Chapter 30 #2
Bravo Team crouched low under the spinning blades of the Black Hawk, rotor wash pelting grit into open wounds. Beach leaned against the ramp, blood in his ear, eyes unfocused.
Lobo lay strapped down, Sabra working a breathing valve and Friend pumping fluids.
Sean stood at the edge of the ramp, eyes on the dark horizon. Not a word. Just war in his jaw. They were in it now. And this was just the start.
CHASE NEW ORLEANS RECOVERY SUITE – 0815 HOURS
Shannon blinked against the morning light. Her body was stiff, her head thick. But she knew the time had come even before Mack stepped in. She was going to stand and take her first steps in over a month.
He smiled gently, chart tucked under his arm. “You ready to earn your wings, Lieutenant?”
She didn’t smile back, just nodded. She wasn’t afraid of pain. She was afraid of breaking in front of him.
Dante appeared in the doorway a second later, fresh from his second catnap, clean-shaven, sweatshirt loose on his frame. His eyes met hers and stayed.
She didn’t need to ask him to stay. He already was.
Hale followed with Hunt, wheeling in a walker with padded grips. “This is going to suck,” Hunt warned gently. “But you’ve got us. And if we time this right, the meds will hit mid-transfer.”
Mack checked her IV line. “Pain scale?”
“Six,” she muttered.
“Good,” Hunt said. “Let’s keep it under eight.”
They adjusted the bed slowly, back lifting first. Her body protested immediately, twinges in her hip, her thigh, and deep in the pit of her pelvis. She swallowed down a groan.
“Take your time.” Hale kneeled beside the bed. “You control this.”
“I’m good.” But her hands gripped the sheets.
Mack offered her a strap. “You’ll use this to help pull forward.”
She nodded then breathed once. And tried.
Every inch upward was like sandpaper dragging over nerve endings. Sweat broke across her brow. Her lips parted.
“Shan,” Dante said softly. “Look at me. I’m right here.”
Her jaw clenched as she swung her legs over the side. The movement torched her hip. Her right foot found the ground. Her left trembled, and she nearly crumpled.
But Dante stepped in, one arm braced behind her back, the other under her arm. “Lean on me.”
She did. The walker came into reach. She clutched it, breathing hard, swaying.
Her teeth were gritted, but she didn’t cry. Not in front of Mack. Not in front of her dad. Not even in front of Sam. But Dante? She didn’t have to hide it.
Her knees buckled slightly. He didn’t let her fall.
“Just stand,” Hunt said. “Ten seconds. No step. Just feel the floor.”
Ten seconds passed.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
She slumped backward onto the bed before her legs could fold. But her feet had touched the floor. She had stood. And no one else had done it for her.
Dante helped her lie back. “You did it.”
She looked up at him. “It hurt.”
“I know.”
She paused. “But it’s not the same.”
He nodded. “It won’t ever be.”
She didn’t cry then either, but her fingers curled into his as they settled her back in bed. And when she closed her eyes, she didn’t feel powerless anymore. She felt like she’d won something small. And still had something worth fighting for.
PENTHOUSE LEVEL BALCONY – 2200 HOURS
Dante stood alone for a while, hands on the railing, hoodie sleeves pushed up to the elbows, eyes unfocused. He didn’t turn when he heard the door slide open, but he knew who it was.
Mike Johnson stepped out silently. He offered him a steaming mug.
Dante took it. “Thanks.”
“We got word from the Sahel. Bravo made contact.”
Dante’s head turned.
Mike’s face was carved in restraint. “First op, scouts ambushed. They took fire in open desert. Sand cover was weak. Two injured: Lobo and Beach.”
Dante’s grip on the railing tightened. “How bad?”
“Lobo’s critical. They’re keeping him alive for evac. Beach has a traumatic brain injury. He might be alright, maybe.” Mike sipped his coffee. “The rest held it together. Paulsen and Ganz pulled them through.”
Dante’s jaw worked silently.
Mike added, “This war’s already here. Krueger knew where to look. We just didn’t listen fast enough.”
Dante exhaled through his nose, then looked at the man beside him. “You wish I was there?”
Mike shook his head. “No. You’re where she needs you.” He leaned back slightly, his posture looser but his voice more pointed. “She asked for you after the surgery. Not me. Not her brother. You.”
Dante looked down at the steam rising from his mug.
Mike continued, “She’s never let anyone that close. Even when she was small, she kept her walls high. It used to scare me. But with you… she lets herself fall.”
When Dante answered, it was with no bravado, no armor. “I’d take her pain if I could.”
Mike nodded. “That’s how I know you’re not just here to keep her warm.”
Dante glanced sideways. “Was that your test?”
“No. That was my relief.” Mike cleared his throat. “We’ll get you briefed again soon. But not tonight.”
Dante met his gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Mike’s eyes didn’t waver. “Good,” he said. “Neither are we.”