by Laura Acton
Movement in the little village interrupted his recollections. Several trucks rolled in, and Dan noted a dozen men emerge from a house and begin to unload RPGs, munitions, and rifles, carrying them into various buildings. The task force headed by covert ops had not netted the source of the missing weapons, though Blaze’s unit undertook several missions based on intel provided by the lead investigator, Jorge Pletcher—a man Dan hadn’t met and almost certainly never would, given the secretive nature of black ops.
This might be the break we need, disrupt a stolen weapon delivery and identify the seller. Dan crawled to the sergeant and tapped his shoulder. “Sarge, you need to see this.”
Sergeant Marley came instantly awake at Broderick’s quiet words. He moved to the surveillance area with Broderick and scanned with his night vision binoculars. “That is a shitload of munitions.”
Dan nodded. “Yeah, and some boxes bear Canadian markings.”
Marley grinned at the thought of catching the scum who stole weapons to inflict terror on innocents. “Wake the guys. I’m going to radio this in. We can’t let that many armaments fall into the wrong hands.”
Dan shimmied down to the covered area where the men slept and started to wake them as Marley radioed in the discovery. Alert and assembled, everyone anticipated a change in orders. Marley didn’t disappoint. “Mission’s changed boys, we get to play the Grinch. Sutton has ordered us to infiltrate the village and destroy their Christmas presents.”
Marley and his men began to define tactics using their detailed observations after Dan identified the seven buildings in which crates were stored. To destroy the entire cache of arms, each unit member would target a specific site. They would set delayed explosives then hightail it back to the observation location.
It took the unit an hour and a half to plan the mission and make their way to the silent village. Noiselessly, they all proceeded to their predetermined positions. Dan worked swiftly to set all five ignition devices, and when finished, he rose and moved to the door. Releasing a breath gradually, Dan scanned outside before slipping into the shadows. So far, so good.
Set to sprint across the open square, he halted and returned to the cover of a darkened area when five men carrying assault rifles suddenly exited one of the houses. His heart raced as adrenaline began pumping. They passed by without seeing him, and Dan barely started across when all hell broke loose.
Dan cursed under his breath. One of the guys screwed up, and his charge went off prematurely. Loud booms shattered the silence as an enormous fireball lit up the inky night. Heavily armed men streamed out of several buildings, along with screaming women and children. Gunfire erupted, and utter chaos reigned. Dan had no choice but to return fire when insurgents targeted him as he raced to exfil.
At the edge of the village, he encountered a dozen young teenage boys blocking his route to safety. They appeared to be unarmed but rushed forward shouting ‘kill the infidel’ as they picked up rocks and threw them at him. Dan pivoted and sprinted in the other direction to avoid killing children. He lost them as he weaved in and out between buildings searching for another way to escape.
He skidded around the corner of a building as all of the remaining charges set by the unit detonated. Momentarily blinded by the bright flash of a blast, Dan missed the baseball-sized rock hurling towards his head. The projectile’s impact caused him to stagger sideways into a wall and sent shooting pains through his skull.
His hand automatically went up and came away sticky. Blood coursed down his face, but he had no time to consider the damage before a lanky man appeared on his right. He ducked as a second rock smashed into the wall just above him. Driving a powerful left punch into the attacker’s jaw, Dan sent the man sprawling as another hostile took a shot which whizzed by him.
Pivoting, Dan fired a short burst, killing the insurgent. Two more men came into view, one armed with a handgun and the other with a knife. Aiming to take them out, Dan found himself out of ammo. With no time to reload, he improvised by flipping his rifle in his hands. Swinging his weapon like a bat, Dan dealt a killing blow to the armed man’s temple. The assailant’s limp body crumpled as the pistol he held tumbled to the ground.
The knife-wielding terrorist dove for the 9mm, grabbing it and rolling, his intent to fire. Luckily, Dan was faster, pulling his sidearm and exterminating the vermin with two bullets to center mass. Three more insurgents emerged from a doorway, and Dan double-tapped them too.
Focused on dispatching the three, Dan failed to notice the man he initially cold-cocked had roused and was coming at him from behind. His legs swept from under him, Dan fell and struck his forehead on the compacted dirt, triggering a burst of white-hot pain. Well-honed survival instinct kicked in as Dan rolled and fired, scoring a direct hit and sending his foe straight to hell.
An excruciating headache disoriented him as he struggled to rise. Dan stumbled forward as his vision began to gray at the edges. Panic surged. I refuse to be taken captive again. Forcing himself to stay upright, he swayed and lurched as he staggered towards the outskirts of the village.
Nearly there, Dan encountered two more men. He fired and terminated one, but his final bullet missed its mark as his eyesight blurred and the target moved. The man came at him with a dagger. His clip empty, Dan reached for his K-bar. As fire ignited secondary explosions, he took advantage of the distraction and attacked his opponent.
Unfortunately, the blows to his head put him at a disadvantage and all too soon he wound up on the defensive. His reactions became sluggish, and he ended up losing his knife and gaining a slash across his bicep. Dan fought back as best he could, dealing out several solid punches and kicks. Strength and adrenaline dwindling rapidly, his blocks became less effective and the insurgent struck him repeatedly. In a last-ditch effort to save his life, Dan shoved the bearded attacker backward with everything he had left in him.
A loud crack sounded when the side of the man’s head whacked the stone wall. When he didn’t rise or come at him, Dan knelt as thoughts of his failed escape attempt rushed into his mind. He made the mistake of not killing Grape Man when he had the chance. Not making the same mistake again! Dan reached out and snapped the terrorist’s neck.
Placing his hands on the wall, Dan levered himself up. His world spun, dizzily he zigzagged with halting steps. After tottering five paces Dan’s vision dimmed and he fell to his knees. He tried to rise several times but couldn’t.
Even in his concussed and dazed state Dan understood he wouldn’t reach the rendezvous location before he lost consciousness. Hiding became his only viable option. Sheer will to survive driving his actions, Dan managed to crawl into a hovel of a house and find a tiny niche with a door. Once enclosed in the coffin-sized room, Dan buried himself in the cloth he found, hoping to remain hidden until he could escape.
Fear growing as his hold on consciousness departed, Dan softly begged, “Brody, help me. Don’t let them take me again. Find me. Save me,” before everything faded to black.
Trusting and Marley’s Unit
57
Present Day – December 24
SUV Returning to TRF HQ – 11:40 a.m.
Releasing a long breath, Dan gazed at Lexa as he finished telling an edited version of the incident. “I awoke in the base hospital five days later. Brody and Blaze sat at my bedside. They returned early from their leave when Blaze received notification of my injuries. After I hid and lost consciousness, I have no recollection of how anyone faired until Sergeant Marley visited me.
“Marley told me his entire unit, including the guy whose charge detonated prematurely, made it to the exfil site. When I didn’t show up, every one of them insisted on searching for me. They found my weapons outside a house with nine dead men. I bled heavily enough to leave a trail which they followed inside and found me unconscious under a blanket in a closet. Those guys didn’t know me, but they didn’t leave me to be taken, as Murphy and Travis did. I was only a fill-in, yet they still risked their lives to come back for me.
”
His eyes teared up, and his voice became gravelly with emotion. “Seven months later, most of the guys were butchered in a cornfield. I tried so hard to save them. To return the favor … but I failed. Only me and Shy survived the cornfield.” Dan shuddered at the memory of their dying screams.
Lexa bit her lip. She overheard Jon last year relating to Boss why Dan didn’t want to go with Loki to the corn maze. Loki became utterly freaked out when Dan explained his reason and refused to tell her any of the details. She and Ray had a hard time helping Loki accept there was no way he could’ve predicted Dan’s reaction.
Dan reached up and touched his newest bruise, weirdly in the same location as where he’d been struck before. “The rock split open a wound about three inches long on the side of my skull. The combined blows to my head gave me quite a concussion, and there was a lot of swelling which is why it took me days to wake. The knife wound was relatively minor—no stitches.”
Gaining new insight into the man before her, Lexa squeezed his hand. Though she realized he gave her an abbreviated version of events, he provided enough detail for her to understand it was an extremely traumatic experience. His worry about being taken a second time, after all he endured in captivity, would be enough to trigger a plethora of nightmares.
Adding other items she perceived while he spoke, his survivor’s guilt and inability to save those who risked their lives to rescue him, Lexa empathized with him. His wounds extensive, multi-layered, and unfathomable, she wanted to help him. When he stayed quiet for a bit, Lexa asked, “What do you think triggered your nightmare? Is it just this time of year or perhaps something else activated it?”
Dan shrugged. “I’ve given it a little thought. Perhaps being in the cemetery and hiding behind Brody’s headstone and watching the Kettle brother’s praying for guidance. They were saved by people who barely knew them, yet cared about them. Or possibly thinking about how my mind twisted memories of that first Christmas after Sara died. I can’t always determine what triggers my nightmares. Might be all of this combined.”
Lexa processed his words and became perplexed when he mentioned his terrible childhood Christmas. “What do you mean you are wrong about your ninth Christmas?”
Turning his gaze to the windshield again, Dan focused on the falling snow as the pain he caused his mom amplified his own. He remained silent, almost trance-like, for so long Lexa assumed he wouldn’t answer her.
Releasing her hand, Dan wiped at his eyes before he spoke in a soft voice. “I was so far off the mark about so many memories. Mom is helping me comprehend reality. We’ve discussed many events from my childhood. She shared with me the devastating truth of that Christmas.
“They chose to celebrate Christmas at a hotel near CFB Comox for two reasons. Foremost, my parents feared for my health—that I would go catatonic if I came home. Additionally, my father’s immense responsibilities only allowed him a single day away. Colonel Sutton stood in for him in a critical meeting so he could spend Christmas morning with my mom, sister, and me.
“My mother and Becca flew into Vancouver, took the ferry to Victoria Island, and traveled via taxi to Comox. Mom brought gifts for both Becca and me, but the bags with my presents got lost along the way. They didn’t realize until they set out the parcels in the wee hours of the morning.
“By then, all the shops were closed. My father contacted the taxi company, ferry line, and airline to locate the bag. He even attempted to get the night manager of the hotel to open the gift shop—all with no success. When Becca woke early she started bouncing around, excited Santa came. They distracted her for a bit, but I handed her a gift from me and told her to unwrap it.
“After I gave Becca the box, I noticed none were addressed to me. Mom cried when she told me she couldn’t bear witnessing the desolation in my eyes. I don’t recall crying, but she said I watched Becca open all her packages with tears streaming down my face. When she tried to explain what happened, I stated I didn’t expect gifts because I was the reason Sara died and they didn’t love me anyway. My words broke my mother’s heart that day.”
Dan flicked his eyes to Lexa. “My childhood memories are still all mixed up. Things I thought are one way are another. It is hard sometimes. Part of me connected with Ross Kettle. Different circumstances, but in a way, I’m still angry over everything and everyone I lost. Rebuilding is difficult, and I’m fully cognizant of how much it hurts to lose those I love and … well, I …”
Lexa’s heart reached out to Dan’s, wanting to pull him in and reassure him she understood. The holidays remained a time of aching for her too. Christmas used to be a time of family, but hers abandoned her. Although she chose new brothers and a surrogate father, the void in her heart where Brayden, Keagan, Finley, Aidan, and her father resided refused to be filled.
Now is not the time to share my pain with him, but soon I will offer him a peek into my world and my losses. When Dan remained silent, Lexa lay a hand over Dan’s again. “Opening up isn’t easy … fearing you will be hurt again.”
Letting out another long, low sigh, Dan marveled how Lexa read him so well—like an open book. “Thanks for listening.”
“Thank you for trusting me. I’m here anytime you need to talk. Are you ready to go?”
Dan gazed into her eyes, her golden flecks shimmered, and he glimpsed something which pulled him to her. He closed his eyes and an image of a cozy cottage with the warm and welcoming glow of a fire lighting the windows filled his mind. He stood outside on a snow-covered path as Lexa opened the door and beckoned him to come to her … to come home. His unsettled sensation ebbed away, replaced by serenity.
Opening his eyes, Dan squeezed her hand and grinned at her. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go home … um, I mean to headquarters. The team will be waiting.”
Lexa flashed him a smile, put the SUV in drive, and pulled out. She pondered his choice of words. Home? In many ways, TRF HQ is my home, one I chose and cherish. Perhaps Dan feels the same.
TRF HQ – Men’s Locker Room – 1:00 pm
Slowly tying his shoe, Loki ensured he took his time dressing. The bruising he saw when Dan pulled off his shirt to change, brought home the fact they could’ve lost him yet again. The rest of the guys rushed through changing, eager to start their time off and now only he and Dan remained in the locker area.
Noting how slow Dan moved, Loki worried if he hurt more than he let on. “You still planning on volunteering at Mayfield?”
Dan turned slightly to look at Loki. “Yeah.”
“Don’t you do a lot of the heavy lifting?”
“Yeah.” Dan reached for his jeans. That would suck with the way he felt, but he made a commitment, and he would follow through.
“Sure you should do that?” Loki asked.
“Yeah.”
Loki shook his head with a mock-serious expression. “You’re so talkative today. Wish you’d shut up and allow a guy a word in edgewise.”
Dan chuckled. “Yeah.”
A smile broke out on Loki’s face. “You should call and tell them you can’t make it—they’ll understand with your injuries. I would go help but promised to lend Ray a hand with last-minute preparations before driving him to the airport. He’s expecting me at his place in about twenty minutes.”
Standing, pulling up his pants, and zipping, Dan said, “I’m good. Helping them is important to me. Makes me … I guess I feel closer to Brody. I didn’t realize the first time I showed up at Mayfield, last Thanksgiving, but that’s where Brody volunteered when he was homeless before joining the army.”
“Wow! What a coincidence.” Loki stared at Dan.
“Yeah.” Dan’s hand absently went to Brody’s dog tag.
Loki’s eyes tracked Dan’s movement, noting the military ID. His initial concern flared again. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Dan sat down facing Loki.
Pointing to the tag, Loki inquired, “Why are you wearing your tag? You thinking of leaving us and returning to yo
ur unit?”
Dan blinked at Loki. The start with Alpha Team followed a rocky path, and he almost gave up, but he was glad he found the strength to endure. This team became his family, and he was steadily learning to open up and trust them.
Opening up to Lexa went well, and perhaps it might as well with Loki. If I share something personal, perhaps Loki will become more comfortable with me and disclose to me whatever is bothering him. My gut tells me it is more than just Loki’s ex-stepfather divorcing his mother at this time of year.
Dan said, “Not my tag. This one is Brody’s.”
“Brody’s? Why would you be wearing his?”
His thumb and index finger lifted the aluminum tag. Dan pursed his lips together gathering his thoughts. “I couldn’t for a long time. I could scarcely look at them without … feeling guilt. I’m not sure what’s changed. Maybe the passage of time, but instead of causing pain they now … well, it is like Brody is right here with me when I wear them. Like a piece of him is still here.”
Loki nodded, sort of understanding. “So not leaving us?”
Dan shook his head. “Nope. Found life’s beauty, I make a difference here and help people close up now.”
“Yeah, you do. What you were able to do for the Kettle boys—Dantastic!” Loki grinned and tied his other shoe.
“All I did was make a call … one made at your suggestion, I might add. If not for you, those boys would’ve been split up.” Dan reached for his shirt as he scrutinized Loki’s features, noting the same signs Loki displayed in the tech room the day they ended up at the zoo hunting the leopards. He wanted to talk about something privately.
Anxiously raking his errant lock of raven hair back, Loki regarded Dan a moment. “Can I talk to you about something?”