SEAL of My Dreams
Page 12
Slowly, she opened her eyes, gazed at him, and a lazy smile spread across her face. She’d clearly forgotten where they were and why they were here.
For a moment—one blissfully contented moment—he allowed himself to do the same. He imagined they were at his cabin, nestled amidst the thick spruce and firs. The trout stream in back trickling softly and the chestnut trees rustling in a cool night breeze. He’d never taken a woman there, never wanted to before Carly.
He bent his head and kissed her slowly, luxuriously, as if they had all the time in the world. She sighed and yielded to him as he dipped his tongue inside her warm, sweet mouth. When she wrapped her leg around him, pulling him close, he let himself sink into her softness. One heartbeat, two. Ten. A lifetime would never be enough. Damn. His gut had been right all along. She was the one. Reluctantly, he pulled away.
She blinked and suddenly jolted upright as reality seemed to hit. “How long was I out?”
“Coupla hours.” He looked away, giving himself a minute, and then held out his canteen.
She took a swig of water and wiped her mouth. “Listen. About what just happened between us—”
“Now isn’t the time.” He stood and grabbed his pack. “Later.”
“What if there isn’t a later?”
He extended his hand. “Then explanations, apologies, promises. None of it’ll matter.”
She put her hand in his and pulled herself upright, all the while holding his gaze. “Nate—”
“Focus on the objective,” he stated with as little emotion as possible. “I get that man out of there. I look for your brother. And then we get the hell out of Mogadishu. One thing at a time.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’m ready.”
He went through the plan one more time. They would park the vehicle beside the compound wall. She was to stay there for ten minutes. If he didn’t come back, she was to, without hesitation, head directly to the coordinates on his GPS. “If all goes according to plan, we’ll be out of here in no time.”
Again, she nodded.
They exited the apartment building and, while Carly steered, he pushed the old Mercedes to a spot near the wall of the compound. “This is it,” he whispered, signaling for her to get out of the car. “This is closest to their makeshift medical clinic.” He took the supplies and weapons he needed out of his pack and set it in the back seat. Then he handed her his 9mm and suppressor, climbed onto the roof of the car and surveyed the compound through his binoculars. One guard at the main building. One at the gate. And three making rounds. His window of opportunity was right . . . now.
He glanced down at Carly. For the first time ever, there was a woman he wanted to come back to, safe and sound. “You ready for this?”
“Yes.”
She looked about as ready as any civilian could be for the possible fight of her life. “You’ll do fine.”
“Be careful,” she whispered. “I—”
Before she had the chance to say another word, he climbed over the wall. Within minutes, he’d made it inside the building the rebels seemed to be using as a medical clinic by climbing through a rear window. The main room of the house was, indeed, outfitted like a small rustic hospital. Two Somalis, Ahmed’s rebels, both heavily bandaged in various parts of their bodies, lay sleeping on cots. A guard sat conked out in a chair, semi-automatic weapon across his lap. Nate made quick work of all three. No point in taking the chance any of them would awaken.
Now to find that male prisoner. A search of the other four rooms, a kitchen, bathroom and two bedrooms yielded no results. That left only the closet off the main room. It was locked. Bingo.
A key from the now dead guard’s shirt pocket opened the door. The man—and a woman—their clothes stained with dirt, blood and sweat, were huddled close to each other in the dark. No Jason. Without enough time to address the obvious fear in the hostages’ eyes, Nate held out his hand. “Can you speak English?”
“Oh, thank God, you’re American,” the woman cried softly as a tear spilled down her cheek.
“You are here to rescue us,” the man said, pulling himself up and turning to help the woman. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir. I’m getting you out of here right now.”
“I’m Ed. This is Amy. We were on a medical—” The two came into the room and, clearly terrified, stared at the rebels.
“Don’t worry. They won’t ever hurt anyone again,” Nate whispered. “Is there anyone else from your team who survived?”
“Yes.” Amy’s eyes went wide with worry. “Jason.”
“At least he was alive this morning,” Ed added with bitterness. “But when he wouldn’t treat one of their men they beat him. Badly. We haven’t seen him since they dragged him out of here.”
“Do you know where they took him?”
“It looked like they went into the main building,” Amy said, nodding toward the windows. “Through that side door you can see from here.”
“After the beating he took, he’s bound to have internal bleeding,” Ed added. “If he’s alive, he’ll be in bad shape.”
The only reason Ahmed’s men would’ve taken Jason away from the medical team was if they wanted him to die. How was Nate going to tell Carly? First things first, and they had to hurry. There were running out of time to get to the extraction location. “Let’s get you two out of here.”
They left the building and made it back to the car with three minutes to spare. Carly helped Ed and Amy into the back seat of the car and then turned expectantly toward him. Nate relayed everything the two hostages had told him about Jason.
“So we don’t know whether or not he’s alive,” Carly said, clearly struggling to hold herself together.
“I’m going back to look for him.” He didn’t want to tell her that this time was going to be riskier. Even if he managed to find Jason, he wasn’t sure what kind of shape Carly’s brother would be in. Nate would have a tough time carrying a man’s dead weight over that eight-foot wall. “We need a new plan.”
As he gathered more supplies, he gave her new instructions. “With any luck, the guard will leave the front gate unattended. If he holds his post, you may have to use that weapon, Carly.”
She looked scared, but would that fear immobilize her?
“You can do this. I know you can.” He climbed back up onto the roof of the car and studied the grounds. Same three men on rounds. Same guard at the gate. Same man at the main build—
Hold everything. Mr. Cigarette. What do you know? The man stepped outside, lit up and blew a lungful of smoke into the air as he arrogantly puffed out his chest. Then he turned to talk to the other guard. That’s when Nate saw it. Dammit. On Mr. Cigarette’s left cheek was a half moon scar just like Mohammed Ahmed’s. “How can that . . . ”
“Nate, what is it?” Carly asked.
Every other time Nate had seen Mr. Cigarette it’d been from his right side. But how could—? Then it dawned on him. The photo identifying the man had been a reflection. “It’s him,” Nate murmured. Mr. Cigarette was Mohammed Ahmed.
“Nate?”
He glanced at Carly. They were running out of time to get to the extraction point. He was going to have to choose. Take out Ahmed, his primary mission objective, or save Jason? The answer was obvious.
“Do not, and I mean this Carly, do not wait for me.” He took one last look at her face, and then hopped over the wall.
Chapter Six
Something was wrong. Carly had seen in on Nate’s face. Strong emotion. Conflict. He’d looked as if he was being torn in two. Over what? Or . . . who? She’d heard him whisper something. It’s him? Yes, that’s what he said. It’s him. Could he have been talking about Mohammed Ahmed? Could Nate’s primary mission be here? If Ahmed was here, Nate would do his job. No matter what. Oh, God. Jason. What if Nate had to leave him here?
She climbed into the car and turned toward Ed and Amy. “How bad was Jason?” she asked. “Do you think he could make it another day?” If he was stil
l alive, could he make it until Nate’s team came back for him?
“He was bad.” Ed shook his head. “I’m not sure he’ll see the sunrise without medical attention.”
She spun back around and stared in shock out the dusty windshield. She might never see her brother again.
Just then an explosion boomed through the silence, shaking the ground. She jolted with surprise as the black sky lit with bright lights and plumes of smoke. That was her signal. Signal for what, though? Her mind went black as panic threatened.
You have to remember. You need to—
Time. She had to keep track of the time.
Quickly, she clicked the stopwatch Nate had given her earlier. In exactly two minutes, she was supposed to drive the car to the front gate. If Nate didn’t show within thirty seconds, she was to leave, with or without him. These were going to be the longest two minutes of her life.
Gunfire erupted inside the compound. One minute and thirty seconds of rapid fire back and forth as one frantic thought after another raced through her mind. Damn Nate and his commitment to duty. But was it fair to fault him for doing his job?
“We need to go,” Amy said, nearly hysterical with fear. “We need to get out of here.”
“Sorry, Amy, we have to wait just a little bit more. To give Nate time to get back to the gate.” Carly stared at the watch, counting down those last thirty seconds. “Now we can go.”
She started the engine and eased toward the gate. Too late, she realized the guard hadn’t been distracted, as expected, by the explosion Nate had set. The guard pointed his gun at her, some kind of heavy-duty automatic thing, and yelled for her to get out of the car. She opened the door and slid out, keeping the gun Nate had given her behind her back and praying for a chance to shoot.
A second explosion crackled through the air. This was it. Her chance. She aimed the gun. The guard turned back to her and she froze. She couldn’t do it.
Then past the guard, inside the compound, motion drew her gaze. It was Nate running toward them. And he was carrying a body over his shoulders. Jason! She’d have known that head of red hair anywhere. He’d rescued Jason. Carly squeezed the trigger, hitting the guard in his gut. She hit him again, forcing him to the ground, as she raced to open the gate.
“I’m driving!” Nate called out as he ran toward her.
She flew to the passenger’s side and helped Nate get her unconscious brother into the back seat. She climbed into the front passenger seat, Nate slid behind the wheel, and they took off before the doors where even closed.
“Is Jason alive?” she asked, turning to see if there was anything she could do.
“I don’t know,” Nate said as he sped through the deserted city streets.
“He’s alive,” Ed said, his hand on Jason’s limp wrist.
The car’s motion jostled her back and forth as Nate drove as fast as he could through the deserted streets, but she couldn’t take her eyes off her brother. He was laid out on the seat, his head in the doctor’s lap. The nurse held his feet. His face was a mass of blood and bruises. His clothes were torn, dirty.
Slowly, Jason cracked open one puffy and bruised eye. When he saw her, he smiled faintly. “You came to Somalia, Carls,” he murmured, his words slurred. “I’m impressed.”
“Stay alive and I’ll tell you a few stories that’ll impress you even more.”
“Oh, I’ll be all right.” His words were little more than exhaled breath and then his eye drifted closed and his mouth went slack.
“Jason?” When he didn’t respond, she turned to Ed. “Is he going to be okay?”
“His blood pressure is dropping. I need an operating table and lots of medical supplies. Fast.”
“Everything you need will be on the carrier,” Nate said. “But we gotta get there first.”
“Did you take out Mohammed Ahmed?” she asked.
“No. Had to follow my gut. It’s usually right.”
Just then headlights popped up through the haze of dirt being kicked up behind them. Someone was tailing them. “We’ve got company,” Carly said.
“I see that,” Nate muttered, glancing in the rearview mirror. He flicked on his radio and contacted the chopper. “I’m coming in hot.”
“Looks like your tail is gaining,” said Master Chief Turnham.
“I’ve got four passengers, so I’m going to need some help.”
“Roger that.”
Suddenly, the rear window was shattered by gunfire. “Get down!” Nate called.
“I’ve got a better idea!” Carly shouted as Ed and Amy ducked. Fueled by adrenaline rushing through her veins and anger over what Ahmed and his men had done to Jason, she aimed out the rear window and fired. Over and over. The truck, a gunman in the rear bed, swerved, but kept coming.
“That’s Mohammed Ahmed in the front passenger seat,” Nate said. “Take him out.”
“Me?”
“You’re the one with the gun.”
She fired several more times. The truck slowed slightly, but it wasn’t enough.
“The chopper’s landing just ahead of us,” Nate said. “You gotta do better than that.”
The truck closed in again. Carly fired several times, missing her mark. Another few shots and this time she managed to hit the front windshield. The truck swerved and the gunman lost his balance.
“Get ready. As soon as I stop this vehicle, everybody out. Chopper side. Get Jason to safety as fast as you can. Do not stop to look back. And keep your heads down. They’ll be throwing down some cover fire. Understand?”
“Yes!”
“Showtime.” Nate swerved the car sharply just in front of the chopper and jerked to a stop, throwing up a veil of dirt and dust. “Run!”
“What about you—”
“Go!”
She flew out the door and helped Ed with Jason as Amy ran to the chopper. Amidst the storm of dust kicked up by the rotating helicopter blades, four SEALs hopped to the ground and ran past Carly. Someone helped her up into the chopper and she turned to watch.
Nate had climbed out behind her and was using the car as a shield as he fired at Ahmed’s truck. Ahmed’s men had almost overtaken Nate when the other SEALs joined Nate’s side. That’s when Ahmed’s truck made an abrupt about-face and sped off back toward Mogadishu. Nate grabbed what looked like a couple grenades and launched them toward Ahmed and his men. A split second later, the truck blew to pieces.
Nate and the others ran full out back to the chopper. The moment they were inside, the pilot took off. Nate put on a radio headset. “So long to Mohammed Ahmed,” he said into the radio, holding Carly’s gaze.
A round of cheers erupted amongst the SEALs. In a matter of minutes, the chopper was over water. They’d no sooner landed on the carrier deck than a medical team flew toward them with a stretcher. Everything happened in a flash. As they transferred Jason, Ed relayed Jason’s vital signs.
“Prep him for surgery. I’m right behind you.” Ed glanced at her. “I think we got him just in time, Carly. He’s going to be okay.”
Carly hopped out of the chopper and ran behind them, wanting—needing—to be with Jason. But something—someone—tugged at her heartstrings. She turned and found Nate watching her as the chopper blades rotated over his head. This man had risked his life for her, for her brother. She could risk her heart.
“The Blue Ridge Mountains,” she called. After everything they’d been through, would he still want to see her? “Your cabin.”
“What about it?” he said, his gaze intense.
“I owe you a weekend.” She held her breath. “Still interested?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled softly. “But my gut’s telling me a long weekend won’t be nearly long enough.”
FINDING HOME
HelenKay Dimon
Chapter One
Megan White balanced her palms on her desk, kicked off her three-inch black pumps, and nearly groaned in relief. Her arches ached and her cramped toes tingled to painful life after an ho
ur of numbness. The carpet under her was little more than a mat. A co-op of local women wove it together from the thick leaves of a huge pink flowering plant, the name of which Megan kept forgetting. The flooring wasn’t soft or cushy, but she wanted to hug each of the women for creating something that felt like a fluffy pillow compared to the stiff shoes.
She’d been on the tiny island of Erites for exactly eleven days and felt as if she hadn’t sat down for more than ten minutes. She didn’t have time to rest now either. The first-ever U.S. Ambassador and the diplomatic envoy charged with getting the new embassy up and running stood together in the doorway between the Ambassador’s temporary private home office and the open area outside his door that eventually would house his security team and an assistant once those people arrived. The two men poured over military reports as Ambassador Templeton, a lifetime State Department employee and former Assistant Secretary, shook his head and grumbled.
Ambassador Templeton wasn’t even supposed to be here yet. His top-secret early arrival meant a limited security detail, few office workers and virtually no assistance except her. He had a series of meetings scheduled with the Erites Prime Minister and his top advisors to ease the transition from no U.S. presence to an active embassy.
Despite its strategic location in the middle of the ocean, thousands of miles north of Hawaii, no one had bothered with Erites for decades. Powerful countries dismissed the people of Erites as uncivilized and saw little benefit to offset the expense of making an ally out of a strip of land approximately the size of California. Then the photograph of a secret meeting between Erites Prime Minister Hakandu and the U.S. President surfaced and Erites became an area of great interest.
Conflicting rumors swirled for months about a U.S. military base being built there and Korea’s hold over Erites’ military leadership who long fought with elected Prime Minister Hakandu over the country’s need for a mobilized fighting force. In the middle of it all, Megan and a small crew had been dispatched from Washington, D.C. to set up and charge ahead.