Breaking Through (Book 2 of the SEAL TEAM Heartbreakers) (21 page)

“You did once. I’m hoping you’ll do it again.”

She felt heat rise from her throat to her cheeks. She couldn’t say it was a mistake because it was what she had wanted. Dear God, how she’d wanted him. But this desire to protect him was something she’d never experienced before. “I have to go. I’ll call you with firm plans to meet with Ian when he arrives.”

“What are you afraid of, Tess?” he asked before she hung up.

She hit the button without answering. But she couldn’t avoid the answer in her own mind. She was afraid of being a disappointment to him.
Of not being enough
.

CHAPTER 18

Yasin listened to the soft sound of his wife’s breathing. Levla had cried out in her sleep during the night and had only quieted after he’d drawn her close. He studied the smooth skin of her cheeks and the graceful curve of her brows. At their wedding, she had been the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. After eighteen years together, he still could think of no other woman who compared to her.

The first time they’d lain together, he’d been surprised and pleased by her responsiveness.  But neither of them had been interested in lying with one another since Sanjay’s disappearance.

He ran the backs of his fingers against her cheek. If he woke her now, could they lose themselves in each other for a time?

When his cell phone rang, Levla moved in her sleep to cover her ear with the pillow. Yasin swung his legs over the side of the bed and answered. His gaze traveled across to the hall to his daughter’s room. She, too, burrowed further beneath the covers.

“I have a number for you,” a strange voice said in Arabic.

“One moment.” Yasin rushed from the room and down the hall to his office. He scrambled to find a pen and paper.  “Yes.”

The man recited an American exchange. “Use the phone that was delivered to you. Should anything happen, destroy it.”

“Yes, of course.”

“He will be awaiting your call.”

Before Yasin could respond, the line went dead. He lowered himself into his chair. He studied the number for long moments.  If he did not call Tabarek, would he go on with what he planned to do? Tabarek’s hatred for the Americans was strong enough for them both. Yes, he would move forward with his plans for them. But what would Tabarek tell the men who worked for him here? Would they come here searching for him? Would they hurt his family?

Yasin bent, opened the bottom desk drawer, and retrieved the cell phone that had arrived two days ago. He keyed in the numbers, and a familiar raspy voice answered. “I am in San Diego. I have found one of the men responsible for your son’s death and my brother’s.”

“You worked very quickly.”

“There are others here who are in agreement with my cause.”

Sweet Allah. He had not expected that. “That is fortunate.”

“The other SEAL is in jail.”

“For?”

“American women are whores. They lay with so many men, they cannot even identify the fathers of their children. They must go on television to discover it. The SEAL attempted to kill his mistress because he believed her unfaithful.”

He could understand the man’s desire to kill his woman for being unfaithful. But if the man were guilty of attempted murder, did that not make it almost certain he had killed Sanjay?  He’d believed his hope had died, but the thought cut him like a knife.

“He is surrounded by bars that are both a prison and a protection. I have not yet found a way to get to him.”

Why did he feel relieved? He wanted him dead, didn’t he? “He is already being punished.”

“Not enough.”

“And the other man?”

“He is often on the military base. But I will be seeing him soon.”

 “And then it will be over,” Yasin said.

“No, my friend. Then I will find the others as well. I will call when it is done. I will need more money to leave the country.”

He had no more money. He had given him all he had to fly to America. How could he get more?

“I will try,” Yasin said into the silence.

“You will do better than try. Otherwise, your daughter may have to be sacrificed. She is lovely. Almost as beautiful as your wife.”

Rage shot blood into his face and made his ears ring. “You will not threaten my family.”

“You knew there would be a price to pay.”

Yes, he had.
Allah help him.
There always was.

***

Muzzle flashes lit the darkness to the west, illuminating the silhouettes of buildings on the distant horizon. Though the bullets were blanks, the sound seemed all too real. Hawk drew a deep breath of the cold desert air.

They’d worked their way across the hard-packed sand and taken cover. Now troops were tracking them. He’d been right. They were reliving their mission in Iraq And whatever sadistic SOB had ordered this was really pouring it on.

“I’m getting tired of this shit, L.T.,” Doc said from beside him.

The binding around Hawk’s knee simulating the injury he’d received while saving Brett provided a reminder he didn’t need. “We can’t call in an AC130 gunship to rain artillery on the guys, so we need to go to plan B.”

“Which is?” Lang asked from beside Doc.

“You’re going to leave me and Greenback here, and you and the men are going to work your way through the opposition while I hold down this position. Then you’ll swing around behind them and take them out.”

“That isn’t how it went down, L.T,” Doc said, his voice flat.

“Just because they’re ramming déjà vu down our throats doesn’t mean we can’t change history.”

 “There are at least thirty men out there. They’ll capture or kill you,” Langley said.

“Not without a fight. This is the hard decision, Lang. If there’s no ground cover, and no out for you to escape with an injured man, what do you do?”

“You don’t leave a man behind,” Lang growled.

“You do if there’s a chance you can save the rest. And then you come back for him.” Gunfire came closer.

The eyes of all four men settled on him.

“This could have been the real deal. It’s always a possibility.”

“What do you have in mind?” Lang asked.

“The men will have to ditch their packs and move light. Does anyone have any flashbangs?”

“I have a couple,” Doc said.

“Me, too,” Jeff Sizemore, the new guy, spoke up.

“Give me yours, Sizemore.” The Seaman handed the two canisters over.

Hawk slapped a spool of trip wire into his hand. “Doc, take Sizemore with you and show him how to rig them as booby traps. I’ll have to set them off manually when the troops get into range. We just want to scare the shit out of the guys, not hurt them.”

Doc’s grin flashed white in the darkness. “I’m on it. Come on, Jeff.” The two crawled out of the trench into the darkness.

The sound of gunfire crept closer every minute.

“The enemy was firing blind that night. It was pitch black. Chief Howard may have changed that scenario. That means you need to stay close to the ground and move fast.”

“They’ll be bearing down on you pretty quickly. And there’ll be another unit moving in from the south,” Lang said. “I read your report.”

He wasn’t going there. It had gotten hairy. “How you doing, Greenback?” he asked.

With his head wrapped in bandages, his body secured to a makeshift stretcher, and an IV in his arm, Greenback looked very much like Cutter had that night.

“I’ve never felt more helpless in my life. Not sure I like it, either.”

“Roger that,” Hawk agreed. “Wish I’d won the coin toss instead. I could use a nap.”

Greenback chuckled.

Doc and Sizemore backed out of the darkness, one behind the other, as they each fed out trip wire.

Hawk slapped Langley’s shoulder. “Get moving.”

Doc shoved the wire into his hand. “They’re about twelve feet apart, fifteen feet out.  You pull the first one, you may not need the next. We’ll be on them.”

Hawk punched Doc’s shoulder. “Play for keeps, Doc.”

“Roger that.”

The men disappeared into the darkness. Hawk checked his weapon, turning it to full auto.

“Do you think you could really make the same call if you had to?” Greenback asked.

“Only if I didn’t have any other choice,” Hawk said. He remembered Zoe’s words during the short deployment they’d been called up on. Luckily they’d never left the base, but before he left, she’d held him close and whispered in his ear, “Do whatever it takes to come home.  Whatever it takes.” He’d promised her he would. If this were a real mission, could he make the same decision?

He prayed to God he never had to find out.

Sporadic fire sped closer. The men playing the bad guys were taking their job seriously. He spied stealthy movement across the desert terrain at thirty feet. His NVGs revealed greenish shadows crouched and moving fast. He positioned his weapon and waited. If he fired too soon they’d pin down his position and be on him. He had to wait and give Lang a chance to work his way into position.

His heart raced and sweat ran down his back despite the cold. Just like that night.

Five guys, moving in sync, crept toward him. Fifteen feet was close. Shit.

If the flashbangs were real grenades, they’d take out at least four and injure more. Would the men fall as though injured, as they should?

Five more feet and he’d pull the pin on the flashbang. Four, three, two, one. He pulled the wire on the first grenade and turned his head aside to keep from being blinded. A loud pop sounded and all hell broke loose. Fire erupted to his right. He raised his gun and fired at the first tango that stepped through the smoke. Paint from the Simunitions round splattered the man’s vest and he fell, pretending to go down.

Suddenly there were seven more there.

Hawk pulled the other wire setting off the other flashbang and turned his face away so the flare wouldn’t impede his vision.

Simunition rounds hit the back of the ditch he lay in. The percussion of the grenade popped.

“Cover your face, Greenback,” he yelled as he rose out of the ditch and pulled the trigger on the M4, spraying the advancing men with fire. Blinded by the flash they returned fire but the rounds went wide. Florescent yellow paint bloomed on their vests one after the other, and they fell out of sight.

“Hawk, hold your fire!” A voice came over his radio. The acrid smell of gunpowder hung in the air.

Lang came through the smoke, his distinctively shaped jaw recognizable. “We caught them in a crossfire, Hawk. They’re down. The chopper is one minute out.” Sure enough, Hawk could hear the distinctive sound of helicopter blades echoing across the desert. Sizemore, Turner, and Doc came at a run.

Once aboard the chopper, Hawk radioed back to the Chief Howard. Everyone had come through the simulated battle unhurt. 

The new men, Sizemore and Turner, high on adrenaline, were trash talking. Doc was freeing Greenback from the bandages and IV.

“Those flashbangs were a stroke of genius. They weren’t expecting them,” Lang said.

“Something to think about next time.” He smiled at Sizemore and Tyler’s high fiving. He had once been the new guy and remembered exactly how it felt the first time you kicked ass.

“Senior Chief Thornton will want to debrief us as soon as the other men arrive back at base.”

Hawk nodded. He set aside his rifle to unwrap his knee.

“You know how many guys we took out, Hawk?”

“No. I counted eight from where I stood.”

“There were twenty-five. And you took out almost a third, without getting hit.”

“They were blinded by the flash.”

“A third. That’s fucking amazing.”

It was amazing no Simunition rounds had hit him. The trainees would get hell tomorrow because of that.

“If it keeps Senior Chief off our asses for a while, I’ll be fine with that.”

“Copy that.”

And he’d kept his promise to Zoe. Even in a simulated fight, he’d made sure he’d come home to her alive and well.

***

Brett settled in one of the deck chairs on the small balcony, enjoying the lingering smell of outdoor-grilled steaks. He studied his mother’s face and smiled. Her skin had taken on a light tan and she looked … different somehow, but he couldn’t quite define what about her had changed.

Spending time with her was both stressful and relaxing. Relaxing because he was always assured of her unconditional love. And stressful because he was so tempted to come clean about what was happening in his professional life. He couldn’t dump his problems on her, not yet. Not until it became a code red and he had no choice. But keeping it to himself was a form of lying, and he felt guilty every minute they spent together and he didn’t come clean.

“I haven’t been neglecting you, have I, Brett?”

Surprised by the question he leaned forward. “Geez, no, Mom. You’ve been great.”

“I just worry that I haven’t been spending as much time with you as I should.”

Brett grinned. “I haven’t been around much. In fact, I was feeling the same way about you.”

Clara smiled. “Maybe we can make a date. I’m pretty booked up this week, but say next Tuesday, if you’re off, I’d love to drive up the coast and take some pictures.”

“I think I can arrange that.”

“When do you think you’ll be getting orders?” she asked.

He laced his fingers together. “I don’t know. My CO’s still dragging his feet.”

Clara was silent for a moment. “He’s still testing you, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged and fought to keep his tone light, though bitterness edged in.  It didn’t look like Jackson would grow a pair any time in the immediate future.

Clara reached between their chairs and grasped his hand. “As a mother, my instinct is to march on base and kick Captain Jackson’s ass. But I don’t guess that will help anything.”

Brett laughed. “No. But I could sell tickets and make some cash.”

Clara smiled. “Your speech glitch is better. I can tell. It’s helped you being on post, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah. The more I concentrate and use my training, the easier it comes.”

“Good. This time isn’t wasted, honey. You’re regaining your balance more every day.” She squeezed his hand and released it.