Chapter 2
MIKEY
The office chair squeaked as I pushed off the ground, keeping the steady spin going.
“Yo, if you don’t quit, you’re gonna break that shit, and I ain’t getting yelled at on our first day back on tour,” Bernie hissed, shooting me a sideways glance.
Duncan slugged him in the shoulder. “He’s fine, shithead, the colonel isn’t here yet, and once this mission is finished, we’ll ship off somewhere else.”
“Oh, right. Plus, he gets a pass ’cause Rachel was an ass.” Bernie shot me a grin, highlighting how odd his stark, hyper-masculine features were on such a soft face.
“Eh,” I shrugged my shoulders. “That was a few months ago. I’m just bored.”
“Is that why Griff says you were on a women-free bender the entire fucking leave?” Ford inserted, eyeing me suspiciously. A breeze ruffled the tent flap, bringing with it a moment of relief from the heat that blazed down from the sun, unbroken by anything else in this desolate desert.
“I was busy selling the house and finding something new, asshat. There was no dedicated ‘women-free’ bender,” I grumbled and planted my boots down on the dusty sand, shooting a warning glare at my team.
“Not what Griff said,” Bernie quipped and leaned against the wobbly white table in the middle of the room. A few files labeled “Confidential” flapped from the movement as he crossed his arms.
“And since you lived with him and Jane all leave, we’re trusting his opinion on this shit over your broken-hearted ass,” Ford added.
Inhaling deeply, I leaned my head back and stared at the brown canvas stretched above us. “Eh, the moment I saw that dude fucking her, my heart quickly mended. I’m nobody’s second choice.”
But the thing was, they weren’t entirely wrong. While my feelings for Rachel were long gone and had been the moment that I’d walked into that room, my trust for women had not returned. Okay, so there was a part of my heart still twisted in the hands of anger. Anger for what she’d done. No matter how much I tried to deny it, she’d hurt me. And nobody hurt me unless I wanted them to.
I had wanted nothing to do with women while back in the States, and still wanted nothing to do with them. Not until I found a way to shake the open wound left by her choice.
This felt more like home than being back ever had, especially after that. And now, being here with these guys, sitting in the hot desert with nearly every modern accommodation non-existent, things just seemed right.
There were also only four or five women total out here at this outpost, all on the intelligence side of things, so I wouldn’t have to interact with them if I didn’t want to.
Out here, there was a sense of duty and responsibility. I was needed. I was wanted. The job required of me was more than just a job I was capable of doing, but one that I knew I would be able to do best. With these men by my side, no matter how annoying, we’d earned the right to be ranked where we were.
Mindless banter back and forth filled the empty space that was stuffy from the desert sun. Part of me wondered if I added up all the hours spent here in the Middle East versus back home in the United States, I’d logged more overseas.
A shadow passed by the entrance, and all five of us shot upright, knowing who we’d been waiting for. With the entire team standing at attention, the colonel himself ducked under the flap.
“Sit down, we’ve got a lot to cover and not a lot of time to do so,” Colonel Duke commanded, his voice stern as he immediately paced to the front of the small enclosure. In unintentional sync, all five of us spun on our heels to face the white table that separated us from the colonel. He ran a hand over a weathered face, gray hair speckling the tips of what used to be coal black, wispy strands.
“Alright, let’s first discuss the mission. While it’s fairly simple in terms, your captain wouldn’t have recommended you as the team assigned to this joint task if it actually was.” He snatched up a few files, thumbed through the manila envelopes and white papers, passing one for a douche named Merlin whose information showed up almost every deployment, and then finally plopped a file open on the table.
“Learn this name. Karim al-Jabari. I want it to be so ingrained on your ears and memory that even the slightest whisper of him sparks immediate attention.” The colonel leaned away from the table and crossed his arms as the rest of us tilted forward to study the only thing on the paper. My mind replayed the sound of his name spoken over and over as I scanned the printed letters. Not just in English but in Arabic, Kurdish, and several other languages that are prominent in this classified location.
“That’s it? His fucking name? No picture?” Dom asked, voicing the question that was rolling through my mind.
“That’s it. No one’s ever seen him, Lieutenant Commander.”
Dom shrugged. “Guess we’ve gone out with less before.”
“Hold on, you cocky sons of bitches,” Colonel Duke quickly interjected. He slid out the next manila folder and flipped it open with a hiss. My footsteps drew me closer to the table as a single picture met my gaze. “We have a little more than a name.”
“The hell is that?” Duncan murmured, running his fingers over his light-brown mustache as he stared at the blurry photograph that I was trying to dissect as well.
“It looks like a briefcase,” Ford grumbled, his low voice grating like rock on steel.
“It is technically a briefcase. But not just any briefcase. We call it the ‘Black Box’ and anytime it’s appeared on our radar, Karim al-Jabari has been associated with it. His name consistently comes up around this Black Box and known associates of al-Jabari are always seen with it.” The colonel flipped the blurry photograph over and revealed a slightly more focused one. With a black leather handle, the briefcase had ridges and seemed to be made of something more solid than simple cardboard. This was more than just a briefcase. Whatever was inside was extremely valuable.
“When did this fucker show up?” Dom asked.
“We heard rumors of his rise during your team’s last deployment, Lieutenant Commander, but he only recently jumped on our list of priorities due to the fact that we believe he’s planning some sort of attack directly onto US soil. The chatter surrounding his name and his resistance against the power-hungry greed of the West has become focused, more…substantial.”
“And you want us to go in and extract this Black Box?” Ford questioned to my left.
“Correct.” Colonel Duke flipped the folder closed and slid everything back into a neat little pile.
“What’s in this Black Box?” I asked, tucking my arms over my chest.
“No fucking clue since it’s locked with a code, but once we break in, we hope it’ll lead us to Karim al-Jabari so we can stop whatever he’s planning before he’s able to carry it out,” he replied.
“Alright, well,” Dom began. “Are we headed by chopper or—”
“Not yet, Commander,” the colonel cut him off. “We’ve already got a team of two behind the lines. Which is why you weren’t needed sooner. However, we’d like them to stay there even after we get our hands on the Black Box. Once we hear from one of them on the most recent location and where it will be transferred to, then you’ll be sent in to extract it.”
Duncan inhaled deeply and arched a brow. His deep-set eyes studying the photo that was hidden. “And hopefully snag a sighting of the fucker Karim al-Jabari,” he muttered.
“Since we have yet to ever see him with this box, we also hope maybe sending in your team will result in some new intel. Make this man more than just a whispered name within this terrorist cell.” The colonel picked up the stack of folders and sifted through them again as a droplet of sweat slid down the side of my face. Running the back of my hand across the moisture, I quickly swept it away as Ford adjusted the collar of his shirt, already coated in a wet ring. His callsign of “Tank” wasn’t just fitting because he was our weapons officer, but because he was built like a fucking tank.
“And lastly, here’s your temporary team member for this deployment,” Colonel Duke said and slapped down a final manila envelope.
Dom inhaled deeply and leaned back. “What’s the brass got for us this round?”
“Corporal Scottie Aleck, sniper. And yes, your captain is aware of this, even though the corporal comes from the Army. It’s a…” He paused, chewing on his thoughts for the right words. “Let’s just say, they want to test some things out.” Colonel Duke slid out a single white sheet and placed it on top of the folder. I quickly scanned the minimal words on the paper and furrowed my brows.
“It doesn’t mention any special ops training at all?” I questioned, running my eyes across the short list of qualifications again, hoping I’d missed something.
Dom leaned forward and picked up the paper. “You’re assigning us a kid who hasn’t been through any sort of special forces training outside of the Army sniper course?” His eyes widened as he lifted his shocked gaze to the colonel. Even my mind couldn’t comprehend what was going on. BUD/S training was the bare minimum for Navy SEALs.
“Look,” Colonel Duke began and sighed heavily. “Your captain didn’t have much say on this. The upper brass from the Navy and Army are wanting to make a political statement, and honestly, your team has denied every previous possible recruit, so, given the nature of this mission, the Army reached out and you got stuck with this. Be happy that at least this corporal was top of their class and you aren’t saddled with someone who’s not as qualified.”
Stepping back from the table, my eyes scanned my team. Bernie pursed his lips but said nothing as Dom placed the paper back down on the folder. He, too, kept his mouth shut.
“Alright, go unload your gear, meet your teammate who’s already at your quarters, and be on standby because the moment the intel comes in, you’ll be choppered out,” Colonel Duke said and gathered up the files. He whisked out of the tent without another word.
Silence filled the space between us as the flap settled back down, only moving once in a while with the scalding desert heat seen rolling across the sand. “Well, let’s go find our tent and meet this Corporal Scottie Aleck,” Dom finally grumbled and cracked his neck.
Ford ducked out of the tent first, and I followed him out into the sun. There wasn’t much logical organization to this outpost, especially since it was small, classified, and temporary. Every structure here could be torn down in a matter of minutes, packed away, and all traces that we were the ones huddled behind the HESCO barriers gone within a single command from the colonel.
“We’re not cocky,” Bernie grumbled, breaking the low rumble of voices chatting, mixing with the faint pops of gunfire and grunts from whatever physical training was going on. We weaved around dusty-colored tents serving as temporary sleeping quarters.
“You’re cocky, the rest of us are just confident,” Ford retorted, and Bernie rolled his eyes.
As we passed several soldiers stationed here, many of them nodded or shouted simple greetings my way. Too often our team joined up with other branches of the military, and apparently my reputation preceded me—though I never quite understood it. I offered a simple nod in return but didn’t say much. My mind was clouded enough with the information we were given.
“The ever-popular Mikey.” Bernie bumped me with his shoulder, and I raised a brow, glancing over at him.
“Why is it that everywhere we go—” Duncan began.
“Bitches always know!” Ford interrupted, singing at the top of his lungs.
“That Johnny—” I started to join in.
“Anyway,” Dom emphasized, quickly shutting down the conversation turning dirty, and turned. He stopped walking and shot a silencing glare at all of us. “This one’s it.” His voice lowered, drawing us all in. “So, shut up, fools, before your first impression on this new guy is fucking immature and the brass decides to send us someone even less qualified next tour if we decide to not keep this one.”
My stomach churned, anticipation for whoever was joining our team roaring hot in my veins. Part of me wished Griffin would come out of retirement so we weren’t constantly trying to mesh with someone new. The other part, well, I was annoyed to say the least, that we’d been assigned someone who hadn’t even been through BUD/S.
Dom scanned us once more and then grabbed the flap of the tent and lifted it wide open.
“Welcome to your first day in hell, Corporal!” Bernie called out to the lone figure standing in the corner near a bedroll, as he ducked in behind Dom. I followed him inside and my feet froze immediately. Duncan smacked into my back, but my body barely swayed as the crooked grin on Bernie’s face immediately crashed to the floor along with his jaw.
My teeth snapped together, and every sound became a distant hum.
A woman.
Corporal Scottie Aleck was a woman.
Long, slender fingers worked hair as black as obsidian into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. The movement that had my stomach buzzing like television static slowed as she turned around. Her calculating, amber eyes danced across the silent group of us, and there was not an ounce of self-control available for me to keep my eyes from wandering down her body. My heart had never pounded as heavily in my chest as it was at this moment. Each movement of her athletic figure exuded a wall to keep all those around her at bay, and my competitive side roared at me to start destroying it. Every drop of blood in my veins flowed hot down my spine, prickling as my eyes slid back up her figure, and her gaze rested against mine.
She lifted a single brow, her high, prominent cheekbones as sharp as the razor-like glare of disapproval that she sliced my way. Never before had my eyes been graced with a woman like her. Not once in my life had I ever come across someone who looked as enticing and cunning as she did.
And it pissed me the hell off.
“Fuck this,” I stated flatly, blindly tossing my rucksack into the tent and turning on my heel. So much for not having to deal with untrustworthy women on this deployment. So much for freedom and an escape from a world that held something I had no faith in.
I needed to blow off some steam.