Protecting the Future (SEAL of Protection Book 8) (14 page)

T
he echo
of a gunshot startled Penelope and she sat upright in confusion. Looking around, she saw Dude and Cookie lying on their stomachs at the front of the cave. Mozart and Benny were nowhere to be seen. Wolf was standing at the side of the cave, his pistol in his hand by his side. Every now and then he’d lean and peek out, then bring his head back inside.

Abe lay still and quiet behind her. He hadn’t gotten any better, no matter how many antibiotics they’d pumped into him. His leg needed more attention than they could give him in the field. Penelope worried that if they didn’t get him real medical care, at the very least, he could lose his leg, at worst…his life.

More shots rang out and Penelope flinched again, but forced herself to crawl over to Wolf’s side. “What’s up?” she whispered, feeling stupid for trying to be quiet, but not able to help herself. They were hiding, it seemed like the right thing to do, but there was no way anyone would be able to hear her with the distance the gunshots were from their location.

“Gunshots.” Wolf’s answer was short and succinct.

“No shit, Sherlock,” was Penelope’s irritated response. When no one laughed, she got serious. “Are they shooting at us?”

“No.”

Penelope sighed. Getting information out of these men was like pulling teeth. She lay on her stomach, ignoring the twinges from her ribs, and crawled over to Dude and Cookie. She peered out of the cave and saw nothing. “Who are they shooting at?”

“Don’t know.”

“Is that good or bad?” Penelope asked.

“Could go either way,” Dude told her.

“So what’re we doing?”

“Waiting,” Cookie answered.

“Waiting sucks,” Penelope murmured, backing away from the front of the cave and heading back over to Abe. She wanted to take another look at his leg. She’d clean it again, hopefully that would help in some way.

G
host held
up his hand to signal his team to stop. They’d HALO’d into the country and made their way toward the coordinates Tex had sent to them. Ghost respected the hell out of Tex. He was someone who Ghost was happy to know. He was a man who knew how to get things done. And if Tex wanted a favor, Ghost and the rest of his team were more than happy to grant it. Lord knew he’d helped them out more than once.

Fletch and Coach fanned out to his right and Hollywood and Beatle came up on his left flank. Ghost knew Blade and Truck were protecting their rear. He crouched down and waited for the insurgents to show themselves. None of them figured they’d be able to march right up to where Tex said there should be at least four men without running into trouble. Soon enough, that trouble made itself known.

The warning came through his earpiece just as the first gunshot rang out through the mountainside. The Delta Force team quickly made their way toward the firefight, adrenaline coursing through their blood, ready for a fight.

The sound of gunfire was sporadic and loud as it echoed through the hills. Instead of rushing in with guns blazing, Ghost and his team operated like the apparition their leader was named for. Four terrorists were dead before they’d even comprehended someone was behind them. Ghost motioned for Fletch and Beatle to make their way west, and he, Coach, and Blade made their way east. Truck and Hollywood quietly headed up toward where they hoped they’d find the missing SEALs.

The operatives made short work of the remaining terrorists in the area, knowing full well more were probably on their way as they headed up to meet their teammates.

“Five to one,” Ghost heard in his ear.

“One, this is five, go ahead,” he responded.

“All clear to approach.”

“Clear.” Ghost knew the other men heard the exchange and they carefully made their way up to where the SEALs were supposed to be. They arrived to find four men, not six, and no kidnapped Army sergeant to be seen.

They were surprised to realize it was the Night Stalker crew of the helicopter. The copilot and the gunner were deceased. The pilot and crew chief were alive, but in bad shape. They’d been the ones shooting back at the terrorists and defending their position.

Ghost crouched down next to the pilot and watched as Truck checked him over and started first aid on him. He looked over to the crew chief and watched as Beatle did what he could to make that man comfortable. “Sit rep?” he asked the pilot.

“Eleven on board. RPG came out of nowhere and we went down. Copilot was killed in the crash.”

“Status of the others?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” the pilot told Ghost in a dim, pained voice. “I was mostly out of it. They spoke to us before they left, but not what their plan was. Some of them were injured.”

“The female?”

“Safe, Sir.”

Something loosened inside Ghost knowing that Sergeant Turner had apparently been rescued, but he didn’t let on. “They left you here?” His words were obviously not as toneless and emotionless as he wanted them to be when the pilot hurried to reassure him.

“Yes, but not like you might be thinking. They told me about the trackers they were leaving with us and made sure we knew the odds. We encouraged them to go. If they tried to take us with them, all of our chances would have been shit.”

Ghost nodded. He didn’t want to think badly of the SEALs. Thank God they were operating all on the same page. “Did they say where they were going?”

“Nothing other than up. They wanted to take a defensible position against the insurgents and figured their best chance would be up in one of the caves. They also hoped their moving would lead the terrorists away from us.”

Ghost nodded, knowing it was what he would’ve done if he was in their position too. He thought quickly about their next plan of action. He wasn’t going to leave these men here, not if he could help it.

He stood and headed off to the side and motioned for his men to follow. They gathered together out of hearing of the injured Night Stalkers.

He did what he always did, laid out their options so they could decide as a team their next steps. “One, we leave the Night Stalkers here and head up to find the SEALs and our sergeant. Two, we take the Night Stalkers with us and head up to find the SEALs and our sergeant. Three, we call in for a helo to pick up the Night Stalkers and after they’re up and away, we continue north to the SEALs and our sergeant. Four, we split up and three of us stay here with the Night Stalkers, and the rest of us head north. When we find the SEALs, we head back down here then call for pickup.”

Ghost’s men answered immediately with exactly the option he figured they would.

“Three,” Hollywood said.

“Three,” Beatle confirmed.

“Three,” Blade also agreed.

The others chimed in with their agreement as well and everyone chose option three, without hesitation. There was no way they’d leave their comrades behind for the terrorists to get their hands on. Delta Force teams were under the umbrella of the U.S. Army, but all Special Forces teams were all brothers at heart.

The SEAL team planting mysterious trackers on the injured Army crew saved at least two men’s lives. Ghost knew he’d be having a conversation with Tex about the trackers, and what the fuck an elite Navy SEAL team was doing wearing them on a top-secret mission. It was obviously not sanctioned by anyone at JSOC or the Navy, but at the moment he was damn glad for them.

Ghost nodded at his team, knowing they’d made the right decision, and reached for his radio. The right decision wasn’t necessarily the safest decision, but they’d deal with any fallout as it came.

Two hours and two skirmishes with insurgents later, an MH-60 came screaming over the nearest hill toward them. If Ghost hadn’t been used to it, it would’ve scared the shit out of him. Fletch and Coach grabbed the two deceased men, and Hollywood and Truck helped the two injured men into the helicopter. They’d barely handed the soldiers into the arms of the men waiting inside the chopper when it took off back the way it came. The entire rescue operation took about two-point-five minutes.

When the sound of the helicopter faded into the mountains, Ghost looked at his team. “Playtime’s over. Let’s go get our soldier back.”

The others nodded, faces determined. It wouldn’t matter how many terrorists got in their way. It was time to bring Sergeant Penelope Turner home.

R
eports have come
in about the helicopter crash we reported on last night in the mountains between Turkey and Iraq. A confidential source has reported to us that there were four men brought to Ramstein Air Base in Germany, two deceased and two injured. We have not been able to confirm their identities, but our source says they were in the helicopter when it crashed. There’s no word on whether any of the four people were female. We will continue to try to get more information and to see if Sergeant Penelope Turner was among the wounded or deceased who were aboard the helicopter when it went down. Tune in later tonight.

C
aroline stood
in front of the small television in her and Matthew’s bedroom and gasped after hearing the newscaster’s latest story. It didn’t say a lot, but it said enough. Helicopter crash. Two men dead, two men hurt, not a lot of information. Of course, there were six on Wolf’s team, but the news could’ve gotten their information wrong.

She could feel her heart beating way too hard, but no tears would come. She stood staring at the TV, even though there was a silly ad on. Caroline wasn’t seeing it, she was lost in her own worry and fear for her husband and her friends’ husbands.

“Hey, Caroline, where can I find… Caroline?” Melody’s words tapered off when she saw her friend standing in the middle of her bedroom, arms around her waist, whimpering softly. Melody went to her and put one arm around her, and put a hand lightly on Caroline’s cheek and turned her face so she could see it clearly. “What is it, Caroline?” Melody whispered.

She watched as Caroline blinked once, then twice, before literally pulling herself together in front of Melody’s eyes. “What? Um…”

Melody let go of Caroline’s face, but turned to the TV as the news came back on. Suddenly realizing what might have been wrong, Melody asked carefully, “Did they have a report on the helicopter crash in the Middle East?”

At her words, Caroline turned suddenly and looked her in the eyes. “Yes.”

“What’d they say?” Melody said softly.

“Two injured, two dead. They brought them to Ramstein Air Base in Germany.”

“Any other information?”

“No.”

Melody paused. “I don’t have any information, Caroline, but for what it’s worth, Tex thinks they’re coming home.”

Both women knew they were skirting the edge of what they promised they’d never do, speculate about their men’s missions, but realizing they each knew more than they’d admitted up until now was a relief.

“It’s worth a lot,” Caroline told her. They hugged each other tightly and didn’t let go until they heard a knock on the door. It was Akilah.

“Did you find paper plates?”

Caroline pulled back and looked at Melody questioningly.

Melody shrugged. “I came up to ask if you had any and where they might be. We thought it’d be better to serve everyone on the paper plates so we wouldn’t have to do dishes later.”

“Good thinking. And yes, I have some. I’ll come down and show you where they are.”

Melody nodded and she and Caroline linked elbows and headed out of the room and downstairs. Everyone was coming over to Caroline’s and would be there in about an hour. They were serving all finger foods and celebrating Cheyenne’s continued improvement and her new daughter. Cheyenne promised she’d reveal the name of her daughter that night as well.

She’d been as cagey as Kason was with his nickname and refused to tell them what she’d named her baby, saying she wanted to wait until they were all together. Caroline had rolled her eyes, but honestly didn’t care. Cheyenne was alive and healthy, so she’d wait until she was ready to tell them all.

Caroline was thankful for Melody’s help with the get-together. Seven adults, two kids, one near-teenager, two toddlers and a newborn were a bit daunting, even for Caroline.

Melody, Caroline, and Akilah worked alongside each other to put together various appetizers, a veggie tray, deviled eggs, and little peanut butter sandwiches for the kids. Cheyenne sat in the nearby family room, dozing before everyone arrived.

Finally when the food and drinks were almost ready, the other women started arriving. After all the greetings and cooing over Cheyenne’s baby was done, everyone scattered around Caroline’s living room. It was a tight fit, but they’d pushed the coffee table out of the way and brought up two chairs from the basement.

Cheyenne was in the big, fluffy armchair, holding her sleeping daughter in her arms. Jess, Summer, and Fiona were sitting on the large dark-brown leather couch, Alabama was in the other armchair, and Caroline and Melody were flitting back and forth to the kitchen, refilling drinks and bringing in more food for everyone when they ran out. They finally settled on the floor in front of the couch. Akilah was sitting next to Sara in front of all of them, playing with her quietly. John had finally crashed after running rampant throughout the house on his wobbly one-year-old legs. And even Brinique and Davisa had settled down and seemed content to be playing with some ancient dolls Caroline had unearthed from somewhere.

The room was full of love and contentment and Caroline was overjoyed to be a part of it. She thanked her lucky stars, as well as fate, every day that she’d been seated next to Matthew on that flight so long ago.

“All right, Cheyenne. Spill,” Alabama griped good-naturedly at their friend. “I swear if you think you’re gonna pull a Benny with us we might have to use drastic tickling measures to get it out of you. What is your beauty’s name?”

Cheyenne didn’t hesitate and smiled broadly as she announced, “Taylor Caroline Cooper.”

Everyone oohed and ahhed and got up to step closer to Cheyenne and Taylor to congratulate her…again. Everyone except for Caroline.

Davisa watched as Caroline slipped out of the room and into the kitchen. She was confused. She thought her new mom’s friend would’ve been happy to have the new baby named after her. She gave the doll she’d been playing with to Brinique, and followed Caroline.

She found her in the kitchen. Caroline was leaning against the counter with tears coursing down her face. “You aren’t happy?” Davisa asked.

Caroline jerked in surprise, not having heard anyone come in after her. She turned and looked at Alabama’s daughter. Her brow was furrowed and she looked terribly concerned…for her. Caroline wiped the tears from her face and tried to get control of herself. “I’m happy.”

“Why are you crying then?”

“Sometimes people cry when they’re happy, Davisa. I was surprised Cheyenne gave her daughter my name.”

“They decided on that name a long time ago.”

“What?” Caroline asked in surprise.

“Yeah, I heard her and Uncle Dude talking one night when they were looking after me and Brinique. They were laughing and giggling about first names, but Caroline was the first name they agreed on for her middle name.”

Caroline could feel the tears welling up again. Well shit. Davisa continued.

“Uncle Dude’s favorite name out of all of the names they talked about was Taylor, so I thought that was what Cheyenne would pick.”

“You’re a smart little girl. Did you know that?” Caroline asked, once again wiping away her tears.

“Yeah. I know.”

Caroline smiled. “Come on, let’s go back in and see little Taylor Caroline…shall we?”

“Okay, but I don’t like babies. I’ll wait until she’s older then we can play Barbies together.”

Caroline didn’t have the heart to tell Davisa that by the time Taylor was old enough to want to play with Barbies, Davisa would probably be too old and would’ve moved on to other things. She took her hand and they walked back into the family room. She saw Cheyenne look up in concern and Caroline went right to her, letting go of Davisa’s hand and watching her go back over to her sister and the pile of Barbie dolls.

Cheyenne grabbed Caroline’s hand as she got close and Caroline sat down at the edge of the chair.

“Taylor is beautiful. I’ve never been so honored in all my life.”

“Faulkner and I talked about it a lot. He has the utmost respect for Matthew, both as a man and as his team leader. If this baby was a boy, he would’ve had the middle name Matthew, but we figured we could just as easily honor the two of you by giving her your name as the middle name. It was the easiest part of naming this child, to tell you the truth.”

Caroline felt her lip quivering again, and waited until the need to burst into noisy, messy tears passed before speaking. “I don’t know how we all got so lucky, but thank God we all found each other.” There was so much more she wanted to say, but Taylor chose that moment to wake up and she let out a screech. That in turn woke up April, who added her cries to the commotion.

The women and children spent another few hours together, laughing and smiling with each other. Finally, when the kids started getting grumpy and sleepy, everyone packed up to go to their own homes.

Melody was leaving with Jessyka to help her out for a few days before heading home to Virginia. Alabama got her girls ready to go, including the entire box of Barbies that Caroline said they could use until they decided they wanted to play with something else. Fiona helped Summer gather up her things, and finally Caroline and Cheyenne were left alone.

The house was quiet again at last.

“As much as I love everyone, I have to admit I love the peace and quiet that is left when they’re all gone.”

Cheyenne chuckled softly, making sure not to wake up Taylor, who was sleeping peacefully in a portable crib next to her chair. “Yeah, I have a feeling I’ll be one of the people you’ll be glad to see the back of in a few months when Taylor gets a bit older and more demanding.”

The two friends smiled at each other. “You ready for bed?” Caroline asked.

Cheyenne smothered a yawn. “Yeah, I think so. Is it sad that I’m excited about going to bed every night?”

“No, you’ve had a tough few days. Give your body time to heal. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Have I thanked you for everything you’ve done for me, Caroline?”

“Yes, but you know I’d do anything for you.”

“Well, you being there when Faulkner couldn’t meant the world to me, and him. He’d say the same thing if he was here.”

“They’ll be home soon, I feel it.”

“I hope so.”

“Believe it.” Caroline helped Cheyenne up and out of the chair and lifted Taylor into her arms as they headed down the stairs to the basement. “You’ve got the walkie-talkie so you can call me in the night if you need help, right?” Caroline asked bossily.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Caroline sighed. “You won’t call me, will you?”

“No. But I’ll be fine. Swear.”

“Okay, but please know I’m here if you need me.”

“I do know it. And appreciate it.”

Caroline put Taylor into her crib next to the bed and watched as the baby shifted and then settled into a deep sleep again. She leaned over and hugged Cheyenne. “Thank you for honoring me as you did. I love you, woman.”

Cheyenne hugged Caroline back. “Love you too.”

Caroline left her friend and headed up the stairs. She closed the basement door and made sure all the doors to the house were locked. She checked the kitchen and started the dishwasher. They didn’t have many things to wash, only some platters and cups, but Caroline wanted to get the washing out of the way before she went to bed.

She turned off the lights, except for one in the kitchen, in case Cheyenne needed something in the middle of the night, and finally headed upstairs to her and Matthew’s bedroom. She got ready for bed and slipped on a T-shirt of Matthew’s. She crawled under the covers and pulled the pillow Matthew usually used into her body and cuddled it close. It didn’t smell like him anymore, he’d been gone too long.

After everything that had happened that day, Caroline finally let go enough to let herself cry. And it wasn’t a dainty cry. It was a gut-wrenching, I-miss-my-man, hope-he-is-safe-and-uninjured-and will-be-home-soon cry.

Caroline fell asleep with tears on her face and Matthew’s face imprinted on her mind.