Chapter 6
Delaney’s hands were steady on the controls as she’d fired on the enemy. She couldn’t think about the burning ruins of the other helicopter. The SEALs’ lives depended on her keeping a cool head. One thing at a time. Kill the enemy, then get the men back to safety.
"Take that, you sons of a bitches," she muttered, the aircraft shuddering with the force of the machine gunfire and rockets launching.
"We got it from here," Mac, her senior gunner said, after she’d unloaded the last of the ammunition into the Taliban.
Without hesitating, Delaney turned the craft toward the village.
A group of men rose from the field and waved at her. She landed and tried to count but couldn’t see from her side of the cockpit. "How many?"
"Four on their feet. They’re carrying one."
Her throat constricted and she held onto the stick so tightly her knuckles turned white. "The other team?"
"Coming now from the village. I count four and they’re helping another between them."
"All on board," Mac said.
Delaney wanted to take off before they encountered any more enemy fire.
"Wait," Mac said, before she could power up for takeoff. "They’re going back to check for survivors from the other helicopter."
The chances of anyone surviving an RPG direct hit were slim to none.
With her aircraft on the ground, she was a target and everyone inside was in danger. She counted the seconds until the team returned carrying a body.
As soon as Mac gave the go-ahead, she was up in the air and headed south. When they’d climbed high enough and out of range of the village, she asked, "What do we have?" What she’d wanted to ask was who was injured.
"One with a bullet in his leg. Another with a penetrating trauma, possible amputation."
Her fingers tightened on the controls. "Who is it?" she asked, praying it wasn’t Tuck.
"Don’t know. They all look the same." The gunner shouted, "Who is it?"
A moment later, he said, "Reaper."
Relief washed over her, followed immediately by guilt. "Will he make it?"
A hesitation before the answer came. "He looks bad. Real bad."
Delaney flew the helicopter as fast as it would go. She radioed ahead that they were coming in with severe combat injuries.
When she set down at Camp Leatherneck, medical staff converged on the aircraft. Delaney dropped down out of the cockpit and ran to the gurney where they loaded Cory. His uniform was shredded, his right arm swathed in bandages, shorter than his left arm.
Delaney gulped, fighting back ready tears.
Tuck stood on the other side of the gurney, far enough away the medics and corpsmen could do their jobs.
Cory’s eyes opened and he stared up at her. "O’Connell?" He reached out with his good hand.
Delaney grasped his hand. "Yeah, Cory, I’m here."
"You never answered." He coughed, blood dribbling from the side of his mouth. "You gonna marry...me?" His eyes closed and Delaney thought he’d passed out. But then they opened and he looked at her, hopeful.
"Sure, Cory. I’ll marry you. Just hurry up and get better," she said, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Cory closed his eyes, a smile pulling at his bruised and bloody lips. "Tuck?"
"I’m here," Tuck said, his voice raspy as gravel.
"Take care of her."
"I will. Until you’re back on your feet. Because, you will be back on your feet."
"That an order?" Cory asked, his voice fading.
"You bet."
"Aye, aye." Cory’s body went limp and the medics wheeled him into a waiting ambulance.
"I’m going with him." Delaney started after the medics.
Mac stopped her. "Ma’am, he’ll be in surgery before you can get to the hospital. Likely, he’ll be in surgery for a few hours. You might as well get through debriefing before you head that way."
Delaney stopped, torn between duty and her heart. Cory was a dear friend and he was about to face one of the most traumatic events of his life. Losing a limb. He needed all the love and support he could get.
The ambulances drove away with Cory and the other SEAL who’d taken a bullet to his thigh. Mac left her standing on the tarmac. With the gurney gone with Cory and the others clearing the area, nothing stood between Delaney and Tuck. Nothing but a promise that changed everything.
She’d agreed to marry a man who might not make it through the night. And if he did, he had a long road ahead of him coming to grips with the loss of a limb.
Tuck loosened the strap beneath his chin and removed his helmet. His uniform was peppered with tears and blood. A large smear stained his chest and shoulder. He stared down at it and tried to brush it away.
"Yours?" Delaney asked through a tight throat.
He shook his head. "No, Reaper’s." Then he looked up and stared across at her, the anguish in his eyes more than Delaney could bear.
She went and wrapped her arms around him. Her tears fell faster, soaking into the dried blood on his tattered uniform.
"It should have been me," he said, his voice harsh. He didn’t raise his arms to wrap around her.
"You can’t second guess what happened." Delaney swallowed hard on the lump in her throat. "It won’t change the outcome."
"Reaper was one of the best." His body stayed stiff, rock hard and unrelenting.
"And he still is." Delaney leaned back, gripping Tuck’s arms and shaking him. "He’s not gone yet."
"You saw him." He glared at her, his lips peeling back in a snarl. "How can anyone live through that?"
With the image of Cory’s ravaged arm seared into her mind forever, Delaney couldn’t let it rule her life and thoughts. She straightened, pushing back her shoulders. Cory was her friend as well as Tuck’s. He was too young to die. "We have lots of beer and pizza ahead of us. I can’t drink and eat it all on my own." She laughed, the sound choked off by an escaping sob. "He’ll make it."
Tuck looked to the sky and sighed. "God, I hope so."
"And when he does, he’ll need all the support we can give him."
His gaze returned to her. "You promised to marry him."
"He needed to hear that." She chewed on her lower lip. "I couldn’t say no."
"You do realize, you can’t take back that promise."
She nodded. "I know." Cory’s injuries were so severe, any emotional setback could kill him. For better or worse, she’d promised to marry Cory. And a promise was a promise. Even if she didn’t love him that way, maybe she could learn to.
A medic stepped up to Tuck and pointed at his leg. "Sir, you’re bleeding."
Delaney stared down at Tuck’s pant leg, for the first time noticing the blood stain running from mid-calf to his ankle. "Damn, Tuck. You’ve been injured."
He shrugged. "Just a flesh wound."
"If you’ll come with me, sir, I’ll check it out." The medic hooked Tuck’s arm. "You might need to see a surgeon."
Tuck shook off the hand, standing tall. "I’m fine."
"If it’s all the same to you, sir, I’m just doing my job." The medic wasn’t taking no for an answer.
"Go with the medic," Delaney urged. "The Navy needs you."
He paused, his gaze capturing hers. "And you don’t?" he asked softly.
Her lips twisted in a wry grin. "I seem to recall the situation was the other way around."
Tuck nodded. "Doesn’t matter anymore. Reaper needs you more."
Though she didn’t want to, Delaney agreed. Still, it would have been great if Tuck owned up to loving her. Then again, an admission like that would only make their lives harder when she married Cory, knowing Tuck had changed his mind and wanted a long-term relationship with her. No, she was better off this way. There never was anything permanent between her and Tuck, which left her open to marrying a man she loved like a brother. If he lived to their wedding day.
"Captain O’Connell." Delaney’s CO, Lt. Colonel Cooley, appeared beside her and gripped her arm. "Glad to see you’re okay."
She stared up at him, fighting the tears. Members of the 160th Night Stalkers were the elite fighting force. They didn’t cry.
Her commander shook his head and pulled her into a hug. "It’s okay. Every pilot is allowed to express their grief. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t."
She let a few tears trickle down her cheeks, then pushed back from the lieutenant colonel, wiping at the tears. "I had breakfast with Captain Kuntz this morning. He’s got a baby on the way. His daughter starts kindergarten this year." She shook her head and swiped at more tears. "Sergeant Ryerson was one class short of his online degree, and Pickard was supposed to be best man in his sister’s wedding next year."
"They’ll be missed." The CO’s jaw tightened and he stood for a few moments, gathering himself before he went on. "A retrieval team is on its way to recover them and bring them home."
More tears welled in Delaney’s eyes as she pictured the funerals, the flag-draped coffins, and the wives and children of those lost. "Sir, my fiancé was the man severely injured in the explosion. I request permission to accompany him back to the States." She bit down on her bottom lip to keep it from shaking before adding, "If he lives."
"I’ll see what I can do." He tipped his head toward the hospital. "Now, go. When he regains consciousness, he’ll want to see a familiar face."
"Thank you, sir." Delaney hurried toward the hospital, pushing aside thoughts of the men who’d died, her hastily made decision to accept Cory’s proposal, and the look on Tuck’s face of resigned acceptance. Everything about loving a SEAL reminded her of why she shouldn’t. Men who volunteered for such dangerous missions set themselves up for death or dismemberment. They were fearless adrenaline junkies. Women who married them waited in constant fear of getting that call, or of the chaplain stopping by with word of their soldier or SEAL’s demise. She’d been through it once, when Max died on a mission.
If Cory lost his arm, he would never be deployed as a SEAL again. Most likely, he’d be medically retired or given a desk job. He’d be safe from going back in the line of fire. He would be the ideal husband for Delaney. She could love him without worrying about him getting killed. The idea didn’t make her feel any better. Her heart couldn’t switch gears so quickly, not when she still had feelings for Tuck, feelings that were more potent than the love of a brother.
Damn it. All the time she’d been holding back and telling Tuck they couldn’t be together, she’d done exactly what she’d sworn she never would do. She’d fallen in love with a SEAL.
Again. Her realization didn’t matter. What happened now wasn’t about her or Tuck, or why they couldn’t be together. Her focus was all about getting Cory through the night. Beyond that, she didn’t dare think or plan.
Tuck refused to see the medic, heading straight for Commander Backus. The operation had gone south and he suspected the reason was more than coincidence. They’d been set up. The trip wire and the writing on the wall said it all. If Reaper hadn’t stumbled on it when he did, both teams might have been caught in the explosion. As it was, Reaper was the main casualty in the operation. The damage could have been much worse. Not that Reaper’s life and health were any less important, but his sacrifice had saved the lives of the other men on the team. Cory was, unwittingly, a hero.
"You look like shit." Commander Backus greeted him with a handshake. "Glad you all made it back alive. I understand the op wasn’t good."
"We need to check out the Afghani informant. I suspect he was part of this whole scam."
The commander’s jaw tightened. "Can’t."
"Can’t? Why?"
"He’s missing."
"So it was a set up."
"The man we captured last night hung himself right after the teams left in the helicopter."
"F*ck. Why didn’t we get recalled?"
"We didn’t discover our dead captive until after the shit hit the fan. By then, it was too late." Backus’s glance raked over Tuck. "I want you to report to the hospital."
"I’m fine."
"That’s an order."
"Sir, all I need is a shower. Reaper—"
"Is going to pull through."
Tuck clenched his jaw. "Sir, his arm."
"I heard." The commander’s lips pressed together. "The docs will do their best to save it."
Tuck shook his head, knowing there wasn’t anything anyone could do to save what was left of Reaper’s arm. "Sir, that should have been me."
"What?" Backus stepped back, drawing himself up to his full height of six feet four inches, an inch taller than Tuck and every bit as intimidating a man as any SEAL could wish to be. "Did you tell him to trip over that wire?"
"No, sir, but—"
"We didn’t sign on to be SEALs to wallow in self-pity or self-blame. Reaper won’t, I guarantee it. And I don’t expect you to, either."
Tuck opened his mouth to argue his point, but one look at his commander’s face and he snapped his jaw shut. Backus was right. They didn’t have room for second-guessing. What was done was done. No amount of regret would bring back Reaper’s arm.
"Reaper is a SEAL. Whatever he has to deal with, he’ll make it. We only train the best of the best." Backus led Tuck to the door and opened it. "I’ll walk with you."
"Sir, I can make it on my own."
"And I don’t give a rat’s ass if you can or not. I’m checking on Reaper." Backus jerked his head. "Now, move."
Commander Backus knew exactly what to say to snap Tuck out of his funk. He walked tall, despite the pain in his ankle, just now flaring up as the adrenaline subsided. And the stinging bite he’d felt in the field outside that village probably was a bullet lodged in his leg. No matter the pain, he refused to show any sign of it. His injuries were minor. He’d keep all his limbs and live to fight another day.
The way he saw it, Reaper’s days as a Navy SEAL were over. Tuck couldn’t imagine what his life would be like if he couldn’t be a SEAL. They were the family he’d never had. His brothers. He was closer to these men than he was to his father and mother, or his half-brothers from his mother’s second and third marriages.
SEAL Team 10 was everything to him. Until Delaney had come along, he couldn’t picture himself with anyone he loved more.
The woman in his thoughts waited outside the hospital tent, pacing.
Backus and Tuck stopped in front of her.
"Captain O’Connell." The navy commander held out a hand and Delaney took it. "I’m sorry to hear about the loss of Captain Kuntz, Lieutenant Metzger, Sergeants Ketchum and DeSpain. The recovery team is on its way back with their remains."
"Thank you, Sir." She let go of his hand and rubbed her arms as if she were cold. "At least, the families will have some closure."
"Any news on Reaper?" Tuck asked, looking for his answer in her expression.
Delaney glanced at the commander, refusing to meet Tucks’ gaze. "A nurse came out a few minutes ago. She expects them to be with him for at least an hour. As soon as they stabilize him, they’re sending him back to Landstuhl."
"Some of the best surgeons in the world are stationed there," Commander Backus said. "He’ll be in good hands."
Nodding, Delaney continued. "They’ve got a critical care air transport team and a C-17 on standby, waiting for him in Bagram."
The news hit Tuck with a complex sense of relief and sadness. He and Reaper had been through BUD/s training together. From the moment they’d graduated training, they’d been assigned to Team 10 and hadn’t been separated since. The sense of loss hit him hard, weakening his knees. If he’d been alone, he might have given in and dropped. With his commander and Delaney standing close by, he couldn’t. He was a SEAL. SEALs didn’t show weakness.
He sent a silent prayer to the heavens. God, help Reaper and while you’re at it, help me be strong for him. With Delaney at his side, the man would be okay.
Tuck didn’t want to think whether or not he’d be okay. He couldn’t picture Delaney with Reaper. In the back of the Black Hawk helicopter on the way to their mission, he’d convinced himself he couldn’t live without her.
Now he’d have to.