Page 67 of Under Pressure

With a bayonet firm on the end of his rifle, Delta stealthily stalked the compound, readying himself to attack. Once he broke his cover, he would be up against dozens of men. There was little chance he would survive, but if he did it right, he could save a hostage. Counting down in his head as he watched one of the enemies getting closer, he found himself thinking about the decisions he’d made—and realizing that there really was no going back.

As the enemy got closer, Delta slashed out with his knife, killing the men easily. He sprinted to the compound wall and killed another…and another. Finally, he got to the compound door—slammed on it furiously. As the door opened backward, gunfire rained out of the dark hall, hitting Delta in the armor and slicing the skin on his legs. He pushed forward into the darkness without a care for his life, using his instinct to stab the gunman, but just as he pulled the blade out, he felt the man’s arms flail one last time, and a hot laceration slashed up the side of his face. It didn’t matter. Delt gritted his teeth and pushed on.

He stormed the room where the hostage was being held, feeling hot liquid flowing down his cheek.

“Who are you?” the hostage cried out in the dark, hope and fear in his voice.

Delta leaned in to slice the man’s bonds, heaving him up and assuring him, “I’m here to bring you home.”

“Jesus.” The hostage literally started crying. “Thank you. How the hell did you get in here?”

Delta ushered him forward, keeping his eyes on all angles. Now was going to be the hardest part—getting the man out. Thankfully, Delta realized, he was no longer alone.

Warren’s voice came over the perimeter, on the other side of the metal door on the stone wall. Within seconds, he burst through the door, kicking it down with his remarkable strength. Delta moved to pass the hostage to the chief.

“Get him out of here,” Delta snapped, and shot at an enemy on the top of the roof who was taking shots at Warren. “We’ll cover you.”

Warren nodded, hoisting the hostage up and returning him to safety. Warren remained, standing beside Delta and shooting at the remaining enemies.

“We’re not going to be able to get the fuck out of here!” Warren yelled, obviously realizing how many enemies were crawling onto the roof to shoot at them.

Warren and Delta were the only two left holding the cover. If they ran, they would be shot in the back immediately. Delta noticed to his right a way to climb to the top of the wall. From that point, he would have half-cover of the stone, and it would be at a good height to return fire on the enemy. He was a crack shot. He could do it.

“Run… I’ll cover you,” Delta demanded, ordering his best friend.

“No, I’m not leaving you. You’ll die,” Warren spat out, shooting at the roof—suppression fire.

“Trust me,” Delta bellowed as he sprayed bullets at the roof. Dying was no longer a concern of his.

Warren let out a laugh that sounded less than amused, but he seemed to realize Delta’s seriousness. Delta felt the absence of Warren’s body behind him as the SEAL fled the compound, returning to safety. Immediately, Delta let out a spray of suppression fire to allow Warren cover and moved to climb up the stone wall, attracting the attention of the enemies.

Delta’s sheer strength allowed him to push upward quickly, gaining footing on the top of the wall. He stood fiercely, looking the combatants in the eye across the expanse. Then he did what he was trained to do—what he’d signed up to do.

With calculated precision, focus and intensity, he shot mercilessly until every last enemy was dead. Breathing heavily, his eyes widening over the dark scene, he finally put his earpiece back in.

“Brother,” Warren’s concerned voice was growling into Delta’s earpiece. “Brother, you there?”

“Present and accounted for,” Delta replied, hearing an immediate sigh of relief on the other end. “Enemy neutralized.”

“Fuck, man—that’s not even human.”

“I know,” Delta replied, his voice cold and distant.

“Damn—you’re going to get the Medal of Honor for this, you know?” Warren said finally, a tone of disbelief in his voice. “You just saved an American hostage single-handedly.”

And that was when Delta’s stomach dropped, and he felt something for the first time that he didn’t want to feel. He didn’t want anyone to know. What I did was impossible.

Delta’s mind came back to the present and he touched the scar running up the side of his face, thinking about Kendra again and when she’d held her hand there. Every time a thought came up, he stifled it, trying to think about something else, trying to think about why being with her would never work. She wanted things that he could not give her—and he’d finally come to terms with that. He had to end it.

And now, he had to end it for their kid.

A part of him had known it all along. He’d been watching her, protecting her, and one day he’d seen her walking with a stroller outside her house. He’d known exactly what it was, but he’d stuffed it so far down into his steel vault that he’d denied it. He’d lied to himself.

He’d pretended he didn’t know. He’d pretended it wasn’t his.

Because it made it easier.

“What the hell was I supposed to do?” Delta rumbled to himself, thinking of Kendra, chucking a wrench backward on the concrete with his final adjustment.

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