Protecting the Future (SEAL of Protection Book 8) (10 page)

“
H
ey
, Tex. It’s me. Please call me back as soon as you can. I know you’re holed up in your cave, but this is important. Akilah needs to tell you what she saw on the news. She was watching a clip of that kidnapped woman soldier reading something, and she saw some men in the background speaking Arabic. Apparently she read their lips, and she won’t tell me what they said, but she did admit that you needed to know. Please. Call me as soon as you can.”

Melody hung up the phone and sighed. Short of doing something underhanded, like putting her tracker in a Dumpster and letting it get carried to the landfill, which would certainly get her husband’s attention, she didn’t know what to do. He was usually very protective of both her and Akilah, but with everything else that had been going on it was possible he’d lost track of time. Eventually he’d come out of his cave to shower, or eat, and he’d notice she’d left a message both on his cell phone and on their ancient house phone.

In the meantime, she did what she could to help out her friends. Jess was feeling frazzled with not only her two kids, but the “afternoon sickness,” as she called it. Alabama was doing fine with Brinique and Davisa, but the two girls were feeling clingy since Christopher had left. Summer was good, glowing and fully recovered after April’s birth, but she was struggling with being back at work and away from April all day after her maternity leave was up.

Melody knew Caroline was worried about Fiona. She hadn’t been around much, because she’d been working so hard, and everyone always worried about her when their men were off on a mission. And finally there was Cheyenne. Caroline had tried to get her to sleep at her house, so if she needed to go have her baby in the middle of the night, Caroline would be there to help, but so far she’d refused, saying she was fine and didn’t want to get in anyone’s way.

Melody, as always, was impressed with Caroline. The woman took a lot on, but honestly seemed to thrive on it. She could work a full shift at the lab, then come home, babysit, give advice, and even host a dinner get-together for all the women and their kids…and still come out on the other side smiling.

She went into the kitchen to see Caroline teaching Akilah how to make cookies from scratch. Akilah was obsessed with cooking. Anytime she ate something she enjoyed, she’d ask how to make it and bug Melody until they made the dish together. Melody figured it was because growing up in Iraq, food could be scarce, so she had no problem sharing what she knew with her new daughter. All too soon, Akilah would be a teenager and probably have no time for her mother.

Caroline’s phone rang when she was wrist-deep in the middle of mixing the cookie dough by hand, which she insisted was the only way to make sure all the ingredients got mixed together properly. She’d even claimed her chemistry background proved it was true.

“I’ll get it,” Melody said as she reached for the phone. “Hello?”

“Caroline?”

“No, this is Melody. Cheyenne?”

“Yeah…uh…”

“Are you all right?”

Melody heard her panting on the other end of the line, then she said, “Yeah, but it’s time.”

“It’s time? Baby time? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Melody held her hand over the phone and screeched to Caroline, “It’s time!” Then she moved her hand and got back to Cheyenne. “Where are you? Have you called an ambulance? We’re coming to get you.”

“I’m still at home, I haven’t called an ambulance yet…I called Caroline. But—”

“Okay, then we’re on our way. Do you have your suitcase there with you? We can’t forget that.”

“I was calling to tell Caroline, but I’m about to call the ambulance. Can you guys meet me at the hospital?”

“Yeah, of course, but why don’t we just come get you? That baby isn’t going to come in the next ten minutes… Wait…is she?”

“No, I don’t think so…but…I’m bleeding. It’s not right.”

“Shit, okay, I’m hanging up now. Call 911 immediately and we’ll meet you at the hospital. I’m sure it’s fine. Don’t panic. All right?”

“Okay. Melody?”

“Yeah, Cheyenne?”

“I’m scared.”

“It’s going to be fine. Now, shut up, hang up, and call 911.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

Melody clicked off the phone and saw that Caroline had already washed her hands and was impatiently waiting to hear what was going on.

Melody shoved the phone at Caroline and reached in her back pocket for her own. “That was obviously Cheyenne. She’s having the baby now, but she’s bleeding. Damn woman called
you
before calling 911. I swear, cops and doctors and nurses, and apparently 911 operators, are always the last to call for help when they need it. You call Alabama and Fiona. I’ll call Jessyka and Summer. We need to get to the hospital. Pronto.”

Caroline nodded and immediately dialed. Operation Baby Cooper was happening. Now.

P
enelope came back
to consciousness suddenly. She’d always read about how people gradually came back into themselves after being knocked out, but that wasn’t the case with her.

She could smell aviation fuel and smoke from a fire. She opened her eyes and saw destruction all around her. Jesus.

She remembered now, the helicopter she’d been in had obviously crashed, or been shot down, more likely.

She looked around and saw nothing but rocks and scrub bushes. They were obviously in the mountains, but she had no idea what mountains or in what country. But first things first. Penelope’s EMT training kicked in. She painfully got up on her hands and knees and paused, taking stock of herself.

Nothing seemed broken, except maybe a rib or two. She could function with that, no problem. It hurt like hell, but in the scope of her current situation, it was negligible. She also had cuts, scrapes, and probably a hell of a lot of bruises. All in all, she was in remarkable shape for falling out of the sky while inside a metal box.

Penelope looked around and saw three men lying near her. She crawled over and vaguely noticed they were three of the SEALs who had helped her escape. Penelope couldn’t remember their names, but at the moment it didn’t matter. All three were out cold but, when she checked, thankfully they were breathing. Taking a quick look at them, Penelope thought one had a broken arm—it was lying above his head at a weird angle—and the other two looked relatively whole. She couldn’t tell if they had any kind of internal bleeding or head wounds though.

She looked up when she heard a noise. It was Dude, the man who’d appeared in her tent prison as if an angel from God.

“You good?” he asked gruffly. He was carrying one of the men from the helicopter, who didn’t look good at all.

Penelope nodded. “I’m good. What can I do to help?”

Dude eyed the small woman carefully. They were in a world of hurt, and were fucked if they didn’t get their shit together. He might as well use her as much as she’d be able to help him. He ignored the tweaks in his injured ankle and told her solemnly, “Copilot is dead. Gunner and crew chief are in bad shape. My teammates are generally all right, but have various injuries. The pilots did a hell of a job getting the bird down without killing us all. But we’re fucked if we don’t get the hell out of here.” Dude waited for Penelope to nod, and continued. “I’ll get everyone out here, but I need your help in triaging them. Can you do that?”

“Yes. I’m an EMT back home in Texas. I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you.” The two words were short and heartfelt.

Penelope nodded and turned back to the men who were in front of her. She looked around and saw a red bag with a white cross on it. At one time, she would’ve questioned how it was right where she needed it to be at exactly the right moment, but after seeing more than one miracle as a firefighter and EMT, now she took them in stride. She made her way over to the first-aid kit and dragged it back to the SEALs. She saw one of the men’s eyes were open and he was watching her intently.

“Hi, remember me? I’m Penelope and I’m going to help you.” She fell into emergency medical technician mode automatically. This was something she was familiar with. “Are you all right? Does anything hurt?”

She watched the man take stock of himself. He moved his legs slowly, then each arm, and finally he rotated his head back and forth. “I think I’m in one piece. Everything hurts, but nothing’s broken. Sit rep?”

Penelope sighed in relief. Thank God he was alive. One man’s condition known, seven to go. She answered the SEAL. “From what I’m guessing, RPG took down the chopper. One dead, seven unknown.”

“I’m Cookie. I wasn’t sure if you remembered who I was.”

“I didn’t, and I can’t promise to remember you later either, but thank you. Can you help me?” Penelope gestured to the man with the obviously broken arm who hadn’t woken up yet.

“What do you need?”

“We need to set his arm. It’s gonna hurt like hell and I’m not sure I can hold him if he wakes up in the middle of it.”

“Fuck. Wolf is not going to be happy about this.”

“Wolf?”

“Yeah, this is Wolf, our team leader. And the man there,” Cookie gestured to the other motionless man, “is Benny.”

Penelope nodded and the two got to work. Cookie was also trained in first aid, probably more than she was since he was a SEAL, and they quickly were able to set Wolf’s arm against his side, keeping it immobile. He was just coming around when Dude came back to them with the pilot. He had a large wound on his head and was bleeding profusely.

“Pilot’s in bad shape. I’m not sure we can move any of the Night Stalkers.” His words were directed at Cookie.

Cookie nodded. “Let me help you get the others and we’ll go to Plan D.”

The two men left to go back toward the wrecked hunk of metal that used to be an MH-60 helicopter and Penelope turned to Benny. Cookie and Dude returned quickly, each carrying another one of the men from the helicopter crew.

“Mozart’s coming around in the chopper. He’s got a large gash on his upper arm, but is otherwise whole. Where’s Abe?”

“Shit. He’s the only one unaccounted for.”

Penelope suddenly felt weighed down with guilt. She sat back on her heels and looked at the six men lying broken on the ground in front of her. Damn.

“This is not your fucking fault.”

Penelope turned and looked at the man with the broken arm, Wolf, who’d spoken. “How do you know what I was thinking?” she asked in surprise.

“It’s written all over your face, sweetheart.”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to call me sweetheart.”

Wolf laughed. Actually laughed. “Sorry, when you’re about as big as a bug and as cute as a button, don’t think I can call you anything
but
sweetheart, regardless of your rank and obvious competence as a soldier.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? That’s the most sexist thing I’ve heard since I’ve been in this country, and that’s saying something,” Penelope groused at Wolf.

He laughed again upon seeing her glare. “Sorry. Help me sit up.” Now
that
actually sounded like a command.

Penelope helped ease him to a sitting position. “That arm’s gonna hurt like hell. We gave you some morphine, but not a lot. Cookie didn’t think you should be loopy when we try to outrun insurgents in the fucking mountains…his words, not mine.”

Wolf nodded. “How’re they?” It was as if his earlier words hadn’t been spoken. Penelope was much more comfortable with this no-nonsense, sticking to the details conversation.

“Copilot’s dead. I haven’t gotten to the other three men. I can’t see anything wrong with…Benny, I think the others called him, and they’re off looking for Abe. Dude is limping a bit, but he’s acting impervious to pain, so it’s probably not too bad. Mozart seems to be okay and will probably drag his carcass over here soon; again, their words, not mine.”

Wolf scooted toward the unconscious Army pilots as Penelope did the same. They worked in silence, Wolf helping her bandage where he could and offering suggestions. They heard noises in the shrubs behind them and before Penelope could think, Wolf had turned and aimed a pistol in the direction of the footsteps.

“Easy, Wolf, it’s us,” Penelope heard, right before three SEALs emerged from the dense underbrush.

The man they’d called Abe was walking…sort of. There was blood on the bottom of his pants and it was obvious, if not for the help from his teammates, he wouldn’t be mobile at all.

“Fuck, Abe, what’d you go and do?”

Dude answered for him. “We pulled a nice-sized chunk of metal out of his thigh. We field dressed it, but it’s gonna need stitches when we get to where we’re going.”

They set Abe down on the ground next to Benny, who was finally coming around. Upon further examination, Benny was all right. He had a raging headache but no open head wound, which, unfortunately, meant he probably had a concussion. Mozart walked into their midst, wobbling a bit but upright and mobile. It was something, at least.

“Plan D discussion,” Wolf said in a quiet, serious voice. “Sergeant Turner, listen up, you’re a part of this team now too.”

Penelope nodded, glad they weren’t going to try to shove her off to the side while they made all the decisions. She had a sudden
need
to know what was going on. She’d been kept in the dark about everything for the last few months. It felt good to be included.

“Abe’s out with that leg, and that means he’ll need two of us to help him. I’ve got a broken arm, Benny has a concussion. Mozart is moving, but that arm is gonna be about as useless as mine. Tiger here is favoring her right side, so I’m assuming she’s got some sort of broken or cracked ribs.”

“Wait, what? Tiger?” Penelope wasn’t sure she liked that nickname, although it was a hell of a lot better than what the guys back at the firehouse called her.

“Fierce as a fucking tiger,” Wolf said without even a smile. He continued as if she hadn’t interrupted him. “So that leaves us with Dude and Cookie relatively unscathed, but you guys will need to help Abe.” He looked sadly at the Night Stalkers. “We can’t take them with us.”

The men were silent for a moment, then Benny said, “Our trackers. We’ve got five of them. If we leave one on each of them, Tex can track ’em.”

“What’s the radio situation?” Abe asked.

Cookie shook his head in response. “No radios. They’re dead. I agree with Benny. We can’t take them with us, but we can’t leave them at the mercy of the insurgents either,” he said.

“What?” Penelope felt like a broken record. “The radios are dead? And trackers? What trackers?”

“No time to fully explain, but in a nutshell, five of us have GPS trackers on us that are being monitored by the best fucking hacker I’ve ever met in my life. He’s got our back at all times, including while we’re on missions,” Mozart told her.

“That’s not legal is it?”

“Who the fuck cares? Right now it’s all these guys have. It’s their only chance to get out of this fucking country with their heads attached,” Benny said somewhat bitterly.

Penelope winced. Dammit. He was right. “But the copilot? He’s already dead—”

Wolf didn’t let her finish. “A SEAL doesn’t leave a SEAL behind, ever. He might be dead, and there’s a chance the insurgents will ignore his body and leave him alone, but if they decide to take him somewhere and desecrate his body for one of their fucking videos, he’ll hopefully be able to be found before that can happen. We’ll leave the trackers with the others as well. If the insurgents get their hands on them there’s a possibility they could be separated, so each of them having a tracker will make it easier for the cavalry to find them.”

Penelope gulped. Okay, she got it. These men were loyal to the core, and it didn’t matter that the Night Stalkers were Army, not Navy. They’d come to get her out, and had refused to leave her behind as well. Just the type of soldiers she wanted to be around. “Right.”

Cookie walked to Wolf, Abe, and Benny, and collected their trackers. While he was busy planting them on the other men, Penelope asked. “Why only five when there are six of you?”

It was Mozart who answered without hesitating. “Because I was the dumbass who forgot it. You can bet my wife will kick my ass when I get home. Believe me, I’m kicking my own ass right about now.”

Penelope watched as Cookie spoke to each of the injured men, obviously explaining what was going on. His face was serious and grim when he returned.

“Okay, here’s the deal. The pilot said the RPG came from the southeast. We’re too far from Yuksekova to get to the base on foot. We’re in the middle of the Hakkari Daglari mountain range, which separates Iraq and Turkey. Our best bet at this point is to find a good place to hunker down and wait them out. We need to take the high ground if we’re gonna have any chance of surviving an onslaught by ISIS or Al Qaeda. Tex will know where we went down and will most likely get with JSOC. They should send in Delta Force or even Rex’s SEAL team. We don’t have a lot of time, but Benny and I will move the injured Night Stalkers to safer ground, and then the seven of us will bug out of here. We’ll head up into the mountains where there’s a large cave system.”

“But aren’t the caves where the insurgents generally hole up?” Penelope asked uncertainly.

Cookie merely shrugged and nodded.

“How are we gonna avoid them?”

“Luck.”

Penelope growled. She definitely didn’t like the answers she was getting. “Wouldn’t it be better to stay here with the pilots and let your friend do his thing? If anyone comes we can fight them off defensively here.”

Wolf didn’t get angry over her disagreement, but his words were impatient, as if he knew they were running out of time. “Cookie, Benny, go ahead and move the others. We’ll prepare what we can while you’re gone.” He turned to Penelope to answer her question. “We can’t defend this position. Look around, we’re in a hole. We need to get up high to have a good vantage point. We’re sitting ducks here. We still have Dude’s tracker, Tex will know something’s up, and will be able to find us.”

“But…” Penelope looked at the men Dude and Cookie were currently helping take a more defensive position. “Do they know about how hard it is to defend this position?”

Wolf nodded grimly.

Holy freaking shit. Penelope swallowed hard once. Then twice. By agreeing to stay, by not demanding to go with them, the men were basically signing their death warrants. But if they insisted on going with them, they were
all
in grave danger.

Wolf’s voice was subdued and gentle, if not sad at the same time. “The gunner has two broken legs. The crew chief hasn’t regained consciousness and is bleeding out of his ears and nose. The pilot broke both ankles and both wrists in the crash. With our injuries we can’t carry them. They know the odds, Tiger. I’m just thankful we can leave the trackers with them. It’ll give them a better shot than if they didn’t have them.”

Penelope abruptly turned away and started to gather as much gear as she could find, and that she thought they’d need. She knew she’d see those men’s faces and hear their voices in her dreams for years to come. She made a vow to herself, to make sure every American knew what a huge sacrifice they’d made and how brave they’d been in the face of certain death.