Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Protecting Heartbeat (Kindle Worlds Novella) (SEALed Fate Book 4)

by LeTeisha Newton

  “Come on, baby. Tell me where you are,” Welsh demanded.

  “Here,” she cried out, opening the closet.

  Welsh looked different, his face covered in black paint with slashes of green, and he had a black band around his neck two buttons protruding over his jugular vein. He was holding an assault rifle and had a handgun strapped to his leg.

  “We need to move, okay? I want you to put some pants and shoes on as quickly as you can. A jacket, too, if you have one. Go.”

  Rose stumbled, picking her way to her bed after grabbing some jeans. She plucked the glass out of her feet and slid her pants over her legs. “What’s happening?”

  He shook his head. “Rebel attack. The site wasn’t as secure as we’d hoped. We need to move the Special Operation Surgical Team and MSF doctors out of here, and quickly.” Rose was already putting on her shoes when Welsh pressed a button on the black strip around his neck. “I’ve got her, and we’re coming now. Keep it clear for me.”

  “I’m ready,” Rose told him. Her injuries burned under the jeans, and she cringed knowing she was adding foreign material to the cuts she would have to clean later, but for now she needed to stay alive.

  “Stay behind me and hold on to my weapon strap. You do not let it go, do you understand me?”

  Rose nodded, shaking. “I-I won’t.”

  Welsh stepped close, swamping her in his dangerous scent. His eyes were that of a warrior, hard and glinting, but it made her feel safe. He’d get her out of here, she knew it. Letting go of his rifle with one hand, he lifted his hand to trace her cheek with his thumb.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m your shield.”

  Rose swallowed, trapped in his gaze. Time slowed, for just a moment, in the center of a battle breezing around her. Here she could breathe, could think. She understood dangerous situations, and with her expertise, she could help. She wouldn’t slow him down.

  “I can do it,” she told him.

  “I have no doubt.”

  His smile was soft, but his lips were softer, barely ghosting over hers. The brief connection curled her toes.

  “Don’t let go of me,” he warned.

  “I won’t.”

  Welsh spun around and she gripped the thick, black carrying belt attached to his rifle. When he lifted his rifle, resting the butt of the weapon against the pocket in his shoulder and his cheek along the top of the stock, he went silent. The lights had been cut, and they exited her room into a silent hallway. Welsh hovered close to the wall, stopping at each crossroads and to check each direction before he signaled for them to keep going. Rose’s heart was in her throat. She was scared out of her mind but forced her focus to his back.

  “Almost to the stairs,” Welsh whispered, and she nodded.

  She nodded. Not that he could see her. “Okay.”

  She heard buzzing, then static, before Welsh cursed. “Explosive armed, get back!”

  He didn’t give her time to react. Instead, he spun around and jerked her into his arms. Before she could even react, he had her off the ground and running back the way they had come. Fire and heat blasted through the hall, sending missiles of rock and mortar into the air. She buried her face in his shoulder, but it didn’t block out the sound of the blaze roaring just steps away. It reached out like fingers hoping to pull them in, the heat from the flames burning her hair. Smoke billowed, sending her into a fit of coughs.

  “Escape route blocked. Provide another rendezvous point, Glitz.”

  Welsh slid them around a corner and slammed Rose back to the wall. It took the breath out of her, but the way he curled around her, blocking her with his large frame, she knew it wasn’t intentional.

  “Not possible, Glitz. Rear and side both block– Glitz! Heim. Snake. Someone come in. Fuck!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re cut off. We have to get out of here so I can see what’s going on.”

  She nodded, unable to say more as pounding feet sounded on the opposite side of the hallway.

  “Baby, close your eyes.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Trust me,” Welsh told her.

  Rose closed her eyes just as he lifted his rifle.

  Chapter Six

  Squeezing the trigger was never hard for Welsh. He’d done it many times, and each pull was a mechanical study of his training. Breathe, hold, pull, release. He did it in rapid succession, using a three-round burst to take down each enemy. The rebels swarmed them in the hall, scenting blood, and Welsh popped each one as they rounded the corner, never giving them the chance to get close.

  But this time was different.

  Rose was tucked against his chest, jumping when he fired, curling her fists into his flak jacket. His job was to take lives, and hers was to save them. For the first time, he wished he didn’t have blood on his hands. It allowed him to save her now, so he didn’t regret it, but the difference in their jobs stuck out in blood and decay.

  The rebels, clad in camouflage and holding machine guns, dropped like flies, but more came. He couldn’t hold this position long and wait for a connection with his team. They needed to move or he and Rose would be pinned down and facing death.

  “When I say run, I need to you to race to the end of the hall. See that window? We’re going through it,” Welsh told Rose.

  “We’re one the second floor!”

  “Window or bullet. Not really much of a choice. Rather have a broken leg than a cracked skull. Move!”

  Welsh pushed Rose, knowing she was scared but not having time to baby her. He had extra clips, but those would run out soon enough. He needed to get her out and to safety. Pure and fucking simple. He steadied and sent several more bursts of shots at the rebels before he turned and raced after Rose’s retreating form. The window grew with each step, and Welsh kept his body right behind her to block any wayward bullets from striking her. He caught her at the window and wrapped his arms around her, jumping just as a bullet clipped his shoulder.

  “Dammit.”

  Glass shattered and then he only felt air on his face. The scent of gunpowder, dirt, and blood mixed in the air, and he hated it. He knew Rose wouldn’t forget that smell, and she never should have had it touch her. He curved around her body, turning them in the air and angling his weapon toward the fast-retreating window. It wasn’t the best defensible position, but he could at least shoot anyone who appeared.

  “Wel … sh. Co … in.”

  “Tex?” Welsh asked, but the ground was too close. He curled and took the ground hard. The jar was enough to send his teeth clicking together, and he rolled at the end, pulling Rose with him. His back screamed, and he had to blink a few times to clear his head, but he’d gotten them out.

  “Tell me you’re okay,” he prompted. He’d rolled them behind a mass of rubble that had once been the gate to the dormitory.

  “I’m fine. Abrasions, some bruising, and I’m probably going to faint when the adrenaline wears off, but I’m good now.”

  “Have you ever shot a gun?” he asked.

  Rose shook her head. Her pupils were large, and he knew the slight tremor to her hands was from shock. He didn’t have long before she crashed. “I don’t touch guns. I can’t.”

  He sighed and pressed the button on his mic. “Big Boss? Tex?” He needed backup, and he needed it now.

  “Astayqiz.”

  Rose froze, a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression stuck on her face as she stared behind him. Not good.

  “Grab her. Big Boss is in position,” Tex said over the mic.

  Welsh didn’t argue. He leaned forward and took Rose in his arms, shielding her face from what was coming.

  It was silent, no sound cracking the air. Just a body crumpling to the ground. Welsh looked over to find the rebel, dead, with half his head missing. Wherever Big Boss had taken the shot from, he’d done it with precision.

  “The connection between the team has been blocked, and everyone has been separated. I got in through the back chan
nel, but I can’t link you,” Tex explained.

  “Where are they?” Welsh asked. Knowing they couldn’t risk staying out in the open, he gripped Rose to his side and hustled her toward the nearest Humvee. At least she’d be protected from direct shots, and he’d be more mobile.

  “The ambulance. What if I need to triage?” Rose argued.

  Not a bad idea. He raced with her from crop to crop until he got her to the armored ambulance and into the back.

  “Where’s my team, Tex?” Welsh asked again.

  “You’re not going to like the answer.”

  “I’m sure I won’t. But I’m still gonna bring hell down on whoever did this.”

  Chapter Seven

  Rose could barely keep her eyes open, but going to sleep wasn’t an option. Whatever intel Welsh had gotten from his mic had sent him into a vicious spiral. He’d taken one hard look at her, asked her if Lacey was essential to her triage, and raced off to find her EMT. By the time he got back with a shell-shocked but otherwise unharmed Lacey, he wasn’t even speaking. His complete focus was getting into the driver seat, moving them out of the crossfire, and finding his men. Lacey and Rose held on as best they could as Welsh whipped the ambulance into a tight turn and headed out of the compound.

  “Where were you?” Rose asked Lacey. She needed some sort of distraction.

  “I tried to find you. When I saw the destruction to the dormitory, I started looking for anyone I could help get out of sight. Welsh found me near the showering area and brought me here.”

  “How did the rebels find our location?” Rose wondered aloud.

  “It doesn’t make any sense. They don’t typically come in this far where military presence is evident.”

  Lacey was right, and it was what worried Rose, too. Not to mention, the SEAL team Welsh was with had also been assigned to their protection. She’d worked with special forces teams in different countries, but it seemed too convenient after the bombing of an agreed-upon peaceful evacuation.

  “Maybe the attack was planned,” Rose mused.

  “All those people,” Lacey said.

  Rose rubbed her arms, terrified. She knew she and Lacey were lucky to be alive, and they rested that success right at the feet of Welsh. If he hadn’t gotten to them when he did, Rose didn’t want to think about what would happen.

  “You’re bleeding,” Lacey said.

  “Glass from a blast. Help me clean and wrap them up. I have a feeling we’re going to be working soon.”

  It took a few minutes, but they had the wounds as clear as they could get them for now, covered in medicine and wrapped. Just in time, too, as the vehicle screeched to a halt.

  “Snake, I’m coming!” Welsh roared before jumping out of the ambulance.

  Rose could do nothing but listen as gunfire pinged off the armored walls of the vehicle and shuffling feet sent her mind into overdrive. When the doors to the ambulance opened, a bloodied Snake was pushed in by Welsh.

  “All ambushed. Do what you can,” he ordered, then closed the door behind him.

  Lacey and Rose jumped to work. Snake had sustained a topical gunshot graze to his lower right forearm and scrap metal stuck out in places. Rose worked as quickly as she could to get him cleaned up and bandaged. He wasn’t as bad as she thought he’d be.

  “Thank you,” he said when they finished.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Rebel attack was well coordinated, but we led them out of the main compound fast enough. The casualty rate shouldn’t be high.” He sighed. “But it won’t be low, either.”

  “Any idea why they would attack us?”

  “Did you speak to Welsh?” Snake asked.

  “No. He’s been bent on getting you all to safety.” The ambulance swerved again, and Snake hissed as he banged into the side of the gurney.

  But Snake’s non-answer didn’t make Rose feel better at all. At each stop, they had another SEAL to fix up. Cry Baby had knife slices requiring stiches across his chest and abdomen. Glitz had a blow to the head that was most likely a concussion, but he wouldn’t relax until they got the rest of team to safety. He rode next to Welsh, keeping an eye out for the others. They got to Heim, and he was the worst with a broken left arm and fingers. He cursed a blue streak as they worked on him, refusing medication which might compromise his eyes. By the time they got to Big Boss, who had remained unharmed in his sniper perch, Rose was exhausted.

  But none of them would answer her previous question.

  When Welsh pulled them over in an abandoned town and the SEALs got out to talk, Rose stomped her way over to the group.

  “You know something, and you aren’t answering me. Lacey isn’t the only subordinate under me, and when we get back, if we can go back, there are others who will have to follow my direction. If something isn’t safe, I deserve to know.”

  The SEALs turned their attention to her but still said nothing. Welsh paced back and forth, anger radiating from him in waves. There was something going on, and she didn’t get the details. It hurt, in a way she didn’t expect, that he wouldn’t speak to her. She may not have the clearances they had, but it still would have been nice to be trusted. She’d jumped through a window with the man, for fuck’s sake.

  “The attack was coordinated,” Welsh confirmed. But there was something in his tone Rose didn’t like. He looked her straight in the eyes, and she got the sense his anger was not at her but for her. She didn’t know how she could tell, but it made her heart thunder in her chest.

  “Just tell me,” she implored.

  “The patient from the Fuah blast was a plant,” Welsh said.

  She stared at him, not completely comprehending what he was telling her. How did a boy fighting for his life have anything to do with an attack on a MSF compound? No one knew about the SOST attached to them in order to provide aid. It was a closely-guarded secret only a select few outside the compound were aware of. But the way Welsh stared at her didn’t brook any sort of argument.

  “What does my patient have to do with this?” she finally asked.

  “He belonged to the rebellion. He was put on the bus, away from the blast, so he would be transported to the MSF facility. A tracker was on his body. There was an attack here and at the hospital where he was transported.”

  *

  When Rose stumbled back to the ambulance, a trembling hand covering her mouth, Welsh wanted to find the nearest rebel and work out every bit of frustration coursing through his veins. Lacey took Rose in her arms and pulled her into the ambulance, giving the SEAL team the freedom they needed to talk, but Welsh wanted nothing more than to soothe her pain. She’d worked her heart out to save that boy, and it turned out he was nothing more than a way to get her colleagues killed. There was no doubt she blamed herself for what had occurred.

  “So how did they know to put a plant in the bombing?” Glitz asked.

  That was the question. Whoever had done this knew exactly what they were about. And the taste of betrayal was getting too much for Welsh. Keep your head on, Welsh. Dying is not an option. He released a pent-up breath at the thought of Hawk’s, words—no, he wouldn’t do that shit to himself. Hawk wasn’t gone. Just on Medical Leave pending review. Welsh snorted. He knew what that really meant, they all did. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder was nothing to play with, and the Navy couldn’t ignore the way Hawk struggled with sleep. Not after it had been recorded and put on fucking display, thanks to their Blue Falcon of a commander. If they had never put their trust in that man, things would be so different. Of course, none of them were prepared for the investigation following their commander’s arrest. The network of child pornography and sick bastards who had been arrested along with him had broken them. The nasty divorce proceedings followed, leaving the commander in jail without access to his children or grandchildren. Not that Welsh felt a lick sorry for him, but the whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth.

  Welsh took a deep breath, but his anger didn’t dissipate.

  Yeah, they’d
saved the fucking day. Hakeem bin Mohammed Tahlib—the face of the Qatar ISIS cell targeting the intelligence community—was dead, thanks to a well-placed shot from Snake to save his wife, Goddess. A bullet Heim would have gladly shot himself since Tahlib had kidnapped his now wife, Katya, two years before. The real mastermind behind everything, Abd Al Alim bin Abdul, was sitting in GITMO, Guantanamo Bay, completely cut off from outside control after his wife was captured by Vixen, Cry Baby’s fiancée. They’d survived, pulled through, and some of them had even found love while they were doing it. And the SEALs escaping from GITMO and living to tell the tale? Priceless. But the danger wasn’t over, and maybe Abd still wasn’t done with them.

  Anger frothed through Welsh’s veins, but he kept his cool only by chewing on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. Where would their anger go? The rage and helplessness they felt because they hadn’t seen it? They’d all missed the signs from their commander, and now they were left to pay the price. And now Rose was a casualty just for being in the same place as the SEALs. Rage boiled higher, pressing along Welsh’s insides. He wanted to scream, but he swallowed it down. Keeping his military bearings, he tried to focus on what he’d been asked, but it was all a blur.

  “Welsh!” Heim hollered, and by his thunderous expression, Welsh figured he’d been calling for a while.

  “Yeah?”

  “Get it together. We need to know what’s going on. We got the traitor, Abd is in lockup up, and his wife was detained. How is he still making moves if he couldn’t have planned for us coming here?”

  “I may have an idea,” Tex interrupted, coming across their mics.

  The tech savvy former SEAL from Texas constantly helped their team through it all, and as far as they were concerned, he was a member of their team.

  “Finally got our comm connected again,” Heim said.

  “Once you were outside of a certain distance, the disturbance disappeared. I was able to repatch your link and listen in. This way I can stay on mission with you and provide logistical support,” Tex explained.