Field Stripped: 15 Steamy Military Romances

by Marissa Dobson

  They found two men in the next room, and only one girl. She didn't respond when Dec and Harp disposed of those men. She was either in shock, or too beaten down to be aware of anything that was going on. Her eyes watched them leave, but she didn't even reach for her clothes.

  Dec and Zack cleared each room they came to, Dec with his heart in his throat as he wondered where, and in what condition, he would find Laila. If she was dead, he wouldn't be able to bear it.

  In one room on the second floor they found three women, possibly in their twenties, lying on the floor, wrapped head to toe in burkas, sleeping. Although Dec and Zack made little noise, one of the women awoke and stared for a moment before closing her eyes quickly, as if trying to pretend she was still asleep.

  Dec felt a qualm of pity lick through his fear. She undoubtedly thought they were here to rape her.

  In another room, they found a young woman tied to a cot while a man raped her. Her eyes showed only terror when she saw Dec and Zack in the doorway. Dec didn't wait for the piece of shit to reach for his own gun before he shot him. Then he took two seconds to reach for his knife and cut the cords that bound the poor woman.

  They met up with Harpo and Greg in the center of the second floor.

  "Did you find Laila?"

  They both shook their heads.

  "Fuck! Where is she?"

  He saw the other two men look at Zack, and Dec knew what they were thinking. He was too focused on Laila, and it was hurting their mission.

  "What about Behaid?" Zack asked.

  "Not here," Greg said. "I guess you all didn't find him?"

  "Negative," Zack answered.

  "Fuck." Declan kicked the wall. "This is a clusterfuck if I've ever seen one."

  "We did send a lot of hajjis to Allah," Harp said. "Not a moment too soon, either."

  The other men remained silent. There was little to say except the ugly truth no one wanted to verbalize.

  They'd lost Laila.

  They hadn't found Behaid.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  "Come on, Zack." Dec jerked his head toward the stairs. "There are a couple outbuildings out back. Let's go."

  Zack wiped a hand over his brow and followed. Greg and Harp remained in the house to settle the women, most of whom were either in shock or hysterics.

  From the house, Dec scanned the back yard, a dirt ground littered with rocks. Two outbuildings, shacks really, stood lopsidedly at right angles to each other. Unlike the main house which was made of stone, they were constructed of weathered wood, warped so that gaps showed between many of the boards. For a moment, he and Zack watched for signs of life, but saw no movement.

  They'd barely moved toward the first outbuilding, when Laila's voice called out. Dec ran. The door hinges screeched as she opened the broken-down door. Dec had never seen anything as wonderful as the sight of her standing there.

  He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her as he'd never hugged anyone in all his life. For the first time since she'd left him early this morning, his heart settled down to a steady beat.

  "Laila. Laila." He ran his hands over her head. Even covered by the niqab as she was, he still needed to touch her. "What are you doing here? What happened? I couldn't find you." He hugged her closer, to make sure she was real.

  "We left. As soon as I found Alyssa, we snuck out of that horrible place. Everyone was sleeping or—" She stopped and tears fill her eyes. But she tilted her head back, as if determined not to cry. "It was hell on earth, Declan," she whispered. "Hell on earth."

  "I know," he murmured, still stroking her head. "I know. I didn't know what happened to you. I was terrified."

  "I heard the shooting. Did you kill them?" she hissed. "Every single one! Did you?"

  Dec stroked her hair. "Calm down, Laila. Do you really want to know?" Shit, that's all he needed right now was get the pacifist in her stirred up.

  She looked down at Alyssa. "She needs to know. But only if the answer is yes. If it's no, you shouldn't be here. You should be finishing the job."

  His mouth gaped. "You wanted me to kill them?"

  "Tell me, Dec." She pounded his arm.

  He sighed. "Yes."

  "How many?"

  He raised his brows. "Among the four of us, Laila, we killed them all."

  "I wanted to hurt them. I had visions of grabbing their guns while they were—engaged—and shooting them. But I had to get Alyssa out of there. That's all I could think of."

  Zack was signaling him with his eyes, and Dec knew he had to pay attention. They hadn't secured all of the property. He stepped away from Laila. "Wait just a second. Zack and I have to clear the other building."

  She smiled at him, a thin, anxious smile. "We'll be here."

  They verified that the other shack was empty and returned to the open door where Laila waited. As Dec stepped over the threshold, Zack said, "I'm going to go help the guys. You catch up with your lovebird."

  "I'll be five minutes," Dec said. "We still haven't accomplished our mission."

  "No shit." Zack gave him a half-salute and jogged back to the main house.

  Laila grabbed his hand. "Look, Dec." She knelt down next to a heap of rags he'd scarcely noticed. "My sister. She's hurt."

  He squatted down on his haunches. But he couldn't see anything. The poor thing had a dirty scarf flung over her head and her face was buried, he presumed, inside her arms, which were themselves buried in a dirty burka.

  "Will she let me look at her? We all have basic medical training."

  "I think it's best to leave her alone for now. She's so traumatized."

  Dec nodded. "Hello, Alyssa," he said gently to the bundle of rags. "I'm Declan Moriarty. I want to tell you that every man that was on this property today is dead now." He paused, and then added, "I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

  Laila leaned down to the pile of rags to listen to something. When she raised her head, her eyes were bleak. "She says the leader was not there today."

  "Ask her if the leader wears an eye patch," Dec said. "And is missing a pinkie finger."

  Laila gasped. "That's your HVI? The man who had me in the tent?"

  Dec nodded, as a thin hand emerged from the pile of rags and clutched Laila's burka. Laila leaned down again to listen.

  "Yes," she reported. "That's the guy. He hasn't been here in more than a month. But he's expected soon." Her eyes were wide with stunned disbelief.

  Dec nodded calmly, anxious not to escalate the tension. "We need to get you out of here."

  "How did you find me, Dec?" Laila met his gaze. "You followed me, didn't you?"

  He hesitated for a long moment and that silence was enough to tell her the truth. But he finally nodded. "You were our best lead, Laila."

  "But why? Why couldn't you tell me?"

  He glanced down at Alyssa. "I can't tell you military secrets, Laila."

  She stared at him. "All along you were heading to the brothel?"

  "All along," he answered, "you were coming to find your sister?" He captured her gaze. "Why didn't you just tell me from the beginning?"

  She dropped her eyelids. "I didn't want you to bring a battle to my sister. Exactly as you have done."

  "Is your sister hurt?" he challenged her.

  "Oh yes," Laila answered softly, "she is hurt. Badly."

  Dec's mouth tightened. "But not by our actions. Can't you give us any credit?"

  "Who else is hurt?" She raised her chin in challenge. "There were more than a dozen women and girls in that house."

  "None of them were harmed by us. Not one."

  Dec rose to his feet and looked down at her. "We're not wild west cowboys, Laila, running up and down Main Street, shooting anything that moves."

  She didn't answer, and then a pale face emerged from the ragged burka in Laila's lap. For the first time, Dec saw Alyssa's face as she whispered, "Thank you."

  She had the palest hair, like a cloud around her head. And Dec understood suddenly why Laila would hum "Edelweiss". She
was reminding herself of her sister.

  "You're welcome, Alyssa. I wish I could have been here sooner."

  While he was making impossible wishes, he wished he knew what he was going to do with these—

  "Is that another girl?" He'd barely noticed when he entered the small room that there was another child sitting on the dirt floor.

  She was small, maybe only ten or twelve. He couldn't bear to think about what she might have gone through. She had light brown hair in braids and she was convulsively stroking the end of one of them. Her thin face was dirty and her clothing ragged.

  Laila gazed at him helplessly. "She was in the room they threw me in. I had to bring her with me. I knew I couldn't go far anyway, because of Alyssa's condition. She can't travel. She's too weak. Too abused. So what was one more?"

  "Greg said they dragged you in the house?"

  "Yeah." She rolled her eyes. "Tough guys. Apparently a troop of them arrived this morning. I didn't even get a chance to tell them why I was there. Not that it mattered, because my only goal was to get the hell out."

  Laila's gaze met his, and he saw the plea there. "But what will I do now?"

  That was the question—Dec saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. In a flash, he was standing at the doorway, gun at the ready.

  Stunned, he watched a long-bearded, stooped and gnarled man with a cane approach..

  What the fuck was this?

  He heard Laila's voice say, "Dec?"

  The old man said, "Help," in garbled English.

  Dec's eyes narrowed, but he didn't relax his attention. This couldn't possibly be a trap, but—

  Something hit him from behind and burst through the doorway. Or tried to. Dec had her under his arm before she knew what happened.

  He looked down in surprise at the little girl.

  "Papa! Papa!" She was kicking Dec and shouting at the old man.

  Well, that answered one question. The guy was probably exactly what he appeared to be.

  Dec put her down and she raced over to the old man. They hugged for a long moment, the old man feebly patting her back. Then he held her away from him and peered into her face, asking her something. Dec thought the language was Kurdish.

  The girl shook her head, and looked down at the ground.

  The old man's frowning gray brows relaxed a bit.

  Dec didn't know what was going on, but he needed a translator. He held out a hand, gesturing for the guy to come into the shed. The girl said something, and then they both approached.

  "Soldiers?" the old man said to Dec. "American? Israeli?"

  Dec frowned. Israeli? These guys had strange dreams.

  Next the guy thumped his own chest. "Yazidi. Saed."

  Dec pushed open the door, and they entered the shack. Laila looked up. "Who's this?"

  The little girl burst into speech.

  "Can you translate, Laila," Dec said a bit desperately. He needed to be moving on.

  Laila's voice murmured the words so seamlessly, they almost seemed to come directly from the old man's mouth.

  "This is Saed and his granddaughter, who was abducted last night and brought to this brothel. He was able to discover this morning where the brothel was and he's been watching to find someone to help him free her. But no one comes. Just the Daesh." That last word was the one word Dec recognized, mostly because the man spat into the corner when he said it.

  "He begs you to help them," Laila added.

  Dec sighed. Just what he was afraid of. They simply couldn't help every local with a cause. That was a lesson quickly learned in any foreign theater.

  Saed spoke again, his gaze fixed on Dec's face, his words urgent.

  Laila translated. "He could not attack the men in the brothel. He has no weapon. More importantly, he could not die stupidly. He could not sacrifice himself stupidly, even to be a man. Who, then, would save his granddaughter?"

  Dec nodded. It could take more strength and courage to wait for the right moment to strike than to blindly strike out when success wasn't possible.

  "Listen—"

  Running steps sounded in the yard. Dec jumped for the door. It was Greg, frantic.

  "Zack's been injured. Badly."

  "What the fuck? We missed someone?"

  "Crazy woman," Greg said briefly. "Before we could gather up all the weapons, she grabbed one and shot it off. Doesn't matter. We need to evacuate him immediately. I've contacted the lieutenant and he's calling for a chopper."

  Dec turned back to Laila. "We're going to head back to Sinjar so an Air Force chopper can pick up Zack."

  "On foot?"

  "We don't have wheels," Greg said. "Our lieutenant is commandeering a truck right now which will meet us on the road. But we need to get moving. Any of the girls or women who can come with us can be rescued."

  "Rescued to where?"

  "Does it matter?" he asked impatiently. "They'll be better off anywhere other than this house of horrors. Can you organize them for us?" Greg took off.

  Laila bent over her sister and said a few words. Then she followed Dec back to the house, where he found that Harp and Geek had been busy. All of the females were gathered in the main room, dressed and fearful. Zack had been bandaged and made ready for transport.

  "I want you to explain that we're heading back to Sinjar on foot," Dec said to Laila. "The Air Force wants to be as close as possible to friendly territory so they can get Zack out of here safely. If these women want to be evacuated by chopper, there should be room for all of them."

  Laila nodded, but he could see that her face was drawn with tension, and fear sparked in the back of her eyes.

  "Alyssa can't go," she said.

  Dec put his hands on her shoulders. "I won't be leaving with the chopper, Laila. We'll come back for you and the children."

  "I wouldn't ask for me." Her bottom lip trembled. "But the children—"

  "I wish I could take them now," he answered. "But their current injuries are not life threatening, and Zack's are. He has to be my first priority. I simply can't carry them plus Zack."

  She nodded. "I understand."

  "Wait in the shed. I need to know where you are."

  She nodded again. "If we can, we'll stay there."

  His eyes met hers, and he felt the same fear he saw there. They couldn't know if any fighters would appear here before Dec could return.

  "I'll find you," Dec said. "Wait for me."

  Laila spoke quickly in Kurdish to the women, who'd crowded around her, their eyes still big with terror. They remained silent, and their very silence bothered Dec. Clearly, they'd been trained into utter subservience.

  But when Dec and Geek hefted Zack in his makeshift cot and headed for the door, every one of the women followed. He didn't know what Laila had said, but when they got to the road, the two men started off at a slow jog, working hard to keep the cot stable. Harp jogged alongside them, holding an IV bag. The women, without complaint, lifted up their burkas, and ran after them.

  Laila watched Dec leave. Her thoughts whirled senselessly. Dec had followed her here. She wanted to be angry, and there was a flicker of fury somewhere within her. But their situation was so dire that there was simply no room for anger. Of course, the arrival of the SEALs had destroyed her plan to grab Alyssa and return to Sinjar and throw herself on the mercy of the Kurds.

  But the little voice in her brain that insisted on honesty whispered that she never would have made it back to Sinjar without help. Alyssa was too damaged, barely able to walk. Even if she got to Sinjar, how would she have gotten the Kurds to help her?

  She glanced around the shed, feeling trapped.

  They were in a precarious spot, hiding on the grounds of an ISIS brothel. How long would it be before other ISIS men discovered what had happened here this morning? They would surely come to investigate. Who knew how many men would be visiting the brothel, not knowing what had happened here on this bright morning? And, oh, how she knew the sun could shine brightly on the worst
evil. Nature didn't care what humans did to each other. Many humans didn't care, either. She recognized that fact belatedly. No amount of kindness or peacefulness or hard work would turn an evil man into a good man.

  She'd been determined not to rely on military men. But now that Dec and his teammates were gone, she wished desperately that they were still here. People who would do what she'd seen in this brothel would never be changed by education or persuasion. They were evil. They enjoyed evil. They would find and enact evil wherever they could, unless they were stopped by stronger men.

  Unfortunately, those stronger men would need weapons. It was a bitter pill for her to accept, after the tenacity with which she'd embraced pacifism. Her principles had been superseded by reality.

  She sat down and tried to comfort Alyssa and Aveen. She didn't think the grandfather believed her lies, but she told the girls that Dec and the other men would return for them.

  Behaid and his terrorists found them first.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Thank God the lieutenant had come in two trucks. Dec knew he was in hot water with his boss right now, but he also knew that the lieutenant's men could count on him when the chips were down. They loaded Zack into one of the trucks, and it took off, with a Navy Corpsman attending to Zack.

  West stood on the dusty road, surveying the ragged troop of women who were still straggling up. He sighed. "Always the civilians to deal with."

  "Yeah," Harp said. "But they remind us of why we're fighting."

  West flicked him a glance, but didn't answer. It was such a non-Harp comment. But true.

  West turned to Dec. His blue eyes were as cold as ice chips. "I gather," he said, "that you still don't have Behaid."

  "Not yet. Sir."

  "Do you have a plan?"

  "I need to return to the cathouse and rescue that woman we brought through the mountains."