Honor Among SEALs

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Honor Among SEALs Page 21

by Dixie Lee Brown

The worst had been the censure of friends and fellow Marines. People she’d trusted to have her back had denounced her publicly, going ominously mute every time she walked into a room. Now, MacGyver—made ten times worse because she valued his opinion. She’d let him become the gauge by which she judged herself.

  What did they expect me to do? Should she have turned her back on the girl, Zariya, who’d smiled and exhibited understanding as she’d been patted down daily, searched as though she was a criminal at the gates to her own city? Hell no! May I never be that heartless.

  Neither had she meant any harm to Private Christian Sorenson. His eyes hooded and pupils dilated, she’d recognized his drug-induced state and encouraged him to let his companions take him back to his barracks and sleep it off. Never would she have touched her handgun if he hadn’t grabbed it from her holster and turned it on her and Zariya.

  His life and hers had been shattered that day. The difference had been that she could still walk, and so she’d grown to despise herself too. Without the help and understanding of her commanding officer, Captain Dupree, Kellie would no doubt still be trapped in an unending cycle of guilt.

  She’d picked herself up and managed not to lose it during the investigation, withdrawing within herself for a time. In a way, Anna’s disappearance had saved her sanity—given her something to concentrate on—a reason to put her head down and finish her military commitment.

  Survival had been the order of the day…and she could do it again.

  She dropped her hands, straightened her spine and finished gathering her few belongings so she’d be ready to leave if their plan was still on. Afterward, she picked a book from her childhood collection, aligned the pillows against the headboard and stretched out on the bed. An hour later, when a knock sounded on her door, she was a hundred pages into The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and she couldn’t remember a word she’d read.

  Kellie closed the book. “Who is it?”

  “MacGyver.”

  A wave of dread nearly swamped her. Laying the book on the nightstand, she slid her feet to the carpet and crossed to the door. Gathering the loose edges of her confidence and tucking them back in place, she opened the door and stood in the gap. “Is it time to go?”

  “Almost. Charlie’s whipping up some lunch before we head out.” His eyes narrowed on her face. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  Kellie held her ground. “That depends. What do you want to talk about?”

  MacGyver rested one hand against the doorframe above her head and leaned toward her. His crooked grin almost broke her resolve. “What if I didn’t really mean talk? What if I just need to hold you?”

  Kellie’s eyebrows shot up. Yeah, right. Was there anything he wouldn’t say to get her to talk? “Tempting, but no.”

  He chuckled uncertainly. “Why not?”

  She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “You had your little chat with Blake. I don’t want to talk about him, so don’t ask.”

  MacGyver took a step back. “Okay. No problem. But…”

  Of course, he couldn’t just drop it. Kellie shoved the door open. “On second thought, you can come in.”

  As soon as he crossed into her room, she scooted out, closing the door behind her. Two seconds later, he opened it and called her name as she strode toward the kitchen. She ignored him, though she felt both childish and cowardly.

  Pop was carrying trays of lunch meat, cheese and condiments for sandwiches to the table. She grabbed a loaf of bread and a roll of paper towels from the counter and followed him. When she returned to the kitchen for plates and flatware, MacGyver sidled up next to her.

  “Cute, Champ. I just wanted to say I—”

  Kellie whipped around and forced a smile. “Come and get it. What’s everyone want to drink?”

  Travis and Jeremy didn’t wait for a second invitation. Both snagged bread and a plate and started building sandwiches as they gave her their drink requests. If they viewed her any differently after Blake’s revelation, she didn’t notice. Kellie retrieved sodas and juice from the refrigerator and made a fresh pot of coffee. All the while, MacGyver’s brooding glower followed her around the room. With his foothold on integrity, of course he’d be the one to take umbrage with what she’d done.

  Her appetite having gone out when Blake came in, she remained at the kitchen window, drinking coffee, her back to the table. When Pop brought his dishes to the sink, she ran some water and started cleaning up. Busy work to keep from having to acknowledge the judgment in MacGyver’s eyes.

  She jumped when he set a plate on the counter and slid it toward her. “You should eat something. If you’re not hungry now, wrap it up and take it with you. You’ll want it later.” Before she could reply, he strode away, grabbed his duffle and left the cabin.

  Kellie eyed the sandwich he’d obviously made for her, and a smile formed at his thoughtfulness. Immediately, she tamped down her emotions. It was easier to believe he just didn’t want to carry her later when she ran out of energy. She had to give him credit, though. He’d vowed to help her and Pop, and not even his reaction to Blake’s story had made him break his promise…so far.

  Quickly finishing the dishes, she dutifully wrapped the sandwich, stuffed it in a small backpack she’d found in her old room, along with a change of clothes, a jacket and her tiny purse and joined the men outside.

  MacGyver stood with Travis a few yards away, hands on slim hips, looking strong and in charge. Desire coursed through Kellie’s traitorous body, and she mentally slapped herself. This is life and death, not some storybook romance with a happy ending.

  A nod from MacGyver acknowledged her presence, and everyone gathered around him. “Okay. I’m on point. Kellie and Charlie will follow me—then Marshal Dahl—Travis will bring up the rear. We’ll be moving fast. Stay close and keep your eyes on me. Kellie and Charlie—no matter what happens, you stay with me. Let’s go.” Instead of moving out, he turned his piercing blue eyes on her, nailing her to the spot.

  When they were the only two left standing there, he stepped in front of her. “The jewelry Palazzi gave you—where is it?”

  Kellie frowned. She hadn’t seen the diamond necklace and earrings since the car ride to Perkins Field. Had forgotten about it and had been surprised to find it at the bottom of her white lace clutch. “Why?” She didn’t wait for an answer but unzipped her backpack, rummaged for the small evening bag and held it up. “It’s in here.”

  MacGyver held out his hand. “Palazzi planted a tracking device in the jewelry. That’s how he knew where to find you.” MacGyver’s expression was completely locked down, and nothing in his voice made her think he cared whether Tony found her any longer.

  Kellie dug the jewels out and handed them to MacGyver. He dropped them on the concrete pavers beneath his feet and crushed them with his heel. Without another word, he turned west and set a brisk pace down the steep mountainside.

  An AK-47, apparently supplied by Blake, hung over his shoulder. Travis carried one too. Kellie fell back to let Charlie and Chip go in front of her. That way she could keep an eye on her stepdad and call for a halt if he needed to rest. The uneven terrain, windfall and mud made it a treacherous hike, and Charlie’s stubborn pride would demand he not slow them down.

  Forty-five minutes later, MacGyver stopped and waited for them to catch up. “Let’s take five.” He clapped Charlie’s shoulder and pointed toward a fallen tree. “This downhill shit is a killer. I’m going to sit for a minute—catch my breath. How about you?”

  The gratitude Kellie felt toward him at that moment was dizzying. Or maybe she was simply more tired and stressed than she’d thought. She shrugged off the backpack and leaned against a tree nearby, watching MacGyver trying to draw Pop into dialogue. Travis and Jeremy joined the men, sitting in the shade created by the canopy of pine boughs overhead.

  Pop had been quiet during lunch and on their m
arch downhill, but he gradually entered the conversation, even laughing at something MacGyver said. Chip rose from his position at Pop’s feet and trotted over to her, licking the hand she dropped to scratch his ears. The border collie’s big brown eyes held more wisdom than some people, and he wagged his tail when she leaned over and planted a kiss on his black and white head.

  “It’s okay, Chip. We’re going to be just fine.” Whether she was comforting the dog or herself, she couldn’t say for sure. The dog whined as though he’d understood her whispered words. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

  “Let’s move out.” MacGyver stood and glanced toward her. “Another twenty minutes will see us on flatter terrain. We’ll turn north and head for the edge of the golf course.”

  What? When did he decide that? “The golf course? Not the lake?” Kellie wrapped the strap of her backpack over one shoulder.

  MacGyver turned away and started walking again. “That’s where our ride’s going to meet us. It’ll be easier for him to land there than on the lake.” He tossed the words over his shoulder.

  Kellie stared after him. Their ride? Easier to land? She fisted her hands and silently fumed. Blake! Did MacGyver sell her out after all?

  She glanced at Pop, who shrugged and looked away before he turned and followed MacGyver. Chip plodded at her side as she strode toward Travis and Jeremy, who were waiting for her to go ahead.

  Jeremy’s smile was sympathetic as she skirted past him. He stepped up beside her, keeping pace. Leaning toward her, he spoke in a low voice. “Do you trust your buddy, MacGyver?”

  Shocked, Kellie fixed him with a glare. Did she? Implicitly, before this whole Blake thing came back to haunt her. In fact, besides Anna and the four men making this hike with her, there was no one else she could trust. In spite of MacGyver siding with Blake on the incident in Iraq, he still held a special place in her heart. Go figure.

  “Yes, I do.” God help her.

  Jeremy nodded and gradually fell back, apparently satisfied with her answer.

  They stopped to rest again at the bottom of the slope and once more, after leaving the forested hillside for the thin band of rocks and scrub brush that bordered the golf course. The sun was in their eyes to the west when they took cover behind a patch of bitterbrush near the deserted green expanse of the course. Clearly, the intense weather patterns of late had contributed to the current lack of golfers in attendance. There’d be no blending in with vacationing tourists, even if they did look the part—which they didn’t.

  Keeping low, Kellie moved forward, dropping to a crouch beside MacGyver and Travis. “I assume Blake is picking us up?”

  MacGyver raised a pair of field glasses and scanned to the north. “You assume correctly.” No warmth resonated in his words.

  Okay, so she’d finally managed to tick him off, and he wasn’t going to make this easy. “What did he say to convince you we could trust him?”

  MacGyver lowered the glasses and squinted at her. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about Blake.”

  The infuriating, self-righteous butthead! Gritted teeth kept her thoughts from spewing out of her mouth. She managed to smile, though the effort not to lose her temper was killing her. “That was before you sold out to him.”

  “No…no, I didn’t sell out. Blake brought us a shitload of firepower, told us about the tracking device and offered us a way to save your pretty little neck. If you’d bothered to stick around and hear him out, you’d have known that.”

  That isn’t the issue, even if he is right, damn it. She swallowed hard and tamped down her anger. “And you believed everything he said?”

  MacGyver shrugged. “Pretty much.”

  Travis reached for the field glasses and looked through them. He pointed. “Chopper at three o’clock, coming in low.”

  Only then did Kellie hear the sound of the blades beating the air. She watched, dread roiling her stomach, as the aircraft became visible to the naked eye.

  “Wait here.” MacGyver rose and stepped into the clearing, waving toward the helicopter.

  Beside her, Chip growled, and the hair stood up along the ridge of his back. Kellie glanced behind her, over the terrain they’d just covered, to see what had alerted him. Suddenly, the air over her head was filled with lead. She dropped to the ground and crab crawled to the other side of the sparse bushes as Travis swung around and returned fire.

  At least a half dozen men, armed with rifles and handguns, took cover at the edge of the forest, taking potshots at Travis until he hit the deck. He caught her attention and waved her on toward the incoming chopper.

  Jeremy grabbed Pop’s arm and shielded him as they ran for the wide open area of the golf course. Kellie burst to her feet to follow, yelling for Chip as she ducked and ran. MacGyver was lying flat on the ground, sighting in on the shooters, who were periodically popping up and firing rounds in their direction.

  Chip barked furiously before scurrying through the brush and gluing himself to Kellie’s side again.

  “Jeremy, get Kellie and Charlie on that chopper.” MacGyver flagged his arm in the direction of the approaching aircraft.

  Kellie drew her gun from her waistband and prepared to fire, but Jeremy yanked her toward him and gave her a shove toward the open fairway. She met MacGyver’s troubled gaze and read his lips as he mouthed, “Go…now.”

  As though in a dream, she twirled and her feet dug for purchase on the soggy ground. “Chip, come!” Pop and Jeremy were about a hundred feet ahead, running for the helicopter hovering a foot above the ground just ahead of them. When Jeremy jumped onboard and turned to help Pop, Kellie felt a wave of relief. No matter what else happened, Pop was safe.

  Under a barrage of bullets, the chopper banked right and gained altitude, circling back to hover again, while MacGyver and Travis drew the enemy’s fire. Inside the cargo bay, Pop beckoned her, and she could see his lips moving, urging her on. She looked for Chip—saw him barking and snarling at a line of men who steadily advanced on MacGyver’s position. Every fiber of her body screamed for her to go back and help, but then Travis burst through the brush, running toward her, waving her on.

  Kellie swiveled, yelled for Chip and ran. The border collie flew into the open bay a second before she jumped. Pop and Jeremy grabbed her arms and dragged her onboard as Blake banked the helicopter sharply again, and lead ricocheted off some rocks behind them.

  Travis had taken cover behind a knoll and gunfire pinned him down. Blake circled and tried to get closer. Kellie watched helplessly as he was driven back again and again. Finally, Travis raised one arm and made a twirling motion, signaling that the chopper should gain altitude and leave them behind.

  Kellie’s heart nearly stopped. She stomped toward Blake, at the controls. “No! We can’t leave them!”

  Blake glanced over his shoulder, a wild grin making him look half crazy. “Not on your life, sweetheart!”

  She gave him a thumbs-up as she returned his grin, sure she didn’t look any less crazy.

  “Hang on!” Blake took the chopper up as though they were going to leave, circled and then Kellie’s stomach seemed to lodge in her throat, choking her, as he dove toward the ground. At the last second, he leveled off a mere three feet above the grass and held the aircraft steady while Travis leaped and rolled to the interior of the bay. Kellie cheered and gave Blake a high-five, lost in the thrill of the moment.

  Once Travis was onboard with the AK-47, they had a chance. With half of his body concealed behind the bay door, he sprayed bullets into the brushy terrain beyond the golf course, keeping the enemy shooters’ heads down while Blake maneuvered the chopper closer to MacGyver. When they were still thirty feet away, MacGyver rolled onto his back and surged to his feet, running a zigzag course toward them. For some reason, their attackers stopped shooting. MacGyver hadn’t gone ten feet when a lone gunman vaulted over some rocks to his left and tackled hi
m.

  MacGyver went down, the side of his head hitting an outcrop. Apparently dazed, he tried to gain his feet but collapsed again. The gunman sneered as he stood over MacGyver and drew a knife from his belt.

  In horror, Kellie glanced at Travis. Why doesn’t he shoot? But she knew why. The Russian made AK-47 could fill the air with lead in no time flat, but it was notoriously inaccurate. Travis wouldn’t shoot because he might hit MacGyver.

  In dream-like slow motion, Kellie drew her weapon. As the man bent to grab MacGyver’s collar and moved the knife closer to his throat, Kellie aimed and fired three shots. Blood seeped from a triangle of wounds in his chest. He lurched backward and dropped. Almost immediately, he began crawling across the ground toward MacGyver, the knife still in his hand. Could she hit him again without killing MacGyver? Did she have any other choice but to try?

  Suddenly, a black and white furry body catapulted from the cargo bay, hit the ground ten feet away and, in three strides, Chip clamped the man’s knife-hand between his teeth. The assailant dropped the knife, rolled away from the dog and MacGyver, and Kellie fired again. The man went still, and Kellie jumped from the bay, followed by Jeremy. They raced to MacGyver as Travis laid down cover, keeping the rest of Palazzi’s men from returning fire.

  Jeremy kicked the knife away from the unmoving gunman, but it hadn’t been necessary. His open, staring eyes told Kellie he was dead. The realization chilled her blood, but she pushed her emotions away. There’d be time to deal with them later.

  MacGyver was groggy but awake when they rolled him over. That was good, because Kellie wasn’t sure they could have hauled the unconscious man onto the chopper. As it was, Jeremy jumped in and pulled, with Pop’s help, while Kellie got her back under him and pushed. Once he was safely onboard, Kellie picked up Chip and lifted him in.

  A sudden blast on the opposite side of the chopper threw her to the ground. She rolled away, covering her head, as the aircraft spun dangerously. Was that a rocket? Instantly, another explosion rocked the craft. Travis was knocked off balance, and the steady stream of bullets keeping Palazzi’s men pinned down ceased. The chopper lurched forward, bounced once on the ground before Blake pulled up, increasing elevation and speed.

 

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