Her Treasured SEAL

by Caitlyn O'Leary

  “I’ve got dinner, you nap.”

  “I’m not tired,” Karen insisted.

  “I mean this in the nicest, most respectful way,” Piper said as she jostled her nephew on her shoulder. “You look like crap on a cracker. Go to sleep.”

  Karen stared at Piper in surprise. The girl she’d met two years ago would never had said that to her. But then again, now they were family, what was more, she probably did look like shit. “Okay, I’ll take a quick nap, but wake me in a half hour, okay?”

  “I hear you,” Piper said.

  KAREN WOKE WITH A START. She didn’t hear a sound. Her heart started beating a million miles a minute. Where was Andrew? Why wasn’t he coughing? What time was it? She threw back the covers and vaulted out of bed. It was ten o’clock at night, three hours since she had gone to sleep. She ran down the darkened hallway to Piper’s room. It was empty. When she skidded into the living room she tripped over one of the boxes she’d packed, and she went flying into the arm of the couch, rolling sideways and then slamming her head into the corner of the coffee table. She couldn’t breathe, nor could she move for long moments. The pain in her head was intense.

  But worse than the ache in her head, was not knowing where Andrew was. She started calling out Piper’s name. No answer.

  She pushed herself up from the floor, tenderly touching the back of her head, she could already feel the bump forming. She aimed for the hallway, but almost crashed into the wall. Righting herself, she did her best to head toward her room, where her cell phone was. She needed to find Piper. As she passed the bathroom in the hallway she saw the light on underneath the door and heard the water running, she pushed the door open. The room was steamy, and Piper was holding a quiet and smiling Andrew in her arms.

  “I did an internet search. Google said steam would help his cough.”

  Karen sagged against the doorframe gasping for breath.

  “Steam’s good,” Karen whispered as she took one step into the bathroom. It was all she could manage as she slipped down the side of the wall.

  “Karen?”

  Piper’s voice came from a long way away.

  “Karen, answer me, right this minute.”

  She sounded bossy like Drake did.

  Andrew was coughing again, but then she didn’t hear him. Where’d they go? She thought she heard Piper yelling. Who was she yelling at? It didn’t matter. It felt good in the warm bathroom. She just needed to rest here for a while. But her head hurt. A lot. Maybe if she just got down on the floor. Oh, she was on the floor. Maybe she needed to curl up. She pulled her knees up to her tummy, and curling her arms around her aching head. Yeah, that was better.

  “Oh God, she’s in the fetal position. Come quick!”

  “Who ya talkin’ too?” Was that her slurred voice?

  “Honey, just rest, the ambulance will be here any minute,” Piper said. She heard Andrew coughing.

  She really hurt. It reminded her of being in the delivery room. She wanted Drake. Drake would make it better if he were here.

  IT WAS THREE O’CLOCK in the morning, the best time for an attack. This time the guards were awake and alert, not that it mattered. They were dispatched quickly by Dalton Sullivan of Black Dawn and Dare. Then Finn, Jack, and Hunter took position up in trees, while the rest of the teams headed into the encampment.

  Many of the girls were tied by their necks to a tree. A few were stuck in pallets on the ground with one terrorist or another. Drake forced himself not to think about it and instead focus on the mission.

  Almost everyone in the camp was asleep, which would make the op easy. Stealth was the SEALs bread and butter. Mason took point as the leader, and he indicated that the men who slept solo were the first ones who needed to be quietly killed. There were seven. If anyone raised the alarm, that’s when the snipers would be deployed.

  Drake had just finished his target, when he heard a girl scream.

  Fuck!

  A shot rang out at the same time he felt a bug bite his arm. It was a big bug.

  Shit, fuck, piss, he’d been shot again. He hated getting shot.

  He hunkered down and took aim at his next target, but it was too late, one of the sniper’s got him before he had a chance. Where was the fun in that?

  To his left a girl started screaming and crying. He saw a man with a gun to her chin. It was pressed in deep. The guy was wild-eyed, his finger was close to pulling. Drake stood up and waved his arms. “Don’t shoot,” he warned his team members.

  He heard crying around him. There hadn’t been that many Boko Haram in the camp, he had to assume his team had taken the rest out, and this was the last bastard left. The man started babbling in French. Where was Aiden?

  “He wants us to let him go on one of the trucks,” Aiden said from behind him.

  “Fine,” Mason said. “Promise it to him. We’ll get a shot by then. Got it men?”

  All snipers answered in the affirmative.

  As Aiden and Mason arranged for the soon-to-be dead man’s truck, Drake turned his attention to the girls who had all huddled together near the tree.

  “Parlais vous Anglais?” Wyatt asked. The crying just got worse. Wyatt kept at it.

  “Put a sock in it Leeds,” Gray commanded.

  Gray crouched down in front of one of the girls who was already trying to undo the rope around her neck and started talking soothingly to her. His blond and gray hair glinted in the early morning light. She stared at it. He pulled out his knife and she shrank back.

  A shot rang out, and a girl screamed.

  “Goddammit.” Gray muttered. They all waited long moments, and finally a girl, covered in blood, walked over with Aiden.

  “Thank God, you can talk to them in French,” Gray said. “Tell them we want to cut the ropes off them.”

  Aiden nodded and started talking in French. Girls started speaking all at once, until he let out a long whistle. Drake might not understand French, but he knew the next words out of Aiden’s mouth were, “One at a time.” Aiden held up his knife. A girl held up her hand. He waded through the throng and got to her. He cut off the rope tethering her to the tree, then once again they all started shouting at the same time. That was their signal to start cutting them loose.

  Drake assessed them and instead of helping, he went out to the camp and found what blankets he could and started cutting them up so that he had some wraps for the girls who were missing clothes. He needed to do this for his own peace of mind or he would start cutting up the corpses of the men into tiny little bits.

  What kind of animals had these men been? They were just young girls.

  When he started handing out bits of blankets, he was met with pathetic amounts of gratitude.

  He saw Clint standing off to the side and double timed it over to him. “So what’s the good word?”

  “We’re about forty kilometers from their orphanage. Parts of it was burned but there’s an international outcry for the safe return of the girls, so that’s good. People are helping to get it set to rights.”

  “Are people going to meet up with us to bring them back?”

  “That’s the plan. Probably five miles out there’s a good road, and there’ll be trucks to bring them back to their town.”

  “Will they have the facilities to help them?” Drake asked as he looked at the girls. He could see some of them already had the hundred-yard stare that was normally reserved for men who had seen too much combat.

  Clint looked at him with compassion. “Drake, I know that trust comes hard to you, but we did our part, we have to assume that the civilians will do their part.”

  “Have you called Hunter?”

  “Yeah, he’s on his way. He’s says that Isobel is doing better, she can walk if some of the others need to be carried.”

  “Yeah, they’ll need to be carried.” This time Drake assessed Clint. Clint saw it.

  “I’m going to be fine. Lydia’s good, so I’m good.”

  “Well, if anybody is capable of carr
ying females through the jungle, it’s you.” Drake attempted to tease, but it fell flat.

  “Fuck you, Avery,” Clint said with a half grin.

  “Just saying.”

  AFTER FIVE CLICKS, Mason and Gray called a halt to the happy little hike. Elise looked like she was ready to fall over. She had actually carried one of the other girls on her back from time to time. Drake was continually amazed by her fortitude.

  The girls that could, were carrying the supplies that they had foraged from the camp. Hunter worked with some of the older girls to get everybody fed. This helped to keep morale up by giving them something to do. But still, there was a lot of crying.

  Elise came over to where Drake was sitting. “You are big,” she said in halting English.

  “Oui,” Drake said yes in French. Elise clapped her hands in delight then started quickly speaking torrents of French.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I can’t understand. I can say oui and merci. That’s it,” Drake explained.

  “You are big man.”

  “I got that.” He smiled.

  “You are hurt,” she pointed to the bandage on his bicep. Last thing he needed was an infection in the jungle, but still it was nothing.

  “It doesn’t hurt.”

  “You save us.”

  “My team did.”

  “We go home. Reverend Mother, she hurt too.”

  “Did the men hurt her?”

  Elise nodded.

  The animals.

  “They kill Father Thomas. Isobel talk me.” Elise’s eyes filled with tears.

  Damn.

  Drake kept his words simple. “There will be many more people at the orphanage. They will help.” He looked at the other girls. One was in really bad shape. Aiden and Finn were doing everything they could to get her the care she needed. Aiden had carried her all day.

  “Far time?”

  Drake looked at Elise and tried to think what she was asking. “I don’t understand.”

  “Many mornings?”

  He finally got it. He held up three fingers. “Three mornings.”

  She nodded. He put his palms together and put them under his tilted head and made a snoring sound. She giggled. “Sleep now,” he said. She got up and joined the other girls.

  “She’s a kick,” Dare said as he sat down next to Drake.

  “I don’t know how the hell she’s keeping it together.”

  “Charlotte would too,” Dare said referring to the teenage girl he was helping to raise. “Hell, so would your sisters.”

  “At least until the crisis was over with,” Drake said softly. He thought about his sister, Chloe.

  “But then someone will be there to help them. Right?”

  Drake thought about it, and knew that Dare was correct. Chloe was now happy and healthy. With the right help these girls could be as well.

  “I’m going to take the first watch,” Drake said as he stood up.

  IT WAS A SOMBER GROUP that reached the trucks three days later. The girl who had been so badly injured had died the day before. When they arrived in Amoto the girls were swarmed by villagers, aid workers, and members of the international press.

  Drake watched as Hunter and Aiden both took time to hug and reassure Elise. Boy, that girl had wormed her way into everyone’s heart, but there was just no real time for protracted good-byes, they had to get the hell out of there.

  As they were taking the last of the injured girls into the clinic, Mason and Drake’s pictures were taken. The photographer had run away as soon as he had done it and disappeared into the crowd of reporters. Mason was pissed. Hopefully with all the dirt, sweat, and beards they’d be unrecognizable. As soon as it happened, Gray confiscated an empty truck and got the two SEAL teams the hell out of town.

  “Clint. Dex. What’s the ETA on the choppers? Where are they landing?” Gray yelled over his shoulder as he drove down the dirt road.

  “They’ll be here in less than an hour. Keep going down this road for another two kilometers.”

  Drake was relieved to see nobody was following them. Thank God, the story was the girl’s return. They ended up waiting for almost an hour by the time they heard the choppers. Mason was motionless after they got strapped in.

  “It’s going to be okay.” Drake smiled. “We look like the guys on Duck Dynasty.”

  Mason didn’t crack a smile, instead he turned to Clint. “Radio it in. I know it’s the middle of the night back home, tell whoever is on duty that we need to talk to Captain Hale when we can.”

  “Drake’s right. You two are going to be hard to recognize,” Clint assured him.

  “We’re white. We’re in fatigues. Everybody is going to assume we’re Americans. We have a fucking problem,” Mason bit out.

  Clint took a deep breath and went up to the front of the helicopter to the communications center.

  “Mase―”

  “Drake, I don’t want to hear it.”

  Drake looked over at Finn who gave a small shake of his head. Mason was right. This was probably going to go viral. They were supposed to stay under the radar. What was more, their mission had been to take out the weapons dealers, not save the orphans. That had been outside their purview. God knows how the suits were going to react.

  Clint came back and strapped himself in. “They said he’ll be available by the time we reach the Margaret Ekpo Airport.”

  Mason gave a sharp nod.

  Drake hoped it wasn’t going to be as bad as Mason thought.

  SHEILA MET THEM AS soon as they arrived. Her grim look said it all.

  “I take it we’ve made the news already?” Gray said.

  “Not you,” she said. She pointed at Drake and at Mason. “Him and him. Clear as day. The Associated Press is already trying to figure out if it is Delta Force or Navy SEALs.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair to the Green Berets, now does it?” Wyatt said.

  “What he said,” Drake agreed.

  “What did I say on the chopper, Avery?” Mason growled.

  Shit, Mason was well and truly pissed. As a matter of fact, Drake could never remember him being this angry. Drake breathed deeply. He knew the real issue, and he hadn’t wanted to think about it. It was the facial recognition software that was out there. Mason’s eyes glittered as he stared at him. Drake nodded. Yep, this wasn’t good.

  “Let’s see the pics, Sheila.” Mason held out his hand. She handed over her cell phone. Drake leaned over to look.

  “Well, it could have been worse,” Mason said resignedly. “Has Captain Hale called?”

  “Twice,” she answered. “You can take it in private. Well, the two of you can,” she said looking at Gray Tyler. The two men followed her to the small office that butted up to the conference room.

  Clint, Dare, Finn, and Jack, all gathered around Drake. Sheila had left her cell phone with him.

  “You don’t look like the Duck Dynasty dude, you look like bigfoot,” Clint joked.

  “Nah, bigfoot’s more handsome,” Dare said patting Drake on the back.

  They were right. The problem was going to be that Americans were where they weren’t supposed to be.

  “Drake, come in here.”

  Ah fuck. Obviously, he’d thought he was in the clear too soon. He turned and saw Mason staring at him, but he wasn’t looking as mad as he had been. He looked really concerned. Now what? Drake went into the office as Gray and Sheila exited.

  “Yeah?”

  “Andrew and Karen are fine. But Karen’s had a setback. Nothing serious.”

  Drake stared at Mason. He knew his friend backward and forward. Mason wouldn’t lie to him. Andrew and Karen were alive and safe. That was what was important. His boy. His woman. They were safe.

  “What happened?”

  “Karen’s in the hospital. She’s supposed to be discharged in a day or two, so everything’s good.”

  His knees turned to water. Karen was in the hospital?

  “You with me big guy?” Mason had his hand on his should
er.

  He needed to be home now. Now. Now. Now!

  “Drake, talk to me.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Mason opened the door to the tiny office. “Need an ETA on a plane home. Now!”

  Drake stared at the piss green paint on the wall and waited for the answer, imagining the worst. All he could see was Karen white as a sheet the way she’d been in the delivery room. Please God, don’t take her away from me. He shut his eyes. Mason wouldn’t lie. But the suits might.

  His eyes darted to Mason, then they shot to the door as Dex came in.

  “There’s a plane heading home in four hours,” Dex said.

  “Make it sooner. I don’t care what you have to do, we need Drake on a plane home in the next half hour, got it?” Mason said grimly.

  Drake turned back to study the wall. Now he took note of all the places the paint was peeling, saying prayers in his head at the same time.

  Drake waited.

  “Captain Hale would give it to us straight,” Mason said quietly. Once again, he’d read Drake’s mind.

  “Did you call Sophia?” Drake asked, turning around to look at his friend.

  “The circuits are busy. Aiden’s trying to get ahold of Evie with the satellite phone.” Drake nodded. He knew they’d tell him if they knew something. Anything. Knowing Evie was with Karen gave him some comfort. Piper too. But Evie...

  “Mase? Do you think Captain Hale will approve a first-class ticket?” Clint asked as he rushed into the little room.

  “Fuck yeah,” Mason said decisively.

  “Good, because I’ve already booked him a seat,” Clint said. “Now we’ve got thirty minutes to get him on the plane.” Clint turned to Drake. “Let’s get you cleaned up a little so you don’t scare the civilians.”

  Like Drake gave a shit, the only thing that mattered was getting home to Karen. He should have never left her. He should have never left.

  Chapter Eight

  IT WAS LIKE SHE WAS under water. She couldn’t make her eyes open. She swore she could hear Andrew crying, but she couldn’t get to him.