Never Surrender (6 page)

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Authors: Lindsay McKenna

BOOK: Never Surrender
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Oh, God...

Bay turned away. If she didn’t, Gabe would see her tears. And she knew with great certainty, it would tear him apart. No, she couldn’t let Gabe see her like this. Fighting herself, Bay gulped and moved into the Security line, quickly swallowed up by other passengers crowding in behind her. She could feel his eyes on her back, feel his love encircling her. It was crazy, but she could feel it as easily as she felt her breath raggedly drawing in and out of her lungs.

Only when she’d passed through Security, did Bay get a hold of herself enough to turn and look back at him. Gabe stood alone now, his hands at his sides. He wore a dark blue T-shirt that showed off his powerfully lean upper body, his jeans barely hiding how sexual and sensual he was to her. His face... Oh, Lord, his face was so hard. She understood he had to be that way or he’d break down, too. Lifting her hand, she touched her fingers to her lips and blew him a kiss. It was all she could do, now separated and unable to run back into one another’s arms.

Bay saw Gabe lift his hand in acknowledgement and then gave her a hand signal they’d created between themselves. He lifted his hand, placed it over his heart and then extended his hand outward toward her. A deep love welled up through her, giving her strength at the last minute. She repeated that silent hand signal back to him and then watched as his hard expression dissolved into a slow, male smile filled with so much heat and love for her. She was his. Gabe owned her heart and soul, and he knew it. And so did she.

Turning on her boot, Bay walked down the long corridor that would take her by commercial flight to Seattle Sea-Tac International Airport. From there, she’d hop an Air Force C-5 going across The Pond, the Pacific. They’d stop in Hawaii, refuel and then fly to Bagram Air Base near Kabul, Afghanistan. And then, she’d find a medevac or Black Hawk heading out to Camp Bravo, hitch a ride and find her Special Forces team that she’d join.

As she forced herself to walk away, put space between Gabe and herself, Bay touched a leather thong around her neck, hidden beneath her cammie blouse. Gabe had fashioned a small sterling silver ring on the top of the jaguar’s back. He’d strung a fine, thin piece of sturdy leather so she could wear it around her neck while in Afghanistan. The jaguar lay over her heart.

A fist of serrating grief shoved up through her, and her throat tightened painfully. Head down, Bay tried to hide the tears that fell out of her eyes and down her taut, pale cheeks. At least, Gabe had not seen her cry this time...

CHAPTER SIX

“R
EZA
!”

Reza turned. His eyes widened enormously where he stood within the Shinwari village. “Is that you, Baylee?” His mouth dropped opened as she waved enthusiastically at him, jogging toward him in Special Forces cammies, her medical rucksack on her back. His smile increased as she drew near. Happiness danced in her blue eyes as she halted, taking off her soft cover and grinning at him.

“It’s so good to see you again!” Bay said in Pashto to her old friend. She said to hell with Muslim protocol because she’d worked with this man two times before. He accompanied U.S. black ops as a tracker and interpreter. “Can I hug you?”

Reza, who was in his middle thirties, giggled. He opened his arms. “I know how to be an American! Come here!” He laughed, striding up to her and throwing his arms around her.

Bay hugged her Afghan friend tightly. Tears came to her eyes as she stepped back from him. “It’s so good to see you. I didn’t know you were here. Are you staying long?”

He wiped tears from his eyes, too. Reza had worked with Special Forces near the border with Pakistan with her two years earlier. He knew the Hindu Kush mountains, their thousands of caves and the goat paths so instrumental in tracking down Taliban, better than anyone else. His family had been slaughtered by Sangar Khogani, a Hill tribal warlord, several years earlier. His wife and five children had been cut down before the guns and curved knives of the brutal Taliban. Since then, Reza had pledged his life to helping the Americans eradicate the Taliban from his beloved country.

“I will be here for a while, yes.” He shook his head. “You look beautiful in my eyes, Baylee. Something must have happened since I last saw you. You are better filled out, not so starved-looking as last time. And I see happiness in your eyes. Tell me, what has happened?”

Bay looked around the village where she was to remain for the next six months. “I’m engaged to a very good man, Reza. We’re going to be married when I get off this rotation.” She sighed. “He’s wonderful, Reza. Gabe is...well...I just never thought I’d ever meet someone like him.” She smiled softly, missing Gabe so badly. “I’ve just gotten off a helo from Camp Bravo and have to go see Captain Drew Anderson. He’s the head of the SF team here. After that, let’s have tea and catch up.”

“Of course, of course,” he murmured. “Come, I’ll show you where the team is staying. So, you are replacing the medic they lost?”

Nodding, Bay shortened her stride for Reza. He was only five feet four inches tall. “Yes, I have to give him my orders. And then I’m sure he’ll give me his orders.” She laughed.

Originally, Reza had made a living as a cobbler, making shoes for his and other villages. He was greatly loved in the valley near the border. Not the leader of the village, but his kindness toward all earned him a special place in the hearts of everyone. And when she’d met him two years ago and worked six months with him, they’d become fast forever friends.

Bay’s heart lifted with joy because Reza was someone she could honestly talk to. He was a trusted adviser, worked as a terp, interpreter, and was often asked to lead black ops teams into the Hindu Kush to hunt down HVTs, high value targets. The Taliban had a high price on Reza’s head. They wanted him badly because he knew the Hindu Kush like the back of his hand, better than anyone else and certainly better than any American did. He’d been born in them, grown up there and was intimately familiar with the tall mountains and thousands of caves where the Taliban hid. The black ops Marine Force Recons, Army Special Forces, CAG/Delta Force and Navy SEAL teams all wanted his help and knowledge. Since Reza had begun working to avenge his family’s death with the Americans, Taliban deaths had increased two hundred percent. Bay thought that was one helluva way to get even.

“Captain Drew is a very nice man, Baylee. You will find him even-headed.”

She smiled and clapped his shoulder. “Levelheaded, Reza, but I know what you mean.”

He flashed her a shy grin, his face sun darkened, bearded, his black hair long across his shoulders and receding in the front. He dressed like all Afghan males, but she had always seen him as cosmopolitan and worldly. He was one of the few Afghans to get the macrocosm view on his country and his people. He was a fierce fighter in a firefight, and she was so darned glad he was here, with her. Bay knew Gabe would be happy to hear about it. Maybe he wouldn’t worry so much, she hoped.

* * *

A
RMY
C
APTAIN
D
REW
A
NDERSON
was bent over his planning board with his warrant officer and four sergeants when Bay entered the one-story mud house in the center of the village. They all looked up in unison. No doubt, they recognized her immediately. On the left side of her cammies was the black medical symbol. Relief came to the blond-haired commanding officer’s face. The man straightened up, his gray gaze quickly assessing her.

“Petty Officer First Class Baylee-Ann Thorn reporting as ordered, sir. I think you were expecting me, sir?” She pulled out her orders from her pocket and handed them to him.

“We’re damned glad to see you, Thorn,” Anderson muttered, swiftly perusing her transfer orders. He nodded and introduced his second-in-command, a young man of about twenty-four, Warrant Officer Jerry Bannister. Bay shook his hand. The four sergeants were older, and she knew they were the backbone of any SF team. They all eagerly shook her hand, knowing she was an 18 Delta medic. Anderson dismissed the group, wanting to talk to her privately.

“Have a seat, Doc. You ready for some black coffee that’ll curl your toes?”

Bay liked the officer’s laid-back humor. He was about thirty-five years old, and she saw he wore a wedding ring on his left hand. She thought about her own engagement ring Gabe had given her that was tucked away in the top pocket of her Kevlar vest. A warm feeling of sadness and missing him moved through her. “Uh, yes, sir, coffee doesn’t scare me, but the Taliban sure does.”

He chuckled darkly and poured two mugs. Both white pottery cups were chipped but salvageable. Anderson handed one to her as he sat down at the planning board across from Bay. “I’ve got to tell you, I’m damned relieved you’re here, Doc. Losing our other Doc...Sergeant Brokelman, well...it’s been a hard loss on all of us.”

“Yes, sir, I’m sure it’s been rough on everyone. I know how tight SF teams are. You’re like family.”

“Well said. I’ll have my team sign those top secret papers your general needs shortly, so no worries. I’ll send them on to General Stevenson.”

Bay felt him probing her a little. “You ever worked with any Operation Shadow Warrior women before?” she asked.

Shaking his head, he said, “No, but frankly, I don’t care what your gender is. You’re an 18 Delta medic, the best we have in any branch of the military. You’ve already earned your stripes with me, Doc.”

“Do you think I’ll have any blowback from the rest of your team because I’m a woman?”

“No, these men have been with me for four to five years, and we’ve been through plenty together. Most of them are married. Only two who aren’t, but they’re engaged. How about you?”

“Engaged, sir.”

“To who?”

“A SEAL, sir. Chief Gabe Griffin.”

He nodded, assimilating the intel. “Yeah, I ran into his team just before they left to rotate out of Camp Bravo last year. Good man. He’s lucky to get you. Congratulations.”

Bay felt his sincerity. “Thank you, sir.”

“Well,” he said, a slight grin on his face, “SEALs are known to be damned protective of their women. I don’t suppose he’s any different?”

She chuckled a little. “No, sir, he’s the same.”

“I guess I’d better treat you right then, or he’ll be climbing my ass. SEALs don’t really see officers any different than enlisted people.”

“That’s true, the rank and ratings blur in the SEAL community, sir.”

He sighed. “Let me give you the lowdown, Doc. My sergeants have gotten you a small, abandoned mud home about two blocks down from our HQ. The Taliban is trying to put new rat lines through this valley. For the last year, the Shinwari tribe people have been absolutely terrorized by the Taliban. They don’t want them going through here, and neither do we. But, as you know, the Taliban doesn’t take no for an answer. Our medi, Brokelman, was seriously wounded in a hot firefight three weeks ago. The enemy keeps probing us. They hide in the mountains, strike at night and then disappear before dawn. We’ve put an SF team in all three villages, and we’re trying to stabilize the area and help the people, who are frantic with fear, to give them some security. They hate the Taliban as much as we do.

“A number of them have gotten night letters. And you know when a family finds one tacked on their door, it’s a death card. The Taliban utilize hit-and-run raids, and they’ve got some damned good snipers among them. They shoot mostly children as a way to warn the villages that if they continue to support Americans, they’ll continue killing them.” His mouth grew grim.

“That’s terrible,” Bay whispered, her heart breaking over the thought of children arbitrarily being murdered. She knew the Taliban was ruthless and used stone-age tactics against anyone who was their enemy. And in Afghanistan, it usually worked. Few villages had the weaponry and manpower to fight them off. They had to rely entirely on American support and help.

“It’s sickening,” he growled, shaking his head. “You’re going to have to watch your step, Doc. I’m not going to take you out on patrols. I want you here, in this village. I know you’re combat trained, but I cannot afford to lose another medic. This village is far from safe. You’re going to have to watch yourself all the time. Don’t get distracted. The Taliban have sent men in, and they’ve kidnapped some of the elders, demanding money or they decapitate them. Just stay alert, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Bay murmured, actually happy she wasn’t going to be patrolling. She wanted to get home safe and sound to Gabe, to get on with the rest of their life. Maybe she had a short-timer’s attitude, but she didn’t care. Fewer bullets would be thrown at her, less chance of being killed or injured.

“You’re going to be a genuine asset. You know Pashto and you’re a female medic, so you can start tomorrow morning by finding a place to set up a clinic to help the women and children. I’m sure some of the men will drop by, too.”

“Yes, sir, they bend the rules when necessary. I’ve come equipped to handle both genders.”

“Good.” He finished off his coffee. “You know Reza?”

“Yes, sir, he and I have worked together before. He’s a trusted ally, sir.”

“Good to hear. He’s going to be leading us up into these mountains to the east of us for the next month, teaching us the trail systems and pointing out new rat lines to us. In the next few weeks, we’ve got to get a handle on these damned raids and stop them cold in their tracks.”

“What about drones, sir?”

He snorted. “The CIA has authority over all the drones and flies them out of Camp Bravo. I’ve been on their ass every day by radio, begging them to give us one over the valley. They keep stonewalling me.”

Bay frowned. “Sir, have you contacted Chief Phillips? He’s running the new SEAL platoon that just rotated into Camp Bravo. I worked with the SEALs over there last year. Different platoon, but I think if you can fly in and see the chief, he might be able to swing a drone your way.” She shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, sir.”

He smiled, rising and rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I can go lower myself to the SEAL Chief, get down on my knees and grovel for mercy,” he grumbled.

Bay realized Anderson was teasing her. “They’re good guys, sir. Kept my butt out of a sling a number of times last summer.”

“Yeah, they always take the fight to the enemy. They don’t blink when there’s gunfire. Anyone else who has any brains is running away from it. But those guys get a gleam in their eye, grab their M-4s and they’re running as fast as they can toward the damn fight.”

“They wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said with a smile, feeling pride for them and for Gabe. “They’re very brave warriors in my book, sir.”

He sighed and studied the map across the planning board. “No disagreement, Doc. We might be Army and they are Navy, but we’re Americans and that’s what really counts. We’re over here doing the same job.”

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“About a sniper? You said the Taliban are hitting the villages in this valley?”

“They are. I don’t have a sniper on my team.”

“Well, sir, why not ask the SEAL Chief if he’s got any guys who might want a little extra hunting challenge over here? They like doing sniper work.”

“Any chance your fiancé, Griffin, was one?”

She laughed. “Yes, sir, he is. I learned a lot from him.”

“It’s not a bad idea, Doc. I’ll give the Chief my sad song, and maybe he’ll feel sorry for an Army son of a bitch and lend me some SEAL help, since I can’t get a drone assigned to us.” He regarded her and said, “Glad you’re here, Doc. Go get situated. Any one of my sergeants will be more than happy to help you adjust to your new digs here. Any problems, see me directly. Okay?”

Bay stood up. “Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed, Doc.”

Bay turned, set her cup on the planning board and shrugged the heavy ruck over her shoulder. She exited the stifling confines of the windowless house.

Reza stepped from between the houses, grinning like a fox. “Well, did you like Captain Anderson?”

“Very much,” she said, walking with him. “Do you know where my house is?” Reza knew everything. She’d come to rely on his almost photographic mind.

His face brightened. “I do! This way!”

* * *

G
ABE
WAS
EXHAUSTED
as he sat down at his computer in his condo. Bay had been gone a week, and he was worried because she hadn’t checked in with him. She’d promised to try and Skype him. He knew she could only do that at Camp Bravo, not in the valley where she was located.

His fingers itched to type an email to Chief Phillips to see if Bay had gotten to Bravo yet. He’d called Phillips shortly after Bay had flown out of Lindbergh Field. Phillips had rule over the entire platoon and was the man who could make anything happen by coordinating with the three officers above him. When Gabe had told him Bay was his fiancée and that she was in the area, he promised to keep an eye on her. He slept a little better knowing that. SEALs took care of their own.

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