Shatterproof

by Jo Chambliss

  Once we get started up the face, we realize that it’s going to be a tougher go than anticipated. The mountain face is covered with a thick layer of ice. Without immediate access to the clefts and crevices in the rock, we’re having to bore holes in the ice for our anchors. It’s a grueling, sustained climb made harder by the complete darkness.

  The mountain is a bitch, but we won’t be stopped. Periodically, we take a break to rest quivering muscles and rehydrate. The air is so dry here that every breath you take feels like it’s drying your insides out.

  This mission just further proves the adage that the only easy day was yesterday.

  By the time we reach the ridge, we’ve had to replace the battery packs in our panoramic night vision goggles. I’ve never run out of juice before, but then, crossing that mountain face took two hours longer than I’d hoped.

  It’s now been fourteen hours since we jumped from the plane, and we’re finally in position to recon the location of the mercs and exploratory crew. Located on the mountain’s south ridge, Devil and Hawk remove their sniper rifles and use their NV scopes to look for our targets.

  “Contacts at roughly two miles. We’ve got a fire, but it doesn’t appear to be destructive. I’ve got seven contacts visible,” Devil reports.

  “I concur,” from Hawk.

  “We had seven scientists and support personnel, and there were five mercs. Where the hell is everyone else?” The boat. “Hawk, check out the enemy boat.”

  “No signatures detected.”

  “All right. We’re two miles out. We’ll climb up the ridge and cross at that high plateau.” Pointing to the thumbnail shaped knoll, I add, “Let’s head for that lowering between the two knolls right above the beach area. That should be a perfect scout location.”

  Turning to Skin, I say, “Elevator going up,” to which he adds in a mocking voice, “Third floor: hot coffee and warm blankets.”

  Three hours later, we’ve made it into position above the scientists’ campsite. After seventeen hours of hard climbing in the dark in sub-zero temperatures, muscle fatigue is becoming a concern. Since there is currently no activity on the boat or on the shore, I order the men to sack out for three hours. That puts go time at 0330 local time.

  “Twenty-minute watch shifts in the regular order.”

  My watch is first. During that time, I study the layout below. There are three tents positioned in a semi-circle around the fire. The attackers’ boat is anchored about one-hundred yards offshore. There’s a small boat near the camp that must have been used by the assault team to reach the island. I feel my lips turn up in a smile. I know exactly what we’re going to do.

  As the last one to stand watch, Hawk wakes me up at the three-hour mark. He and I wake the rest of the team, and I start going over the plan. “Devil, Wrench, Skin, and Bandaid, I want you to raft your way to the ship and board her. Tow their skiff with you to keep anyone onshore from using it. Your priority is to disable her communications in case anyone is on board.”

  “Are we blowing it up?” our resident pyro, Wrench asks.

  I shake my head and elaborate, “We don’t know if any friendlies were taken on board. On that note, I want you to restrain anyone you find. Anyone that attacks or resists is assumed to be a hostile and gets taken out.”

  “And if we don’t find anybody on board?”

  “Signal back. We’re going to check the icebreaker. Once both ships are secured, we’ll use them as cover to take the camp since there are no secure shooting positions on the beach.”

  Devil’s team packs on their gear and begins the descent down the face of the plateau. Using his sniper rifle, Hawk covers them by watching the boats. The rest of us are within range and cover the campsite.

  Once Devil’s group reaches the water’s edge, we make our move. The remaining four of us cross the top of the plateau to the other side of the campsite. There’s a decline in the flat top so that by the time we begin our descent, we’ve only got thirty feet to drop to beach level.

  At first glance, the U.S. vessel, Ice Pick, looks to be abandoned. A thorough search of the ship turns up five bodies. Four of them are dressed in uniforms bearing the name of the ship. They must be the captain and crew. The other is wearing tactical arctic gear and is more likely one of the attackers.

  This means we have three hostages and four assholes left. Over the radio, I check in with Devil, “Sitrep.”

  “Abandoned.”

  “Five bodies here. Four crew, likely one attacker. We’re looking at three hostages and four hostiles.”

  “Affirm. Three hostages and four hostiles. That would account for all the visible heat signatures. ”

  “Devil, I’m about to wake them up. Hold your fire.”

  With our snipers in position to take out any resisters, I send a volley of bullets mere yards in front of the tents. In seconds, four men exit the three tents carrying weapons.

  “Hawk, put one in front of the biggest guy’s feet.”

  In an instant, the sand explodes in front of the big man, and he jumps back. One of the others dashes back in his tent. “Hold fire. He’s about to give us our shot.”

  Terrified screams can be heard coming from the tent our guy jumped into. Seconds later, he emerges, forcing a smaller figure out in front of him. Fortunately, he’s facing the icebreaker where the shots came from, which should give Devil a good shooting lane. “You come out, or I kill her,” he offers in heavily accented English.

  “Devil, confirm you have the shot clear of the tents.”

  “I have the shot clear of the tents.”

  “Send it.”

  The captor crumples to the ground, taking the hostage with him. She’s screaming again, and the other mercs start firing blindly toward the boats as they back up toward the cliff face.

  “Get the shooters!”

  My team returns fire, and the whole thing’s over in two seconds flat.

  “Devil, stay in position and provide cover. The rest of you take the skiff to shore. We’ll meet you there.” Turning to my group, I order Hawk to remain on the Ice Pick.

  We pick our way to the campsite from the ship, watching as the woman that was forced from the tent crawls toward the middle one. A man emerges and helps her up, then they run to the third tent and go inside.

  On approach to the area, I signal for the team to form a perimeter around the tents. With all guns trained on the tent containing the supposed hostages, I yell out, “U.S. Navy SEALs. Come out slowly with your hands on your head.”

  The woman is the first to come out, followed by an older-looking man. “Dr. Hornburg is hurt and can’t move,” the man tells us.

  I motion for Ink and Bandaid to approach. Ink tells the older man to pull open the tent flap. Seeing only the injured man inside, Bandaid pulls out his knife to cut and remove the tent giving him room to operate.

  The rest of us lower our weapons, but I leave the snipers in place for now. Recognizing the scientists from the briefing, I address them by name, “Dr. Newcomb, Dr. Soroka, are either of you injured?”

  Dr. Newcomb shakes her head. “No. Doug was shot when the captain fought against the raiders.”

  “Is there anyone else here?”

  “No one. The captain managed to kill one of the bad guys, then the entire crew of the Ice Pick was murdered.”

  Turning back to the boats, I use a light to signal Devil and Hawk to join us. Meanwhile, Wrench and Skin start heating some water for food and coffee, and Ink assists Bandaid. Judge and I go check the bodies of the mercenaries to confirm the kills.

  Returning to the tents, I check on the injured scientist. “How’s he doing?”

  “Gunshot to the lower right leg. He’s slightly hypothermic, but that’s what’s keeping him alive. He’s lost a lot of blood but not as much as he would have if he’d been shot in a warm climate. I’ll clean and pack the wound, but that’s all I can do without a surgical suite. The bullet struck and shattered bone.

  “I’m going to pump him ful
l of fluids and antibiotics to prevent infection. Thankfully, his bosses thought to fill us in on their medical histories. Otherwise, I couldn’t even do that for fear of causing an allergic reaction.”

  “All right. Let me go order that transport.”

  As I step away from the tent, I breathe a sigh of relief. Mission accomplished. Pulling the locator beacon from my pack, I turn it on to signal that we’re secure and ready for extraction. It should take five hours for a rescue helo to make it to the island.

  Bandaid begins giving heated IV fluids and meds to the victim. Unfortunately, warming him up also wakes him up. He’s in a lot of pain, so Bandaid gives him morphine.

  Once the patient is settled, Bandaid insists on checking the crew of the Ice Pick. I checked for a pulse on each of the victims, but I’m not going to argue with a doctor. He confirms the deceased, and we spend the rest of the five hours trying to warm up.

  When the helo finally arrives, we don’t leave with the scientists. The pilot informs me that my team is to remain on the island until a recovery vessel can arrive to raise the Ice Pick.

  “What’s their ETA?” I ask him.

  “That should be in about ten hours,” he answers.

  That’s just fucking fantastic.

  In reality, it ends up being fifteen hours. The only good news is that my team was able to get some sleep.

  When the salvage ship does finally show up, we’re stuck there with our thumbs up our asses during the nine-hour operation to recover all the bodies and raise the Ice Pick. Our last part of the mission is to ride as security in the dead raid team’s boat in case someone comes looking for it.

  When we finally board the plane in Oslo to return home, we’ve been gone for four-and-a-half days.

  The twelve-hour flight back to base is miserable, and I make no attempts to hide it. I’m bad enough that Bandaid threatens to sedate me just so he’ll get some peace.

  As politely as I can, I flip him off and flop down into the jump seat to try to get some sleep.

  Chapter 14

  Willa

  Seeing Jonathan stepping out of his fancy convertible, I began to rethink this whole arrangement. The only thing that stopped me was the worried look on Chris’s face. He’s nervous enough already about leaving us. I don’t need to make matters worse by acting like a child.

  I didn’t let on to Jonathan that Chris and I are involved. It’s not that I’m ashamed of him; I just sensed that it would be unwise to reveal that information. Chris must have had the same feeling as he kept his distance until Jonathan was in the convenience store.

  When he pulled me close that last time, his eyes were tormented. I assured him that we’d be ok and that we’d be waiting for him when he got back.

  Still, it was hard leaving him.

  During the three-and-a-half-hour drive back to Jonathan’s home, he chatters away about the classes he’s teaching, some of his students’ successes, charities he’s involved in, and the house he’s moved into.

  I act appropriately interested but don’t offer much by way of conversation. Luckily, he was never much interested in what I had to say. Nothing has changed, it seems.

  As he pulls into the entrance of his community, my eyes nearly bug out of my head. There are grand waterfalls to the right and left of the roadway, and the landscaping is immaculate. The guard shack is almost as big as my little house and appears to be roofed with slate tile.

  All this place is missing is pearly gates and streets of gold. Never in my life have I seen such opulence so shamelessly displayed.

  His house is just as ostentatious. Oh, it’s beautiful, but being a bachelor, I don’t understand why he would have a place this big.

  Jonathan maneuvers the sleek car around to the garage, where I’m surprised to see florist and catering vehicles. Whipping my gaze around, I ask, “What’s all this?”

  “Well, I’d scheduled to have a fundraising dinner here tonight. It was too late to cancel when I got your call. Fortunately, my PA was here to handle the setup. But don’t worry. I’ve arranged for someone to come by to bring dresses for you and Ariel.”

  Inside I’m groaning, but I manage to keep it in. Settle down, Willa. You and Ari will just hide out in one of the many bedrooms this place should have.

  “I appreciate that, but with her having a fever, she’d be contagious, and you wouldn’t want her spreading her germs around to your guests.”

  “Hmm. I guess you’re right. I’ll have my assistant hire a nurse to watch her tonight.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’ll keep her away from the action. I’m pretty sure Sheriff Hudson still prefers that I keep a low profile anyway.”

  “You wouldn’t have to worry about that tonight. This is just a small event, no press and no pictures.”

  It seems he’s made up his mind. Well, to be fair, I’m sure he wasn’t expecting to be called to drive eight hours on the day of an important event. It won’t kill you to go to this one thing. “All right.”

  Fidgeting in my seat a little, I decide to offer a little goodwill since he is helping us out. “I’m sorry about this. I had no idea you had this going on. We just had nowhere else to go that would be secure.”

  Jonathan stops the car and turns to me. “Willa, listen. I know I screwed up with us. I was a lousy husband and just as bad a father. If this puts me on the path of earning yours and Ariel’s forgiveness, it’s worth it.” He smiles a self-deprecating smile and adds, “Now, let’s get Ariel inside and into bed.”

  He pulls the car into the four-car garage, and I snicker at the Mercedes SUV sitting to my right. Why couldn’t he have driven that instead of squeezing Ari into the backseat of this thing?

  Climbing out of the low seat, I wrestle my way into the back to help Ari climb out of the tiny sports car.

  After Jonathan passes our bags to what appears to be a butler, I ask him to show me to the kitchen. We didn’t make any stops on our way here, and I need to get some fluids into Ari.

  Only finding sparkling water and wine to drink in the refrigerator, I locate a glass and fill it at the in-door dispenser. The butler then shows us to Ari’s room where I get her settled. “Mama, my throat and head hurt.”

  “I know, baby, but the medicine Bandaid gave you will help you start feeling better soon.” I lean down and give her a kiss on the head.

  A knock sounds at the door, and I move to answer it. A striking young woman is standing in the hall looking a little annoyed as if she’s been asked to handle some horrible task. She’s dressed to impress in a skin-tight black dress and killer high heels. Her eyes roam the full length of my body, the look on her face broadcasts loud and clear that she finds me lacking. “Mrs. Westbrook, we need to get you started if you’re to be ready in time.”

  With one last look back at Ari, I answer her, “Oh, Ok. Do you want to come in here?”

  “Oh, no. I’ll take you to your room. Everything is already set up in there.”

  With a last look at Ari who’s fallen asleep again, I sigh. This is not going to be fun. After quietly closing the door, I follow the woman through a series of halls. “By the way, it’s Castle.”

  “Hmm, what?”

  “My name. It isn’t Westbrook. It’s Willa Castle.”

  She doesn’t acknowledge that I’ve spoken, just keeps walking… and walking. It turns out that my room is a little more separated from Ari than I’m comfortable with.

  The overly confident and underdressed escort finally stops in front of an ornately carved door. When she pushes it open, my jaw falls open. The room is set up like a movie studio makeup trailer, or at least what I would expect one to look like.

  On one side of the room is a long rack of dresses, lingerie, and several boxes of shoes. On the other side is a lit vanity covered in countless hair and makeup products. Standing around wearing lab-type coats and aprons are four people, one man and three women.

  With their serious expressions, they could be scientists instead of beauty technicians. Either
way, their unkind eyes seem to share the same opinion of my natural appearance as the over-baked beauty queen that brought me in here.

  I’m actually scared to go in there.

  With fake enthusiasm, the woman in the black dress takes my hand and starts to pull me inside. “But… Ari. I won’t be able to hear her if she needs me.”

  “Already thought of that. Look.” She points to a screen on the makeup table and turns it on. “See? We’ve got a baby monitor in her room.” Ok. That makes me feel a little better.

  “Now, we’ll need to hurry to get you ready in time. You go jump in the shower, and we’ll get started.”

  “I just showered five hours ago.”

  The man steps forward. “I need you to put a treatment in your hair. It’s in the shower.”

  Not thrilled about this, I force a smile on my face and go into the oversized bathroom. Stepping into the hot shower, I study the collection of products on display. Shampoo, conditioner, hair treatment, some fancy body oil soap, razor, shave cream, and a douche. That’s a big hell no.

  Ignoring most of the bottles, I shampoo my hair and follow the instructions on the hair treatment. While that’s sitting, I grab the washcloth and pick up the body treatment bottle. The smell of the product is overwhelming. There’s no way I could tolerate the syrupy scent on my skin. Never mind. I did shower just a few hours ago.

  After I rinse out the hair treatment, I step out of the shower to dry off and wrap my hair in a towel. Under the towel is a robe… if you can call it that. It’s white silk that leaves little to the imagination.

  The thing is so thin that through it, I can see my nipples and the sharp contrast between my pale skin and the patch of pubic hair over my mons. There’s no way I’m walking out of here like this. I grab another towel and decide to just hold it in front of me like a shield.