Page 30 of Luck Be Mine
He stood and went into the bedroom. “This will only take a few minutes. Anything else you need to know?”
She followed him to the bedroom, sat on the bed, and asked him a few more household questions including the combination for the gun safe. She was going to need a household notebook for all this stuff.
He packed.
She watched, connecting with the times she’d done exactly the same thing to get ready for deployment. Tears rose in her throat, and she swore loudly in her head. No, no. Not crying.
He finished in silence and sat on the bed beside her. “That’s everything. I have to leave.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Cait?”
“I love you. Keep your focus out there.”
“I will. I love you, too.”
He didn’t move.
She bumped him with her good shoulder. “I’ve got a million things I want to say. But I’ll hold and say I’m behind you. I’ll be here when you get back. Go. The sooner you leave, the sooner we can start our million things conversation.”
His eyes flashed with an emotion she didn’t expect, and there was no time to ask him about it. He squeezed her good hand, leaned in to kiss her again. Hard. Fast. Sweet. Following her advice, he made a quick exit.
She sighed, remembering those times in Afghanistan when he left from her quarters with no words, disappearing like smoke in a stiff breeze. At least this time she heard the door slam.
Chapter Five
March 10, 2020
Eastern Syria Desert
0100 Zulu Time
A new moon graced the night sky. The darkness defined mission black. The MH-47 Chinook silently skimmed the barren desert intent on a low and fast flight from Al-Asad Airbase in Iraq to the drop zone in the desert badlands of Syria.
Hunt slipped into his standard focus for the two-hour flight and reviewed mission parameters looking for holes in their strategy. He found none. Insertion: night-time air drop. Their objective: a crumbling stone compound built into a ravine in eastern Syria near Deir ez-Zor. The area was littered with smuggling routes, terror cells, and mobile training camps. Intel: current, so actionable, but risky. Mission: intercept a high-value courier, confiscate his laptop with vital intelligence, and disrupt a localized insurgent network wreaking havoc in Iraq. If the laptop was gone, the mission would be a failure.
Hunt internally ran through his gear and his physical readiness. He’d inserted this way into Syria before, so the method was familiar. But this was his first mission since Cait’s injury three months ago, and he expected to struggle a bit even though he’d trained hard to reestablish his mission capabilities.
His emotions zoned to grayscale immediately on entering the helicopter, and, with a bit of relief, he bypassed all his personal uncertainties and dismissed the jarring differences as to be expected. It was a lie he could live with because this job he knew.
The outing only required four team members, so half were left at the airbase as backup. For this round, Hernandez, Tommy, and Baxter were along for the ride.
“LZ in 60 seconds, gentleman.” The pilot’s voice sounded sharply in his ear.
“Copy.” Hunt checked the other three men.
Tommy grinned. “We’re ready, LT.”
“In and grab and back out. Clear?”
Bax gave him a thumbs up. Hernandez’s face stayed blank. His usual.
Descent was subtle. The landing soft. The rotor wash churned grit that tumbled across the sand like beads from a broken necklace.
First out man, Baxter opened the door. Hunt dropped his NVGs over his eyes and followed. In seconds, they were moving away from the landing area.
“Clear,” Hunt spoke in his mic to the pilot.
