Loving Leisl (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Green Beret Book 2)

by Michele E. Gwynn

  Doc smiled. “Anytime, Leisl. Give me your phone.”

  She looked up. “What?”

  He extended his hand. “Give me your phone. Please?”

  His brown eyes were suddenly full of mischief and she swore his dimples were winking at her. Could dimples wink? She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cellular. He took it, swiping the screen once before picking up her hand in his and gently placing her thumb on the lock screen to open it. His skin was warm and rough, and again, he held her fingers a little longer than necessary before releasing them. Two swipes and several key clicks later, he handed it back.

  “There. You have my number,” he said, “in case you get lonely during dinner or Pooch wants to chat. Or anything. Emergencies, whatever. You can text me. If I don’t answer right away, I will text you back as soon as possible. I promise. Just remember my phone will be off most of the time.”

  Leisl stood there, baffled by his words. She was used to soldiers trying to hook up with her when they passed through. Usually, she kept her head down and ignored them. They’d say obvious and outrageous things better left unanswered, but this man was different. He hadn’t come on to her like a freight train. Instead, he’d been kind, funny, and considerate. And now he was leaving.

  “Will you be back,” she asked before she could stop herself.

  The smile on his face grew even wider if that was possible. “If you want me to, I will.”

  “Oh, well, I was just curious,” she said, looking sideways. “I know you probably can’t talk about these things since it’s obvious you’re part of a Spec Ops team, but—”

  Arms snaked around her waist pulling her close. She was held firmly against his rock-hard chest, the one she’d run head-long into minutes before. Heat ignited within her sending delicious flames shooting south of her border. The intensity surprised her. Not because he was handsome, that was obvious to anyone with eyes, but because she never let men get this close. Her past experience made it impossible to even consider. “Leisl, if you want me to come back, I will. Do you want me to come back?” The smile was gone and the mischief that had been dancing in his eyes was replaced with a quiet sincerity.

  “I…” she swallowed. “Yes. Come back, Jason.”

  The sound of his name on her lips pleased him to no end. “Okay.” And with that, he leaned down placing a soft, warm, feather-light kiss upon her cheek before turning to go.

  Chapter 6

  Doc and Nate were ready when the helo landed. Skyscraper, Hollywood, and Ghost jumped out, ducking low and running clear of the Chinook’s blades. As soon as it delivered the men, it took off once again.

  “Nice to see you boys,” said Nate. “Don’t get comfortable. We have a jeep waiting. We’re heading out, south-bound to the Saudi border.”

  Ghost, Nate’s second in command, raised a pale eyebrow. An albino from birth, Allen Williamson stood out in a crowd. In combat, he kept his pale hair covered with an army bandana and helmet and covered his face using a camo stick. The dark paint helped him blend in and protected his sensitive skin from sunburn in the Middle Eastern heat. Sunglasses hid his light blue-grey eyes. “New mission?”

  “Same mission, new information.” Nate looked at each of his men in turn.

  Hollywood’s face screwed up in confusion. “But we just left Wolf’s team. They’ve taken over.”

  “I know. While you were in transport, command contacted me. The chemist is being moved south and we’re now the closest team. There’s no time to waste. Wolf’s team won’t make it in time. The location’s been moved just ten miles south of this base. We don’t have exact coordinates yet, just one clue, actually.”

  “And what’s that?” Skyscraper asked. He stood taller than all of his teammates at 6’7”. A native of New Orleans, Marcus DuBose was also the quietest among them, and when it came to sneaking up on the enemy, he was the deadliest.

  “We’re looking for a small building, probably near the base of the mountain range, with one red stone in the rock wall. That’s all the intel COMM could garner.”

  “Any word on how many combatants?” Ghost asked.

  “Last satellite imagery collected revealed a two-car caravan heading in that direction. No way to know how many inside the vehicles. SUVs, both. Could be three to eight.” Nate hefted his pack onto his shoulder. “Ready?”

  “Damn right, we’re ready. I’m just stoked the SEALs won’t be nabbing our target.” Hollywood grinned. Skyscraper winked and fist-bumped him.

  “How’s our boy?” Ghost asked, following Nate.

  Doc answered. “He’s intact. Old numb-nuts is going to milk this one for all it’s worth. Already flirting with his nurse and splitting his stitches.”

  “He got a boner?” Hollywood asked, laughing.

  Nate glanced over his shoulder. “Full staff. Damn-near made him cry too.”

  “Pussy.” Skyscraper grinned. “Damn glad they were able to save his sac though.”

  “Yeah,” Hollywood said. “Hey, Outlaw, do they take the de-balled in PATCH-COM?”

  “PATCH-COM,” said Skyscraper. “What the hell’s that?”

  Ghost fell in line next to him. “An urban myth. Supposed to be another Spec Ops group, but this one’s for wounded warriors unwilling to lie down. The way I heard it they take any and all Special Forces ‘broke dicks’ who’ve lost an arm or a leg or an eye and they patch them up like fucking Universal Soldiers. Give ‘em high-tech prosthetics, retrain them, and send them back into combat. There’s an extra layer of secrecy on their top secret missions.”

  Nate grunted, “Broke dick. Eastwood’s new nickname.”

  “A myth. So it doesn’t exist?” Hollywood asked.

  Nate stopped at the jeep. “Who knows? We only know what COM-SAD tells us and right now, that mission is to locate the chemist and bring him in. They want him alive.”

  Doc grinned, clapping Hollywood on the back. “Dude, do you really think the army or any branch of the military is slapping soldiers together with spit and tape like fucking MacGyver and sending them back in? What’s a broke dick gonna do? Beat a terrorist with his wooden leg?” He shook his head, chuckling as he hopped into the backseat. “Next thing, Hollywood, you’ll be telling me we got blade runner Snake Eaters and an armless army. You should write books.”

  Hollywood slid in next to Doc and ended up sandwiched between him and Skyscraper. Nate and Ghost took the front seats with Ghost driving. “My older brother mentioned PATCH-COM to me about a year ago. I was visiting him at Walter Reed. You know he lost his leg from the knee down after his unit rolled up onto a body-bomb in the middle of a damned dirt road. He was still on a morphine drip so I didn’t know what he was talking about. Kept saying he was invited to join PATCH-COM, but he hadn’t decided if he would. Mom thought he was drugged out of his head. He did have a problem with painkillers after that. Took him nine months to get clean of them. Damn. It would be a good story though.”

  “That’s why we keep you around, Hollywood,” said Doc.

  “We ride the first five miles,” said Nate. “After that, we find a spot to hide the jeep and hump that last five. General coordinates will put us inside the correct region, but it’s up to us to locate this safe house and we only have a twenty-four hour window before they move this bastard again. If they slip the net, they’ll be inside Saudi and gone. Let’s not fuck this up.”

  Each man faced forward, responding, “Sir, yes, sir!”

  “Enter.” Leisl sat next to Major Ross in the small waiting room outside Colonel Jackson’s office. Two hours had passed since breakfast. For Leisl, it was time spent reflecting on the awkward yet intense encounter with Jason. She could still feel the touch of his hands on her waist and the heat of his lips on her cheek. Her own hand had reached up, covering that spot throughout breakfast repeatedly as if she could erase the lingering effect or maybe capture and keep it forever. She was so preoccupied that Pooch took advantage of her inattention creeping up from under the table and stealing the bac
on off her plate. When she’d looked down it was gone. The dog stared at her, peeking out once again from the relative safety of the table, licking his chops, completely unrepentant. Somehow, she couldn’t be mad.

  After she’d finished her eggs and toast, she filled the pilfered bedpan that served as Pooch’s water bowl outside the medical staff quarters near the door. That’s where Major Ross found her.

  “We have an audience with the Colonel in an hour. I need to make rounds, check on my patients. Meet me at HQ then. And Leisl, don’t fret.” He smiled, patting her on the arm. “Everything will be alright.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, saluting him. He returned the gesture, heading off to the makeshift hospital ward as she made her way back to her room with nothing left to do for an hour except think. It was the longest hour of her life. Before she knew it, she was sitting in the Colonel’s small, airless waiting room with a bead of sweat trickling down her spine.

  One harshly barked order and it was time to meet her fate. She only hoped she didn’t lose everything she’d worked so hard to achieve. And down deep, she hoped she didn’t lose her life. There was too much left to do, too much possibility and perhaps…promise.

  For Leisl, there hadn’t been much interest early on in boyfriends. While everyone else in high school spent their time trying to hook up with someone, she kept her nose buried in books or listening to music. Both were her go-to escapes from reality. It was one foster home after another never really giving her the chance to make friends, and she could’ve used one. When the eldest son of her last foster parents began showing too much interest in what she wore and where she went, there was no one to go to for help, least of all his parents. They collected the state’s check paid out monthly to provide her with a place to sleep and ignored her for the most part. Both of the Mastersons were heavy drinkers six days a week. On the seventh day, they attended church and held off hitting the bottle until Sunday dinner which consisted of Kentucky Fried Chicken for all, Mountain Dew for the kids, and Bourbon for the adults.

  The double-wide trailer they lived in sat on a corner lot in a small town in West Virginia. The Mastersons had two sons and one daughter. Gloria was seventeen and already had her first child. The baby was sweet, but Gloria could never be described as such. Her wanton ways were well-known around high school and a lot of the kids made a game of speculating about who the father of the child might be. The two sons were opposites in every way. The younger boy, Travis, made good grades and managed to steer clear of trouble. She liked him. Sometimes he would come in and ask what she was reading looking for someone to just pay him some attention. It felt natural to invite him over to sit next to her. He would read over her shoulder and ask a lot of questions. Intelligent questions. He was a smart kid.

  The older son, Tim, sought trouble like an addict. At nineteen, he drank and smoked like his parents. Unlike the one-day-a-week Baptists, he avoided church and instead, often found himself on the wrong side of the law. Possession of narcotics, theft, battery, and DUIs were just a few of the crimes on his long list of offenses. He didn’t seem to care for anything at all except getting what he wanted when he wanted it.

  One cold Sunday morning in February of Leisl’s senior year, his parents took Travis off to church ignoring her as usual. Tim stayed behind, keyed up on coke. He walked into her bedroom, a strange look in his eyes. That day, with no one around to hear her scream, he added rape to his rap sheet. She tried telling his mother when they got home, but Mrs. Masterson took her son’s side yelling, spittle flying, calling a then seventeen-year-old Leisl an evil temptress and a whore.

  “I knew you’d be trouble the day you arrived, you ungrateful slut! Get out of my house! You’re not worth the $750 a month. Get out and take your lies with you! If you even try to go to the police, I’ll tell them you molested Travis!”

  The terror that seized her soul was as real as the hot, one-hundred proof, stale cigarette breath assaulting her senses as the bloated woman stood over her shaking a chipped, yellow fingernail in her face.

  Not knowing what to do, she’d run to her room and thrown the few things she owned into her back pack and ran out the back door. She had nowhere to go. No money. Nothing at all, and still had three months left to graduate. That night, she slept inside the bathroom stall of an all-night diner. Huddled in the corner, she gripped her back pack, afraid every time someone came in that she would be discovered and kicked out. She could hear the strangers doing their business in the other two stalls. Now and again, someone would try the door where she sat before giving up and walking next door. She washed her face and brushed her teeth in the morning, slipping out in the pre-dawn light and heading off to school.

  The next three nights were the same before one of the waitresses noticed. Her name was Rose and until the day she died, Leisl knew she’d never forget her or her kindness. Rose recognized a soul in need. It was with her help that Oscar Ruiz, the diner’s owner and manager, and also Rose’s husband, hired her. She waited tables after school, and because Rose had such a kind heart, was offered a spare room in her house. Rose made sure Leisl did her homework, helped her learn how to save her money, and when it came time to graduate, it was Rose and Oscar who were there cheering her as she walked the stage.

  Oscar Ruiz was a retired Gunnery Sergeant with twenty-three years of service to his country before returning to West Virginia and opening the diner. He and Rose were good people. They raised a son who went on to serve in the Marines. As far as Leisl knew, he was still active duty, but it had been years now since she’d last communicated with Rose. There were a few letters during the first two years after she enlisted, but after that, her nursing studies and demands of the job took her far from that small town, far from everything she wanted to forget.

  All that had happened in her young life spurred her on. She never wanted to rely on anyone for anything again. She’d been let down enough. Her mother’s selfish choices left her to fend for herself while being jostled between foster families who cared only for the monthly compensation they received from the state, not about her. The only compassion and care she could recall came from Rose and Oscar, and she was grateful, but didn’t really know how to show her gratitude. The only real love she could pinpoint came from Pooch. The mutt was easy to love. He didn’t ask for anything except food, water, and ear scratches.

  In all, it was a shitty history, one she kept to herself. The situation she now faced was one in which, for the first time ever, she wished for someone by her side, someone to help her get through. Someone who might, at the very least, tell her it was going to be okay.

  When Leisl left Colonel Jackson’s office, she felt numb. He was understanding, but the man was a soldier first. He saw everything in black and white.

  “That’s a tough break, Sergeant.” He turned his attention to Major Ross. “Make the arrangements. Next transport back to the states. If you need help, my secretary will assist. I’ll sign off on the release as soon as he gets it on my desk. Dismissed.”

  That was it. Her fate decided in the blink of an eye. A tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it away before Major Ross could see.

  “I’ll let you know the details as soon as I have them. Is there any particular place you’d like to go? Where’s home? I’ll see if I can get you into a VA hospital nearby.”

  Leisl swallowed. “Anywhere that can take me is fine. My parents are dead. I don’t have a home.”

  The Major blinked, quickly masking his surprise, and then nodded. “Okay. I’ll let you know. See you at 1600.” He dismissed her as the Colonel had done, walking away in long strides.

  It was nearly lunch, but she wasn’t hungry. The ringing in her ear returned, keening as she made her way across camp to her quarters. Halfway there, Pooch saw her coming and ran to greet her, falling in step at her side. Together they walked to the medical staff quarters. Needing comfort, Leisl snuck Pooch inside, down the hall, and to her room. It was a rare treat for the dog who’d only seen the inside of her quarte
rs during bad storms.

  “You’ll have to be quiet, Pooch,” she said, dropping down onto the cot. “But I’m glad you’re here.” She laid back, rolling to her side with one arm hanging down. The dog stuck his beige head under her hand taking a spot on the floor next to her. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, boy.” Reality sank in as she realized she would be leaving soon. “And I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. God, what am I going to do, boy?” Tears sprang from her eyes and her throat tightened painfully. “I don’t want to leave you here.” She swallowed the lump threatening to choke her. “I’ll ask Angie to watch over you.”

  Pooch whined, lifting his head to lick her face.

  She felt hopeless. With nowhere to go, no one to help, and the agony of having to leave behind the only creature on earth she loved, Leisl reached a breaking point. The tears fell and kept on coming. Through it all, Pooch stayed by her side, licking her hand. Before long, exhaustion pulled her down into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 7

  The team ditched the jeep near an outcropping of boulders. After covering it with a camouflage tarp and branches pulled off a nearby bush Nate briefed the men on the next leg of their journey.

  “We’ll head southwest to this area,” he pointed to the map pulled up on the screen of his GPS tablet. “It’s nothing but rocky terrain along this side of the mountain range. Not much cover. If we hump it fast, we’ll make it there before sundown and have time to scout the buildings. We’ll have to climb to a good vantage point.”

  “Sounds good.” Ghost glanced down the expanse before them. “We’d better get moving.”

  Skyscraper fell in line behind Ghost and Outlaw. Doc moved in next, pulling his cell phone out of his vest pocket and staring at the screen.

  “What’re you looking at, Doc?” Hollywood asked.

  Doc shut the cell phone down. No electronic signals allowed from here on in. He shoved the phone back into his vest pocket and zipped it closed. “Nothing,” he said.