Chapter Four

Chapter

Four

Eighteen months

ago

“I’m telling you, Sam,

there has to be an easier way!”

Sam laughed breathlessly at the words

from his friend Greg, who lay on the ground next to him, struggling

to draw enough oxygen into his lungs.

“I agree,” Sam groaned,

pushing himself to a sitting position, “but if you can find a way

to complete our CFTs without actually running so much we cough up a

lung let me know.”

As a Marine, Sam and the rest of his

team had to undergo Combat Fitness Training tests on a regular

basis. Sam had missed the last joint session with Bravo team due to

a medical upskilling course he’d been sent on, so he was flying

solo for this one.

Greg groaned as he pressed up to a

sitting position, and the two of them looked around at the other

either men who were all suffering the same pain. “We’re medics. We

have to know how to save lives and make sure we stay alive, but I’m

not sure how all these obstacles and maneuvering under fire drills

is going to help us do that.”

Sam laughed and opened his mouth to

speak, but a loud explosion had the words dying in his mouth, as

the ground shook beneath him.

“We’re under attack!” a

voice shouted, and then all hell broke loose.

Sam leaped up and ran for

his quarters, dodging men from all armed forces running for the

same thing. The ground shook again as an RPG exploded thirty feet

from him, taking out one of the equipment stores. Gunfire, the

steady tat-tat-tat of automatic gunfire and the distinctive boom of larger

caliber weapons filled the air. He slammed into his quarters,

vaguely aware that there were other men suiting up in the barrack

at the same time, and ran straight to his locker. He pulled on his

flak jacket, grabbed his rifle, all the ammo he had, and pulled his

medical kit onto his back. Grabbing his helmet, he ran for the back

entrance of the barracks, intent on getting to the command post on

the far side of the base.

He’d just stepped out of the building

when it exploded behind him, throwing him into the air, and

slamming him back to the ground as debris from the explosion fell

around him. Winded, his ears ringing, Sam stayed still waiting for

his equilibrium to return. As he was starting to hear more than

just the sound of his own breathing, a man pulled him up from the

ground. A little shocked that someone was able to manhandle him in

full kit seemingly so easily, Sam wavered slightly on his

feet.

“You okay, Marine?” the

man shouted, his voice only slightly muted, which Sam knew meant

that his hearing would soon be returning to normal. The man was

tall, built like a man who spent a lot of time lifting weights

should be and had the most startling blue eyes Sam had ever

seen.

“Yes, sir.” With a quick

glance at the man’s shoulders, he knew he was addressing an army

Captain. “There were men in the barracks, though. We

should—”

Sam stopped talking when the Captain

shook his head. “No one survived that blast. It was a direct hit.

Come on, we are pulling back to the bunkers in the center of the

base.”

Heart heavy at the loss of life, Sam

nodded and ran to follow the man as he made his way through the

smoke toward the center of the base. There was a series of bunkers

built at the center that was used by officers to coordinate

movements and men. They were almost to the structures when the man

Sam was following stopped suddenly and cursed.

Sam looked at the tall man and saw

three men lying bleeding on the ground fifteen feet ahead of them,

and from the looks of things, they had each taken a round or two.

Two of them were moving, trying to drag themselves out of the line

of fire, but the third wasn’t moving at all. Watching carefully,

Sam saw the man’s chest rise and fall, so he knew he was alive at

least.

Sam cast his eyes around and mentally

drew up the map of the base and the surrounding areas. “They have a

sniper. He has to be on top of the building at the entrance to that

small bombed out township half a click from the base.”

The Captain turned to look at him with

a frown. “Christ, then he’s just picking us off as we cross this

way. The fucking bunkers are in that direction, and everyone will

be heading that way.”

The report of a .50 caliber rifle rang

out almost at the same time they heard a man cry out in pain just

to the left of their position.

“Go, stop anyone else

looking to cross this section of the base. Stop as many as you

can.” Sam moved in order to make it to the sentry tower in the

north-west corner of the base.

“What are you gonna do?”

the Captain asked.

“I’m gonna take out that

sniper, and make sure our guys can get to where they need to go.

The damn armory is on the other side of this kill spot.” It

wouldn’t be the easiest shot he’d ever taken, but he’d make

it.

Respect and admiration flickered

across the man’s expressive blue eyes. “A sniper and a medic huh?

That’s one hell of a combination.”

Sam grinned back at the man. “I’m a

member of Sniper Team Bravo.” The Captain’s brow rose, and Sam knew

he recognized the name. “The whole damn team is one hell of a

combination.” And with that Sam had taken off. Ten minutes later,

he had taken out the sniper and his spotter with two precise rounds

taken in quick succession.

Sam would spend the next few hours

taking care of any wounded he came across and helping to protect

the base. As night fell, he made his way back to the armory in

search of more ammo. It was here that he ran into the army Captain

again. He was standing near the door to the armory, loading another

magazine of ammo into his sidearm. He was covered in blood and

seemed to be bleeding from a wound to his upper right

shoulder.

“Sooner or later, you are

going to have to get that looked at,” a man Sam had failed to

notice said. He was standing just off to the Captain’s side, weapon

out, his eyes scanning the area continuously.

“I will, just not now,”

the Captain growled in a tone Sam had heard Dev use on more than

one occasion, and it was usually when he was hurting or pissed off.

Or, as Sam suspected was the case in this instance,

both.

“Well, don’t blame me if

you bleed out,” the other man muttered, and Sam grinned. Whoever

these men were, they had a camaraderie that Sam shared with his

Bravo teammates, and it was one born out of mutual respect and

trust, and having fought side by side.

“Why don’t you let me take

a look at that?” Sam said as he stepped out of the shadows. He

lifted his hands when the other man’s weapon swung on him and he

stood stock still until the weapon was dropped.

“Hey, Sniper!” the Captain

said with a grin. “That was one hell of a shot you took

earlier.”

“Thanks,” Sam said as he

stepped closer, pulling his kit from his back. “Looks like you took

one, too, Captain.” The man made a scoffing sound, while his friend

seemed to sigh in frustration.

“Yeah, he did,” the other

man said, and when he moved closer Sam’s heart sped up at how hot

he was. “The bullet’s out, but we didn’t have any bandages to put

on and the fool won’t sit still long enough for me to apply

pressure.”

“Hey, I am standing right

here,” the Captain groused. “You two are talking about me like I’m

not standing right in front of you.”

“It’s all good.” Sam

laughed as he unzipped the back and pulled out what he needed.

“I’ll slap a dressing on it that has a hemostatic agent embedded in

it. It will sting like a bitch, but it will stop the

bleeding.”

“Hell, I’ll take the pain

just to stop his damn complaining,” the Captain said with a flick

of his head in the other man’s direction.

“And if the bleeding

stops, then I’ll stop complaining,” the other man said with a look

of genuine affection in his eyes when he looked at the Captain, and

Sam started to get the feeling there was more to the relationship

between the two than just camaraderie. “Win–win!”

Sam worked quickly, cleaning the wound

and applying the bandage, but the Captain didn’t even flinch.

“There you go, sir. I think that will hold until you can get to the

infirmary and have it checked out properly.”

“Thanks.” He rolled his

shoulder as if testing the movement then thrust out his hand.

“Captain Nick Jones, and this is Senior EOD Technician Aiden

George.”

“Corporal Sam Wilson,” Sam

replied, before shaking both men’s hands. He refused to acknowledge

the small ripple of awareness that moved through him at doing

so.

“Nice to meet you,” Aiden

said with a warm smile. “Although, personally I would have

preferred to meet you on a less stressful occasion.”

Sam grinned and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, but that wouldn’t be Afghanistan, right?”

The three of them laughed, but a dog’s

sharp bark from the armory brought them to silence. Aiden

immediately drew his weapon and moved to place his back against the

concrete wall of the building behind them, before dropping to one

knee, his weapon out in front of him. Sam and Nick both drew their

weapons and moved to cover both flanks, the two of them moving

silently into cover.

Aiden then slapped a hand to his

thigh, and a dark blur shot out of the armory and moved to take

position between his legs. Sam wasn’t surprised to see it was a

dog. Aiden was a member of the elite Explosive Ordnance Division

team, and they worked with highly skilled dogs that were trained to

scent explosive devices.

“Aiden,” Nick said

quietly, and Sam waited, his eyes continually scanning the area to

the right of them.

“Three, maybe four,

heading to the southwest bunker.” Aiden’s voice was so low Sam had

to struggle to hear what he said. When Sam moved to look in the

direction Aiden was, he couldn’t see a damn thing.

Nick cursed. “That’s where we’ve put

the visiting dignitaries. Fuck! That means this attack is not

random. If they know we have some senior military officials onsite,

they might be looking to nab them, hoping for leverage.”

Sam had no clue what Nick was talking

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