Line of Fire (6 page)

“Arm?” Hayden asked after they’d settled into a hiding spot at the north end of the grassy strip. Brian O’Shaunessy and Neal Edwards were scouting the area looking for clues or teammates.

“Fine.”

Hayden raised an eyebrow. “Bullshit.” He’d seen Christian stretching and massaging the area more than once through the night. “Let’s see it.” Hayden shrugged out of his pack and pulled out his first aid kit.

Christian sighed and shook his head, but did as he was told. Hayden pulled back the bandages and dropped the bloody gauze pads on the ground. Angry red lines had begun to creep out from the wound. Hayden brushed his fingers over the skin lightly and swore. Bending closer, he fanned the area over the gash and swore again.

“It’s infected,” Hayden said flatly. If they didn’t get out soon, Christian’s life would be in danger.

“Great.”

Using some of Christian’s remaining water, he rinsed the wound before drying it, applied more antibiotic ointment and redressed it. Hayden brushed his thumb lightly over the part of Christian’s elbow before disposing of the bloodied waste. Thirty-five minutes later, two more team members arrived.

Christian greeted Jason Morganstern warmly and Hayden pushed back the unfamiliar twinges of jealousy. He turned away from the reunion between friends and scanned the area. Acknowledging Brian and Neal’s return, he continued to scan the jungle terrain.

“Save your strength,” Brian whispered clamping him on the shoulder, facing towards the small group. “Found the team.”

Hayden nodded. He didn’t ask the question. He didn’t need to. Brian and Neal had found part of the team, not the
rest
of the team. One word. But he knew his friend well enough to know what was being said and not said. Not everyone had made it to the extraction point. This close to potential enemies, there would be a communications blackout. And there was no way to know where the rest of the team was.

The small group joined their teammates, mentally noting who was still missing. Lieutenant Ellison ordered a perimeter watch set, while Tyler tended the wounded. The medic agreed that infection had set in, but wanted to hold off stitching it closed until they were back in civilization. Christian had the only gunshot wound so far, but one of the other guys had an animal bite and assorted scratches and lacerations.

Hayden rolled his shoulders and turned his attention back to the large group of Brazilian soldiers milling about the grass-covered tarmac. With their laid-back posture, it would be easy to underestimate them. They needed to avoid confrontation if at all possible. The kid was now running a fever in addition to the broken legs and God only knew what else was wrong with him.

“All in,” Brian said crouching down beside him.

“Good.”

“Ellison called the limo.”

Hayden smiled and nodded.

“Go on. Go see the boy. Everyone is getting antsy.” Brian smiled. “He’s a good SEAL.”

“He’s a good man,” Hayden replied lowering his voice.

“We’ve worked together before. I’ll agree that he’s a good man, but that doesn’t mean he’s a good lover or partner. Or good enough for you.”

“I’m so not having this discussion with you. Especially not here.”

“Someone has to look out for you. You’ve done worse.”

“Gee thanks, dad.”

Brian punched him lightly in the arm and sent him back to where the rest of their team gathered, talking in hushed voices. Three hours later, tensions mounted as three Russian-made Mi-24’s with the markings of the Brazilian Air Force and an American
Sea Stallion
approached the airfield. The
Sea Stallion
settled at the far end of the field, barely touching down before the door slid open and two men jumped out and motioned towards them.

Weapons up and ready, Hayden and three others ran forward, dropping to one knee in the grass, looking for any of De Luisa’s men. Scanning the area, he watched the litter approach the helicopter. Movement at the edge of the jungle caught his attention. Bringing the Colt 727
up, he tightened his grip, took aim and pressed the trigger slightly. Holding his breath, he waited.

“Fall back! Load up!” The order was shouted over the com system.

Hayden hesitated. The movement stopped. Loosening his grip, Hayden backed up several steps before turning and running, launching himself up into the
Sea Stallion
.

“Well, that was fun,” someone muttered as the helicopter lifted off.

“You want fun, join the Marines.”

“No, that’s easy.”

“No, easy is the Air Force.”

“The only easy day was yesterday,” Ellison said, his voice lifting slightly.

Hayden laughed along with everyone else and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. It definitely beat watching television.

Chapter Five

Christian clenched his jaw and stalked out of the Team HQ building. Light duty. He’d expected it. He still hated it. His wound had been stitched closed, with the exception of a small drainage tube, and bandaged. His arm still throbbed where the doctor had shoved a syringe of antibiotics into him.

Looking at his watch, he figured he had enough time to catch a game of pool and a beer down at Hell’s Dune before he needed to be home. His team had a report time of oh-six-thirty and—Christian swore. He was on light duty until the drainage tube came out of his arm and medical cleared him to return.

Twenty minutes later he sat outside the bar, contemplating his next move. The parking lot was packed. Beer and a round of pool with the team was tradition after returning from a mission. Sometimes the mood was somber, sometimes celebratory. They’d been back for just over twenty-four hours and tonight everyone would be at Hell’s Dune. Mission successful. Friday, there would no doubt be copious amounts of alcohol flowing, but tonight it would be sedate. No one wanted to work with a hangover.

Taking a deep breath, Christian turned the vehicle off and made his way into the bar, taking his hat off as he entered. Music poured through the sound system, loud enough to be enjoyed, but not overbearing. He wasn’t in the mood for socializing. Trying to shrug off his sour mood, he acknowledged his teammates and ordered a beer from Brick at the bar before making his way to the pool tables. Someone had gotten the bright idea of starting a pool league, and the current stats had been posted on the wall.

Eyes burrowed into the back of his head. Turning, he caught Hayden staring at him. Hayden raised his bottle and tilted it at him. Christian nodded, but didn’t raise his own glass. He hadn’t been prepared for the array of emotions rushing through him since they’d landed on the deck of the
USS Nimitz
. Hayden frowned and turned his attention back to his friends.

Finding a spot at a table where he could watch the pool game while still keeping an eye on Hayden, Christian sat down and was quickly joined by his best friend, Jason. He was partway through his beer when one of the waitresses placed a glass of pop in front of him.

“Sorry, honey, no more alcohol for you.”

“What? Why the hell not?”

“Brick’s orders. Something about not mixing alcohol and meds in his bar,” the girl said smiling sweetly.

Christian growled and set the half-full bottle down with far more care than he felt. “Fine.”

Beside him Jason laughed. Christian reached across the table and smacked his friend. Movement around Hayden catching his eye as he did. A very drunk Seiboweitz was pointing and shouting at Hayden. The music stopped. Hayden’s squad stood and stepped forward. Tension rose. Hayden had been outted and by the time they’d returned to Gooding, it seemed like everyone on base had heard the man was gay. It was evident Hayden’s crew had known, and they didn’t care about who he slept with. Christian wished it were that easy with everyone.

Seiboweitz stepped forward. Christian was halfway across the bar before he realized it. He continued without stopping. Stepping in front of Hayden, Christian crossed his arms.

“Back off Seiboweitz,” Christian ground out. He might not be willing to come out to his teammates, but that didn’t mean he could let Hayden face things alone.

“I don’t need defending,” Hayden protested.

“No, but
he
needs to know that other people will back you up and support you,” Christian replied, not taking his eyes off from the other man. He wanted to wrap his arms around Hayden, to make this easier. For both of them.

“Fucking faggot, thinks he can be a SEAL,” Seiboweitz said, his words slurring.

“He
is
a SEAL,” Christian said firmly. “He’s a trusted member of this team. He’s saved lives, including several men in this room. What does it matter if he prefers to sleep with men over women? Are you afraid he’s going to hit on you? Afraid that you’ll like it? What the fuck does it matter who he sleeps with? How does it affect you? It doesn’t affect the way he does his job!”

“I’m not a faggot!” Seiboweitz bellowed, staggering as he swung a fist.

Christian blocked the punch, used the momentum against the drunk, spinning him around and slamming him into a nearby wall and pinning his arm behind his back. “Smith! Come take his drunk ass home before he does something to get himself fucking court-martialed,” Christian yelled, calling for Seiboweitz’s dive partner.

“He’s drunk,” the dark-haired man said by way of explanation, joining the small group at the center of everyone’s attention.

“Doesn’t matter. He’s said it too many times. Too many people have heard for it to be a one-time-he’s-drunk incident,” Christian said, pulling the man away from the wall and turning him around to face the bar’s patrons. Every man in there was either an active or retired SEAL. Only rarely did Brick close the bar to the public, tonight was one of those nights. Tonight there were a handful of women present either waitressing or hanging out with other SEALs. It was more people than Christian wanted to know about their business, but Seiboweitz had chosen a public forum for his insults.

“None of the officers or senior NCOs are here. They’re already dissecting what happened earlier. Think about it,” Brian O’Shaunessy said, stepping forward and crossing his arms. “Personally, I don’t trust him. I don’t want to go back into the field with him.”

Christian didn’t look around, but the silence in the room was telling. Missions and lives depended on trust, on knowing that each man was going to pull their weight. That they would watch each other’s back. Putting the team above one’s self and personal glory was the nature of a SEAL. A man who couldn’t be trusted put everyone in danger. And their mission, while successful, had been seriously compromised.

“That’s harsh,” Smith said finally.

“He’s letting something that doesn’t matter affect him to the point of causing issues with another SEAL. He either can’t or won’t let it go. How do I know that some of what happened wasn’t because he wanted Hayden dead or wasn’t willing to work with him? How do I know Seiboweitz pulled his weight? I don’t,” O’Shaunessy said flatly, shifting his weight. “Defend him, control him, fuck him—I don’t care. But I don’t trust him. Get him out of here before he ruins the entire night.”

Seiboweitz launched himself toward O’Shaunessy. Christian was pulled off balance as he struggled to retain his grip on the drunk. “I’m going to suggest that you get Seiboweitz home to work off his drunk or mad or whatever the fuck is bothering him before anyone else hears him go off on his anti-homosexual rant or he does something that will get his stupid ass court-martialed. It’s not like we can turn a blind eye to this,” Christian said turning and pushing Ryland Seiboweitz towards his dive partner before turning to Brian O’Shaunessy. “And while he is way out of line, there is no proof that Seiboweitz either intentionally or unintentionally did not pull his weight or cause any number of other issues. Now either shut up and drink or go the fuck home. We do not need any trouble.”

Minutes later, the atmosphere of the bar was back to normal. Christian sat partially on a high stool picking at the label on the beer bottle before pushing it away and reaching for the Coke the waitress had left. He’d initially refused the pain meds, but the doctor had insisted. Fishing the pill bottle out of his pocket, he dumped a one large white capsule into his palm, closed the container and downed the pill and half the contents of the glass before ordering a soda. The antibiotics combined with the pain pill were enough without adding more alcohol.

“Dress whites, so what did they say?”

“Light duty until the drainage tube comes out,” Christian scowled.

“You knew it was coming,” Jason said taking a drink from his beer.

“Still sucks.”

“Here you go sweetie,” the short, slender brunette said, setting his drink in front of him, interrupting their conversation.

Christian returned the woman’s smile, his gaze wandering from the waitress to the other side of the bar where Hayden sat surrounded by his squad. His phone vibrated, he hesitated, contemplating ignoring it before withdrawing it from his pocket. Hayden’s name flashed along with the text message icon. He entered his password and tapped the little envelope.