by Stewart, Anna J. ; Sasson, Sophia; Carpenter, Beth; Jensen, Muriel
The guys laughed. “You’re brothers in a spiritual sense, not biologically connected.” Alessa clarified, even though she knew they understood. The details were too important to assume anything. “And remember that Dan is also a spiritual brother.”
“Parrino, can you go over the covers again? I don’t think I quite understand even after you’ve given us color-coded sheets, sent it out in email, downloaded them to our phones and explained it three times.” Rodgers said.
The guys laughed and Alessa flicked a piece of broccoli at Rodgers. It was good-natured fun and she didn’t mind at all. It meant she was truly part of the team.
“Take it easy on her, guys, she’s just trying to do her job.”
He did not just say that. Alessa glared at Luke. Rodgers exchanged glances with Boots, and Dan smirked.
As if realizing his mistake, Luke cleared his throat. “Got to switch to a serious topic for a minute. Have you all taken care of your personal business?”
The guys fell silent. Rodgers was the first to speak. “Ethan made us go round and say what’s what in case something happens. So the rest of us make sure our families are okay.”
Luke sat up straighter. “What did Ethan say that last time you did this?”
Rodgers took a breath and looked at Boots and Steele. The men nodded. Rodgers turned back to Luke. “Ethan said if something happened to him, you’d take care of everything that needed taking care of and we didn’t have to worry about his affairs. He told us to make sure the unit continued without him.”
Luke picked up his soda can and took a big swig, but Alessa didn’t miss the shine in his eyes.
“I’ll start,” Rodgers said, saving Luke from having to respond. “My wife already got half of everything in the divorce, so I don’t have much in the bank and no real assets. Talked to her yesterday and told her I was deploying. She told me it’s getting serious with the new guy in her life and she wants to move on. Asked me not to call her anymore. So no need to notify her if something happens.”
Boots was sitting next to Rodgers and slapped him on the back. “Well, I’ve got my will squared away. My sister and her son get everything if something happens to me. I talked to her today. My nephew started chemo a month ago—it’s hard on them, but they’re getting through it. If something happens to me, make sure the army processes my death benefits fast. I get the feeling his treatments are gonna be more than what my sister’s insurance will cover.”
Everyone nodded and Alessa got the feeling that if something did happen to Boots, everyone on the team would bankrupt themselves to make sure his nephew got the treatments he needed.
“My will’s good, too,” Dimples said. “Talked to the kids today. Mickey is gonna join the chess club, God help him. I’m gonna see if I can pay for karate lessons for that kid. I mean, what fourth grader wants to join chess? Isabel is giving her mother a hard time.” He shook his head. “The girl’s in sixth grade and Emmy says it’s a daily struggle with clothes, shoes, cellphone… She even wants to start wearing makeup. The good news is that Lizzy is finally potty-trained.” His voice was full of pride, as if he were announcing that one of his kids had won the Nobel Prize, but none of the guys teased. They sat and listened and Dimples didn’t bother to hide the tears welling in his eyes. “If something happens to me, Emmy’s gonna need a hand. I love that woman, but she doesn’t know how to change the oil in her car or fix the garbage disposal when it gets jammed. And she doesn’t know how to teach a ten-year-old boy to deal with bullies at school. She’s gonna need all that.”
Once again everyone nodded, including Alessa. The team was a family and they were going to take care of each other no matter what.
It was Alessa’s turn, and suddenly all eyes were on her. She swallowed. What was she supposed to say? “I have a will. My sister gets what little I have in my bank account. Julia can take care of herself, but I guess I would appreciate someone checking in on my mom. Make sure she’s okay.” Alessa could feel Luke’s eyes on her, but she wasn’t going to say more.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she’s okay.” Luke said, his voice thick. The group fell silent and Alessa focused on scooping up noodles with her chopsticks to avoid looking at any of them.
“Y’all don’t have to worry about me,” Steele drawled. “The second wife got what the first one didn’t. Can’t buy any of you a cup of coffee with what’s in my bank account. What I do have, I’m giving to the Wounded Warrior Project.”
“What about your parents or siblings?” Alessa asked.
Steele laughed mirthlessly. “Mom was a crack addict who didn’t know who my dad was. She overdosed when I was ten. I bounced around foster care until I turned eighteen, then I enlisted.”
Alessa wanted to say more but it was clear Steele was done talking and the guys already knew the story. Dan was next. “My dad left me a hunting lodge when he died. That’s the only real thing I got. Mom doesn’t want it, so I’m leaving it to my ex-wife, Clarissa. My death benefits go to my mom. She’s getting up there in age and is probably going to need them for nursing home care if I’m not around.”
“Man, why you gonna leave the lodge to your ex? You’ve got a brother right here who loves hunting and fishing.” Steele thumped his chest.
Dan smiled. “She loves that place.” What he didn’t add but was clear in his face was and I still love her.
All eyes turned to Luke, including her own. He chewed on a piece of pizza. His blue eyes clouded over, the small laugh lines by his mouth becoming more pronounced as he spoke. “My death benefits and assets will go to various charities. Dad will handle my financial affairs. I need you guys to find out what happened to Ethan.”
It was the white elephant in the room. A weight descended on all of them. “We got you covered.” Rodgers said softly. “That’s on all of our lists.”
Luke’s eyes met Alessa’s and she understood what he meant without him needing to say it. He wasn’t ready to share his suspicions with the guys.
Steele stood and brushed the crumbs off his pants. “Okay, now that we’ve all Kumbaya’d together, it’s time to get real.” Steele left the pit and the guys all grinned. Again, Alessa’s eyes found Luke’s. Clearly they were about to witness another unit tradition.
Steele returned a minute later holding a stack of clear plastic cups and a fancy crystal decanter.
Luke’s eyes widened. “Please tell me that is not Colonel McBride’s.”
Steele grinned, his face transformed into that of a mischievous little boy. “Okay, I won’t tell you that. What I will tell you is that this is a Glenlivet twenty-one-year-old archive.” Rodgers took the plastic cups and handed them out while Steele lifted the top off the decanter and took a whiff of the scotch inside. “Full malt, hints of chocolate, citrus, vanilla and smoke.” He poured a good-sized portion into his glass and took a sip, closed his eyes and swallowed after a few seconds. He opened his eyes. “Perfection.”
There were several chuckles in the group. Rodgers took the bottle from him. “If you’re done making love to the scotch, maybe we can all have a sip.” Once everyone had some in their cups, Rodgers raised his arm. “Here’s to the soldier who fights and loves—may he never lack for either.”
They raised their cups and tapped them against each other.
Alessa caught Luke’s gaze and she read her thoughts in his eyes.
If I screw up, a lot of lives will be ruined.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE PLAN WAS to take a military jet into Afghanistan, then cross the border in teams of two and three. The official plane manifest showed no passengers on board. The pilot and copilot were used to this, assuming this was a black ops unit. Still, Alessa didn’t want to take a chance flying them directly into Pakistan, so they would walk into the country through illegal border crossings. Each unit member wore local Pashtun clothing under their camouf
lage ACUs; a long tunic kameez and harem-like pants called salwar. For her part, she would add a head-to-toe burka.
Alessa had been raised Catholic but she wasn’t practicing. Now she said a small prayer for the team. She’d signed up for the army because it was disciplined and regimented. She knew what she had to do and how to do it. While the extraordinariness of the unit excited her, it also scared her. What if she made the wrong choice and got one of the guys killed? While logistics was considered the kiss of death for most soldiers, it was mission-critical. Soldiers needed a safe place to stay, somewhere they could sleep at night so when they put their lives in danger, they could do so with a clear head and well-rested body. And logistics for this kind of unit was not exactly normal army logistics. Something as simple as how they got into Pakistan, a country they would have normally flown or helicoptered into, was going to be a death-defying exercise.
She had worked with Rodgers on the plan to split up and enter the country in different locations. While Rodgers worked on the routes, she had come up with the supplies they’d need. Crossing the border from Afghanistan into Pakistan made the Mexico–US border look like child’s play. She’d agonized over every decision with Rodgers, who despite having four operations with the unit under his belt was still tentative.
“Okay, ten minutes to wheels down.” Luke announced after checking the altimeter. Without another word, they all unharnessed their belts and stretched before finding their designated crate and climbing into it. They were going be carried out in crates that were supposed to be full of MREs and stacked in a warehouse. The crates did have MREs inside; just enough for each of them to throw over themselves in case someone pried open the lid. Alessa and Rodgers nailed the boxes shut on their team members.
“Okay, Luke, you go in before Rodgers and I close up.” Alessa had rigged one of the crates so she and Rodgers could get in and nail it shut from the inside. It required one person to hold the lid down by running their fingers in between the slats while the other person secured it with a nail gun. Alessa was the only one whose fingers were small enough to go between the slats, which was why she and Rodgers had to share.
“I’m going in your crate.” Luke said firmly. Before she could protest, he motioned to Rodgers, who reluctantly got into the box meant for Luke. Alessa stared open mouthed as Luke nailed Rodgers in. She had spent hours meticulously calculating the size of each crate and team member to make sure everyone fit and would have enough air given all sorts of stacking scenarios. And Luke had just made a snap decision. He was six inches taller than Rodgers and his backpack was exactly two inches wider and one pound heavier. What’s wrong with him?
Luke was already in their box and waving impatiently at her. I don’t really have a choice. The plane was descending; they didn’t have time to argue. She got into the crate, taking as little space as possible, trying her best to leave enough room so Luke wouldn’t have to touch her.
She and Luke were face-to-face, on their knees with barely half an inch of space between them. Not seeming to notice their close proximity, Luke gestured for her to pull the lid over their heads. Alessa reached up, trying not to pay attention that doing so brought their chests into contact. Sucking in a breath, she stuck her fingers between the slats and tugged the lid until it fell into place. Luke deftly secured it with the battery-operated mini pneumatic nail gun she’d handed him. While he might not have appreciated that little detail, she’d spent several hours scouring websites and home improvement stores to find a gun that would leave enough clearance to use it inside the crate and still have nails long enough to secure the lid, but not so long that it would be difficult to open.
She, not Luke, had agonized over all these details, and yet he had made the quick decision that it would be okay to switch boxes on her. She had even measured Rodgers’s arm length to make sure he could operate the gun. What if Luke hadn’t been able to do it? Was the entire mission going to be this haphazard?
The plane dropped suddenly as the pilot descended toward Bagram Airfield. Given that they were flying into what was still a war zone, the pilots tended to stay high and drop as close to the airfield as possible to maximize the amount of time they were out of range of handheld surface-to-air missiles. Despite her best attempts at keeping her back pressed against the side of the crate, Alessa tumbled forward into Luke. Her breath stuck as she registered his arms around her, his lips close to her cheek. She didn’t like him being so comfortable in her personal space. Pushing against him, she slammed against the other side of the crate and pulled her legs up to her chest.
“You okay?” Luke’s voice was so soft that she barely heard him.
“Yes,” she squeaked out, feeling sheepish at the overreaction. Having served for almost seventeen years, she was used to being in close quarters with men. She had been in transport trucks where she was practically sitting on a strange man’s lap, in trenches and alleyways where she was pressed so close against her colleagues she couldn’t tell where her body stopped and theirs began. The bulky roughness of the ACUs helped create a barrier in her mind. Not that the physical proximity didn’t take getting used to, but she was no stranger to these types of situations. She had learned to accept and deal with them. Even in cases where fellow soldiers weren’t as gentlemanly as they should be. So why was it so difficult with Luke?
“Why did you switch crates?”
Normally she would never question a superior officer, but Luke had made it clear it was a unit expectation, so for once she didn’t have to bite her tongue.
“I thought it might be a good time for us to talk about the mission.”
It was a good point, one she had thought of when she’d planned this part but had immediately dismissed the idea when she’d realized that they could be stuck in the creates for hours. Bagram wasn’t exactly known for its efficiency; they could be waiting forever for someone to offload the crates.
“I’m all ears,” she said easily. Truth be told, it had been grating on her that she didn’t know exactly what he was planning, and more importantly, what her role might be in terms of helping Luke find his brother.
“You did well analyzing those satellite photos. I looked into everyone that had ever been connected to that safe house and wouldn’t you know it, our target—Azizi—was held there.”
She gasped. Their current mission was to capture and interview Azizi. The man was a senior Taliban leader and the unit members suspected he might be working with a traitor in the army. If Azizi had something to do with Ethan’s death, then he would expect the unit to come after him.
Ice seeped through her veins and she hugged herself tighter. Whoever had taken or killed Ethan was probably going to attack Luke, maybe even the whole team. If one of the unit men was involved, it would be even worse. It was more important than ever that everyone follow her plan. On Luke’s instructions, the mini-teams only had their own travel instructions, not each other’s. If one group was apprehended, they wouldn’t be able to reveal the locations of the other members. She had to tell Luke that he couldn’t change plans on her last-minute again. From what she’d read about him—and seen in the few hours since the start of the mission—he was impulsive.
She leaned forward, and just as she did, the plane dropped precipitously. She reached out to grab onto something but her head hit the top of the box. As the thud reverberated through her, flashes of light danced before her eyes. She felt the comforting warmth of muscled arms envelop her, squeezing her tight.
Her shoulder sparked with pain and she bit her tongue from crying out. Luke held on to her, preventing her from moving as the box shifted. Her face was buried in his chest and she moved so she could see what was going on. That was a mistake. Her nose was now touching Luke’s, her lips a hair’s breadth away from his. His hands moved down her back. He was loosening his hold, but she sat frozen on his lap, unable to look away from the slight parting of his lips, wondering if he would kiss h
er.
She tilted her head just a fraction so their noses were no longer touching.
“Alessa.” It was the way he said her name, the whisper of warm breath across her face and neck. Something ignited inside of her and for the first time in her life, she refused to plan or think it through. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.
Just as their lips touched, the plane landed hard on the tarmac and both Luke and Alessa were momentarily lifted. Reflexively, Luke placed his hand above Alessa’s head, cushioning the bump, while his head took the brunt of the hard knock that came.
The plane taxied for a few minutes and Alessa scrambled as far away from Luke as she could get in the small space. As if sensing her discomfort, he too seemed to fold into himself. Their eyes locked and a thousand words passed between them.
She finally said a few of them out loud. “We need to stay away from each other.”
CHAPTER NINE
PREDICTABLY, THEY WERE still sitting in the crates at Bagram. At least an hour had passed since they’d landed. This was not unusual. Alessa had been quiet the entire time and Luke dared not speak or get any closer to her. Had she kissed him or had he kissed her? He couldn’t tell. Luke had never had trouble holding limits with women. Yet when he had Alessa in his arms, it had taken every molecule of self-control to keep it professional. And he’d failed miserably. She was a soldier in his command. He was responsible for her safety and well-being. More importantly, he needed to be totally mission-focused. Including his brother, seven lives depended on him.
Unlike his past commands, he was solely in charge here. For other operations he’d led, there had always been a higher officer who helped him plan and monitored his moves. There was no safety net with this unit.
Ethan had designed the unit to compartmentalize information. The army leaked like a sieve, and despite Ethan’s best attempts to keep the existence of the unit secret, word had already trickled out that there was a special unit rooting out traitors. But no one had any idea what their area of focus was. Not even Colonel McBride.
