Clarity (The Admiral's Elite Book 3) (2 page)

Her eyes, open impossibly wide, strained to see what her pilot easily could despite the surrounding darkness. She wished they could afford to hit the lights but there was no way they dared risk it. They’d been on the ground for too long and, if not the gunfire, the helicopter would surely draw attention from any local unfriendlies. It was possible not only Afghan forces would object to their destroying a cash crop like this one. A US action this close to the border could spark an international incident. There wasn’t even supposed to be heroin in the Faryab province; all the better to hide from interfering NATO and Allied forces.

“Fuck.”

That one harsh word whispered in her helmet mic rang loud and clear in Becca’s ears and she felt her breath go out in a whoosh.

“What is it?” She braced her small hands on the gun, fighting the urge to curl them into tight fists. “Is it Ryan?” Given her history with the big man it was more likely he would garner that sort of response from her rather than her commanding officer.

The answer was the loud series of clicks announcing Gabrielle was unbuckling from her safety harness. Fingers thick and clumsy with fear, Becca freed herself as well. Stepping around her mini-gun, she jumped out the open door, eyes searching as she hustled after where Gabrielle had disappeared into the dark.

Nausea gripped her and Becca felt a cold shiver of fear wash down her insides, coating her in ice and shaking her focus. In the next heartbeat her vision whited out and Becca heard the unmistakable harsh bark of automatic rifles, eerily familiar instead of the foreign “tink” sound she was expecting from the foreign weapons favored in this region. Unable to see or find her unit, Becca did the only thing she could; she dropped flat on her stomach and waited. The rifle stopped and she belly crawled in the direction she’d last seen Gabrielle running. Gravel raked her front, exfoliating at least a week’s worth of skin but she kept crawling.

A dog whined off to her right and Becca altered her course. Slowing her breathing and heart rate didn’t help. Her usual remedies for when her second sight acted up debilitating her vision and body function, weren’t helping; her panic for her comrades was too great. Fear for Michael was all encompassing. Frustrated, she sucked in a huge gulp of air. Unfortunately, it was exactly at the same time her face was even with a raised pile of sand and Becca ended up coughing and gagging until her eyes watered. Jamming her face into the crook of her arm, she attempted to hide her body’s explosive response at being treated like a bucket on the beach.

A hand grabbed the back of her jacket and Becca felt herself being lifted, moving quickly if the wind on her tear wetted face was any indication. Seconds later she was roughly deposited back on the ground with a thud.

“Thanks, Gabrielle.” She coughed one last time and shakily got to her hands and knees. Airway cleared at last, Becca took a breath and her nose caught the smell a soldier fears most in the field. Blood.

“Who’s hit?”

The dog whined again and Becca knew. Her heart froze. “Michael?”

***

He could hear her following Gabs and cursed. Michael knew Gabrielle would see Ryan hauling him along after he went over the wall. The blade that last guard wielded was more katana than  k-bar. Lodged in his spine, it nicked the nerve, which was why his legs weren’t working right. Blood loss in the field wasn’t usually too terrible, but loss of limbs was harder to work with. Especially when he was supposed to be running. Feet were necessary for that. Every second that ticked by he could swear he heard another chopper. With the way the sound was bouncing out here it could even be a drone. But whose? They had to get out of sight before any pictures were taken. How did they explain Ryan, currently in the form of a gigantic wolf? Since Bin Laden’s capture, civilians knew soldiers used dogs in the field. Maybe they would think he was a shepherd. On steroids. He snorted at that. If they saw Ryan as a man they’d definitely think steroids. The guy was a rhinoceros.

Gunfire erupted again. This one from another direction; a shooter fanning the general area hoping to get lucky. No NVGs there. Casting a searching glance the direction of the shooter, Michael deemed it too far for an accurate shot with his M4 so he left the two carbines he’d been carrying strapped to his back. Ryan got up to pursue and Gabrielle stopped him with a hiss.

“There’s no time. We’ve been here too long already.”

Ryan’s whine turned into a growl and he licked his chops, frustrated.

“She’s right, Ryan, we don’t have time. By the time you get up that hillside we’ll have company for sure.” Michael put a hand to his wound, surprised when it came away soaked. He wasn’t healing as quickly as he should; his throat was on fire. The damage must be worse than he thought. There was no time to worry about that.

Someone else knew they were here and Becca was out there in the dark. Alone. He was pissed all over again at himself for getting stabbed. Gabs must have seen him struggling after Ryan pushed him over the wall and came to help, like any of them would. But she’d left Becca undefended. And now there was a shooter who, even without night vision, might get lucky and hit one of them. His dead heart froze. Unless he wasn’t trying to hit them. What if he was pinning them down until reinforcements came? What kind of a mess had they walked into? This didn’t smell right from the first shot and it just kept getting worse. They were definitely double checking that Intel source when they got home. Maybe diverting money and starving them out wasn’t enough for someone anymore.

“Gabs, go get Becca, we have to move fast.” Michael rubbed his hand against his ribs, the wetness there making a splishing sound.

“Can you move on your own?” She gave a nod to his barely functional legs.

“I’ll manage.”

Ryan took a few steps closer and sat down. He had one of his pack’s straps in his teeth. 

“Yeah, best not to change back just yet. We don’t have time for you to get dressed.”

He gave a playful yip.

“Quit trying to show Becca your ass,” Michael growled, not entirely kidding. He caught Gabrielle’s tight features and grimaced. The touchy feely side of management wasn’t his thing, but the way they worked together was important and if Gabrielle was struggling, it was a concern. “You good, Gabs?” he asked, a little softer.

She gave a quick nod and hopped up into run. Momentarily, she returned and deposited a wheezing and choking Becca beside him. Everyone dropped as a spattering of rounds sprayed harmlessly off to their left. Yep, this guy was holding them down. No one was that bad a shot unless it was on purpose. He cut the tall blonde a glare and she held up her hands, backing up a step to rest on her heels. Ryan whined in greeting. The breeze carried Becca’s sweet scent mixed with perspiration to him. His mouth watered and his fangs hummed in his gums.

“Michael, are you hurt?” Becca’s panicked voice cut through him and ran his tongue over his teeth, willing them back.

He’d put teeth to her only once and, although she forgave it as a consequence of passion, he did not. He wanted to reach out to her, to take her in his arms and reassure her. But they were under the gun. Literally. There was no time for comfort. “I’m fine. We have to get back to the helicopter. I think this guy’s holding us for bigger guns.” His assumption was met with silence and Michael knew they didn’t disagree. Still, she held a shaking hand out, patting the sand and he gritted his teeth. “Becca, can you see?”

Biting her lip, she shook her head.

Cursing under his breath, Michael exchanged glances with Ryan. The dog dipped his muzzle. He would help guide her. Thankfully it wasn’t too close to the full moon or this depth of comprehension wouldn’t be possible for the wolf. The closer the moon waxed to full, the more animal the wolves’ minds became. They were mid cycle so essentially it was like having a human in a furry body. Much easier on an operation such as this. “Becca, take Ryan’s pack and keep a hand on his fur. He’ll get you back.”

“What about you? You’re bleeding.” Her hand had found him and, landing on his leg, had run up until she felt the wet front. He’d soaked through to his pants already and was still leaking. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” To her credit she didn’t flinch.

“I’m fine.” He glanced up at Gabrielle and she rolled her eyes, but gave him a tight lipped nod. She would help him. “We’ll go on my count. Each pair swings wide and we meet at the bird. It’s not far; we should be fine.” Fairly certain they were nearly out of range, he was also assuming the shooter was alone. If he was wrong, they could be in a lot of trouble. And Becca could be dead. The vampire inside him rumbled.

Being careful to wipe his palm on a dry patch of his clothing, Michael put a hand on Becca’s arm and felt her relax. He had that curious effect on her. If it weren’t for the fact that he needed to lean on someone stronger, he would have her with him. “Let Ryan lead and you’ll be fine.” More than a little of his influence rolled out before he remembered it didn’t work on her. Not for the first time, he wished it did. It would make life so much easier
.
So would her blood
,
the vampire inside him hissed and Michael clamped down on it. Not an option.

Hesitant to touch and hurt him, she put her hand over his and squared her shoulders. “I’m ready when you are.”

Michael gave the signal and made sure Becca was off and moving with a hand clenched deep in Ryan’s fur. The yip the wolf made gave him a little smile before he looked to his crutch.

“Need me to carry you?” Gabs asked, no hint of sarcasm. She’d seen his flight from over the wall and understood the severity of his injury.

He shook his head, lips tight. “No, I can walk.”

Scooting closer, she wrapped his arm over her shoulder and together they hauled him to his feet. Immediately, he swayed.

“Let’s go,” he said harshly before she could argue.

It was a rough run back to the helicopter. Michael scurried into the back and Becca, given Ryan’s current form and inability to change and dress without hitting numerous buttons on the control panel, had to sit in the front. Gabrielle flew high so they had no need for a man on the guns. Their seating arrangement was for the best, Michael decided when the scent of his own blood in his nostrils gave way to the allure of hers. That was when he knew he was in trouble.

***

By the time they landed at FOB Delaram amidst roughly three hundred Marines, Ryan was in the appropriate form and dressed. Michael, however, was in bad shape. He knew as soon as the rotors stopped pushing the air away he would smell the airmen sure to come assist. Damn it, that was his worst nightmare; killing a human because of his own weakness. The night he turned he’d done exactly that and, consequently, avoided close contact with humans since. Until Black brought Becca on, that is. Faced with a decision, one he didn’t relish, his inner turmoil must have been obvious.

“Hey Becca, can you hop back here?” Ryan called through to the front.

Vision apparently cleared and eager to get to him, she made it into the back in a matter of heartbeats. Heartbeats. Blood. He felt his fangs growing and he hated himself.

Ryan’s big hand rested on his shoulder. “It makes sense, Mike.” He glanced up at Becca, already kneeling beside her lover, giving her a tight smile before turning back to Michael. “You won’t hurt her.”

“What if you’re wrong?” His need was great, he could feel the burn growing in his throat.

Gentle green eyes hardened. “You think it’ll go better with one of those Marines out there? How would you feel about yourself then? You love her, you’ll stop. With them, you won’t.”

He was right and they both knew it. If there was any chance of him getting what he needed and not killing anyone, Becca was his best bet.

Peering down, her hazel eyes looking unusually large in the dim interior light. Petite and small featured, Becca told him people often mistook her for a teenager and not a twenty-two year old Navy MP. That had been her life before the admiral took her. That’s what it was when the admiral decided he wanted someone. It wasn’t recruiting or transferring because the soldier had no choice, and there was no out. Becca was in with them for life, and hers was terrifyingly more fragile than any of theirs. She was human. Humans were fragile. He was a fool to neglect that. Her safety his responsibility, both as his lover and a part of his unit.