“I’m fast,” Max murmurs, more to himself than to us as his eyes dart between the hill and the rocky patch. “I could make the four miles in under twenty–five if I only take my rifle and ammo.”
“No pack? That would be a huge risk. If you get cut off from us, you might be stuck out there without any chow.” Axel’s eyebrows are drawn high, but I can see that he’s only fucking with Max.
“Well then you’ll just have to make sure nothing goes wrong,” Max growls at Axel.
“So, Hawk in the rocks and Owl on the hill,” Dave says then looks at each of us for confirmation.
After we all agree on the position of our two snipers, we go over which weapons to take. The meeting goes on until late at night before we call it a night.
I’m the last of the group outside, and as I stare up at the stars, I whisper, “We’re coming for you, Emilie. Don’t give up.”
CHAPTER 9
EMILIE
Just as I thought I was exhausted enough to fall asleep even though I was hanging from ropes, they came in with a sound system. The air vibrates with every beat of the drums. It sounds more like a disarray of drums, an electric guitar, and someone screaming at the top of his lungs.
There’s no tune to follow, just the chaos of sound.
It’s fitting actually. It’s the perfect representation of what’s going on in my mind.
I’ve heard about people who can switch off when they’re being tortured. They go somewhere else, keeping their minds safe.
I wish I could do that. Instead, I’m a mess.
I’ve been wondering what will happen when I break.
Will I become a vegetable? Will I just stare into space, my mind finally blissfully silent?
Or will I go insane? Will I be stuck in this chaos forever?
I miss the smell of bacon.
I miss the crunch of tacos.
I miss the rich taste of chocolate cake.
I miss the burst of citrus as I bite into an orange.
I miss the fizzle of soda as it cools down my throat.
I miss coffee. Oh, God. I miss coffee so much.
I’m going to die of hunger and thirst long before they torture me to death.
I can’t remember when last I had a decent meal.
Was it before I left home for Father’s rally?
Father.
Does he know that I’ve been taken?
Does he miss me?
Does he even care?
CHAPTER 10
HAYDEN
Dressed in our black combat gear, the five of us lie flat on the hill as we survey the structure about two miles ahead of us. Using night vision gear, we first survey the surrounding land, and as soon as Max has his go-ahead, he’s off like a rabbit, disappearing into the moonless night.
“Hawk left nest A,” Dave gives the info back to command base. The hill is nest A. We’ll all meet back here after the op has been successfully carried out. We also only use our nicknames during an op and never refer to each other by our given names. It’s our way of safeguarding our identities, and it helps us to decompress better once we’re home. It might not work for other teams, but it works for us, and at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.
About six minutes later, Dave whispers, “One mile.”
Our eyes keep darting over the area, looking for any threat while Max is out in the open.
“Three,” Dave whispers.
The structure ahead of us looks like nothing more than an abandoned building.
Nineteen minutes later, Dave murmurs, “Two.”
I can’t see any movement or light coming from the building, and for a moment I worry whether we have the right info for Emilie’s whereabouts.
“One.”
Through my NVG, my eyes zero in on Max.
“Nest B secure,” Max’s voice finally sounds up as he reaches a safe spot in the designated rocky area.
“Sounds like you’re about to hack up a lung,” Axel chuckles into the radio. “By the way, that took you twenty–seven minutes.”
“Fuck you,” Max growls barely sounding out of breath.
“Language,” Mike snaps, then chuckles because he actually got to say that to Max who seldom curses.
“Owl guarding nest A. Hawk guarding nest B. Falcon, Eagle and Buzzard moving in on the target,” Dave notifies the ops center.
We stay low, our eyes everywhere at once as we run across the open stretch between the hill and the building where Emilie’s being held captive. It’s no more than two miles, but it might as well be fifty with us out in the open like this.
My fingers tighten around my rifle as I keep it raised and ready.
This is what we do. We take risks no one else is willing to.
We have no idea what shape Emilie Swanson will be in once we get to her. The plan is to take out any hostiles we might encounter, grab the HVT, and high-tail our asses out of here.
When we reach the building, Dave enters first followed by myself with Axel at my six. Moving fast we sweep the inside and my gut drops when there’s no sign of life.
“What the hell?” Axel grumbles.
“Command, we have a situation,” Dave whispers. “There’s no sign of life. Please advise.”
“The satellite image shows six heat signatures in addition to the three of you. They’re there,” Command comes back.
I look up, then turn a full circle before my gut tells me to look down. I tap Dave on the shoulder and point at the latch to the left of where Axel is standing.
“Got it. Moving,” Dave whispers, as he again takes the lead.
With my hand on the latch, I show a countdown of three so Dave will be ready when I open it. Axel stands behind Dave, ready to grab his legs, so he doesn’t plummet down the hatch head first.
Opening the latch, I pull up the trapdoor, and then Dave quickly leans in to scan the area. He pops back up, gives us a thumbs up and then lowers himself through the hole. I follow him with Axel closing the trapdoor behind us.
Silently, we creep down a narrow hallway. The lighting is dim at best, but it’s enough for us to see where we’re heading.
When we reach a sharp bend, Dave shows for us to hold up. He peeks around the bend then holds up two fingers. Two hostiles.
Moving fast we explode around the bend, catching the men off guard. They jump to their feet, raising their weapons, but we don’t give them a chance to take another breath as Dave takes out the one on the left while I take care of the guy on the right.
“Two down,” Dave breathes the words into his radio. “How are things outside?” he asks as we quickly move forward.
Even though we used suppressors, someone might have heard the bodies dropping to the ground. We have to operate under the assumption that we’ve been compromised.
Rather safe than sorry.
“Nest A clear,” Mike mumbles sounding bored out of his mind.
“Nest B clear. Hurry though, I have rocks digging into my nutsack.”
Axel lets out a huff of silent laughter. He’s going to tease Max about that mercilessly on the way home.
We move further down the narrow hallway, and as we approach a metal door, it starts to open.
“Tell those two fuckers to go get us some pizza,” someone shouts from the other side of the door.
“Sure thing, boss,” a voice says closer, and then the armed idiot steps right into us. Axel makes quick work of incapacitating him as Dave catches the door.
He signals a count of three, and we all rush through the doorway, staying low.
There are only two men left, both armed. The older guy ducks toward an old table for cover. He almost makes it as he sends a spray of bullets our way.
I throw my body to the left while I take a shot which hits the fucker square in the chest. As he goes down, Axel buries two bullets in his head.
The other young guy falls to the floor, chanting, “I give up. Don’t hurt me. I give up.”
“What the fuck is this?” Axel growls,
clearly pissed that our time has been wasted on some kids-gone-rogue op.
I glance around the area which only holds a table and a couple of chairs. Empty pizza boxes and beer cans litter the one corner.
“Something’s not right,” I say as I quickly tie the last guy’s hands and feet with cable ties. After making sure that the prisoner won’t be running anywhere, I tap him on his shoulder. “Where’s Emilie Swanson?”
Using his chin, he points at another metal door. “Through there.”
Dave takes my place and starts to question the guy as I walk to the door.
For a rescue mission of an HVT, this has been too easy. These men weren’t even trained properly. There is definitely something off about this entire situation.
Opening the door, a pungent smell hits my face, and I quickly cover my nose with my bandana as I sweep the area for more hostiles.
It’s hotter than Satan’s asscrack in a sauna as I step into the room. There’s not much ventilation.
Emilie’s body is slumped forward, her legs not carrying any of her weight as she hangs from two ropes. Her clothing is filthy, and there are abrasions on her legs and arms.
“Buzzard, give me a hand,” I say into the radio as I move toward her.
I hang my rifle over my shoulder as I reach her and move some of the stringy strands of hair away from her face.
“Ms. Swanson? Can you hear me?” I ask as Axel comes in. I glance over my shoulder at him. “Untie the rope while I hold her.”
He nods, and I slip my hands under her arms, pulling her limp body against mine so she won’t hit the ground as Axel loosens the ropes.
When he’s done, I gently lay her down, and it’s only then that I get a good look at her face.
Her eyes are open wide, unblinking. If it weren’t for her rapid breathing, I would’ve thought she was dead. Enlarged pupils. Ashen, clammy skin.
“Looks like she’s in shock,” I say to Axel as I pull my bag from my back. Fuck, they did a number on her.
When Axel removes the ropes from around her wrists, I grit my teeth. It looks like scabs have forms over old wounds, and the red swelling could mean infection.
My eyes come back to Emilie’s face, and when she blinks, I let out a breath of relief.
“Ms. Swanson, can you hear me?” I ask again as I lean closer.
Her eyes lock on mine, then a light frown forms on her brow as she takes me in. She seems to be coherent which is good.
“Ms. Swanson, we’re with the Navy SEALs. We’re here to take you home. Can you answer a few questions for me?” I hold my water bottle to her mouth and only allow her a few sips. “You can have more once we get out of here.”
It looks like she’s weighing my words before she whispers, “Home?”
“Yeah, home.” Knowing that she needs to hear the words, I say, “You’re safe. I’ve got you now.”
CHAPTER 11
EMILIE
I can’t remember the first two weeks after my rescue. It’s all a dark blur.
All I can remember is that room, Bearded-Man, the hunger, and thirst – the pain.
I can’t remember what things tasted like before I was taken. I stare at the half-full cup of coffee in front of me. Not even coffee tastes the same.
Nothing feels familiar.
I haven’t left the house since Father’s assistant picked me up from the hospital. Donna gave me a sympathetic look when she dropped me off here at Father’s.
I haven’t been back to my own place. Some of my belongings were already waiting for me in my old room, courtesy of Donna. Somehow, she even managed to get a hold of my handbag which was left in my car. It’s a miracle it wasn’t stolen.
But none of that matters.
I’ve survived a horrible ordeal. Five men risked their lives to rescue me.
This mundane existence pales in comparison to those two thoughts.
What matters?
I don’t know the names of the men who rescued me.
I don’t know what they look like.
I don’t know if they’re okay.
That matters a hell of a lot. I need to know that they are fine. I wish I could meet them. I wish I could throw my arms around them and hug them.
I need to thank them.
Five men. Five brave, selfless men. Five men who showed me that honor is still alive and beating strong in their chests.
I close my eyes and cling to the meager memories I have of them. Actually, I can only remember the one man. The others were shadows moving in the background.
But him. I remember how soothing his deep voice was.
He held me as if I weighed nothing. He ran for minutes upon minutes with me in his arms. His steps never faltered. His grip on me never loosened.
He smelled like a real man. Sweat. No aftershave. No artificial scents. Just sweat.
I take a deep breath wishing I could smell him again.
My eyes tear up, and I quickly pinch them shut.
A stranger showed me more compassion and kindness than my own father, my soon to be ex-husband, or anyone I’ve ever known.
A stranger risked his life for me. He shielded me with his body while we waited for the helicopter.
There’s no doubt in my mind that he, or any of the other men there, would’ve taken a bullet for me.
I mattered to them.
I mattered to five men I’ll never get to meet. The thought breaks my heart and unable to blink the tears back, they start to fall.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Ready?” Donna asks as she pops her head into the living room. “Your father is waiting.”
I take a deep breath as I stand up, smoothing my hands over the jeans I’m wearing. Donna’s eyes go over me, and I see the frown, but luckily, she doesn’t say anything.
I didn’t bother getting changed for the statement.
Dressed in a pair of sneakers, my comfortable jeans, and a soft sweater, I follow Donna to the front door.
Father decided to give a statement today so he could present us as a united front.
I’m about to make a statement of my own and Father’s not going to like it.
My hair is up in a simple ponytail. I didn’t bother with makeup, only wearing mascara and lip balm.
The moment I step outside and onto the porch, Father turns, and a dark frown instantly sweeps across his forehead.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” he snaps in a low tone so only I will hear.
I make a show of looking down at my clothes, then shrug. “I like what I’m wearing. It’s comfortable.”
“It’s not respectable.”
“That all depends from whose point of view we’re looking. From mine, I look just fine.”
Father gives me a stern look which would’ve made me bristle a few weeks ago. Now I don’t care.
He takes my hand, and turning to the cameras, he smiles.
Before he can start his well-practiced speech, I place my head on his shoulder, making sure I look like the darling daughter of a respected member of the community.
“Thank you all for coming,” I say, seizing the moment before Father can. “I won’t be answering any questions. I’m sure you understand why.” I suck in a deep breath of air and continue, “I want to thank the brave men who rescued me. Even though they’re anonymous, I want to acknowledge them.” I look directly into the camera, praying they’ll see me. “I may not know much about you, but I do know one thing. You are men of honor, courage, and selflessness. Not only did you save my life, but you also ignited a need inside of me to do more. Every day I live is in honor of you because a simple thank you will never be enough.”
There’s a stunned silence hanging in the air. Standing on my toes, I press a kiss to Father’s cheek.
“Good luck with the campaign. Goodbye, Father.”
As I turn around and walk back inside the house, the reporters start to pepper Father with questions, keeping him from following me.
I head straight to the garage w
here I’ve already loaded my belongings in my car. As I drive away, I don’t look back.
Father will never forgive me.
A smile curves around my lips because it doesn’t matter.
Five men showed me that I’m worth more than this. I’m worth five lives. I’m worth five courageous hearts. That makes me priceless in a world filled with corruption, hatred, and monsters.
CHAPTER 12
HAYDEN
“Anyone else want a beer?” I ask.
“Yeah, grab me one, please,” Axel says from where he’s turning steaks over on the grill.
I walk to the kitchen and grab a six-pack figuring the guys will inhale it the second I place it on the table.
I glance towards the patio, and when I’m sure that everyone’s preoccupied, I switch on Axel’s television. I’m just in time for the broadcast.
When Emilie goes to stand next to Senator Swanson, I can’t keep from smiling. She looks good. I let out a sigh of relief. I won’t even try to deny that I was worried for her. Most kidnapping survivors never fully recover.
“Thank you all for coming,” Emilie says, which surprises me. I thought that Senator Swanson would be addressing the press.
“I won’t be answering any questions. I’m sure you understand why.” I take a seat on the edge of the couch, my eyes never leaving the screen. “I want to thank the brave men who rescued me. Even though they’re anonymous, I want to acknowledge them.”
Emilie’s eyes find the camera, and it feels like she’s looking right at me.
“I see you,” I whisper.
“I may not know much about you, but I do know one thing. You are men of honor, courage, and selflessness. Not only did you save my life, but you also ignited a need inside of me to do more. Every day I live is in honor of you because a simple thank you will never be enough.”
Fuck. Her words burrow deep into my chest, and for the first time in my career as a Navy SEAL, I feel the need to reach out to someone I helped save.
False Perceptions Page 5
