“Ghost One’s spotted movement.” Ernie’s voice snapped him back to the task at hand.
“Are the cut-off teams in place?” asked TJ.
“Negative, Ghost has eyes on five people gathering around a vehicle in front of the hacienda.”
“The Butcher’s about to leave the building,” hissed Rick.
“The boss wants us to roll now,” added Ernie.
“Roger. Mike, you and Axe are on point,” ordered TJ. “We’ll take down the targets at the car and then move inside.”
Mike unsnapped the lead from Axe’s harness, releasing him. He felt the dog tense with excitement. “Axe, wait.” Gripping his carbine tightly, he waited for TJ to tap him on the shoulder.
***
As Mike moved through the front gates of the hacienda, he spotted a group of men clustered around a black SUV. The car’s doors were open.
“Hands up, hands up!” TJ bellowed.
The men went for their weapons and Mike fired. His carbine bucked against his shoulder as his target dropped. Why did they always try to fight, he thought as he engaged another gunman. “Axe, down,” he ordered as an AK blasted. The dog dropped to his belly.
Ernie and Rick made short work of the other cartel thugs. Then, as a team, they moved forward and checked the bodies.
“Vehicle’s empty. Butcher must be inside,” said TJ.
With the Chief off his shoulder and Axe by his side, Mike crept up the stairs. “OK boy, search.”
The dog wagged his tail. Trained to locate, and if necessary, neutralize any potential threats, he trotted forward.
Weapon held ready Mike followed him into the foyer. Axe ignored the staircase that led to the second level and stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. Halting beside his partner Mike scanned the ornate fixtures and whispered, “Guy sure likes to throw some cash around.”
“Perks of the business.” TJ leant across and checked the door handle. As it turned a gun fired. Bullets punched through the wood next to his face. “We’ve got a live one.”
As Rick and Ernie joined them in the foyer Mike returned fire. “Need a breach!”
“Heads up.” Rick tossed him an explosive charge.
He caught it and stuck it to the door. “Take cover.” He yanked the initiator. As the fuse spluttered he pulled Axe back and placed his gloved hands over the dog’s ears.
The explosive charge detonated with a loud bang. The doors flew open with a blast of smoke and debris.
“Axe, hunt.” The dog dashed into the room, closely followed by TJ. Readying his weapon, Mike charged into the room on their heels.
TJ’s suppressed weapon snapped. An armed gunman took a bullet to the face. Mike spotted another man behind a desk. The Butcher. His pistol was aimed at them. His head filled Mike’s sights.
A flash of fur and teeth flew through the air. Axe clamped onto the cartel boss’s arm, dragging him to the ground. The Butcher screamed as the dog bit down, hard.
TJ was the first to reach him. He jabbed the suppressor of his carbine in his face and yelled, “Shut the fuck up!”
Mike kicked the pistol clear. “Axe, release.”
“Roll over. Face down,” ordered TJ.
Reluctantly, the overweight Mexican rolled onto his front. Every time he lifted his head Axe snarled, savagely.
“Keep that beast away from me,” whimpered the Butcher.
Mike checked the Mexican’s arm as he cuffed him. Axe had left puncture marks but hadn’t drawn blood. “Shut up or I’ll let him eat it.”
Ernie stuck his head into the office. “TJ, we’ve got a problem. Bravo squad has spotted two vehicles inbound on our position.”
“They didn’t intercept?”
“Negative, they’re still short of the cut-off location.”
“Shit, what about Charlie?”
“They’re moving to our location now, ETA five minutes.”
The Butcher laughed. “You’ve bitten off more than you can chew culero, my people are going to kill you all.”
“Axe, guard.”
A low rumbling growl silenced the Mexican.
TJ removed his helmet and rubbed his scalp. “ETA of the vehicles?”
“Under a minute.”
“I say we hit ‘em from the front door and hold them off till Charlie gets here,” suggested Rick.
“Axe can guard the Butcher,” added Mike.
“Let’s do it.” TJ fastened his helmet as he dashed back out into the foyer. He knelt a few feet from the open doorway and aimed his weapon at the front gate.
Ernie and Rick followed suit. The Corpsman smashed out one of the tall windows that framed the doorway so he could fire through it.
“Axe, guard.” Mike poked the corpulent cartel boss with the toe of his boot. “I wouldn’t move if I were you. He’ll tear out your throat.”
The dog gave a blood-curdling growl as if to emphasize the point.
Joining the others, Mike swapped out the magazine on his carbine. They’d killed the lights to hide from the approaching vehicles.
Ten long seconds later a black Chevy SUV roared through the front gates, skidding to a stop on the manicured lawn. The SEALs hit it with a devastating fusillade of fire. Windows shattered as their bullets shredded most of the occupants.
At least two men managed to escape. They returned fire as the second SUV shuddered to a halt behind the first. Mike switched his aim and pumped a half dozen rounds into it. His bullets skipped off the glass without penetrating. “Number two is armored.”
An AK barked and bullets hit the doorway forcing TJ back as men spilled from the new vehicle.
“Fall back!” TJ yelled.
Ernie went first, followed by Rick. The pair took up positions at the door to a study, allowing TJ and Mike to move back to where Axe guarded the Butcher.
“Where the hell is Charlie?” screamed Rick as he covered them from the doorway.
Bullets smacked into the hacienda as the men outside unleashed everything they had on the SEALs.
“They’re close, real close.” Ernie wrenched open a door at the back of the study. “We can get out here.”
“Grab the Butcher,” said TJ.
Mike hauled the Mexican off the floor. “Axe, with me.”
A volley of bullets shattered one of the office’s windows. The Butcher broke free of Mike and dove through the opening.
“Oh shit.” Mike hurtled through the window after him. As he crashed onto the gravel footpath, his weapon was flung clear and the Butcher sprinted away.
Stumbling to his feet, Mike spotted two men headed toward him, guns raised. Snatching up his carbine, he fired, hitting one of them. Time slowed as he realized that the second man had the drop on him. He looked directly into the gaping black muzzle of the man’s pistol while he tried to bring his weapon to bear.
A flash of brown fur leaped from the hacienda. Axe hit the gunman, his jaws snapping closed on his arm as they collapsed to the ground. The pistol roared. Axe yelped.
Struggling to his feet, the shooter pushed the dog clear. As he raised his pistol to finish Axe, Mike fired. The carbine bucked in his shoulder. The gunman toppled over, dead.
Oblivious to Charlie squad’s arrival, and elimination of the remaining gunmen, Mike sprinted to Axe’s side and focused on the gaping gunshot wound in his partner’s hindquarter. Tearing a field dressing from his pouch, he pressed the pad against the bloody hole. “Stay with me Axe. Stay with me boy.”
The dog looked up at him with trusting eyes.
Mike struggled to control his emotions as he fought to stem the flow of blood.
Rick knelt next to him and dropped his medical kit to the ground. “Keep the pressure on.” He pulled a razor-sharp knife from his vest and shaved a patch of fur off the Axe’s front leg. He injected a painkiller and inserted an IV line in the exposed vein. Handing the bag of fluid to Mike, Rick inspected the wound. “OK, we’re going to need to plug both sides before we can move him. “Ernie, what’s our ETA on the chopper?�
�
“Ten minutes out. How’s he doing?” the comms guy replied.
Rick nodded and dove back into his medical kit for another bandage.
As Mike stroked Axe’s muzzle he noted the dog’s eyes were glassy from the combined painkiller and blood loss. He ignored the SEALs from Charlie as they ran past to secure the perimeter. The beat of an approaching helicopter’s rotors barely registered. It wasn’t till Axe was in the hands of a USAF MEDEVAC team and the SEALs were extracting that Mike turned to TJ. “What happened to the Butcher?”
“He got away.”
“Damn it, I messed up.”
The Chief grasped his shoulder. “Not at all, bud. The guy who shot Axe, the one you slotted, that was Juan Barbosa, the Butcher’s brother and right hand man. You and Axe took down a high value target.”
“Yeah, let’s hope Axe makes it.” Mike wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
“He’s a goddamn frog dog brother, he’ll make it.”
Chapter Two
The sun had barely crept above the horizon as Mike watched the USAF medical staff unload Axe from the C-130 cargo plane. The dog had been unconscious since Rick had sedated him and Mike had not left his side.
He handed his weapons and ammunition to TJ, before joining the dog in an ambulance. It was a short ride from Coronado to the veterinary facility at Marine Corps Air Station Miramar. Upon arrival, the staff were ready and waiting.
A nurse dressed in green scrubs blocked Mike from following the stretcher into the operating room “Sir, you can’t go any further than this. You’ll have to wait out here.” She must have read the grief on his face as she added. “I’ll have one of the girls get you a coffee. And as soon as he’s stable I’ll bring you in, OK?”
Mike nodded and collapsed into a seat in the waiting room. He sat quietly for a moment. Then it hit him, he was still wearing his body armor and helmet. Stripping off the items, he dumped them onto the seat next to him.
A young civilian receptionist offered him a cup of hot coffee.
“Do you need anything else?” she asked softly.
He shook his head and accepted the coffee gratefully.
“They’re going to be in surgery for a few hours. So, you might want to duck away, grab a shower and a change clothes.”
Mike glanced down at his uniform; it was covered in dried blood, Axe’s blood. “No, I’m staying here till he’s out.”
She smiled, gave him a knowing nod and returned to behind the counter.
Finishing the coffee, he leaned back, trying to get comfortable in the hard plastic chair. He glanced up at the wall clock and noted the time. It was five after seven in the morning. Twenty minutes, he’d only been in the surgery for twenty minutes. It felt like Axe had been in there for hours.
Exhaling, he closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the wall. He really should give Stacey a call and let her know he was back. No, he couldn’t deal with her right now. He hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours and she would be focused on her launch.
A gentle nudge woke Mike. His eyes snapped open and he jolted upright.
“Hey, brother,” said TJ.
He checked the clock. Shit, it was nearly ten. Somehow, despite the stress he’d managed almost three hours of sleep. Spotting Rick at the counter talking to the receptionist, he leaped out of his seat. “Is he out of surgery?”
Rick turned to face him. “Not yet, bud.”
“It shouldn’t be much longer,” added the receptionist.
The door to the waiting room opened and Ernie joined the rest of the squad. He handed Mike his cell phone and a takeout box. “Thought you might want some breakfast. Any news?”
Mike forced a smile as he took the items and resumed his seat. “Thanks, no news yet, he’s still in surgery.” He checked his phone; thirteen missed calls, all from Stacey. Before he could call her back, the smell of the food in the box hit him and his stomach growled. He hadn’t realized he was starving. Opening the container revealed a breakfast burrito. Stacey had waited this long, what was a few more minutes.
As Mike devoured the spicy Mexican food, Ernie grinned. “Maria dropped them round.”
“That woman is an angel,” added TJ as he took a seat.
“An angel who gave birth to devil spawn,” grunted Ernie as he took the chair opposite Mike. “You know what they did last night?”
“No, what?” he asked before taking another bite.
“They cut the TV power cord and set the sofa on fire.”
TJ frowned. “They OK?”
“Of course. They’re the spawn of Satan. So, yeah, they’re fine.”
TJ winked. “I think that might be the influence of their father.”
Mike wiped his chin. “Hey, thanks for coming down guys.”
“Bro, Axe is our team-mate too,” Rick said, abandoning his pursuit of the receptionist and taking a seat facing Mike.
As he tossed the empty box in the trash his phone started ringing. He glanced at the screen. It was Stacey. He answered it. “Hey babe, look–”
“Don’t ‘hey babe’ me. Where the hell are you?”
“At the base. Axe has been–”
“You’re at the base! Have you forgotten this is the most important day of my life?” she shrieked.
Grimacing, Mike angled the speaker away from his ear. “Babe, babe, listen to me.”
“No, you listen to me, Michael Saunders. You get yourself over here now or we’re finished.”
“Stacey, please. Axe has been shot, he’s in surgery.”
There was a pause. “Michael, he's a dog. This agency is my future. And what I'm hearing is that you think a dog is more important than my future?”
Sighing, Mike placed a clenched fist against his forehead. “I can't leave until I know he's going to be OK.”
“Then you and I are done.”
“Stacey, don't be like that… Stacey?” Mike checked the phone. She had terminated the call. He glanced at his team members. All of them were looking away, pretending not to have listened. “She just broke up with me.”
Before anyone could respond a man strode into the room wearing bloodied scrubs.
Mike dropped the phone to his side and rose. “Is he going to be OK?”
The veterinarian nodded. “The short answer is he’ll live.”
“And the long answer?” asked TJ.
“I’m not sure if he’ll ever walk properly again.”
Rick leant forward. “But, he's out of danger?”
“Yes, he’s waking now.”
Mike fought back tears. “Can I see him?”
The vet glanced at TJ who wore a stern expression. “Yes, but only for a moment. He needs to rest.”
Mike followed the vet through to the recovery room. Axe lay in a wide cage with the door open. His rear leg had been shaved. The angry red wound had been stapled shut.
When the dog saw him his ears rose and he attempted to sit.
“Axe, down, stay.” Mike squatted and patted the dog. A tear ran down his cheek as he ruffled the ears. “I thought I'd lost you boy.”
Axe lifted his head and licked Mike’s hand. Then he lowered his head and closed his eyes.
“He’s lost a lot of blood and needs to rest,” said the vet.
Mike kissed the dog’s head. “I'll come back soon.” Blinking hard he gave him one last pat before returning to the waiting room and the concerned expressions of the rest of his team.
“All things considered… he looks good,” said Mike as he reached for his phone.
TJ clasped his shoulder. “Who ya calling, slick?”
“Stacey. If I rush, I can still help her set up for the function.”
“Nope. Not happening.” TJ snatched the phone from his hand. “You're heading back to the team room for a shower. Afterward, we're running through a debrief. You can have your phone back when we're done.”
Lacking the energy to argue, Mike followed the team out to the parking lot. Spotting Ernie's SUV, he climbed in the ba
ck. TJ was right. The op had been a cluster fuck, a debrief might provide insight as to why.
***
Hot water streamed over Mike's head and down his aching back. Bracing against the wall he let the warmth soak into every muscle. Finally cleansed of the grime and fatigue of the last twenty-four hours, he dried himself, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, and joined the others in the team room. “We gonna do this debriefing or what?”
TJ lifted a cooler onto a bench seat and opened it. He pulled out a can of Coors and handed it to Mike. “Debrief can wait. We need to lift a beer for Axe.”
He offered one to Rick, but the Corpsman waved it away. Instead, he opened his locker and rummaged inside. “If we're raising a drink for Axe it should be something a little stiffer.” He revealed a bottle of Pyrat Rum and four empty 40 mm grenade casings. “Our boy deserves the best yeah?” He placed them on the bench next to the cooler.
Mike nodded. “The best for the best. Although, I'm going to chase that with one of TJ's beers.”
Ernie added a bottle of Gran Dovejo Reposado Tequila to the mix. “Not before you have a shot of this.”
“I didn't realize I was rolling with a squad of alcoholics,” TJ said as he splashed rum into each of the metal casings and all four men lifted them toward the ceiling.
“For Axe, the best sidekick a SEAL could have,” said Mike.
“A goddamn frog dog through and through,” added TJ.
“Axe!” they echoed.
They downed their shots, then Mike took a swig from his beer as TJ refilled the casings with a healthy slug of tequila.
“I've got a toast,” said Rick.
“Fire away,” said TJ.
“To Mike and his freedom. Welcome back to single life, brother.”
Mike frowned as he downed the tequila shot. “TJ, I need my phone back. I've got to call Stacey.”
The grizzled Chief shook his head. “You don't wanna do that, bud. She's not right for you.”
Mike contemplated the statement as the alcohol warmed his stomach. “I guess not. I mean, she dumped me because I couldn't make her launch party.”
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