by Cat Johnson
John raised a brow. Training site. Tonight? After a long flight from Iraq to Germany and then ten hours from Germany to North Carolina, he was about to be whisked immediately off to training. It had to be a test to see what he was made of, to see how he functioned on the fly with no preparation.
Not a problem. Sleep deprivation he could handle. He had been trained by the best in that area—the Iraqi insurgents. Nighttime was their favorite time to play. John could nap for ten minutes and then go for twenty more hours. He wasn’t surprised Miller would try something like this. John’s adrenaline began to pump. Bring it on.
Miller led the way to the parking lot and his vehicle. No surprise that when the man clicked a key fob, the lights on a plain black van blinked. Miller even drove a black vehicle.
As they walked up to the rear of the long van, John turned to the commander. He held up his duffle. “Sir. I hate to break it to you, but my duffle is filled with nothing but year-old camouflage ACUs and a few tan T-shirts.” Perhaps it was the exhaustion, but John had felt he had to say it.
In fact, after a year in Ramadi they were getting so worn, John should be throwing those uniforms out and getting new ones. He’d look extra shabby next to Miller’s team, but besides that, there wasn’t one piece of black clothing in there.
Miller paused and then broke out laughing. “Don’t worry about it, Blake. Your new uniform is waiting for you at the training site.”
It turned out a whole lot of shit was waiting for John when they finally arrived after a long drive that twisted and turned from the main highway onto roads that John doubted were on any map.
At the training site buried deep in the North Carolina woods, John stood under an outdoor covered pavilion, kind of like the ones picnic areas usually featured. In front of him was a table covered in what apparently was his stuff—at least his to use for however long he was here. State-of-the-art weapons that nearly made him cream in his pants, communications devices, surveillance and GPS equipment worthy of a sci-fi novel.
Then there were the six men dressed in, no surprise, all black. It was called the Black OPS after all, and now John was sure he knew why.
“You going to be okay here?”
John glanced up from the array of mind-boggling items and at Miller. “Uh, yes, sir.”
Miller laughed. “Was that a question or an answer, soldier?”
He resisted the urge to shrug.
“I’m not sure I’m familiar with this particular type of equipment, sir. In the world I come from, we’re happy when our walkie-talkies work.” John might as well have been transported to the starship Enterprise and told to take the bridge. That’s how different the stuff set out in front of him was from what he was used to.
“That’s what Coleman’s here for.” Miller thrust a similarly black-clad man in front of him. “Matt here is the team computer god and technology guru. He’ll fix you right up.”
Before John could even respond, Miller was gone and John was left to don his loaner gear under the watchful eye of one of Miller’s mysterious team members.
The man Hank Miller had introduced to him as Matt Coleman, the supposed team computer god, stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Blake.”
“You too.” John shook his hand and then stood there like an idiot waiting to be told what to do since he was totally out of his element here.
Oh well. He’d fail this test, whatever it was, then go see Maureen, then head back to Germany. Why worry about something he couldn’t control? “What now?”
Coleman handed him something that looked like a hearing aid. “Put this in and we’ll test it.”
The device was so small John nearly dropped it, but he managed to slip it into his ear.
Coleman clicked on what looked like a tiny laptop computer then spoke. “Team check in.”
“Bull.” John jumped as a deep voice filled his ear.
“Jack.”
“Jimmy.”
“Williams.”
“BB.”
Every name came through with a distinctly different voice.
“How many did you hear, Blake?”
Shit. He was supposed to be counting? John did a quick review in his head. “Uh, five names.”
Coleman nodded. “Good. Thanks, guys. We’ll be ready to go in five.”
“Roger that, Matt.” The unidentified disembodied voice filled his ear.
John touched the earpiece with a fingertip, pressing it farther into his ear canal, figuring it was more likely he’d lose it than it get stuck in his ear. Who knew how much the damn thing cost? Then he glanced at Coleman’s ears. “Where’s yours?”
The man was obviously talking to and hearing the team, but John couldn’t see any device. Maybe they had them built into their flak jackets? That would be cool. Save the discomfort of wearing it in your ear.
Matt hesitated, looking reluctant to answer, which only made John want to know even more. Seriously, how secret could it be?
“Okay, Blake, here’s the deal. You’re going to see and use a lot of shit here you’ve never even dreamed existed. And once you leave, that’s where it has to all stay—in your dreams. Got it?”
“Of course.”
“All right. We’ve all had communications devices surgically implanted in our ears, kind of like the cochlear implants the hearing impaired use. Since you don’t have that, you’re using a temporary device for this op.”
John nodded and tried not to look shocked. These guys went in for surgery and got implants just to be on this team? That was some hardcore shit. John wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or terrified. He was feeling a little of both, actually, as well as curious. “Where’s the mic?”
“It’s all in one.” Coleman handed him a black vest. “Better finish suiting up. Team’s waiting.”
He took it and frowned. John thought he’d been impressed with the communicator, but he was even more surprised by the body armor they’d given him to wear. He could barely feel the weight of the thin, light vest.
“This thing is bulletproof?” he asked doubtfully as he fastened it.
Coleman nodded. “Yup. For everything except armor-piercing rounds, but we’re working on that. I got to see the prototype for one that stops anything, but it was bulky and heavy.”
This guy should have worn the armor John had been subjected to daily in Iraq—then he could compare what was or was not bulky and heavy.
Coleman grinned in his direction as he worked on the computer again. “I know what the deal was for you in Iraq. But the reality is, of all of the many things that are most likely to kill us here on the teams, an armor-piercing sniper’s bullet is pretty low on the list.”
That was really encouraging. Not.
Two men walked up to them in the dark. Since they also wore black from head to toe, including facemasks, John wouldn’t have noticed them had they not been arguing the entire way there.
“I’m telling you that guy was asking for it,” one said in a Southern drawl so thick you could cut it with a knife. John immediately thought of Morales and his Texas accent and felt homesick even though he was closer to home here than he would have been in Germany. But then again, home is where the heart is.
“And I’m saying a fellow can’t go ’round punching every man who looks at his girl,” a guy with a twin voice and accent proclaimed.
Without even looking up from whatever he was doing on the laptop, Coleman called out, “Hey, you two Gordons. Stop fighting in front of the new guy.”
They were referring to him as the new guy?
“Don’t mind them, Blake. They’re brothers. They can’t help themselves.” Coleman put the computer back into a pouch at his side and indicated the slightly broader brother of the two. “So this is Jimmy Gordon. He’s heading up tonight’s training.”
“Good to meet you.” Jimmy extended an arm and shook John’s hand. “And you’ll have to excuse us. A little family disagreement about what our little brother back home should or should not be doing
while we’re not there to keep his ass in line. This here’s my brother Jack.”
Jack nodded his hello and leaned, arms crossed, against the table.
“Matt here taking good care of you, Blake?” Jimmy asked.
John nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Beneath his facemask, he smiled. “No formalities around here. Save your sirs for Commander Miller.” Jimmy looked John up and down. “You ready, Blake?”
He was probably about as ready as he was going to be, so he nodded. “Yes, s—” John caught himself before the whole sir came out.
Jimmy didn’t comment on it. Instead, the swaggering southern brother was all business now. He turned to Coleman. “Matt, call in Bull, BB and Trey. Let’s get Blake here briefed so we can get this show on the road. It’s gonna be a long night. Might as well get it started sooner rather than later.”
Coleman nodded.
While John waited for the others to filter over and assemble, he had a moment to marvel at the team dynamics. No one used their ranks. Except for Commander Miller, they were all considered equals on the team, no matter what rank they had achieved before being recruited. Miller had explained that to him already. For a career Army man like John, it seemed just plain strange.
“All right, Blake. This is your show tonight.”
John raised a brow at Jimmy. “Me?”
“Yup. Here is your team. Matt will be on the console. Anything you need that involves technology or a computer, he can provide it for you. The big boy here is Bull. He’s our explosives expert. Remember that. He will likely be your best friend tonight. Trey here is our language expert. You may be needing him too because you just never know what will be thrown at you.” Jimmy halted a second. “That was a big-ass hint right there, Blake. Make sure you take note of it.”
John’s brows shot up. “Okay. Uh, thanks.”
Language expert? What the hell?
“But of course, it all depends on how good you are,” Jimmy continued and grinned at him, making John wonder what the hell this assignment entailed that he would need a bomb expert and a language specialist to complete it.
The training leader went on. “BB here is the team’s pretty face, but don’t let that fool you. He’s also our number one underwater guy. We may be in the woods here, but there are a few big-ass lakes around, and that is the last hint you’re getting from me. Next, you’ve already met my brother Jack. His specialty, besides cracking bad jokes, is hand-to-hand combat. I’m a sharpshooter myself. You’re to use all of us and our collective skills to complete this assignment.”
Great. The question remained, what the hell was this assignment?
“Matt. Map, please.”
At Jimmy’s command, Coleman unrolled a map onto the field table, which now that John was all suited up, was empty except for the battery-operated lantern.
John leaned forward as Jimmy tapped one finger.
“We are here. We need to get there.” He moved his finger to a point in the far corner of the map. “Between here and there can be anything you’d expect the baddies to throw at you—hidden IEDs, armed insurgents, possibly an ambush and a few more surprises. Your job is to get us from here to there unharmed.”
John leaned back and let out a breath. He was in the middle of the freaking woods somewhere in North Carolina where he didn’t know the terrain on a dark and nearly moonless night. He took stock of his assets. He had the stars since the night was clear. He had a map. He had a team of trained men who were experts in their respective fields. More importantly, he had good instincts and his experience from Iraq.
“How long do I have?”
Jimmy smiled at him. “As long as you need and can avoid capture.”
John nodded. Let the games begin.
Chapter Seventeen
It was the fourteenth. John had said he would be stateside on the fourteenth and call as soon as he could. But still no call.
Maureen had barely gotten through the day at work. Now, as the hours ticked by and it got later and closer to midnight, she realized he would not be calling—at least not today.
Maybe he was still traveling. Maybe the plane got in really late and he was afraid to call at this hour, thinking she would be asleep.
She had done all she could. He had her home, cell and work numbers. But not knowing which one he’d choose to call, Maureen hadn’t gone to the bathroom all day at work. She had been afraid to leave her desk and miss a call on her desk phone in case he didn’t try her cell. At home she carried her portable house phone and her cell with her all over her apartment so she wouldn’t risk missing his call. She was acting crazy. She knew it, but still couldn’t help it.
This waiting was horrible, and as bad as it seemed to say, it was almost easier with him in Iraq. At least she knew he wouldn’t call from there unless they arranged the time online.
Finally, she gave up and went to bed thinking she would be blissfully unaware of the painfully slow passing of the hours while asleep. Then hopefully when she woke up John would call and all would be well. She had to believe that. The question was would she be able to sleep?
Maureen spent a restless night tossing and turning and not sleeping while watching the digital clock mark the passing of time. Finally, at about dawn, she must have dozed off. The last thing she saw in her insomniac state was the faint glow of dawn creeping in her window.
A loud ringing startled her awake. She sat bolt upright in bed, the sunlight now streaming brightly through the cracks between the slats of the window blinds. It took her tired brain a moment to realize the noise wasn’t her alarm clock, but instead her phone.
It took another moment to get her eyes focused enough to find the receiver tangled in the sheets of the bed where it had fallen off her chest while she slept.
Panic filled her when she thought she might not get to it before voicemail picked up. Finally, her hand hit the phone. She fumbled and pushed the answer button. “Hello?”
“Maureen?”
Hearing his voice, actually clear and static free and on the same continent as her caused her heart to pound. “John.”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
Maureen laughed, bubbling halfway between tears and smiles at being able to talk to him while knowing that—for now anyway—he was safe and relatively close by. “Wow, your voice is so clear it’s like you’re in the next room.”
Was he? Wouldn’t that be wonderful to find him standing in the hallway outside her apartment?
She was just swinging one foot to the floor to go check when she heard his deep laugh through the receiver. “It’s nice to hear your voice so clearly too, but sadly, I’m not in the next room. Sorry. I wish I was.”
Her hopes deflated. “That’s okay. I was worried when I didn’t hear from you last night. Did your flight get in late?”
He hesitated. “I, uh, just got to the base this minute. I got in the door and dumped my duffle on the ground and called you as soon as I could get to the phone.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you did. But you’re on base? I kind of assumed you were coming back to the States on leave.”
“Um, not exactly. I will be able to get a few days off to see you, but I also had some training I had to attend. It is so good to talk to you, Maureen.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Why was John changing the subject? He sounded nervous. It was weird.
Maybe she was over thinking things. He had been traveling, possibly all day and night. Of course he would be exhausted, and still he had called her. That meant something, didn’t it?
“Can you tell me where you are?”
“On a base down south.”
That was vague and very evasive. She felt the pounding of her heart clear through to her throat, making it difficult to swallow or talk. “Oh. For how long?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll tell you as soon as I know.”
He definitely sounded strange. Maureen prodded a bit more. “So I guess you don’t know when we can see each other?”
&
nbsp; “Not yet. The moment I do know, I’ll call you. I promise.”
“Okay.” Maureen began to shake as a horrible, disgusting, depressing thought hit her. Her throat felt as if someone was strangling her as she steeled her nerves to ask the question that screamed through her brain. “You’re married, aren’t you?”
“What?” He laughed. “No. Of course not. Why would you ask that?”
“I don’t know what else to think, John. If you’re not married, do you have a girlfriend here?”
“Maureen, I told you I wasn’t married or dating anyone. God, you can ask Jazzy if you don’t believe me.”
She should be relieved, but somehow she wasn’t. Why was he being so uncertain about when he’d be seeing her, and what he was so busy doing? A sob escaped her. “Then you just don’t want to see me. It’s okay. Just tell me. I can take it.”
“Maureen. No. That is not it. I want to see you more than anything else in the world.”
“But you’re being so evasive and secretive—”
“Maureen, listen. I’m here for something so confidential I don’t even know the details. If I could tell you more, I would. I probably shouldn’t have even told you that much, but I don’t want you thinking crazy stuff.” He let out a frustrated-sounding burst of air. “You know what? Fuck it. I’ll tell them I’m done with this and just come to New York if that’s what it’ll take to make you happy.”
“No.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I’ll be okay. I understand if it’s your work. I’m overemotional, I guess. I didn’t sleep well. I’m sorry.”
“Believe me, baby.” His voice softened as he called her baby for the first time. “I’m going to see you while I’m here in the States. I don’t care if I have to fly in and out of New York in one night, I will see you before I leave this country.”
There was such determination in John’s voice that Maureen smiled as the tears blurred her vision.
“I’d like that a lot.” Not the part about him leaving the country, which she didn’t even want to think about, but the fact he would see her no matter what.
“Good.” He let out a soft groan. The sound sent a tingle through her core. “Shit. I should go.”