The Elite: The Complete Series of Boomer and Player (With Bonus) (29 page)

On the second day, I woke with the sunlight that filtered into my rocky hostel and after taking a leak, and refueling with an energy bar that I’d found in my pack, I ducked out of my cave to do a search and make sure that I was still undiscovered. I kept my 9mm cocked and ready, as I crept out into the daylight.

A huge explosion rocked me in my place as I rounded a corner of stone, and I whipped around, weapon at the ready, to see the smoke and fire in the distance. “What the fuck was that?” I whispered to myself. I slung my pack from my shoulders and squat down to find the pair of binoculars that were contained inside. I put them to my face and scanned the area around the explosion. It was impossible to see through the thick smoke and I had no way of knowing what had happened.

When the reverberations of the explosion cleared, one sound remained.

A plane was overhead.

The outline of the machine became clear as the smoke cleared and I realized with a shudder of horror that it was responsible for bombing the site below. It wasn’t an American plane, and it didn’t have any insignia that would mark it as being from an allied force.

No, that was the enemy.

I followed the descent of the plane, mentally calculating where it was trying to land. I wasn’t as familiar with the area as I would’ve been if I’d spent the past months on a base, and not on the air craft carrier. As it was, all the information I had was fed to me on an “as needed” basis. But, even with my somewhat limited familiarity, I found it hard to believe that there was an airport anywhere nearby. Which meant, whoever was flying the plane that had just dropped a bomb, was planning on landing in the middle of the desert.

I considered the cave I’d just vacated, torn between going back inside, and following to see where the plane would land, knowing it would lead me to an enemy stronghold.

It was a choice, but not a hard one.

I followed the plane in the sky as it circled and began to descend more rapidly. Wherever it was headed, it was close by. With careful, well placed steps, I climbed the rough mountain side, staying as close to the rock face as possible.

As I went around the next bend, I stopped dead in my tracks, my boots gripping into the mountain side.

Two men were standing at the base of the mountain. Three hundred feet away. I sucked in a breath and pressed against the rock, hoping my desert camouflage would protect me if they turned around. Their voices carried up to my position, but I had no way of knowing what they were saying. Even if I spoke their language, they were too far ahead to make out the exact words. I couldn’t risk getting close enough to try and puzzle anything out. In my previous three tours, I’d learned enough words to have a very basic understanding of the language of the region, but I doubted it would help enough to justify the risk in getting closer.

Beyond the place they occupied was a makeshift airstrip, and my suspicion was confirmed as the plane I’d spotted touched down. I watched as it slowed, spun, and taxied back. It was an early 70’s bomber. Old, and outdated—but still usable if properly maintained.

When the dust cleared, I looked for the two men, but they were gone.

I stopped to fish out my binoculars again and scanned the area from a crouching position.

“What the—” I mumbled, pulling the binoculars away, as though not trusting what they’d shown me.

There was a doorway cut into the side of the mountain. At first glance, it had looked similar to a cave like the one I’d slept in, but on closer inspection, it was obviously man made, cut into the stone and tunneled out. My heart rate spiked as I debated attempting to get closer.

Movement and more voices pulled my attention off of constructing a plan, and I put my binoculars back to my eyes and watched as a man got out of the plane. The pilot walked toward another man who had came around the side of the building. I zoomed in on his face, and realized I was looking straight into the face of Malik Anwar-Idris, the man Commander Grissom had warned us about in the briefing.

Holy shit!

He was the man behind the attacks.

He was the proud leader who took glee in claiming kills and unspeakable acts on Americans and their allies.

He was the reason I was there, stranded in the middle of the fucking desert, waiting on a rescue that I could only hope was coming for me soon.

Righteous anger set every hair on end, and my fist balled tightly as my other hand clenched the binoculars, pressing them hard against my face. I had to do something.

I hunkered down and spent the whole afternoon on that mountainside, scoping out the base, and watching the comings and goings of other soldiers. By the time I crept away, back into the cave I’d slept in the night before, I had a plan. Come hell or high water, I was getting out of the desert.

And if I was lucky, I’d be taking some of these bastards out before I left.

Chapter Fifteen

Holly

“I wasn’t sure what you ladies would like, so I got a little bit of everything.” Aaron came into the living room the next morning, where Rachel and I had slept on the pull out couch. After dinner and drinks the night before, Rachel and I had decided to get a hotel room for the night, but Aaron wouldn’t hear it. He insisted that we stay with him, even going so far as to offer us his own bed, however, we’d compromised and stayed on the couch instead, not wanting to kick our host out of his own bed.

I stirred at the sound of Aaron’s voice, and rolled to my side, only to face plant against a wall of solid, fur covered muscle. “Hunter,” I whined, pushing his tail out of my face as he began to wag it around.

Aaron laughed. “Quite a wake up.”

“Tell me about it.” I pushed up and pulled the covers with me. I was fully covered by the pajama top I’d packed, but still felt exposed without a bra in front of Jack’s best friend. “Is that from Carly’s?”

My mouth salivated as Aaron nodded, a knowing smile crossing his lips. “I remembered Boomer saying you were a fan.”

“God, Aaron, that’s so sweet.” I turned to look over the lump that made up Hunter’s body, to wake Rachel, but found the other side of the bed empty. “Where’s Rach?”

“Oh, she’s here, she’s out back, hosing Princess down.”

I cocked my head. “Huh?”

Aaron laughed. “We took Princess down to the beach this morning, on the way to Carly’s, and threw the ball a little. Well, Rachel throws like a girl, and the tennis ball flew right into the ocean. Princess, being the water-dog retriever that she is, went after it, got soaking wet, and then rolled in the sand. Needless to say…she’s getting a little bath.”

As if on cue, Princess—sopping wet—came running into the room and Rachel jogged after her, holding a beach towel like a matador’s cape. “No! No! Princess!”

Aaron roared with laughter as Princess stopped in the middle of the room and shook her wet coat, showering everyone and everything with remnants from her bath.

Hunter was the only one who didn’t mind.

“I’m so sorry, Aaron! She just—” Rachel gestured like a cannonball firing.

Aaron smiled up at her and shook his head. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. Here’s your coffee,” he said, pulling a coffee cup from the drink holder he’d set on the coffee table that he’d pushed up against the wall when he’d made the sofa bed for us the night before.

“Thank you,” Rachel said, taking the cup from him. She ducked her chin and I grinned at the red tinge in her cheeks. I imagined that when Aaron had suggested going for an early morning beach walk, she’d envisioned it going much smoother.

I stretched forward and grabbed the box of pastries that were next to the coffee cups. Only then did Hunter jump up from the bed. “Lazy bones…” I sighed.

I selected a lemon scone, breathing in the mix of fresh bakery aroma before shutting the box again and sitting back against my pillow. Rachel selected a muffin and sat next to Aaron on the love seat. She pulled her tan legs up under her, and I caught Aaron run his eyes up her toned legs as she leaned back. “Mmmmm,” she moaned, her mouth full of her first bite. “I’m seriously moving here.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes.

“No, I’m serious! Do they have a dental office?”

Aaron laughed and took a drink of his own coffee.

“Thanks for getting all this, Aaron,” I interjected.

“No problem.”

As much as I was enjoying the lightness of the morning, the more time ticked by—the more the question in the pit of my stomach grew, quickly becoming unbearable. “Any more news?”

He shook his head. “Not so far.”

I studied the lemon glaze on my scone and nodded. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I decided to go with the saying, “no news is good news” and forced myself to relax and enjoy the morning.

After a little while, Aaron got up from his place on the love seat, and announced that he had to get over to the museum to open for the day, but he promised to call as soon as he heard something and let us know we were welcome to stay at the house as long as we needed.

Rachel and I both thanked him as he left and I waited until the front door closed, before shooting Rachel a knowing glance. “All right, what’s going on?”

“What?” She asked, her eyes wide and innocent, but her mouth quirked in a not-so-innocent smile.

“With you two. He told me you went for a beach walk this morning.”

She shrugged but couldn’t get the smile off her face. “Nothing
happened
, we just went for a walk.”

“Uh-huh,” I replied, eying her. “And the moving talk?”

She laughed. “That was purely the food orgasm talking. Seriously, what does that woman put in these muffins?”

I had to laugh. Carly was a baking master, and I was sure that the four pounds I’d gained on my vacation had been a thanks to my daily visits to her cafe. I wanted to go see her and say hello, but I knew it would only bring up what was going on with Jack, and I really didn’t want to talk to her about it. It was hard enough talking about it with Rachel, or Aaron.

“Do you think you’ll move here?” Rachel asked, her tone suddenly serious.

I looked over at her, startled by her question. “What do you mean?”

“Well, maybe not here, but wherever it is that Jack is from? North of here, right?”

I fumbled for a reply. It wasn’t something I’d thought about. Sure, before the crash, I’d thought about how Jack and I were going to survive long distance, but I’d promptly shut down any thoughts that dug too deep into the logistics, and I certainly hadn’t let myself think about uprooting my entire life to move to his base.

“I don’t think so…”

“Why not?”

“Well, for starters, right now I don’t even know if he’s coming home…” I paused, letting the harsh statement sink in. “I’m in an odd limbo since getting the news from Aaron’s friend last night. I mean—it’s clear Jack was alive—or at least, he hadn’t died in the plane crash. He was conscious when he bailed out. He had to have been. And then what? Did they find him?”

“Aaron says they will,” Rachel replied, matter-of-fact.

“That’s what I’m afraid of! You’ve seen what those bad guys do to war prisoners!”

“I’m talking about the SEALs. They’ll find him.”

I shifted my gaze back to her. “What else did Aaron say?”

“Well, Holls, we talked this morning. It’s actually pretty sad…he’s more torn up about this than he admits.”

“What did he say?”

“Well…” she twisted in her seat, as though checking to make sure we were still alone, even though the house had been silent since Aaron left. “…he was saying how he should have been up there with him when it happened. He used to be Jack’s wingman. He said that if it had been him up there, none of this would have even happened. I think he blames himself.”

My stomach churned. I was scared out of my mind for Jack and that brought a host of emotions that were almost too much to bear. I couldn’t imagine adding feelings of guilt and responsibility to that pile, no matter how off base they might be.

“He didn’t say much other than that, but I could see he was pretty torn up about it.”

I nodded, my heart still breaking for Aaron. “Wow, he’s such a strong, devil-may-care kind of guy. I never even thought about him. I’m so selfish. Damn.”

Rachel took a sip of her coffee. “He’ll be all right. I mean, he has this museum and he was telling me how he wants to expand on it. Something about a tribute to his dad. I guess he and Boomer were like brothers, until he got out—”

“I know! God, Rachel, don’t you think I know all this?”

“Holly! Relax! I was just telling you what he told me. Chill!”

I knew I was losing it. I’d never yelled at Rachel like that. I took a deep breath and got up off the sofa bed and straightened up the sheets, folding the bed into itself and placing the cushions back where they belonged. I didn’t want to fight with Rachel, but she had no idea how I felt inside. She huffed and walked out to the patio and I stood by the couch and called out, “I’m sorry, Rachel.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t even acknowledge I’d said anything. “I’m sorry!” I yelled out loud enough for her to hear me. She turned and gave me a small smile, but she didn’t move to come in.

To fill the quiet tension, I flicked on the TV and scanned through the satellite channels to find CNN. I gasped to find Jack’s Naval head shot staring back at me.

“Rachel!”

“…Lieutenant Commander Jack McGuire has been identified as the pilot of the F-18 Naval fighter jet that was shot down in the Sinjar Mountain Range this past Saturday. A team on the ground has determined that McGuire did not survive the impact…”

The reporter went on, but a low, ringing sound filled my mind, and my lungs vacuumed in on themselves, leaving me sputtering for air.

“Holly!” Rachel lunged through the open patio door and grabbed me before I hit the ground. I’d lost all control of my movements and was careening towards the ground. “Holly! Stay with me!”

I tried to nod, but the reporter’s words were echoing inside my head, drowning out all other thoughts.

McGuire did not survive the impact.

Did.