CHAPTER 17
One of the other Humvees backed up and the crew quickly attached a long iron tow bar between the two SUVs. We’d be out of there in no time.
As I climbed back into my Range Rover, I clocked the faces of my two VIPs.
William McKay and Travis Hunter, the young congressional staffers, were not quite white with fear, but they were definitely struggling to process the events of the last few minutes.
I gave them both a thumbs-up and closed the door. “Let’s get ready to roll,” I told Wolf.
Regardless of the political fallout and the shitstorm that was sure to follow, I knew I had made the right call. There was no way I could’ve just sat back and watched the enemy kill or maim an American soldier. Any levelheaded soldier would’ve done the same in my place.
The drive back to the base was silent except for Oliver making the checkpoint calls. Otherwise we all just sat and contemplated our future.
We followed the convoy directly to the unit headquarters.
There were plenty of soldiers running around, ready to assist the men who had just evaded death.
I saw a group of medics with their stretcher teams and medical gear moving the wounded to the triage site.
Rudy was still helping with the casualties.
As we parked the fleet and I exited the SUV, I spotted a phalanx of Army officers and one civilian walking over, moving with a sense of purpose. I suspected they were coming to apprehend me. Where the fuck did they think I was going to run off to, anyway? Syria?
Before they reached me, Oliver, Wolf, Meg, and JP moved into a semicircle behind me, more as a show of solidarity than anything else. The two VIPs were still getting out of the Rover when the leading officer spoke up.
“Sir, I need everyone who participated in the event to come with me.” His tone was even, rehearsed. He had probably spent the past hour practicing this line-in-the sand moment.
“Hold on a second,” I ordered.
The command seemed to catch everyone off guard. I was starting to feel somewhat put-upon. In no way, shape, or form was I going to have my team muscled by these guys—even if they were in charge.
“Let me check all my shit first, okay? Once I have my gear accounted for, then I will come with you for the inquisition.” I didn’t attempt to hide my slightly pissed-off tone.
“Sir—um, Mr. Phillips—yes, of course. We just need to get everyone into the briefing room ASAP. Colonel Knapp wants to speak with you immediately.” Knapp must have been the brigade commander.
“Sorry, Major—it’s been one of those days,” I said, searching for some empathy.
Travis Hunter, one of the congressional aides who’d been in our Range Rover, tapped me on the shoulder. He was probably twenty-six or twenty-seven, but he projected a confidence beyond his years, completely composed and totally sure of himself. He put his right hand out for a shake.
“Thank you for what you did back there, Mr. Phillips. I promise you that Congressman Jennings will get a full briefing on today’s, uh, events. Do not despair.”
His counterpart, Will McKay, stood behind him nodding.
“Do not despair?” I thought to myself. Who says that kind of shit? Still, the guy was friendly, and the gesture was sincere.
“Thanks, Mr. Hunter. I appreciate your help.” I shook the aide’s hand. He had a good grip. “Sorry for the excitement, but now we have to face the music.”
As the staffers walked off toward the civilian who’d been waiting behind the officers, I saw Hunter whip out a cell phone and punch in some numbers.
Hopefully some good will come from that call, I thought.