Chapter 2
Midas wasn’t happy. He and his team had originally expected to fly to a US Navy ship stationed in the gulf, but they’d learned at the start of the mission that the Danish special forces team had been instructed to go to Galkayo and bring Dagmar to the hospital.
Apparently, Magnus Brander had enough money for the government to give in to his demands to take his brother back to the town he’d been kidnapped from, so he could see his personal physician. Then, and only then, would he consent for Dagmar to be flown elsewhere…with his doctor in tow, of course.
On the helicopter, he and his team briefly discussed taking Lexie to the US ship and leaving Dagmar in the care of his own countrymen, but Lexie had become visibly upset for the first time upon hearing that plan.
In light of all that she’d been through, and because they were worried about her mental health just as much as they were her physical well-being, Mustang decided they’d continue with the previously altered plan to accompany the Danish soldiers, and Dagmar, to the hospital.
Dagmar’s physician would be allowed to do a short exam, Lexie could be seen by a doctor at the same time, then they’d get the hell out of there.
It would still be difficult for Lexie to say goodbye to the man she’d been held captive with for months, but hopefully after she’d had a little more time to process that they were safe at last, she’d be a bit calmer about leaving.
The situation wasn’t ideal, but the SEALs were used to having to pivot at the last minute. Besides, Dagmar did need immediate medical assistance.
The decision made, Lexie had quickly passed out against his shoulder, and no matter how loud the others spoke through the headset, she didn’t seem to flinch.
He marveled that she looked the same as she had in high school.
Well, not exactly. She’d matured, of course, but she had the same curly brown hair that seemed to have a mind of its own.
Even now, dirty from months in the desert, the strands seemed to be alive, curling around some of the equipment hanging on his vest. She’d used a piece of twine she’d probably found out in the desert to hold back the shoulder-length locks, but it wasn’t enough to completely tame it.
Midas remembered being fascinated with her hair back in high school, when they were working on their English project.
She was constantly shoving it back behind her ears, but inevitably it would fall forward again, annoying her.
Back then, she’d smelled like peaches, and he had no idea if it was her shampoo or lotion or what, but he’d associated the sweet fruit with her for months after he’d last seen her.
She didn’t smell like peaches now, of course, but that didn’t mean his brain didn’t recall the memory.
Her hazel eyes were just as he remembered, as well.
They’d had an uncanny way of somehow seeing through his bullshit.
There was one day when he’d been upset over something—he didn’t remember what—and when she’d asked how he was doing, he’d lied and said he was fine.
She’d studied him silently, then gently pushed for him to confide in her.
Aside from his parents, she may have been the only person in his youth who’d ever bothered to see beyond the cheerful jock he’d always tried to project.
She was about half a foot shorter than he was, and even though Midas hated to admit it, he hadn’t missed the way she’d filled out since high school.
Even after being in the desert for months, she was still curvy in all the right places.
He hadn’t been able to take his gaze off her ass as she’d climbed into the chopper.
He felt like a total dick for ogling her in the middle of an op, though it didn’t diminish his appreciation.
But more than her hair or her looks, Midas was impressed with her attitude.
Over the years, he’d observed just about every kind of reaction from the people they’d rescued.
Some were scared to death, others were hysterical and couldn’t be calmed down, and then there were the hostages who were pissed that they hadn’t been rescued faster.
But Lexie fell into a category all her own.
She’d stayed calm. Was obviously scared but hadn’t let it paralyze her.
She was worried about Dagmar, and smart enough to let the SEALs do their job.
It was safe to say Midas was intrigued. Lexie Greene had grown up to be what seemed like an amazing woman.
She shifted against him, and Midas tightened his grip on her as the chopper began to slow. They’d have to land a bit outside the town. Aleck and Pid, along with two of the Danish soldiers, would secure transportation while the rest of the group stayed with the helicopter and the freed hostages.
The situation wasn’t ideal, to say the least. The sun was rising, which meant the residents would be waking up. While this part of the country wasn’t as openly hostile toward Western soldiers, no one wanted to push their luck. Hence the reluctance to return to the town.
“Has anyone notified my physician that I’m here?” Dagmar asked as the chopper lowered toward the ground.
Midas frowned slightly. The man had remained awake throughout the flight, talking about what he’d endured in the desert. Not once had he asked about Lexie. Or if anyone had been hurt in the extraction.
He wasn’t overly impressed with Dagmar so far, sick or not.
“We’ll do that when we land,” Slate reassured him in a curt tone.
It seemed as if his teammates shared Midas’s thoughts on the man.
“She okay?” Jag asked, motioning to Lexie with his head. She was deadweight against Midas, which didn’t bother him in the least. He wondered when she’d last had a good night’s sleep. He bet it was before she was taken.
Midas nodded, not wanting to say much through the headphones with everyone listening.
It wasn’t until the chopper jolted as it landed that Lexie stirred. She lifted her head and looked around in confusion. Midas helped her remove the headphones after he and everyone else did the same.
He watched as she recalled where she was and what had happened. She turned and met his gaze, wrinkled her nose in apology. “Sorry I fell asleep on you,” she said in a low, husky voice.
A strand of her hair had become tangled in the webbing of his vest, and Midas reached up to free it at the same time Lexie did. Their fingers brushed against each other…and what felt like a jolt of electricity shot up Midas’s arm.
It was obvious she’d felt something similar, as her eyes widened and she immediately dropped her hand. “Sorry,” she said again.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” he told her. “I seem to remember your hair having a mind of its own in school too.”
She huffed out a laugh. “I’ve seriously thought about cutting it all off a time or two. It’s a pain in my ass.”
Midas looked at her in horror.
She rolled her eyes at his reaction. “It’s just hair. It would grow back. Besides, right now, it’s gross. If I’d had the chance, I would’ve chopped it off out in the desert.”
Midas knew that probably would’ve made her feel better physically, and maybe mentally too, but he couldn’t help but be relieved she hadn’t done it.
“Stay alert,” Aleck warned everyone as he and Pid jumped out of the chopper. “We haven’t had a chance to take the temperature of the town. We’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“Take the temperature?” Lexie asked as she looked at Midas.
“See how the citizens feel about Westerners,” Jag answered.
Lexie glanced his way and nodded. “I think, like in a lot of places, there are those who hate all things American and Western, but for the most part, I’ve found people here are gracious and welcoming.”
Midas smiled, as did his friends. They might be gracious and welcoming to someone like her, someone who was there to provide assistance and who was as nonthreatening as she was. But it was a whole different thing when it came to soldiers.
“Let’s hope that’s true,” Mustang muttered.
“You don’t believe me,” Lexie responded, sitting up straighter.
“It’s not that we don’t believe you,” Mustang said. “But you were kidnapped here. Those rose-colored glasses of yours might make it difficult for you to see the people who aren’t pleased to have Westerners in their town.”
“I’m not an idiot,” Lexie said in a controlled tone, while still somehow conveying her irritation.
“There are assholes everywhere. All you have to do is look at the news to see that. Back home, people are also killing each other. Abusing children. Holding people for ransom. Somalia, and Africa in general, isn’t any more dangerous than walking down the street in some of the neighborhoods where I grew up. ”
Midas couldn’t help but agree. She had a point. A damn good one.
Mustang nodded. “Right.”
“Seriously,” she insisted. “I’ve met some of the most generous people here.
Families who have nothing, but still offer to share the last scoop of beans in their pantry.
They’re a proud people, and I think all they want is to be treated with respect and to live a comfortable life.
Not an extravagant one, but a life where they aren’t constantly worried about where their next meal is coming from. ”
Midas remembered Lexie as being a bit submissive.
She’d always been quiet, never really said much.
But listening to her defend the people she’d met in Galkayo made him see her in another light.
She was clearly passionate, and she stood up for what she thought was right.
She’d definitely found something that she loved to do, and it showed.
She reminded him of a mama bear defending her cubs. It was impressive.
“Easy, I wasn’t trying to offend you or the Somali people,” Mustang said with a smile.
Midas felt her muscles relax. “Sorry,” she said with another adorable scrunch of her nose. “I’m protective of the people I work with. Just because someone doesn’t have much money doesn’t make them less worthy or a threat.”