“Two males of fighting age. No visible weapons,” Jon reported what he and Zane had found into the COMM for the rest of the team. He remembered hearing the shots outside and asked, “What have you got?”
“Single male fighting age, armed with an AK and grenades.” The report came back in Grant’s voice. “He must have been on guard duty. He was taking a leak when he spotted us moving in. Swung his weapon at us. We engaged.”
And neutralized the threat so they had one less to worry about. Jon nodded. “Copy. Securing detainees now.”
“Copy. Beginning search of the property,” Grant responded.
After finding only two unarmed men in the house, Jon suspected that the chances of any significant cache of weapons being nearby would be slim. The arms and explosives would likely be hidden farther away. If they found them in the short time allotted for the unit to stay safely on site and search, they would photograph the evidence and then blow it up to make sure it didn’t stay operational to be used to kill again. They were still allowed to do that—at least until the headquarters staff got the bright idea they should start toting the shit back down the mountain while wearing sixty pounds of gear. God preserve them all from the head shed’s good ideas.
After securing the two men with zip cuffs, Zane turned toward Jon. “This was supposed to be a stronghold and they’ve got one guard outside and these two inside, unarmed and sleeping. Where are all the weapons? Where are the supposed recruits being trained?”
Jon had no doubt they’d find some weapons, eventually, after they’d searched through the crap inside the dwelling, but Zane was right. Something was off. The promised payload didn’t seem to be there.
It had been there five days ago. The squad had seen the satellite images captured by the drone. There’d been lots of activity. Many men carrying boxes in and out of the building.
“My bet is it was here, but it got moved while we sat around waiting for orders to come down.”
“Six hour hike up a goat trail for nothing.” Zane shook his head.
Jon let out a snort. “At least the way back is downhill.”
They were supposedly the best of the best, and they’d just been sent on what amounted to a wild goose chase.
“Yeah, downhill while dragging these two with us,” Zane pointed out.
Yes, that would make the long, cold trek more challenging, and they wanted to be back inside the wire before sunrise, which meant they had to hurry.
With the men facedown in the corner of the room with their hands bound behind them, Zane started to paw through the bedding. “There’s nothing here. I’m fucking tired of this shit.”
“You and me both, buddy. Just remember, one more month then we’re out of here.”
Back home to Virginia. There his unit would train hard, usually three out of four weeks a month when they weren’t called out on missions, all in preparation to deploy again a few months down the road. In past, Jon had looked forward to the change. The days split between PT, time on the shooting range, and in the kill house for close-quarters battle training. But after so many years, it didn’t feel like much of a change anymore.
Something had to give, he only hoped it wasn’t him.
*
A fifteen-minute encounter with the insurgents—which included searching the premises for Intel to bring back and destroying weapons on site—amounted to two hours worth of paperwork back on base. The modern military was choking on its own red tape and not even those in the Naval Special Warfare Development Group were exempt from it.
Even though he was done with the paperwork, Jon’s workday—which happened at night since his unit worked vampire hours—wasn’t finished yet. As the early morning sun rose higher over the horizon, he and the unit had to sit through a meeting as well.
He did his best to focus on his commander’s words as he sat in the chair that was beginning to feel much too comfortable.
“The command thinks it would be a good idea—”
Every man in the room let out a low groan at the commander’s words, Jon included.
That was another thing that was bound to kill the military, or at least a few of its men—the good idea fairy. Jon had survived the raid. He’d survived the trip back down the mountain. He’s survived the masses of paperwork, but as he sat in the war room and listened to the commander, he realized he might not survive the good idea fairy.
The commander’s only reaction was to paste on a scowl and continue, “—if we announced ourselves before entering the building.”
Zane raised one hand. “Announced ourselves how?”
“Like the police do. A statement of whom we are followed by instructions for anyone inside to put down their weapons and come out with their hands behind their head.”
The silence felt ripe with the many unspoken comments on the latest idea, but not a man spoke a word.
The commander’s gaze swept the room. “Questions? Comments?”
Besides what the fuck, Jon had nothing, though he was sure the opinions would be flying later, once he and the guys were in private. By the expression on the commander’s face, he felt the same as the rest of them but like them, his hands were tied.
Command might as well have literally tied all of their hands. That wouldn’t have been much different than sending them out there to announce themselves to the bad guys. Maybe they could get them some bull’s eye targets to hang on their chests as well, to make it easier for the enemy to kill them.
The commander dismissed them, and the unit moved out of the room. It wasn’t until they’d reached their quarters that the grumbling began.
“Announce ourselves?” Zane’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are they kidding?”
Sitting on the edge of his rack to yank off one boot, Thom let out a puff of air. “We might as well forget about the night missions and just walk up to the front door in broad daylight.”
“Better yet, let’s just drop them a letter. Let ’em know when we’re fixin’ to come. Then maybe they’ll all relocate and we won’t have to go at all.” Brody shook his head, and then glanced at Jon. “You’re awfully quiet. Don’t tell me you have no opinion on this bullshit.”
Jon had plenty of opinions, but not one would do them any good. He shrugged. “Let’s just get out of this shithole and back to the states alive.”
His goal was getting home before the good idea fairy made a casualty out of him. After that, he’d have to see. Until then, he’d take it one day at a time. He’d done it before.
Sometimes, when surviving even a single day seemed too overwhelming, it was more like one hour at a time. Jon flashed back to BUD/S, when his future as a SEAL depended on both physical and mental endurance and the instructors made sure to test both beyond the limits. He remembered making deals with himself on a daily basis—just get through until lunch. Then, after he accomplished that, he’d think I just have to make it until dinner.
Hell Week deprived the candidate of sleep until some men hallucinated, put them in the cold ocean water for so many hours they nearly reached the point of hypothermia, but they always were fed in exchange for their efforts. That they’d get even a short break in the torturous training to eat was the one thing he’d depend on and he’d held on to that knowledge like a life preserver.
Sad that in light of how he was feeling right now, those seemed like the good old days.
Jon forced his mind to brighter things. “I got an email from Rick.”
Grant glanced up. “Yeah? What’s up with him?”
“He and Darci are having a New Year’s Eve party. He says if we’re home in time, we’re all invited.”
Zane let out a snort. “Hope he doesn’t expect an RSVP. We’ll know when we’ll be home about the same time we touch down.”
“You ain’t kidding.” Brody laughed as his gaze cut sideways to Jon. “So, he’s still living with Darci?”
“Seems like.” Jon nodded.
Brody nodded but didn’t comment, even though Jon had fully expected
some razzing about Rick living with his little sister. That had Jon wondering. Was Brody more interested in Rick’s current living situation or Darci’s? Definitely an intriguing concept since Brody and Darci had always been polite with each other, but that was it. Brody’s brother Chris, on the other hand, teased the girl relentlessly, like a schoolboy pulling the pigtails of the girl he liked. Maybe Brody was inquiring on behalf of his brother. Interesting.
Thoughts of Darci brought up memories of Ali, which happened far too often for Jon’s liking considering he’d been the one to set the limits between them. One night of fun. No communications afterward.
Even so, when Jon had first arrived in Afghanistan, he’d half expected to find an email from Ali waiting on him. He figured it would be easy enough for her to wrangle his email address out of Rick by way of Darci. Then again, he sensed she was smart so she and Darci could probably figure out his email all by themselves. If Ali inserted his name in lieu of Rick’s in his old military email address, she’d come up with Jon’s. It wasn’t as if the government used a real tough code to create those addresses.
But there’d been no email, or letter, or care package. Crazy as it seemed, he couldn’t deny the undercurrent of disappointment he felt that she’d actually stuck to their agreement.
Maybe she was pissed at him for running out so fast that night.
The memory of her on her knees by the door, big hazel eyes staring up at him as she deep-throated him, had a long unsatisfied need surfacing from deep within. Over five months later he could relive that night in his mind with such vivid, visceral recollection it made him weak in the knees. Of course, it had been five sexless months spent in a comfortless hellhole, so that could be part of the problem.
Once he was home, Jon figured he’d be able to get his head on straight. But when he thought about getting back to Virginia, he didn’t think about hitting the bar his first night and seeing who he could bring home, like Zane probably would.
Jon wasn’t going back to his wife like Grant was, or to his kids like Thom. When Jon thought of getting off that bus on base, getting into his truck and heading somewhere for his first night back, he thought of Ali. Pictured driving to her house. Knocking on that front door she’d forgotten her key to. Kissing her silly while backing her up all the way to the bedroom where he’d spend the next eight or so hours taking her every way a man could . . .
And now he was hard as a rock. In the middle of the sleeping quarters while surrounded by the guys.
This wasn’t good. He’d had plenty of sex with women over the years, so why was this one different?
It had to be because he’d only had that one night. Usually he’d stick it out for a little while, keeping it casual but monogamous, and then something or another would make him break it off. He’d never had that opportunity with Ali. That time to see the flaws, the insurmountable issues.
Maybe that’s exactly what he needed. More time with her so he could get her out of his system.
His dick sure liked that plan. It hardened to the throbbing point.
“I’m hitting the showers.” Jon announced it to the room in general.
He and his team worked opposite hours of most of the rest of the camp since their missions often depended upon the cover of darkness, but the post-op bullshit had taken so long it was now mid-morning. He hoped to God the showers were empty this time of day. He needed to relieve this pressure somehow and even with a shower curtain to shield him, he’d prefer privacy while he did it.
Chapter Eight
‡
The door swung wide and the warm glow of the lights inside flooded the doorstep where Ali stood thinking that she should have remembered to wear gloves.
“Ali, hi.” Darci smiled. “Happy New Year!”
“Happy New Year to you too.” Ali accepted Darci’s greeting and hug with a smile, all while balancing the tray of cookies in one cold hand. “Where should I put dessert?”
“On the counter is great. Thanks.” Darci backed away from the door. She eyed the tray covered in clear wrap as Ali walked by. “Mmm, those look really good.”
“Thanks.” Ali had become quite a baker, thanks to the lack of other distractions in her life—such as a boyfriend.
She’d also put on another five pounds. One of the unsung gifts of the holiday season. Tomorrow, along with the rest of the country making resolutions, she’d go on a diet. Until then, there was no use worrying about it. It was a holiday.
Darci, of course, never seemed to gain weight for any reason. Ali pocketed her envy and took in Darci’s slinky black dress and higher-than-high heels. “You look nice.”
“Thank you. I figure you can’t go wrong with basic black, right?”
Ali raised one brow. “Right.”
Not if basic black was also cut low in the front to emphasize what little Dari had there, pushed up to the limit by a bra that was working miracles.
Her best friend was dressed to impress. To impress who was the question. Ali intended to find out. “So, who’s coming?”
Darci’s grin told her the answer. Ali’s eyes popped wider. “No.”
“Yes.” She nodded, grinning wider. “They landed in the States yesterday and they should be back to base in time to get here for tonight.”
As her brain swirled with a kaleidoscope of thoughts and emotions, Ali knew she had to say something in response to the news that Darci had dropped like a bomb. All she could manage was, “Wow.”
The siblings had been hinting that there was a good chance Rick’s former team would be stateside some time around now, but even as a civilian Ali had been friends with Darci long enough to know scheduled troop movements changed often, sometimes delayed by weeks. Maybe that was on purpose, to keep everyone in the dark since theoretically no one should know when or where the units were traveling.
It seemed to Ali a whole lot of people knew, at least general information, if not specifics.
None of that mattered. What did matter—what had Ali’s heart suddenly pounding—was that she might be seeing Jon again.
It had been six months, almost to the day. She hadn’t heard hide nor hair from him since he’d nodded goodbye to her at the front door on July fourth.
How was she going to act around him? Casual was a given, but should she be aloof and uninterested? Or flirty and fun but without any expectations? It seemed beyond her to be around the man who still affected her as if she’d been with him only yesterday.
Six freaking months. Her body and mind should have moved on. But the dreams she occasionally had featuring one sexy dark-haired man and his soaring angel wings of ink—dreams that had her waking feeling needy—told another story.
“Drink?” Darci’s question dragged Ali away from the turmoil happening in her own head. “We have wine, champagne, beer. Soda, vodka, bourbon and some expensive scotch that smells like rotting dirt that Rick likes.”
Ali eyed all the bottles on the counter and the big stainless bowl she’d seen Darci use for salad, which tonight contained ice and assorted white wine, champagne and beer bottles. “Champagne is good. Thanks.”
In light of who was coming, Ali would need a big one, and for Darci to keep ’em coming.
Like a bartender, Darci stood on the other side of the kitchen island behind rows of clean glasses and reached for the open bottle of champagne. “Rick wanted to bring the big red cooler inside, but I told him no. So don’t worry, we have plenty of everything on hand. It’s just outside on the deck.
“This looks much nicer for a party. And I can help keep an eye out and refill it, if you need.”
“Thank you. See? I knew a woman would understand.” Darci shook her head. “Men.”
Men, indeed. Ali wished she had a man to be exasperated about. Even if he were a brother. Especially if he was a brother who came with a posse of hot best friends like Rick did.
Standing on the other side of the island where Darci had the bar set up, Ali glanced across the kitchen at the clock on the microwave. “Wh
at time are you expecting . . . everyone else?”
“We told people around seven-thirty. Rick invited a couple of guys from the power plant too, so it wouldn’t be a pitifully small party if our surprise guests somehow didn’t make it. But last reports looked pretty good they’ll be here.” Darci grinned.
Ali processed that information. She’d arrived a little early in case Darci and Rick had needed help setting up. It wasn’t lost on her she’d yet to offer any help as she noticed one host seemed to be missing. “Where’s Rick?”
“Out buying more ice.” Darci handed Ali the glass she’d just poured, and grabbed the second. “It’s not like we could ask the guys to stop at the store on the way over and get us ice after they only stepped foot on US soil less than twenty-four hours ago.”
That comment brought Ali’s attention back to the subject of Jon, and her mixed feelings over seeing him. “So it’s certain then? They’re definitely coming tonight?”
“Yeah, I think so. I heard Rick talking on the phone this morning and it sounded like the guys were boarding a plane up north somewhere to get back here. Unless something happened that they couldn’t take off, they should be back by now. The single guys like Zane and Jon, should all be here, but I’m not sure about the guys with families. I’m sure Grant’s wife has plans. And Thom might want to go straight to see his kids.” Darci shrugged.
Ali tried to process that she would indeed be seeing her one-night stand again. Fresh from deployment. Her heart thundered as she wondered if a second one-night encounter six months after the first still counted as a one-night stand or not.
Would it be for only one night this time? Jon wasn’t going to be on his way out of the country like last time. Would he want something more?
Ali knew from being friends with Darci that even when not deployed, Rick had traveled a lot. He said it was for training, but they suspected that sometimes it was for missions. Missions the general public wasn’t meant to know about. On those occasions, even close family members were kept in the dark.
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