by Laura Acton
That’s when he glimpsed green. In the next instant, he registered red and knew he hit center mass instead. With so many targets to be taken out, Dan had no time to linger and moved on to the remaining targets. He dispatched thirteen in rapid succession.
Aware he must preserve a certain level of secrecy, Dan chose his words with care. “Cleared to fire, I took out several targets before I zeroed in on one behind a wall. At the same time I pulled my trigger, he turned and stood.”
Dread increased. He wanted to contact Brody, but Major Plouffe ordered them to maintain radio silence. Entering the kill zone, Baboon went left, and he went right. Dan went straight towards the short wall. Several Westerners with green and blue eyes had joined the terrorists over the years. Dan hoped that was the case now, though a part of him espied the truth.
Something told him it was Brody. He received the all clear so it shouldn’t be. Yet he couldn’t hear the music he associated with Brody in his head. Only the sound of silence remained. Not even the crunching of his boots on the arid sand and rocks registered. Dan rounded the corner, and his eyes landed on the body splayed out on the ground. No mistaking the dead man’s identity … Brody!
Brody lay in the desert dirt in a pool of blood. His chest wholly obliterated by Dan’s .50 cal. Brody’s brave heart scattered in pieces too small to be distinguishable.
Dan dropped to his knees near Brody’s head. He gazed at Brody’s face. The passion for life which had burned in those jade-green eyes now dully reflected only sky. His fate sealed. Dan’s innocence died, and his soul shrieked as it shredded. He breathed in his despair, as deep red seeped into the knees of his tan fatigues. Blood the only fragrance hung in the air suffocating him. Brody’s lifeblood.
Throwing back his head, an agonized, primal scream of agony too acute to endure ripped from him for as long as he had breath.
He couldn’t breathe in again. He killed his brother. He blew away the one person who meant the most to him. The pain too sharp, seizing and constricting his chest until his heart shattered and no longer beat, as was only right. Blackness embraced him dragging him to Hell.
Dan’s mask shattered into a million pieces, slicing him deep to the bone. Every brutal, raw emotion laid open for the team to witness. His agony and unrelenting remorse gouged into his tortured soul, and the pure unadulterated misery showed in his eyes. His voice shook and cracked, “I went … to do … IDs. A brief green … in my gut … I knew.”
Tears flowed freely. “I found Brody. The green—Brody’s eyes.” Dan’s voice dripped with self-loathing as he choked out, “I blew a hole through his chest—nothing left. I failed. I killed my brother.”
Dan peered at Bram as his body shook violently. Clear as day to those observing and listening that Dan’s next words were said more to try and convince himself rather than anyone else. Trying desperately to justify his actions to himself, knowing it would bring no real solace, breaking, hoarse words said softly, “Brody … sh…shouldn’t have b b … been there. I was … cl…cleared to fire. I should’ve known. I shouldn’t have fired. My bullet killed Brody.”
Gut-wrenching, anguished sobs filled the silence of the briefing room as Dan could no longer hold back the tsunami of emotions which threatened to drown him. Bram’s strong arms pulled Dan close, holding him securely, creating a safe harbor to shelter him as he rode the engulfing waves of desolation and grief.
Dan Needs a Friend
35
October 19
TRF HQ – Dispatch Desk
Tia glanced up when Commander Gambrill stopped by her desk. Her smile forced when she greeted him. “Hello, Commander. Is there something you need?”
Walter stared at the closed briefing room. “Alpha Team debriefing?”
“Yes.” Tia flicked her eyes to the door and wondered about the hammering sound she heard earlier.
“Tough call?”
“Suicide by cop. Bram took a hit in the vest.” At the concerned expression, Tia added, “Cleared by the doctors. He’s bruised but okay.”
Gambrill nodded. “Subject officer?”
“Jon. NRB cleared him, and he’s debriefing with them.” Tia turned her gaze to the handsome man who exited the elevator and strode towards the desk. “May I help you?”
Jarmal’s bright smile increased as he gazed upon the beautiful woman. Her smooth complexion reminded him of the color and texture of finely ground roasted hazelnuts, her silky, long hair the shade of rich, dark cocoa and her warm honey amber eyes sparkled like the finest champagne.
His smile broadened as he internally laughed at himself. So passionate about foods he described everything in those terms. Perhaps he did need to expand his vocabulary, it would give his brothers less material for their jokes. Though, he believed even they would agree this woman was a delicious vision.
Jarmal leaned on the counter moving closer, ignoring the older police officer who eyed him cautiously. Jarmal switched on his charm. “Well, hello beautiful. I’m looking for Dan Broderick, but if he isn’t here, it is well worth the trip meet someone as scrumptious as you.”
Tia smiled at the smooth drawl of the man and his flirtatious compliment. Her heart skipped a beat or two before she replied, “Dan’s here but busy. I’m not sure how long he will be. You can give me your name and contact information, and I’ll tell him you stopped by, or you can have a seat and wait.”
“I’m Jarmal Tate, and I’d love to give you my number,” Jarmal said putting emphasis on love and you, implying it would be for her, not Dan. He winked at her, sighed, and said with a smile, “Alas, I think I’ll wait here for him so I can gaze upon you. I hope he takes a long time.”
Tia blushed. This man is as outrageous as he is handsome.
Walter studied the man and concern for his godson caused him to be wary. Why is he here to visit Dan? Is he one of Dan’s unit mates who callously turned their backs on him? “What do you want with Constable Broderick?”
Jarmal reluctantly shifted his gaze from the delicious woman with the sweet smile to the officer. “I’m a friend. I came by to check on him.”
“How do you know him?” Walter asked.
“Army. I just found out a mutual buddy died. Dan didn’t look so hot when I saw him earlier. Figured I should pop by and invite him to dinner,” Jarmal explained. Close enough to the truth. Dan’s sergeant said Dan might want a friendly face tonight. So, Jarmal agreed to come by and insist they grab a bite.
Walter nodded. Friend, Dan needs one of those. He would ensure the team left on time today. He checked his timepiece and said to Tia, “Assign any new calls to Bravo Team. That way Alpha Team can knock off on-time today. They’ve already put in too much overtime this week.”
Tia nodded. “Yes, sir.” To Jarmal, she said, “You may wait over there.” She pointed to a small cluster of chairs and a table away from the briefing room instead of the ones near it to give the team privacy.
She understood from past experience when a team closed the door and turned the glass opaque that debrief wouldn’t be fun. And although the room was secure and mostly soundproof when closed, if someone yelled loudly, the sound would carry to anyone sitting in those chairs.
TRF HQ – Briefing Room
Nick scrutinized each team member as they all absorbed the shock of what Dan shared as he also processed the information. Utterly heartbreaking to view a young man in enormous pain. Nick could almost see and taste the guilt coming from Dan.
Held in Bram’s arms, Dan gave the impression of being very young. Gone was the cocky, stoic soldier. In its place a lost, tortured soul of a grieving man. As Nick stumbled backward and found his chair, he slumped down, bent over, rested his elbows on his thighs, and his face in his palms.
How did I miss the signs? I’m supposed to be the profiler. How can I be so blind? Lifting his head Nick’s gaze rested on Dan as the rookie cried into Bram’s shoulder. The conversation with Jarmal had been enlightening. The man talked about how close Dan and Brody were. Best buddies who laugh
ed and helped each other through the hardships they faced fighting terrorism.
Jarmal didn’t provide any details of how Dan had been injured, only said it was significant and took him months to recover. Jarmal helped by making food for Dan which met specific dietary guidelines and enticed Dan to eat, so he regained his physical strength.
He said oatmeal raisin walnut cookies were Dan’s favorite treat. Jarmal developed a recipe for them which contained extra protein. He claimed they were like a power bar, but much tastier, and Dan never turned them down. Even when dead tired, Dan always ate the cookies if put in front of him.
After hearing what Dan revealed, he was so glad he arranged for Jarmal to come to headquarters today. Dan surely needed a friend tonight. Nick doubted Dan would be too keen on being around any of the team. Especially after the way they treated him.
He rubbed his hands briskly over his face. I made a colossal mistake. I should’ve seen Dan is hurting. Nick stopped his train of thought and started working through other questions, looking for answers. Gambrill put Dan on this team specifically. Why? Did the commander know Dan’s background? Walter wouldn’t indiscriminately accept a new officer without learning something of his past. Well, perhaps he would.
Nick’s previous thought returned. He had no choice when Dan was placed on the team, and perhaps Walter didn’t either. With Broderick’s father being a Special Forces general, the man might have influence and arranged a position for his son in TRF, bypassing the standard procedures. But why my team?
He continued to question himself in a variety of ways, not finding any answers, but then something started to dawn on him. Does it really matter why? Nick regarded the lost and lonely man coping with the burden and heartache of killing his best friend, the man he considered his brother. No, the why doesn’t matter. What matters is he is here and in need of help.
The soft, strangled sobs, wrenched Nick’s heart. He suffered unimaginable loss himself when his wife and son died. Scanning the room, Nick considered each member of his new family. If not for his team, he might slip back to the bottom of a bottle of Canadian rye.
An ugly day almost ten years ago, Alpha Team responded to a critical call, and his world imploded. He found Janie lying on top of Martin next to their car in the preschool parking lot. She tried to shield Martin with her body, but the bullets went right through her and their son. His little boy appeared to be sleeping, but his tiny body was riddled with a dozen holes.
His eyes landed on Jon—the reason he crawled out of the bottle. Jon didn’t let him wallow in his misery. Their sons, Martin and Kent, had been the same age and Jon helped him realize he still had a family—just a different kind of family … a chosen one. Only two months into his sobriety he returned the favor and helped Jon recover after he had been shot in the Burl debacle. Those events forged their friendship.
Never far away, Nick longing for his son and wife resurged flooding his eyes with tears. Wiping them away, he contemplated Dan. The niggling thought he voiced to Jon a month ago crystallized. All of Dan’s reckless actions to safeguard others while putting his life in peril added up to one thing … suicide in the line of duty. Dan might be trying to get himself killed.
The fact he still lived signified Dan remained strong enough not to commit suicide by pulling the trigger himself. Though he possessed no governors on his actions, nothing to pull him back from the edge. It became clear now Dan didn’t value his life. He took unnecessary risks to protect the lives of others at the potential loss of his own.
Nick recognized he couldn’t save Martin, a senseless random act of violence which took him, but he would be damned if he would lose Dan. Fate placed Dan here. Their rookie needed saving. Alpha Team excelled at that—they possessed the best record for saving lives. Time to save the life of one of their own. A plan of action began to form. It won’t be easy, but we must try.
Lexa sank back to her heels, teary-eyed. Uncommon for her at work, but given the situation, not abnormal. He killed his brother. How can anyone ever recover from that? Here he is hurting so deeply, and all I did is treat him like he didn’t exist or be snarky to him when he needed support from someone the most. Lexa peered at Bram. He had been the first one to show any kindness to Dan. Her high opinion of Bram increased significantly.
Ray crossed arms as he clenched his fist to maintain control. He wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all, at Jon, and at himself. Have I changed all that much? I thought so, but perhaps not. I thoughtlessly hurt someone just like Jon. We should’ve been protecting Dan, not tearing him down. Ray assumed the rage part of his life was done and over with. Ray couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dan. If anyone failed, it was the team who failed Dan.
Dan’s words rocked Loki to his core. Attempting to sit, he missed the chair entirely. Now sitting on the floor, he stared at Dan. He should turn away and give him privacy as he cried, but he couldn’t. His mind raced with so many facts as he tried to sort them out and make sense.
Loki stopped on something important about green eyes as he made links. Dan said Brody had jade-green eyes. Their subject today wore fatigues, and his eyes were green. Is this why Dan didn’t shoot? Did Dan have a flashback and think James was Brody?
He buried his face in his hands. Flashback or not, Loki felt miserable for the way the team mistreated Dan—for the way he heartlessly treated a grief-stricken man. Loki realized Dan needed a friend and he resolved to become one and begin making amends.
Jon stared blindly out the window. He heard the gut-wrenching sobs coming from Dan. I’m a grade A asshole. Someone should just shoot me now. I threw vicious words in anger at the rookie. Killing me would be too easy a punishment. Perhaps tie me to a post and burn me alive would be more fitting for my heartless crimes.
Why do I lash out at him? Why does the rookie get under my skin? Why didn’t I listen to Nick and Bram? I chose words to inflict pain. Why? Why did I treat Dan so differently and with so much malice? Why’d I project my feelings about Burl and Alejandro onto Dan? Jon realized he must take a long, hard look at himself. He didn’t think he would like what he found when he did.
If he didn’t examine his motives, understand, and change his behavior, he had no business being tactical lead. His role included ensuring everyone came home safely at the end of the day. He failed to do that with Dan. Why not? Dammit, why?
When the sobs began to quiet, Bram predicted Dan would rein in his emotions and pull back. And from all he observed, he would lay money down he would revert to the unreadable face. But for now, Bram was glad Dan allowed even a modicum of comfort. As he continued to hold him, Bram wondered if Dan sought his family’s support in his time of sorrow. The only thing he knew about Dan’s family is that his father is a general. It must’ve been difficult for Dan to be under the command of his father. Perhaps his stoic nature comes from his upbringing.
Being a father himself, Bram presumed it was hard for the general to be the one ordering Dan into danger. Not that he grasped how orders for missions were handed down, but Bram supposed if he commanded his children and had been to order any of his girls on a mission which resulted in the death of their best friend, he would do anything in his power to assuage their pain and would carry a sense of guilt over the anguish he caused them.
Bram’s mind shifted as Dan’s soft cries ended. Anger welled up in him towards Jon. His friend became pigheaded at times. Despite that, until this day, Jon never hurt someone deliberately. But Jon’s callous words and actions towards Dan were deliberate. Bram couldn’t let that stand, and he wanted the tactical lead to feel the bite of his fists when he let Jon know just what he thought of his actions today.
Dan became aware of being embraced in someone’s strong arms. Mason? It must be Mason. The auburn-haired highland warrior was massive, both in body size and heart. I’m always safe near Mason.
He took a ragged, steadying breath in as more of his world came back into focus. As he realized Mason wasn’t holding him, Dan’s protective mask started sliding
into place. What the hell am I doing? He was crying on the floor of the briefing room in Bram’s arms.
A blush crept on his face, embarrassed at not being able to hold himself together. He made a complete and utter fool of himself in front of the people who didn’t give a damn about him. He would likely be the butt of their jokes for years to come. Dan could almost hear them laughing at him as they did in the ice cream parlor and at the muddy embankment. After locking his mask on to hide all emotion, Dan pulled back from Bram.
Bram released Dan the moment he moved back. “How are you doing, Dan?” Bram asked calmly.
“Fine,” Dan answered in a clipped voice.
The question and answer pulled everyone out of their contemplations.
Nick noted the unreadable expression was back in place. A new thought popped into his head. Dan wears a mask to shield his real emotions. A bit disconcerting to watch how fast Dan assumes the facade. Aware soldiers put away their feelings to deal with the horrors they witness, he sensed Dan’s veneer was not standard issue. Applied so swiftly and held so firmly, Nick believed Dan experienced a great deal of pain in his life.
Nick conceded the fact he had not been a real leader for the past three months. That changed now. “Debrief is over. Based on this call, I am requesting the team be given five days off. After you grab a shower, I will speak privately with each of you before you leave, beginning with Dan.”
He noted various reactions to his words. Jon appeared pissed. Bram’s expression a mix of fatherly concern and anger. Ray’s and Loki’s features revealed confusion and worry, likely thinking of Gambrill’s ultimatum. Lexa appeared concerned, but she held her emotions closer to the vest. He found Dan completely indecipherable again, and that scared him.
“We’re ending shift early.” When no one moved, Nick clapped his hands and said, “Shower, change, then return here. I will talk with you in conference room three. That’s a direct order.” He hit the button to open the door.
