Forgive & Forget (Love in the Fleet)

by Ashby, Heather

  He forced himself to focus on his priorities: Ship, shipmate, self.

  Only the officers and chiefs had been given the specific details: McCabe was being held at gunpoint by a disgruntled OS2 Davis, who was wired to explode. He’d conveniently allowed five suicide dhows to literally slip under the radar and gain access to the inner zone. There were roughly fifteen OS watchstanders in the space that would die if the bastard blew up. Despite the guilt Philip felt about it, his overriding concern was that OS2 Davis had a gun to Hallie’s head.

  Philip removed all thoughts of her from his brain. If they didn’t get moving faster and those dhows got into range, the entire ship could be in mortal danger. One spark in the wrong place would set off the jet fuel and/or the weapons magazines. They had to be underway in order to launch the planes. The helos would be airborne already, but the fixed-wing planes needed thirty plus knots of wind in order to take off. And with next to no wind tonight, it meant they’d have to travel that much faster to generate the required wind to launch a fully loaded F-18.

  It gave him hope knowing Sky was probably already up there, searching out the dhows. And once Sky was airborne, his crew would be locked and loaded and ready to fire.

  This is what you’ve trained for, Sky. Go get those sons of bitches!

  He couldn’t let thoughts of Hallie distract him. And he couldn’t think about his men—and woman—down here in the hole, within spitting distance of the reactor spaces. Close to where the dhows would hit if they didn’t get the fucking ship moving faster. The ship came first. Then he could worry about his division and the woman he loved who currently had a gun held to her head—and then, and only then, would he consider thinking about himself.

  The hell with himself.

  He had to focus on doing his part in getting the ship underway. He hoped and prayed Hallie and the duty OSs could hold on until Security—or more likely the embarked SEAL team—could neutralize the asshole who was set to blow in Combat. He knew the men would have the brawn to do it and Hallie certainly had the brains. Who better to manipulate that sorry fucker than Hallie McCabe?

  What had her mom called her? A daughter with balls?

  “Well, this would be the time to pull ’em out and use ’em, honey,” Philip mumbled under his breath. It was the last thing he did before an explosion rocked his world and everything went black.

  A thud shuddered through CDC, strong enough for Hallie to lose her balance. She reacted quickly, afraid Davis would think she was moving of her own accord.

  “What the hell was that?” Davis said, glancing around.

  Hallie grabbed his attention before he could turn to see Dixon making his way toward them on the deck. “Maybe it’s one of the fishing boats that got through.” She got right up into Rashid’s face and turned the charm on full blast, praying he wouldn’t see how badly her hands were shaking. “Look, you are a good man. You’ve just had a bad experience. Please, come with me. Let’s get away while we can.”

  Her peripheral vision reported that Dixon had worked his way out from under the console and into plain sight. She willed her eyes not to look over Davis’s shoulder.

  Every cell in her body screamed at Rashid: Do not look behind you!

  Dixon would need another minute to get close enough and then what? She knew if he jumped Davis now and knocked him forward, the bomb could go off. But what other choice did they have? Maybe if she stood in front of Davis, he’d fall against her and—

  But Davis was done pussy footing around. “There’s no more time for this crap. All kinds of shit’s going on out there. It’s time to do my part. Kiss your asses goodbye. We’re going to Paradise, folks!”

  He laughed. He actually laughed.

  Rashid opened his camouflage shirt, exposing the explosives. His fingers fondled the top of the plunger as he smiled at her with eyes that were now cold and dead. She picked her heart up off the deck and prayed for long life.

  In one swift move, Dixon lunged for Rashid’s back, yanking his arms behind him. “You son of a bitch!” Dixon cried out. The gun fell free to the deck and Hallie grabbed for it out of blind instinct. She pointed it at Davis. Her minimal weapons training kicked in from somewhere. But what about the bomb?

  “You think I’m afraid of a gun, McCabe? You shoot me and the bomb goes off. We’re all going to die one way or the other.” He struggled against Dixon, trying to free his arms to push in the plunger.

  Dixon yelled, “Shoot him, McCabe! Shoot him!”

  “The bomb! I’ll hit the bomb!”

  Davis wrapped a foot around Dixon’s leg, tripping him, and as the two fell backward, one of Davis’s arms came free. He reached for the plunger, grinning madly. “This is for you, Rosie!”

  Hallie cried, “Duck, Dixon!” and blew the grin right off Rashid’s face.

  Chapter 29

  “Freeze!” Dixon yelled. “Nobody move!”

  Hallie had slammed her eyes shut and prayed she didn’t hit both of them, or the bomb, when she’d pulled the trigger. Her heart started beating again, because Dixon sounded strong, and apparently she was still alive. They all were.

  Except Davis.

  She felt herself slipping into shock, but willed her body not to move, except to lower the gun and open her eyes. She glanced around madly, avoiding the carnage on the deck, refusing to poison her mind with the vision. Turning just her head, she met Commander Haggman’s eyes. How she wished she could remove the tape from his mouth so he could take charge, but she didn’t dare move.

  He nodded to her as if he could read her mind.

  “Talk to me, Dixon!” called out the senior chief OS.

  “Except for dripping in who-the-fuck-knows-what, I think I’m okay.”

  Hallie gagged, swallowed, refused to look.

  Dixon spit. “I don’t think you hit me, McCabe, but I’m sure as hell not moving ’til this bomb is defused to find out.”

  The senior chief took over, addressing the CDC Officer and then the men. “Sir, I’m going to take the con until we can get you free. The person closest to the door, walk out very carefully.”

  “No! Don’t move.” Hallie reported to the air. “This is MC2 McCabe. We have a bomb in CDC. Send EOD ASAP. The suicide bomber is dead, but he’s wired with explosives and we don’t know what to do. Maybe…maybe twenty personnel in here. Send help now!”

  Every head turned as the inner-door to CDC opened and a suited-up explosive ordnance disposal team slowly filed in. “Make a hole! Make a hole!” the leader said and the line of OS watchstanders parted like the Red Sea.

  The senior chief was stunned. “How’d you do that, McCabe?”

  “The audio portion of the camera was broadcasting through the wireless system the entire time. The digital signal feeds a monitor in Public Affairs. Thank God somebody up there was listening. EOD must have been waiting in the passageway.”

  “Damn, I’ll never trash the press again in my life. Good job, cameraman.”

  “Don’t thank me,” James replied from the deck, still lying stock-still. “McCabe turned it on when she went for the lights.”

  “Whoa, McCabe! You’re a McHero!” cried the senior chief without moving. “You too, Dixon. You both deserve a medal for this.”

  “Keep your medal, Senior. Just get me out of this clusterfuck,” Dixon mumbled, as if afraid to move his lips.

  “Don’t anybody move,” one of the EOD techs from the bomb squad said in a surprisingly calm voice. “Except those of you behind me. You’re cleared to exit this space and report directly to Medical for evaluation. The rest of you stay where you are for now.”

  For the first time since this bizarre ordeal started, the reality of what just happened—that she’d killed a man—soaked in. Hallie’s body began to shake uncontrollably. She willed herself to remain calm but panic was rapidly winning t
he battle. Her stomach threatened to slide from her body, the way the blood was draining from her face. Her hands grew cold. The gun still held tightly in her right. She wanted it out of her hand now. But no way she was going to move. Hallie had the rest of her life to move freely. And she hoped that would be a long, long time.

  But not now.

  She refused to pass out, or look at the two bodies entwined on the deck in front of her. She brushed aside every horrible thought and picture that tried to invade her brain, filing them away into a little compartment she would deal with later.

  Besides they weren’t out of the woods yet. There was still a bomb to defuse.

  Turning her head a fraction of an inch, she saw the Combat Officer still taped and gagged, his eyes focused on the EOD squad. He caught her glance and his eyes softened as he nodded to her. She felt her mouth tremble, but he nodded again repeatedly, trying to tell her that everything was okay.

  Just hold on.

  She couldn’t turn far enough to see any of the other OSs, some standing, some probably still lying on the deck. And James was back there too. Thank you, sweet Jesus, there was someone she knew. Someone she could hold on to once they could move. And she wanted to hug Dixon and make sure she hadn’t hurt him, once he was cleaned up. She quickly filed away what he must look like right now. And Davis. Holy Mother of God, she had just shot him in the…the hell with the rules of no touching. Hallie knew somebody needed to hold her pretty soon or she was going to come apart at the seams.

  Philip.

  She’d locked Philip away in another corner of her brain and now she almost lost it. What was that last unexplainable thud that reverberated through the ship. It certainly wasn’t a plane launching. What if the ship had been hit? What if he was down in the hole? What if—?

  No, she couldn’t go there.

  Two members of the EOD team were now moving past her. Slowly. “Everybody just stay calm and don’t move until we tell you to.”

  “Holy shit,” one of them muttered under his breath as he approached what must have been Davis’ faceless body draped over Dixon. “Okay,” he said to the other one. “Looks like a standard ‘do-it-yourself Saturday Night Special’ from the Internet.” He turned back to face all of them. “Listen up. We’re going to get the rest of you out of here before we dismantle this bomb. One by one, starting with the person closest to the door, I want you to slowly walk out. And do not even think of slamming it.” Turning to Commander Haggman, he smiled and said, “We’ll cut you loose as soon as they’re all out of here, sir.”

  While the OS watchstanders slowly filed out, he noticed the gun in Hallie’s hand. “Don’t tell me you did this, McCabe.”

  All she could do was nod her head yes; her chest tight, her jaw clenched, her eyes still averted from the bodies.

  “Bravo Zulu! Damn good job. You managed to kill this fucker without setting off the bomb or taking his cuddle buddy with him? We’re going to have to cross deck you to Gunner’s Mate.”

  How could they joke about this?

  Hallie sucked in a breath, exhaled deeply, and ordered her face not to crumple into tears. She was not going to lose it in front of these men. She was Hallie, “Strong in War.” But the horror of what had just happened hit with a nauseating wave and kept trying to seep out of the tightly closed compartment in her mind.

  When the last of the OSs had departed, one of the EOD techs said, “Okay, McCabe. You’re up. Hand me the gun, butt first. Now turn around very slowly and walk out the door.

  Hallie was surprised her feet worked as she made her slow approach to the door. Surely this was the longest walk she would ever take in her life.

  Just before she exited, she heard an EOD tech talking to Commander Haggman. “Hold on while I cut you loose, sir. Haven’t cut anyone with this para-knife yet today, but wigglers are always at risk.”

  Although she felt herself beginning to hyperventilate, Hallie held it together as she walked the passageway lined with Security personnel in full battle gear—including a couple of Navy SEALs if she wasn’t mistaken. All silently cheered her with thumbs-up as they ushered her toward Medical with the rest of the former hostages. Once she arrived, Hallie’s eyes searched through the blue camouflage to find a familiar face, so she could let down her guard.

  Finally she saw James and curled into his arms. Relief rushed to every cell in her body. He put his arms around her and patted her back. Closing her eyes, she drew in a slow calming breath and tried unsuccessfully to keep the tears at bay. The hell with the regs. She didn’t care who saw them comforting each other.

  “I’m sorry, Hallie, I can’t believe I didn’t think of the audio,” he said.

  “It’s okay, James. I’m just glad you’re all right. I was so scared.” Hallie wiped away her tears, sniffled, and tried to maintain her military bearing. But she couldn’t stop shivering.

  James wrapped a blanket around her. She was glad he kept his arm around her and discretely stroked her back as they assessed the scene around them.

  She realized she was not alone in processing the horror of the past hour. It was reminiscent of a refugee scene. These were not battle-hardened infantrymen. They were Operations Specialists whose job it was to gather and process tactical information. They were analytical types. None had been trained for close combat. They looked as stricken as she felt, but she had just killed a man. She had every right to cry openly.

  But she didn’t. She would suck it up and carry on.

  Hallie turned as Commander Haggman joined them. The color was back in his face, but he still appeared quite shaken. She wanted to throw herself into his arms. They had, after all, almost died together.

  Instead she reached out her hands to him. “Is Dixon okay? I was so afraid I hit him.”

  The CDC Officer squeezed her hands before dropping them. “He’s okay, but, trust me, you don’t want to see him yet.” He exhaled a sigh of relief. “McCabe, that was masterful. I can’t even begin to thank you.” He raised his brick and made a call. “Gun Boss, CDC. Have you got a spare body to shadow McCabe for the time being? Prefer someone big and intimidating, if possible.”

  “No problem, Hag,” squawked from the brick. “I have just the guy. I assume she’s in Medical with the rest of the CDC folks.”

  “She is. Thank you.”

  Hallie’s heart lurched. “Am I in trouble, sir? I didn’t need permission to do that, did I?” She would have laughed if she could.

  “Permission? Hell, no. The guy was going to kill us. And everyone else on the ship. We all heard it and a very savvy member of the press even recorded it all. You’re not in trouble, McCabe, but you might need some protection against well-wishers mobbing you. You heard the senior chief. You’re a freaking McHero!”

  Finally the Klaxon blared. “General Quarters! General Quarters! With the exception of personnel receiving medical attention, all hands man your Battle Stations. I say again, General Quarters! General Quarters! With the exception . . .” It was punctuated with the roar of a jet blast from overhead. Or something else. They didn’t know.

  Commander Haggman gave a sharp whistle to get the attention of everyone gathered in Sick Bay. “Okay, listen up. I don’t know much more than you do right now. See a corpsman if you need aid and make sure you get your name on the sign-up sheet that’s being passed around so we know who to talk to later. If you’re not injured and have been cleared by a corpsman, then make your way up to Air Ops. That will be our Battle Station until the EOD guys clear us in CDC. As soon as General Quarters is over, expect to be told to report back to me. Plenty of people are going to want to interview you and get your perspective on what happened. Do not discuss details with anyone until we’ve been debriefed. Petty Officers McCabe, Hall, and Dixon are to remain here in Medical. By the way, great job up there, men—and woman!”

  This caused an eruption of cheers for
Hallie and more than a few shout-outs.

  Gesturing with his hands for them to keep it down, Commander Haggman added, “Okay, calm down. Taking out a tango is just another day at the office for a Blanchard-trained MC.” He smiled broadly. “Surely you didn’t think she was just a pretty face that read cue cards. Now lay off McCabe, get in the proper Battle Dress, and follow me to Air Ops.”

  Again the 1MC boomed. “Attention all hands. This is the XO. We are still at General Quarters. Remain at your Battle Stations until further notice. We have four confirmed kills on suicide dhows. We took one indirect hit, when it exploded in close proximity. We suffered some damage and have a few casualties—mostly from the concussion just below the waterline and from flying debris in the hangar bay. Reactor spaces were not compromised and we are under our own power. We will continue to transit to safer waters. We have aircraft airborne to provide early warning, including a handful of fixed-wing and most of our helicopters. Everyone involved did an outstanding job getting them to the roof and launched. We have the rest of our pilots and aircrews on Alert Five, Alert Fifteen, or Alert Thirty until we know for sure that the threat is over. Damage Control is still assessing damage and casualties in Engineering…”

  All of Hallie’s resolve disappeared as she slipped from James’s arms.

  Chapter 30

  She didn’t know if it was the smelling salts or the 1MC that brought her around, but Hallie was mortified to find herself on the deck, faces hovering over her. The hospital corpsman wielding the smelling salts was a female, flanked by two male corpsmen with genuine looks of concern on their faces, as they gently lifted her to a sitting position. Hallie relaxed knowing she was in their care.

  “Attention all hands. This is the Captain. We believe all external threats have been eliminated. However, one of our own was involved in the attack, and that greatly increases the possibility of sabotage. We’re going to relax Battle Dress, but we want everyone to remain at their GQ stations while we do a search. I want every square inch of this ship scoured for possible bombs. Unless you are directly involved in the search, limit your internal phone use and stay off the bricks. That is all.”