Page 21 of Lucky Charm
An explosion rocked the deep afternoon. Then another. Then another.
“Vehicles destroyed. Right on schedule,” K-Rock reported through his earpiece. “Another explosion, too. Maybe the village.”
“Copy. Good work.” Terse, short sentences sufficed. They were going to have to execute some of their more lethal ideas. They weren’t known for pretty, breathing results, and he couldn’t shield Doc from that. What the hell was she going to think when they started killing men, upfront and personal?
Hunt never questioned his skills or his ability to do the job. Not once had he allowed burnout to swallow him. Not once had he been in a position where his personal feelings threatened to overrule his ability to follow a directive. At least they weren’t sitting vulnerable in a helicopter while the Taliban fired at them. They also weren’t trapped in their vehicles waiting for the judgement of an RPG. Some would say the water was where the teams operated the best, but they qualified on land like all the rest of special operations. On land was one of his specialties and had been since he was a boy.
But today, amid his job confidence, sat an unusual fear tearing at his gut. Instincts and experience aside, he struggled with the reality of their current circumstances. His logical brainknewhis mission-success ratio was high, but he couldn’t swallow the granite boulder of terror that crammed his throat.
Her safety smashed against dangerous circumstances. Her warm, brilliance mattered.
Her.
He let the cold air settle in his lungs and reinforced his lethal face. He rapidly assigned the men to positions based on strategy and strengths.He wanted to pull her into his arms, to reassure, to explain and to protect her from the cold, from bullets. But it wasn’t the most expedient, and he knew it. Instead, he stayed silent, tightened his hold, and guided her behind him. In the U.S., this would be considered a challenging mountain hike, but here it was like climbing Everest without gear or guides.
The clusterfuck reality of dealing with terrorists was sometimes shit happened.
“Snowfall picking up, Alpha One,” Doogie’s voice came quietly over the radio.
“Noted,” he answered and pulled Doc closer to his side. She wasn’t arguing and was intensely concentrating on moving her feet, but she was shivering even with the exertion. He couldn’t stop to do anything about it except shift to partially shield her from the wind. He registered the softness of her body against his, compartmentalizing his response to keep his focus.
The temperature had dropped a good ten degrees on an already below freezing day. The wind wasn’t helping. A flash of that day in Montana when his father had purposely left him in the woods with a blizzard nearing washed over him. He’d learned a lot about survival during those three days. One – that he could rely on himself. Two – that he would never trust his father again. If he hadn’t already suffered through dozens of beatings where he’d been sure he was dead, he would have been shocked that his father was trying to kill him.That trial had been another day in the hell of his childhood. He’d been eight.
Swearing in his head, he shoved the memory aside. He did not think about those days anymore, not since he turned eighteen and left them to rot. He joined the Navy and stopped all contact with his family. He especially could not be ambushed by those memories today. Doc was depending on him, and he wasn’t going to let her down. The solid feel of her moving with him penetrated again, and this time he focused on that reality. One step. One step. One step.
“Alpha Five, what’s the word?” He whispered in his mic.
“Estimate revision. Closer to fifty. The dust on the road must have been something. They are spreading out but haven’t found our trail yet. They’re massing at our vehicles. Coming back to you.”
He wanted to stop. He wanted to give Doc a rest. Her breath was coming out in short burst. They were moving too fast and needed to take a beat. But they couldn’t.
He leaned and whispered in her ear. “We have to keep going. Can you do that?”
He hadn’t planned to look in her eyes because it didn’t matter whether she could keep up or not. She had to or he’d have to carry her. She weighed less than some packs he’d carried, but between the rocky incline, the swirling snowfall, and the slippery goat trail, he’d be better off not.
Her eyes were steady, determined, and trusting. “I can keep pace.”
“I can carry you if I have to.” He had to offer. She was his responsibility, his to protect.
“No, I’ll keep going as long as I can. I need a hat, though. I’m losing body heat.”
The hood of her jacket wasn’t cutting it, he could see that for himself now. He unfastened his jacket pocket and pulled out the extra scarf. He didn’t stop himself when he put it there. He’d followed his gut when he was prepping for the day. Stopping her, he tied it around her head himself and then refastened her hood, tying it tight.
“Thank you.” The utter faith in her voice made him take another second to reassure her.
“We’re going to keep moving until the weather won’t let us anymore. They found our vehicles, but they haven’t found our trail yet.”
“No helicopter support, I bet?”
Her question assured him that she was thinking on her feet, too.
“Nope. We lost Overwatch before we left. Nothing will move, not until the storm passes. I’ve reviewed this area, though, and when we’ll find a place to get protected. Trust me.”
He didn’t know why he added that, but it seemed important that she understood his commitment to her safety.
“I do, Hunt.” Her small hand squeezed his arm. “I’ll do the best I can.”
“Alpha One, Tommy heading in.” Doogie was now bringing up the rear. “Are we going to keep going or fight?”
