Sign, SEAL and Deliver

by Geri Foster

  Roper came up behind him. “Hey, it’s the wee hours of the morning. You going to get any shut eye?”

  Rye let out a tired breath. He had been up 24 hours, and the adrenaline from the raid still circulated through his body at an astounding rate. He had to get those hostages out, and they had such a small window.

  He turned to look at Roper and pointed to the screen. “Look at those guys. It’s as if they’re waiting for something.”

  “They are,” Roper laughed good-naturedly. “Us.” He stepped next to Rye. “They have hostages. The most common move for us to make is get those people out of there. That’s what they’re waiting for, Rye. They know there’s the possibility we might try to swoop in and save the day.”

  “And that’s exactly what we should be doing. Instead we’re stuck in here, watching them go about their everyday lives, without a single idea of what to do next.”

  Roper pointed to the screen. “You see anything strange there?”

  Rye leaned in closer. “Other than it’s the beginning of the day and it looks like they’re getting ready for bed?”

  “Because they’re assuming if we were going to try to take the hostages, we’d do it in the middle of the night.”

  Rye looked at him. “Who would think we would be crazy enough to do a midday extraction? That would be the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done.”

  Roper shrugged. “Me too. I don’t like to be out in the wide-open spaces. Hell, give me the jungle any day.”

  Rye studied the locals in the village. The women and the children were beginning to stir, as the men stretched and yawned. He wondered when the second shift came in. Them staying up all night didn’t mean they didn’t have a backup to cover when they slept.

  They’d be careless not to. And if Karzi proved to be one thing, careless wouldn’t be a word used to describe him. But would he think Rye and his men were confident enough to hit in the middle of the day? To walk in there, take those prisoners and walk out? Could they do that?

  Rye turned and looked at Roper. “We didn’t get much sleep, and we’re not on top of our game, but a surprise attack may be to our advantage.” He pointed back at the screen. “They’re waiting for us every night to make a move. The villagers are simply waiting to mow us down when we come within ten feet of that camp.”

  Roper laughed, his voice lightening Rye’s mood. “Shall I tell the guys to get ready to move out?”

  “Let me try to get a chopper synced up.” Rye picked up the phone, made several calls, then hung up and looked at Roper. “Get the men ready. We leave in twenty minutes.”

  As Roper moved back to the men in their sleeping quarters, Rye went the other way. He knocked on Harper’s door.

  “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me, open up,” Rye said, waiting impatiently. “The men and I are going on a raid. When we come back, we’ll have the hostages.”

  Her door flung open, and she stood before him in a pair of boxer shorts and a tight T-shirt. He couldn’t deny his mouth watered.

  “You’re going to do what?” she gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You can’t do a midday hit. And the money isn’t here yet. Have you talked to Sully?”

  “In the village where the hostages are being kept, the guards sleep during the day and stay awake at night. We’re hoping for a surprise attack. If they’re sleeping when we take the hostages, it will be a piece of cake and we won’t need the money.”

  “But what about Sully? This is his mission.”

  Rye’s mind ran so fast, he barely kept up with his own thoughts. “If we succeed at Sully’s mission and we get the hostages, he goes home a hero. But I don’t want him to know anything until it’s done.”

  She crossed her arms and glared at him. “You know you’re breaking every order known to man. You don’t just take over another SEAL’s op.”

  “I’m going in to get those hostages out of there any way I can. Besides, what the hell is the Navy going to do? Court-martial me? Hell, I’m way beyond that, and way beyond caring.”

  He turned to leave, and she reached out touching him. “At least give me a chance to get dressed and get to the Comm Center where I can be your eyes. You’ll need my help.” She moved into her room and began getting dressed. She seemed oblivious to the fact he watched with great interest.

  “I already have the chopper lined up. Wheels are up in fifteen minutes.” Rye turned and left. “Wish me luck.”

  Every man had been given their assignment as they left the compound and jumped into the helicopter. Rye looked back to see Harper standing in the doorway, the wind stirred by the helicopter blades blowing against her.

  Perhaps this would be the way he remembered her. Squared in the door praying and hoping he’d make it out alive. And then the helicopter rose, and he lost sight of her.

  The men had prepared for their mission. He explained how they would approach. By the time they reached the debarking stage, they dropped out of the helicopter ten klicks away from the site. That could prove to be a hard jog in broad daylight.

  They waited there silently for a few minutes as the helicopter returned to base. It had been instructed to return and they all had a job to do. Loaded down with fifty pounds of gear, they started a slow jog on absolutely nothing. No breakfast, no shower, and no sleep.

  God help them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Harper closed the door and went back to her intel Comm Center control area. She watched their movements from the drones overhead. Sadly, if they ran into trouble she would not be able to send in the Calvary to save them. They were on their own.

  She wiped the sleep from her eyes then went into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee only to return to the Comm Center as quick as possible. She didn’t envy Rye and his men. The mission they were undertaking bordered on impossible, and they had taken it at the wrong time. No sleep, no rest, no food. By the time the mission ended they’d be exhausted, hungry, and maybe dead.

  But this was what he did. This was what he was good at, and this is what she admired him for. Still retirement continued to knock at the back of her mind. How much more of this could she take — could he take? It might be time for a new beginning. She slammed her hand down on the console spilling her coffee. “Damn.”

  She tried to come to grips with the situation. Had Rye decided to go out in a hail of glory? Had he gone to the village knowing it would prove to be a challenge too big for even him to make it out alive? No. No, Rye finished what he started, and he came for Qamar. He wouldn’t leave until he killed him. Because that was his mission. And he finished every mission.

  She took a sip of her coffee and watched over the rim as Sully drew closer. She quickly shut down the screen, preventing him from seeing Rye and his men. He had a cup in one hand. Scowling, he hadn’t shaved or hit the shower yet. Dawn fast approached, so it seemed unusual to see Sully up this early. Not unless he planned to go on a mission. And he wasn’t. He had to wait for the money to be delivered, and then he would start negotiations. He’d set up a conversation line between him and Karzi about how to get the hostages out.

  Right now, Sully didn’t know Rye and his men were gone. He normally assumed they were sleeping, and she planned to keep it that way. Also, Harper felt if she were to say anything to Sully he might become angry enough to spoil their mission. She refused to have that on her conscience.

  “What new and exciting things are we up to today in the sandlot?” Sully asked, looking around in disgust. “God, I hate this place.”

  “Then why did you accept the mission? You could be stateside.” Harper had wondered that since Sully arrived.

  “Oh, the money had a little to do with it and it’s an easy assignment. I won’t even have to fire a gun. I hand over the money to Karzi and he delivers the hostages. We all leave happy. The end of a very illustrious career.”

  He smiled, seeming extremely happy. Too happy for her. Sully didn’t take a lot of things seriously. He tended to be kind of a jokester at time
s, but nothing about this situation appeared funny. And it proved to be irresponsible for him to think this would be so easy. That nobody’s life would be in danger. That Karzi wouldn’t take a gun out and blow the heads off of both the hostages. Better yet, use a video and machete. That made for great entertainment. Apparently Sully didn’t mind the uncertainty. If he worried, it didn’t show. Quite the opposite. He didn’t think anything could go wrong here, and in his mind, he was most likely right. Money, hostages. Get on a plane and go home.

  “Let’s hope it turns out that way. You know in too many incidences it doesn’t happen as planned. People get killed. People die every day over here. You could take the hostages, turn your back and Karzi could kill all three of you without blinking an eye. He’s a cold-blooded killer, and you know it.”

  “I’m not going to worry about something I don’t have to. The communications I’ve had with him have been cordial. He wants the money, he doesn’t want hostages. He doesn’t want to make a statement. He just wants the cash.”

  “You’re a fool if you think that way, Sully,” she said turning back to the Comm Center. “No one should take what we do over here lightly. Your joke is not funny. Leastwise for the newsreels. Keep that in mind when you make your little agreement with Karzi.”

  Sully sat his coffee down and folded his arms. “Now listen to me, Harper, I’m not going to get myself all riled up over a piece of shit mission like this. This whole operation has been in the works for three months. I know exactly what I’m doing, how I’m going to do it, and who’s going to do it with me. This is a no-brainer,” he pointed at her, anger flashing his eyes. “And by God, I plan to keep it that way.”

  Harper glanced down unable to meet his gaze. In a way, she felt like she’d already deceived him, and she had never done something so questionable before. Not until now. Why didn’t Rye just let Sully do his thing? He knew his assignment. What did Rye hope to prove?

  “I’m here for intel support, Sully.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you. I will say my communications with Karzi have not been as positive as yours. He rarely, if ever, cooperates. In several instances, American troops had to back him into a corner to make him abide by what he’d originally agreed to. He’s not an honorable man.”

  Sully barked a laugh. “Harper, sometimes you’re really funny, and sometimes you’re really stupid.”

  She straightened her lips tight. No one called her stupid and got away with it. Not with her education and not with her training. She turned and took a step closer to Sully. “If I were you, I wouldn’t throw that word around too lightly. When you leave this compound, your ass belongs to me. One wrong word from my mic and you could walk into the middle of a minefield and I could leave your ass there. So, a little respect, please.”

  He looked embarrassed, as he checked to make sure no one heard his insult. “What I’m trying to say is there is no one over here that’s honorable. These people are a bunch of opportunists. They want to take what America has to offer, that’s all. They’d cut my throat, your throat and anyone else’s throat and wouldn’t think twice about it.” He walked away, his steps hard and hurried. “I didn’t come here to make friends. I came here to get the hostages back to the United States at all costs. Once I leave here, God himself couldn’t get me to come back. I hate it here. I hate these people. And I hate the fact that innocent American soldiers were murdered while we were here. And I hate the Goddamn government for sending us to this hellhole.”

  He walked out of the room, back toward his quarters. Harper had never argued with Sully before. She always considered him a friend. She didn’t mention Rye and his men out doing his mission. Now she had betrayed him. And they’d probably be walking in the door with his prisoners. Shit would hit the fan then. Sully had a strong personality and so did Rye, and here she’d gone and inserted herself right in the middle.

  She watched on the con as Rye and his men continued toward the village. They were about five klicks away. Thankfully, Sully hadn’t notice the darkened Comm screen. He didn’t notice Rye and his men were gone. Once he found out, she would be in on that deceit. Because he was aware that she knew every time someone left the compound. Period.

  She prayed Rye and his men made it back alive. She didn’t care if they got the hostages or not, she just hoped they didn’t stir up a hornet’s nest Sully wouldn’t be able to settle back down. The whole mission could fly up in their faces. And there’d be very little they could do about it.

  She hoped they got out alive.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Within an hour, Rye, Rebel and Roper stood, their backs pressed against the warm mortar of the hut holding the hostages. They’d waited for dishes from the morning meal to be removed and the women to return to their homes.

  Quietly, they moved around the side of the building where any resident could look up and sound the alarm. Instead, the women went about washing clothes or building a cooking fire while some gathered kindling and stones. The slightest sound of alarm from them and the guards would come running. He and his men didn’t stand much of a chance against so many Afghans in the open.

  Rye motioned for Rebel to enter the house and alert the hostages they were there to take them to safety. Within seconds, the sound of rustling caught his attention and he hoped the locals didn’t notice the disturbance. Few Americans realized how quiet the desert could be.

  Rebel took one hostage and Roper the other, their fingers pressed against their lips to keep them quiet. The prisoners looked dazed and confused but seemed to understand their signal to remain silent and move away from the building where they’d been housed.

  Once several klicks away, Rye stopped and asked the two men, both in their mid-fifties, if they were okay and fit enough to make it to the pick-up point. No longer tied, the men appeared relieved. There was nothing more frightening than being with a bunch of terrorists who’d love to chop off your head.

  “I’m Jim Webb and this is Don Diaz. We’re here to observe the natives and report back to the UN.”

  “Bullshit,” Rye said, his face next to the man who spoke. “You’re both with the CIA and have no damn business here. I’m taking you back to base and from there you’re going home. Be smart and don’t come back.”

  Don Diaz lowered his head. “You get me out of this Godforsaken place and I’m never returning.”

  The hostages were in much better condition than Rye could’ve hoped for. They had managed to keep up with them all the way to the site where they would meet the helicopter. So far, nothing hinted they’d been made and were being followed. Comrade pulled up to the rear to make sure. Rye looked in the distance and saw the helicopter landing. He got everyone on board and waved them off.

  “What are you doing?” Roper asked holding his hand out. “Come on man, get on board so we can get out of here.”

  Rye shook his head. “You men go ahead I’m going back for Karzi. I’ll meet you later at the base.”

  The helicopter lifted and was gone before more words could be exchanged. The hostages were safe, not a shot had been fired, and not one American dollar exchanged. Rye knew that would make Karzi really pissed. And that’s exactly the way he wanted him. He knew Sully’s job had not been to kill the terrorist. Taking him out had not been part of his assignment. The brass hadn’t made the decision, so Rye made it on his own. This man was a terrorist known worldwide for his atrocities.

  Now came the time for him to die. Decent men didn’t leave people like Karzi behind so they could continue their diabolical plans. They eliminated them. That’s why there were Navy SEALs. And that’s why he stayed to finish the job.

  He crawled all the way back to the village. It took another thirty minutes after he arrived before the villagers realized the hostages were gone. Then all hell broke loose. The village became a beehive of activity. Cell phones came out of nowhere and calls were made. Screams were heard and the men tore the place apart searching for the hostages.

  Still, Rye
stayed flat on the ground, not twelve feet away.

  An hour later Karzi pulled up in a brand-new Mercedes. Son of a bitch. The terrorist stepped out angry, shouting, waving his fist and firing his shiny new pistol. He slapped several men as he paced the village, slinging accusations left and right. Oh, he was mad all right.

  Rye waited. Late morning turned into late afternoon, and still he waited. During that time several cars had come and gone, yet Karzi stayed and had the men out looking everywhere. On one occasion, two passed a few inches from his position and they nearly stepped on him. At times, he laid so still he didn’t even breathe.

  If they caught him now, he’d be dead. There would be no conversation, no terms, no money exchanged. Rye would be killed, hopefully instantly. But if not, so be it.

  He laid in the rough dirt all day. As evening shadows started to move in, he pulled his sniper rifle closer, positioned it in front of him and looked down the sight.

  Karzi sat at the head of a table eating his evening meal. Probably everything the poor village had. Rye moved the scope around and adjusted for the wind, his height, and the distance. He took a deep breath then he let it out slowly before squeezing the trigger.

  Karzi fell out of the chair and landed on his face in a puddle of blood.

  Rye didn’t move. He lowered his head and laid completely still. Were he to jump up and run, they’d see him and start firing. So he placed his cheek on the dirt, pulled his rifle closer, closed his eyes and controlled his breathing as utter chaos broke out around him.

  For two hours he laid there. It proved to be a long time and the whole while Harper stayed on his mind. What it would be like to live a normal life. Get married and have a family. Rye wanted to be back in his cabin on the beach surrounded by his junkyard furniture. He wanted to be wearing flip-flops and ragged cargo shorts. He wanted the heat of the sun warming his back, the gentle sound of the waves rolling onto the shore.