Page 34 of The Soldier

“Okay. You’ll go out with the Delta Force team, with backup from our Rangers. Briefing is at fourteen hundred where I’ll brief them on what they need to know.”

Nothing more.

I’m not surprised to hear Delta Force is here. Whether they are supporting my mission entirely or have their own focus while we cross the desert isn’t clear. My security clearance has been reinstated for this mission, but I won’t be told everything.

My job is to get in, take the hit, and get home for a beer.

And claim my sexy little wolf.

That’s my plan.

“What else do you need?” The colonel asks.

“A shower. Bed. Food.” I run a hand over my now soaked hair as he nods with a smile. “I’ve been flying for hours so some horizontal time before we head out would be appreciated.”

We both know I could be here for a couple of days and it’s wise to take every minute of rest you can before heading out on a mission.

I know my fitness is good, but I’m a little out of practice when it comes to surviving in the desert.

Then again, maybe it’s like riding a bike.

“Smart. You might not be home until after the weekend.” He drops down into his chair. “Some of the routes have been destroyed. Delta will get you in and out safe.”

Damn. I knew that was a possibility after all the fighting over the years, but was hoping there had been some repairs or new paths created.

As if it’s downtown Miami or LA.

This is Kuwait.

“Getting home is the goal.” I grin as I reach for my duffel.

He doesn’t return it. There’s a seriousness to him that speaks to the weight on his shoulders every day, keeping his men alive.

“Private Mahoney will take you to the barracks. The chow hall is next door. You might make lunch if you hurry. We’ll see you in a few hours.”

With a quick “thank you sir,” I push through the tin door and as predicted, find Mahoney waiting.

“Lead the way, Private.”

I’m interested to see if I know any of the Delta Force guys. I wasn’t the only Tier Two Operator invited to join the Tier One team last year; some of my buddies might be here. Of course, none of them would be able to tell me if they were in the team that doesn’t technically exist.

It's a bit confusing given they show up for ops.

Not for us. We know. But it’s not like anyone is adding it as a life event on their fucking Facebook page.

“Through here, sir.” Mahoney says, as we head into one of the barracks.

It looks like all the others in the desert. Drab. I’m not in Hollywood now.

The moment I stepped onto the military plane to leave the United States my personality did a shift. Back to the one I was trained to be.

Nicknamed thequiet professionals,Special Forces —or Green Berets—are less showy than some of the others. We’re as highly trained as SEALs and Marines but with a few additional skills.

One of them being foreign languages.

If I’d had time, I would’ve grown out my beard and roughened up a little. It won’t be necessary. In black tactical gear I’ll accompany these men and women, then single off with one or two of the Delta team, and when I identify the target, I’ll take the shot.

Poof.

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