We’d all been so fucking excited for Adam. And then, out of the fucking blue, Foster showed up. Command brought in Foster to take Moses’s place instead of pushing Adam into thespot I and several other of our brothers had felt was Adam’s. As usual, there’d been zero fucking explanation, but that was the Navy for you.
“Bravo team in position to breach. How copy?”Finlay Ryan, Alpha Four, reported. Finlay, and Alex Madison had been two of the loudest protestors when Foster Holt got the top spot.
“Strong copy, Bravo Team,” Adam responded.
“Alpha Six has Southern Overwatch. How copy?”
“Strong copy, Six. TOC, this is Alpha Two. How copy?”
The radio crackled in my ear.
“Lima Charlie, Alpha Two. Strong copy all around. You are cleared hot. Repeat. You’re cleared hot,” Commander Mercer replied.
“You guys heard that. Breach on my mark.”Adam’s voice rang out through my headset again, and I felt a calm wash over me like it did before every door we kicked in.
I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer that we all came through this one alive, like always, and then I checked my weapon while waiting for Adam’s command.
“Three, two, one. Execute. Execute. Execute,” Adam commanded.
Foster kicked in the door.
“Crash out!” he called as he threw the crash grenade.
I rushed through the door, taking out two fighting-aged men reaching for the AKs sitting beside them.
Foster followed me through first deck before splitting off to do the same as I was on the other side of the building, searching for any potential intel or hiding spots.
“One, this is Three. This side of first deck is dry,” I radioed to the team.
“Copy Three. Four, this is One. What’ve ya got?” Foster asked as he met me in the center hall. He eyed me, shaking his head.
“This is Four. Second deck is a dry hole, Alpha One,” Alex replied.
Then, in the silence, a series of mic clicks filled my ear. The rest of the team tromped down the steps of the house and stopped in front of Foster and me. All our eyes went wide at the distress call. We stared at one another. Rushing out without knowing could get us all killed, as well as the brother in distress.
It was either Adam or Carson. Everyone else was standing in front of me. Foster and I glanced at one another.
“TOC, this is Alpha One. Did you register a distress call?”
Before Mercer or anyone else from the team could respond, another series of clicks, along with gunshots to the north, pierced the air.
ADAM!
My mind screamed. My feet were rooted to the floor until one of my brothers pushed my ass into action. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever been in trouble and alone, but something about this felt so fucking different. I didn’t know how or what exactly, but this time, a dark cloud of despair fell upon me. A dry hole that was supposed to be a motherlode, and now Adam firing and signaling distress.
More gunfire. A combination of AK and Sig rounds with M4 joining in. Motherfucker, he was out there on his fucking own, fighting for his life.
We hoofed our asses out of the building; I dropped my night vision over my eyes as we raced toward Adam’s location, slipping and sliding across the rocky, sandy terrain.
Foster called out over the radio as we ran. “TOC, this is one. Do you have eyes on Two?”
“Negative, one. Two is not in sight. We are attempting to locate him. He is not in position. What we do see is two vehicles via ISR that are speeding out of the vicinity. One going west and the other east,” Commander Mercer relayed.
I stopped, and the others did the same. I turned to them. The question burning a hole in my head was doing the same to them. Why hadn’t they had eyes on Adam to see what the fuck had gone down?
Dread filled me, rooting my feet in the sand as if it had turned to quicksand. My blood bubbled and fizzed frantically.
“Repeat your last, TOC?” I asked.
