1
ONE YEAR AGO
Qatar
Tucker
The rhythmic thumping of helo blades vibrates around me, and I can see them moving overhead, but my ears are ringing so loud I can’t hear anything. Both side doors are open, and I can see the door gunner over my head firing at someone or something outside the chopper.
The smell of smoke, metal, and blood is strong, and I switch to breathing through my mouth.
The pain in my leg and up my side is nearly fucking unbearable, and every muscle in my body is so tense a bag full of quarters would bounce off me. Grinding my teeth through the pain, I can’t hear it, but the growl of pain in my chest is rough in my throat, and I can feel the veins in my neck and face trying to break through my skin. The medic kneeling on the floor next to me just cinched a tourniquet around my thigh, but I didn’t even feel it because whatever is wrong with my leg hurts too fucking bad.
I can’t hear what he’s saying, he’s talking into the comm in front of his mouth, but I think I saw his lips form the words ‘lose the leg’. Over my dead fucking body are they taking my leg off.I try to lift my arm to grab his collar to tell him as much, but I think my arm is broken because it won’t move from the hard-as-fuck stretcher they have me on.
Or maybe I’m on the floor of the chopper, I think I remember them carrying me in by my arms and legs. Next to me is my teammate, Mathews, covered in blood, dirt, and soot from the bomb. The fucking bomb.
Another flight medic is working on him, but he looks bad. He was standing in front of me when the explosion happened. One second, we were in our normal formation, and the next he was thrown back into me with debris flying around us.
One of my other teammates, Jeb, jumps onto the chopper, there is blood running down one side of his face, and sits on a bench next to one of the SEALs we were sent here to help, he looks like shit. Dirt and soot are all over his face. I can’t hear him, but he twirls his finger as he yells at someone behind my head, probably the pilot, since the bird lifts off the ground seconds after.
Rolling my head to center, I stare at the dark metal top of the helo. How did everything go so far off the rails?
Everything about this mission has been FUBAR since before we were even involved. Every step of the way, the other guys have known our position and our plan. That shit doesn’t happen.
It was supposed to be a simple exfil — in and out.
A pinch in my arm and soothing warmth moves over my body, driving away some of the pain. Either my body is going into shock and I’m not feeling as much, or what he just gave me is the good stuff. The medic hovers over my face, he’s saying something to me, but all I hear is ringing. The fucking ringing.
Chancing a look next to me, I roll my head to look at Mathews. His brown eyes are staring back at me, but there’s no life left in them, and I’m pissed they haven’t lowered his lids. At least lower his goddamn eyelids.
Closing my eyes, I try not to think of all the times in the past few years we spent having fun and working together side by side. The drugs they just pumped into me are working because the quiet darkness behind my eyes is like a fucking lullaby, and I let myself relax into its comfort.
The next time I open my eyes, it’s to the rhythmic beeping of hospital machines, and the smell of disinfectants invade my nose. For seconds, I’m confused and wondering who I’m visiting in the hospital.
Then, it all comes back.
The house in the middle of nowhere. Walking down a hallway. A bomb. The chopper.
My leg!
Every muscle in my body seizes in panic as I open my eyes and try to sit up. White-hot pain sears my entire right side, but I push through it to see my right thigh wrapped in the thickest gauze I’ve ever seen with a metal halo around it held together by thin rods that disappear under the gauze.
Falling back onto the bed, relief floods my body when I know that my leg is still attached to my goddamn body. Thank fuck.
After a few deep breaths, I take inventory of the rest of my body. My right arm is in a cast from my elbow to my wrist, and I’m pretty sure there is gauze around my head. At least I can hear the beeping of the machines next to the bed instead of the fucking ringing.
Mathews.
My eyes focus on the ceiling as I remember him and me standing outside the front door of the nondescript house doing rock-paper-scissors to decide who would be in front. We laughed as my palm covered his outstretched fist before we kicked the door in.
It was a simple game we played so many times in the past; who would pick up the tab at the bar, who gets the girl with thebigger tits, who gets to be designated driver… who goes in first. Fuck me.
I don’t even realize anyone else is in the room with me until I hear, “It’s about time you woke up.”
Next to the bed, by the window, is my commanding officer and team leader, Luke. Our eyes lock for a moment before I rasp, “What the fuck?”
My mouth is dry, and my tongue feels like a fucking dry wadded rag in my mouth. Luke stands up and grabs a cup of water from the table next to my bed. He holds the straw to my lips, and even though the water is tepid, it’s the sweetest water I’ve ever tasted.
