Code Name: Forever & Ever (A Warrior's Challenge series Book 5)

by Natasza Waters

  Whether on purpose or from fear, Harper had stalled out. Paused in battle. Retreated from the fight for no goddamn good reason, unless that reason was to watch Thane die.

  “Corpsman,” Lt. Redding’s command into the headset had Pat’s pulse pounding. “Man down.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The jungle insects created a symphony of sound. Patrick looked into the heavens and thanked God. As long as he wore the Budweiser, he knew he’d be thanking God a lot over the years to come.

  Lt. Redding had ordered a withdrawal after the ambush with the militia. Sitting on an empty ammunitions crate in the compound, sweat pooling at his temples and dribbling down his jaw, he allowed his mind to wander back to Marg while the corpsman stitched Thane’s face back together in the cramped medical station inside the barrack.

  A waft of smoke drifted past Patrick’s nose and he turned to look for the source. Most of the team guys had hit their bedrolls. He rose and skirted the eight by eight equipment shack toward the rear of the compound where the four jeeps were stored. The smell of acrid smoke intensified. Rounding the farthest jeep he stopped, seeing Harper kneeling on the ground. A small pile of debris burned nearby.

  Patrick reversed course, concealing himself, and watched. Kit Harper plucked a small branch from the pile and drew it close to his face, staring into the tiny flame. He inhaled deeply and then waved the stick a little, the fire extinguished except for the deep amber embers releasing a thin plume of smoke. Kit waved his hand over the fire’s hot flames as if he caressed a lover. Unease skittered through Pat’s veins.

  He stepped out from behind the jeep. “What the hell are you doing, Harper?”

  Kit’s gaze flashed toward Pat and he quickly heaped dirt over the flames, dousing them. Pat approached, one hand behind his back, loosely palming his weapon.

  Harper glared up at him. “If you’re here to tell me I fucked up, I don’t need to hear it.”

  “Think you do,” Patrick said, anger deepening his voice. “Or did you pull back thinking that Tango was going to take out Thane and save you the trouble?”

  “He’s alive.”

  “No thanks to you.” Patrick stood over the mound of smoldering dirt and kicked it with the toe of his boot. The smell of smoke traveled for miles. Harper knew open fires weren’t permitted, yet here he was breaking the rules again. “You can’t bury your mistake. You’re done, Harper. Lt. Redding must have seen what I saw.”

  Harper’s eyes blazed with hate. He hadn’t washed the camo paint from his face, the diagonal green and black swathes crossing his features. “You two assholes think I’m gonna wash out.” He jumped to his feet. “The jungle is a dangerous fucking place, Cobbs. Men die out here. Accidents. Friendly Fire. Hell, you never know when a stray bullet could end up in your brain.”

  Pat locked his attention on Kit when he strode by him. He sounded like a madman, and Pat had no doubt the threat was real.

  He let Harper reach the last jeep before saying, “Odd thing, Harper. Thane got some news from home. He noticed the arsonist in San Diego has been quiet since we got here. The fires just suddenly stopped. Media can’t figure it out.”

  Harper’s feet paused.

  “Seems to me, you like fire a lot. Seen you stare into the burning end of your cigarette, too, many times, and your little fire out here looked more like a ritual than a marshmallow roast. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about those fires back home, would you?” Patrick gripped the weapon behind his back. His arm taut.

  Harper spoke over his shoulder. “If I were you, I wouldn’t grasp at straws. I’d be more concerned about Austen. He’s going to make a mistake again, like he did tonight, but next time he’ll be going home in a body bag.”

  Harper disappeared, and Patrick released his grasp on the handle of his weapon. The guy was certifiable, but Pat wouldn’t voice his concerns to Lt. Redding. He had to believe Redding saw Harper’s actions tonight. Retracing his steps to find out how Thane was holding up, he rounded the corner to see him sitting on the picnic table. A bottle of water sat next to him and he stared down at a copy of American Sweetheart magazine. Pat slid onto the tabletop beside him.

  “Having unclean thoughts about my girlfriend again?” he kidded. Thane shook his head and didn’t say a word. Pat cocked his head lower, trying to get his attention. “Hey, man, we all fuck up. The foliage was thick. There’s no way you could have seen them hiding in there.” He sniffed and let out a sigh. “We got night vision not extra-sensory vision. Stop beating yourself up.”

  Thane’s silence continued. His thumb ran down Marg’s image, following the curve of her hips. It bothered Pat, but not as much as his friend’s silence.

  “If you’re thinking the chicks aren’t going to fall all over themselves because of that cut on your face, you can put that thought in a chamber and fire it into the sky. Won’t happen.”

  Thane bit his lower lip and blinked. “Don’t care about that,” he spoke in an almost inaudible whisper. “I keep going over the engagement. Someone could have died because of me. I wasn’t ready. I need to stop acting like a cocky fucker. We’re not in a video game. I don’t have three lives.”

  Pat shrugged and stared into the dense jungle, the vines curling around the metal mesh of the fencing. “You’re right, but no one died. No regret, remember?”

  The scuff of boots on the ground drew their attention. Lt. Redding appeared in front of them. There was always an ounce of compassion, an ounce of determination, and an ounce of hard-ass in Red’s expression. At the moment, it leaned more toward hard-ass.

  “Austen, you got your ass kicked tonight.”

  He winced. “Yes, sir.”

  Pat knew Thane had a lot of respect for the man. Probably more, since he’d saved his hide tonight.

  “Do you know why?” Red propped his knuckles against his hips and set his legs apart.

  “I wasn’t ready to be on point.”

  “Nobody is ready to be on point, Austen. None of us have X-ray vision. None of us can leap over tall buildings, no matter what your BUD/S instructors told you.”

  Thane swallowed thickly. “Yes, sir.”

  Red let out a deep breath. “Listen, Austen, you can either dwell on what happened tonight or you can dissect it. Learn from it. What would you do differently?”

  “Should have waited before leaving the river. Listened for movement in the jungle. Surveyed for signs of Tangos.”

  “What else?”

  Thane nodded and his gaze rose to meet Redding’s. “Used my gut instinct. I ignored it. Something told me they were there, but I disregarded it.”

  A slow smile crossed Redding’s face. “Damn right you did, and you’re gonna unfortunately carry that lesson on your ugly mug for the rest of your days as a Navy SEAL.”

  A grin curled at the edges of Thane’s mouth. “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re dismissed, Austen. Want to speak with Cobbs for a moment.”

  He and Thane glanced at each other for a second. Neither of them had missed Redding’s remark. Thane had his lieutenant’s seal of approval. Once Thane was gone, Redding’s serious expression made Patrick uncomfortable. Was it his turn to take some shit?

  “You have something to tell me?” Lt. Redding’s voice demanded—not asked.

  “No, sir.”

  Redding’s head notched closer. “I’m going to give you another chance because I did, and I know you saw it, too.”

  Patrick’s brain ticked with options. There was only one. He nodded. “May have seen Harper withdraw, sir.”

  Redding’s gaze burned into him. “You’re fucking right he did. Now, I want to know why.”

  Cobbs shook his head. “Not sure, sir.”

  “There’s been something brewing with you three since you stepped into my squad. What I witnessed tonight says it’s more than New Guys pissing on each other over a girl.”

  Patrick gnawed on his cheek. “Things happened pretty fast out there, sir.”

  “They sure as fuc
k did. They always will, but SpecOps needs men of sound mind. Do I have anything to be concerned about?”

  Jesus, Mary and Joseph, he did not want to be sitting here. “I can’t answer that, sir.”

  Redding huffed and nodded. “Get some sleep. Sun is coming up. We’ll be heading out again tonight.”

  Patrick jumped from the picnic table and got the hell out of there. When he lay down on his cot, Thane was staring up at the ceiling. Cobbs rolled onto his back and saw a picture of Marg tacked on the studs.

  “You son of a bitch. You did that on purpose.”

  Thane nodded. “Yup.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m going to make you look at her every goddamn time you hit the sack. Eventually, you’re going to realize what you’re missing.”

  Marg’s smile warmed his heart. Every time she’d smiled at him, he felt whole. She was the All American Sweetheart. She’d been his until he reacted from pure emotion and left her in her parents’ driveway.

  “She’ll move on. So will I.”

  “To what?” Thane murmured with his arms flapped open and tucked behind his head. “She’s never giving up on you. No matter where you came from or what you do, she’s yours.”

  “Maybe, but what about you? I know you’re full of shit talking about living your life without someone special.”

  Thane shrugged. “Don’t know. Haven’t met her yet, doubt I will.”

  “What would she look like?” Pat asked out of curiosity.

  “I like tall and blonde, but knowing my luck, she’ll be five foot nothing, brunette with a whole lot of attitude.”

  Pat chuckled. “Think you’re gonna need her to keep you in line.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He rolled onto his side to face Pat. “But for now, I’ll keep looking forward to seeing Marg waiting at the airport for you.”

  “Fuck off, man.”

  “Think I’m wrong? Do us both a favor, make things right when we go home.”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he closed his eyes and Marg was right there in his mind, and the memory of her in his arms lulled him closer to sleep. He wanted to be a good man. The man she saw in her dreams.

  * * * *

  Ten hours later, in the midst of a torrential downpour and darkness covering their movement, Alpha Squad disembarked onto the river bank. Serpiente’s militia hadn’t returned home from last night’s mission because they were lying dead in the jungle, thanks to Alpha Squad. Faron would be on edge.

  Donut took point tonight, but Thane was right behind him. The corpsman had shot him up with antibiotics, pain killers, covered the padding on his face with a green clothe, and Austen was back in business. Patrick lined up two men behind Harper. The man directly behind Harper was Lt. Redding. Their lieutenant had doubts. Redding would monitor his actions. Nothing would be missed.

  Intel had been received that Faron Serpiente was still in the area. Tonight, Alpha Squad would complete their mission. Taking the head of the cartel into custody would stop over one-half of the illegal narcotics trade in the country. Faron’s father had been a kingpin and when he’d been taken out, his son stepped up to assume the position. The drugs they manufactured were landing on the shores of the United States and sold in the schoolyards of San Diego. Patrick wanted to be part of Faron’s demise.

  Within two hours, belly down on the moist ground, they’d reached the estate hidden in the dense foliage. Their team sniper moved into position. Now, they’d wait and watch. It might only be hours, or it could be two days. It was their lieutenant’s call. They were close to bringing Faron down, Redding wouldn’t make a move until he was sure of success.

  Three hours later, Alpha Squad went from silence to insertion. Lt. Redding gave the signal to break off into teams of two. Their comm specialist cut power to the interior of the building before they entered. Donut entered at the rear of the building through a door that hadn’t been used while they monitored the comings and goings of security. As lead breacher, Donut worked quickly, Thane keeping watch as his backup. Planned chaos ensued.

  The team breached the mansion with vines crawling up the exterior walls and heavy rains that had turned the white stucco to a sickening yellow. Alpha Squad cleared each room as they drove themselves deeper into the interior of the cartel’s home. Serpiente’s security fell where they stood as US ammunition brought them down. Patrick teamed up with Target, who’d gotten the name because he always hit his mark with one shot. With no injuries to the team, Alpha Squad cleared the bottom level of the mansion.

  Faron had to be holed-up in one of the second story rooms. Target motioned toward the stairs in the grand front entrance, leading to the second story, with a swipe of his hand. They couldn’t strut up the steps without expecting to eat an unhealthy mouthful of lead. Patrick took cover in a shallow alcove just deep enough to stay out of the line of fire until Target signaled to make a move. Thane and Donut had been ordered to breach the second floor from the exterior. When gunfire erupted, Target motioned for Patrick to follow and they took the marble stairs three at a time, staying close to the curving wall as they climbed.

  Comm chatter was kept to a minimum except to advise of position. They worked like synchronized swimmers, every movement considered before executed.

  Halfway down the open corridor on the second floor, Thane’s low timbre transmitted in Pat’s head set. “Faron’s escaped the building. HVT in sight.”

  Harper had remained outside the mansion for just this purpose.

  Lt. Redding’s order on the radio came without pause. “Cobbs, Donut follow the HVT. Twenty bad guys just showed up outside. Faron must have recalled his militia from their external posts.”

  Patrick and Donut retraced their steps, taking down two more bad guys as they descended the stairs. Keeping low, they entered the living room. Target carefully raised a window. Surveyed the situation outside and then slid out first. Pat kept watch, finger on the trigger of his weapon as Target ran for cover in the jungle. A short whistle from Target meant Pat could make his move. One more look around, and he dropped to the ground outside and ran like hell toward the bush line.

  “Southeast corner of the compound,” Donut said on the comm channel.

  Before Target and Pat turned for the last known position, an explosion rocked the compound.

  A plume of smoke and fire shot through the canopy of the jungle.

  “Four Tangos down,” Harper said over the radio.

  Harper must have detonated a fuel tank. Within seconds, another explosion erupted. What the fuck was Harper doing? They were hunting Faron, not torching the location.

  Pat spotted Donut and Thane hunched down behind a massive tree. He and Target scuttled up on their bellies beside them.

  “Faron’s with two other men. Think one of them is his second, Phillipe,” Donut said.

  Target rolled onto his back and checked his magazine. With a snap, he fed a new clip into his weapon. “Donut and I will come around from the west. You and Austen take the left flank. Neutralize the target if necessary.”

  Pat and Thane both nodded abruptly. Inside the house, the rest of the squad engaged with Serpiente’s men who were putting up a diversion to help Faron escape.

  Pat and Thane skirted the compound in a crouch, stopping to survey the area before proceeding and keeping their eyes on the building Target thought Faron had run to for cover. Windowless. Basically a bunker or safe room. Before he and Thane reached the door, intent on using explosives to gain entry, the door burst open. Five men covered Faron, machine gun fire cutting the jungle into diced greens. The flash of their muzzles lit up the night. The light of the half-moon couldn’t penetrate the dense canopy above their heads, but with night vision goggles, they had an upper hand on the militia.

  Faron and his men sprinted for the jungle. They wouldn’t get far on foot, there had to be a vehicle hidden close by.

  Thane ran through the thick vines, and Pat was right behind him. Donut and Target were exchanging fire pow
er with two militia still in the safe house. Thane split off to the right and Patrick went left to cut Faron off from whatever he was aiming for.

  A hundred feet ahead of Pat, hidden by thick brush, an engine rumbled to life. Gunfire erupted again near the mansion. The vines and deadfall grabbed at his legs, and he went down twice. Thrusting to his feet, he burrowed through the dank jungle, the wet leaves with sharp edges, slapped at his face and left razor thin cuts in his skin.

  When all went suddenly silent, he stopped.

  He heard the snap of a twig. Before he could turn, someone the size of a linebacker drove into his side and knocked him to the ground. The kid from City Heights joined forces with the Special Warfare Operator to fight for his life. His hands, slippery with sweat, lost a grip on his weapon. Knocked from his hand, he reached for it, opening himself up. His attacker nailed him in the kidneys with a kick, knocking the wind from Pat’s lungs.

  The Tango vaulted for Pat’s weapon and whirled it behind him. The thick brush swallowed the MK5 in one gulp.

  With a swipe of his leg, he took the Tango down. Pat pulled the knife from his belt, burying it in the guy’s chest, and then fell back on his haunches, breathing heavily. He didn’t pause for long, his concentration focused on catching up to Thane.

  Patrick picked up the Tango’s rifle and scrambled to his feet. He broke through the thicket and entered a small clearing, then immediately stepped back for cover. Thane stood with his hands in the air and Phillipe, Faron’s second in command, stood less than eight feet away, pointing a handgun at his swim buddy.

  A single shot ruptured the silence. Phillipe’s knees buckled, the Serpiente’s second in command, dead—before he hit the ground. Harper emerged from the jungle, his weapon raised.

  Thane relaxed and dropped his arms. “Son of a bitch, Harper. Thought I was gonna meet my maker.”

  Harper hadn’t seen Pat standing within the brush. He advanced on Thane, weapon raised. “Should have let him pull the trigger. Wasn’t thinking straight.”

  Thane’s body tensed. Harper advanced until he reached Phillipe’s still body. He retrieved the hand gun from the dead man’s fingers, then Harper slung his US Navy issued weapon over his shoulder.