Band of Bachelors: Alex, Book 2

by Sharon Hamilton

  The interior was thick with smoke but his night vision goggles clicked in after the initial blasts, and interior walls and doorways began to form. He heard children screaming and the staccato commands of guards who were scrambling for their weapons.

  He and Danny found the children huddled in one corner of the room with two women standing defiantly in front of them to protect them.

  “We’re from the United States of America, and we’re here to get you out.” Danny’s voice hung in the room like thick smoke. Through the wall of children out came Ali, who ran straight for the big SEAL. Danny kneeled to accept the hug of the little boy. “We’re bringing you home,” he said over Ali’s head.

  Alex guarded the doorway, hearing spotty gunfire and the ever-present “clear” as each room was searched and neutralized. He turned, counted ten children and three adults, and gave the count to Kyle and the others.

  “And looks like Danny has Ali.”

  “Anyone injured?” Kyle’s question was answered all around in the negative.

  “Kids appear okay,” said Danny.

  Jackie raced inside the room and spoke with the aid workers, who did not speak Pashtu. “Swedish. I need to go to language school in Monterey, learn some Swedish. My Russian is so poor, the Bulgarian girl cannot understand me,” he said as he shrugged.

  “You’re all right, Jackie. We like you just the way you are,” Alex reassured him.

  Alex asked the workers in English and crude sign language where the fourth was located and they pointed to a litter in the corner covered with a bloody rag.

  “Hold it, we got injured or worse, one of the workers. I’m checking now,” Alex said. He pulled back the sheet and found the chalky face of one of the Ugandan workers and checked for vital signs finding none. “One worker dead.” He recognized the bandages from the garbage bag. She’d suffered a large gash to her lower leg, hugely infected and still swollen at the time of her death. Her body wasn’t yet stiff so the death had occurred within the past few hours.

  “Hey, Danny and Jackie, we gotta be ready to move out,” Alex reminded his teammate who was hugging the children and giving them water and small granola bar rations. Jackie was explaining to the children they would be going on a helicopter ride soon. That news was met with much enthusiasm.

  Kyle appeared from down the hall. “We’re all clear, Alex. Let’s get these kids out the back.”

  “None of them have shoes. We’re gonna have to carry them,” he told his LPO.

  “Okay, hear that? Everyone who isn’t gathering intel, we need help with the hostages.”

  One by one the children and three remaining workers were carried over the rubble of the back wall, herded together and led on foot back toward their bunker. The familiar whosh, whosh, whosh of the birds was music to Alex’ ears.

  A box of cell phones and some maps were recovered. An old computer was also taken, but looked like it hadn’t been used in months. As Alex left with one of the girls, he glanced back, stopping to watch Coop and T.J. gathering blood samples from the four KIAs. One of them appeared to be a boy of around ten years of age. T.J. was swearing profusely.

  “Looks just like this kid,” Coop whispered, pointing to a teen who lay dead beside him. Everyone scrambled with their precious cargo, some holding two kids, and exited what was left of the crumbling building within seconds.

  Mark ran back to gather their duty bags left in the bunker and to sign off with the Kurdish fighters.

  Everyone was safely loaded. Ali was in Danny’s lap and clung to him with all the energy he could muster. Alex heard Danny reassure him he was taking him home. “California, Ali. You’re going to California.”

  Alex watched the faces of the other children, some girls but mostly boys and all below the age of nine or ten, when they heard the word California. He could see there was hope that those plans might include them as well. Alex wished he could take them all, wished he could forever protect them from the horrors they must have witnessed in a war that was already underway the day they were born.

  As they lifted off Armando clung to his perch in the doorway of one of the other Black Hawks while Alex guarded his. They could see a line of lights as a small convoy was heading toward the building they’d just liberated. He was surprised to see the air clear of counterattack measures from the ground.

  As they ascended further and headed north to Turkish air space, Alex pulled back to take his seat amongst several of the children, one worker and two SEALs. Mark was chattering. Everyone was elated the mission had gone off without a casualty. Before long, two little girls were wrapped around his upper torso, crying into his uniform. He murmured unfamiliar words to the tops of their heads he knew they fully understood though they spoke no English.

  “You shoulda seen those Kurds, man,” Mark began. “I got the bags, I thanked them, called them brother, we high-fived it, and they just walked into the countryside and disappeared into thin air. No one was coming for them, they just walked out. I’m telling you, those guys are tough.”

  Alex wondered what was going through their minds when they saw the Americans and the hostages being flown to safety, if there was such a place in the region. But he understood the fight was on their turf and they had innocents of their own they needed to go home to and protect. The mission was over, but the war continued and probably would for many years to come.

  Alex began to relax as he leaned against the seat and allowed himself to breathe in fresh mechanical-scented air.

  I’m going home.

  Chapter 23

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  Sydney got the call she’d been hoping for.

  “I’m back on US soil.”

  “Oh, so wonderful to hear your voice, Alex. Did everything work out?”

  “Yup, about as good as it could have.”

  “Where were you exactly?”

  “Sorry, sweetheart, no details over the phone. And I have to run, but wanted you to know I’m safely back.”

  “Thanks. I’m so relieved. So when will I see you again?”

  “Not for a while. We have debriefing to do and interviews, like exit interviews. I’m going to be tied up for at least two weeks before I can get back there. It would be the same if you came down here, too.”

  Sydney was disappointed, but she knew it came with the territory. “I got it. Well, call when we can chat a bit. I’ll let you go, then.”

  After another brief good-bye, they hung up.

  He had not asked her how things had been going on her end. The call, after such a dangerous separation, was all too brief. She knew she should reel in her emotions and deal with the reality that it would always be a tug of war of priorities, but because of the nature of what he did, his life and career would most likely come first. She had never had this type of relationship with a man before, since Sydney was usually the one in control. She wondered as the weeks went by how this would settle with her.

  Missing her dad was the most painful part of growing up. Maybe that’s why she had such a tough exterior to most guys. Maybe that’s why she tried so hard in everything she did. Was she making up for something she’d lost and would never find again? A man who unconditionally loved her, like her father? Or an adult relationship with someone who wouldn’t abandon her like her mother?

  She attributed her thoughts on these matters to a lack of focus and vowed to pound it out of herself. Over the next few days, she threw herself into the new job and her training with Carly. Some evenings they’d sit at her apartment and watch matches of the AVP qualifying tour. They caught up on gossip about the players they both knew.

  Her conversations with Alex were the highlights of her week. Although awkward not being able to talk about his work, she told him what she was doing and he encouraged her.

  “You find little things to focus on, make up stories in your head when it seems you’re at an impasse. You remind yourself you can do way more than you thought,” he said one day.

  “Don’t you have doubts?”

 
“Every day. But I trust the training. I trust the men I work with.”

  “Okay, I get that. You assume you have the skills, you just work to apply them.”

  “Exactly,” Alex answered. “I’ll bet you’re way too hard on yourself. The only times I doubt are when I think of all the things that could go wrong. That’s not a place I go. If I feel that way, then I haven’t trained enough. Train for every eventuality.”

  Though she would have preferred to speak about other things, the fact that he was talking about something he was passionate about, gave her some hope. He wasn’t keeping everything to himself.

  “I agree, Alex. Everyone is always looking for the most talented athletes. What they sometimes overlook is their dedication to their training. You’ve heard the stories too, about future Hall of Fame athletes who got beat out on school teams because others were better players. But when those players didn’t practice or hone their skills, they were passed over in favor of the athlete who would train so hard he’d become great.”

  “Yup. You got it.”

  “Someone wrote a book about talent being overrated.”

  “Everyone wants the short cut. Only the few greats are willing to dedicate themselves to their work.” The awkward silence lingered until he broke it. “Buy the way, speaking of being prepared, I meant to tell you that several months ago we had an altercation with a home-grown terrorist cell up there in Cloverdale. We think they got rooted out, but stay safe. Keep your eyes and ears open always.”

  Sydney had never heard about this and decided she’d ask Carly tonight.

  Hanging up was one of the hardest things she had to do, and she couldn’t wait to see him again. He was still postponing coming up to visit, blaming it on his change in work situation, which annoyed her. And though logically she couldn’t put her finger on it, she was feeling him distancing himself from her with each phone call. They needed time alone together again. The loss of the intensity between them was beginning to sting, but she tried not to let it show in her conversations.

  She was put in charge of working with some of the younger, inexperienced coaches. Sydney discovered she was good negotiating with parents. Playing time was always a sensitive subject. Many of the young coaches who worked with teams at Beach had difficulty expressing themselves or speaking with authority. Sydney had no problem with this and often helped bridge the gap. And there were also times when her direct approach was too much. There were occasionally tears on the part of the coaches or the players. She had her share of fierce conversations with parents out of earshot of their daughters. She asked several to leave their program.

  But what was difficult for some also made her worthy of respect with others, who knew her no-nonsense style was like a brick wall. The Beach’s general manager made her the director of coaching, and with it came a raise. After barely three weeks on the job, she was making a serious impact on the operations of the gym.

  The competition for college-level play was even worse than when she was in high school. College scholarship monies had to be shared across several women’s sports teams now, not just volleyball. And while volleyball was popular, it didn’t bring in the revenue for the schools like football, baseball or sometimes soccer. This increased pressure made it so a girl who might be talented would have no chance competing for the best schools unless she had more than just school team experience. Sydney’s summer camp program filled up within days after it was announced on their website.

  Sydney began a scholarship for players who could not afford the league fees, subsidized by several local businesses. It was just a small first start to something she hoped would expand. She began to talk about their programs at civic group meetings, and a very favorable article was printed in the local newspaper.

  When it came time to promote their league season launch party, she created a volunteer group to do community outreach. Their group targeted some neighborhoods with high refugee populations where she knew funds would be lacking, and she’d met several promising young players who would never have been exposed to volleyball or have had a chance at a college scholarship.

  It was delivering on the promise to the community as well as her personal convictions that sports for young women was very important to their development. She wanted to see that every girl who wanted to play could find a team regardless of the family’s financial situation. It made her proud to be part of such an organization and to share her American lifestyle, especially with those who sought sanctuary in this country.

  And although making the AVP circuit was still her goal, she could see a life for herself outside her own volleyball play.

  The new work must be satisfying, she thought, because each night she crashed into bed, often forgetting to change into her night clothes. Mornings came too soon.

  But then she began to feel her energy waning during the play. Carly noticed and, true to their commitment to each other, one day after practice spoke the truth that Sydney was just becoming aware of.

  “You getting enough sleep, Sydney?” She poured water over her head and waited for her answer.

  “God yes. That’s all I do when I get home. I’m beginning to think working with so many people, you know, the coaches, parents, and the players, it’s taken more out of me than I’d thought.”

  “You just seem to run out of steam. Not like before.”

  “I’m adjusting. We both have a lot on our plate.”

  But over the next week, she began wondering when the tiredness would go away, and if there wasn’t something more serious wrong with her.

  Alex was leaving for a two-week training exercise in Alaska, and hinted perhaps he’d come up for a quick visit the following weekend, which thrilled her. She lay in bed, dreaming what it would be like to see him again, and mourning the fact she wouldn’t be able to talk to him for what seemed like an eternity. Watching the reflection of the early morning sun play across her ceiling, she shook her head at what a sap she’d become. How she’d worried he was perhaps losing interest. She almost felt lazy, wallowing in—what was it? Whatever she and Alex had to work out, she was confident their next meeting would send all the doubts away.

  Showtime!

  She rolled out of bed, stood to stretch, and immediately was hit with nausea. She ran to the bathroom and threw up, but as she looked at her face in the mirror afterward, she realized she could count on one hand the number of times she’d been that sick to her stomach.

  And then she knew. Of course, she’d have to verify it, but the way she’d been feeling over the past days came flooding back to her.

  On her way to the gym she stopped by the drug store. After her morning setup routine, she went into the stall bathroom and conducted the urine test and watched the results appear with her own eyes.

  I’m pregnant.

  Chapter 24

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  Alex had been ruminating over the discussion he’d had with Kyle and Lieutenant Garrison two weeks before.

  “We think you might have what it takes, son, to be part of our DevGru Team. You’d have to try out, of course, and I won’t lie, most men find it even more challenging than the BUD/S training. Question is, is this something you can see yourself doing?”

  He watched Kyle’s stoic face and was given neither encouragement nor doubt. Kyle was going to leave it entirely up to him.

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered.” Alex had met a couple of the Team 6 guys at joint operations before their last deployment. They were the stuff of legends. They were often referred to as the professional players. Kyle’s group was one of the best squads of any of the Teams, but DevGru was the place where the big boys played and played hard. He knew them also to be made up of a bunch of crazies who occasionally strayed off the farm.

  “You think it over. It will be four months before the physical tryouts. We have about the same percentage of passes as BUD/S, so you’ll want to get into the best shape of your life, or it will literally kick you on your butt. You understand?”

 
“Yes, sir.”

  “I have things I have to go over on my end if you decide to give it a try, so make sure you come with a firm decision.”

  “How long do I have?”

  Kyle stood up from his perch sitting on the edge of the Lieutenant’s desk. “Most men say yes to the LT, Kowicki. But the formal answer to that question is, yesterday.”

  That little conversation had changed his entire focus. All of a sudden, he had to ask himself if he was ready for that level of commitment. He couldn’t deny that he’d found a family in SEAL Team 3, and leaving them would be like cutting off his arm. If he didn’t make the workup, there was also no guarantee there’d be a spot on Kyle’s squad if he detached.

  He was hesitant to discuss it with any of his bachelor friends. Coop was off at a medical training in North Carolina. Lucas was still having child custody issues with his ex, Connie. The ensuing battle was postponing his marriage to Marcy. That’s all Lucas talked about, and it used to entertain him but now was annoying. Danny was settling in with Ali, getting his medical checkup and shots and dealing with a host of issues he’d inherited by bringing the boy stateside without permission. No one had the heart to tell him he couldn’t come with Danny, but the fallout was considerable. It was even threatening Danny’s career.

  So Alex decided to risk a conversation with Kyle.

  “I can’t help you there, Kowicki. Just some guys know it’s for them. For me, when they asked me, I’d just made this Team’s LPO, which is what they do. They not only want leaders, but good operators too.”

  “How did you decide?”

  “I didn’t look at them and say to myself, hey, that’s me.”