Uniform Desires (Make Mine Military Romance)

by Sharon Hamilton

  During the second week she was back, she got orders to conduct a night mission heading north into cave-pocked hills. The operations hut had been sweltering hot and tempers had been short. She and her crew were supposed to deliver a small squad of highly trained troops to a building. Then she was to hover nearby until she got word from the soldiers to extract them. She’d done this type of maneuver so many times, she could almost fly it blind, although that wasn’t advisable.

  That evening, she showed up at the chopper, performed all her flight checks, and settled into the pilot’s seat.

  The crew climbed on board, checked their weapons, and gave her the verbal "thumbs up". A group of men showed up dressed all in black, including their black Kevlar vests and helmets. Each face was smeared in black camouflage, unrecognizable, but by their sizes and shapes, she recognized the members of the SEAL Unit, assigned to Camp Leatherneck.

  Delaney’s heart thumped against her chest. She wondered if Tuck was one of the SEALs dressed in black. Would he speak to her, if he was? Perhaps not knowing and not talking to him was better. He was just another troop who needed a skilled pilot to insert and extract him from the designated locations.

  Keeping her focus forward, she checked her gauges and waited for her cue from the gunners in back.

  "Take her up!" Mac called out.

  Easing back on the control, she lifted off the ground and sent the helicopter toward their destination.

  The flight went smoothly with little radio chatter, and soon Delaney hovered low over the drop zone.

  SEALs fast-roped to the ground and ran toward what appeared to be dark holes in the sides of the hills.

  Before they’d gone twenty yards, the bright flare of tracer rounds lit the insides of one of the black entrances to the mountainside.

  Delaney had been briefed to take off immediately and retreat to a safe location away from the firefight. Yet, she hesitated, afraid the bullets being fired would hit one of the SEALs rushing toward the caves.

  She started to pull up when the door gunner let loose a round of fifty-caliber bullets. "Man down!" he shouted into his mic. "Man down!"

  Delaney lifted off the ground and swooped in, aiming at the opening where the tracer rounds blinked in the dark.

  "What are you doing?" her co-pilot asked.

  "Rescuing an American," she said, her fingers tight on the controls, her insides quaking. The man down could be Tuck.

  "They have to take out the gunner before we can pick them up. We’re one giant target out here, captain."

  "We can’t leave a man down."

  "No, but we can’t help if we’re shot down."

  Hovering a moment longer, she forced her hand to move. The helicopter pulled up and back, flying away from the action.

  Delaney goosed the fuel, sending the chopper leaping upward.

  "Incoming!" Mac cried.

  An explosion rocked the entire craft and it pitched to the starboard, heading straight into a rocky hillside.

  Delaney fought for control, righting the blades at the last minute, but not soon enough to miss the bullets strafing the fuselage.

  "Shit! I’m hit," Jones called out.

  Not only was Jones hit, the helicopter shuddered, the engine shut down, and they plummeted toward earth.

  "Brace yourselves for an emergency landing!" Delaney said into mic. With the power off, the blades slowed and gravity did the rest.

  Chapter 9

  Tuck was halfway up the hill to the cave where the RPG had launched a grenade and the machine gun was hammering his men. He refused to look back, his goal was to stop the bleeding and neutralize the threat.

  Positioning himself close enough to make the enemy think twice, and also close enough to be shot at, Tuck laid down suppressive fire while Big Bird aimed his grenade launcher at the cave entrance and lobbed a high-explosive grenade into the gaping maw.

  Tuck took cover.

  The explosion spewed debris in a thirty-foot radius outside the cave entrance, raining down gravel. With a shake, Tuck picked himself up off the ground and rushed the entrance, slipping in the side.

  The machine gunner lay in the rubble, the gun nothing but parts and scattered unexpended rounds. Movement at the back of the cave and a moan sent Tuck deeper.

  "I’m behind you," Big Bird’s voice whispered through the headset affixed to the inside of Tuck’s helmet.

  With his teammate at his back, Tuck adjusted his NVGs and eased toward the back where tunnels branched off the main entrance. Great, which way? His goggles picked up green dots of a warm trail on the ground. Fresh blood, leading to the right.

  Tuck waited for Big Bird to catch up, then he followed the trail deeper into the mountain.

  A flash of green ahead kicked up his pulse. He ducked lower, aimed his weapon and charged forward to catch up.

  Sounds alerted him to more than one enemy ahead. He slowed, dropped to his belly and low crawled, using his elbows, around the corner. Six rifles pointed where his chest would have been.

  He fired at their knees, expending all thirty rounds in his clip.

  Big Bird lay down beside him and fired.

  Tuck jettisoned the clip and slammed another in its place. Before he pulled the trigger to continue his assault, he focused on the six men lying on the ground in front of him. Two still moved; the others lay still.

  Bringing his knees up beneath him, Tuck hurried forward, ready to dive to the left or right should one raise a weapon.

  The two still alive thrashed and moaned.

  A grenade rolled out at Tuck’s feet. "Get back!" he yelled.

  Big Bird, still holding the corner, scooted back around the rock wall.

  Tuck sprinted and dove into the tunnel, then rolled around the corner as the explosion erupted around them. The ground beneath him bucked and rocks from the ceiling pummeled his back. Dust filled the air and choked his lungs.

  Tuck’s ears rang and he could barely stand without staggering.

  Big Bird was around here somewhere amongst the rubble.

  His NVGs lost in the stones and dust, Tuck felt in his pockets for the mini flashlight he carried, praying it still worked, or he’d have a helluva time finding his way back out of the tunnel. A click sounded near him, and light caught the flying dust particles, making a strange glow.

  "Tuck?" Big Bird’s voice sounded like it came through the thick glass bottom of a soda bottle. He shone the light in Tuck’s eyes, his M4 aimed at Tuck’s chest.

  "Yeah, I’m okay, but I can’t hear worth a crap. Don’t get trigger happy." Tuck pushed away the nose of his weapon and clicked on his own flashlight. "Come on. We need to find the rest of the men."

  They retraced their steps back to the cave entrance.

  Fish, Gator, and Dustman were nowhere to be seen. Flames rose from a dark structure lying on the ground halfway across the valley.

  For a moment, Tuck didn’t make the connection.

  Big Bird backhanded him in the gut. "Ain’t that our chopper?"

  Tuck leaped off the ledge of the cave and ran, slid, scooted down the steep hillside to the bottom. Without slowing, he ran, all out, across the desert valley.

  Big Bird yelled behind him. "Tuck! Don’t be stupid. You’re of no use to anyone dead."

  Tuck barely heard him, the humming in his ears blocking most sound from reaching his brain. The chopper was down, on fire, and Delaney had been the pilot. "Fuck!" He ran faster.

  Behind him, Big Bird yelled, "Don’t shoot! It’s us!"

  Gator and Fish stepped out from behind the wreckage as Tuck reeled into the light from the burning aviation fuel. "Survivors?" he gasped.

  "The door gunners took bullets and they’re pretty banged up, and the co-pilot busted a leg."

  Tuck grabbed Gator’s Kevlar vest and jerked him close. "The pilot?"

  Gator shook his head.

  His heart plummeting, Tuck shoved Gator away. "Where is she?"

  "Tuck, she’s alive, but she must be bleeding internally. She’
s been unconscious since we pulled her out of the helicopter."

  "Where…is…she?" He rounded the craft to the other side where the injured crew members and Dustman lay scattered across the ground. All of them greeted him with a raised hand, except one.

  She lay on the hard-packed dirt, her helmet and electronic kneeboard on the ground beside her.

  Tuck dropped down at her side and placed his ear near her mouth, listening for breathing, feeling for the blessed release of air from between those beautiful lips.

  A hand settled on his shoulder. "Tuck, she’s breathing and her pulse is slow but steady."

  Tuck glanced up at Gator. "Dustman?"

  "Took a round in the thigh. He went down, but was up again a couple minutes later."

  "I think she hesitated when I went down," Dustman said.

  Tuck brushed a long sandy blond hair off her cheek and said softly, "Knucklehead."

  Gator, the big man from Louisiana, with the tattoos of an alligator and a swamp rat on his biceps and hair down around his shoulders, looked like a wild man from the swamps. But he was one of the best SEALs Tuck had ever had on his side. He stood straight, weapon ready, scanning the hillside above him. "I’ve radioed for backup. We’re to sit tight, hold our position, and keep these guys safe."

  Fish asked, "Did you get ‘em?"

  Tuck nodded, the attack’s success inconsequential compared to what had happened outside the cave.

  He stayed with Delaney while Gator and Fish set up a perimeter around the crashed helicopter. Each minute ticked by like hours until finally the whopping sound of helicopter rotors rose in the distance. Minutes later, two helicopters landed. Medics leaped to the ground, carrying bags of medical equipment and stretchers.

  A very short time later, they were on their way back to Camp Leatherneck.

  After Tuck saw to the safety of his team, he gave the medics all the room they needed, but insisted on riding in the same aircraft as Delaney.

  They’d strapped her to a board, immobilizing her in case she’d suffered neck or spinal injuries. An I.V. drip fed fluid into her veins and an oxygen mask was secured to her face. She looked small in the mass of equipment and crowds of men in uniforms.

  Tuck had never felt more frustrated and useless than at that moment. He wanted her to wake up so he could tell her to hang on. That he loved her and that if she didn’t marry Cory, and married him instead, he’d be the happiest man on the planet.

  He managed to hold her hand the entire flight back and helped carry the stretcher to the camp’s hospital where the doctors and nurses took over.

  Once Delaney was out of sight, Tuck checked on Dustman. He’d been giving his female surgeon a hard time, refusing to have her administer a local anesthetic while she fished for the slug. He insisted on being strapped down and then proceeded to tell her he was enjoying it. Not amused, the surgeon fished the bullet out of his leg, sewed him up, and pumped him full of fluid and antibiotics.

  "And get the hell out of my hospital in the morning." After giving him strict instructions to stay off the leg until then, she left his side, tossing a wink over her shoulder.

  "How’s Delaney?" Dustman asked, wiping the sweat off his brow with the white sheet gathered around his middle.

  "I don’t know."

  Dustman’s hand stilled. "You don’t know? And you’ve parked your raggedy ass here? What’s wrong with you?" He leaned over, shoved Tuck, and winced. "Go, before I bust a stitch and get Brunhilde von Shaft riding my ass again."

  By the time he got back to the door Delaney disappeared through, Captain Lindsay Swinson was there, worried wrinkles on her forehead. "You’re Tuck, aren’t you?"

  When he nodded, she smiled, hooked his arm, and dragged him to another section of the hospital where beds lined the walls, many of them empty. At the far end of the room, one had a body in it. As he neared, he recognized the sandy blond hair.

  Delaney lay as still as death, her face pale, almost chalky in appearance.

  His knees shook and he almost fell. "Is she okay?"

  "The doc said she was a little messed up inside. He had to remove damaged tissue."

  Tuck’s fists clenched. "Will she be okay?"

  Swinson nodded, a smile spilling across her face. After a moment, the smile disappeared. "The doctors said she sustained damage to her uterus." The nurse paused and finished in a rush. "They did what they could, but she may never have children."

  "Who cares? She almost died. If she lives, that will be enough." He dragged in a deep breath. "When I saw the helicopter in flames..."

  "She’s tough. She’ll pull through." Swinson sighed. "I’ll miss her as a roommate."

  Miss her? His body went rigid. "What do you mean?"

  "No one told you?"

  "Told me what?"

  "Tomorrow, they’re putting her on a plane back to the States." The nurse stared at him. "Are you going to be all right?"

  "I’m fine." No, he wasn’t fine. His world was falling apart, he was stuck in this desert shit hole when Delaney was going back stateside. If something happened to her while he was here...

  "Since she doesn’t have any family, they’re sending her to Bethesda to be with her fiancé during her recuperation."

  The weight of her words slammed into his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.

  "You love her, don’t you?" the nurse asked.

  Did he love Delaney? As soon as he thought the question, the answer was as clear as it was painful, and it had been there from the first time they’d shared a pizza.

  With every beat of his heart, he loved her.

  Nurse Swinson chuckled. "You don’t have to answer. I can see it in your face." Her smile turned to a frown. "If you love her, why are you letting her marry another guy?"

  "You don’t understand."

  "What don’t I understand?"

  "Reaper’s my friend." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "A guy doesn’t poach on his buddy’s girl. Especially when he’s going through hard times."

  "What about Delaney?"

  The words formed like sand in his mouth but he said them anyway. "She chose him."

  "And she’s miserable."

  "Delaney’s aircraft was shot down. Anyone would be miserable."

  "Don’t be thickheaded, frogman." Swinson shook her head. "Miserable in love with you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?"

  His gut clenched like he’d been sucker punched. "What did you not understand about she chose him?"

  "She doesn’t love him in that way."

  "He lost his fuckin’ arm. I’m not takin’ his girl."

  "You’re both so stubborn, you’re going to let this mistake go forward?"

  "There’s nothing I can do to stop it. It’s all in Cory’s hands." He closed his eyes, his friend’s pain washing over him. "Hand."

  Swinson sighed. "Then you’re all fools."

  He glanced down at Delaney.

  She looked so pale that his stomach clenched. "When is she supposed to wake up?"

  "When her body is ready."

  "Will she wake before she leaves in the morning?"

  "We don’t know. From what we do know, her helicopter landed hard. So far she’s not showing any swelling on the brain, but it is a possibility."

  "Can I stay here with her?"

  "If it’s all right with your commanding officer, you can stay all night. I’ll get a chair, but it won’t be comfortable."

  "I don’t need comfort." He needed Delaney to wake up so that he could tell her.

  Tell her what? That he loved her? That she couldn’t marry Reaper and that he couldn’t live without her?

  Maybe it was just as well Delaney slept through the night. By morning when the medevac folks came, she hadn’t come to.

  When they moved her to the transport stretcher, she stirred. "Tuck?"

  He was there, holding her hand. "I’m here," he reassured her, walking with the team of medical personnel carrying her to the ambulance that would take her to the air
field.

  "You’re okay." Her eyelids drifted closed as if they were too heavy to hold open.

  "Yes, I am."

  A smile tipped the corners of her lips.

  Then she whispered so softly he had to bend close to hear. "I love you." He pressed a kiss to her lips and before he could do more, they loaded her into a helicopter bound for Bagram, then Landstuhl, and ultimately back to Bethesda where she’d be reunited with Reaper, her fiancé.

  As the helicopter lifted from the ground, Tuck felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest. He couldn’t stand by and watch his best friend marry the woman he loved, and he couldn’t bust them up. Not when his friend had lost so much. Torn so completely, he could lie around and wallow in his self-pity, which was not something he tolerated in others, or he could do something to take his mind off his troubles.

  Tuck marched to his commander’s tent, still wearing the black combat uniform of the night before, dusty, dirty and probably smelling like a wet dog.

  "Tuck, how’s the chopper pilot?" Commander Janek settled a cap over his head and stepped outside into the morning heat.

  "On her way to the States. She’ll live." With Reaper. Tuck’s fists clenched and his heart squeezed so tightly in his chest he thought he was having a heart attack. "I want to go after the Taliban informer who set us up last night and the mission that cost Reaper his arm."

  His commander stood still, staring into Tuck’s face. "What have you heard?"

  "I understand intel got a lead on him."

  Janek nodded. "I’m assembling a team today."

  "I want in on it."

  The skipper’s brows knitted. "Are you sure you’re up to the task?"

  Straightening his shoulders, Tuck stood tall. "Always."

  "We’ll talk after you’ve had a shower. You stink." Janek turned toward the mess tent, hesitated, and turned back. "This mission will be the most dangerous one you’ve ever been on. It will require living in the worst conditions for long periods of time and being cut off from civilization for weeks."

  Perfect. He wouldn’t be around for Reaper and Delaney’s wedding. "The longer the better."