Page 13 of Under Fire

Chapter Six

Warren

At the end of a quiet road in Wrightwood, California, Warren prepared his platoon for the next deployment, one that was promised to be long and hard.

“Boys, there are three types of people in the world.” Warren gripped his M4 carbine rifle, the infra-red laser pointer steady on a cardboard cut-out.

“Wolves,” he barked as he shot at the target.

Spinning, he stared at the Navy SEALs under his command, all hand-picked. He nodded past the gate as he began pacing around the team.

“Sheep.”

Halting, he growled. “And sheepdogs.”

The men stirred, holding onto their rifles and eyeing the simulated targets in the distance.

“We’re sheepdogs,” Warren continued. “Wolves are bad guys, trying to eat the sheep. We protect the sheep. We kill the wolves.”

He spun, aiming his rifle again, and decimated the target. Standing back, he watched each man carefully as he adjusted his suppressor. He was the leader who allowed no mistakes, exemplifying perfection. At his rank, he wasn’t always so hands-on, but this time, he had to get into the weeds. It wasn’t the platoon’s first rodeo, but the conditions for the next op would lead to tricky circumstances. They’d gone over the mission a hundred times, but given the tight timeframe and the rapidly approaching deployment, he had no choice but to keep drilling until everything was perfect. They only had one shot at it, figuratively and literally.

After they ran through the plan yet again, Warren glanced out over concrete walls and realized that the horizon was waking. The sun would rise soon over the training facility, purpose-built to Warren’s specifications. It was a replica compound, based on aerial shots of the enemy’s base just outside of Erbil, Iraq. Soon, they’d see it in real life.

Maybe Iraq wasn’t in the news as much as it once had been, but the fire raged on there—threatening all the hard work of allied troops over the years. There were some assets that the government wasn’t prepared to let slide and some enemies that would be hunted for the rest of their natural lives. A lion among men, Warren was more than happy to hunt them, tour after tour, for the rest of his natural life. He’d lost count how many times he’d been there, but he sure as hell knew Iraq had felt more like home in the past five years than his house in California.

After another half-hour of intense training, Warren’s crew circled around him, catching their collective breaths. He worked his men hard—harder than any other SEAL team. That was the expectation for being in this crew—for being the best of the best.

“Nice work, lads, but the party ain’t over,” Warren called out, stern and sharp. “Don’t expect to get any sleep tonight. We’ll meet back at o-dark-thirty for another long one.”

The rookie stepped forward, removing his helmet and sweeping back his sweaty brown hair. Warren shot him a look, wondering what the hell it was all about.

“Chief, um—Crash’s got his thing tomorrow,” Gaudet nodded to the guy beside him. “We’re all supposed to be there.”

Warren gritted his teeth as he sized up Crash, not mistaking how the other junior sailor inched backward. Sure, Warren knew all about the engagement party the next day. He knew because the bride wouldn’t stop fucking texting and calling. She’d been trying fucking hard to get him to go. Suspiciously so.

“So?” Warren barked. “Who gives a shit?”

Gaudet looked at Crash then back at the chief.

“So, if we don’t get any sleep tonight—” Gaudet coughed out but stopped.

Warren narrowed his eyes, his cold silence threatening.

Shifting in his stance, Gaudet slowly added, “He’s getting married—or at least trying to before we deploy.”

Warren let out an unamused, short laugh, shooting directly at Crash.

“Getting married? That’s an excuse to stop training? What the fuck do you think you signed up for?”

“We’ll be pretty fucking sapped,” Gaudet pointed out. “If we’ve got to go all night then go do that tomorrow.”

“So, ya’ll want a break to go play dress-up?”

Warren remained still and stiff, sensing the uneasiness he was driving in his men.Good.

For fuck’s sake.

He continued, “Don’t give me this wedding planner bullshit. I didn’t raise you to be bitches. We don’t stop. Weneverstop.”