by KaLyn Cooper
At noon, an alarm went off on Xena’s cell phone. “Ryker, time to make contact with Ajax.”
He followed her out of the operations center into the bright sunshine and handed her a bottle of water. All morning they’d been surrounded by others, acting completely professional. It felt nice to be alone with her again.
“Thanks.” She concentrated on punching in the numbers, so he grabbed the bottle back and cracked it open. As the phone rang and rang and rang, she guzzled the water, tipping back her long sensitive neck. But she wasn’t offering it to him to kiss or nuzzle.
Cutting the connection, Xena announced, “We’ll try again in five minutes.
“Do you think he’s okay?” Ryker worried about his brother. He had no idea what plans had been made on Ajax’s end.
“I got a text earlier today that he arrived at Striker’s camp. He’s former Army SpecOps and a great guy. He knew exactly where the Eritrean rebels had taken the other two SEALs. Last I heard from him, they were heading closer to the site.”
“So, Ajax has a team going with him?” That idea made Ryker feel even better about what his brother was facing.
“A solid team. They’ve seen lots of action with the Eritrean rebels. They are very familiar with how they operate. Striker has had men watching the cave for days.”
“They’re in a cave?” More than once, Ryker and his SEAL team had been sent to rescue someone from a cave in Afghanistan. He was well aware of the problems and situations that could arise for his brother. On the good side, this wouldn’t be the first time Ajax had a cave rescue.
At the beep, Xena tried again. No answer.
“Next contact, twelve twenty-five.” Xena set her alarm.
One of the small trucks that seemed to zip around her father’s base backed up to the office door. Two men in white kitchen uniforms unlocked the back and pulled out trays.
“Let’s grab some lunch while we have to wait,” she suggested.
In two trips to the little truck, the men had a complete buffet set up in the office including pitchers of juice.
When she was sure the men were gone, Xena opened the secret door to the operations center and yelled, “Lunch is served.” She looked at Ryker. “Grab a plate now because there will be hardly anything left if we wait until after we talked to Ajax.”
Ryker didn’t need to be told twice that it was wise to eat now. He and Xena filled their plates and took them back outside. At the designated time, she redialed the phone.
“Birdman.” Ajax’s voice was such a relief even though he was breathing hard.
Xena had a mouthful of food, so Ryker took the phone. “Oh good. I was worried. Are you on track?”
“Yes. You?”
“Yes.” Ryker wanted to add that they were planning to practice for several hours that afternoon and he’d feel a hell of a lot better after they ran through plans A, B, and C. Then he remembered the purpose of the call. “We’re a go for oh-four-hundred.”
“Got it. Oh-four-hundred. Good luck, brother.” Ajax gave him their usual sign-off just before they were heading into danger.
Ryker replied with his. “You two. See you on the other side, brother.”
“God willing.” Ajax ended the call.
Chapter 22
At oh-three-fifty, Xena had called for a final count.
“Alpha two, ready.” Ryker gave his designation for that op. Damn straight he was ready. After hours of consideration and debate, plan A was to drive the truck out of the camp taking his teammates to helicopters waiting a few miles away.
If the rebels had disabled the truck, it would get fixed. Earlier that evening, Digger’s best mechanic and five members from Clint’s team had swooped into a mining site and stripped important parts from a fleet truck identical to the one holding the Navy SEALs.
If there was a bomb attached to the truck, two additional men, trained in ordnance disposal, were on Xena’s team to find and dismantle it.
Ryker’s job was to get the back of the truck open and make contact with the four SEALs inside.
The rest of Xena’s team would shoot anybody who tried to stop them.
Clint controlled the team that would go directly to the girls tied to trees and free them. His men would get them to the waiting helicopters. With Xena’s permission, Tracker had joined that team for this mission.
Digger’s team was to push the rebels away from the truck.
It was a hell of a plan. Even with all the contingencies they’d considered, something would go wrong. It always did.
At one minute to go-time, Ryker thought about Ajax and sent a prayer to heaven asking for protection for both of them.
“On my countdown.” Digger’s voice came through clearly. “Three…two…one...GO!”
The teams moved in silently. Dressed all in black, their faces covered with grease paint and NVGs, the rescue started as planned. Several of the guards surrounding the truck were asleep so Xena’s team took them out with knives.
Crouching low, keeping to the shadows, he approached the white truck. Anticipating several locks and chains, Ryker pulled out the bolt cutters. He wanted to laugh. No one had bothered to lock the back doors. Perhaps since they’d had their captives for so long, rescue was completely beyond their purview.
Xena signaled to him that she was going on top of the truck, taking the high ground.
He gave her a thumbs-up.
The truck driver’s door creaked for half a second then stopped. Anticipating this possibility, Digger had handed the driver a one-inch can of WD-40.
Ryker slithered under the back of the truck, the low steel bumper hiding most of him. Using his red penlight, he checked for bombs attached to the back doors. There was nothing underneath the truck except thick, dried mud. He felt a slight shift in the truck when the driver crawled in.
That was Ryker’s cue. He needed to be inside the box before the driver started the vehicle. Rolling out from under the bumper, Ryker pulled open one side of the back doors and swung his body inside, closing the doors immediately.
His NVGs were useless since there wasn’t a drop of light, so he flipped them to infrared. He knelt near Pitbull and shook him hard. “Wake up,” Ryker said above a whisper. “Pitbull, it’s me, Trek.”
It had been nearly four months since he’d heard his handle. Using it felt strange especially coming from his own lips. Lately, everyone called him by his first name, which was fine with him. He hated his handle. Back in BUD/S, an instructor said his name sounded like he belonged on Star Trek and started calling him that. Eventually, it just got shortened to Trek.
His friend barely moved, but he didn’t wake up. Ryker went to the next man. “Keebler.” He shook Larson Aldrich then lightly smacked his cheek, but the man didn’t respond. Fearing he might be dead, Ryker laid two fingers along his carotid artery. He had a pulse but it was extremely slow. He repeated the process with Viper and Loki.
The men were out cold.
That confirmed their thoughts. His friends had been drugged. Since the doctor on staff at Digger’s base had no idea what they’d used to drug them, he hesitated before preparing an injection for each man. Quickly, Ryker pulled out the small box with filled needles. As instructed, he plunged one into the thigh of each of his friends.
He then went to work on the chains. The bolt cutters he’d brought released them from the walls, but the handcuffs were unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Xena had equipped him with several kinds of handcuff keys, but none would fit. They would have to deal with them later.
“Starting the vehicle,” the driver announced through the comm system.
Ryker braced. All hell was about to break loose.
It was a good thing his friends were on the floor. Ryker had no idea how thick the walls were, but he doubted they would stop a machine gun bullet. Dragging their limp bodies up against the cab side made Ryker wish he hadn’t ignored daily exercise for those three months.
The engine kicked over and sputtered.
&n
bsp; Fuck. That was going to wake up everybody in camp. Part of Ryker was hoping for a clean escape. The other part was looking forward to a good old firefight.
The engine roared to life, and he heard yelling voices through the walls of the box.
Flashbangs. Machine gun fire. Ryker tried to count and identify the different weapons and their locations in case they had to go to plan B.
The truck started to move, and he wanted to jump up and down with joy.
Ryker wished he would’ve asked the doctor how long it took before that medicine woke them up. Minutes? Hours?
Bullets bounced off the metal cab as the truck rocked side to side through deep ruts but kept moving forward.
Gunfire erupted from above him. The brass casings plinked on the roof like metallic hail.
Two thumps indicated Xena was moving into the cab to literally ride shotgun.
They must be close to the road.
When the truck made a sharp turn, his friends’ floppy bodies rolled into him, knocking him off his feet.
Ryker heard moans.
“Fuck. They’re moving us again.”
Ryker scrambled to his feet, trying to determine who was talking.
They all rolled one more time as the truck swayed.
“My fucking head hurts.” The voice was so dry and raspy Ryker couldn’t identify it.
The road smoothed out and the truck picked up speed.
Ryker reached into his pack and pulled out four bottles of water. When his friends reached consciousness, they were going to be thirsty. Hungry, too.
“Keebler, Pitbull, Viper, Loki. It’s me, Trek.” He grabbed some chemical luminaries and cracked them before he lifted his goggles. The back of the truck filled with an eerie green light.
“Fuck.” the word came out as three syllables.
Ryker recognized that voice. “Viper, it’s me, Trek. We’re saving your sorry asses.”
“No. I must be hallucinating. Fucking drugs. He’s all green. Fuck. It’s a ghost. Can’t be him. Trek is dead.” Keebler’s voice shook as though in fear.
“Larson. Larson Aldrich.” Ryker hoped that perhaps by using Keebler’s real name he’d come to his senses quicker. “It really is me.” He picked up his friend’s hand and squeezed it.
“Does this mean we’re all dead, too?” Keebler asked.
“Fuck. No. None of us are dead,” Ryker insisted. “You guys have been given so many drugs you don’t know what’s real. You’ll feel better after a few days in the hospital.”
They turned another corner and Ryker heard the distinct whomp, whomp, whomp of big helicopters.
Loki sat up. “I hear choppers. These assholes don’t have helicopters.”
“I hear them too.” Viper turned to embrace Loki.
“That’s what I’ve been telling you.” Ryker passed out water bottles. “You’ve been rescued. Now, sip those. You’re all extremely dehydrated but drink it too fast and you’ll throw up.”
He dove into his backpack again and distributed cups of orange Jell-O.
“Look, Trek brought Jell-O shots. I think I love you.” Loki, always the comic.
The truck came to an abrupt stop and the body tilted to one side.
Ryker thought he knew where he was, but he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure. He slung the rifle off his back into shooting position. “Stay down,” he whispered. “Pretend you’re still knocked out.”
He heard the shuffling behind him as he crept toward the door. The right side had to open first so he crouched near its hinges, gun pointed at the soon-to-be opening. The clank of the latch releasing was his warning.
Ryker looked down the barrel of his machine gun.
“I know you probably want to shoot me, but I wouldn’t if I were you. Xena would never forgive you.” Blade hopped into the back of the truck. “Quit pretending you’re asleep. I can smell the orange Jell-O. Now, can any of you squids walk?”
“Were not squids,” Ryker corrected. “We’re frogs.”
“I don’t give a shit what you call yourselves. I just need to know who I have to carry.” Blade’s gaze swept over the four men.
“Keebler. His leg was broken in the blast, and we couldn’t get it set straight.” Pitbull pointed to his friend as he started to stand up. “I can walk.”
Ryker wanted to help him, but Pitbull smacked his arm away. He wasn’t exactly walking. It was more like an old man shuffle.
Viper gave Loki a hand up. “Holden, here, has a broken arm. They thought it was funny to keep breaking it and not allowing it to heal.” The two men helped each other to the end of the box. Ryker jumped down and helped them onto the ground.
“I’m not sure I could ride in another transport vehicle again.” Viper stared at the truck. “We’ve been in that box since the day after we were captured.”
“Sorry, man, but you’re about to get a helicopter ride. If you’re lucky, someone may push you to the infirmary in the only wheelchair we have.” Blade helped Pitbull into the Huey after he picked up Keebler and placed him in a seat.
“You’re not coming with us?” Viper asked.
“No. Now that you’re safe, I have a shit ton of rebels to kill.” That wasn’t part of the official plan, but it was Ryker’s plan. He hoped he could find a way back into the fighting.
“Kill a few of those fuckers for me.” Viper said before he climbed into the helicopter.
“Kill ‘em all. There isn’t a decent man among them.” Loki’s gaze and words were filled with such hatred which was the complete opposite of the man he’d known for years.
“I’ll do my best.” Ryker pulled the door closed. He hoped the mercenary base’s doctor could give them some physical relief soon.
Ryker looked around for Xena and found her climbing back into the truck as it started to take off. He sprinted to catch up and jumped onto the running boards on the passenger side.
“You were supposed to go with them back to base. The American news will have a fit if they find out that a Navy SEAL was involved in the Ethiopian civil conflict.”
“Move over,” he commanded and slid onto the seat beside her.
“First, that would mean that the ambush and capture of six Navy SEALs would be made public and whoever was involved, and it must go pretty fucking high up the chain of command, was in a hell of a lot of trouble.” Ryker counted off on his fingers as the truck bumped its way back to the rebel camp. “Second, I’m no longer a Navy SEAL. Whoever orchestrated this entire cover-up saw to that. Third, since I’ve been seen with your dad’s mercenaries, I’m quite sure we could spin a story that I joined them. Fourth, I don’t believe people in the United States really and truly give a shit about the Ethiopian civil war. Fifth, my friends and I deserve more than a little revenge.”
The driver pulled the truck into the woods on the west side.
“Turn the truck around and wait here,” Xena instructed. “Clint’s men will be bringing the girls in just a few minutes. They ran into some trouble trying to escape the camp. They were pinned down for about fifteen minutes until Daddy’s team could fight their way to them.”
“Is everybody okay?” Ryker asked.
“Pretty much. A few got shot but they’re all still alive. Daddy is sending everybody who is hurt to the truck then flying them out of here.” She bumped his shoulder with hers. “Let’s go kick some ass.”
Xena’s communication unit was also connected to her brother and her father. They met up with her team and started sweeping through the camp.
Over the next hour, there were a few exchanges of fire, but none lasted long. Ryker wasn’t sure he’d ever get even for the torture they put him and his brothers through. But his personal mission in Ethiopia wasn’t over.
“Anybody seen Yared?” Digger asked everyone. To keep calm channels clean, etiquette demanded you only answer if affirmative.
“He and his senior staff bugged out as soon as the truck left,” someone answered.
“Don’t worry, Daddy, we’ve got video.
I’m curious to see if Kofi Tamru knew about all this.” Xena replied on a private channel.
Fighting interrupted from their right several hundred yards away.
“Xena, I think you’re behind these guys. Can you bring your team? We’ll catch them in the crossfire.” Clint’s request was often drowned out by gunfire.
“We’re on our way.” With Ryker by her side, her team evenly spaced out, they swept their way to a group of eight rebels who had Clint’s team in their sites.
She gave the signal, and all the rebels were down within thirty seconds.
“You should be clear, Clint.”
“Thanks, sis. These were the last we’ve found. Heading to the extraction point.” Her brother and his team emerged from the darkness. “Dad’s already on his way there.”
“We’re right behind you.” Xena gave the hand signal and her men closed in. “Good job. I’m so proud of every one of you. We’re heading to the extraction point. Stay vigilant. An injured soldier can still kill. José, take point.”
As soon as her men started to walk away, Xena touched Ryker’s arm and gave him the hold signal.
What the hell is she doing? It’s over. We can leave.
“Ryker, now that your friends are free, I know you’re going to go after the person responsible for the ambush, the capture of your friends, this whole clusterfuck. You don’t have to look any further. This is all my fault.”
“What the hell you talking about?” Ryker couldn’t understand.
“Blade and I picked up your team in Djibouti. You jumped out of the same helicopter twice. We knew you were coming the night before and we knew that your mission was to kill Kofi Tamru.” Xena swallowed so loud he could hear. “I’m so sorry. I was at an embassy party the night before. Tamru was part of almost every conversation. While talking with some members of the embassy staff, I mentioned that very soon he would no longer be a problem for the elected government. I don’t know who heard me and used that information to set up the ambush. But that doesn’t matter.”
Tears streaked down her cheeks. “See, I was the reason.” She held his gaze. “I couldn’t tell you before because I had to make sure your men were free. Now you are too.”
