Six Minutes to Midnight

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Six Minutes to Midnight Page 3

by Elle James


  “Never.” Harm shrugged into his vest and secured several empty magazines into the straps. “Let’s quit flapping our gums and go meet up with your cute dog handler.”

  “She’s not my dog handler.”

  “No?” Harm gave him a side-eye glance and raised one eyebrow. “Sure looked like it to the rest of us.”

  “She’s not my dog handler,” T-Mac insisted, his tone hard, his lips tight.

  “Whatever you say.” Harm grabbed his helmet and stepped out of the box. “But between the two of you redheads, you’d make some really cute redheaded babies.”

  “She’s not my redhead,” T-Mac said through clenched teeth as he snagged his helmet and followed Harm. “And we’re not having babies.”

  “Who’s having babies?” Buck fell in step behind Harm and T-Mac. “If T-Mac is planning on marrying the dog handler, they can start their own ginger basketball team. Or hockey team. Or whatever team they want. They’d all be gingers.”

  “We’re not getting married. She’s not my dog handler, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything around her about babies and basketball teams.” T-Mac picked up the pace, hoping that by walking faster, his teammates wouldn’t have the time nor desire to poke fun at him.

  Pitbull and Big Jake stepped out of the quarters they shared.

  “What’s this about babies and basketball teams?” Pitbull asked. “Is T-Mac marrying his dog handler?”

  T-Mac threw his hand in the air. “She’s not my dog handler.”

  Big Jake chuckled. “I think he protests too much. I swear I saw something between the two of them.”

  “You can’t see something that wasn’t there.” T-Mac sighed. “I get it. This is all part of razzing me because I choose to stay a bachelor and have my pick of women out there while you losers commit to being with one woman for the rest of your lives. I think I have the better deal.”

  “What deal?” Diesel jogged to catch up to the team. “What did I miss?”

  “T-Mac’s met his match,” Buck said.

  T-Mac gritted his teeth. “I didn’t.”

  “His dog handler?” Diesel guessed.

  “She’s not my dog handler.” T-Mac might as well have been talking to a wall.

  “Oh, he’s going to fall hard,” Diesel said. “She’s got attitude and a dog. A killer combination. What’s not to love about that?”

  “I’m not in love. She’s not my handler, and I don’t even think the dog likes me.” He glanced toward the container where Specialist Anderson was staying and debated walking past and letting her find her own way to where the helicopters were parked. But he’d promised to walk with her. He slowed, hoping the rest of the team would walk on without questioning why he was stopping.

  But he knew them better than that. They weren’t stupid and they would figure it out pretty quickly.

  “Look, guys, could you be serious for once?” He turned and raised his hand to knock on the door.

  All five of his friends came to a complete stop.

  T-Mac groaned as the door opened.

  Agar came out first and immediately sniffed T-Mac’s crotch.

  A rumble of chuckles sounded behind T-Mac.

  “I guess the dog likes you after all,” Buck muttered.

  More chuckles sounded.

  Heat rose up T-Mac’s neck into his cheeks as he glanced up at Specialist Anderson. “Don’t listen to anything these yahoos say. They’re all full of... Well, they’re full of it, anyway.”

  * * *

  KINSLEY TORE HER gaze away from the SEAL standing in front of her looking all hot and incredibly sexy in his combat gear. Beyond Petty Officer McGuire stood five of the other men who’d been in the command center minutes before. She stepped out of the doorway, looped the strap of her rifle over her shoulder and double-wrapped the dog’s lead around her hand. “What am I not supposed to listen to them about?”

  “Tell her, T-Mac,” one of them encouraged.

  “We don’t have time for games,” McGuire said. “We have a mission to accomplish before we head home.”

  “You’re heading home?” Kinsley asked.

  “Four days and a wakeup,” the tallest of the group answered.

  “Where’s home?” Kinsley fell in step with them as they wove their way through the temporary buildings to the landing strip where planes and helicopters parked.

  “Little Creek, Virginia,” McGuire answered.

  “What about you?” one of the guys asked. “Where is your home base?”

  “San Antonio, Texas, was my last PCS assignment,” Kinsley said.

  “That’s where they train Military Working Dogs, isn’t it?” McGuire asked. “They have a facility at Lackland Air Force Base. Is that where you and Agar received your training?”

  She nodded. “I spent the past year in training.”

  “T-Mac says this is your first assignment since training.”

  Again, Kinsley nodded. “That’s true. Agar was the best in his class. He could find trace amounts of explosives that none of our own detection equipment could pick up.” She patted the dog’s head. “He’s good at what he does. If there are IEDs or land mines, he’ll prove himself tonight.”

  As they reached the helicopters, more SEALs gathered. Ammunition was dispensed. Then it came time for them to load into the helicopters.

  Kinsley started for one of the choppers away from McGuire and his group.

  The navy commander who’d briefed them caught up to her. “You’re riding in the other bird. Stick with T-Mac. He’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Kinsley insisted.

  “I understand,” the commander said. “But the team isn’t used to working with a dog and its handler. It’s for their safety as well as yours.”

  Kinsley couldn’t argue with that. Apparently, she was to have a handler. “Yes, sir.”

  The commander escorted her back to the other helicopter where McGuire, or T-Mac, as his team nicknamed him, stood, waiting his turn to climb aboard.

  “T-Mac,” the commander called out.

  The SEAL turned when he saw who was with his superior.

  “I have an assignment for you,” Commander Ward said.

  “Yes, sir,” T-Mac replied.

  “You’re to keep up with Specialist Anderson and Sergeant Agar. Bring them back safely.”

  T-Mac’s eyes narrowed. “Sir?”

  Kinsley stiffened.

  The SEAL didn’t look too excited.

  “You heard me,” the commander said. “Take care of them out there. You don’t know what you’ll be up against.”

  “Yes, sir.” T-Mac nodded.

  When the others in the helicopter chuckled, T-Mac shot a glare their way.

  With the odd feeling she wasn’t in on the joke, Kinsley stepped up to the chopper.

  “Has Agar been in a helicopter?” T-Mac asked.

  Kinsley nodded. “Not only has he been up, he’s been hoisted in and out on a cable multiple times. He’s calm throughout.”

  “Good.” T-Mac offered her a hand up.

  Ignoring the hand, Kinsley motioned for Agar to go first. Then she stepped up into the chopper and found a seat between the tallest guy and one who was stout with a barrel chest. She settled between them and buckled her safety harness, keeping Agar close at her feet.

  “I’m Jake,” said the tall man. “They call me Big Jake.”

  Kinsley shook hands with the man. “Nice to meet you, Big Jake.”

  “I’m Pitbull.” The barrel-chested guy stuck out his hand. “Here, you’ll need these.” He handed her a headset.

  She removed her helmet and settled the headset over her ears. Immediately, she could hear static and the pilot and copilot performing a communications check with the passengers.

  She watche
d and listened as each of the SEALs answered, and she committed their names to memory.

  “Diesel.”

  “Pitbull.”

  “Buck.”

  “Big Jake.”

  “Harm.”

  “T-Mac.”

  Her heart skipped several beats when T-Mac spoke. He sat in the seat opposite, his gaze on her. When no one else spoke, he winked and touched his finger to his own microphone.

  Kinsley realized she’d forgotten to say her name. With heat rising up in her cheeks, she spoke into the mic. “Anderson and Agar.”

  T-Mac grinned.

  A moment later, the helicopter lifted off the ground, swung out over the Gulf of Aden and then turned south, back over the Horn of Africa.

  The sun had sunk low on the horizon, bathing the land in a bright orange glow.

  If they hadn’t been headed into a potentially hostile environment, Kinsley would have enjoyed the view, the sunset and the warm wind blowing in her face. But this was her first real combat assignment. She wasn’t scared, but she was anxious to do well.

  She sat back in her seat, forcing herself to be calm. Agar needed her full focus. He sensed her every mood and emotion. He needed to know she was in full control of herself as well as him. They’d trained to save lives by finding dangers lurking beneath the surface or behind walls.

  For the duration of the flight, she concentrated on reducing her heart rate, breathing deeply and going over everything she’d learned in the intensive training she’d been through with Agar. Dogs weren’t deployed unless they were ready. And dog handlers didn’t last long in training if they weren’t capable, consistent and calm. She’d excelled along with Agar.

  All of her training had been for more than inspecting vehicles entering through the post gates.

  Agar nudged her foot with his nose and looked up at her.

  Kinsley rubbed the dog’s snout and scratched him behind his ears.

  He laid his head on her lap, as if sensing her unrest.

  When Kinsley glanced up again, it was to stare across the darkening fuselage at the SEAL seated across from her. Though she resented feeling like she had to be babysat, she was glad she had someone with more combat experience watching her back.

  All too soon, the helicopter touched down. The second one landed beside it.

  Kinsley removed the helicopter headset, slipped her helmet on and latched the buckle beneath her chin. She exited the aircraft and stood to the side with Agar while all twelve SEALs alighted, checked their gear and waited for the signal to move out.

  T-Mac approached her and handed her a small electronic device. “You’ll need these earpieces to hear the team as we move through the village. You’ll have to keep them up-to-date while they’re looking for our traitor.”

  Kinsley fitted the device in her ear and spoke. “Testing.”

  Big Jake took charge, giving directions, performing one last communication check on their radio headsets.

  After everyone checked in, Big Jake gathered them in a circle. “The village should be another four clicks to the east. We need to get in, clear the rubble of any enemy combatants and wait for the handoff. Any questions?”

  Big Jake nodded toward Kinsley. “Take it, dog soldier.”

  Kinsley’s heartbeat quickened. This was it. She and Agar had a job to do, lives to save and explosives to find.

  She tugged on Agar’s lead, sending him in the direction Big Jake indicated. She allowed the dog to run out at the extent of the retractable lead and walked behind him. She carried her rifle in her right hand, the lead in her left.

  T-Mac fell in step beside her, his specialized M4A1 at the ready position.

  Darkness had settled over the landscape with a blanket of stars lighting their way.

  Agar zigzagged back and forth in front of her, his nose to the ground, tail wagging, moving swiftly enough that Kinsley had to hustle to keep up.

  One kilometer passed without incident. Then two. As they neared their target, Kinsley slowed Agar, encouraging him to take his time. The team had chosen to approach the abandoned village from the west, establish a defensive position and wait for the party to start. The handoff was supposed to take place at midnight. That gave them a few hours to get in place and hunker down.

  From what some of her more experienced counterparts had reported, sometimes it took hours to navigate a quarter-mile stretch. If their adversary considered the location to be worth the effort to defend or sabotage, they could have rigged it with land mines or trip wires hooked to detonators.

  Glad for T-Mac’s protection, she led the SEALs toward the crumbled buildings at the edge of the little village.

  As they neared the closest of what was left of a mud-and-stick hut, Agar stopped, sniffed and lay down on the ground.

  Kinsley’s pulse quickened. “He found something.”

  She marked the spot with a flag and bent to scratch Agar behind the ears, then gave him the command to continue his search. Within a few feet he lay down again.

  Marking the new spot, Kinsley worked with Agar, moving a few feet at time, ever closer to the village, at what felt like an excruciatingly slow pace.

  “I don’t like it,” T-Mac said. “If they have a sniper waiting in one of those buildings, they can easily pick us off.”

  “Unless they figure the explosives will alert them to anyone coming in from this direction,” Big Jake said into Kinsley’s ear.

  She ignored the chatter and continued until she and Agar had identified a clear path to the village through what appeared to be a short field of submerged mines.

  Once inside the crumbled walls of the village, Agar moved from structure to structure, sniffing without lying down.

  Kinsley didn’t let her guard down for a moment. After encountering the mines, she wouldn’t put it past whoever set them to have more hidden treasures to keep unwanted visitors out.

  She had Agar enter huts along the way, clear them and move on, aiming toward the center of the village and the road that led through the middle.

  All the while, T-Mac remained at her side, his weapon ready, hand on the trigger.

  As Agar neared the building on the edge of the road, he slowed. His hackles rose on the back of his neck and he uttered a low and dangerous growl.

  Kinsley dropped to a squat in the shadow of the nearest building.

  T-Mac followed her movement and knelt on one knee at her side. “What’s the growl mean?”

  “Someone’s nearby,” Kinsley whispered.

  T-Mac held up a hand where the others could see his command to stop.

  Kinsley didn’t dare look back. All her focus was on Agar and what was in front of the dog.

  “We’ll take it from here.” T-Mac rose and started forward.

  Kinsley caught his arm before he could move past her. “But what if there are more explosives?”

  “You’re not going any farther.” T-Mac glanced down at her. “Bring Agar back.”

  Kinsley didn’t like being relegated to the rear. She’d come this far; she wanted to complete her work.

  Before she could bring Agar back, the dog turned and entered a building, his growls increasing in volume and intensity.

  Kinsley hurried after him.

  “Wait,” T-Mac called after her.

  She had to know Agar was all right. As she ran forward, she pulled her flashlight from her pocket. When she turned into the doorway of the building, she flipped on the switch and shone the light, filtered with a red lens, into the room.

  Agar stood with his feet planted and his lips pulled back in a wicked snarl.

  As she panned the light around to see what Agar was growling at, a man’s face appeared in the glow...a face she knew.

  Kinsley gasped but didn’t have time to react when the man lifted his rifle and fired point-blank into her chest.
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  The bullet hit with enough force to knock her backward through the door. She landed flat on her back and lay stunned.

  Before she could catch her breath, the world erupted in gunfire around her.

  Agar flew out of the building and landed on his side.

  “No!” Kinsley screamed silently, though nothing would come from her lungs. She rolled to her side and tried to rise.

  Agar yelped, the kind of sound only emitted when an animal was hurt.

  Pushing past her own breathlessness and the pain in her chest, Kinsley crawled toward the dog, her heart in her throat, her need to reach Agar foremost in her mind.

  Then an explosion went off in the building in front of her, shooting mud, rock and shrapnel in all directions.

  Kinsley felt the force of the blast against her eardrums. Her body was peppered with rock and shrapnel like so many pellets from a shotgun shell. Dust billowed outward, choking the air, blinding Kinsley before she could reach Agar.

  A sharp pain ripped through her side; still she staggered to her feet, crying out, “Agar!”

  A high-pitched whistling sound screamed through the air.

  “Incoming!” T-Mac yelled. Then he hit her from behind, sending her flying through the air to land hard on the packed dirt.

  T-Mac landed on top of her, knocking the air from her lungs yet again. At the same time, another explosion rocked the ground she lay against.

  Her ears rang, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe or move. Dust and debris rained down on them. A darkness so deep closed in on her, threatening to pull her under.

  “Agar.” She reached out her hand, patting the ground, unable to move or crawl forward. Then her fingers touched fur. A sob rose in her throat as her vision faded and the ringing in her ears became a roar. She couldn’t pass out. Agar needed her.

  The next thing she knew, she was being lifted into the air. She struggled to get free. “No.”

  “Be still, Kinsley.” T-Mac’s voice sounded in her ear. “I’ll get you out of here.”

 

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