Page 84 of Under Fire

The crewmember nodded, opening the bed of the truck to pick apart Warren’s pelican cases. This time, Warren was bringing his latest plate armor. He’d invested in a custom job to keep his back safe, unable to afford any further injury.

Warren marched with purpose toward the hangar, ready to prep before the rest of his crew arrived. A somber mood hung over the airfield as he entered the staff building, knowing that early emergency deployments were hard on everyone, especially guys with families. The least he could do was get shit ready for them.

Swiping into the secure building, Warren dove into action mode. He got into the locker room.He whipped off his shirt, readying to hit the showers. He needed a fucking cold one—anything to wake the fuck up and rinse off the scent of her. Yeah, he could still taste her in his mouth, something he didn’t want to remember.

The tall mirror hanging over the counter in the locker room reflected his snarling face. Warren ran his fingers up his unshaven jaw, rough and angry.

Turning, he threw down his pants, twisting to grab his belt. The pain in his back soared, unstoppable…unforgiving. He grimaced again, knowing it was the dumbest idea to fuck the shit out of Alisa with a fresh wound, even dumber than deploying with it.

He edged toward the mirror, checking the bandaging job he’d done. His massive back tattoo came into focus, the memorial he’d got to remind him but had tried to forget. A date sprawled across the top was unforgettable—five years ago, almost to the day.

Geoff.

His mind wandered to all the other men he’d lost.

“You’ve damn near lost yourself along the way,” he said.

Or maybe I already have.

Determined, he spun to the showers, willing himself to keep going. If there was one thing he had to do, it was to never stop. He was never ever going to sit with his fucking feelings. He was never going to open up that locked vault.

Not a goddamn thing could make him.

* * * *

Hours prepping for deployment poured by as quick as a cup of coffee. It wasn’t hard for Warren to stay on task once he was in work mode. The boss had said—“shipping out at first light.” They’d gotten an insanely good lead on a prime target and couldn’t waste it.

Once dawn crested, Warren heard more and more guys arriving to deploy. Being a more senior operator, he always was first there, last to leave. That’s how he showed he cared.

Marching out of the building, he assessed the situation on the ground. Kitted up, he’d donned his tactical pants, along with boots and a shirt. He critiqued and questioned what was done and what needed to be done. He personally was ready to rock.

Up ahead, Master Chief Rose popped out of the hangar, urgently motioning for Warren to get closer. The C-17 Globemaster III, strategic transport aircraft, was warming in the distance. Guys in fatigues were already running up the back ramp, adjusting cargo and kit. The tempo was mounting. People were readying. It was going to be a wild one.

He wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Warren felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. As the early beams of morning light hit his face, he noticed that Katy’s mom had sent him a text—responding to what he’d sent her a few hours ago.

You’re deploying now? Katy’s just waking up. Want to have a call?

Sucking in breath and knowing it was going to be damn hard, Warren hit the video call button on his phone. He hated those moments.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he said into the video call, seeing little Katy’s blonde curly hair completely disheveled as she snuggled beside her mom.

“Good morning,” she said, pursing her sleepy mouth.

It killed him already, He could see it in her eyes. Disappointment.

“Are you leaving?” she asked in a tiny voice.

“Yes, for a little while,” he explained, then tried to reassure her. “But I’ll be back. I’ll always come back.”

Her lip quivered, and she started tearing up. “Daddy said that, too.”

Warren felt his throat tightening, seeing Alisa’s face as he left her. He went blank and felt cold. Brooke took the phone from Katy, speaking reassuringly to both of them.

“It’s okay, Katy. He will be back soon,” Brooke said, turning the camera to her. “Warren, we should probably make this one quick.”

“Okay.”

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