by J. B. Havens
I couldn’t speak another word or I would tear him apart. I left Flynn standing there in the cold and went to suit up. Light gear meant a hike and they knew that. It was cold and hypothermia had no sense of humor.
****
Jordon shut the door behind Rook and Jones as they entered the cabin. Jordon didn’t know what to make of Rook. On one hand, it was nice not to be the new guy anymore, but it was like getting kicked in the nuts when he heard that name. Riley. The cause of so much destruction and pain for them all.
“Which room is mine?” Rook asked.
“Over here, across from mine.” Jordon opened the door and waved him inside. There was nothing left of the man who had called it his home for years. Only the queen-sized bed and a dresser remained. There were dark spots on the walls where posters had hung for years. A set of sheets sat on the corner of the bed, neatly folded and waiting for the new occupant to make use of them.
“Better than a tent and a cot. Or sand and sky.” Rook dropped his duffle on the bed and turned to Jordon. Jones leaned his shoulder against the open door. They collectively stared at one another, measuring the other up.
“How many tours?” Jones asked.
“Four. I was about to leave for my fifth when I got the call.” Meaning he was probably dragged out of bed by a shouting Gunny Sergeant yesterday morning and had all the details laid out in front of him before breakfast.
“Ever wounded?” Jones was heading to marathon territory for the shortest sentence ever.
“Yes.” Rook’s bottom-of-the-sea-deep voice gave nothing away.
“Okay then. Light gear means a sidearm and knives. No rifles. Dress warm. We’re going into the woods,” Jordon explained, leaving the room as Rook began to pull a boxed chess set from his duffle.
Chapter 2
I slipped on my black thermal tactical pants and a matching long-sleeved shirt before threading the strap for my thigh holster through my belt. It feels good to gear up again, I thought as I tightened the strap on my thigh. I grabbed a small backpack and loaded it with some goodies for the boys. We had been doing our normal daily PT and training, but not in preparation for anything in particular. The team would be together again, training and sweating together. Two months was a long damn time to be between missions for them. They didn’t know what to do with all of this down-time; we would soon be fixing that.
I paced back and forth in the training yard, waiting for the men to assemble. The sky was fully light now, the sun’s weak early winter rays slowly melting the frost and burning off the fog. Just as the last traces of the pink and gold sunrise disappeared the men walked onto the field. Their black tactical clothes were in obscene contrast to the beauty of the morning. They looked like what they were, walking death prepared to fall upon their enemies.
“Ok boys, time for a hike. We’re going to the logging trails. Rook, your training starts now,” I said as they assembled in a neat line. “Jordon just went through this, but unlike him, we have enough time to train you properly. Are you ready? Because there are no second chances.”
“Yes, Staff Sergeant.”
Time to shake him up a bit…
I stepped up to him and checked him over. As he had been instructed, he carried only his sidearm in his thigh holster and a knife. Not the KA-BAR most of us carried, but a shorter tactical knife, with what looked like a bone hilt. Standing in front of him, my head didn’t quite reach his shoulder. He was a bit shorter than the others and not as broad. Without taking my eyes off of his face, I slipped his pistol from its holster. He narrowed his eyes and the corner of his mouth tightened slightly at me, but he didn’t say anything.
“Nice choice. I’m rather attached to my M-9 and the boys all have Sig Sauers. Why Browning for you?” I asked, as I released the magazine and jerked the slide back. A shell fell at my feet.
The mag was full and he had a round in the chamber?
“This is a little over the top for a hike, Rook. Don’t go putting a round in the chamber unless we’re on a mission.” I slapped the mag back in with a hard smack of my palm, re-engaged the safety, and slipped the pistol back into his holster.
“I like the Hi-Power II. I always have. It may not be the forty-five that they have, but a nine millimeter will always do the job.” He snapped the strap on his holster back over the butt of his Browning.
“Good enough for me, Rook.” Leading the way, we headed into the woods. He’d done well. I could tell he was pissed, but he didn’t rise to the bait.
For Jordon’s training, we had skipped ahead and dove head first into the panic room. For Rook we had the time to start at the beginning.
“Ok, boys,” I spoke over my shoulder. “We’re going to hike fifteen miles today. Jordon, you’ll be familiar with this area. We’ve brought the Jeep up here.”
I stepped over rocks and leaves, watching where I put my feet. Rolling an ankle out here would ruin a perfectly good day. For the most part we hiked in silence, with only the wind and occasional curse for company.
“Mic, why are we doing this?” Flynn whined from the back. “It’s cold and it serves no purpose.”
I stopped dead. Exactly what I was waiting for. We were at about the halfway point of the hike. Just far enough that we were getting a little winded, but not so far that we were dragging ass.
“Flynn, just for that, you get to be first. Get up here.” I slipped off my bag and set it at my feet.
“Rook. Front and center.” He followed my command without question. No confusion, no questions, just instant obedience. Flynn needed a lesson.
“This is a training exercise to build trust and teamwork. Flynn, Rook, stand next to each other and hold your hands out.” Flynn glared at me when he saw me pulling the rope from my bag. There were enough pieces for everyone to pair up. Even me.
“What the fuck, Mic?” Flynn snapped at me.
“Check your fucking tone, Corporal! I’ve had just about enough of you and your bitching. Do what I say or take your girly ass back down the fucking hill.” He clenched his jaw and did what I said. He held his left arm out beside Rook’s right. His fist was clenched so tight, the veins in his arm were popping out. I tied them together from wrist to elbow, lashing the rope over and around their thick arms; then I squatted down and tied their calves together as well. This was a fucking sack race from hell.
“Now. You’re stuck together. Jones and Pierce you’re next. Jordon, you’re with me.” I tied Pierce and Jones in the same way, while they helped tie Jordon and me which was difficult given our extreme height difference. It might have been better for me to be tied to Rook, but Flynn needed to work his shit out with him. This would force him to do it. Plus, I missed the class-clown-Flynn. I didn’t much care for this angry-pissed-the-fuck-off-Flynn.
“Okay, the point of this is to finish the hike to the top and back down without falling. If you fall, get up, walk backward twenty paces, and continue. I’d make you go to the bottom but that seems mean.” I let loose my evil smile. The chorus of groans was music to my ears.
“Were you born this evil, Mic, or did something happen to make you this way?” Jordon asked, as we set off, counting “right, left, right, left” under our breaths. So far we were making good progress.
I laughed. “Not sure. You tell me, Jordon.” My foot caught a stone and I nearly went down. He jerked hard on his tied arm, keeping me upright, but causing me to fall against him. His scent hit my nose at the same time I realized he’d clasped my hand. My heart sped up, my palm dampened, and my stomach danced with those damn cliché butterflies.
What was I? Twelve years old and excited that the cute boy held my hand? Get a fucking grip, Michaels…
“She was made; the Army makes you into who it wants you to be,” Pierce huffed from ahead of us. Jones with his extra-long legs was making it tough going for poor Pierce.
“For some, yes, but not for her. She was spat out from the bowels of hell because Satan couldn’t stand her,” Flynn chimed in, adding his two cents.
“You’re just butt-hurt that I tied you to Rook, flyboy.” Flynn detested the name. I only whipped it out when he was being a particular pain in the ass.
“Flyboy, huh? That’s one I haven’t heard before.” Jordon laughed at Flynn’s back.
“Fuck off, lover-boy. You don’t have any room to talk,” Flynn shot back, giving him the finger.
Jones was laughing and not watching where he was going. He tripped while trying to step over a log, and fell sideways into the leaves and dirt with a crash. This caused Pierce to tip over and wind mill his arms, but he still landed on top of Jones in a heap of tangled arms and legs.
“Oof. Get the fuck off.” Jones shoved at Pierce, but didn’t get too far. Pierce fell to the side, but Jones was forced to follow and ended up on top of Pierce.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Figure it out you two or do you need some alone time?” I tried to snap at them, but my laugher made it difficult to sound too authoritative.
Flynn was finally laughing, tears streaming down his face. It was the first time he’d laughed this hard since before Phillips had died. Progress. Who knew that rope would be the cure?
“If you fuckers are done having your fun, help us up, dammit!” Pierce grouched. He was shoving at a cursing Jones and had finally managed to get them both flat on their backs.
“Nah. Looks like you got it from here. Work together and you can stand,” I said. Laughter made it difficult for me to talk.
Jordon chose that moment to lose his footing. He teetered backward and to the right. I pulled hard on my arm and leg trying to keep him upright, but gravity did what gravity does best.
“No! Dammit!” We landed hard. I hit his chest, knocking the air from his lungs with a whoosh. I tried to recover my dignity while Jordon tried to make his diaphragm work.
“Oh Christ. Come on... dammit!” I felt Pierce’s pain. This was extremely awkward; my crotch was aligned with his, my legs spread onto either side. The rope binding our legs together kept my tied right leg uncomfortably straight.
“Mic. Stop fucking moving, dammit. Just let me lift you off.” I was quickly realizing that my wiggling around, trying to get up, was having a noticeable effect on Jordon. A very noticeable effect.
“Fuck. Shit... sorry.” I was stuttering like an idiot. I froze when he grabbed my hip in his free hand, squeezing hard with his long fingers.
“Just stop fucking moving.” He slid his big hand over my ass, grasped the cheek and lifted up, pushing at the same time. I ended up in the dirt, a sharp rock stabbing into my back. Leaves were falling onto my face and I stayed there for a moment, trying to recover what little dignity I had remaining.
Someone, I couldn’t see who, was laughing so hard that he was gasping for breath. Flynn probably.
“Well, that was entertaining,” Rook said. Without an ounce of laughter in his voice.
“Don’t you know how to laugh?” Flynn asked him, through gulps of air.
“Yeah. I do.”
“Do you talk?” Flynn kept at Rook.
Jordon and I looked at each other, sharing the same thought.
What was happening here?
“When necessary,” Rook said. With his left hand, he pulled out his knife and cut the ropes tying them together. Bending down, he cut Jordon’s and my ropes as well.
“You two, also?” Rook asked, pointing the black blade at Pierce and Jones.
“By all means, my friend.” Pierce held his and Jones’s arm up.
And just like that, my exercise was over. The ropes were cut, but new bonds were formed. Rook was finding his place among the others and Flynn was laughing again.
“You ready to get up, Mic, or are you going to grow roots?” Jordon asked, reaching a hand down to me. The others had continued on up and around the curve in the trail and were no longer in view. Jordon and I were alone, with only the sounds of the few remaining wintering birds to keep us company.
“Funny. Thanks.” I took his hand, and he pulled me up faster than I expected, smacking me into his chest again. I seemed to be ending up there a lot lately. I flashed back to the one kiss we shared in Colombia, the one moment we allowed ourselves to indulge in this crazy attraction going on between us.
“Jordon. No... don’t look at me like that.” He was inching closer to me. I tried to pull back, but his hands tightened on my arms.
When did he grab my arms?
“Bea.” That’s all he said, just my name. He let go of my arms and wrapped one hand around my waist and buried the other in my hair. I was trapped. Trapped in his arms. Staring into his eyes, I saw the truth reflected there. This was not just a simple chemical attraction for him. This was something more. A much bigger more.
“Chris…” His name was a plea on my lips. A plea to stop, a plea not to.
The crack of a branch breaking somewhere nearby in the forest jerked us apart. I stood there staring at Jordon, and for the first time in a long time was unsure of what to do or say. He disarmed me completely; he stole my words as he stole my breath. Reason and thought slowly returned with my air.
“Fucking hell, Jordon; this is not happening! Do you hear me?! This can’t happen.” I pointed back and forth between us. I was angry beyond words; angry at him, but mostly at myself.
“I know. You just... you’re so…” He ran his hands through his hair, pulling at it. I could almost hear him mentally berating himself.
“Not ever again. Got it, Corporal?” I knew that I wounded him with my words, but I had to. We had been dancing around each other for months. I was his team leader first and a woman second. I had sacrificed everything for this team; I wasn’t about to stop now.
“Copy that, Staff Sergeant,” he barked at me and stomped up the trail. I followed, aware that I was the NCO here and I was going to end up being the last to the top... so be it.
****
I sat at the long cafeteria table in the mess hall, staring at my tray of food. We finally have a chef back and the food was getting better. It was identifiable now at least. I looked up as Pierce sat down next to me. “What happened out there today, Mic?”
I picked at my plate of spaghetti, not having much of an appetite. “What do you mean?” I was being deliberately evasive. I knew exactly what he was asking.
“You know damn well what I’m talking about.” He shoved some pasta into his mouth, chewing slowly. Wiping sauce from his mouth with a napkin, he was giving me time to decide if I was going to answer or not. I thought back to what had happened after I’d reached the top of the trail.
I walked into the clearing, and saw the men gathered together at the edge of the cliff. They were standing in a line, all looking so much alike and yet they were each so different. Jordon turned to me as I approached. His jaw tightened and he looked away quickly. Nothing like a bruised male ego to cause a temper tantrum.
“What did you all learn today?”
“I don’t hate Rook,” Flynn said, punching Rook in the arm.
“Hit me again, flyboy, and I’ll feed you that arm,” the newbie growled.
Flynn laughed. “I take that back. I hate him.”
“Shut it, children. She means, did we learn we’re still a team? That even when separated, we are still one?” Jones interjected.
“Always the quiet ones…” Flynn’s mouth had been out of commission for a while; it sounded like he was making up for lost time.
“Jones is right. Jackson is going to be briefing me on a mission later tonight. We need to be ready. A lot has changed for us recently. We are and always have been a team. Don’t forget it.” Thinking my speech was over, I walked away. Jordon’s furious voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Still have that machete, Mic? Can’t let it go, huh? Looks like I’m not the only one who has to let go of lost causes.” If words could cut, I would be bleeding out on the ground.
“We all have our demons, Jordon. Each of us deals with them in different ways. Figure it out or go.” I left them there on the mountain. I couldn’t look at
any of them in that moment.
“Earth to Mic, come in, Mic.” Pierce was waving his hand in front of my face.
“Knock it off, dammit. I hear you.”
Sort of, I thought to myself.
“Do you? You told Jordon to leave. Jordon, of all people; we know you have a soft spot for him. We all know something happened between you two in Colombia. It’s coming back to haunt you now, isn’t it?”
I knew he was just concerned. I knew he wanted to make sure that I wasn’t losing it, that I wasn’t going to flip out. This was my business though, and I wasn’t about to have this conversation with my Sergeant, no matter how much of a family we were.
“I’m not discussing this with you, Sergeant.” I stood, leaving my untouched tray on the table. I had a meeting with Jackson to get to.
Today was going down in the books as nearly a total fail. The only good to come of today was that Rook was being slowly integrated into the team and I didn’t think I had to worry about Flynn gutting him or anyone else, anytime soon.
My relationship with Jordon was as complicated as ever. Just when I thought we were going to be okay, friends and no more, he goes and tries to kiss me again. I wanted him to so badly I could taste him. I wanted to feel the security of his arms and the pressure of his lips on mine, but I’ve spent most of my life wanting things I couldn’t have or shouldn’t have; no reason to stop now.
I continued to let my thoughts wander as I left the mess hall and walked to Jackson’s cabin. I needed to get my shit together before I saw him. He would know right away if there was something wrong with me.
As I walked, I unwillingly remembered my non-existent childhood. The memories were so close to the surface these days that once I relaxed even slightly, they rose to the forefront of my mind. My recurring dreams would not let me push them back down into the past where they belonged.
