Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Awakening Aubrey (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Jack 'Em Up Book 7) (6 page)

Jude

“Cortez.”

I glanced over at my commander’s voice in the doorway and quietly excused myself from the tactical training video with a nod to Master Sergeant Creed.

“Sir?” I joined Col. Remington in the hallway.

He snapped an envelope my way. I stared down at the official seal of the United States Army. “What’s this?”

“It came in this morning from Ft. Benning. I’d imagine it’s about your application to Ranger school.”

My heart sped up to triple digit speeds as I looked again.

3
rd
Battalion, 75
th
Ranger Regiment, Fort Benning, Georgia.

I fought the urge to sag to the floor with my commander staring me down.

“Aren’t you going to open it, Sergeant?”

“Yes, sir.” I slid a shaking finger under the flap and cracked the seal. This was it. My future in a simple envelope. I drew out the paper and tried to read, though the words swam together like alphabet soup. I sucked in a deep breath and focused.

The word
Congratulations
came into view and I grinned like a loon.

“Sir!” Corporal Jones rushed in the front doors, leaving them to slam behind him. “We have a situation. I’ve been told to get you immediately, we need all hands on deck. Not a drill.”

Col. Remington eyed him, then me, then turned back, his face all business. “Let’s go.”

“Do you need me, sir?” I asked. If it was a real world situation, training could wait.

“Let me assess the situation. I’ll let you know.” With that, he was out the door behind Jones, leaving me with a bad feeling.

I scanned my acceptance letter again then shoved it in my pocket and went back to class, dread now squelching any sense of accomplishment.

MSgt Creed eyeballed me when I rejoined the group. “Everything okay?”

“Not sure. Guess we’ll hear in a few.”

Within minutes, Col. Remington burst into our room, followed closely by Fletch and his friends. “Can we have a moment, Master Sergeant?”

Fletch’s eyes met mine, but otherwise, nobody said a word as Creed joined them for a hushed conversation by the door. The longer they spoke, the more anxious I became. Some serious shit must be hitting the fan for this kind of interruption of a training session.

Creed glanced my way, something sinister in his dark eyes, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I walked over. “Sir?”

Fletch leaned in toward the Colonel and said something under his breath. Col. Remington shot me a look then bowed his head.

Not. Good.

“What is it?” I demanded. “How can I help?”

The Colonel tipped his head toward the door and we all stepped back into the hall. He faced me, his eyes deadly serious. “We’re in the middle of a situation on base and we’re on lockdown.”

“Situation?”

“A hostage situation. An ex Special Ops soldier has taken over the PX with deadly force, and it’s estimated there are at least ten hostages currently, and he’s not talking. Sgt First Class Fletcher and his men are taking point on this because he used to be one of theirs and they know what we’re up against.”

“So, what are our orders currently?”

“We’ll be assisting as needed, but we’re standing down for now. You aren’t to participate at all. I can’t have one of my soldiers getting in the middle of things, making stupid decisions, for personal reasons.”

“Personal reasons?” My eyes flew to each man’s face, but they gave nothing away.

Fletch finally took pity on me and yanked me aside. “You have to stand down, Cortez.”

“What? Why?”

“Aubrey’s inside.”

My entire body went numb as I processed his words. “Aubrey? Wha . . . how?” I raked a hand over my head. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. We’ve already reviewed the surveillance tapes and she was seen walking into the PX minutes after our gunman and nobody’s been out since. I called Blake and he confirmed he’d sent her to meet me to pick up some cash for a car part. She went inside before I could get there.”

I blinked in disbelief.

“I was running late to meet her. If I’d been there on time . . . fuck. I’m so sorry, man, but we will get her out of there. I swear.”

Now I did sag against the wall, not sure what to think or say or do. All that circled my brain was that I might lose Aubrey and I hadn’t told her I loved her.

I met Fletch’s steely gaze, then my Colonel’s. “I can’t stand down. I have to be there. I need to help. Please.”

Col. Remington studied me one long moment. “Fine. But you’re not to overstep your training and get involved, do you hear me?”

“Sir, yes, sir.” I stood and followed them outside to a waiting van.

“Let me debrief the class and dismiss them for the day. Be right back,” Creed said before loping inside.

Within five minutes, I was at a temporary command post fifty feet from the front doors of the PX, surrounded by my commander, my senior NCO, a sprinkling of other MPs, Asher Creed, Fletch, and his men. If there was ever a doubt in my mind that those guys were Special Ops, it was gone now. No need to confirm or deny. It was damn obvious in how they worked.

Floorplans were rolled out, tactical gear was suited up, guns loaded, directives barked. It was all a well-oiled machine, but all I could focus on was that my girl was somewhere inside and I was helpless to do a damn thing.

Tents protected us from the downpour of warm rain, but did little to stave off the whipping wind that felt exactly like the turmoil that was eating up my heart.

I was left to man the radio the MPs were using to communicate, but we were on the periphery of this Op. I watched as they tried calling inside on landline phones and using a bullhorn, but nothing. Absolute radio silence from the inside. Everyone could be dead for all we knew. The reflective glass on the front made it nearly impossible to be certain what was inside or how many casualties, and I knew they were hesitant to go in blind.

They finally got heat signals of a dozen hostages on the ground and the Tango walking the aisles. Someone was able to climb to the roof and sneak in a small camera to ascertain what kind of weaponry this guy had on him and if he’d laid any traps. The more they learned, the worse the situation got. Besides the SCAR MK 17 assault rifle he had over his shoulder, most likely loaded with armor piercing bullets, there was a stockpile of other deadly weapons in the back of the store: An M40A5 rifle with a flash hider and suppressor, a Saiga-12K Flechette rifle, gas masks, tripwire mines, grenades, two FN five-seveN pistols, an RPG launcher, and ammo out the ass. He’d come to play.

Two hot, rainy hours later, nothing. No movement, no talking, nothing. They were able to get a name, Sgt. Brian Rhodes, and his psych history. He’d been medically discharged with severe PTSD after two tours in Iraq, and had been having violent hallucinations and paranoid delusions ever since. He was obviously off his meds and had escalated into a full-blown psychotic crisis. But that did nothing to help Aubrey or the other hostages.

The thought of losing her was ripping my insides to shreds, but I couldn’t afford to go there. Not now. I had to focus.

I swiped the sweat from my brow and kept doing my job. Fletch kept shooting me glances as if making sure I still had my shit together, but I wouldn’t let them see me break.

There was a sudden burst of activity as someone radioed that Rhodes was on the move toward his weapons stock.

“We’ve got to go in,” Creed said. “We can’t let him loose on those weapons with all those hostages as sitting ducks.”

Ghost, who’d taken lead on the Op, studied the store front, then flicked a glance at the floorplans, then faced Creed. “I think you’re right. We’ve waited long enough.” He faced his men. “Blade, Hollywood, you’re up. Take the front. Coach, Truck and I will take the back. Fletch, I want you and Beatle to watch our flanks then come in when it’s clear. We should have Rhodes contained by then.” He turned back to Creed. “Can you keep a watch on the intel that’s coming from the inside? Radio us with any changes.”

“Sure thing.”

Fletch met my eye and nodded in acknowledgement. God, if only I was already a Ranger, I could help. Do more than watch and wait.

“You know they can’t let you help, right?” Creed joined me and spoke as if he read my thoughts. “Even if you were on the team, they’d make you sit this one out. Can’t risk your heart clouding your mind.”

I snapped to attention, hating him for speaking those words, and equally hating that he was right.

He clasped a hand on my shoulder. “But, no matter what, any one of those men would be smart enough to back away if they thought for one second their judgment was affected. For any reason. It’s the only way to take care of your fellow soldiers.”

I nodded. He was right. I had to know my limits, even if I hated them.

We waited several long minutes together as the rain finally passed, leaving a thick cloak of humidity. The collective stress hovered and built over all of us the longer we heard nothing from our guys.

Creed kept his attention focused on the intel trickling in at a snail’s pace, relaying anything I needed to pass on to the MPs. Ambulances, firetrucks, and EOD were all on site and primed for action.

MSgt Creed narrowed his eyes, focusing on the small screens showing what the remote cameras captured. His body language tensed and coiled as he radioed in. “Watch your six, the Tango is on the move, I repeat, he’s on the move—” His words cut off as something else flashed on the screen. Suddenly, he tossed off his headset and sprinted toward the doors as he pulled his Sig from his holster and slammed his way inside.

Within seconds, those of us on the outside had scrambled to ready positions and Col. Remington took over Creed’s position, barking into the headset. I fought to hear what the hell was going on over the radio as adrenalin spiked my bloodstream, chaos and static filling the line.

Screams.

Yells.

The unmistakable boom of shots fired.

“Fletch, he’s right on you!” Remington screamed into the radio. Then, “Hostage down! Hollywood, you’re closest, female hostage down at twelve o’ clock, about one hundred feet from you. You’re clear to move.”

Blood shot from my heart like machine gun fire, so hard I felt the ricochet in my temples. Bile surged up my throat, tasting like panic as I pictured curly red hair pooled in blood.

God.

I began to pace behind Remington, trying to see what was on those fucking screens, but his large body blocked my view.

“Creed!” He barked. “God damn it!”

The air suddenly filled with rapid fire as multiple shots were fired, too many to count. The entire force behind the perimeter stilled, their focus fiercely absolute. One way or another, Ghost and his crew would finish this now.

Then it was still.

Silent.

In a flurry, Remington directed backup inside, followed minutes later by medics and EOD to disable any explosives the Tango had set.

And still, I was handtied to do anything as the Colonel shot me a quick, stand-down glare when I paced his way. “Don’t even think about it, Sergeant. It’s over now.”

“But, sir—”

“No buts, Cortez. It’s. Over. You stand your post, that’s an order.”

Impotent rage vibrated through me, but his steely eyes offered no argument. I finally nodded in acknowledgement and sunk into the closest chair, my mind a tornado, the eye of the storm whirling with one singular, continuous thought.

I. Could. Not. Lose. Her.

Aubrey

Seven minutes earlier . . .

I was so numb, I couldn’t even be afraid. The longer this guy paced and talked to himself and checked the parts of his rifle, the more I accepted I was not going to make it out alive. None of us were. That would be a miracle, considering how he’d barricaded us in after my untimely entrance. All I could focus on was that I might never see my family again. Or Jude. This beautiful thing I’d just found was about to die with me and the unfairness of that weighed heavy on my soul. Why?

My eyes darted around, assessing any route of escape. I saw none. Wasn’t help coming? We all heard the incessant ringing of the phone and the negotiators talking through the bullhorn, but this guy was in his own world of battle and enemies and wasn’t processing a thing other than his own delusion, that much was obvious.

“Rhodes,” a male voice suddenly yelled from the back, making our captor pause in his incessant pacing of the aisles. “It’s Ghost. From Sarajevo. We need to talk, man.”

My heart lurched at the familiar voice. Ghost was one of the good guys. Maybe we’d get out of here after all.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he yelled back in one of the first coherent sentences I’d heard from him.

“Sure there is,” Ghost replied calmly. “Why don’t you let one of those hostages go and we can work this out.”

Glassy eyes shot my way and I fought the urge to puke as he pinpointed me with his eerie, empty gaze. “What hostages? These people are not hostages, they’re targets. Don’t you see?” He toed the same older woman he’d thrown down earlier in the ribs, making her groan and cry out. “Shut up!” he screamed at her.

Ghost and a couple of his guys crept into the main store area in full military gear, guns pointed. He silently pressed his hand down, indicating for us to keep quiet as he kept that Rhodes guy in his sights.

From the side of the building, as if out of smoke, Fletch appeared and my heart sped up as he crept down the far aisle, his head low so his target wouldn’t see him.

The woman at our captor’s feet began to scream bloody murder as he yanked her up by her hair, hate and murder in his eyes. He produced a pistol from his waistband and pointed it at her head.

I couldn’t watch this. I squeezed my eyes shut and curled into a ball, tucking my head between my arms. I summoned thoughts of the people I loved most . . . my mom, Rachel, all the guys at the shop, Jude.

I still didn’t look as people yelled and boots stomped all around. Glass shattered behind me, tiny shards pelting my back as warm air sailed in from outside. Smoke and chaos filled the air as people panicked and shots blasted.

Then it was silent.

Eerily silent.

I couldn’t bring myself to look up. I just focused on breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

“Clear!” another male voice yelled from the back somewhere.

“I’ve got one hostage down,” another yelled. “Who’s got the Tango? Ghost?”

“Contained. Sound off!”

“Fletch.”

“Coach.”

“Hollywood . . .”

One by one, names were called, voices came closer. A warm hand curled around my arm. “Aubrey?”

I slowly slid my eyes open and peered up into the familiar face of Fletch’s friend, Asher Creed. “Yes.”

A small, pained smile ghosted across his lips. “Thank God. Cortez is going crazy out there . . .” He grimaced and I glanced down, shock making my stomach curl.

“Oh, my God, you’re shot!” I crawled closer and gingerly put a hand to his bloody thigh. I met his eyes again. “What can I do?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but one of the other guys spotted us and footsteps pounded over. “Creed! What the fuck, man?” Another guy I recognized, Truck maybe, knelt down and made quick work of fastening a tourniquet around his friend’s leg while the radio on his shoulder crackled with military code. I heard Ghost’s voice announce the Tango had been neutralized.

“The guy?” I asked, fear making my voice shaky.

Truck shot me a quick glance. “Dead.”

“The old woman?” I needed to know.

He shook his head once as if he couldn’t bear to say it out loud.

“She . . . he killed her?”

He didn’t look up from his work on his friend. “Yes.”

I sagged down in grief and shock. Then I noticed the growing puddle of dark red blood oozing from Creed’s leg as his face grew pale and his breathing labored. I wanted to crawl into a hole and nurse my horror, but there was no way I was going to do that. I was alive while two people were dead and this soldier was bleeding out because he’d come in here to save us.

I sucked in a breath and pushed closer, clasping his clammy hand. “I want to help.”

Truck peered at me from the corner of his eye. “Hold pressure here, as hard as you can.” He pressed my hand into the warm, bloody mess of his friend’s thigh. “The tourniquet should hold, but he’s still losing a lot of blood.” I pushed as hard as I dared. “Can you do that while I find out where the hell our help is?”

I nodded.

He rose and static sounded from a radio. “We need medics now. Soldier down.”

Creed closed his eyes and I found myself watching the rise and fall of his chest as I pressed hard on his leg, blood oozing hot and thick between my fingers.

I watched in a sort of suspended animation as soldiers and paramedics poured in, tending to the hostages and covering dead bodies with tarps. One with kind green eyes made his way over to me when Truck waved him our way.

He knelt down and gently pried my hands away to assess the bleeding. “You okay?” he asked, shooting me a brief glance.

I sunk to my butt on the cold floor. “I think so.”

He added more pressure and an additional tourniquet to staunch the bleeding then opened his pack and started an IV. Eventually, a gurney was wheeled in and another paramedic helped load Creed up. I realized our hands were still linked and when I tried to pull away so they could take him, he squeezed, giving me a warm jolt of reassurance.

“You’ll be okay,” I murmured, though I had no idea if that was a lie. That was a lot of blood.

Truck helped me to my feet. “You sure you’re all right?”

I nodded mutely as I began to shake.

He grabbed a blanket from a nearby shelf and wrapped it around my shoulders, drawing me close. “It’s the shock. It’ll wear off.”

I nodded and stared up into the face that many people must find scary with his crooked nose and jagged scar that caused a perpetual scowl, but all I saw were kind eyes. I sunk into his strength and let him half-walk, half-carry me outside. The sunshine burst on my skin in a rush, immediately warming me, and I breathed in a deep breath of freedom.

He deposited me under a thatch of trees, where more medics were lined up to double-check everyone.

“Aubrey!” I whipped around at Jude’s frantic voice and stilled at the pure, unadulterated fear I found in his eyes.

He rushed over and forced his way through the crowd, not stopping until I was in his arms. “Are you okay, baby?”

I melted into his chest and inhaled his familiar scent, letting it soothe my heart. “I’m fine.”

He pressed a kiss to my head and led me to the next available medic, where he watched anxiously while I was checked over and deemed uninjured. I settled back into his embrace and we made our way to the periphery. He held me while I shook and cried and let the warmth of life surge back through me.

He rubbed my back and calmed me like nobody else could. I finally peered up into those luxurious brown eyes I loved so much. “The guys must be so worried.”

He reached into his pocket without letting me go and handed me his cell phone. “Here. Call them.”

I smiled my thanks and dialed Jesse. He was freaked at first since they hadn’t heard anything other than that I was stuck in a hostage situation and the base was on lockdown so they couldn’t get to me. “I’m fine, I promise. It’s over.”

“Jude’s got you?”

“Yes.”

He seemed satisfied with that, especially when I promised I’d be back at the hotel as soon as I was able to get off base.

“Where are you guys now?” I asked.

“We’re still at Jude’s place. We figured we’d get news quicker here than at the hotel. They wouldn’t let us within fifty feet of the front gate.”

“You tried to get in?”

“Of course we fucking did. I’m sorry we couldn’t be there, but I’m glad Jude was.” He was silent a moment. “The guy really cares about you, you know.”

I glanced at the man next to me. “Yeah, I know.”

We talked a few more minutes and I reassured him a dozen more times that I wasn’t hurt. Finally, to divert the conversation, I asked, “What about the junkyard?”

“Fuck the steering box,” he barked. “You’re more important. We can pick it up later.”

“Does Rachel know what happened?”

“Hell no! She’s in no condition to be worrying about anything unless she has to. Besides, she would’ve been here in a hot minute to mother you. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks. Love you,” I said, greedily letting Jude continue to comfort me.

“I love you, too, Red.”

We hung up and I handed Jude back his phone. “When can I leave?”

“Let me check.” He reluctantly let me loose and loped over to the command post to talk with some of the other cops and Fletch. They shot me a quick look then said a few more words before he ran back. “If you’re up for it, they just want a statement of what you saw then we can get outta here.”

“Okay.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. I just want to finish this and move on.”

“All right.”

He led me to his commanding officer, an imposing man with thick gray hair and an air of authority. His eyes softened when he spoke to me. “Ma’am. I’m Colonel Remington. We’re so very sorry for what you experienced today. Is there anything at all that we can do?”

I shook my head. “Just ask me what you need to then let me go home.”

He nodded curtly and we sat for a quick interview. I told him all I remembered, trying my best not to shake when I recalled the dead body behind the register and how he’d held a gun to that woman’s temple.

When we were done, he stood and shook my hand. “Thank you for your time. Please contact us if you think of any other details or need anything . . . anything at all.”

“Thank you.”

The Colonel tipped his head in some kind of silent acknowledgement, then Jude led me away to his Trans Am.

The warm leather enfolded me like a lover and I inhaled his scent that filled the air. We drove off base after Jude flashed his ID.

“They’re letting you leave? Don’t you have to work?”

“The Colonel let me have the rest of the day to take care of you.”

“He did?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate, but the tight pull of his jaw spoke volumes. This ordeal had been hard on him. I just wished I knew why. Was it because it was an intense situation and he was an MP, or was it because he had real feelings for me? I could only pray.

I leaned my head back on the headrest. “I know I said I wanted to go back to the hotel, but can we stop somewhere quiet first? I need a few minutes.”

“Sure.”

I closed my eyes and let him drive wherever he wanted to go. We finally parked and I slid my eyes open to take in the parking lot and walkway of a park. There was nobody there, probably because of the recent rain. Puddles littered the cement and a couple of birds bounced along the ground, hunting.

“This okay?” he asked softly.

“It’s great.”

“Wanna walk?”

“Not really.”

He nodded and rolled down the windows, letting in the fine breeze that smelled fresh after the rain. We sat in silence for a long time before I finally reached for his hand. “I lied to you, Jude.”

“What?”

My heart thumped madly behind my ribs, but for a whole different reason. Today, while I’d lain on the cold, hard floor, fearing I was not going to live to see another day of my future, I had a lot of time to think. And I didn’t want to waste one more moment. It was time to tell the truth and take whatever the fates had in store.

I met his confused stare and squeezed his fingers. “I lied.”

“About what?”

“About it just being sex. It’s not. At least not to me, and I can’t leave here without you knowing how important you’ve become to me. I’ve fallen in love with you, Jude. It’s soon and probably crazy, but it’s true, and I needed you to know.”

He swallowed thickly, but didn’t let my hand go. “I love you, too.”

I blinked, shocked. “You do?”

“Oh, God, Aubrey, you have no idea. I fought it and denied it and tried to make it not true, but when I thought I’d lost you today, I realized how stupid that was. I love you so damn much it hurts.”

Tears filled my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. “I love you, too.”

His grin was sweet and sexy, wrapped up in cute. “You already said that.”

“Oh. Just making sure you got it.”