuit. It was too late for stealth, but they didn't make a sound. Surprise could still be their friend.

  The tangos were fast. Dec knew he and Zack were better trained, and faster, but they had farther to go. His heavy pack weighed him down as they raced over the rock-strewn, granite-hard ground, but they'd trained in far worse conditions. The temperature was almost reasonable now that the sun was dying, If the woman hadn't turned around and spotted them, he and Zack would have had the time to move closer before attacking.

  As it was, he could only watch as the two men brought her down in a welter of black fabric, and a loud, full-bodied scream. Dec flew over a three-foot boulder, narrowly averted plunging into a gash in the ground and silently prayed that she'd fight at least for the few seconds they needed to reach her.

  She did.

  The tangos didn't manage to stop her screeching, but perhaps that was because they were making more of an effort to pull up her burka than anything else. They clearly didn't think there was anyone on the mountain who might come to her aid. All the while, she kicked and flailed with her arms.

  Just as one of the tangos pulled back his arm to deliver a crushing blow that might have shut her up permanently, the two SEALs landed.

  Declan's guy turned at the last second, finally aware that a mortal threat was upon him. But, since he'd been focused on his planned rape, he didn't have his gun in a position to use, and both Declan and Zack had their knives in their hands. It would have been easier to shoot the tangos from a distance, but they needed a quiet kill since they couldn't be sure who else might be within hearing distance of a shot on the mountain.

  At the last second, the tango grabbed the stock of his gun and swung out, landing a good hit on Declan's chin. Dec might have avoided the blow, except he had to go for the gun arm. He latched onto the tango's forearm as his target kicked out with his legs and landed another hard blow. Declan grunted, hung onto the arm, pulled up his knees and pressed his full weight upon his target. Since Dec had the eighty pound rucksack, plus another twenty pounds of additional gear on his body, plus his own body weight, he knew he outweighed the lightly armed tango by at least a hundred pounds. He used that to his advantage.

  Using his left hand, he punched hard against the guy's head and, and knocked him out. The rest was simply mopping up, a formality. Yeah, he knew how to use his hands on the guy's throat to silence him forever. A few seconds. It was done.

  With scarcely a thought for the dead man, Dec dropped the lifeless head into the dirt, stood up and looked around for the woman. Damn, she must have started running as soon as he jumped the tango. In the deepening dusk, he could barely see her but they couldn't afford to lose her. Who knew where she'd rouse an alarm.

  At least she'd stopped screeching, and he was grateful for that. If her initial screaming hadn't alerted other jihadis who might be about, they might have a chance of getting out of this cluster-fuck without drawing a full-scale attack.

  He raced over the hard ground, cursing the rocks in his path and the load on his back.

  The woman had a good start on him, and she was showing more speed that he expected. Still, he didn't doubt the outcome of this race. There was simply no place for her to hide on this barren mountainside. He gained on her, slowly, but surely. She didn't waste time looking back at him, but he was sure she knew he was chasing her. He felt a twinge of pity for her. She couldn't know that he meant no harm. But he couldn't have her telling anyone what she'd seen, either.

  Finally, she turned. She had to have heard him close on her heels. It was fucking annoying that he couldn't see her face, but her eyes stabbed him with an emotion he couldn't name. He saw fear, but also determination and anger and a kind of straightforwardness that he didn't expect from a Muslim woman. They didn't normally look directly at a man. Interesting. She seemed—feistier, that was the word he wanted—than any burka-clad woman he'd ever encountered.

  Of course that didn't stop him from flinging himself on top of her, hard. He intended to knock the breath out of her but at the last second, he turned so that he landed on the ground first and she fell over on top of him.

  Damn. That hurt.

  Declan was surprised she didn't utter as much as a squeak. But he could feel the tension in her body as he clamped her to him, her arms pinioned, her head butted against his chest. She wriggled against him, trying to get free and he tightened his arms.

  A wave of supremely inappropriate, and unwanted, lust, swept through him. What the fuck? He had never, ever, felt sexual attraction for these burka-clad women. Who could? That was the whole point of the yards of flapping black material.

  His eyes accidentally met hers, and something flashed between them. He muttered the Arabic word for 'friend', one of the few words he knew. "Be still," he said into her ear. "We won't hurt you."

  She suddenly went limp, so perhaps she understood some English. He loosened his arms a bit. No point in scaring her. They'd need information if they could get it.

  Carefully, he rolled her off him and began to rise.

  She screamed. He clapped his hand over her mouth. With force. The sound ended as if he'd flipped a switch, but then pain blossomed in his hand.

  She'd bitten him.

  Cursing, he flipped her over, and pressed on the back of her head with enough force that her mouth was against the ground. "Don't make a sound," he snapped, "unless you want to continue eating dirt, or worse."

  Of course, he doubted that she understood his words, but he figured the threatening tone of his voice might get through to her. Still, he eased up on her head. Her scent was distracting him. Beneath the dust and the heat of the fading day, he smelled something mysterious that reminded him of exotically perfumed harem women in colorfully flowered gardens... waiting for the sultan.

  He almost laughed. Unfortunately for him, he was no sultan.

  He grabbed a pair of plastic zip ties and cuffed her, failing deliberately to pull the ties as tight as he should have. Later, he would know that's when he made his first mistake, letting his softness for women betray him. Easing up on her because she smelled so good was a dumb
move.

  Next, he rolled her over, glancing from the top of her black scarf, down past the veil cloaking most of her face, and over the shapeless black mass of her burka. What a sight. Her eyes, once again, flashed at him, with a boldness that was definitely at odds with the conservative clothing she wore.

  He stood up slowly, keeping his attention on her. What the fuck should he do with her?

  He'd have to leave her lying on the ground while he returned to Zack. With her hands cuffed, it would be hard for her to stand up, especially with the large backpack she seemed to be wearing under her burka. She'd be able to do it, but it would take her several minutes, and by then he and Zack would be back to deal with her.

  "Stay here," he growled at her, frowning and gesturing to the ground so she'd know what he meant.

  She glared at him.

  Big deal. His lips even twitched with amusement. He had plenty of experience making women angry.

  He was almost positive about one thing. This was the same woman they'd seen in the terrorist camp last night. He couldn't be one hundred percent sure since he'd only seen her eyes. But his instinct rarely failed him.

  And he had plenty of reason to be angry with her for ruining his op last night.

  He ran back to Zack, leaving her alone.

  * * *

  The last piercing rays of the sun finally sank below the horizon. In the darkness, Dec couldn't see what Zack was doing until he was almost on top of him. The second tango was flat on the ground, face down, fully under Zack's control.

  "Could use a hand," Zack called out calmly. "We need to question him."

  Declan nodded. He'd been foolish to lose his head in a red rage when he saw the tangos jumping the woman. Rape was something that didn't sit well with him. But Zack was right. He should have left the guy alive so they could get information from him.

  Dec squatted down next to the man. "Doubt he speaks English."

  "We're gonna find out." Zack rolled their prisoner over and pressed the edge of his knife against the guy's throat. "Say something in English," he ordered. "Prove you can be useful."