Page 73 of Coincidentally Kismet

Montgomery releases us to grab our equipment and any supplies needed, and to turn over our phones.Shit!I’m grabbing my stuff and reaching for my phone to dial Cam when Bri walks up.

“Bri? What are you doing here?”

“Hey! I was volunteering this morning at the spouses’ club and overheard that y’all were leaving. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I thought I’d feel better to see you all off.” She glances around, taking in who’s noticed her since she’s clearly not supposed to be here.

Reaching out, I pull her into a hug. I don’t know why, but I feel better knowing she came. She has seen us off on our other missions, so it just wouldn’t feel right without her being here today.

“Davenport, give me your phone. Bri, you’re not supposed to be here, but I’m going to turn in his phone and look the other way,” Montgomery says in his typical gruff voice, but there’s markedly soft lines around his eyes as though he is acknowledging how this must feel for her.

If it was anyone else, he’d be having a complete conniption over them being here. Either he still feels bad for her or he’s coming down with something. I’m relieved, regardless.

“Thanks, I’ll be quick,” she responds with a cautious smile.

“Hey, before you run off, I need a favor. I need your phone. I haven’t been able to say goodbye to Cam,” I plead.

She hands it over without question.

“Make it quick. I’m going to wish the others well and then you gotta go and I need to scoot before I get in trouble,” she whispers to me while looking around inconspicuously.

Thanking her, I dial Cam’s number as quickly as possible. It rings five times and then goes to voicemail. Waiting for the recording to come on, I’m about to leave a message when Bri comes back and says it’s time to go. Hitting end reluctantly, I hand the phone back to her and pull her in for one more hug.

“Bri, she’s going to think I left without saying goodbye. I need to know that you will tell her. Tell her I love her and I never want to live without her. Make her believe I would have done anything to see her or talk to her one more time.”

“William, do not worry about it for a second more. I will take care of it. She will be waiting when you get back. She loves you too. Now go and be careful. Remember, level head on a swivel, come home in one piece.” She squeezes my arm one last time, repeating the words Thatch and I used to say to each other. It’slike I can hear his voice when she does it, and I say it back a knot in my throat: “Level head on a swivel, come home in one piece.”

With a final nod, I sprint toward the hull, gear covering me like some sort of goddamn pack mule. Ideally, we would have this shit already on the ground, but that’s not a luxury this time.

If you haven’t been in a cargo hold of a plane before, there’s very little it could be compared to. It’s similar to your grandma’s basement, if the basement was filled with Humvees, a plethora of guns, and aid rations.

Settling into my jump seat next to Smith, I carefully uncap the first of several bottles of water I plan to drink. We have to strap in for takeoff and landing—not that the hammock seat seemingly made of old seat belts or its measly straps are securing anything.

I toss back a sleeping pill while taking a long pull from the bottle. Pills like this one are standard-issue when boarding a plane like this. Everyone gets a few.

“You good, man?” Smith asks.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I didn’t say goodbye to her,” I reply, dropping my head into my hands.

“Why? How? What the hell is wrong with you?” Scolding me is his favorite pastime.

“I had to get Ruiz’s ass and time slipped away. I tried calling from Bri’s phone, but she didn’t answer.”

“Duuuudddeee! You gonna be able to keep your head in the game?” The engines are roaring now, we have to shout just to hear each other.

“Yeah. I’m straight...Bri will handle it.” I try my hardest to infuse confidence into my shaky reply.

Smith doesn’t say anything else, just grabs my shoulder and squeezes. There isn’t anything to say. We have a job to do, and I have to believe that Bri will make it right for me. The churning in my gut indicates it’s not that simple, but mistakes on jobslike this cost lives. I refuse to lose another brother, or myself, to these assholes.

Takeoff is smooth-ish. Riding in style like we are leaves a lot to be desired. Once we hit altitude, everyone unbuckles and finds a place to sprawl out. Twelve hours on an uncomfortable swinging seat is a nonstarter. Looking around, scoping the perfect spot, I grab my pack and shuffle as steadily as I can to a wooden crate that’s about a foot tall and long enough for me to sprawl out on. It’s placed up against the tire of a Humvee, making it the perfect place to prop my head. There’snothinglike a hard rubber tire for a pillow.

Sleeping on the floor helps to lessen the frigid air that coats the plane like a wet blanket. It’s not without risk; falling off during turbulence is a real possibility, but I can’t find it in me to care right now.

Rolling out my sleep mat and bag, I get comfortable enough to feel the sleeping pill take effect. Nodding off, visions of Cam looking devastated dance in my head. There’s no room to toss and turn, but tell that to my brain and stomach as they riot against my will to catch some much-needed rest.

5:24 AM SUNDAY

Metal peppers the side of the plane, pinging off the wings and echoing throughout the hold like small bells ringing in your ears. Mixing with the whoosh of the engines, it’s an indescribable sound.

The knowledge of what the metal is heightens my awareness. The pounding of my heartbeat quickens, and adrenaline fills my veins. We must be getting close, not that there’s a windowto look out of and check. It’s normal to take on heat as you’re entering enemy territory, but it doesn’t make it any less intense.

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