Uniform Desires (Make Mine Military Romance) (25 page)

"I’m not mad at the commander."

"Then who are you mad at? I’m not into twenty questions right now. I have to get to the mess tent before O’Connell. I want to leave a candy bar for the cook to give her as a special treat."

"That’s it." He rounded on Reaper, his fists clenched. "That’s the reason I’m so jacked up."

"Because of a candy bar?" Reaper stared at him. "I have another if you want it."

"No, I don’t want your goddamn candy bar. I want you to leave Delaney alone."

Reaper’s brows dipped toward the bridge of his nose. "O’Connell? Why? Did the commander find out I was courting her?"

"No. The commander doesn’t know anything. But I do, and I want you to stop seeing Delaney."

"Why?"

God, could he do this? Tuck shoved a hand through his hair and turned away. "Just because I asked you to."

"Sorry, Tuck. That answer isn’t good enough."

Tuck struggled for one that made more sense when his own thoughts weren’t clear to himself. "You’re not the right man for her."

"I’m not?" Reaper grabbed his arm and jerked him around. "Are you saying I’m not good enough for her? Just because I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth doesn’t make me inferior. I’m a good SEAL, I make a decent living, and I care about her more than I’ve cared about anyone else in my life."

"That’s not enough."

"Why?" Reaper crossed his arms. "Give me one good reason why."

"Because..." Heat built in Tuck’s neck, rising up into his cheeks. He felt like his head might explode. "Just because, damn it! You’re not right for her."

"And what made you qualified to be the judge?"

"You’ve never been serious about a woman before. You flirt with every female you come into contact with."

"I’m done with flirting. O’Connell is the only one for me."

"How do you know? Another woman could come along and off you’d go, panting after her. Where would that leave Delaney?"

"I’m not going after another woman. I only want her."

"What if she doesn’t want you?" Tuck gritted his teeth, ready to tell Reaper the truth. But something made him stop and hold his tongue. She’d pretty much ended it with him.

"I told you. I’m out to convince her. Either you’re with me on it, or..." With a shoulder block, Reaper shoved Tuck. "Stay the fuck out of my way."

Chapter 5

Delaney had actually managed to catch a few hours of sleep during the hottest part of the day. The heat helped to drain her of energy, and she’d lain down on top of her sleeping bag, wearing nothing but her shorts and T-shirt.

She was jerked out of a sweaty dream of making love with Tuck when an unfamiliar voice called from outside her tent.

"Captain O’Connell."

"Just a minute." She sat up and pushed her hair off her damp forehead, then got to her feet and staggered to the door.

A private first class stood at attention outside. "Ma’am, your presence is required in the ops tent."

"Thank you, PFC Olinger. I’ll be there in five minutes."

The PFC saluted, executed a sharp right-face, and marched toward the ops tent.

The sun was well on its way toward the horizon, although the heat of the day still lingered. At least, the wind had died down and the sand had settled. Flying nights was easier than battling the buffeting winds and sandstorms of the daylight hours.

Delaney poured water on a washcloth and performed a spit bath, wiping away the sweat of the day before pulling on her flight suit and zipping it up the middle. Boots came next, and she checked her flight bag before stepping through the door.

Lindsay almost bumped into her. "Shoot. I was hoping for an update before you headed out."

"Nothing to update. I gotta go."

"The hot SEAL didn’t come by and declare his undying love?"

"Seriously?" Delaney laughed, the sound lacking any humor. "Not gonna happen."

"You’d be surprised. If the other SEAL keeps up his courtship, his actions might make SEAL number one realize he can’t live without you."

"I doubt it. In the meantime, I have to go." Delaney hurried toward the ops tent, anxious to hear the briefing on their next mission, hoping it wouldn’t include the team of SEALs from the night before.

As she stepped into the operations tent, her hopes were dashed. The same SEAL team she’d transported the night before was there, Tuck and Cory watching her every move as she entered and took a seat. The room was crowded with another SEAL team, her helicopter crew and a second one, as well as the team of operations planners including the Afghan informant who’d been instrumental in the interrogation of the Taliban member they’d extracted the night before.

Lieutenant Colonel Cooley, the Army Special Forces ops planner, and Navy Commander Backus stood at the front of the tent near the computer screen depicting the tactical map of the area of operation.

Through an interpreter, the Afghan operative told them of a Taliban stronghold in a village in the mountains. An important meeting would take place that night to discuss an attack on NATO forces.

When the Afghan finished, he was excused from the room. Once he was gone, Lt Colonel Cooley and Commander Backus took turns briefing the plan of attack.

The SEAL team was to get in, take out the Taliban leadership, and get out as quickly as possible. The village was said to be heavily guarded by the Taliban so they’d have to come in under the cover of darkness. Two helicopters would transport the teams as close to the location as possible, drop them, and get away until called to retrieve the men.

Delaney sat forward on her seat, adrenaline already thrumming through her veins. The flight would be dangerous, possibly more dangerous than the night before. There weren’t as many hills around the village to disguise their arrival and shield them from anti-aircraft weapons.

"An unmanned aerial vehicle will be deployed with the team. The weapons aboard the UAV will be used to take out the main target. But you must get a definitive target location. You know the drill, limit civilian casualties."

The SEAL team was given specific coordinates and departed to gather their weapons and gear, and do any last-minute planning amongst themselves. They’d have the toughest mission. Going door-to-door in a village was as dangerous as an operation comes. They never knew when the enemy would pop out of a building or a sniper would pick them off from above.

Cory and Tuck were the last SEALs out the door, both glancing back over their shoulders.

Delaney tried not to notice, refusing to look directly at them, though they were perfectly visible in her peripheral vision.

Lt. Colonel Cooley handed an electronic kneeboard and memory card to Captain Kuntz and the same items to Delaney. "Just remember, if the enemy is in range...so are you." He winked. "You two good to go?"

"Yes, sir!" Kuntz responded.

"I got this, sir," she replied, feeling more confident by the minute.

Fear wasn’t a factor of the mission. If she let in fear, she’d put the rest of the team and crew in danger. Pilots of the 160th had to act, not think. They had to be ready to rush into dangerous situations without hesitation. They’d trained these kinds of missions over and over while back at Little Creek with the SEALs. She could fly this type of mission practically blindfolded. The only variance was live enemy fire. Minor detail.

"Let’s do this." Delaney said.

By the time she stepped out of the tent, the sun had dropped below the horizon and the gray haze of dusk cloaked the desert. One by one the stars came out, twinkling in the sky above. Delaney loved flying at night. At times, she felt like she was a spaceship pilot, surrounded by the vastness of the universe.

Her father had instilled in her a love of the heavens and the curiosity that made her want to explore. She’d spent one childhood summer at Space Camp in Alabama. With the space program winding down, she’d joined the Army and trained to fly helicopters. Not as high as space, but equally thrilling.

For a few moments, she stared up at the stars, wishing her father could see her now. Maybe he could. Heaven was only a heartbeat away. Delaney hefted her flight bag and headed for the helicopters to perform her preflight check. Her crew stood beside the craft, ready for her inspection. She went over each member’s Air Warrior equipment, including the vest with body armor and armor plate, CSEL combat survival radio, NVGs, and knife. She and her copilot had been issued M9 pistols and ammo. In the cockpit, the crew stashed water and snacks.

Once she’d completed her crew inspection, her copilot checked over her personal equipment, then they began the aircraft preflight checklist. By the time she’d finished the exterior of the craft, climbed into the pilot seat, and strapped on the safety harness, the SEALs showed up, loaded for bear and appearing so dangerous, they could scare the locals into submission before they even lifted a weapon.

Decked out in the battle uniforms, PTAC and helmets, they all looked alike in the darkening sky.

Good. At least then she wouldn’t know who she had on board. Each man equally important as the next. So what if Tuck got on the other aircraft? At least then she wouldn’t be distracted by his presence.

The SEALs split into two details and climbed aboard the waiting aircraft.

Delaney started the blades spinning.

A hand on her shoulder was followed by, "Alpha Team, five souls aboard."

"Roger," she responded, her heart leaping into her throat. She could almost feel the heat of Tuck’s hand through the survival vest. Warmth and calm settled over her. Despite her resolve to remain unaffected by which team was aboard her aircraft, she was glad it was Tuck’s.

At exactly the designated hour, Delaney lifted off the ground and swung north.

Following the route specified on her kneeboard and in the flight computer, Delaney kept a vigilant eye on the terrain below, employing her NVGs to pick out any heat signatures along the way.

By the time they reached the drop zone, all the stars shone bright in the sky. At least the moon wasn’t adding to the brilliance of the night. Too much light and Al-Qaida manning anti-aircraft guns would be able to pick them off all too easily.

The two helicopters flew nap of the earth, hugging the terrain to avoid early detection. When they reached the drop zone, Delaney brought the Black Hawk to a halt, hovering twenty feet above the dry desert just outside the village.

Two by two, the men fast-roped to the ground, loaded with weapons and NVGs.

When her door gunner’s voice came through her headset, "Drop complete," Delaney took off, heading toward the designated safe area where she’d await the call from the men on the ground. A wait that would be the longest thirty minutes of her life.

Tuck hit the ground first and ran for the village, confident his men were right behind him. They’d practiced this maneuver so many times they performed as a well-oiled machine. Nearing the outer walls of the village, they encountered enemy fire.

Tuck gave the signal to drop in place. The other team followed the lead and hit the dirt.

After two more tracer rounds, Reaper had his man in his sights and picked him off with one shot.

Another hand signal and the team was on the move again.

Shouts went up from inside the mud and stone walls. The alert had gone out, and the people inside would be scrambling for weapons and positions.

Tuck and his team approached the east wall. When he arrived there, he bent down and the man behind him planted a boot in his back, leaped up to the top of the wall, and rolled to the other side so quickly no one could get a bead on him and fire before he was already over.

The next man flew over the wall, and the next until the fourth man topped the wall and reached down to grab Tuck’s hand, hauling him over the top as he slid down the other side.

Once inside the perimeter, Tuck led the way again, moving down the narrow streets between the buildings and outer walls of each dwelling, counting the doors to the ones identified by the Afghan translator who’d gotten the information from the captured Taliban leader. As they neared the identified door, Bravo Team would be converging on the opposite side to head off any escapees out the back.

Gunfire erupted from above. A Taliban soldier manning a machine gun fired down on Alpha team.

Each man hugged the wall, preventing the gunner on the top from getting a clear shot. All he could do was lay down suppression fire to keep them from stepping out to take a shot at him.

The gunfire came to an abrupt halt and they could hear the clinking of metal on metal. Most likely, the weapon had jammed.

Tuck motioned for Reaper to take the sniper, and he gave the signal for the rest of the team to follow him.

Behind Tuck, one round was fired, marked by a soft grunt followed by silence from the gunner. Reaper was a gifted marksman, an asset to any assault team.

Tuck moved on to the back side of the next compound and around the corner from his team. Reaper positioned himself at the corner, weapon ready, scanning the rooftops for more sentries.

With his back to the alley and feeling exposed, Tuck pulled C4 plastic explosives from his pocket. Despite their earlier argument, Tuck knew he could trust Reaper with his life. His friend had his back.