The Navy's Ghost (Bad Boys of Beta Squad) (28 page)

BOOK: The Navy's Ghost (Bad Boys of Beta Squad)
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“LT, be advised,
the commander says he needs a tango for questioning,” Deli reported.

“Say again
? We need one alive?” Retro shot his radioman an incredulous look.

“Yes, sir.
Bowstring says this cell is a hub.”

“Fuck.” Retro signaled all stop. The squad froze. “Rimshot, be advised.
Bowstring needs a tango incapacitated but alive.”

“Say again?” Rimshot whispered, but Retro heard the disbelief.

“Bowstring needs a live one.”

“Copy that.” The disgust came through loud and clear despite Rimshot’s even tone. “I have eyes on the span and
six, I repeat, six tangos visible.”

“Copy that. Make one of them our winner.”

“Roger that. Rimshot out.”

Retro gave Deli a thumbs-
up and signaled for the rest of the squad to get moving. They hugged the river’s shoreline, only taking to higher ground at an odd protruding rock painted like a Northwest Indian crocodile. The leering grin and wide staring eyes followed Retro as the squad crouched at the base of a concrete wall. According to the map of the dam, the room where the women were being held sat above them.

Retro
directed the others to keep watch as he whistled a familiar tune the squad used for identification. He held his breath as he waited for a response. The wind shifted the tall Douglas firs around him, making them creak and rattle in the hiss of rain. After thirty seconds, Magic caught his eye and shook his head. Retro whistled again.

Silence.
Where the hell are they?
Dread settled deeper in his gut.
Please God say they’re not dead or unconscious.

He took a breath to whistle again when sharp reports of gunfire
bounced off the concrete walls behind them.

What the fuck!

“Rimshot, report.” Retro waved at Magic to head for the front of the dam. “Have you engaged the enemy?”

“Negative, LT. Gun shots came from inside. Tangos on the span moving to intercept. Should I let them go?”

“Negative. Take them down.” Retro followed after the men as they sprinted up the slope to the front corner of the dam. “Moving to investigate shots fired.”

“Copy that. Be advised, smaller building on south side of the dam seems to be a barracks. Several targets emerging.” More gunfire sounded from the front of the dam.

“Roger that.” Retro scanned the ground ahead. “Bam-Bam, Deli, lay down cover fire from the trees beyond the clearing. Magic and I will take the front.”

The men nodded and dispersed, heading
toward the trees as Jim caught Todd’s gaze. They’d be going in after the women and God help the bastards who got in their way.
Keep one alive, my ass.
Orders or no, if they touched Chris, the motherfuckers would die.

Bam-Bam and Deli disappeared
between the trunks and Jim led the way behind the shrubs along the dam wall, heading for the single entryway. Before they’d gone more than a few steps, the door burst open and a single person scanned the cleared area in front of door. Moments later, a hail of bullets battered the door, making the small occupant duck.

“Shit!” She checked
the magazine in the AK-47 she held and tilted her head around the edge of the door, her hair waving in wild tendrils. She jerked back as more bullets pinged off the metal. “Sonuvabitch.”

Jim had never been so happy to hear Ghost’s epithets in his life and
shifted toward her just as Deli and Bam-Bam laid down cover fire.

Chapter
Nineteen

 

 

Chris
shifted her shoulders as she took a deep breath to calm her heart. They had little time, but she didn’t need it. Though she didn’t present much of a threat in her camisole and yoga pants with her disheveled hair frizzing around her head, the AK-47 clutched at her side represented a whole different story. She raised her chin and stood her ground, defiant.

The big man sneered and shouted to his companion inside.
“The infidel bitches have tried to escape.”

MaryAnn whimpered and
Lindsey pulled her close as they faced down the threat

“Pray to Allah for His deliverance, whore,”
he rumbled in Farsi.

“Pray to God for yours.” Chris snapped her weapon up before squeezing off a short burst of rounds.

The gunshots deafened her as they tore through the slower terrorist. He dropped with a scream. Chris darted forward and aimed the muzzle around the door, spraying the interior of the office with a barrage. The sharp tang of gunpowder stung her nose as she paused and peeked around the door.

Blood painted garish stains behind the riddled body of a bearded man. Chris
yanked the office door closed and stepped over the carcass on the floor as she headed for the main door.

“Come on. We don’t have much time.”

Lindsey and MaryAnn shuffled after her, MaryAnn emitting a horrified squeak as she picked her away around the body. Chris threw the door open and checked the clearing. A single van steamed a little in the cool, wet air, but nothing else moved. She almost stepped out, but a hail of bullets pinged off the door and she ducked.

“Shit!” Twin gasps from the women still inside made her pull the magazine from the AK-47 to check the ammo. A little over half a clip. Chris peeked around the door and jerked back before the next barrage. “Sonuvabitch.”

How would she get the women safely to the trees? Half a clip wouldn’t do it, though she could trade it with the one Lindsey held. Chris turned to instruct the former cop to hand her the other weapon when the hair on the back of her neck rose in visceral awareness. She stared hard at the wall along the building and held her breath. Someone or something hid there, watching, waiting. She shifted the rifle’s muzzle toward the wall as her pulse raced and her hands held steady.
Bring it, motherfucker. I’m ready for you.

New gunfire rattled through clearing, but Chris kept her gaze locked on the wall.
Come on, I know you’re there
.

Two dark shadows rose to about six feet in height and she raised the rifle to match them, taking a slow, deep breath as her finger settled on the trigger.

A whistle of the Kookaburra song crossed the distance between them and Chris’s shoulders relaxed. The dark shapes resolved into Retro and Magic, and she fought the urge to throw herself in their arms as relief unclenched her belly.
So much for being a bad-ass SEAL.

More gunfire clattered against the door behind her and she inched back toward the building to avoid any
bullets coming through. Lindsey and MaryAnn huddled against the office wall, their eyes wide.

“The
squad is here. Trade me weapons, Lindsey.”

“Oh, thank God.” MaryAnn peered around
the other woman as they exchanged rifles, looking for the SEALs.

“The only way out is across open ground to the woods.”

“What about the van, Chris?” Lindsey pointed, but the windshield of the vehicle in question shattered and two of the tires hissed in their death throes from ill aimed bullets. “Got it. How far is it to run?”

“Run? I can’t run out there! They’re shooting at us.” MaryAnn shrank back against the wall.

Chris resisted the urge to throw her hands up and say,
Fine. Stay here. I’m done with you.
But she sealed her lips together against the words as Retro and Magic crowded her back into the building. One of them stepped on her foot and she yelped, elbowing him.

“Watch those big feet, guys. I gotta run on mine.” She snarled into Magic’s face to hide her girly relief at their c
ompany. He merely grinned and hauled her up against his body, his equipment digging into her belly. “Hey, lemme go, Magic. We don’t have time for this.”

“You’re probab
ly right, but I’m takin’ the time anyway.”

He gripped her head and crushed her lips to his, stealing a swift kiss
. Chris sank into his musky sandalwood scent. “Sweet mercy, I’ve missed you, darlin’.”

Chris wanted to melt into his embrace and revel in his strength, but she couldn’t forget
Lindsey and MaryAnn.
Even if I’d like to ignore the latter.


Get your mind back in the game, Magic.” But she kissed him back deeply, accepting his offering. “We gotta get the civilians outta here. Where’s the LZ?”

He reluctantly set her at arm’s length while he scanned her body for injuries.

“We’ll have to hit the secondary. Front’s filling up with tangos.” Retro shouldered the door open and scanned the gravel drive. “Hunter, check the others for injuries and let’s go.”

Magic squeezed Chris’s elbow and moved to check on
Lindsey and MaryAnn. Chris glanced at Retro, but he kept his gaze trained on the world outside.

“How bad is it?”

“Not great. But Bam-Bam and Deli are laying down cover fire.”

Chris grimaced. “How far to the trees?”

“Forty yards, but we’re not going that way.”

“We’re not?”

“Nope, we’re headed back north. We’ll use the door to secure our retreat.”

That wasn’t too bad. “How far is the secondary LZ?”

“One klick.”

“Shit.” Two of them wore no shoes.

“What?” Retro scanned her face, his expression tight when he caught sight of the body on the floor. “Are you injured? Did he hurt you?”

“No
.” Chris shook her head and grimaced. “No shoes.” She wiggled her dirty toes. “MaryAnn either. I can run it, but she’s gonna be a problem.”

“Aw,
hell.” Retro’s face closed down, but not before disgust flitted across his features. Chris’s curiosity ignited, but she didn’t have time to ask about it. “Chief, give me a sitrep. Can we move?”

“Yes, sir, all set.” Magic’s gaze rested on Chris and
joy flashed through his eyes, but his face remained stoic.

“Good.
” Jim pressed this throat com. “Bam-Bam, Deli. We’re moving out. Heading for secondary LZ. Bring up the rear and cover our tail.”

Chris heard nothing and her throat closed. She used to be part of the closed circuit, the radio reports. Now she’d become an outsider, watching the others work.
You can whine and cry later. Just get your ass and those of the others home.

Retro glanced at the wome
n, the corners of his mouth quirking down briefly before he turned his head.

“Let’s go.
Chief, take the women and head for the LZ. I’ll hold the door.”

Magic ushered the women forward. “All right, ladies. Stay close. We’re headed out and around the back. Ready?”

“I can’t do this. I don’t have any shoes.” MaryAnn’s whine made Chris grind her teeth and turn her head toward Retro before she bitch-slapped the woman.

She caught
Retro’s mouth tightening with the same disgust, but he adopted the great stone face she’d seen the night she’d gotten shot and gave her a sharp nod. “Let’s get going, Magic. Deli, Bam-Bam, we’re moving out. Rimshot, Bronco, we have the targets. Heading for secondary LZ now.”

“But…but…” MaryAnn’s protests faded into the background as Magic pushed open the door and practically dragged her through, shoving her against the wall.
Lindsey followed under a hail of gunfire at the new target.

Chris turned to Retro and resisted the urge to go all girly again. “Thanks for coming for us, Retro.”

His stony expression relaxed and tenderness filtered into his gaze. “I’ll always come for you, Ghost.”

“I know. It’s your job, but it still means a lot to me.” She gave him a bright smile and turned to follow the others.

Retro grasped her arm and jerked her back, holding her nose-to-nose with him. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. I would’ve come even if it wasn’t my job.”

“And you did. Thank you.” She patted his cheek and tried to pull away. She was done pushing him for more. He’d made it clear he didn’t want it.

Bullets rattled the door and one pinged against the opposite jamb, breaking through at last. Retro grunted with frustration and pulled Chris in for a short kiss. “I want you, dammit. But now’s not the time.”

Gunfire from up close pulled Chris’s attention as Bam-Bam and Deli thundered toward them. Gratitude for the interruption swelled. She didn’t need any false hopes r
ising up, even when her heart cried out for more.

“Fuck! Gotta go. Hit the wall, Ghost. Time to run.”

Retro shoved her forward and Chris didn’t argue as the other SEALs laid down cover fire. Her bare feet hit sticks and pinecones, but she didn’t hesitate. Bam-Bam caught up to her and slid in behind, protecting her with his armored body.

“MaryAnn has no shoes.” Chris
panted as she skidded around the corner and threw herself down the decline.


Shit! Got it. You okay?” Greg did a quick scan.

“Yeah.
Go help her.” She wouldn’t burst his bubble. Just because MaryAnn was a lying, cheating harlot didn’t mean Greg should have to deal with it now.

Greg shot ahead and caught up to the other women. Deli pounded along beside Chris and
winked as they dodged trees and shrubs. The AK-47 banged against her side with each step, but she held on gamely, working her way deeper into the trees.
Where the hell are we going?

Deli had pulled ahead when Chris’s lead foot landed wrong, twisting on a sharp rock.
Screaming pain shot from her foot as she fell, curling into a ball to protect her head. She bounced off a fallen log and something popped in her shoulder before the ferns stopped her descent. More pain ricocheted through her body as she came to rest, trying to gather her wits beyond the agony.

Tears squeezed out her eyes as she reached for her foot and a whimper broke free. She caught sight of blood on her heel before her shoulder refused to operate.
Not now, dammit. I don’t need to hold the squad up.

Her adrenaline rush slowly faded as Retro appeared a few paces away, his face an intense mask.

“Retro,” Chris whispered, wishing like hell she had a radio set.

The
lieutenant froze and scanned the underbrush, crouching to make himself a smaller target. She wished she could wave, but her good hand clamped around her opposite elbow and she refused to move. “Retro, here.”

He zeroed in on her and picked his way to her position in silence
. Her ears rang so loud she couldn’t tell if the world had gone still or he’d developed a new skill. The great stone expression returned to his face as he knelt beside her and he pressed his larynx radio, whispering for Magic to get his ass back to them.

“I’m okay, Retro. I just need to get up.”

He shook his head. “Woman down. We need you, Magic. Deli, Bam-Bam, proceed to secondary LZ with targets. Rimshot, Bronco, meet us there.” He listened for a moment. “All targets secure and en route, Bronco. So far limited pursuit. Deli, radio base and have paramedics standing by.”

Retro dropped his attention to Chris.
“Stay where you are, Ghost. Magic is thirty seconds out.”

“No, I can get up. We don’t have time—”

“Let Magic check before we move, okay?” He’d gentled his voice.
That’s never a good thing. Dammit, I’m letting the squad down again.

“I’ll be okay.”

“Yes, you will, but Magic will confirm.”

“Dammit, I know when I’m okay or not.”

“Just sit tight.” He tore open a Velcro pocket and pulled out a bandana as his other hand clasped her left heel. “You’ve cut your foot.”

Magic appeared, vaulting over the downed log to land beside her
with a dull thud. He scanned her body, taking in Retro’s tourniquet and the odd angle she held her left shoulder.

“What
were you tryin’ to do, Ghost? Go for the gold medal in tumbling?” His voice held sarcasm, but his face screamed concern.

“Bite me, Magic.”

“In your dreams, LT.” He flashed a grin before slinging his pack to the ground and pulling out a small field first aid kit. “Looks like you dislocated your shoulder and cut your foot. Didn’t your mama teach you about runnin’ outside without shoes?”

He handed Retro the antiseptic wipes for her foot and
ran his hands over her body with practiced assurance. Chris wished she could enjoy his touches, as impersonal as they were, but the pain in her shoulder and foot dragged her attention away. New fire tore through her awareness as Retro cleaned out the gash on her heel and she groaned.

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