“Now, get your shit together,” Forest said, “because I’ve got some news you’re going to hate.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
Shots
TIA
The vibrationsof the helicopter thumped through Tia’s ass, shaking her from the inside out and wreaking havoc with her nerves. The trip took longer than anticipated, and during the whole ordeal, Tech Sergeant Miles never once shut the fuck up. Over the drone of the blades chopping through the air, she learned he’d been the star quarterback in high school and in college, although she’d never heard of his no-name school. If she were to believe him, he’d been specially recruited into Harvard Medical School. His snort of disdain and the ten explanations why he hadn’t gone to medical school brought raised eyebrows from the rest of the team. Warren ignored him, and the docs sat on the opposite side, too far to hear—or so they pretended.
Why had Collins picked this man?
Sergeant Miles had taken a seat next to her, which meant she was the only one not spared his incessant monologue. Medical school had been turned down because he didn’t think it made financial sense. He’d wanted to travel the world. And that football fame? That had brought a recruiter to his doorstep. He also said he had been hand-selected for special ops training. Now, that was bullshit.Nobody was picked for this job. They were weeded out from hundreds of hopefuls.
Short sandy hair, a spray of freckles splattered across his face, he had a Barney Rubble build, short and stocky, but built like a brick house. All the men she worked with were in peak physical condition, which meant he didn’t get any points for that. His call to fame as a quarterback had her lifting a brow. He didn’t have the physique to play that position. Nodding where appropriate, she listened while he shouted his life story over the noise as the helicopter cut through the desert air.
Less than an hour later, they reached their insertion site. A group of Marines had been ambushed. Two of their men were down. Several more were wounded. Reinforcements were on the way, but they needed immediate evacuation for the injured. It wasn’t the first time her team had been inserted into a hot zone, but this was the first time she felt nervous about it.
In the silence left behind by the disappearing helicopter, Collins gathered them around. As the sun dipped below the horizon, he pulled out his maps and briefed them on the mission.
“We have a ten click hump over rough terrain.” Instead of glancing at her, something he habitually did to check on her readiness, his gaze zeroed in on Miles. “There’s nothing pretty about this route. We travel in silence.” Another penetrating glare at Miles. “I don’t want to hear a peep.”
“Yes, sir,” came a round of acknowledgments.
“They’re on a rooftop, and support is coming in. The cavalry should arrive before us.”
“And if they don’t?” Drummond asked.
“We slip in.” Collins glanced around to make certain everyone understood. “We do what we’ve been trained to do—stabilize and fix what we can.”
She didn’t like this mission. “Sir, if they’re pinned down, how are we supposed to slip in?”
Miles snorted. “I got you, babe,” he said.
It was a good thing she would only be doing this one mission with him. His insipid self-love inspired hatred. That wasn’t good. Not when she would have to trust her life to him.
“T doesn’t need your damn help,” Warren mumbled. “She’s been doing this longer than you.” He stood and tossed his pack on his shoulders and then lifted hers off the ground. “You ready, T?”
She shrugged on the heavy pack and settled it low on her hips. “Let’s kick ass,” she said, ignoring Miles.
Warren took off at a trot, and she followed him. The other men shouldered their packs and set off. Collins hadn’t lied about their path. Rocky and traveling up and down ravines, they used the landscape and the deepening shadows of dusk to hide their movements as best they could. The unit they were supporting had been ambushed just outside a small village. Their lead vehicle had taken a rocket, and they were sheltering in place, trading fire with a handful of insurgents. Likely, those insurgents were armed goat herders with a lucky rocket and poor aim. Nevertheless, they had two men clinging to life. Evac helicopters were on standby.
Warren raced into the darkness. Tia ran behind him, her breath pulsing in and out as her body pushed the limits of her endurance. Behind them, Miles took centerline of their group. His steps never faltered. Despite his stocky build, the man could run. He didn’t push her but kept pace precisely four strides behind. At least he knew the basics of how a team operated. Maybe he wasn’t that bad.
With his fist raised in the air, Warren gave the signal to halt. Tia crouched down. Her chest heaved with exertion. Between breaths, she sipped water. Miles followed suit while Collins, who had been holding up the rear, moved from the end of the line to Warren’s position. The two of them scrambled up to the top of the ravine.
“You doing okay?” Miles asked.
“I’m good,” she said. “You?”
“It’s always different on a mission, isn’t it?”
“Is it?”
He jerked his chin toward Collins and Warren and then lowered his voice. “On training missions, it’s hard as fuck but doable. You hear me?”
“Um, sure?” She didn’t understand what he was trying to say.
“It’s the adrenaline.”
