Page 2 of Captivating Nash

They broke through the tree line, the clearing just ahead. The chopper was there, waiting, the rotor wash whipping through the air like a cyclone.

But then he saw it—through the smoke and haze, a flash of movement. A sniper.

In one fluid motion, Nash pivoted, bringing his rifle up. He aimed, squeezed the trigger, and felt the recoil just as the enemy sniper’s shot went wide, burying itself in the dirt inches from where Nash had been standing.

“Go, go, go!” Nash shouted, waving the rest of the team toward the chopper. The roar of the engine was deafening, the downdraft from the rotors sending waves of dust and debris swirling around them.

Nash covered the rear, his eyes scanning for any more threats. The team was almost aboard—some alive and some wounded. As much as the thought of leaving their dead behind weighed on him, he would have to sacrifice them to save the others. But before he could follow, another explosion rocked the ground beneath them—a grenade, tossed from somewhere behind. Nash hit the deck, his body rolling instinctively to absorb the impact.

His head spun for a split second before he forced himself up, his body moving on sheer muscle memory. He could hear his team yelling for him, see the chopper hovering dangerously close to the ground.

He didn’t stop. Nash sprinted toward the chopper, his boots pounding the dirt as bullets rained down around him. His body burned with exhaustion, but the adrenaline kept him moving, propelling him forward. With one final push, he leapt onto the skids just as the helicopter began to lift off, Jinx pulling him inside.

They ascended rapidly, the ground falling away beneath them. Nash lay back, his chest heaving, blood trickling down his arm from the flesh wound.

The jungle blurred below as they soared toward safety, but Nash’s mind was still back there—back in the firefight, back in the chaos. One last mission. One last taste of war.

It had been close—too close.

But they’d made it. For now, at least, they were headed home, and that was all that mattered.

Nash, a ruggedly handsome man with sandy hair and piercing pale blue eyes, stood on the tarmac, the midday sun beating down on his bare arms and heating the layers of muscle beneath his skin. He was decorated—too many medals, too many tours, and too many sleepless nights— but the weight of all of that hadn’t hit him until today.

Today was his last day as a Navy SEAL.

His eyes swept across the scene in front of him, the endless line of C-130s parked in neat rows, the noise of a bustling military base filling the air. In the distance, he could hear the rhythmic hum of choppers preparing for their next deployment. The sound usually brought him peace, a steady reminder of the work he did, the men he led. But today? It felt different. Today, it was hollow.

Nash adjusted his grip on the duffel bag slung over his shoulder and flexed his fingers around the worn strap. His body moved like a machine—disciplined, controlled. He’d spent his entire adult life in this world, navigating life-or-death situations with the ease of a man who knew his role, knew his purpose. But now, stepping out of that world felt like walking on unfamiliar terrain, each step uncertain.

The mission—the one that had brought him to this final point—hadn’t been easy. His mind drifted back to the jungle, to the thick humidity that clung to his skin, the smell of gunpowder, and the searing pain from a bullet grazing his side. He could still hear the frantic radio chatter, the adrenaline-fueled commands he barked into his mic, and the sounds of explosions rattling the earth beneath his feet. But they’d done it—most of his team had come out alive.

One last mission. That had been the promise.

It hadn’t been like him to take that final assignment. His team had tried to talk him out of it, saying his record spoke for itself, that he didn’t have to prove anything anymore. But Nash needed closure. He needed to end his career on his terms.

No regrets.

"Maddox!" a voice called from behind him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Admiral Broadmore, the man who had trained him, had helped to shape him, and in many ways, had become the father figure he’d never had.

"Sir," Nash replied, standing a little straighter, instinctively reverting to the discipline drilled into him over the years. Broadmore walked up, his usual stern expression softening slightly. If there was anyone Nash respected, it was him.

"Feels strange, doesn't it?" Broadmore asked, his tone casual, but there was something else beneath it—something Nash wasn’t ready to acknowledge just yet.

"Yeah," Nash said, his voice gruff. "It does."

Broadmore gave a slow nod, then handed him an envelope, his fingers lingering for just a second too long before he let it go. Nash felt the weight of it—more than just paper and ink inside. There was history, there was respect, and there was finality.

"You earned this," Broadmore said, his voice quieter. "And you earned your exit. Go live your life, Nash. You've given enough to this country."

Nash nodded, but the words felt distant, like they were meant for someone else. He’d spent so long beingthe man—the one they could count on, the one who never hesitated, the one who always came through. And now? Now he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be—all he knew was he wanted to find out.

The plane behind him roared to life, engines whirring as it prepared to take off. He didn’t have to look to know it was his ride out of here, his official exit from the life that had shaped him into who he was.

"See you on the other side," Broadmore said, giving Nash a rare smile before turning and walking away, his footsteps heavy on the tarmac.

Nash watched him go, that strange feeling in his chest intensifying. This was the end. The last chapter of a book he never thought he’d finish.

He glanced down at the envelope, hesitating for a moment before tearing it open. Inside was the paperwork that officially discharged him from the United States Navy, his final set of orders. As his eyes scanned the words, it hit him—this was really it. No more missions. No more team. No more battles.

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