Her Special Forces

by Sophia Roslyn

  Kacey took a firm line. “Yo, Geerling, front and center.”

  No response, not even an eye blink.

  She knee-walked about a foot closer. His left leg twitched, but nothing else moved. With her gaze glued to his finger on the rifle trigger, she tried another approach. “Jeffrey, hey baby, whatcha doin’?”

  Still no response. Okay, so much for that.

  “Guys, any rounds left in the rifle?”

  Barracuda responded in the same quiet voice. “Unknown, Captain. But let’s assume a full magazine minus one round, two rounds at the most.”

  “Okay, then we can also assume there’s a full mag in the Sig.”

  “Probably, or his current action would be pointless.” That, from Nathan.

  She shuffled backward until she was clear of Jeffrey by a few feet, which disturbed the dark mulch, filling her nostrils with the damp odor of leaf decay. Fuck, my knees are gonna be shredded. Ah, well, can’t be helped.

  Her voice was still soft, low-key, totally nonconfrontational. “Can you do what’s necessary without causing damage?” Jeffrey might be listening, might not—she didn’t want to interfere with any plan the two guys could have.

  Glancing at both men, she watched their silent communication, honed by too many years of working together, too many years of covering each other’s asses. Finally, each signaled the other with single half-nods.

  Even though she knew they were going to move, the two SEALs were on their teammate so quickly her body jerked anyway. Jeffrey was rendered helpless in half a heartbeat. Almost helpless. Nathan knocked the Sig up and away; the handgun discharged into the tree canopy.

  Fuck, he really did have his finger on the trigger!

  At the same instant Nathan dealt with the Sig, Barracuda dove onto Jeffrey’s lap, pinning the man’s hand against the assault rifle. The M4A1 fired, the round skimming bare inches above the ground before it lodged in a tree trunk with an explosion of wood debris. Barracuda had raised his chest and turned his face, kept himself out of harm’s way. He got to his feet, brought the rifle with him.

  The tormented scream that poured from Jeffrey shocked them all. He hadn’t moved from his position, but his arms had dropped, his hands limp, knuckles on the ground. Pumping adrenaline masked her pain as Kacey dropped to the ground, crawled to the SEAL, pulled him into her arms. She rocked him as the scream continued. Nathan and Barracuda stepped toward her and Jeffrey, but she waved them away.

  “No, don’t touch him. I have this.”

  His body stiff, Jeffrey began to rock harder, took another deep breath to fuel the continuing scream. Kacey held him tighter, shushed him, whispered words with no meaning, placed the side of her face against his, kissed his cheek over and over—not as a lover might, but as a mother would quiet a hysterical child. Hush, baby, hush. Don’t do this. Don’t let them see.

  “Can someone get me a blanket or a jacket?”

  Barracuda headed for the SUV.

  Nathan secured both weapons. “Let’s get him on his feet. We’ll bring him to the house.”

  “No, not yet. Not yet.”

  Barracuda returned with a folded first-aid blanket.

  “Marcus, wrap us both. Just please move slowly.”

  Barracuda did as he was told. “I agree with Nathan. Let’s get him to the house, call Jonah.”

  “Okay, call Jonah and tell him to get back here, ASAP, but I don’t want to try to move Jeffrey, not just yet.”

  The screaming finally subsided, but only because Jeffrey’s voice gave out. His mouth was still open, but only croaks came forth.

  “You guys don’t need to stand there and gawk at the poor guy. Why don’t you sit in the truck? Leave me a phone or radio.”

  My God, is this what’s going to happen to me? Am I going to flip out and lose it? With a weapon? Maybe take myself out? Maybe take someone else out?

  Nathan’s head shake was repeated by Barracuda’s, then both men took a step forward.

  Jeffrey’s body tensed.

  Kacey held a hand up. “No! Dammit, stop right there. Look, he’s unarmed, and he’s not going to hurt me.” Her own body had begun to tremble, and she didn’t want them to see her come undone. “If you want to help, stay close by.”

  “Kace—”

  Her frustration spiraled into a growl, and it wasn’t pretty. “Nathan, Marcus, goddamn it, will you just go, and let me sort this out?”

  She couldn’t move her head to see Nathan’s expression, nor did she wish it. The tension in the air made his reaction obvious. Nathan, ol’ buddy, you can’t fix this. You can’t fix either of us.

  “Kace, I don’t know what your deal is, but we’ll be within shouting distance.”

  Deal? What fucking deal? This isn’t any deal. “Yeah, fine, whatever, got it. Shouting distance. Just go.” If Nathan insisted on being so pig-headed, maybe she shouldn’t be in such a hurry to go for the let’s-kiss-and-make-up game.

  Jeffrey had stopped rocking on his own, so Kacey took over, petting his head, cradling him, touching his arms and shoulders, shushing him when he became agitated.

  Great, now I’m the freakin’ therapist.

  She had finally attended a veteran’s meeting, about two hours from home, once she’d been assured she could just show up and not be required to sign in. She remembered thinking an AA meeting would probably be run the same way. She moved a chair from the circle and placed it next to the wall, which seemed safe enough—then the open discussion part of the meeting began.

  “Captain, would you care to join us?” Kacey had shaken her head at the counselor, more convinced than ever she didn’t belong in the circle of metal folding chairs and broken people. After all, she was still under control, wasn’t she? She could still hold it together.

  The meeting had progressed, slowly, the counselor doing a good job of encouraging the attendees to open up. Suddenly, an Army corpsman, a big guy Kacey had already identified as being too nervous and jerky for her comfort, whose gaze had been darting all over the room, came apart at the seams.

  After two other men wrestled him to the floor, the counselor, a petite woman, gathered the sobbing man into her arms. Then she just sat with him. Rocked him. Shushed him, whispered nonsense words to him, until the screaming stopped. When the room quieted down, Kacey slid out the side door, slipped past the arriving paramedics, too afraid to hang around for the final outcome.

  Even though that meeting room had been clean and organized, she still remembered the musty basement smell. The odor of the damp leaf mulch that surrounded her reminded her of that sad gathering of damaged souls. Brought back the fear.

  “Hey baby. Jeffrey, are you with me?”

  His body stiffened, then, finally, relaxed. He lifted a hand, touched her face. “Kilo Delta?”

  “No, it’s Ka…yeah, baby, it’s me. Kilo Delta.”

  “K.D., what are you doing in my nightmare?” His visage confused, he looked as if he was twelve. Her gut twisted at his vulnerability.

  “Nightmare’s over, sweet cheeks. You’re safe in my ever lovin’ Marine Corps arms. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  He raised his hand to her cheek, dragged his fingertip through her tears.

  His voice still rasped. “You can’t stop it.”

  Oh God, she knew she couldn’t. She was a fucking fraud, trying to gain some time for…for what? She couldn’t save him, any more than she could save herself. She could only be there for the moment—he needed more help than she could possibly give him.

  “Jeffrey, darlin’, can you tell me what happened?”

  He shook his head. “N-n-no. Don’t know.”

  “Okay, don’t worry. Jonah will be here, he’ll help sort it out.”

  “He can’t.” Jeffrey turned his head, gazed into her eyes. “But you know, don’t you? They want to help, but they can’t. You know there’s no hope.”

  Was she that transparent?

  “Baby, there’s always hope.” She lied, and they both knew it. “Jeffrey
, what happened during the firefight?”

  His words were so soft, so low, she could barely hear him. “Wasn’t any firefight. We were ready. Had our targets. Dropped them. One shot apiece. No fight involved. The girl was safe.”

  “Then what?”

  “Confirmed the kills, picked up the weapons, left the bodies like we were told. Easier for us, not to deal with the dead, y’know? Went back up to the house. Aye-Aye was hungry, bitching about missing breakfast.”

  She didn’t know how long they’d been sitting on the ground, but in the higher elevations, even at the peak of summer, the temperature in the woods began to drop as dark approached. The adrenaline kicked down, washed out, replaced by increasing pain as the burn in her side radiated to the rest of her body. Cold sweats increased, even under the blanket, even next to the man’s warm body. Jesus sweet Christ, she hurt.

  “Jeffrey, sweet cheeks, I need to stand up. Do you think you could help me, please?” She hoped she’d reached him—she was in really bad shape, knew she wasn’t going to last much longer.

  And just that quickly, the old Jeffrey was back. “Fuck, Kace, why are we sitting in the dirt? Where is everyone? Where the hell is Nate, he’d never leave you alone in the woods.”

  She smiled through the agony, tried for bravado. “Hey, buster, Nathan doesn’t own me. Plus, I’m not alone. I’m with you.”

  “Yeah, well, good ol’ Captain Nate won’t see it that way. If he thinks I’m poachin’—”

  “Jeffrey, please—”

  He rose, pulled Kacey upright, wrapped her in the blanket. “How are we going to get you back to the house? You can’t walk that far, and I don’t want to leave you here alone to go for help. Never mind, it might be uncomfortable, but I can piggyback you to the encampment.”

  “No need for that. Just cover your ears.”

  “Huh?”

  “Just do it.”

  When he did, she bellowed. Less than a minute later, they heard heavy footfalls coming through the brush. Nathan rushed to Kacey’s side, just as she began to wobble.

  “Um, Nathan, I’m not feeling so…” Then she collapsed.

  …

  The woman made him nuts. No two ways about it. All Nate wanted to do was touch her, hold her, protect her from the boogieman and whatever else might go bump in the night. But she appeared to be a boogieman magnet. Jesus H. Christ in a sidecar.

  Barracuda opened the rear passenger door of the Suburban, helped Nathan get settled with Kacey on his lap, then covered them both with the blanket. Nate knew he’d cook under the wool blend, but the chalet was only minutes away.

  Jeffrey, silent at first, rode shotgun. He twisted in the passenger front seat, stared at the weapons on the seat opposite Nate and Kacey.

  “Mine?”

  Barracuda nodded. Jeffrey turned to gaze out the windshield.

  Nate had the feeling Jeffrey wanted to apologize, but didn’t know how, or even why, exactly. Nate couldn’t help him out. He’d no idea what transpired, either. So much for their vaunted SEAL training. We let down one of our own, and it could have been lights-out. Permanently.

  He couldn’t wipe the image from his brain, of Jeffrey—their always cheerful, light-footed, eagle-eyed scout, the youngest of the crew, who’d proved himself indispensable after only three years with the team—pressing a .357 Sig Sauer to his head. Nate had checked the weapon. Full clip in the Sig. As they guessed, one round missing from the assault rifle after taking out his assigned target. One shot, one kill, and Jeffrey wasn’t even a sniper. But he was a combat trained and tested SEAL, determined to protect Kacey and Gemma.

  Mission accomplished. But at what cost?

  Chapter Thirteen

  It wasn’t until hours later—after the FBI clean-up crew had shown up with SWAT-type vehicles and, as Jack Cannon had ordered, collected the trash, after everyone had said their good-byes, after the SEALs, retired, piled into their packed Suburban and headed out, Jonah in tow, with a promise that their next stop after Woburn would be Timberwyck—that Kacey realized she hadn’t seen Nathan. Not since he and Barracuda had delivered her and Jeffrey to the chalet. Not since she and Nathan sat with the young SEAL until Jonah arrived to work his mojo. Since the excitement peaked at realizing Gemma would no longer be hunted.

  Standing a bit straighter, Kacey still needed to support herself with a hand against the kitchen counter. She was sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. Or, at least, tired of being bruised and battered. “Jack, have you seen Nathan?”

  Agent Cannon turned from pouring what seemed to be his nine-hundredth mug of high-octane coffee. He shook his head. “I need to take up serious drinking so I can give up caffeine. Nate? No, not since he hooked up Jeffrey with Jonah, then everyone left. You’ll need to fill me in on what the hell happened out in the woods some time. Just not now—I’ve had enough fun and excitement for one day. Nate mentioned something about having some paper targets to kill. You might want to check out behind the pool house. Maybe that’s where he went.”

  With perfect timing, the sound of methodically spaced gunshots reached the chalet.

  Hand pressed to her side again, Kacey nodded. “So I hear. What’s the current plan? When are you taking Gemma back to Kennebunkport?”

  Jack crooked an eyebrow her way. “Hurts?”

  “A bit. Wiggling around on the ground didn’t help.”

  He motioned to the coffee pot, and she nodded. He poured for her, waiting until she sat before taking a swallow from his freshened mug. “I should just mainline this stuff.” He looked around, made sure they were alone. “Funny thing about the senator, when I called the house to speak to him, after I identified myself, the housekeeper said, ‘You got her, then.’ Not a question, a stated fact. And I hadn’t said a word about the reason for my call.”

  “Maybe she just assumed that since you were FBI, of course you found the girl.”

  “That wasn’t my impression, but okay, let’s go with that for the moment. When I gave the senator the news that we had his daughter and she was safe, he seemed surprised to hear from me. Not exactly jumping up and down for joy, or even with relief, but almost stunned that she’d be retrieved. Didn’t bust my balls about not staying in touch—I figured I’d be on the receiving end of a total, major ass-chewing. I admit I strayed from protocols, so I expected to get hammered. After all the threats he made and nut-busting about losing the ransom money, we save his daughter, totally unscathed, and he says nothing.” He sighed, ran a hand through his short but unruly hair. “Of course, I still need to deal with my boss, so I suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  Kacey helped herself to a banana from the basket on the table. “You brought a U.S. senator’s daughter home, alive and undamaged. Took out bad guys. Concluded a high-profile case. Made the FBI look good. Your boss will forgive you. Maybe the senator was overwhelmed with the good news, or just exhausted by the ordeal.”

  Then again, said her Spidey-senses, maybe not. “When are you leaving? Are you flying or driving? Kennebunkport is just a quick helo hop, although there’s not much in the way of clearings around here to land for a pick up.”

  Elbows on the table, Jack slowly rotated his mug on a napkin, careful not to spill the hot coffee. “Neither. His Royal Highness the senator is driving out here to pick up his daughter, returning to Kennebunkport, then the entire entourage is flying home to Washington D.C.”

  That got Kacey’s attention. “What?”

  “Yup. Said he needs to spend quiet time with his daughter before the media frenzy catches up.”

  “Really. He’s making a move without his groupies?”

  “Yep. Just him—and his personal bodyguard, of course. Told me that he knew I could be trusted not to share his projected itinerary. He made that point several times.”

  Now her Spidey-senses were really tingling. “Projected itinerary. Isn’t that interesting. Why do you suppose he’d miss such a golden opportunity to parade in front of the media, show what a great dad
he is?”

  “My thoughts, exactly.”

  “Hmm. When will they be here?” Kacey finished the banana, played at rolling up the peel into a tight coil.

  Jack slid his chair back, stretched out his legs. “Tomorrow, noon. Time for everyone to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Tomorrow? Shit, if that were my kid, I’d move heaven and earth to get to her, no matter the time.”

  “Indeed.”

  Gemma wandered in, freshly showered, wearing pink Scooby Doo pajamas. She sat next to Kacey, offered her a hairbrush and a fabric-covered elastic hair band. “Would you do a braid for me?”

  The request took Kacey by surprise. “Agent Cannon probably has more experience with hair braiding than I do. He has two daughters. I might make a mess of knots.”

  A wrinkled nose accompanied the girl’s grin. “You can’t make a mess with just a braid. I know you can do it.”

  “Your hair is still damp.”

  “That’s okay. My hair is so curly anyway, it doesn’t make a difference if it dries in a braid.”

  Kacey made an appeal to Jack, who grinned and shook his head. What a total shit—he was not going to bail her out.

  “Okay, turn sideways.” Without too much of an issue, Kacey managed to brush, separate, then plait the girl’s heavy hair. “There, how’s that?”

  Gemma excused herself to check the braiding job in the bathroom mirror, then trotted back to the kitchen.

  “Hey, that’s pretty good for your first time.”

  Kacey wrapped an arm around her. “Want something to eat, sweetie? We sorta lost track of meals today, didn’t we?” Let’s not even discuss the day. All’s well that ends well, right?

  Gemma nodded. “Yeah, I am kinda hungry.”

  A new voice chimed in. “Well, then, if I can find the fixin’s, will mac and cheese do? It’s one of my specialties. Plus, we actually have some groceries here.” Nathan dropped his gear in the great room, propped a rifle in the corner, entered the kitchen area and began looking through cupboards.