Line of Fire

by Anderson, Simone

  “Williams?” Brian asked nodding to where the small group still stood.

  Hayden swore. “Give it a fucking rest. We’re in the middle of the fucking jungle, there has to be something else to occupy your mind. Christ. Dream of Alexa if nothing else. Good grief.”

  “Hot damn! I get a gold fucking star!”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Hayden whispered harshly. “It’s bad enough, I was outted. Don’t do that to him.” Hayden’s eyes narrowed at his best friend. “Not a word to anyone. Ever. Swear.”

  “Dude. All right. All right. I promise,” Brian said holding his hands up in mock surrender. “What the fuck has gotten into you?”

  “Not everyone is as understanding as you are.”

  “You’re thinking of Seiboweitz and Walters again aren’t you?”

  “You heard Seiboweitz. You were there and you can’t say it was alcohol or stress or anything else,” Hayden replied tersely. “Just because Walters’ transferred to another team, doesn’t mean Seiboweitz isn’t still fucking dangerous.”

  “No, but it would be a trip and a half if the man turned out to be gay too.”

  Hayden bit his lip to keep from laughing. As homophobic as the man was, he doubted Seiboweitz was gay. Although, he was certainly insecure about something. Hayden shook his head. It wasn’t his problem. He had other things to be concerned about. The first was being out to his teammates and the second was how he felt and where he stood with Christian. A weekend of sex and Hayden already knew there was something different, something special about Christian, he just hoped the man wouldn’t freeze him out when they returned home.

  Letting out a deep breath, he turned his attention back to the jungle. They would need to move out soon. They were still too close to the compound to be safe. Men started moving as word was passed that they were hiking to the secondary extraction point. Lieutenant Ellison issued orders and Hayden joined Brian toward the back of the group, his gaze returning to Christian at semi-regular intervals.

  Dusk turned into full night, the heat and humidity still at nearly unbearable levels, the pitch-blackness making the travel slow, even with their night vision goggles. The crews moved throughout the night taking turns carrying the litter, stopping twice. Once to readjust the ties holding the solar blanket over the wounded and nearly naked hostage and once for the young man to relieve himself. Tall trees and thick foliage hid the natural rise and fall of the landscape as well as any streams. The teams avoided the well-used footpaths, not wanting to encounter the natives, non-natives or assorted animals that use them.

  “What the hell was that?” the man in front of him asked as a screamed pierced the night.

  “A very large and probably hungry cat,” Brian whispered from behind him.

  “Yeah, a big ol’ fucking kitty cat.”

  Hayden shook his head and scanned his surroundings. The group fell silent, only the occasional whisper alerting to a particularly treacherous spot.

  Rolling his shoulders, to brush away the fatigue setting in, he was surprised to see the daylight pushing through the canopy. Carefully, he removed the night vision goggles and let his eyes get used to the increasing light. Another hour or so passed before they were given the order to halt. A large and unexpected clearing several hundred feet wide stretched out in front of them. There was enough scrub brush and tall grass to afford them cover to cross there. The tree line was several miles away to the right and left. Going around was the smartest, but getting through the jungle was taking extra time they didn’t have. Time the young man didn’t have.

  “Shit!” Christian whispered harshly next to him.

  Hayden scanned the horizon looking for anything out of the ordinary in the places that would hide more than one or two men, anything that would suggest a hidden ambush party. “I don’t see anything,” he said shaking his head.

  “Me either.”

  Scouts had returned; there were cliffs to the left. They would have to cross here. Sporadically, small groups of two and four left the cover of the jungle and began to make their way across the expanse of land. The sun had cleared the top of the canopy by the time the first group had made it three quarters of the way across the field. They moved as fast as they could, keeping the litter bearing the injured man in the middle.

  Hayden cursed as a bullet winged past him. Seconds later the distinctive, staccato tapping of an AK-47 hit the air. Bringing his weapon up, Hayden peered through the sight across searching for anything that would give away the shooter’s position. He spotted the slight movement of a branch and took aim. From behind them, someone shot into the brush where they were aiming. Hayden swore again. Gunfire erupted from both sides. They were outgunned and either they were caught in the middle of a turf war or they were being ambushed. Neither worked in their favor.

  Flattening himself to the ground, silent communication rippled through the group as the shots increased, coming closer to their hiding spot. Getting the hostage out topped their short list of priorities. The men inched their way through the grass. Each one continually checked for the whereabouts of teammates and enemy shooters.

  Dirt spit up around them, halting their progress. When the shooting failed to stop, Hayden slowly pulled his body to a low crouch. Five men would rush each side, leaving six SEALs to get the kid to safety. Hayden waited for the order to move. An eternity passed before it finally came. They belly crawled several feet before panicked shouting in Portuguese and Spanish nearly brought them to their feet. Hayden stayed low until he was within striking range.

  “Now!” The whispered shout buzzed in his ear.

  Hayden launched himself up and forward, surprising a man three feet in front of him. He fired and the armed man crumbled to the ground. He turned and another man was bringing his weapon around. In the chaotic minutes that followed, the drug lord’s men took serious casualties and the order to fall back came with the first sounds of a diesel truck approaching. Cautiously the men made their way to tree line.

  Fifty feet into the jungle, Hayden spotted Christian crouching near a tree. “What’s wrong?” Hayden asked, stopping near his lover and scanning the area. He no longer heard sounds of pursuits but didn’t want to take any chances. Radio check had confirmed everyone had made it out alive. The words used also meant they were scattered. Making it the extraction point was now everyone’s priority.

  “Fucking reopened my wound.”

  Hayden flipped the safety on his assault rifle and slung it over his back before crouching down next to Christian. “Take your shirt off and let me see it.”

  Christian nodded, shrugged off his pack and shirt, constantly retaining hold on his weapon.

  “Did more than open it. Fuck. You get hit again?” Hayden asked, removing a blood soaked bandage.

  “Not that I know of, but then I didn’t feel it the first time. Not really.”

  Hayden removed his pack and dug out his mini first aid kit. The several-inch-long gouge in Christian’s arm was approximately a half-inch wide and nearly as deep. Still, he wasn’t surprised that Christian hadn’t realized he’d been shot. From experience, he knew that it was possible that Christian wouldn’t have felt it. He dug a hole and dropped the soiled bandages into it. Inhaling a slow breath, he poured water over the wound and followed it with clean gauze pads, packing the area before adding pressure. He waited for the bleeding to stop, applied Bacitracin to the wound then taped more gauze pads over the covered area, dropping the remaining soiled components into the hole and covering it.

  “Keep it clean and that should last until we get back to civilization. Otherwise, Tyler will have to stitch it closed,” Hayden said holding onto Christian’s arm longer than was necessary.

  “Stitches are a matter of time,” Christian replied flatly.

  “True. But there could be way more complications in the middle of the Amazon jungle.” Refusing to acknowledge the niggling emotion in his chest, Hayden brushed a thumb over the skin above the bright white tape and gauze. Aware his fingers were inside th
e sleeve of Christian’s t-shirt, it still took him several heartbeats before he pulled it back.

  Christian smiled and nodded. His fingers brushing Hayden’s before dropping back to his side.

  Rocking back, Hayden stowed the first aid kit into his bag then slowly pulled himself to his feet, shrugging into the pack. He continued to scan the area as Christian dressed and slung his own pack on in silence. Checking their position against where they needed to be, they pushed through the jungle. They continued to walk through the day, crossing miles of rainforest. They hadn’t seen or heard another human the entire time and more than once they’d stopped to check their heading against the map. The GPS units worked intermittently, the signal not fully able to penetrate the canopy. A breeze filtered through the trees in the dimming light. Night descended and the lack of sleep combined with the rush of adrenaline was catching up to Hayden. He knew Christian would be fighting the same thing, but stopping wasn’t an option. Not now. Not with only two of them.

  Christian stopped suddenly in front of him. “Did you hear that?”

  Hayden froze, scanning the area, listening for anything that might be out of the ordinary. Finally, he shook his head.

  “There it is,” Christian whispered, pointing to their right.

  The sound was followed by swearing. Hayden pivoted and scanned the area and nodded. The words were in English and while the probability was that the person or persons were teammates or Americans at the very least, it was an assumption neither man was prepared to make. Hayden signaled he would go to the right, sending Christian to the left. Moving quietly, they approach the person from two sides, cutting down the chance of escape.

  Silently pushing branches out of the way, Hayden had just moments to verify who he was seeing before one of the two men turned, bringing the muzzle of his weapon to bear on Hayden.

  “Hold fire,” Hayden called out.

  “Damn man, you shouldn’t go sneaking up on people,” O’Shaunessy said shaking his head. “Good to see you.”

  Hayden laughed quietly as Christian stepped forward. The fourth man turned with Christian, allowing Hayden to make out enough features to identify the man as communications expert Neal Edwards.

  “Where is everyone else?” Christian asked, looking around.

  “Making their way towards the extraction point,” Edwards replied.

  “As far as we can figure, split into pairs and small groups,” O’Shaunessy answered.

  Hayden nodded and pulled out his map. He would have stopped for Christian even if they hadn’t shared a bed. Leaving a man behind simply wasn’t done. Several minutes later, they were making their way through the jungle.

  “How’s the arm?” Hayden asked when they stopped several hours later to ascertain where they were at in relation to the extraction point.

  Christian shrugged. “It’s still too dark to see. Worry about it once we’re home.”

  “We’re a little north of where we want to be,” Brian said folding their map. “The plus side is none of O Caudilho’s goons are following us.”

  “Good.”

  “Bad news, we’ll be cutting it close,” Brian continued looking at his watch.

  “Let’s move.”

  The hike through the jungle continued with minimal conversation and only one tense moment when they saw a large cat. Prepared to fire, they watched and waited until its attention turned elsewhere. The cry from whatever animal it had attacked echoed through the night. By mid-morning, they were three klics from their secondary extraction point at the airstrip.

  They arrived at the outskirts of the field that would double as a landing strip in the early afternoon. They were late. Not only that, it looked like part of the Brazilian army had decided to get an early start to the weeklong exercise they’d been planning. Quietly, they moved to the north end of the field, praying that others had made it out and would be there waiting to rendezvous with their ride home.

  “Arm?” Hayden asked after they’d settled into a hiding spot at the north end of the grassy strip. Brian O’Shaunessy and Neal Edwards were scouting the area looking for clues or teammates.

  “Fine.”

  Hayden raised an eyebrow. “Bullshit.” He’d seen Christian stretching and massaging the area more than once through the night. “Let’s see it.” Hayden shrugged out of his pack and pulled out his first aid kit.

  Christian sighed and shook his head, but did as he was told. Hayden pulled back the bandages and dropped the bloody gauze pads on the ground. Angry red lines had begun to creep out from the wound. Hayden brushed his fingers over the skin lightly and swore. Bending closer, he fanned the area over the gash and swore again.

  “It’s infected,” Hayden said flatly. If they didn’t get out soon, Christian’s life would be in danger.

  “Great.”

  Using some of Christian’s remaining water, he rinsed the wound before drying it, applied more antibiotic ointment and redressed it. Hayden brushed his thumb lightly over the part of Christian’s elbow before disposing of the bloodied waste. Thirty-five minutes later, two more team members arrived.

  Christian greeted Jason Morganstern warmly and Hayden pushed back the unfamiliar twinges of jealousy. He turned away from the reunion between friends and scanned the area. Acknowledging Brian and Neal’s return, he continued to scan the jungle terrain.

  “Save your strength,” Brian whispered clamping him on the shoulder, facing towards the small group. “Found the team.”

  Hayden nodded. He didn’t ask the question. He didn’t need to. Brian and Neal had found part of the team, not the rest of the team. One word. But he knew his friend well enough to know what was being said and not said. Not everyone had made it to the extraction point. This close to potential enemies, there would be a communications blackout. And there was no way to know where the rest of the team was.

  The small group joined their teammates, mentally noting who was still missing. Lieutenant Ellison ordered a perimeter watch set, while Tyler tended the wounded. The medic agreed that infection had set in, but wanted to hold off stitching it closed until they were back in civilization. Christian had the only gunshot wound so far, but one of the other guys had an animal bite and assorted scratches and lacerations.

  Hayden rolled his shoulders and turned his attention back to the large group of Brazilian soldiers milling about the grass-covered tarmac. With their laid-back posture, it would be easy to underestimate them. They needed to avoid confrontation if at all possible. The kid was now running a fever in addition to the broken legs and God only knew what else was wrong with him.

  “All in,” Brian said crouching down beside him.

  “Good.”

  “Ellison called the limo.”

  Hayden smiled and nodded.

  “Go on. Go see the boy. Everyone is getting antsy.” Brian smiled. “He’s a good SEAL.”

  “He’s a good man,” Hayden replied lowering his voice.

  “We’ve worked together before. I’ll agree that he’s a good man, but that doesn’t mean he’s a good lover or partner. Or good enough for you.”

  “I’m so not having this discussion with you. Especially not here.”

  “Someone has to look out for you. You’ve done worse.”

  “Gee thanks, dad.”

  Brian punched him lightly in the arm and sent him back to where the rest of their team gathered, talking in hushed voices. Three hours later, tensions mounted as three Russian-made Mi-24’s with the markings of the Brazilian Air Force and an American Sea Stallion approached the airfield. The Sea Stallion settled at the far end of the field, barely touching down before the door slid open and two men jumped out and motioned towards them.

  Weapons up and ready, Hayden and three others ran forward, dropping to one knee in the grass, looking for any of De Luisa’s men. Scanning the area, he watched the litter approach the helicopter. Movement at the edge of the jungle caught his attention. Bringing the Colt 727 up, he tightened his grip, took aim and pressed the trigger s
lightly. Holding his breath, he waited.

  “Fall back! Load up!” The order was shouted over the com system.

  Hayden hesitated. The movement stopped. Loosening his grip, Hayden backed up several steps before turning and running, launching himself up into the Sea Stallion.

  “Well, that was fun,” someone muttered as the helicopter lifted off.

  “You want fun, join the Marines.”

  “No, that’s easy.”

  “No, easy is the Air Force.”

  “The only easy day was yesterday,” Ellison said, his voice lifting slightly.

  Hayden laughed along with everyone else and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. It definitely beat watching television.

  Chapter Five

  Christian clenched his jaw and stalked out of the Team HQ building. Light duty. He’d expected it. He still hated it. His wound had been stitched closed, with the exception of a small drainage tube, and bandaged. His arm still throbbed where the doctor had shoved a syringe of antibiotics into him.

  Looking at his watch, he figured he had enough time to catch a game of pool and a beer down at Hell’s Dune before he needed to be home. His team had a report time of oh-six-thirty and—Christian swore. He was on light duty until the drainage tube came out of his arm and medical cleared him to return.

  Twenty minutes later he sat outside the bar, contemplating his next move. The parking lot was packed. Beer and a round of pool with the team was tradition after returning from a mission. Sometimes the mood was somber, sometimes celebratory. They’d been back for just over twenty-four hours and tonight everyone would be at Hell’s Dune. Mission successful. Friday, there would no doubt be copious amounts of alcohol flowing, but tonight it would be sedate. No one wanted to work with a hangover.