Page 28 of Married to a SEAL

Chapter 9

Patrick stretched his tight muscles as he stood, adjusting his communications gear and putting on his flak vest and helmet. Nothing like an uncomfortable fourteen-hour flight across the Atlantic in a cargo plane. Next he’d hop on an armored convoy with the rest of his men to the forward-operating base deep in the Afghani desert. He’d gotten only a few hours of shut-eye, dreaming he was on the beach with Rebecca and the kids. His gaze scanned the cabin, watching the other men on his team gearing up. He clenched his jaw.

He was about as far from Virginia Beach as he could be at the moment.

Just the other damn side of the world.

He took one last glance at the maps of the insurgents’ camp before pocketing them. He’d already memorized the details of where the buildings were located, his mind calculating all the possible scenarios of how the rescue op would play out.

One thing was certain—they wouldn’t be leaving without the American woman.

His gut churned at the idea of her being held hostage for over a week. When Rebecca had a stalker last year, he’d been beside himself with worry, needing to assure her safety at all costs. Every man on the team had stepped up, watching her 24/7. Imagining harm coming to this other woman had him seeing red.

He grabbed the rest of his gear, readying to disembark, but the CO’s voice in his ear instantly had him on alert.

“Understood,” he said quietly into his headset as he received some instructions from Little Creek.

“Listen up, men,” Patrick rumbled. All eyes swept to him. “We’re going in sooner than planned. The Pentagon moved up the timeline since Delta is already on the ground.”

“We’re moving in immediately, Ice?” Christopher asked.

“Affirmative. As soon as we rendezvous with Delta and go over the last-minute specs. These guys will get us to base,” he said, cocking his head toward the opened ramp on the cargo plane and the armored vehicles waiting below, “but once we’re there, we’re gearing up to go in and rescue the hostage. Two Black Hawks are already standing by.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Brent muttered, his eyes heating. “The sooner we get her out of there, the better.”

Patrick nodded, his blood pressure rising. Brent’s own sister had been killed years ago by a jilted ex-boyfriend, but none of the men took the idea of harm coming to a woman lightly. She’d been held captive for over a week, and there was no telling what her condition was.

He slid on his night-vision goggles and deplaned, his boots pounding on the metal ramp before walking across the dusty ground. A couple of strides more and he was hopping into one of the Humvees.

Their eyes swept the desert as the convoy rolled out, scanning the area for any signs of trouble. It would be a suicide mission for any of the locals to attempt to attack a large convoy, but that sure as hell hadn’t stopped them before.

After thirty minutes of speeding across the quiet desert, they were hustling into base and strapping on their gear.

“You checked the coordinates, Flip?” Patrick asked, calling Evan by his nickname.

“Yep, programmed right into everyone’s GPS. We’ve pinpointed the hut the American woman is suspected to be held hostage in within a matter of inches.”

“Good. We can’t leave a damn thing to chance. There’s been a lot of movement around the camp today, and SecDef is worried the insurgents know how valuable their hostage is. He could just be projecting, but recent chatter indicated they were raising the ransom to $100 million.”

“It’s on the news,” Christopher said, walking over in his flak vest and gear. He rested his HK416 assault rifle on the table spread with maps.

“Shit, already?” Evan asked.

“All over fucking CNN,” Patrick confirmed. “They ran a story this morning saying an American woman is being held hostage, but it’s been nonstop coverage all day. Hell, even Rebecca knew about it when I went to say goodbye to her this morning. It’d be too much of a damn coincidence for them not to figure out where we are. Operational security or not, the media handed this info to everyone on a silver platter.”

“Damn it,” Evan muttered. “Ali’s always worried enough when I deploy. It sure as shit doesn’t help that it’s splashed all over the news. They can practically watch it unfold in real time.”

“Guess we know why they moved up this rodeo,” Matthew drawled, adjusting his headset. He shucked his flak vest on, glancing down at the maps.

“Let’s get this fucking show on the road,” Brent said, eyes blazing. “Every minute we waste is another minute harm could come to the hostage.”

Patrick nodded, his gut churning. He didn’t like the idea of a woman in harm’s way, but the fact that the media had latched on to this story didn’t bode well for any of them. The insurgents holding her hostage could’ve realized she was a high-value target. Maybe they thought it would help them in negotiating with Washington, but maybe it would have the opposite effect. They could be all the more eager to harm her, knowing just how valuable she was.

The CO addressed them over the headsets from back in Little Creek. “Delta should be ready to roll out. They’re on the move now.”

Patrick’s gaze swept to the door as Delta team came into the room, already dressed in their tactical gear. He shook hands with Hunter, the leader of the Delta team. Some of the men on Patrick’s team already knew Colton, another member of Delta. Introductions were made amongst the two SEAL teams, and then they got down to business.

“The Alpha team will be sweeping in from the mountains,” Patrick said, pointing to the map. His gaze slid over the coordinates, his face hardening. “We believe the hostage is being held right here.”

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