Chapter 20 Daniel
DANIEL
One second we had eyes on the alley—on a SEAL leaning over a teammate on the ground, on a black spot growing under another SEAL next to them, on a fourth member of Echo standing over the guy bleeding out—and the next the drone signal degraded, and the screen went black.
“Signal lost,” the tech said.
No shit, Sherlock. Fucking idiot. People who point out the obvious need to be drawn and quartered. The man I loved, my best friend, and the team of SEALs I worked alongside were under fire—two of them on the ground, one of them bleeding out.
No clue who either figure could be.
And all for a target package not worth the cost, financial or human, we just paid.
“Castle this is Echo One.”
Thank fuck! Parker’s voice pierced the air.
“We crossed Jackpot. Echo Team RTB with package, one eagle critical, one eagle down hard.”
I would ring his fucking neck when he got back.
Turning to leave so I could stress in private, I ran smack into Commander Turner.
The man looked green around the gills. Xander’s life could hang in the balance because of this man.
Hell, he could fucking be dead. Because this asshat thought sending his SEAL team into an ambush that led to one man dead and another critically wounded.
“You did this!” I barked, poking a finger into the Commander’s chest. “I told you this mission would go sideways. And look.—one good man is dead, and another is hanging onto his life…”
“Son, you better…”
“I’m not your son. Don’t you ever insult my father again!” I yelled.
“Boy, you best back up and get your finger out of my chest.”
“Fuck you, Commander.”
I spun on my heel; my fists clenched. The techs and analysts gave me wide berth, glancing nervously between me and the Commander.
One eagle critical. One down hard.
Which one?
Parker was okay. That I knew.
Someone was critical. Someone was dead.
My mind ran through the roster. Every name, every face.
Alex. Jason. Chris. Dom. Marcus. Josh. Sammy. Their faces flashed before my eyes as if they were flashing up on the monitors. The worst-case scenario—Alex being dead—made me feel like the worst prick imaginable.
“What’s their ETA?” I asked, looking back at the useless piece of shit that was their commander.
He stood, legs splayed, arms crossed over his chest, his face devoid of any emotion. He shook his head so slightly I thought I imagined it. But then he did it again before turning and leaving the command center.
“Twenty minutes,” the intel petty officer responded.
“Do we know…”
She shook her head. “No, sir. We won’t know who until they’re on the ground. No names are to be used over the air.”
I nodded. I knew this.
So my option was to wait here and be a zoo exhibit for the command center or…
“Call me if there are any changes.”
“Yes, sir,” the intel petty officer said.
“Thanks, Petty Officer Rakes.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
I turned for the door, my hand gripped the knob, and the sheer amount of willpower it took not to jerk it off the fucking hinges nearly did me in.
Twenty minutes later, I stood on the edge of the airfield, waiting for…
fuck it sounded cheesy as hell…my fate to be decided.
How I fucking fell in love over the course of a couple of stolen moments with a closeted, Navy SEAL who hated relationships and love and who felt that needing someone made you weak and powerless, and wasn’t even old enough to buy alcohol legally beat the shit out of me.
But I had.
A relieved sob choked me. I thanked God I bucked up and told him how I felt about him before the team rolled out for this mission. The thought that he could be dead, that he could’ve left this world without knowing how much I loved him gutted me.
Rotor blades beat the air, getting louder the closer they got. It was too fucking dark to see anything until…the lights on the chopper broke through the darkness. My heart rate, blood pressure, and breathing all kicked into overdrive, setting my nerve endings on fire…
“Please God.”
“Agent Lennox?”
“Yeah,” I responded, not taking my eyes off the wicked big metal bird slowly lowering itself to the ground.”
“Agent Lennox, you need to come with us, sir.”
“I dunno know what you want, but it’ll have to wait,” I stepped onto the tarmac as the tires of the Blackhawk hit the asphalt.
Two hands wrapped themselves around my elbows, halting me in my steps.
“No sir. Under UCMJ Article 128, you’re being arrested for assaulting a superior officer…”
I watched Parker jump out of the chopper as the medical unit rushed forward. His gaze swept the area, landing on me. He turned and spoke to Marcus—so it wasn’t either of them—before he rushed toward me.
“Gentlemen, I swear to you, he’s not a terrorist. Just a know it all mouthy Boston Mick.”
“Fuck you, Parker. They mistakenly believe I’m in the military and are trying to arrest me for assaulting a superior officer.”
“Sir, we are aware you are with the Agency, but pursuant to 10 U.S.C. Section 802, during wartime, any person traveling or embedded with an armed forces unit is subject to the Uniformed Code of Military Justice, and as such you are being detained and held over for court martial.”
“What the fuck for?” Parker asked.
“Lieutenant, unless you would like to join Agent Lennox in the brig…”
This couldn’t be fucking happening. “I deserve to know what you’re charging with.”
“Article 128, for assaulting Commander Lawrence Turner, United States Navy, Naval Special Warfare Group 1, Team 3.”
“Now. Let’s go, sir, unless you’d prefer we forcibly remove you from this airfield.”
“I’ll go. I promise, but first, Lieutenant Holt…”
“Go. I’ll let Sandy know what’s happening.”
My chin wobbled. “Thank you,” I whispered as the MPs dragged me away.
The body bag…Alex was alive. He was on the stretcher. Not dead. Not in a body bag.