Collateral Damage (6 page)

On the ground below them the vehicles from the wave they’d stopped in its tracks lay burning, clouds of black smoke streaming into the clear air. She had no idea how in hell the attack had even happened but there had to be some sort of catastrophic breakdown of security to result in such a thing.

“More targets approaching from the northwest.” Liam’s voice was calm and unhurried as he swung them around and headed in that direction. A few moments later he spoke again. “At least one triple-A in sight.”

Honor’s heart rate jacked up. A vehicle-mounted anti-aircraft gun, capable of shooting down bombers and fighters…as well as big, slow-moving Chinooks. Her hands sweated inside her gloves as she shifted her weight and adjusted her stance, thumbs still hovering over the twin triggers. They had to destroy the AAA before it fired at them.

The crew chief called over his shoulder at her and Ipman. “I got nothing yet. You?”

“Negative,” they both responded.

The pulse from the powerful twin rotors beat against her eardrums despite her ear protection, the big aircraft vibrating as it flew toward the new threat. She shoved back the alarm trying to rise inside her, refused to allow herself to be afraid. Liam was one of the most skilled and experienced pilots in the United States military. She had to trust his ability to get them close enough to take out the AAA without becoming a target themselves.

“Got a visual of the target,” the crew chief suddenly announced.

Honor didn’t bother glancing back at him, too intent on locating the target. Liam turned them again and at last she spotted the AAA. It was old, probably left over from the Russian occupation, and likely Chinese-made. The crew chief opened up his weapon on it just as Honor took aim as well.

Something streaked toward them.

“Incoming,” Liam warned, and put them into a climb so steep Honor had to grab at her harness tether to stay upright. She winced as the straps dug into her flesh wound. The sudden increase in G-forces made it feel like her stomach had been shoved down into her abdominal cavity. Before she could do more than grit her teeth and hold on, someone in the cockpit fired the chaff and flare launchers on the Chinook’s fuselage.

Streams of white smoke and bright white light streaked through the air in front of her. The lumbering Chinook pitched hard to port, dropped, then rose suddenly in another steep climb. Honor gripped the handle on the doorframe and held on, praying the evasive maneuvers were enough. Nothing exploded, which she took as a good sign and then the crew chief opened up again with his minigun.

As the helo leveled out Honor grabbed the rear of her weapon and searched for a target. The instant she saw the AAA she hit the triggers, unleashing hell on the mounted weapon. Between her and the crew chief, the AAA disintegrated in a matter of seconds. Torn to shreds by the hail of fire it exploded in a fireball.

A wave of satisfaction raced through her.
Yes!

Liam turned them to the starboard this time and maintained their altitude. Honor glanced toward the tail. Out the opening above the closed loading ramp Honor could see another Chinook and two Black Hawks engaging other targets, already burning in the distance.

“Heading back toward base,” Liam announced. Everyone was silent as the minutes ticked past while they circled Bagram, searching for any more threats. Honor saw nothing but open desert and the scattered, burning remains of the failed attack.

“No other targets reported,” Liam said. “We’re returning to base.”

Honor uncurled her fingers from around the handles of the minigun and let out a deep breath of relief that it was over. But then biology took over.

Now that the threat was neutralized and she knew she was safe, the adrenaline that had been flooding her system began to wear off. The wound in her shoulder started burning like someone had aimed a blowtorch at her skin and her headache came back full force. Her breathing was shallow and she could feel the slight jerking of her muscles as she began to shake a little.

She stayed silent, struggling to get a grip on her nervous system and even managed to flash Ipman a thumbs-up when he called over to her. She became aware of the warm, sticky blood still leaking from her shoulder, of the throbbing in her battered elbows and already stiffening hip. She’d definitely need at least a band-aid once they were on the ground. Outside her window the dun-colored scenery passed by in a blur, a slight numbness beginning to take hold of her. At least it dulled the pain.

She’d just killed people. Probably dozens of them. Sure it had been justified but she’d never taken a life before and—

“Girard. You good?”

It took her a moment to realize the other crew chief was speaking to her. She turned her head to look over her shoulder at him and gave him a thumbs-up as well. He was grinning at her. “Good shooting.”

Honor forced a smile and turned back to stare out her window for the remainder of the flight. While hovering over the base she could see the emergency crews dealing with the fires the rockets had caused, and others rushing the wounded toward the hospital. She knew they’d taken casualties in the attack, she just hoped there weren’t many. She’d have someone look at her shoulder when things calmed down.

Warm air rushed through her window. Within a few minutes they were coming in to land on the tarmac near the hangar she’d been in when the attack had started.

After hovering for a few seconds just above the ground, the wheels touched down. Then one of the pilots hit shut down and the sound of the engines immediately changed as the big rotors began to slow. Ignoring how clumsy her hands were, Honor undid her safety harness and removed her helmet. Her hair and face were damp with sweat. The pounding in her head seemed to double.

She rubbed the back of her neck to ease the tension there and turned toward the aft of the aircraft as the crew chief lowered the ramp, wanting to get out of there as soon as humanly possible. She didn’t want to see Liam, wasn’t up to another awkward conversation at the moment.

The acrid smell of burning metal grew sharper as she moved stiffly across the deck. There’d be a debriefing and paperwork and God knew what else to complete. She might even catch hell for doing what she’d just done, though she was pretty sure they’d go easy on her due to the circumstances.

She couldn’t handle facing Liam again though. Not while she was dazed and shaken and off her game.

Ipman was waiting for her at the bottom of the ramp when she stepped onto the tarmac. He ran a concerned gaze over her. “You okay?”

She nodded and kept walking, wanting to put as much distance between her and Liam as she could before he climbed out of the cockpit. She’d go see Erin at the hospital soon enough, have her friend look at her shoulder, maybe check her head to make sure she wasn’t concussed. She felt a little fuzzy. “You?”

“Yeah, good.” He ran a hand through his sweat-slicked black hair. “Man, that’s something to tell my kids when they’re older, huh?”

“Yeah.” It was certainly something she’d never forget.

He eyed her as they headed for the hangar. “So how was the minigun?”

“Efficient,” she murmured, trying not to think about it because every time she did the images of those pickups exploding into flames seemed more vivid.

His mouth stretched into a wide smile. “Fucking-A.” He chuckled under his breath, staying at her side as they stepped out of the sunlight and into the blessed shade of the open hangar.

“Girard.”

She cringed at the sound of Liam’s voice calling her name and stopped.
Shit, no avoiding him now.

Bracing herself, she took a deep breath and turned around to face him. He stood near the lowered ramp with his two fellow Night Stalkers, hands on his hips and helmet still on, commanding and strong and still the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen. She dreaded his next words.

His expression was inscrutable as he stared at her. “You and your sergeant need to come with us.”

She’d sooner be shot at by that triple-A again.

Ipman glanced at her for direction and she relented, knowing she didn’t have a choice. She started walking toward Liam, careful to keep her gaze averted so she wouldn’t have to look at him. He turned away before they reached him anyhow, heading back toward the Spec Ops part of the base. Though she knew she’d done the right thing under the circumstances by manning that weapon, her stomach still knotted as they approached the heavily guarded gate.

She’d broken a shitload of regs by hopping on board that Chinook, let alone by firing a weapon she wasn’t even qualified on. Still, considering the base had been under attack, she was pretty sure she’d be in the clear.

Ipman was silent as they made their way through security into the Spec Ops area. Liam glanced back once, as though to make sure she was still following, then strode for the nearest building. The young crew chief who’d recruited her held the door for her—Yates, the nametag on his utilities read—and offered her an encouraging smile that did nothing to dispel Honor’s dread before following them up the hallway lined with offices.

At the second one from the end she and Ipman waited outside while Liam and the others spoke to whoever was inside. Okay, her shoulder fucking
hurt
now and her shirt was stiff with dried blood. Maybe she—

Yates stuck his head out. “Come on in.”

Hands fisted at her sides, Honor stepped inside to face the two-star general seated behind the desk, trying to ignore Liam standing near the wall to her right.

“Shut the door,” he said to Ipman, his grim expression telling Honor everything she needed to know. This wasn’t going to be any fun at all.

As he started firing questions at everyone she started to fade out. She could see the general’s mouth moving, plainly read the anger burning in his gaze as he spoke to Liam, but the words didn’t register. She remained in place, expression impassive as he began to tear into her and the others, then stopped suddenly, his gaze flashing to someone behind her.

“
Ms. Girard
.”

It took her a second to realize that Ipman had already addressed her once. She looked over at him, startled. “What?”

His eyes shot to her right shoulder then back to her face. “You’re bleeding.”

She nodded once, opened her mouth to tell him she knew, that it wasn’t serious, but Liam suddenly stepped forward. He took one look at the back of her and muttered a curse under his breath. His hand reached for her, but the harsh expression on his face made her flinch and step back.

Liam froze, his hand inches from her upper arm. He stared at her for a long, painful moment before lowering his arm and turning his attention to the general. “Sir, permission to take Ms. Girard to medical.”

“No, it’s nothing,” she protested, embarrassed at the unwanted attention. But when she glanced down she realized her upper sleeve and back were saturated with blood.
Guess maybe I’ll need more than a band-aid then
.

“Fine,” the general said, “but this still needs to be dealt with.”

Ipman gently took her elbow. “I’ll take her.”

To her surprise Liam cut Ipman a lethal look that would have made a lesser soldier shake in his combat boots. “
I’ll
take her.”

Honor bristled. His territorial, apha-male bullshit was neither welcome nor appreciated, especially since she knew she meant shit to him personally. “I’ll take
myself
,” she muttered through gritted teeth and turned for the door, just wanting to escape.

Her hand was slightly unsteady as she pushed the door open and strode out into the hall. Before it swung shut Liam was there, only a few steps behind her. “Honor, wait.”

He’d only called her that because they were alone. For some reason hearing him say her name hurt more than whatever was buried in her shoulder. Steeling herself against him, Honor squared her shoulders and didn’t respond as she strode for the closest exit.

She’d already made the mistake of waiting for him once and she wouldn’t do it again.

When Honor didn’t slow or even acknowledge his presence, Liam cursed under his breath and broke into a jog to catch up to her. He couldn’t blame her for ignoring him, since he’d been giving her the cold shoulder for the past few months. Their past didn’t matter at the moment though, and he didn’t give a shit whether she wanted to see him or not because he was going with her to the hospital.

By the time he caught up to her she was already pushing the exterior door open. He reached past her to hold it open, splaying his fingers against the glass. It wasn’t a surprise that she didn’t look at or acknowledge him but he was losing patience with her refusal to admit how badly she was hurt.

Not knowing what to say, he followed her toward Joint Craig Theater Hospital, sweeping his gaze over the back of her as they walked, taking in the blood soaking through her upper sleeve. Why the hell hadn’t she told him she’d been injured when he’d called out to her back at the hangar? Even though they weren’t together anymore, she had to know he would have helped her, right?

Guess not, genius.

His jaw clenched as he followed her, his eyes zeroing in on the damage. There were a half dozen quarter-sized holes in the back of her body armor vest and the upper half of her right sleeve was now almost completely saturated with blood, spreading out toward her shoulder blade. She must have been hit before hopping on his bird. He felt a surge of admiration for her. He respected the hell out of her determination and toughness.

Liam shook his head. If not for the Kevlar she’d have suffered broken ribs, maybe even internal damage, depending on how far the shards penetrated. The thought made his stomach knot in fear and the raw intensity of his reaction shocked him. Considering how hard he’d fought to get over her and move on, it was a giant sucker punch to realize he hadn’t. Not even close, if the giant fist squeezing his stomach was any indication.

He couldn’t stand the brittle silence between them a moment longer. “What happened?” he asked, staying right beside her.