Chapter 16
16
Dagger swore. “I swear if you move again…” Twister was one of the worst patients, but that’s what happened with medics and anyone in the medical profession. They got antsy when wounded.
Sadie was still sitting against the boxes, blood still on her hands from Twister’s graze. The bullet had struck his upper arm—messy, bled a lot, but was mostly superficial. Tex was on the phone, Bondo close by, and Easy, Shark, Brawler, and Flash had cleared the dock, found the abandoned sniper’s rifle, and were protecting the perimeter. Dagger wondered if the attack was Seven Demands in action.
“You have to be the slowest stitcher on the planet.” Twister was tense as hell, but most of that was because he was focused on Sadie and how she was faring.
“I want to get it right.” He lifted his head and met Twister’s agitated eyes. “Do you want a janky scar?”
“I want you to finish up,” Twister growled, his gaze going back to Sadie.
“She’s fine,” Dagger said. “I checked her over myself. She’s just shaken up.”
“Getting shot at will do that to someone not used to it.”
Bondo went over to her, knelt down, and used a water bottle to clean the blood off. She gave him a grateful look, then closed her eyes, clenching her fists. Before Bondo rose, he squeezed her shoulder and murmured something to her.
SEALs were a tight bunch, a closed community, but when someone risked their life to save one of their brothers…well, that was an instant in. “She pulled you out of the line of fire. That was pretty fucking brave.”
“Yeah,” Twister said, closing his eyes and taking a breath.
Dagger was completely aware of what was going through Twister’s mind. “Nothing is going to happen to her on our watch,” Dagger said. Twister opened his eyes and nodded. “So, I thought maybe things had cooled off with you sleeping in your bunk. The guys are wondering?—”
Twister’s brows rose. “The guys?”
“Yeah,” Dagger said, not wanting to relive that feeling when he saw his buddy go down.
“You’re all a bunch of nosy biddies at heart,” Twister growled. “But we’re a team, and teammates share everything. So, I’m falling for her, and I brought up being together after this op, but she’s going through some shit of her own…stuff I pointed out…you know…when she tried to clean my gear.”
“Fuck. Seriously? A relationship . That’s huge …fantastic.”
“If she works it out, we can move forward.”
“At least she’s receptive to what you had to say,” Dagger said bitterly, feeling the frustration and anger rise in him at Quinn’s continued rejection of everything he suggested. “So, did she kick you out or are you giving her some space?”
“Giving her some space.” He looked Dagger in the eye. “I’ve learned some things about myself that aren’t exactly great…like how I’ve given everything in my life to service. You were right, Dagger. I have the right to live a life of my own choosing. I want her to be part of that, but if she chooses not to be, I’m not going back to that man who wasn’t courageous enough to take a chance with his heart.”
“Look at you growing and expanding.” Twister gave him a wry look and an irritable sigh. “I know that’s not easy, but she’d be a fool to turn you down.” Twister was an amazing operator and one of the most capable medics Dagger had ever met. Not only was he glad he was on their team, but he was blessed to have such a man as his friend and gratified to know that he was opening up his life to new possibilities, even if they kicked him in the ass…and heart. “I know you’re all about overcoming challenges, and the best part about that is the way you challenge others.”
“I feel most alive when I do what others think is impossible.” He glanced at Sadie again, and his heart was in his eyes. Dagger knew all about that yearning and that pain. “I will always go to the edge and see if I can beat the odds.”
“Hoo-yah,” Dagger said, softly offering his fist for Twister to bump. Dagger leaned back. “You’re free to go,” he said. Twister immediately went to Sadie, pulled her to her feet, and clasped her to him. She wound her arms around his neck with a fierce look on her face. Dagger’s gut clenched. Oh, yeah, there was something almost tangible between them. He didn’t think that Twister would ever choose a woman who would disappoint him, and Sadie was much too smart and much too involved with his teammates to turn him down. Were those wedding bells he heard in the distance?
What he wouldn’t give to have Quinn lean on him, find comfort in his touch and his presence, give her heart time to heal instead of being crushed by blame, resentment, and bitterness. But no matter how much he wanted her to change, he couldn’t make her decide to come out of the shell she’d built around her. He was quite aware that a romantic relationship between them wasn’t going to happen, and that hurt like hell, but pining away for her for his whole life wasn’t any way to live, no matter how much his heart was compromised. It was clear she despised him, but he was going to support her any way he could no matter how much it hurt him personally.
True to a SEAL’s nature, he wasn’t going to give up on her. Ever. He would always let her know that he was a phone call away, one word from her, and he would be there for whatever she needed, no matter the time of night or day. He was only limited by his job, but even deployed, he’d find a way to support them.
It kicked him hard in the gut to remember that those boys were part of his DNA, his flesh and blood. They had been a gift to Quinn and Brian, but now they were his legacy, and he would make sure that they knew who Brian had been, never forget what their father had stood for, and that he had given his life in service to others. Commitment, courage, and sacrifice defined Brian. As grief poured through him, tightening his chest and making his eyes sting for the loss of such a man in their lives and in his, he turned away. It was time to do something about Seven Demands. They weren’t going to get away with wounding one of his brothers, murdering a diver, and blowing up an airport of people, especially the women and children.
“Are you okay?” They asked at the same time, and Sadie could barely breathe remembering how awful it was to see him go down, then the horrible redness of his blood on her hands. All she could think was that he was here to protect her, and if he had died…she could barely breathe again…she would literally and figuratively have his blood on her hands.
“If something had happened to you…” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“I know, babe.”
“We’re heading out,” Tex ordered. “As soon as we get back to the compound, meet in the briefing room.”
They sat together in the van, and she ached to hold him, but there was no time. As they unloaded in front of the barracks, Tex gave Twister a hard, relieved look.
“You’ve got five minutes with her, then get your ass into the briefing.”
“Copy that, sir,” Twister said, and she was grateful for the kind of CO he was lucky to have leading them.
He took her arm and guided her toward one of the computer rooms. Opening the door, he made sure it was empty before pulling her inside. “I’ve only got five minutes,” he said.
“That was so scary, but I understand it’s part of who you are. I respect what you do so much. That drove it home to me.”
He shuddered as if she’d touched a raw nerve, but he yielded to her and acknowledged the respect she paid to his profession, his gaze dark and tormented.
“To be completely honest, I would take any bullet for you. I’d rather die than see any harm come to you.” His face contorting in an agony of emotion, he closed his eyes tightly and pulled her against him, holding on to her as if she were the one solid thing in his life.
Closing her own eyes against scalding tears, Sadie cupped the back of his head as he claimed another piece of her heart. He was raw and hurting, and he hadn’t withdrawn behind a wall or his professional warrior attitude. He let her see his pain and fear.
She held him until the pressure eased in her chest, then turned her face against his. Her face damp with tears, she pressed a soft kiss against his cheek, more tears wedged in her throat. This fight against her feelings was giving up the ghost as she opened up her own floodgates and let everything pour out. She was hooked on this man for better or worse, but she fought against saying anything in the heat of the moment. She didn’t want to be frantic when she made her final decision. She owed herself and him that time, the time he’d given her to be sure about everything.
Swallowing hard, she took a deep, quavering breath, her touch infinitely gentle as she combed her fingers through his hair again and again.
Twister’s chest expanded raggedly, and he smoothed his hand over the arms around his neck. “Fuck, Sadie,” he said, his voice choked with the rawest kind of emotion, “I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you.”
Her chest so full she couldn’t answer, Sadie pressed another kiss against his face, wanting to draw him inside her tenderness and caring. His need fed her soul, and the fact that he was giving her everything meant the world to him. Twister let his breath go on a shaky rush, locking his arms around her in a rough hug as he pressed his face against the curve of her neck. Sensing the frenzy of feeling simmering in him, Sadie tightened her arms around him.
“I’ve got to go, babe,” he said. “I don’t want to abuse Tex’s generosity.”
She nodded. “Of course not.”
He turned to leave, and she grabbed his shoulder. “When you get back, come to my room no matter what time it is.” With a catch in her voice, she whispered, “Stay safe…all of you.”
The door closed behind him, but she stayed in the empty room to gather her composure. She hadn’t been sure if they were going out on a mission, but the look in Tex’s eyes told her that there was going to be hell to pay, and it wasn’t going to be his team.
When she finally was able to exit the room, Neil was standing there, his hair still damp. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice strained, his eyes darting over her.
She nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Twister was the one who was injured.”
He didn’t comment, just looked relieved.
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt as well,” Sadie said, but again he didn’t seem to have any comment about the chaos that had ensued after the shots were fired.
He came up to her. “No one will hurt you while I’m around,” he said. “You can be sure of that.”
He was standing a little too close and she stepped back. “Thank you, but the SEALs are the ones who are tasked with our safety. Don’t worry about it too much. They will make sure the terrorists are stopped.”
“The terrorists?” he said, his eyes going a little unfocused and his breathing increasing a bit.
“Yes, Seven Demands. They’re the ones who shot at us, Neil.”
His eyes came back into focus, and she chalked it up to the unsettling feeling of being in the line of fire. “Of course. Right.” He chuckled nervously. The hair on the back of her neck lifted at the sound, and she went to go around him, but he blocked her path. “Burton was always a loose cannon. He should never have attacked you like that.”
She swallowed, remembering the trajectory of the thrown rock and the tight hold he had on her neck.
“He won’t bother you anymore.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’m assuming NCIS will track him down,” he said in a rush. “But, if you need anyone to talk to, I’m here, Sadie—anytime.”
“Thanks, Neil,” she said, brushing past him, eager to get away for a hot shower and something other than Neil’s offer to console her to keep her mind occupied until Twister returned.
Twister entered the room, his arm stinging and his resolve firm. It was time to take out Seven Demands. It was clear the threat was real, and the US wasn’t going to tolerate their troops taking fire, and the Balinese were completely on board.
When Twister took his seat, he found a folded piece of fabric and a folder in front of him. Tex nodded at him, then faced the front of the room. “What do you have for us, Emma?”
Their CIA liaison, her face stark, said, “We’ve got the location of Seven Demands, and we’ve put together a target package for their leader, Basuki. He was a business major at Udayana University, and he got angered by the disrespect of the temples from tourists. An Australian climbing a temple set him off. This led to his fanatical hatred for anyone traveling to Bali. It’s why he targeted the airport. Basuki is his only name as the Javanese don’t have surnames. We turned one of his followers into an asset after the airport bombing.”
She walked over to a monitor and clicked it on. A man appeared on the screen. “This is Elang, the asset. He has agreed to mark the building where Basuki is hiding.” She clicked another slide showing a young, dark-haired Balinese man dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt called a saput polos , and a sarong. He was addressing a large crowd of men and women. She clicked another slide and a small bridge in front of a gate came up. “This is Mekah Sari , an old, abandoned temple, and in Sanskrit, mekah is derived from a word that means rooted, and sari means essence. So rooted essence.” She clicked off the screen. “The layout and target building are in your packets, as well as a sarong.” She took a breath. “We’ve had to work with one of the pedanda, Ida Bagus Ngurah, a high priest, distinguished by their scholarly expertise, and is revered for being a keeper of sacred knowledge and cultural heritage. He has already attempted to get Basuki to surrender, but he refused. We then received permission to assault the temple and Pedanda Ngurah has requested that you all wear the sarong over your camo and remove your boots before you enter the inner courtyard. He wishes to say a prayer before you take off.”
This had to be the most unconventional assault ever…remove their boots? Twister touched the soft, dark sarong fabric and hoped Google had good instructions on how to tie the garment.
“The Balinese military won’t desecrate sacred ground with violence, so Basuki’s takedown is all on you. We would very much like Basuki to be captured without a shot fired if at all possible. As the pedanda has pointed out, enough blood has been spilled.”
“I’m not too thrilled about it either,” Brawler said. “Places of worship have always been off-limits for us.”
“Agreed,” Flash said. “Holy places radiate some kind of aura. I felt that every time we had to go into a mosque in Afghanistan. I don’t know. This reverent feeling hits me. Makes me damn uncomfortable to tote my M4 into those places.”
“This will be an in-and-out, no-shots-fired mission,” Emma said. “But I get why this is uncomfortable. The pedanda understands this is necessary, and he will provide a blessing after the mission to both cleanse the inner courtyard of your presence and Basuki’s sacrilege.”
“We get comfortable with the uncomfortable,” Bondo growled. “If we can get Basuki without bloodshed, we will.” Emma nodded.
“The intel is solid. The asset was horrified by the airport bombing, something he didn’t sign up for. He wanted people to be more respectful of their temples, culture, and way of life. I totally understand why they’re upset, but resorting to that kind of violence never works.”
“Violence is never the answer,” Easy said. “We would love it if we didn’t have to do what we have to do, but we’re not going to back down from any of it, ma’am.”
The acknowledgment in her eyes was born of experience. She wasn’t a stranger to violence. She held up her hand as everyone started to rise. “By the way, after talking at length with Elang, he is adamant that they didn’t have anything to do with Petty Officer Mercer’s death. I’ve related that information to NCIS.” She took a hard breath. “Currently, they are searching for Petty Officer David Burton. He is AWOL, and still at large on the island. They want to talk to him regarding arguments between the two divers.”
“They think Burton killed Mercer?” Shark asked, frowning.
“Right now, he is a person of interest.”
“Fuck,” Dagger said. “There is something off with Burton.”
“Jock up and study the target package and learn to tie the sarong properly.”
“Are we really going to remove our boots, LT?” Twister asked.
“It’s dangerous to go barefoot, so we’re going to wear our swim booties inside our boots. We’ll remove them at the inner courtyard. It’s the best we can do to abide by their custom and stay safe. We leave as soon as it gets dark,” Tex ordered.
After Pedanda Ngurah’s blessing, a wizened old man with gray hair pulled into a topknot, and a long fuzzy beard, wrapped in a full sarong, and a ring on every finger except the thumbs, Twister approached him. “ Om Swastiastu . An offering for you.” Twister set the simple lotus leaf and sandstone in the man’s open palm with his right hand.
The priest smiled. “This is a powerful gift. I will cherish it. May you be blessed, warrior, in your life and your endeavors.” He tilted his head, and Twister felt a sensation like soft rain cascade over him. “There is no joy without suffering, no beauty without imperfection, and control is an illusion…only gratitude softens and makes way for love.” He smiled, then said, “You and the one who holds your heart will visit me when you are ready. We will talk.”
Twister could only nod.
A little stunned by the experience, he struggled to understand how that gentle man knew anything about Sadie, or his heart and soul, but then realized there were just some unexplainable things, and trying to control even that much was useless. When he got back to the guys, Dagger asked, “What the hell was that about?”
“Respect…and enlightenment,” Twister said in a simple explanation.
Dagger grinned and fist-bumped him.
The team dropped in by helicopter just over two miles from the target temple just as it began to steadily drizzle. The night was dark, humid, and hot. Dressed in jungle green camo with the sarong around each of their waists, NVGs, and bristling with weapons, they navigated the thick jungle along a narrow path with rice paddies to the left and right on the approach, down some rough-hewn dirt-covered mossy stairs, then having to cross over the quiet waters of a river using a long, single-file wooden bridge.
Below the stream was narrow and shallow with low muddy banks and a thick growth of water weeds and blush pink lotus flowers growing tall from dark green lily pads, the water murky. The rain had stopped, the clouds still thick and gray, giving them cover from the bright full moon.
“This looks like some Tomb Raider shit,” Flash murmured.
“Reminds me of Uncharted .” Easy’s voice was pitched low.
They were right. Everything was lush and overgrown, feeling abandoned and lost to nature. Humidity hung in the air like steam, thick and hard to breathe, intensifying the rich green scents of earth and loam.
They continued toward an open gate, sandwiched between two huge stone sentry dragons, their carvings pitted and worn smooth by time. Moss covered each of them, and the stairs cut into a slight incline. These gates were aligned facing away from Agung, welcoming worshippers. Twister felt a tingling along his nerve endings as if there was some type of electricity in the air. He shrugged it off, not losing his focus.
Each man scanned slowly for sentries. The only sounds were the wind and the rush of water from a rock wall into a pool below. This temple was structured with three courtyards—outer, middle, and inner. Basuki was in one of the shrines in the back, the hypocrite. The CIA asset marked the one he was holed up in with red infrared paint, and to Elang’s knowledge, Basuki was armed.
The first courtyard had three bales —one was a drum tower/watchtower, where the village drum was housed, the second larger and longer one with a thatched roof and no walls was a pavilion, and the second one was used to house food and other types of goods during a festival. They passed from the outer courtyard into the second at a crouched fast walk, the Balinese military spreading out for a perimeter watch as the team approached cautiously and quietly.
They passed quickly through the middle courtyard, his teammates clearing the wantilan , a primary meeting hall, a paon bale , a Bali kitchen, and another watchtower to make sure there were no armed Seven Demands followers hiding inside.
When they reached the third courtyard, the inner one called jeroan , the cockpit of holy energy, Twister irrationally thought he was glad they had the pedanda’s permission. They took turns covering teammates who removed their boots until all of them were padding silently in their swim booties.
The moment he entered through the third gate, as much as he tried to shrug it off, this weird, strong energy seemed to twine around him. Twister was a man who was rooted in reality, but this place had weight, and it pressed in on him, feeling mystical and old… ancient . He couldn’t explain the feeling, and maybe it was because his whole life seemed to be pivoting three hundred and sixty degrees after meeting Sadie, but it felt like he was coming into contact with a more whole way of being.
He took a hard breath as his teammates started to glow with a mixture of blue and red around them. It shook him down to his toes, and he wondered what the hell it all meant. It struck home to him how faith was a study in trust, that surrendering to a power stronger than he was felt infinitely right. He finally accepted the fact that not everything was in his control, no matter how hard he tried.
Suddenly, that feeling overcame him, and even though he was wielding a weapon with an intent to use it in this holy place, he was at peace. He was where he was meant to be. Infrared not only showed only one warm body, but that he was holed up in the gedong pariman , a very sacred place reserved exclusively so that their god could visit during ceremonies. It was also carved in stone with a multicolored wooden door in different shades of stain. Beside it was the mark they were looking for and would only show up through his NVG scopes. The Hindu symbol that Hitler corrupted for his own use, but in Sanskrit it was an icon of peace—the swastika. It looked nothing like the Third Reich’s emblem, resembling a large number three with a hook behind it, and on top of the hook, a swoop with a dot above.
“His whole following has abandoned him,” their translator said softly. “He is outcast now for what he has done at the airport and for desecration of this sacred ground.” The translator got closer, and his lips tightened. “He has renovated this structure and reinforced the door.”
Tex nodded. “Get ready to assault,” he said into the mic. “Dagger?”
Dagger walked to the building and worked his way around it. As their lead assaulter and EOD tech, he would make sure the door or any of the building wasn’t rigged to explode. “It’s all clear from the outside, LT. I can’t vouch for what’s inside.”
“Copy that,” Tex said.
“You think this guy wants to go out like a martyr?”
The translator shrugged. “I would say no. He wants his word heard, and dying would effectively cut that off.”
The team stood at the front door, using only their hands and eyes to indicate the imminent breach. Using an explosive strip, Dagger rigged the door, and Twister and his brothers moved to either side of the frame, then everything seemed to move in slow motion.
Twister was the first one through the door, and he spotted Basuki lunging for a gun. He tackled him, which was something Navy SEALs didn’t do. It was a risky move. If there was a threat, they neutralized it, but Twister didn’t want to spill blood in this holy place.
He quickly recovered and pinned the man down, zip-tying his wrists behind his back. They trekked back to the helicopters and turned the man over to the CIA’s makeshift interrogation camp housed in a twenty-foot-long Conex box, a shipping container with the doors and windows cut out.
This mission was complete. They had the man responsible for the airport tragedy, and David Burton was being hunted for Mercer’s death. Now all he had to do was curb his patience until Sadie found her answers to her deeply personal questions. She had to be settled, confident about her path, and as much as he hoped she would choose him to walk it with her, he was ready for whatever she decided. He wouldn’t have it any other way.