SEALs Honor (11 page)

Delaney
hugged the woman. "Thanks. I appreciate your patience and the shoulder to
cry on."

"Anytime.
Just stay out of my workspace."

Delaney
frowned.

Lindsay
smiled. "In other words, don't get injured or sick. I love seeing you, but
not for those reasons." She stepped through the door, calling back over
her shoulder, "See you later."

Left
alone, Delaney dressed in her flight suit and boots and headed for her
helicopter to talk with the maintenance crew. She wanted to do a complete check
on the systems and assess any damage incurred when the bullets had been flying
the night before. Arriving at night, she hadn't gotten a good look at the
craft. She hoped the work would take her mind off her personal problems long
enough to calm down. She'd need to get some sleep. The missions she flew were
invariably at night and she'd need to be at her sharpest. Military matters
trumped matters of the heart any day.

Or
so she told herself.

Tuck
returned to his tent, steaming hotter than the desert sun at midday.

Reaper
was doing sit-ups, his feet hooked beneath the legs of his cot. "Have a
good run?"

"Hell
no." He bit out. Reaper had left a wadded T-shirt on the floor between the
two cots. "Can't you pick up after yourself?"

Reaper
crunched a few more sit-ups and stopped. He rose, retrieved the shirt, and
stuffed it into his dirty laundry bag hanging from a tent pole. "What bug
crawled up your ass?"

"Who
said I had a bug up my ass?" Tuck ached for a fight. He needed to put his
fist through something. And right at that moment, Reaper was the closest to him
and the source of most of his anger. All he needed was an excuse and he'd land
a fist in his roommate's face.

"Well,
if you're not mad about something, you're mad at someone. Let me guess. Is it
the commander? Did he ask you to clean the head?"

"I'm
not mad at the commander."

"Then
who are you mad at? I'm not into twenty questions right now. I have to get to
the mess tent before O'Connell. I want to leave a candy bar for the cook to
give her as a special treat."

"That's
it." He rounded on Reaper, his fists clenched. "That's the reason I'm
so jacked up."

"Because
of a candy bar?" Reaper stared at him. "I have another if you want
it."

"No,
I don't want your goddamn candy bar. I want you to leave Delaney alone."

Reaper's
brows dipped toward the bridge of his nose. "O'Connell? Why? Did the
commander find out I was courting her?"

"No.
The commander doesn't know anything. But I do, and I want you to stop seeing
Delaney."

"Why?"

God,
could he do this? Tuck shoved a hand through his hair and turned away. "Just
because I asked you to."

"Sorry,
Tuck. That answer isn't good enough."

Tuck
struggled for one that made more sense when his own thoughts weren't clear to
himself. "You're not the right man for her."

"I'm
not?" Reaper grabbed his arm and jerked him around. "Are you saying
I'm not good enough for her? Just because I didn't grow up with a silver spoon
in my mouth doesn't make me inferior. I'm a good SEAL, I make a decent living,
and I care about her more than I've cared about anyone else in my life."

"That's
not enough."

"Why?"
Reaper crossed his arms. "Give me one good reason why."

"Because..."
Heat built in Tuck's neck, rising up into his cheeks. He felt like his head
might explode. "Just because, damn it! You're not right for her."

"And
what made you qualified to be the judge?"

"You've
never been serious about a woman before. You flirt with every female you come
into contact with."

"I'm
done with flirting. O'Connell is the only one for me."

"How
do you know? Another woman could come along and off you'd go, panting after
her. Where would that leave Delaney?"

"I'm
not going after another woman. I only want her."

"What
if she doesn't want you?" Tuck gritted his teeth, ready to tell Reaper the
truth. But something made him stop and hold his tongue. She'd pretty much ended
it with him.

"I
told you. I'm out to convince her. Either you're with me on it, or..."
With a shoulder block, Reaper shoved Tuck. "Stay the fuck out of my way."

Delaney
had actually managed to catch a few hours of sleep during the hottest part of
the day. The heat helped to drain her of energy, and she'd lain down on top of
her sleeping bag, wearing nothing but her shorts and T-shirt.

She
was jerked out of a sweaty dream of making love with Tuck when an unfamiliar
voice called from outside her tent.

"Captain
O'Connell."

"Just
a minute." She sat up and pushed her hair off her damp forehead, then got
to her feet and staggered to the door.

A
private first class stood at attention outside. "Ma'am, your presence is
required in the ops tent."

"Thank
you, PFC Olinger. I'll be there in five minutes."

The
PFC saluted, executed a sharp right-face, and marched toward the ops tent.

The
sun was well on its way toward the horizon, although the heat of the day still lingered.
At least, the wind had died down and the sand had settled. Flying nights was
easier than battling the buffeting winds and sandstorms of the daylight hours.

Delaney
poured water on a washcloth and performed a spit bath, wiping away the sweat of
the day before pulling on her flight suit and zipping it up the middle. Boots
came next, and she checked her flight bag before stepping through the door.

Lindsay
almost bumped into her. "Shoot. I was hoping for an update before you
headed out."

"Nothing
to update. I gotta go."

"The
hot SEAL didn't come by and declare his undying love?"

"Seriously?"
Delaney laughed, the sound lacking any humor. "Not gonna happen."

"You'd
be surprised. If the other SEAL keeps up his courtship, his actions might make
SEAL number one realize he can't live without you."

"I
doubt it. In the meantime, I have to go." Delaney hurried toward the ops
tent, anxious to hear the briefing on their next mission, hoping it wouldn't
include the team of SEALs from the night before.

As
she stepped into the operations tent, her hopes were dashed. The same SEAL team
she'd transported the night before was there, Tuck and Cory watching her every
move as she entered and took a seat. The room was crowded with another SEAL
team, her helicopter crew and a second one, as well as the team of operations
planners including the Afghan informant who'd been instrumental in the
interrogation of the Taliban member they'd extracted the night before.

Lieutenant
Colonel Cooley, the Army Special Forces ops planner, and Navy Commander Backus
stood at the front of the tent near the computer screen depicting the tactical
map of the area of operation.

Through
an interpreter, the Afghan operative told them of a Taliban stronghold in a
village in the mountains. An important meeting would take place that night to
discuss an attack on NATO forces.

When
the Afghan finished, he was excused from the room. Once he was gone, Lt Colonel
Cooley and Commander Backus took turns briefing the plan of attack.

The
SEAL team was to get in, take out the Taliban leadership, and get out as
quickly as possible. The village was said to be heavily guarded by the Taliban
so they'd have to come in under the cover of darkness. Two helicopters would
transport the teams as close to the location as possible, drop them, and get
away until called to retrieve the men.

Delaney
sat forward on her seat, adrenaline already thrumming through her veins. The
flight would be dangerous, possibly more dangerous than the night before. There
weren't as many hills around the village to disguise their arrival and shield
them from anti-aircraft weapons.

"An
unmanned aerial vehicle will be deployed with the team. The weapons aboard the
UAV will be used to take out the main target. But you must get a definitive
target location. You know the drill, limit civilian casualties."

The
SEAL team was given specific coordinates and departed to gather their weapons
and gear, and do any last-minute planning amongst themselves. They'd have the
toughest mission. Going door-to-door in a village was as dangerous as an
operation comes. They never knew when the enemy would pop out of a building or
a sniper would pick them off from above.

Cory
and Tuck were the last SEALs out the door, both glancing back over their
shoulders.

Delaney
tried not to notice, refusing to look directly at them, though they were
perfectly visible in her peripheral vision.

Lt.
Colonel Cooley handed an electronic kneeboard and memory card to Captain Kuntz
and the same items to Delaney. "Just remember, if the enemy is in range...so
are you." He winked. "You two good to go?"

"Yes,
sir!" Kuntz responded.

"I
got this, sir," she replied, feeling more confident by the minute.

Fear
wasn't a factor of the mission. If she let in fear, she'd put the rest of the
team and crew in danger. Pilots of the 160th had to act, not think. They had to
be ready to rush into dangerous situations without hesitation. They'd trained
these kinds of missions over and over while back at Little Creek with the
SEALs. She could fly this type of mission practically blindfolded. The only
variance was live enemy fire. Minor detail.

"Let's
do this." Delaney said.

By
the time she stepped out of the tent, the sun had dropped below the horizon and
the gray haze of dusk cloaked the desert. One by one the stars came out,
twinkling in the sky above. Delaney loved flying at night. At times, she felt
like she was a spaceship pilot, surrounded by the vastness of the universe.

Her
father had instilled in her a love of the heavens and the curiosity that made
her want to explore. She'd spent one childhood summer at Space Camp in Alabama.
With the space program winding down, she'd joined the Army and trained to fly
helicopters. Not as high as space, but equally thrilling.

For
a few moments, she stared up at the stars, wishing her father could see her
now. Maybe he could. Heaven was only a heartbeat away. Delaney hefted her
flight bag and headed for the helicopters to perform her preflight check. Her
crew stood beside the craft, ready for her inspection. She went over each member's
Air Warrior equipment, including the vest with body armor and armor plate, CSEL
combat survival radio, NVGs, and knife. She and her copilot had been issued M9
pistols and ammo. In the cockpit, the crew stashed water and snacks.

Once
she'd completed her crew inspection, her copilot checked over her personal
equipment, then they began the aircraft preflight checklist. By the time she'd
finished the exterior of the craft, climbed into the pilot seat, and strapped
on the safety harness, the SEALs showed up, loaded for bear and appearing so
dangerous, they could scare the locals into submission before they even lifted
a weapon.

Decked
out in the battle uniforms, PTAC and helmets, they all looked alike in the
darkening sky.

Good.
At least then she wouldn't know who she had on board. Each man equally
important as the next. So what if Tuck got on the other aircraft? At least then
she wouldn't be distracted by his presence.

The
SEALs split into two details and climbed aboard the waiting aircraft.

Delaney
started the blades spinning.

A
hand on her shoulder was followed by, "Alpha Team, five souls aboard."

"Roger,"
she responded, her heart leaping into her throat. She could almost feel the
heat of Tuck's hand through the survival vest. Warmth and calm settled over her.
Despite her resolve to remain unaffected by which team was aboard her aircraft,
she was glad it was Tuck's.

At
exactly the designated hour, Delaney lifted off the ground and swung north.

Following
the route specified on her kneeboard and in the flight computer, Delaney kept a
vigilant eye on the terrain below, employing her NVGs to pick out any heat
signatures along the way.

By
the time they reached the drop zone, all the stars shone bright in the sky. At
least the moon wasn't adding to the brilliance of the night. Too much light and
Al-Qaida manning anti-aircraft guns would be able to pick them off all too
easily.

The
two helicopters flew nap of the earth, hugging the terrain to avoid early
detection. When they reached the drop zone, Delaney brought the Black Hawk to a
halt, hovering twenty feet above the dry desert just outside the village.

Two
by two, the men fast-roped to the ground, loaded with weapons and NVGs.

When
her door gunner's voice came through her headset, "Drop complete,"
Delaney took off, heading toward the designated safe area where she'd await the
call from the men on the ground. A wait that would be the longest thirty
minutes of her life.