There were a few whispers, but Jensen spoke right over them, his voice swelling until it filled the whole room. “The fate of our species hangs in the balance. And there’s no doubt in my mind each and every one of us will play an important role in the fight to save our comrades, our country, and our world.”
Goose bumps rippled across Beckham’s skin. The speech reminded him of the ones Lieutenant Colonel Clinton had given before ordering Team Ghost into the pits of hell across the world. He hadn’t trusted Jensen up until this point. Now he was ready to follow the man into war.
Beckham wedged his way next to Kate. “Sir, may I say a few words?”
“Absolutely,” Jensen replied.
“Horn and I have fought these things in Atlanta, Niantic, New York, and Fort Bragg. I’ve seen what they are capable of. They move like animals and are possessed with one purpose: to kill. I’ve watched them turn on each other, and I’ve watched them organize. They are unpredictable and extremely dangerous.” Beckham raised a battered brow as he scanned the skeptical sea of faces. “These are not sick human beings. They are not zombies. These are deadly predators. And they will kill you without a single thought.”
“I hope you all heard Master Sergeant Beckham,” Jensen cut in. “He’s the only one of us to lead a team against the Variant threat. You can see he’s come back alive, if not a bit worse for wear.”
Beckham saw the look in Kate’s eyes and knew that she wanted to protest, but he had a job to do. He knew that she understood that, too.
“I’m on board, sir,” Beckham said to Jensen.
“Me too,” Horn said, patting Beckham on the back.
“I’m in,” Jinx said.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Chow added.
One by one, confident voices called out, each warrior stepping up to support Operation Liberty. But deep down Beckham knew they were volunteering for a mission that they had little hope of winning.
That night, while the rest of the base was prepping for war, Beckham snuck through the personnel quarters wing of Building 1. Getting past the guards was the easy part. They didn’t ask questions when they saw his rank. His business was none of their concern, and the men let him pass with simple nods.
He moved from door to door, searching for Kate’s room. Halfway down the hall, a woman stepped out of the restroom in a towel, her hair wrapped up in a glistening black bun. They nearly collided.
“I’m sorry,” Beckham said. She shied away, clearly terrified. He’d been so focused on finding Kate that he’d forgotten his injuries. He probably looked like Rocky Balboa after fifteen rounds with Apollo Creed.
“Um, excuse me. What exactly are you doing here? This is for science officers and support staff,” the woman said.
Beckham felt his cheeks flare. “I’m looking for Kate. Dr. Lovato.”
The woman angled her eyes down the hallway. “She’s in room fifteen.” She caught a glimpse of the color rising in his cheeks and then smiled. Giving him a once-over, she chuckled and continued down the opposite corridor.
Embarrassed, Beckham let out an exasperated sigh. He wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing. Sneaking in to see Kate had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure. The chemistry he shared with her was undeniable. But maybe this was all wrong; maybe they should stay friends.
Go with your gut, he thought, eyeing the numbers on the doors. His gut said yes.
He found her door and raised a battered hand. He wasn’t even sure if she would be there, considering she pretty much lived in the lab, but a few seconds later the door creaked open and Kate peeked out.
“Reed? What are you doing here?”
Beckham couldn’t see her face in the darkness. But there was something about her tone, a trace of nervousness. Apprehension.
Fuck, he thought, maybe he shouldn’t have shown up like this. He looked terrible.
“Reed?” Kate asked again. She stepped into the hallway in a pair of exercise shorts and a small white tee.
Beckham took a sidelong glance to ensure the woman in the towel wasn’t eavesdropping. He considered making up an excuse, some pretense of official business, but came up with nothing. “Thought I would…um…”
Kate’s mouth quirked in a half smile. The banks of LEDs in the panels above spread a soft glow on her olive skin. Without thinking he reached forward and pulled her chin toward his, kissing her softly. A small moan escaped her lips when he pulled away.
And then she dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind them.
They kissed on their way to her bed, tossing clothes on the floor before crashing on the small twin mattress. Beckham ignored the pain shooting through his ribs. He didn’t care. All that mattered now was Kate.
She ran her finger in a circular motion around a bruise on his chest, kissing the tender skin. Her muscular legs confirmed she didn’t spend all of her time in the lab. She had told him she was a runner, but he never imagined that her lab coat covered such a gorgeous body. She was slender and fit, but also had natural curves. His eyes slid along those curves, savoring every inch of her.
“You’re beautiful,” Beckham whispered. “No…You’re gorgeous.”
Kate didn’t shy away from his gaze. Confidence radiated from her blue eyes—eyes that scanned him with the same intensity as his own.
“I don’t know what the future holds, Kate, but I want you to know that—”
She put a finger on his lips. “You don’t need to say anything.”
Staring down at her, he realized how long he’d gone without the touch of a woman. Team Ghost spent the better part of the last year in Afghanistan. Yet he wasn’t nervous. He burned with desire, but he also felt calm, at peace, as if he’d found a quiet place at the center of a raging storm. His lips found her collarbone and then her breasts, sending Kate’s body arching in pleasure. Maneuvering on the narrow mattress was hell, but he managed to blaze a trail of kisses along her taut stomach. He paused, looking up into her eyes, questioning one last time.
“I want you,” she said. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. Wrapping her arms around his muscular triceps, she pulled him to her. For hours they lost themselves in each other, their sweaty bodies moving under the radiant moonlight. Nothing else mattered, Thoughts of broken promises and the post-apocalyptic world that surrounded Plum Island were forgotten. His pulse raced as adrenaline flooded his system. He made love the way he fought, with an all-consuming passion.
His movements became more powerful, faster and intense. Kate wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper. Her moans grew louder. Beckham buried his face in her hair and kissed her neck. Their bodies shook and trembled, and Beckham locked eyes with Kate. He had never had time for love in the past. Women had come and gone, but his promise to protect his men and his country had always been his top priority. It was funny how the end of the world changed a person. Looking down at Kate, he made another promise.
“When this is all over, I will come back for you.”
She looked toward the window, gasping for breath. “You don’t have to go.”
Beckham slid his body off hers and rolled on his side, propping his head up with a hand. “I do, Kate. You know I have to.”
“I know,” Kate said, resting her head on his chest. “But I’m going to hold you to that promise. And if you break it, I’m coming after you.”
Beckham smiled. “Good,” he said. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from Dr. Kate Lovato.”
-12-
A small crowd of military and civilian personnel gathered at the edge of the tarmac. Beckham nudged his way through the group, stopping when he heard someone calling his name. Throwing the strap of his pack farther over his right shoulder, he twisted to see Fitz. Beckham smiled.
“Hey, Fitz, how are you holding up?”
“I’m great. But I’d be better if you let me join your team. I want to help.”
The weight of Beckham’s bag suddenly felt much heavier. He wasn’t prepared for
the request, but when he saw Kate and Riley standing on the sidelines, he knew exactly how to respond.
“We need you here. With so many of us going to New York, the base is going to be vulnerable. Lieutenant Colonel Jensen could use a sharpshooter on one of those towers,” he said, pointing.
Fitz nodded and flung a glance over his shoulder. Grinning, he extended a hand. “Good luck, Beckham.”
“Keep everyone here safe,” Beckham said.
“Will do,” Fitz said with confidence.
Crew chiefs and engineers crowded around the four Black Hawks, making last minute adjustments and checks. A crewman loaded one of the door guns on Echo 3. It was the same bird that had extracted him from Fort Bragg. Beckham knew the threat in New York was greater than any these men had ever faced before. Fear prickled along his spine at the thought of it.
Horn, Jinx, and Chow were camped out past the chopper. Ryan and Timbo, two of the Rangers from Bragg, stood a few feet away. The men performed their final gear and ammo checks. Beckham exhaled slowly as a sense of approval settled into his chest. The new Team Ghost was ready.
“Sup,” Horn said as Beckham approached.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Horn finished looking through the scope of his M27 and then gave Beckham a full once-over. “What the hell, bro? Were you up all night or something?”
Jinx chuckled. “Bet the good doctor was giving him a last minute physical,” he said.
“Watch it,” Horn snorted.
Chow stood glaring a few feet away, his head shaking slowly at Jinx.
“Sorry,” Jinx said. He swung the rifle strap over his shoulder and stuffed another magazine into his overloaded vest.
“You good, Boss?” Horn said in a voice only they could hear. He reached down to pull the skull bandana up around his neck and tightened the knot. Then he put a hand on Beckham’s shoulder.
Beckham nodded and looked him in the eye. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you, Big Horn.”
He exhaled a long breath. “This has to be done,” Horn said. “We need to take back New York.”
A final nod and the two men returned to their preparations.
“Grab all the ammunition you can,” Chow said. “I don’t know if Dr. Lovato is right or not, but if she is, then we’re going to need every round we can carry.”
Beckham had picked up an extra 10mm and strapped it to his leg. “Listen up,” he said. “You guys already know the drill, but I have a few more details.”
Beckham crouched and pulled a map from a pocket in his vest. Spreading it out on the concrete, he pointed toward a solid red blotch covering several blocks in Manhattan, just east of Times Square. “This is where we rendezvous with the mission commander, Lieutenant Gates, and 1st Platoon. The others are being deployed to the other four boroughs.”
“So once we hit the LZ, we’re pretty much on our own?” Horn asked.
“Afraid so. We’re meeting the Marines here at Pier 86,” Beckham said, pointing at the map. “That’s where the armor is being dropped.” He ran his finger away from the dock. “We follow 1st Platoon to the main target area, here.”
“Rockefeller Center?” Chow asked.
“Looks like there’s several subway stations in that area,” Horn said.
“The Variants could be using the abandoned tunnels,” Chow said. “Just like we did at Fort Bragg. That one bunch followed us in, remember?”
Timbo leaned over the map, his massive shadow covering the pages. In a gruff voice he said, “So we’re clearing each city block and wiping out the main cluster of Variants and then setting up an FOB?”
“That’s the plan,” Beckham replied.
“What about infected? Is it possible we’ll encounter anyone with the Hemorrhage Virus?” Ryan asked.
“Central has assured us that the virus has burned out in New York. They dropped VariantX9H9 in the area without mercy. Not a single infected has been spotted since then.”
“What’s Dr. Lovato say?” Horn asked.
Beckham stood and crossed his arms. “She said that the chance of infection is highly unlikely. The biggest threat, obviously, is the missing Variant population.” He paused to feel his right eyelid. The swelling was finally down, but it had left an ugly shiner. It was a wonder Kate had even wanted to touch him. He pushed any thoughts of Kate aside, knowing there was no room to relive the memory of last night in his mind during this mission. He had to remain vigilant, focused on Operation Liberty and on keeping his men alive.
“Look,” Beckham said. “I don’t like this anymore than you guys do. Those things could be hiding anywhere. Or, if we’re all really lucky, like win-the-fucking-lottery lucky, maybe Kate is wrong. Either way, we have a job to do. The Air Force is going to soften the area before we move in to clean up the mess. They’ll be on standby if we run into any problems. I’ve been told the flyboys still have plenty of bombs.”
“That’s reassuring,” Horn grunted. He tilted his head, his neck cracking audibly.
“Any other questions?” Beckham asked. He looked at his team in turn. Everyone in the group had seen action. They all knew what came next.
“All right. Once you finish your gear prep, say your goodbyes.” Beckham folded the map and put it back into his vest. He dug inside and pulled out a copy of the picture of his mom. The original picture had been snapped thirty years ago in Rocky Mountain National Park, long before the cancer had reduced her to a skeleton. She stood on a peak overlooking a lush valley with her arms wrapped around Beckham. Her curly black hair blew slightly in the wind and she wore a smile of pure joy.
“She looks so happy,” Horn said. Beckham was so engrossed in the image he hadn’t felt the man’s presence.
“Yup, and look at me. I look annoyed.”
“You were a kid. No one likes their picture taken with their parents at that age.”
“How are the girls doing?” Beckham asked.
Horn shrugged. “They miss their mother and they don’t want me to go.”
“Maybe you should—” Beckham began to say when Horn punched him softly in the shoulder.
“We just went through this, Boss. I’m with you.”
Beckham knew better than to argue with his friend. The man was here, and that was enough for him. “I told Kate and Riley to look after the girls. Fitz is going to keep an extra set of eyes on them, too.”
“Thanks,” Horn said.
Beckham scanned the crowd. Riley sat in his wheelchair, his hands in his lap. The kid wasn’t used to sitting on the sidelines, but this time he had no choice. Kate stood behind him, with Jenny and Tasha at her side. The girls waved when they saw their father looking.
Beckham turned to focus on the men new to his team. Ryan was an entire head shorter than Timbo, with dark olive skin and a large nose and thick Italian accent. The man jammed a magazine into his MK11 and scoped the skyline. Timbo strapped a pair of grenades to his vest and tightened his flak jacket. Unlike the armor the operators wore, the Rangers had ceramic armor. It wasn’t as advanced as the high-density polymer and plastic beneath Beckham’s vest, but it had saved countless lives.
Lastly, Beckham examined both Rangers for signs of anxiety. Not that he would blame them if they were nervous, but he needed to make sure they were good to go. He had been part of joint missions before and typically knew the men under his command. Both Rangers had performed well at Bragg, but New York was going to be much different.
“Fifteen minutes!” shouted a voice across the tarmac. Major Smith and Lieutenant Colonel Jensen walked around the teams, overlooking the last preparations.
“Better say goodbye,” Horn muttered. He jerked his chin toward the crowd, and Beckham followed him away from the birds. Riley, Kate, and the girls watched from behind one of the concrete barriers. Both men hopped over the block and Horn took a knee in front of Tasha and Jenny. Horn yanked his skull mask down and then pulled both girls against his armor, wrapping his arms around them.
“I’ll be back in a few
days,” he assured them.
“Promise?” Tasha asked, pulling her head away from his chest.
Horn nodded.
Tasha looked at Beckham and said, “You promise to take care of my dad?”
Beckham put a hand on Horn’s shoulder. “I promise. I owe him one.”
Tasha smiled. “He saved your butt.”
Riley chuckled. “Not the first time!”
Leaving Horn to tend to his children, Beckham walked over to Kate. Her lips moved, but she didn’t speak. They’d already said their goodbyes earlier in the morning. She wrapped her arms around him as best as she could, hindered by the armor and ammunition. “I’ll be okay, Kate,” he said.
“You’d better.”
With Kate pressed up against his chest, he looked over at Riley. “You take care of these girls. You hear me?”
“No problem, Boss,” Riley replied.
“Good luck,” Kate whispered. She pulled away and searched his eyes.
“We’ll be back before you know it,” Beckham said, forcing a smile. He waved and then tilted his chin toward the choppers. Horn said his final goodbyes, and then they climbed into Echo 3, leaving their loved ones behind.
The thump of helicopter blades had faded by the time Kate looked away from the clear sky. She’d secretly hoped Beckham would stay behind, that his injuries would have excused him from Operation Liberty, but she knew the man well enough now to know that staying behind had never been an option. The dread in Riley’s face from watching his brothers fly away without him reminded her these men were warriors. They had a job to do. A duty. Asking him to step away from a mission was just like asking her to stay away from the lab.
The endless blue sky stretched as far as she could see, infinite and empty. Somewhere on the other side of the ocean, Kate’s parents might be looking up at the same sky. She felt a tug on her sleeve and looked down into Tasha’s wide, curious eyes.
Extinction Edge (The Extinction Cycle Book 2) Page 14