Page 55 of D-Day

“Hoo-yah to that,” Blitz said. “But, damn, he’s so freaking cool.”

He was directed to an exam room, and he went inside, the guys following. A nurse just looked at them and opened her mouth, but Blitz beat her to the punch.

“We’re not leaving without our teammate, ma’am.”

“Just stay out of the way, then,” she murmured with a soft laugh.

They removed his wet, bloodied clothes and set a flimsy paper napkin over his dick. Everything else was exposed. The nurse, her face impassive, examined, bandaged, butterflied, and stitched up what needed to be handled. “Shockingly, the bruising is minimal. You have some tough, thick muscles.” Her only indication that she was affected at all by him was in that one little breathless hitch in her voice. His teammates were up to their old antics behind the nurse’s back. Gator fanned himself, Blitz pretended to swoon, Professor put his hand inside his shirt and pressed out the fabric, pantomiming his beating heart. Bear was the only one who didn’t do a thing, except smile at his ridiculous teammates. It took all his willpower not to laugh. About halfway through the process, Joker entered the room.

He swore he could hear a pin drop because the room was so quiet. From the look on his face, it was time to face the music.

“Give us the room,” he said.

Gator bared his teeth and swung his head back and forth. Yeah, it was going to be ass-chewing.

Joker looked over his shoulder, and the guys moved a little faster, giving him hang-in-there looks, and filed out solemnly.

His LT’s features were pulled taut, his shoulders squared. And with a pang of regret, D-Day noticed how haggard Joker looked: dark circles under his eyes, that look of the world on hisshoulders, as if he’d just dropped all the glass balls he’d been juggling.

“Are you aware, Petty Officer Nolan, that I am in charge of your every move?” He tapped his lieutenant bars. The formal address was subtle, calling to D-Day’s sense of duty. “I tell you when to eat, when to sleep, when to train, and when to fucking get your ass back to base. I own you.” He stepped forward and the nurse looked at D-Day.

“Um, you’re good to go,” she said, hurriedly, looking at Joker’s face and blanching a little. She pressed a bottle of painkillers in his hand. “I think you’re going to need these.” Then she skedaddled out of the room.

17

Joker never tookhis stormy green eyes off him. “And your response to me isalways, yes, sir, right away, copy that, how fucking high do I jump?” he snarled. “Unless you have an opinion to offer or a solution, or an explanation, before any goddamned action takes place. I trust all your instincts. You’re one of the best fucking gunslingers I have had the privilege to command.”

D-Day completely understood that no response to Joker’s words were necessary, but his throat convulsed at those words, stunned by them as they touched an aching place inside him that he thought would never be filled.

Joker was venting because he had been scared shitless, and SEALs never liked to admit that they were anything but competent, in control, and stoic. There was no doubt in his mind that he cared a whole hell of a lot about the three of them, and there was a hard, tight, sharp shot of guilty pain to his gut that he’d almost gotten Zorro and Buck killed. How would he have explained that to Helen? Even now, he had no idea if the two of them were going to survive. Buck looked bad off, so still. He was as close as his brother, even closer because of D-Day’s ties with his family, and he felt the pain, the fear, and the loss if something were to happen to him. Helen’s grief…it would destroy him.

And Zorro. He’d meant what he’d said about Martinez. He was the best of men, not to mention every one of them had a special bond with their medic, regardless of his snarky humor, and his fearlessness. D-Day was humbled, contrite, and wrecked.

But he knew in his heart that given a second chance, he would make the same damn decision. Buck and Zorro had supported him. Helen needed them. The mission was too dire to pull out, and they had beaten the odds and gotten the win.

The horrors of war have a way of changing something inside of their warfighters, the kind of things that words simply couldn’t explain, and those who never experienced it would never be able to truly grasp the pain. Emotions shredded them from the inside, trying to find their way out at the expense of their sanity. He would rather die than let down his team, his LT. The thought of what Buck and Zorro had suffered was killing him.

D-Day saw the pain and intensity in his commander’s eyes. He was right to chew him out. He was the very sharp point of the spear, the man who led them into every battle, every mission. He’d gone through hell trying to fill their previous commander’s one-of-a-kind leadership, and he had proven himself worthy of their trust, respect, and admiration. As an officer, it was him who suffered each loss of each of his operators, and three of them had been in the field, outside his authority, knowledge, and expertise.

Trying to rub the exhaustion and moisture from his eyes, D-Day took a deep breath against the ache in his chest. He’d never wanted to let this man down, but there just wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Helen. There it was in stark black and white. Shewas his touchstone, an obsession, a beautiful pain in his ass, but that was the stark, God’s-honest truth.

Exhaling wearily, Joker rested his hand on his hip and stared at D-Day. He absorbed that look, one that had him struggling with the tightness in his throat, the burning in his eyes. Then it came, like a bullet flying out of the darkness straight at his most vulnerable place. “Were your comms compromised, or did you disobey a direct order?”

After all he felt, all the respect that was Joker’s due, there was no way he was going to lie to him. He deserved D-Day’s honesty, and he had never tried to escape the consequences of his actions. He’d proved that in high school, and every step he’d taken as a special operator. He wasn’t going to change that now.

“I disobeyed a direct order, sir.”

Joker’s brows rose, the satisfaction in his eyes at D-Day’s stark admission, and again, the man shook his foundations. He looked…proud. What the fuck? Another testament to his belief in one of his guys.

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” Joker shook his head. “I don’t think so, sailor. You were trained to be self-reliant, to assess situations and calculate outcomes. You were in the field, in the thick of it, and I’m afraid your heart was compromised. I deserve to hear your thinking and your rationalization of the situation that led you to making that crucial decision.”

Joker hadn’t earned his lieutenant bars without hearing a lot of carefully worded bullshit. So, D-Day took a hard breath and gave him the honest truth. “You’re right. My heart is compromised. I could no more leave Helen Buckard in the hands of those warlords than I could fly. She was definitely my major concern. I’m in love with her, and I guess that’s no surprise.”

“But—”

“The underlying mission was to retrieve those triggers. I knew I could get into the compound as Graham Butler, and I was going to fight to my last breath to make sure the NPA didn’t get their hands on them. Helen might have been a priority, but when have we ever backed down from saving people, worthy people like Greg and Helen? She risked her life, a civilian, to help us to get them back and save the Philippines. Frankly, if I had obeyed your order, those triggers would have landed in a terrorist’s hands, and there would have been no mercy for any of us if that had happened. She saved my life. She saved Zorro and Buck, and she saved millions of people through grit, courage, and determination to see it all through. She could have run, like I told her to, but she didn’t. I will accept any punishment you see fit to mete out, sir. I can’t apologize for going against your order. I simply can’t, but I do regret any harm, sleepless nights, and worry you suffered over our welfare. I know that burden must be heavy.”

“I appreciate those words, and I have made a decision regarding the consequences for your actions.”

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