Hitched

by Lea Hart

  “Jeeezus. What is it with SEALs telling me how it’s going to be despite my wishes?”

  “What other damn SEALs are talking to you?” he roared. “Is someone making a play for you and that’s why you don’t want to see me?”

  “My dad came by today, planted his butt at my kitchen table, and informed me that he was going to have a relationship with Chance and me whether we were interested or not, and now you’ve done the same damn thing.”

  “Oh, well…that’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” she huffed out.

  “I can see that I’m irritating you and not charming you, so I’m going to do as you ask and give you a minute to catch your breath, and then when I get back, we can start again.”

  “Thank you for listening to me. You be safe out there, and we’ll speak later.”

  “I’m your man, Brooke. Don’t forget that and let someone else in while I’m down range.”

  “You forgot to say please.”

  “Please, Brooke.”

  “Fine. I’ll keep your spot while you’re gone.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Bye, Frisco.”

  The phone call ended, and he said into dead air, “Bye, Brooke. I love you.”

  Collapsing into the chair, he hung his head and decided it could’ve gone a lot worse.

  No cancer and no breakup meant that they’d won the battle today, and he decided to be grateful instead of disappointed that she wasn’t sure about taking him on. He studied the pattern in the carpet and realized he’d been going about this all wrong. The full-frontal assault had gotten him only so far and, if he wanted to win Brooke’s heart, he was going to have to flank her and then slowly lay siege to her objections. The indirect approach was the only option, and he recited the definition that he learned his first year in the Navy. “Dislocation is the aim of strategy. Direct attacks almost never work. One must first upset the enemy’s equilibrium, fix weakness, and attack strength using the eight rules of strategy: 1) adjust your ends to your means, 2) keep your object always in mind, 3) choose the line of the least expectation, 4) exploit the line of least resistance, 5) take the line of operations which offers the most alternatives, 6) ensure both plans and dispositions are flexible, 7) do not throw your weight into an opponent while he is on guard, 8) do not renew an attack along the same lines if an attack has failed.”

  When he was done, he saw Jax standing against the doorframe shaking his head. “What?”

  “Why are you reciting offensive strategies to yourself?”

  “Because I’m mentally preparing myself to take Brooke on when we get back from the op.”

  He scrubbed his hand over his face and then gave his friend a smile. “So many questions, so little time.”

  “You’ll have all the time in the world on the way to the sandbox. Let’s head over to the briefing room and see what’s what.”

  “Roger that.”

  Frisco led the way and realized, for the first time since he joined the Navy, he had something equally as important as the mission.

  Maybe more so.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Tuesday, October 10

  Ain Assad Air Base

  Iraq

  Frisco sat in the operations center and reviewed the target package. Intel had come in reporting that Hamza was going to be in the Al Anbar Province in a rural area called Karmah tonight. He was expected to stay for only a couple of hours, which made him a time-sensitive target that might not make it through the approval process fast enough to launch.

  Which would suck, because to be this close and not have a chance would be criminal. Hearing a commotion, he saw an intelligence officer stride in with a big smile. “Good news?”

  “Looks like we’re a go for tonight’s mission, and they’ve started mission planning already.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Frisco let out a long breath and then pumped his fist in the air. To say he was surprised at the approval and quick turnaround would be a huge understatement. Checking his watch, he saw it was close to midnight and they were going to need to be wheels up within the hour to make the window. “Did you alert the men?”

  “Affirmative, sir.”

  Jumping out of his chair, he headed out to the barracks and joined the platoon as they started making preparations. The room was buzzing with energy as everyone started putting on gear, and Shane came up to him and thumped him on the back. “What’s up?”

  “Wanted you to hear from me first, I’ve been assigned ground force commander on this one.”

  “No problem, man. You’ve got the experience to make sure we succeed.”

  “I may be running as the GFC tonight, but you’ll be the assault force commander on the main target.”

  His face split into a grin. “I’ll take it.” To be leading the team designated with killing or capturing one of the most important al-Qaeda leaders was not a bad way to spend his time. “See you on the other side, brother.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Frisco watched his buddy stalk off and knew they didn’t have time to insert off the target and patrol silently in as they’d done on other air assault operations. They simply didn’t have time, and unfortunately, that would mean they had to abandon the element of surprise, and that sucked.

  Tonight’s op was going to be all about precision, and they were going to have to land directly on the objective, or on the X, as they liked to call it. Not a minute or a click to spare if they wanted to succeed.

  Jax came up, and they bumped fists. “Just got word I’m the sniper assigned to the heli-borne aerial reaction force. I’ll be overhead covering your ass this time and not leading you into the lion’s den.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  “Stay safe, man.”

  “Plan on it, ’cause I got a woman to woo, and I can’t do that if I’m dead.”

  “True that.”

  Frisco watched Jax walk back to his locker and reviewed the plan that had been put together hastily and knew the strategy was a solid one. They had traded the element of surprise for speed, violence of action, and overwhelming force. Which, if he had to bet, would work out perfectly.

  He began putting on his personal gear, and a bad feeling swept over him in waves, as though his spidey senses were trying to tell him something.

  Like he’d forgotten something important.

  Shaking his head, he started putting on his body armor, which was front and back plates that were level four and could stop multiple rounds from a 7.62 gun. Looking at his side plates, he decided to put them on as well, even though he usually didn’t when on assaults because of the added weight and restricted movement. Once they were in place, he felt his spidey senses settle and knew trading protection for freedom of movement was the right move. After all, he had someone pretty damn special at home that he had to return to.

  ***

  Coronado

  California

  The moment Brooke ended the call, she knew what she had to do. Opening her laptop, she slid into a chair at the island and started to search for flights. It was going to take her at least a day and a half to get there, and the chance of getting on a flight in the next couple of days was not great. Exhaling heavily, she started her search and hoped the gods were going to help her get to Malaba quickly.

  “Brooke, where are you?” Chance called from upstairs.

  “Kitchen,” she shouted back.

  Hearing his feet clomp across the hardwood floors, she wondered what he needed. Going back to her search, she scrolled through her options. The best one would take her through Newark airport and then to Lomé, which was the capital of Togo, after that Douala in Cameroon, and finally into N’Djamena. Thirty hours if she didn’t miss a connection. Not bad, considering how far she was going.

  “Brooke, have you seen my blue hoodie?”

  “Check the dryer.” Feeling him stand behind her, she looked up and saw his inquisitive gaze slide over the computer screen.

  “Why in the hell are you
looking up flights for N’Djamena?”

  “I got a call this morning letting me know that Malaba had a stroke, and I’ve decided to go and help her while she’s recovering.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to sign another contract with MSF?”

  “I’m not. I’m going on my own.”

  “You can’t travel through Chad on your own.”

  “I’ve made a lot of friends, and by the time I leave, I’ll have a ride to Baga Sola.”

  “You need someone with the permits to travel through the northern part of the country.”

  “Duh.”

  “I don’t like it,” he bit out with frustration.

  “Noted.”

  Exhaling heavily, he rubbed his palm against his face. “Why do you feel like you have to go?”

  “Because Malaba was very good to Piper and me when we were there, and I want to help her.”

  “What about the malaria flare-up and the parasite feasting on your organs?”

  She pushed his shoulder and let out a laugh. “That’s gross.”

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  “I’m taking the anti-malaria medication, and I finished with the prescription for the parasite, so all and all, I’d say I’m feeling a whole lot better.”

  “Which means you should stay here and fully recover before you travel again.”

  “I’ll probably only be gone a month and be home well before Thanksgiving.”

  “Anything I can say to keep you here?”

  “No, I need to do this.”

  The front door opened, and she heard Piper’s voice. “In here.”

  “Hey, kids,” Piper called out as she entered.

  “Come in and please convince my sister not to go back to Chad.” He kissed Brooke’s head and then walked toward the laundry room.

  Piper slid into a chair next to her. “Why are you going back?”

  “Malaba needs some help.”

  “And you’re the only one who can do it?”

  “No, but I want to go. Maybe it’s my way of thanking the universe for the clean bill of health I just got. It feels right, and I want to do it.”

  “I get it.” She pulled out two folders from her bag, placed them on the counter, and pressed her hands over them. “I’ve started the groundwork for the foundation that’s going to fund our mobile clinic.”

  Leaning back, Brooke clasped her hands and grinned. “Really?”

  “Yes. My attorney is putting it together, and I’m hoping by January we’ll have everything in place, so we can start putting the first one together.”

  “This is the best news.”

  Piper nodded vigorously. “I’m unbelievably excited because we can do the work we love and stay in the States.”

  “And stop at all the McDonald’s when we’re on the road.”

  “All roads do not lead to Egg McMuffins.”

  Swinging her leg, she shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Speaking of whatever, have you heard from Frisco?”

  “No, and I don’t expect to.”

  “Because you broke up with him, or because he can’t make calls?”

  “Both.” Wiping off the screen of her computer with her sleeve, she let out a breath. “We only spent a month together and really don’t know one another at all, but…”

  “He found a small corner of your heart and burrowed in like a tick.”

  Veering her eyes to her friend, she pressed her lips tight and nodded.

  “He probably used some super ninja technique that he learned in SEAL school. You know, some tactic that they use in warfare.”

  “Or my romantic soul had the IQ of an earthworm minus the capacity of self-preservation.”

  “Or that,” Piper replied quietly.

  Letting out a long-tortured sigh, she rested her head on the island. “I’m exhausting myself, and I can’t think about this anymore. Which means it’s time to get out of my head and go and do some good in the world and forget about that dirty boy who has my mind spinning in circles.”

  “I tried to get rid of him for you when he came to the hospital, but I see all it did was slow him down.”

  “Yeah, even my ending things didn’t seem to have any effect on him. He’s either the best thing in the world or a psycho. The rope is swinging both ways, and I’m not sure where it’s going to land.”

  “Well, we have that to look forward to.”

  Brooke stood and took her friend’s hand. “Come and help me pack.”

  “That I can do.”

  As they walked upstairs, Brooke thought about what Frisco had said during their last conversation and wondered how much of it he meant.

  Time would eventually tell, that was for darn sure.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Wednesday, October 11th

  Iraq

  The team had pushed hard and was ready and assembled less than two hours after the go order arrived. It was close to 0100, and two army Black Hawks arrived to carry the team to the target area, and they were flying without seats because there were about fifty men total.

  On his team, he had Bryce, Seth, Jason, Martin, and Ace. A solid group of operators that he would take anywhere in the world.

  Standing next to the bird, he and Shane watched the assault element load and then climbed aboard and sat in the doorway. Frisco strapped himself in by a lanyard so any sudden maneuvers wouldn’t pitch him overboard. Once he was secure, he looked across the tarmac and saw Josh and his assault team load into the second UH-60. They were a vital part of the mission because they were tasked with external security, and on this op, that was going to be supremely important because landing on the X required precision, speed, and supreme force. The helicopters were going to be heard for miles, and those inside the target building would know they were coming for them long before they arrived.

  The only chance they had was to get inside fast, so they told the pilot to put them down directly outside the compound’s open gate. The breacher and initial entry team sat on the left side of the door of the bird, and the pilots were going to drop them down facing the door of the main building. He and Shane were on the right side and would go in next.

  The bird roared through the desert, and he saw Karmah sprawling out in front of them, with only a few lights visible in the town. The helos stayed low, skimming the earth at max power to make it difficult for anyone on the ground to take a shot, and so far, no one had tried. Which gave them a small victory, and to be successful tonight, they had to keep stacking them up.

  The target came into sight. Their bird was leading the formation and landed first with the other flying to the left, so they could deposit the rear security team and the second assault element. Taking a long breath, he prepared himself as the pilot swung toward the compound.

  The Black Hawk’s wheels had barely touched the ground before he was out and racing toward the door with the rest of the team pouring out of the helo behind him. As they reached the door, he knew he and his men were prepared to face the maelstrom.

  Yanking the door open, he stepped forward, flashbang in hand as the rest of the team stacked up behind him. With one fluid movement, he activated it and threw it beyond the threshold. A second later, its thundering detonation shook the building.

  Bryce glided through the door in his assault crouch, and the rest of the men flowed behind him. Frisco moved in the opposite direction and braced himself for the weapons fire and bullets.

  Nothing.

  Standing in shock, he and his team stood inside a large room that was empty as the second assault team entered, swept in, and cleared the rest of the building.

  “What the fuck?” he said to himself. Tapping the button on his mic, he called Shane. “Target secure. There’s nothing here.” Looking around, Frisco cursed silently because they’d stormed a dry hole.

  Was it bad intel or were they just too late?

  The adrenaline drained away, and he and h
is assault team gathered on the main building’s front porch as the other teams cleared and searched the rest of the compound. In the courtyard, they’d found several buried weapons caches, including RPG launchers and ammo stashed in the compound’s main outer wall. The interpreter brought over some leaflets that he’d found inside and translated them. Anti-American jihadist propaganda, which was no surprise. The whole town was probably one big al-Qaeda fan club.

  As the ammunition and weapons the second assault team found began to stack up in the courtyard, they realized there was no way to carry it out. The EOD team decided to stuff it all into the trunk of a vehicle and detonate it in place.

  Shane came up and rubbed his hands together. “Good news. We’ve got movement about a hundred meters north. The AC-130 gunship circling overhead saw seven or eight men bolt from a nearby house. They ran into an overgrown thicket at the crest of a small hill and went to ground.”

  “We may have a hope of salvaging this evening after all,” Frisco said. “Let’s get those squirters and round ’em up.”

  Shane nodded. “You want to take your team and go walk these guys down?”

  “Absolutely.” He gave the order to his team, and within a minute, they were formed up and began patrolling toward the thicket. They moved north and soon were standing in front of a dense thicket that was about a hundred yards wide. He’d been in constant contact with the coms on the gunship and asked for directions. “Lead us in.”

  “Go straight; the guys are in there. At least five or six that we can tell.”

  “Roger that.” The men got in line with about five yards between them, and he gave the command to move forward. They traveled north through the thicket, and the farther they got, the denser it became, which spelled trouble because the dead leaves and branches that carpeted the ground made every step they took noisy. They might as well have a light shining down on them for all the ruckus they were making.

  Pushing a few more meters, they encountered a tangle of trees, vines, and bushes. Their night vision was completely negated, and they couldn’t see more than a couple of feet in front of them, which made Frisco have second thoughts. “Sitrep?” he asked the AC-130 crew.