Spliced

by Robin Leigh Miller

  “I couldn’t be more serious.”

  “None of us have been trained for this sort of thing. We shoot at what’s shooting us. That’s what we know, not sneaking around like some fucking black operative,” Becker snapped.

  The other two cautiously agreed. Ridge couldn’t blame them for being so damned scared. Hell, he was shaking so badly inside he wasn’t sure his bladder would hold up. “I know that. They know that, but we’re being called on to do something important here and we’ll do it. Look at it this way. We succeed, we’re all heroes.”

  “And if we don’t, we’re dead,” O’Reilly added.

  “That’s why you suck it up and get your heads on straight now,” Ridge barked in a whisper. “We can’t afford to blow this or it means the ultimate sacrifice. When Easton gets back, he takes over and you will follow his orders and his lead. No questions asked. No smart-ass remarks. He’ll get us through this.”

  Almighty Jesus, he hoped Easton would get them through this.

  “What the fuck does he know about secret missions?”

  “More than you think, kid,” Easton replied, crawling into the room. “Okay, two houses down. I make about five Taliban and—hold on to your asses, boys—three Americans. Not military, civilians, but you can bet your dicks they’re armed to the teeth.”

  “Capture or take down?” Ridge asked quietly.

  “Capture if possible. Take down only if necessary.”

  “It would be easier if we could just blow the building up,” Bender groused.

  “That it would, but that wouldn’t get any answers, now, would it?” Cale slipped his flack jacket back on. “And the big men, they like answers.”

  Ridge had to admit, he liked Bender’s idea better but Cale seemed to be in the know, so they’d do it his way. But when this was over, he was going to get answers from his best friend if he had to beat them out.

  “What’s your plan, Easton? And it better be a damned good one.”

  “We’re going to sneak right up their asses, load the damn house with flash grenades and before they know what hit them we’ll have them pinned to the dirt.”

  “That sounds easy enough,” O’Reilly snorted, rolling his eyes.

  “I’ve got a question,” Becker injected. “What the fuck do we do about those pricks on the roofs? Hope they don’t see us? Cause I gotta tell ya, I’m not comfortable with that idea.”

  “That’s exactly what we’re gonna do, Becker. I’m willing to bet those men are locals that are being made to sit up there. If they were real Taliban they’da taken us out as soon as they saw us. Let’s roll, ladies. The faster we get this done the sooner it’ll be over.”

  Easton led them out the back, motioned for them to stay low and as close to the buildings as possible. Ridge brought up the rear, making sure his young soldiers were covered. It didn’t take but five minutes to slither their way to the target house. Once there, Ridge put Becker, O’Reilly and Bender in position and then disappeared.

  The three men gave him questioning looks but he couldn’t answer. He didn’t have a clue as to what Easton was up to. He didn’t like this—it felt all wrong. The back of his neck itched as if he was in the sight of a gun. The slightest noise sounded behind him. Ridge turned and brought his gun up at the same time. What he saw made his blood run cold.

  Only a few feet away stood a Taliban soldier with a gun aimed right at his head. Before the man could pull the trigger, Cale reached around from behind and slit the enemy’s throat while holding his hand over the man’s mouth.

  It only took seconds for the man to drop to the ground dead. Ridge met Cale’s detached, chilling gaze and nodded his appreciation. Without any further acknowledgment the two returned to the mission.

  Cale pointed in silence to the well-hidden seam of the back door. Bender and O’Reilly readied their flash grenades. Ridge and Becker were prepared to shoot. In a matter of seconds all hell would break loose and Ridge hoped like hell Cale had made the right call about the men on the roofs. All their lives were in the palms of his hands.

  Cale counted down with his fingers. Ridge prayed he was the only one who could hear the loud thunder of his heart in his chest. He clenched his fingers around his rifle and sweat trickled down the side of his head.

  Cale lowered his last finger, jerked open the door and Bender and O’Reilly tossed in three grenades apiece. Cale slammed the door closed. They all ducked and when the repercussion of the grenades subsided they rushed the house. Like a well-oiled machine they surrounded the eight men as they staggered, groaned and searched for an escape.

  “Everyone on the ground. Now,” Cale barked, aiming his gun at two of the Americans. “The first one to even twitch eats hot lead.”

  Once the prisoners were facedown on the ground, Cale ordered O’Reilly and Bender to secure their hands. With that task done, Cale proceeded to search the Americans. His movements were precise and quick and if he hadn’t been watching so closely he would have missed Cale pocketing papers he’d retrieved from one of the Americans.

  “You don’t want to do this,” one of the prisoners grumbled. “Is your life worth it?”

  Cale calmly pressed the barrel of his rifle to the back of the man’s head. “You’ll be wantin’ to shut up now. I have what I’m after. You aren’t very important at this point.”

  Ridge nearly shivered from the ice in Cale’s tone. This was a side of his friend he’d never witnessed. He didn’t know whether to be impressed or scared.

  “I’m just one of many,” the American traitor snapped. “Your life won’t be worth shit.”

  Cale flipped his rifle around in a blur of movement, struck the prisoner in the back of the head with the butt and just as fast, twirled it around again so the barrel aimed at the other American.

  “You have something to say?”

  Ridge gawked at the unconscious man lying on the ground and then glanced at the two remaining Americans. Neither wanted to open their mouths and from the look on Cale’s face, they’d made the right decision.

  “I didn’t think so.” Cale keyed his radio. “Animals are caged,” he spoke into the mic. “Watch for the birds in the trees.”

  “Birds?” Becker questioned.

  “Snipers,” Ridge responded with his own icy tone.

  Within minutes the small house filled with stone-faced, heavily armed soldiers. One by one they removed the Taliban members. Cale checked all the Americans one last time before they were led out.

  The smart-mouthed prisoner Cale had rendered unconscious stopped at the door, turned and stared down Cale. “You’ll regret what you’ve done. I have arms that reach all around the world and can touch anyone, anywhere. Anyone.”

  “Get him the fuck outta here,” Cale ordered.

  An eerie chill ran down Ridge’s spine. He didn’t know what was going on but he knew a threat when he heard one. Cale might not be worried about himself, but what about Avery? Could this bastard find her?

  “Becker, O’Reilly, Bender, dismissed,” Ridge ordered, never taking his gaze away from Cale.

  “Leave some ass for us to kick,” Becker huffed as he slipped out the door.

  Ridge waited for Cale to offer some explanation but Cale simply stood there, their gazes locked. Voices drifted into the room from outside but Ridge paid little attention. Finally, he bit off a curse, pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, trying desperately to push away the dull thud that had started behind his eyes.

  “What the fuck, man? How long have you been Ops and why the hell was it such a big-ass secret?” He couldn’t believe Cale had kept something like this from him. It just didn’t make any sense.

  “That’s the way it had to be,” Cale replied calmly with a shrug. “They recruited me two years ago. I went through training and got put onto this mission right after.”

  Two years ago. For two years Cale had worked Special Ops and never once let on. Sure, they went long spans of time without speaking, but fuck, this would be something you went out of your
way to tell your best friend. Ridge shook his head—guess that made him the dumbass of the year. “Nice.”

  “Don’t take it personally, Gates. This was a big one and we couldn’t chance anyone knowing I wasn’t regular army. It’s not like it didn’t eat a hole in my gut keeping it from you.”

  Yeah, he just bet it did. “How’d you come to be assigned to my unit?”

  “I requested it. We were split up and tacked onto a number of units serving. It was the best way to watch and listen. The two of us always worked well together and I knew you’d watch my back no matter how pissed off you got at me.” Cale let a little cocky grin slide across his lips.

  “Avery know about you?” He couldn’t imagine Avery not trying to clue him in on this.

  “No, but I suppose I can tell her now. It looks like we caught the big fish we were after.”

  Ridge glared at his oldest friend. “You sure about that? I might not be Special Forces worthy but even I can see that bastard meant what he said.”

  Cale let loose a bark of laughter. “It wouldn’t be right if they didn’t threaten someone. That’s the way the game is played, Gates.”

  Maybe, but it still didn’t feel right to him. How could Cale risk Avery’s safety like this? “Well, what the fuck do I know, right?” His best friend had used him for the last six months and he never saw it.

  Ridge turned to leave. Bone-deep tired seeped into him and he just wanted to get out of this tiny room.

  “Gates, wait.”

  Ridge stopped but didn’t turn around. What more could be said? His men were out there and he knew damn good and well they’d figured it all out by now. They’d be wanting blood and he had to inform them they couldn’t have it.

  “It’s all good, Easton,” he said, weariness tingeing his voice. “I get it. I completely get it. Hell, I’d have done the same thing.” He would have too. They both breathed the military. How could he hold this against Cale when he would have done the same exact thing?

  “Yeah, you would have.” Cale walked up behind him. “Just remember, it was you I wanted watching my back. No one else. You’re like a brother to me, and this way, I got to make sure you kept your ass out of trouble.”

  There was that and Ridge did like working with Cale again. “Just like old times,” he whispered.

  “Just about. Right about now we’d be heading to a bar and letting off steam together. Tossing back a couple of shots and chasing them with some ice cold beer and then picking up a few women.”

  Oh yeah, he liked the old times. No one could drink better than Cale Easton and then have a clear enough mind to talk the smooth talk to the ladies.

  “Although, I’m not sure I want you picking up any women.” Cale nudged Ridge with his elbow. “You should be saving yourself for my sister.”

  This time Ridge barked a deep laugh. “Get it through your head, man. Me and Avery aren’t going to happen. She deserves better.”

  Cale made a rude noise. “I don’t know where you got this distorted picture of my sister but I’m telling you she isn’t the saint you have her made out to be. Trust me, I know. She can be ruthless, and just like you if she wants something she moves heaven and hell to get it and fuck anyone who gets in her way. Fair warning, buddy, she isn’t flowers and candy, she’s chrome and seven-hundred horse-power waiting to be let loose. I think you’re just the man to handle her.”

  They couldn’t possibly be talking about the same woman. Avery Easton was nothing but proper and delicate. Ridge gave Cale a glare. “Sure, and I’m a ballet dancer.”

  “Didn’t know you took ballet, man. That’s cool, though. I won’t spread the word.”

  Ridge popped Cale hard on the arm.

  “Seriously, are you coming home with me next month? We still good?”

  There was a hint of worry in Cale’s eyes. Good. There should be. “We’re good.” The two men did a fist bump. “But if you ever fucking use me again like this and don’t let me in on it, I’ll kick your ass so hard they’ll be asking me to join Special Ops.”

  “Yeah, about that. You wouldn’t be interested, would you? I mean, I did put your name in.”

  Ridge swung his head around expecting to see Cale laughing, but he wasn’t.

  “They should be contacting you after your tour is up. Just say no if you aren’t interested, but if you are…” Cale shrugged.

  Hell yes he was interested, but he wasn’t going to let Cale know that—not right now, anyway. “I’ll think about it.”

  “You do that. Come on. Let’s go see if the three ladies out there have calmed down any.”

  They walked out of the house together, around the front and stepped up next to Becker, O’Reilly and Bender. The streets were full of military vehicles. Ridge looked up at the roofs. All the so-called snipers were gone. Guess Cale called that one right.

  Becker glared over at Cale. “This means you’ll be moving on, I hope.”

  Cale faked wounded feelings, slapping his gloved hand over his heart. “Becker, man, that hurt.

  “Good, it was meant to.”

  Cale gave all three of them a smile. “You’ll thank me for this when they’re pinning a medal on those twelve-year-old chests of yours. Just think of the stories you’ll be able to spin for the women.”

  Ridge snickered. Cale always could smooth over hurt feelings, in his own unique way. From the looks on O’Reilly’s and Bender’s faces they liked the sound of that. Becker, however, wasn’t being swayed so easily.

  Damn, but it was good working with Easton again.

  Chapter Two

  “Gates! Gates!”

  Ridge turned to see young Sehr running down the street. “We owe that girl,” he told Cale.

  “I’ll make sure they know she helped. Damn smart kid.”

  All five of them turned and smiled at the girl as she ran toward them. Ridge fished around inside his pocket for the last of his protein bars. It wasn’t much, but then the girl didn’t eat much. She’d see it as a treat.

  A single brilliant ray of sun shone down on her as she smiled and waved. Ridge swore he could hear the heavens praising her courage.

  “Shit,” Cale growled. “Get back, Sehr. Back!” he shouted, pushing Ridge and the other three off the street.

  Ridge watched the mortar land in the middle of the street in slow motion. The nose of the explosive crashed into the ground as fire, rock and dirt spewed up in the air. The repercussion of the blast tossed them all off their feet and sucked the oxygen from Ridge’s lungs.

  He didn’t feel the force or the heat from the explosion as he sailed through the air. All he saw was the terror on young Sehr’s face just before fire and dirt engulfed her frail body. Anger, fear and gut-wrenching grief clawed at his throat.

  She didn’t deserve this. She was one of the good ones. She should have a shot at her life.

  Ridge hit the ground with a bone-jarring, teeth-shattering thud. Deep anger numbed the pain from the impact. He ignored the loud ringing in his ears as he fought to scramble to his feet. He had to help her. He had to save the girl.

  Debris rained down over the area. Hot, molten metal from the vehicles slammed to the ground in front of him. It didn’t matter. Rock and dirt pelted but he didn’t notice it. Pushing to his feet, he kept his focus on where Sehr had been standing.

  Taking a step, his leg gave out and he dropped to his knees. Still, the pain didn’t register. He stood and fell again. “Sehr!” he shouted, forcing himself up.

  After falling for the third time he leaned against what remained of a house, propped himself up and forced his legs to move. “Sehr!”

  Screams and wails filled the air around him. The smell of spent ordnance, burning metal and flesh assaulted his nose but he pushed on. Sehr needed help and he wouldn’t abandon her, not after she’d helped them.

  Wounded and dead lay scattered around the street. Up ahead he saw a small form crumpled on the ground. His stomach rolled and pitched; bile filled his throat. Pushing it away he forged on until
he was left to belly crawl toward her. “Sehr!”

  A frail old man and young boy got to her first. The boy silently cried, streams of tears flowing down his tiny, dirty cheeks. The grandfather crouched next to his granddaughter, lifted her broken and torn body into his arms and shouted his grief and agony into the smoldering air.

  An eerie stillness settled over Ridge as he took in the sight of Sehr’s body. Blood dripped to the dirt from where her arm had once been, the slender arm that she’d waved so enthusiastically to them. Both her legs were missing and her hair had been burned away.

  The old man met Ridge’s gaze, his eyes asking questions for which Ridge had no answers. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed to the old man. “I’m so sorry.” It was his fault she was dead. He should have told her to remain hidden until he came to get her, but he didn’t, and now her young life was gone, snuffed out like a used-up candle.

  The old grandfather held Sehr close to his chest. Understanding and forgiveness filled his old, wrinkled face. Two things Ridge didn’t deserve.

  The grandfather cradled her remains in his arms and took her back to their broken-down house. Ridge could do little but watch. Slowly the sounds of mayhem seeped into his consciousness.

  Orders were being shouted, gunshots were fired and more cries of grief cluttered the air and his mind. His men—the thought blasted through the fog of his brain like a bullet. His men, he had to get to his men.

  Ridge dragged himself over the buildings, pulled his damaged body up and limped with purpose back to where his men had been standing. He lost one—he’d be damned if he’d lose another. “Easton! Bender! O’Reilly! Becker!”

  White hot, searing pain shot through his leg, making him stumble to his knees. All the pain his body had blocked out moments ago flared to life at once. His vision grew faint, his surroundings faded to a bleak white. Gritting his teeth he reached deep down and fought to stay conscious.

  He had to get to his men. They needed him. Pushing through the debilitating pain, he rose and forged on. Up ahead he could see Becker bent over a body—who, he couldn’t tell. At least one of his men was alive.