“Want me to get you another chair?” Josh asked with a serious note Carnegie knew was a facade.
“No, I don’t want you to get me a new chair. I want you to go get my Humvees and bring them back. Make sure those dipshits collect their wounded while you’re at it,” Carnegie snapped irritably, not bothering to ask if Josh were physically able to go outside the wire.
“You still have wounded out there?” Josh shot back in genuine shock.
Carnegie waved a hand dismissively. “Wounded—couple of scratches, maybe some stitches at the most. We brought back the worst of them.”
Josh got to his feet and exited the office without another word. He was far from 100 percent and was still suffering bad headaches and blurred vision when he was fatigued. The way his hip felt, Josh figured there was some soft-tissue damage that would take a while to heal, while his left shoulder, which had suffered a previous injury during a nighttime parachuting accident, felt like he’d reinjured it. Other than that, Josh felt like a million bucks.
When Josh cleared the office complex inside the hangar, he began looking for the Humvee Carnegie came back in. The vehicle was parked outside the building that housed the base’s medical center. The center wasn’t designed to be a hospital, but Carnegie needed a place to call medical and put his medics to work, so they’d hollowed out a small building previously used for preflight briefings and turned it into their own little medical ward.
When Josh stormed into the building, all he saw were the pale faces of men and women who were in a situation way over their heads. Josh loathed them all, but didn’t blame them. His first combat experience took place in a unit where 80 percent of his fellow comrades in arms had already savored the bitter taste of combat. When the fighting started, there was no widespread panic, and Josh’s own pride kept him from expressing anything other than a quiet professionalism. These people had been collectively inexperienced in the ways of war until earlier this morning, when they’d all had their cherries popped by a group of seasoned killers.
Josh surmised the soldiers originally figured they held the advantage when the operation started, and almost certainly hadn’t foreseen the odds shifting so drastically in the SEALs’ favor when the games began. After the SEALs punched a couple of the soldiers’ tickets, wounded several more, yet were no more than apparitions in the night, a thing the frightened and frustrated soldiers were unable to bring to heel, Josh figured this would have been enough to unhinge just about anyone who’d never seen real battle.
“I need two men,” Josh shouted over the din of voices inside the building. Everyone heard him, but no one offered up, so Josh pointed at two soldiers and jerked his thumb toward the door. “We’re going to get the rest of the wounded.”
This bit of information seemed to spur the two men into action. They both grabbed gear and raced after Josh, who swung around to the passenger side of the Humvee and climbed gingerly in. One of the men took the driver’s seat while the other jumped into the back.
“Stay out of the turret,” Josh instructed.
“What, why?” the man in the back seat questioned, having not taken part in the prior evening’s ass kicking.
Josh turned in his seat, which pained his shoulder greatly, and looked at all the blood from the wounded soldier the vehicle had carried back to base. His eyes locked on the blood, and after a second so did the man’s in the rear seat.
“Stay out of the turret,” Josh reiterated, wincing as he returned to facing the front, then looked at the driver. “You drive us straight out to where your wounded are, no deviations. You see those Navy boys standing on the side of the road, unarmed with their hands up—you keep driving. We are out here to bring back the wounded, that’s fucking it.”
The driver wheeled the Humvee around as he nodded his helmeted head. Not contacting those SEALs sounded like the most attractive plan he’d heard all day.
The SEALs set up security while Jared, Stephani and Devon struggled with the ladder, trying to get it up so it could be placed near the loft. In the end, everyone was forced to climb down the back side of the barn. Jared sensed a nervous energy coming from Stephani when they’d worked to free the ladder, but didn’t bring it up. When the group was on the ground, John bear-hugged Jared and Shannon together before tousling Essie’s hair. He turned to Devon and held up his fist, which Devon bumped with his own.
“You been looking out for this motley bunch, kiddo?” John asked Devon with a smile.
Devon nervously bobbed his head as the beginnings of a smirk creased the far corners of his youthful mouth.
“Good, good.” John laughed as he turned to Stephani. “Hey, Steph.”
“John,” Stephani said, the emotion welling up, but not spilling over, not in front of a bunch of strangers at least. She was far too proud for that. “It’s been tough with you gone,” Stephani continued.
Suddenly John turned on Jared. “What in the fuck are you doing out here, man?”
“John Buckley,” Shannon said sternly.
John’s mouth dropped slightly as he was reminded of Essie’s presence. “Ah, sorry, Ess.” John took a second, collected himself, and turned back to Jared. “So, friend, again, what are you doing out here with all of them?”
Matt and a couple of the SEALs close enough to the group were thoroughly enjoying the comedic relief this encounter seemed to be providing them after a hard night of fighting.
Jared looked John straight in the eye. “We came to get you out, John.”
“You brought Ess out here with you?” John asked incredulously.
“Well, yeah, but Shannon and Essie were going to stay behind while Steph, Devon and I came for you. Probably would have stayed right here now that I think of it.”
John let out a long breath, caught Shannon’s eye, and shook his head. “You crazy, crazy mother—” John stopped himself this time. “Lover,” he finished somewhat lamely, not knowing another word to use that wouldn’t get him lambasted.
For the next hour, the SEALs, John, and Jared’s group sat inside the relative comfort of the barn and got to know one another. John had been running and gunning all night with Matt and his team and, because of that, only knew a couple of the men by name. One of the SEALs found several sacks of walnuts inside the barn, which most likely had come from one of the surrounding orchards. The walnuts were not shelled, so the men sat around cracking walnuts and getting to know everyone. Matt had placed two SEALs on watch while the rest of them took a load off, but Jared suggested they augment the SEALs, giving them a break after the rough night they’d endured.
Stephani got to her feet. “I’ll go out. Who wants to come with?” she said, staring directly at John, who nearly leapt to his feet, not wanting one of the young SEALs to beat him to it.
The two SEALs out on watch were positioned inside the house, which was so small, they could sit in different rooms, watch both north and south avenues of approach, and still hear and see each other. As John and Stephani approached, John gave a low whistle before walking directly into the house and having a gun pointed at him by a surprised SEAL pup.
“Go get off your feet, boys,” John said. “We’ll take it for a while.”
Neither man objected as they filed out of the tiny house and headed toward the barn. As the SEALs were stepping off the porch, both men turned and raced back inside. John heard it as well. The rumble of an approaching Humvee closing on them.
“Come on, guys,” John muttered more to the incoming vehicle than anyone in his group. “Haven’t ya had enough for one night?”
One of the SEALs stopped just inside the house, then broke for the barn since all the radios were turned off in the interest of conserving batteries. As the vehicle drew closer, it became apparent it was traveling along the opposite side of the river. This became clear as the vehicle passed their location and continued north toward where John had left Carnegie’s wounded men with the burning Humvee.
Matt came out of the barn and moved up to the house, where he squatte
d next to John as the vehicle passed by, unseen, on the far side of the river, their view blocked by the levy. “If I had to bet, I’d say they’ll be back for the Humvee on our side. We have a couple of options here,” Matt offered.
Before Matt could continue, John cut in. “Let’s get it before they do. There are trucks all over the freeways with fuel for these Humvees, and you can move your entire team if you drive slow,” John said. “Jared has horses for his people. We can all move out of the area together.”
Matt assigned six SEALs to retrieve the flipped Humvee, which would add to the SEALs’ chances of survival and detract from Carnegie’s ability to pursue them. The men took ropes and a pry bar they found in a shed on the property before heading out to see about getting themselves a ride.
Chapter 31
After the six SEALs left to retrieve the Humvee, Stephani and John were left alone in the house, where they sat in silence for a time. Finally, Stephani shifted from the window she’d been peering through.
“You know, you should go easy on Jared; he was nearly torn to pieces inside after they took you. He has this younger-brother thing with you. He wants your respect.”
John scrunched his face at Stephani in question. “He dragged all three of you into what could have turned out really bad,” John countered uncomfortably.
Stephani shook her head. “No, no, he didn’t. Shannon and I came on our own. Jared was leaving by himself when Devon spoke up and said he was going. That night, Shannon and I talked about it and realized we couldn’t let him run off not knowing if we’d see him or you again. I think not knowing what happened, if something were to happen, would be worse than—” Stephani shrugged. “Well, you know.”
“So you all left Calvin, Carlos and Claire behind, or they didn’t want to come?” John pressed.
Stephani’s face darkened with anguish, telling John something dreadful happened.
“What, Calvin?”
Stephani shook her head. “No, he’s getting too old to be traipsing around the countryside, but he’s fine. Claire—ah, Claire kind of hit her breaking point.” Stephani didn’t want to hear herself utter the words and hoped John would understand, which he did not. “She hung herself,” Stephani finally blurted out before looking away.
John was speechless for a moment, then got to his feet and moved to Stephani’s side. His hand hovered over her shoulder, but he didn’t touch her. This woman was like the common house cat, unpredictable in John’s experience, and he wasn’t always able to accurately predict what would set her off. Stephani glanced over her shoulder, then back out the window, where a pleasant smile tickled the edge of her pretty mouth. She reached back and brought John’s hand to her shoulder before rolling them in wordless communication, her shoulders needed caressing.
John was about to step forward, but took the second to push his rifle to his back, not wanting it to awkwardly slip and bang into Stephani’s back and ruin this most tenuous of moments. Once the weapon was out of the way, John laid his hands onto Stephani, feeling the tense muscles, which felt like strands of fibrous hemp pulled taut. He gently worked his strong hands across the tops of her shoulder blades, using his thumbs to massage gently into Stephani’s scapula.
Stephani’s eyes closed as she felt John’s strong hands pulling the tension from her overtaxed muscles. She let out a little gasp as his thumb dug into a knot on her left side. The pain was euphoric, therapeutic, and a little romantic all at the same time. Stephani knew she was beginning to have some unexplained feelings for John and had been since before he had been whisked away by the military guys. She’d never really let him know, and most of her communications with John to date could only be defined as abrasive. As oblivious and socially careless as John initially seemed, Stephani always saw a boyish innocence hidden beneath his tough-guy exterior. It was John’s softer quality that drove Stephani’s incipient attraction to this sometimes beast of a man.
John ran a hand around the back of Stephani’s neck and rubbed a the tight trapezius muscles on both sides of her neck while wishing this moment would never end. When John sensed a loosening, he ran his hand gently up and into Stephani’s hair, where he grabbed a handful and pulled gently, eliciting a low moan from Stephani’s parted lips.
Stephani felt John’s fingers snake up and into her hair, where he tugged softly. At that moment John was in complete control of her, she could feel it. Stephani was not a woman to allow any one male or female to control her, but at this moment in time and with this particular man, it gave her a sense of safety she hadn’t enjoyed—ever. Inwardly she hoped John refrained from doing or saying anything stupid that would tarnish this euphoric snapshot in time.
After John pulled at Stephani’s hair for nearly a full minute, he released his hands from her thick brown locks and stepped back. Stephani pivoted to face him, her face conveying the relief he’d just brought to her overwrought muscular assembly.
John smiled. “I’m truly sorry about Claire,” he said softly. “I’m also glad you came with Jared.”
Stephani smiled sadly after the mention of Claire. “I am too.”
John returned the few feet to his post and peered out the window, wondering what life had in store for him now. Stephani had been such a ballbuster in the past, John was unsure how to proceed without getting himself into hot water. In the end he decided a course of inaction best suited the situation. John felt a connection, but did not want to force any square pegs into round holes, so to speak. He would be the perfect gentleman, and when Stephani was ready, she would come around.
If it wasn’t meant to be, then John would continue on with his life, but something told him Stephani would not have come along with Shannon and Jared if there wasn’t more to the way she felt about him. Internally John chuckled to himself when he thought about the moment. This was the first time he’d ever stood a post while at the same time strategizing his love life. The solar flare had brought about many first times for everyone, John surmised, even for him.
John’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the Humvee returning along the far side of the river. The vehicle was running much slower than on its way in, and John imagined the vehicle was loaded with their wounded, which caused a pang of guilt to shoot through him. He knew deep down the men and women would have killed every one of them if he and the SEALs hadn’t fought back. Hell, they’d killed two SEALs, John thought, so why was he feeling guilty?
Dehumanizing American men and women was a tougher thing to accomplish, thought John. It worked like a charm overseas when the enemy looked different, wore dissimilar uniforms or none at all, and shared absolutely nothing in common with John other than being human.
Now, here in America, he’d clashed with his own people, and it left a sour taste in his mouth. John was no missionary, but these men and women needed to be converted, shown the light, which would expose Carnegie for what he really was. John was keenly aware that scared people in terrible situations are naturally drawn to strong figures who oftentimes fraudulently present themselves as saviors. His legs suddenly felt weak, and John sat in a chair a little harder than he’d intended.
John was so sick and tired of the fighting he couldn’t begin to put it into words. He’d actually enjoyed the hard work back at the ranch house when he, Jared and Carlos had plumbed water to the kitchen. The work was backbreaking, but it brought about a sense of achievement when everyone gathered around the little spigot, turned the valve, and water poured into the kitchen sink.
John thought about Claire, and in the absence of knowing all the facts, he would make it a point later to talk with Jared about what had happened. John remembered Claire as the most incapable and frailest of the group, so although he was shocked by the event, he wasn’t all that surprised by Claire’s choice to end it all. One’s mental health was a tricky thing, John knew. There were a great many things that could derail a person’s mental stability. Substance abuse or a traumatic experience were just a couple John could think of offhand, and the solar fla
re along with everything the event had brought about more than qualified as a traumatic experience.
In the Special Missions Unit, men were afforded access to mental-wellness experts whenever needed. Combat was a traumatic experience to say the least, but it was an expected type of upsetting experience. The men trained for what they would face on the battlefield, they talked to other men who’d endured the rigors of war, so when they fought, the drastic departure from their previous norm wasn’t as momentous as what was happening to people like Claire. John also found that for the most part, men who operated within the norms of wartime activities and remained conscientious to the fact they were warring against other human beings survived the mental rigors of war far better than those who took unethical liberties on the battlefield.
Claire had received no training before the solar flare, no pep talks by men and women who’d experienced a societal collapse; the whole thing just came crashing down on her. One second Claire and others like her were enjoying a café mocha, and the next they were being murdered, kidnapped, or traded for camping gear. As hard as the transition was on John, he couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult it was for the rest of the population. This, in John’s opinion, spoke volumes about the character of the people still alive and doing the right thing.
John glanced over at Stephani, who was staring out her own window. He had a view of her profile in the morning light, and though he could see the fatigue on her face, she was a beautiful woman in an ugly world, a delicately petalled flower in a field of death and decay. A feeling of gratefulness swept over John as he thought how lucky he had been to crash, survive when others didn’t, and then fall in with such a strong, good bunch of people. He smiled sadly to himself, thinking it would have been nice to know Bart for more time. John was a fan of old straight-talking men, feeling they brought a sense of freshness to any conversation, willing to say it like it was when no one else had the guts to.
The Jared Chronicles | Book 3 | Chains of Tyranny Page 30