by Dale Mayer
Within seconds, four shadows surrounded her. She glanced up, startled to see Ryder and his unit. She smiled at Corey. She’d been good friends with all of Ryder’s unit in the day. But life changed for her and also for her relationships to them. Still, she was delighted to see him.
He gave her a guarded look in exchange.
Ryder put down his tray, swore and headed back to the food. She presumed he’d forgotten something.
Taking the opportunity she said, “I missed you guys.”
Corey sat down, but his gaze never left her.
“I never meant to hurt Ryder.”
Corey lifted an eyebrow. “For somebody who didn’t mean to, you sure did.”
She winced. “Yeah, well, I’m trying to fix it, but it’s a little hard, given the circumstances.” She glanced at Easton and Devlin. Both gave her half smiles, willing to be friendly, but she understood the code. She’d hurt one SEAL so she’d hurt them all. She upped the wattage of her smile. “And I hear you two have ladies.”
Devlin grinned. “Absolutely.”
Easton nodded.
Caitlyn said, “Rumor has it they’re both remarkable.”
Devlin chuckled. “Well, I’d agree with that. Mine is Bristol, a busy lady, inventing drones and all kinds of weaponry for the military.”
“Wow, that’s impressive.” She turned to Easton. “Is your lady mechanically minded or computer minded?”
The three men chuckled.
“No. Summer is the exact opposite,” Easton said with a shy grin. “She’s creative. She’s a photographer.”
“That’s nice too,” Caitlyn said with a laugh. “Sounds like you men have found exactly what you need.” She glanced at Corey. “And you?”
Corey snorted. “Hell no. After what happened to Ryder, no way.”
Her stomach sank. “More than just me or just me?”
“Just you.”
She stared at her tray full of food, and her appetite fled. “I guess I have a little bit more to make up for than I thought,” she said quietly.
“Maybe,” Devlin said, “you could start by explaining to him exactly what happened.”
Keeping her gaze down, she nodded. That was the hardest part. Especially as it had taken her months to understand it herself. But Devlin was right. It was time.
Just then Ryder returned. He sat down across from her without a word, digging into his food. He had enough meat on his plate to feed four men. But then he’d always been a huge eater. He expended tons of energy, and he was heavily muscled, so she knew his system could handle it just fine. She was a little bit jealous of how much he could consume.
Silence fell at Ryder’s arrival. He glanced up, shifting his gaze from one to the other. “Don’t stop the interesting conversation because of me.”
Heat flushed her cheeks. Caitlyn murmured, “We weren’t talking about anything specific.”
A snort came from Corey, but, outside of shooting him a glance, Ryder stayed quiet. For that she was glad. As much as she had wanted to see these men, she really wanted to heal her relationship with Ryder. She didn’t want to explain unless she and Ryder had privacy. It was all about the right moment to make this happen. So far she hadn’t seen it.
*
He hadn’t wanted to sit at the same table with her, but it seemed he was unable to stop himself. Like a moth to a flame he kept coming back to the light and got burned again and again. It made him angry, frustrated, and, at the same time, he couldn’t stop himself from seeing how she was. “How’s the injury?” he asked abruptly.
She glanced up from her plate of food and shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“You still have stitches.”
She nodded. “They’re coming out in another few days. Stitches themselves aren’t enough to stop anybody from working, as you well know,” she said with spirit.
He had to acknowledge that. They’d all been in situations where they had worked with minor injuries. But this wasn’t the same. “In your case you could’ve waited in relative safety until the stitches were out.”
“I could’ve.” She picked up her coffee and took a long sip, closing her eyes, enjoying the moment. “I don’t know if it’s just that it’s been a really long day, but this cup of coffee tastes wonderful.”
Devlin nodded. “I think they brought in a shipment of the specialty coffees by accident.”
“Lovely for us,” she said with a smile. “Every once in a while, these accidents turn out for the best.”
Easton chuckled. “More often than not we end up with dishwater. This isn’t bad.” He took a healthy sip, then stood. “Speaking of which, I could use a second.”
She watched as he walked around the many tables to the coffee. “He looks happy,” she commented.
Nobody at the table said a word.
She shrugged and finished her meal. She’d spent so much time wishing she could be with Ryder again, yet now that she was … She moved her tray off to the side and sat with both hands holding her coffee cup. She was really looking forward to getting some sleep tonight, but she had to be at the clinic at eight p.m., so sleep was a long way off.
Easton returned with a cup of coffee. In a low voice, he leaned down and said something to Ryder and Corey. The look on their faces changed, became hard. They bounded to their feet and took off.
“Is something going on?” Caitlyn asked.
“Talk of a potential attack. You need to go to your room and stay there.”
She shook her head, standing up. “I’ll head to the clinic.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m almost on shift anyway.” Without giving the men a chance to argue, she bolted.
Ryder watched her leave. He’d been ready to race out of the tent at Easton’s words, only to stop and look back at Caitlyn. She shouldn’t be alone.
While she went one way, Ryder took off the other. He’d swing around to check on her later. If she was on shift tonight, that was shitty news. But at least he’d know where to find her.
As he walked in to the meeting, the rest of his team lined up at his side. They all listened, realizing the attack looked to be an attempt to free the rebel prisoners held in the outpost’s medic facility.
“How many are injured and being held in medical?” Ryder asked.
The commander glanced down at his notes and said, “Twelve.”
Ryder gave a hard nod. “Okay, how many guards holding the men?”
The commander studied him for a long moment. “Six.”
His frown was instinctive. A two-to-one ratio was not bad as long as everybody understood what was coming.
The commander looked at him. “You don’t like those odds?”
Ryder gave a quick shake of his head. “No. I don’t.”
Devlin spoke up. “Do we know the status of the twelve injured? Are any of them their leader?”
One of the other men spoke up. “One leader is here. He took a bullet in the hip.”
“Surgery?” Easton asked.
“Bullet went right through. The doctor stitched him up, but he shouldn’t be moved.”
Ryder considered the odds. “I’d like to be assigned to medical,” he said calmly. “We need a strong presence.”
“No,” the commander said. “You and your team are to find out where the attack is coming from, how many rebels are involved. We need intel to understand what we have coming.”
Ryder wanted to argue, but he knew there was no point. Besides, that was where his skills would be best used. He had to trust the others would keep Caitlyn safe.
Within minutes the men were geared up and already sliding through the night. They were expecting an attack from the north, so the enemy couldn’t be too far out. With the comms on Silent, the four of them with another team of four on their flank raced through the darkened terrain.
Two miles out, he knew something was wrong. His comm confirmed as everyone came to the same conclusion. The attackers had either changed their approach, their timeframe or had somehow avoided them. Given th
e full moon and the lack of tracks, Ryder figured it was the first scenario.
The men split up and came back to the camp from east to west. Ryder didn’t like this one bit. It was all too possible a large force was coming, but, if the enemy had chosen a couple silent and stealthy invaders, hoping to free the prisoners and then take over medical, that was something else. It made sense as they had a dozen men there, mostly mobile. Once free the rebels had an army already in place.
In virtual darkness, silence hung heavy on the grounds, and Ryder’s gaze caught a movement to his right. He watched as one man separated from the hillside and slipped to the outpost, heading to medical. Ryder tapped his comm hard twice and pointed.
The others acknowledged what he’d seen, and Devlin sent a coded message to the outpost. One man was easy enough to take out. But how many others were out there? They waited another ten minutes. There was no sign of gunfire or disturbance of any kind. Which meant the intruder had been taken out.
Soon two more shadows separated from the trees in different directions, heading for different parts of the camp. From their profiles, it was easy to see they were heavily armed. As they reached the bottom of the hill in the distance, Ryder watched six more men separate from the far side.
His gaze turned feral.
Now he could do something. His team moved in.
Chapter 6
It was hard to still her nerves while she made sure all her patients were comfortable. The camp was on high alert, expecting the enemy to free their men held here. The guards had been doubled up inside the medical center. She had many injured rebels as patients. One man in particular had been sedated. A bullet had gone through just above his hipbone. It had missed everything major—stitches had been required, and he’d lost a lot of blood. He was holding his own, but would be transported in the morning.
She bustled around, checking everyone else. Dr. Robertson was here with her. She’d been delighted to see the extra guards in the center, but she’d hoped one of them would be Ryder. Instead, they were strangers.
Of the twelve injured rebels, most were ambulatory and under heavy guard. A couple of cracked bones, several bad burns, open wounds and, yeah, several bullet holes. Two of her own men slept in the back room, separated for ease of guarding. One had a dislocated shoulder, and the other had a bullet burn along his throat. It was nasty, and it would take some time to heal. He should be shipped to one of the main bases just out of Baghdad with a full hospital facility, but he’d argued pretty fiercely about staying here. She admired the sentiment, but, at some point, it was just foolishness.
Then Ryder’s words echoed in her head. He was as concerned since she had done the same thing.
By the time she finished checking on her patients, a sense of awareness, a readiness came over the men guarding the prisoners. A small light was on in the center of the medical tent. One of the guards blew it out.
She sat down at the desk by the doctor, and the two of them looked at each other. There was a protocol to follow. If they were attacked, they had weapons of their own. She was a good shot, but she’d never been field tested. It certainly wasn’t anything she wanted to try today either.
One guard flattened against a nearby cabinet. Then another moved to a better hiding spot along a wall. As she watched, everyone took a spot where their shadows weren’t as easily seen from outside the tent. They blended in well. Medical was large enough to sleep a half dozen but could treat a lot more in a pinch. It also held offices and medical supplies. But it wasn’t a permanent base, and, for the first time, she realized just how very little separated her from whoever was outside.
One of the guards motioned for her to go under the desk. She pulled out her own firearm, but he motioned a second time. She shrugged and sat cross-legged under the wooden structure. She wasn’t going to argue. Her heart slammed against her ribs, and she breathed through her mouth silently as she waited.
Suddenly three men burst inside. Two were immediately attacked and dropped to the floor. The third man fired randomly. One of the men at her side took a shot, then dropped to a crouch. Caitlyn crossed her arms over her head. Dr. Robertson was behind her somewhere.
Why couldn’t everybody just get along? Instead of these constant war-torn countries where a dictator was always being overthrown—terrorists trying to take over somebody else in the name of one religion or another. It seemed that, no matter how much the military did, there was just no improving this.
Gunfire ripped through the camp. Men shifted in and out of the center. Several others fell. She didn’t understand who was who as chaos reigned. And then several more men burst in, guns firing, but they were quickly taken out.
She counted six rebel bodies on the floor now. Still four shadows outside. A guard straightened, lined up a head shot and popped one through the tent material. She clapped a hand over her mouth, wanting to cry out that he didn’t even know if it was an enemy or a friend. But, when the rebel rush came the third time, it came from the front, the back and the sides. She realized that, while they’d all been watching the front, somebody had been opening the back wall, giving them access from a different angle.
Suddenly her hands were full. One guard collapsed beside her amid a flurry of gunfire. He bled from a graze across his throat. She clasped her hand over the wound to stop the bleeding. Then she saw a second bullet in his shoulder. His eyes were open, but he struggled to breathe. As he gasped for air, she whispered against his ear, “Stay quiet. Let me work on you.”
He gave her a grateful look and tried to stay still as she grabbed bandages from the cabinet beside her. She quickly slapped one against his throat. It wasn’t bad, but a few stitches would be needed to hold the tear together. Right now it was a case of holding pressure to his shoulder to stop the more major bleeding.
Gunfire rattled over her head to the side. Shouts and screams followed as though some were badly wounded. Prisoners tried to fight back.
And then suddenly the men appeared to double and then triple in numbers. All she could do was keep her head down. She didn’t know who the hell was who in the dark. A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, and Ryder’s voice was in her ear. “Are you okay?”
Shuddering at the shock of his presence, she nodded. “I’m okay.”
“Stay down,” he ordered.
With her hands still pressed against the man’s throat and shoulder, she tried to get an idea of what was happening. But as the gunfire stopped after one last bullet, she figured it was over. She just didn’t know who had won.
It took a few minutes before the power came back on. She glanced around, saw Dr. Robertson working his way through the patients and ordered several men standing guard to pick up their fallen comrades and place them on available beds. Two came to help the man she’d been working on. Dr. Robertson soon came to assist.
Once able, she did a quick search to find several of the prisoners they had treated earlier were now dead, collapsed on the floor. Six of the men who attacked them were also dead. The leader with the bullet above his hip had taken a bullet in his forehead—almost execution style.
Bodies were everywhere. She ran her fingers through her hair and pulled her hand over her face. Under her breath she said, “Jesus.” It was more prayer than profanity.
She’d seen a lot of dead, seen what people could do to each other. But still, she’d never get used to it. However, she had no time to think about that. People needed her. She did a quick triage through the downed men. One of the guards had taken a bullet through the stomach. He would be stabilized and air-lifted out now. She redirected the doctor to those who needed him most, then moved out as many of the able-bodied guards as she could, so she’d get the room back in order.
“Go, go and go. We need room to work here.” She caught sight of Ryder. “Please remove the bodies.”
Within minutes arms and legs were grabbed, and the bodies were taken away. Caitlyn didn’t know what they would do with them with the heat here. But that wasn’t her problem. Not
right now. Right now she had men bleeding, needing stitches. Men who needed splints. She had two more prisoners in rough shape with new wounds. They glared at her. She never said a word, just set about bandaging them up.
Finally when she was done, she told the prisoners, “I won’t do this a third time. The next time I’ll kill you myself.”
She turned her back on them and walked away, coming up tight against Ryder’s chest.
He grabbed her, tilted her chin up and said, “I do love this kick-ass Caitlyn. How is it so much of your personality is still a mystery to me?”
She blew a few tendrils of hair off her face and smiled. “Ha, not true. You know exactly who I am. And this Caitlyn has always been here. She only comes out when necessary.”
“Too bad the rest of you went into hiding and never explained why or what I’d done.”
Her gaze softened. “What makes you think you did anything?” She hated to think he felt guilty over what had happened. But of course he did.
“If I didn’t do anything, why the hell did you cut me out of your life?” His gaze was searching, intent on answers he needed.
She gave him a sad smile. “Not everything is as it seems.”
“Ryder?” Devon called from the main entrance. “Let’s go, man.”
Ryder dropped his arms, took a look around the bloody area and said, “Are you okay here?”
She smiled. “This is my domain. Get lost.”
He gave her a crooked grin, the same one that had always pulled at her heartstrings. She thought she’d never see it again, and it brought tears to her eyes. She watched him stride from the tent, the alpha male completely back on the hunt.
He was a damn good man. She just wished to hell he was hers.
*
He hated to leave her, but, if he understood one thing, it was doing the job. For both her and him. They couldn’t allow the enemy time to regroup.