Origins

by A D Starrling

  Rachel suppressed a grimace. Would have been nice if it wasn't mission number thirteen though.

  Although she tried hard not to fall prey to baseless superstitions, an Irish upbringing and a grandmother who was more catholic than the Pope made this a tricky goal to achieve. Still, the number thirteen was unpopular even with members of the military special ops forces.

  The staccato of gunfire started to die down in the distance. Moments later, the words she had been waiting to hear came over the channel.

  'Alpha Team, this is Alpha One. We have control of the ship. Helos are on the way. Stand by for further instructions, over.'

  'Alpha One, this is Alpha Two. Standing by, out,' said Rachel.

  A sigh escaped her lips. She allowed herself to relax slightly, the guns still close at hand.

  Though they had been weary after the mission in Yemen, the chance to save lives and gather intelligence on the elusive drug cartel they suspected had been behind many attempted military coups and terrorist attacks across the northern African continent had galvanized the FAST team into action. This was the kind of stuff they lived and breathed for.

  It took them less than eighteen hours to assess, plan, and execute the rescue mission in the Gulf of Aden, with the support of a U.S. Navy amphibious assault ship and a destroyer.

  Fifteen minutes later, two UH-1N Huey helicopters touched down on the main deck of the Nostradamus. The Marine Special Ops team aboard soon assumed control of the ship from the FAST team.

  Rachel handed the communications room over to the two soldiers who came to relieve her.

  'You guys did good,' said one of the men. He glanced at the bodies on the floor. 'I hear there are no casualties among your team or the hostages.'

  She headed for the door, a small smile on her lips. 'Our team leader runs a tight ship.'

  'I hear he's got a good XO.'

  The soldier's gaze skimmed her figure, admiration evident in his eyes. His companion elbowed him in the ribs.

  Rachel's smile turned into a full-blown grin that caused the Marine's breath to catch in his throat.

  'That he has,' she said with a humble nod.

  And this XO wants to see her commanding officer right now.

  She found Benjamin Westfield, aka Alpha One, on the bridge of the ship, where he stood in conversation with the Marine Special Ops team leader. Lights blazed through the windows of the superstructure dominating the cargo ship's upper deck. In the darkness beyond, she made out the assault ship and the destroyer on a fast approach, the waters of the Gulf parting in white, phosphorescent waves beneath their bows.

  Thirty feet below the bridge of the Nostradamus, the hostages were being led to the safety of the Huey helicopters. The pirates who had survived the attack knelt in a huddle inside a ring of armed FAST agents and Marines on the starboard side of the main deck.

  The ringleader of the pirates lay dead on the bridge. Next to him was another man. This one was very much alive and bleeding heavily from a gunshot wound to the abdomen. He was being attended to by Tom "Hannibal" Cook, aka Alpha Five, the FAST team's medic.

  'Yeah, yeah, it sucks to be shot,' muttered Hannibal as the injured man groaned beneath his ministering hands. 'Shouldn't have seized this ship then, should you? Asshole.' He looked up when he spotted Rachel. 'Hey. We thought you were toast when you didn't respond earlier.' He glanced to the left and grinned. 'Ben was having kittens.'

  Ben concluded his conversation and frowned at Hannibal.

  'I was not having kittens,' he said in a hard voice. His gaze found her face. His eyes softened almost imperceptibly.

  Rachel clamped down on the hot emotions flooding her chest as she walked up to him, aware of the Marine team leader's curious glance from the other side of the bridge.

  Ben's were the most expressive eyes she had ever seen. Normally the color of the sky, they invariably changed with his emotions. They could be as cold and as bright as diamonds when he got angry or turn the color of sapphires when he was happy. But the color she had come to love the most, the one that made her heart melt and her body tremble, was the cobalt-blue of his irises when they made love.

  'Sweetheart, you and I need to have a talk when this is over,' she said quietly, her face impassive.

  Guilt flashed across Ben's face. She was the only one close enough to see it.

  'I was just worried about my XO.' He paused and dropped his voice to a whisper. 'My very sexy XO.'

  Rachel shivered when he surreptitiously touched her hand, his fingers leaving a hot trail on her skin. Sensual images of the last time they had slept together danced across her inner vision.

  Not that we did much sleeping, she thought, feeling the flames of desire burn through her core once more.

  They first met eight months ago, on the day she landed in Afghanistan to take on the role of XO in the DEA's most active FAST team, the previous agent in that role having moved back to the agency's U.S. headquarters. The attraction between them had been instantaneous and as scalding as the heat of the battles they went on to face together. After fighting their feelings for nearly half a year, they finally succumbed to the undeniable pull that existed between them.

  More than the great sex, and the sex was THE best she'd ever had, that either of them had ever had, Rachel soon realized she had found her soulmate in Ben. They were compatible in almost every way, not just physically, but intellectually and emotionally, with the same life aspirations and ambitions. It was worth the years of shitty, short, unsatisfying relationships she had endured in the little personal time she had had while she worked her way up the career ladder to be at the top of her field in the DEA.

  Ben was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And she was the woman he wanted to grow old with.

  She hid a smile when she thought of the engagement ring in the top drawer of her bedside table in her quarters back at their base in Afghanistan. Ben had proposed at the end of a grueling training day exactly one week ago, while they were both still dusty and sweaty from a ten-mile run in the desert. There had been tears of joy, followed by hours of heated lovemaking that almost broke the bed in his room.

  Still, a tinge of sorrow had tainted their happy day. Rachel had applied for a transfer to Quantico, where the other FAST teams were stationed at the Marine Corps Base. Their rapidly burgeoning relationship meant they couldn't work together much longer; to continue to do so would violate the DEA and special ops’ rules and compromise the safety of their team on the field. It also meant that, bar a few stolen weeks here and there, they would live apart for a good few years until Ben rotated back into one of the U.S. FAST teams or progressed into a more senior role in the DEA, something his father desperately wanted.

  'Nearly patched up,' Hannibal muttered from the other side of the bridge. 'What the—hey, you shouldn't be moving around so much!'

  Rachel looked past Ben.

  The injured pirate had rolled onto his front and was crawling across the deck toward the bulkhead where the dead ringleader lay. An incomprehensible mumble escaped his lips. His movements grew frantic, fear evident on his face. Hannibal grabbed his shoulder and frowned at the man's garbled speech.

  Rachel froze. Ben tensed. They both recognized one of the Somalian words the man had spoken.

  Hannibal paled as he looked in the direction the man was pointing. From his position beside the pirate, the DEA agent could see under the table next to the bulkhead.

  He turned and shouted, 'BOMB!'

  The last thing Rachel saw was Ben moving in front of her.

  The last thing she heard was the explosion.

  The last thing she felt was scorching pain as her body drifted helplessly through the air, skin crisping and flesh succumbing to flames and pressure waves from the blast.

  Then darkness engulfed her, scattering her hopes and dreams to the winds.

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