That was the way of a commando Tier 1 operator.
Peeling off from the SEALS, I took the rocky, barely-there track, I left my back-up, increasing my pace when the face of my team-mate came to my mind. For my mission to be successful, I had to keep myself detached from Deke emotionally, but that was a hard thing to do, even for me. Through years of deployments and countless hours together, Deke was more than just a soldier. He was my brother in arms, an integral part of the Sons, and a bloody fine bloke. Getting him back alive was my only objective. Then, when I grabbed the bastard, he and I were going to have words about his insane and dangerous behaviour during the attack.
Deke went rogue, and there was no other word to describe his erratic decisions to storm through doors without a man at his back. His idiotic waste of ammo when he had to know that the team was low and needed to refit stupefied me.
Obviously Deke had something going on, and he and I and the rest of the team were going to have a conversation when we got back to home base about him being a dickhead, as soon as I saved the silly mongrel.
Stepping lightly, I moved through the shadows of the outbuildings. The moon was high in the sky, leaving me no cover, so staying pressed against the walls of the buildings and slowly making my way was my only option. Earlier in the week, I had already sized up the main compound during a night recon, so I knew that the bottom floor would be my first port of call as I had already ascertained that the living quarters were on the top and second top floors.
Sneaking without sound, I eased ahead in short intervals to not gain any attention from anyone who might be on watch detail. One thing I found out about the rebels was they liked to drink at night, not all that worried about maintaining patrols around the perimeter. They were that cocky, they honestly thought no one would ever breach the compound.
Well, they haven’t come up against the Ghost, I thought to myself, smirking in the darkness. I earned my mission name, earned it with the ability to be in plain sight and yet, remain unidentifiable. I had no tattoos, no scars, nothing at all discerning that made me noticeable.
And I was quiet.
I could walk into a room and no one would notice me. My mum used to complain when I was a kid that I needed a bell around my neck to stop her from having heart failure. It helped back in the day when Shiloh got one of her stupid ideas in her head, getting all the Club kids into trouble. I managed to creep away without our parents finding out I had been involved. It also helped that while I was growing up, I watched and learned from my mum. I watched her count her steps, learned how to remember where objects were in rooms, listening to the sounds of my surroundings, and not to rely only on my sight but all my senses. The way my mum dealt with being blind taught me how to be a soldier before I ever put on a uniform.
It served me well then and now.
Without a sound, I stealthy ran along the walls of the buildings, thankful that I wasn’t carrying a pack or sixty kilos of equipment on my back. All I needed was my KAC SR-25 rifle, a belt of grenades, two HK USP sidearms, four clips and my bowie knife. I was set for a rescue mission and anything else that might come my way.
I could hear the SEALS talking up a storm from way across the village, their noise actually working in my favour. They’d attract the rebels and all I’d have to do is swoop in and snatch Deke up, then get out without them knowing I was there.
Without warning, the sky lit up with the red and blue blasts of bullets being fired, popping sounds whistled, breaking the silence of the quiet night and my plan of sneaking in undetected.
Cursing a blue streak that would have my mother slapping me on the upside of my head, I bolted towards the compound where I knew in my gut Deke was being held. The SEALs can deal with their fuck up; all I wanted was my team-mate and I was out of here.
It was times like this I needed Gabe’s speed and Bastian’s crazy brute force, but I was alone and wishing was nothing but a waste of time. Vaulting over a brick water well, I skidded to hide behind a small animal enclosure just in time before a powerful spotlight flashed over right beside me. Falling to my stomach, I flattened myself to the ground, going still as the beam of light made two passes two clicks to my right. Rolling to my left as soon as the light flashed the other way, I made three more rolls and made it to another small outbuilding, then quickly scurried inside the doorway.
“I am fucking going to knock your teeth in, Deke, after I save your arse,” I growled low in my throat, taking one of my sidearms from my side holster and quickly checking that it was loaded and the safety was off.
A loud pained yelp came from a small glassless window at the bottom of the building where I suspected Deke was imprisoned. Loud bickering in Somali came from the same small opening, I wasn’t fluent by any means, but I knew what ‘dil’ meant.
Kill him.
Not letting my amped-up heartbeat affect me, I scrambled to my feet and sprinted in the direction of the window. My planned surprise was now out of the question. Now all I could do was go in and kill as many as I could with the firepower I had on me.
The spotlight flashed directly on me, followed by a burst of flashing rounds from a semi-automatic weapon. Ducking down, I kept running while dodging bullets; I made my way to the square entry, and saying a prayer, I aimed and flew through the opening headfirst, my gun at the ready.
Landing on my feet in a crouched position, gathering my bearings quickly, I fired at the first rebel in my sights. His weapon was slouched over his shoulder, but in his hand was a crude version of a baseball bat. My keen powers of observation caught the smear of blood dripping down the wood, and at the tip, nails were poking out, making it into some form of torture weapon.
Fucking arsehole.
“Signal! Position!” I shouted over the firing of bullets, frantic to seek Deke out so I didn’t accidentally shoot him.
“At your three o’clock, Ghost,” Deke shouted back at me, his voice was weaker than usual, but he was alive.
We used our mission names whenever the enemy was in close contact; the less they knew about us, the less they could use against us.
“You bound?” I yelled again, kicking away the gun from the fallen assailant at the same time shooting another one in the chest.
“No, but I don’t think I’m going to be much use,” Deke admitted grimly.
“You can shoot still, right?” Tossing my gun to Deke, I pulled my knife out of my waistband and flew at another man who’d come through a back door without a weapon.
Wrong decision fuckwit.
Confident that Deke had my back, I rushed the newcomer with my knife pointed directly at him. Ploughing my shoulder into him, I pushed my knife deep into his chest all the way to the tang, turning my wrist to make sure the blade caused as much internal damage as possible. Shots fired behind me, and the thud of bodies dropping gave me the breather I needed to be sure that we just might make it out alive.
Yanking my arm back, I pulled the knife out of the meaty flesh of the rebel’s abdomen and watched his eyes roll back in his head before he slumped to the dirt floor. It might be sick and twisted, but I didn’t miss the flair of achievement that I felt as the man took his last gurgled, thready breath of life. Killing wasn’t a joy, not in the least, but saving my team brother was. It was a simple choice at the end of the day—kill or be killed.
“Down to three rounds, Ghost,” Deke warned, as the room suddenly became quiet. Using my foot, I pushed at the body to make sure that he was, in fact, dead before taking my eyes off him to look over at Deke.
“Fuck Signal, didn’t you put up any fight at all?” Gawking at his beaten and bloody face.
“They had me tied up until ten minutes ago, arsehole,” he growled, holding up his middle finger at me, then let out a hiss of pain. “They were planning on moving me until all hell broke out.”
“SEALS,” I clipped, shaking my head.
“Fucking typical noisy bastards,” Deke chuckled, then lapsed into a coughing fit that sent off an alarm bell in my brain.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here brother, the yanks have things in hand out there; on the other hand, you need medical attention.” Hurrying over to the Deke, I hooked my arm through his and hauled him to his feet as carefully as I could but aware that I had to get us moving and quickly.
“Sorry mate, but we don’t have time to do an assessment of your injuries until we get a safe distance from here,” I explained, moving him to the window. “The HLZ is a good hour from here, mate, so I am sorry, but you have to move fast.”
“Right, fast, no worries,” Deke huffed, but he leaned on me and continued to move. I heard his pain, felt it in his weight as he allowed me to take the brunt of it.
“This is going to hurt, mate, so don’t scream, or I will tell Ammo and he will give you shit for it forever.” Without waiting for a reply, I lifted Deke and unceremoniously tossed him through the window.
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck me!” Deke grunted as he fell on the other side. “You fucking cunt, Ghost!”
Jumping through myself, I landed quietly and easily on my feet, a small deep chuckle leaving my lips.
“I told you it was going to hurt,” I laughed, then reached down and once again hauled him back to his feet.
“Next time, tell me that you are going to toss me like a sack of spuds.”
“Next time, don’t fucking act like a fucking renegade and think you are invincible, and I won’t have to save your arse.” Grabbing Deke around the waist, I picked up my speed and half dragged and half carried my mate back the way I’d come. Sticking to the shadows, thankful that there was no spotlight this time.
The yanks must have taken out the lights, I thought absently.
“Gabe is pissed, isn’t he?” Deke hissed out in between taking gulps of air.
“Tank will have something to say about your kamikaze shit, yes. He will also have something to say to me when I get you back,” I mumbled, knowing that my captain was going to kick my arse for going in alone … for going behind his back.
“What did you do? Where is the team?”
Hurrying along the protection of the buildings, I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the distant sounds of soldiers yelling out the all-clear. Signalling that the coalition forces had been successful.
“The major refused to allow them to re-fit for battle, sent them home.”
“And not you?”
“No, not me.”
Deke fell silent, as did I. He knew what I meant and knew that I’d come back for him without the support of the Sons. Something we rarely ever did.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Ghost; the team doesn’t split up. We go home together,” Deke argued, hissing and panting as I picked up our pace to get up the steep hill.
“Fucking shut up, Deke. As if I would leave your idiotic arse behind.”
Ignoring my screaming aching muscles, the burden of getting both of us up the hill taking more energy out of me than I realised.
“Should have left me there, Cole. Should have fucking left me there.”
I didn’t like the defeated tone in Deke’s voice. Something odd and haunting more than the pain that the rebels inflicted on him was behind it. Was that the reason behind his stupid and irresponsible behaviour on the mission? The reason he went crazy and pulled one stupid stunt after another? Whatever it was, Deke was going to take time from the team to recover from his injuries, then maybe we can figure out what else was wrong with him.
“Not a chance, mate, not a fucking chance,” I replied firmly. Deke might be acting weird lately, but I loved him like a brother, trusted him with my life. Leaving him to suffer at the hands of the rebels was never going to happen.
Not on my watch.
The Black Hawk’s lights came into view just as Deke and I reached the planned HLZ. The last two hours had been a lesson in body control and endurance for both Deke and myself. Deke lost the ability to be of much help about forty minutes into our walk-out; his pain levels reached an all-time high, so bad that I ended up carrying him over my shoulders. The bastard was heavy, and I thought about giving up once or twice, but I dug deep and went back in my mind to my days in selection training. Those are days I’d much rather forget; the sleepless days, the sheer and pure tiredness, the aches and pains one had to endure to prove that you were worthy of wearing the green beret and the dagger patch.
Deke fell asleep five kilometres ago; at first, I was worried, but every now and then, he would let out a hiss or a grunt, letting me know he was still with me. I had no time to check him over, other than I cursory glance over his body to see if there was something I needed to do before I picked him up. I didn’t see much in the darkness, but I did make out a large stain of blood on his uniform on his side.
Knife wound? Maybe, but I had to get us to the HLZ on time; otherwise, we were going to be on foot to the FOB, and Deke was not going to last a day on my back, and quite frankly, neither was I.
Dropping to my knees, I bent over and rolled Deke off my shoulders and onto the rocky ground as carefully as I could. His low growl and curse bringing a small smile to my lips.
“Sorry, brother, but I gotta pop some smoke and I can’t do that and hold up your fat arse.” Grabbing a flair from my inside pocket, I popped the canister and tossed it a few feet from us, orange smoke circling up into the breaking dawn.
“Muscle arsehole, all muscle,” Deke choked out, giving me a pathetic attempt at a laugh.
“If you say so, Signal, now be quiet and save your strength for the major’s arse chewing you have coming.”
Keeping my focus on the bird in the sky, I sighed when it signalled that it was seeing my position. Deke’s faint breathing and his lethargic demeanour was worrying me. I had not been as gentle with him at times, falling once over a large boulder half-buried into the ground and accidentally dropping him when I went down. He had not even moaned, and that was not good. Watching the helicopter advance, I laid my upper body over Deke, covering him from the swirling dirt and stones from the huge blades.
“Here comes the calvary mate,” I told him, smiling as soon as the bird touched down and one man jumped out, running towards us.
“Ghost, let’s move.” The soldier yelled at me, two more soldiers coming up behind him with a gurney.
“Load him carefully fellas, he has a hell of a wound around his kidney area,” I warned them, picking Deke up and accepting the help from the medics.
“We’ve got him Lt, go get in the bird, I think you might know the pilot,” Dan, one of the medics Team FIVE often worked with, winked at me, giving me a chin lift and looking over his shoulder at the massive machine.
Not taking my eyes off Deke, I waited for them to settle him as comfortably as they could, then nodded once. I knew who was flying the chopper; Dane had just rotated back in for his second deployment. The last time I saw my younger brother had been when he first joined the Aviation Regiment and the team attended his graduation in Townsville. The whole Club had also flown up to the top end of Queensland to witness another Souls’ kid get his stripe. To say that I was proud as fuck of Dane was an understatement, my parents, too. All of us boys could fly a helicopter; Zander, my oldest brother, was the main pilot for the Wounded Sons’ charter business. He and I both got our licences first, then Dane and Chase followed later. Dane and I knew we wanted a life in the military, different branches, but we wanted to fight for our country. Zander chose to follow our father into the Club life, but it was the youngest of us boys, Chase, who took a completely different path—choosing to use his flying skills in the cold, arctic conditions in Alaska. He flew for an oil company taking workers back and forth to the rigs in the middle of the frozen ocean.
I could do with a little bit of cold right about now, I thought grimly. The sun was yet to come up, although I could feel the heat that was threatening already.
Fuck, I hate the desert almost as much as the jungle. Almost.
Running to the waiting chopper, I waved at my brother, who was sitting in the pilot seat, motionin
g for us to hurry up.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I muttered, leaping onto the deck, then turned around to help with the gurney carrying Deke.
“Hey. big brother,” Dane shouted over his shoulder at me, “finally, I get to save your arse.”
“Still can’t kick it, though, can you, Bubba?” I retorted, using the name our mother had bestowed on him.
“Fucking prick,” Dane grumbled, giving me a one-fingered salute.
Laughing, I grabbed a headset from the rack behind the pilot seat and put it on.
“Patch me through to the FOB, Dane, I need to get word to the boys I got Deke.”
Giving me a thumbs up, Dane radioed in doing as I asked.
Looking down at Deke, who was now being hooked up to an IV line, the medics tearing off his camos so they could assess his injuries. In the dim red light of the chopper, I saw what was hiding under Deke’s shirt and fuck, if I didn’t nearly vomit. His entire torso was a myriad of black, blue and red. Welts from fuck knows what kind of weapon marred his rib area, slashes from a knife, at least ten, oozed blood.
Fear choked me, my belly filling with dread as I looked up towards my brother.
“Hurry, Dane, he doesn’t have much time.”
CHAPTER TWO
COLE
The bird flew through the early morning, the wind chilly but welcome.
After months of recon missions and raids, I was ready to get back home. Usually, I didn’t ache for home like Gabe, Bastian, Grill and Rafe did. They were eager to get back to their women and Ammo and Grill to their kids as well.
Don’t get me wrong, I missed my family when I was away. My brothers and sister and I were close, and to our parents too. Seeing Dane again after months away, despite the circumstances, was a bloody relief, to be honest. His rotation was different to mine, and when we were away at the same time, it was very rare we crossed paths, with Dane flying mainly medic flights with the occasional night drops.
Cole: The Wounded Sons Page 2