Page 36 of Delta Mission
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
With Ghost, Blade, and Cobra leaning out the sides of the helicopter, all with their weapons ready, Wasp did four flights over the top of Amir Momahhadakan village before Blade declared it was safe enough for us to land.
The rotors kicked up a swarm of dust as we lowered onto the dirt track that we’d driven into the village. We all jumped out, and with the Australians in a diamond formation around me, I led them toward the charred Humvee. I sighed with relief that Trent’s body was still there.
Trying to smother my emotions at seeing him again, I squatted at his side and placed my hand on his chest. “Trent had been minutes from getting onto a flight home when Lyle made him come on this operation.”
“Poor bastard,” Wasp said.
Ghost rested her hand on my shoulder, but she didn’t say anything. No words could convey the emotions crashing through us anyway.
“Where’s your other man?” Blade asked.
I pointed toward the women’s shelter. “This way.”
Lyle was where we’d left him, and his bloody body was as shocking now as it had been when it happened.
“His throat was cut?” Ghost frowned at me.
I told them about the woman who’d killed him.
“Jesus. You can’t trust anyone in this place.” She shook her head.
“The worst part is she got away.”
“Hey, you can’t blame yourself.” Ghost squeezed my arm.
“That’s right,” Blade said. “We all know what we’re getting ourselves into when we come to these shitholes.”
I turned to the rope ladder bunched on the floor beside the trapdoor. “There’s a massive drug lab down there.”
“Sneaky bastards.” Blade scowled. “From what the rest of your team told us, you guys got lucky.”
Channing nodded at me. “Yep. Nine lives.”
“Let’s get going.” Blade grabbed Lyle’s feet, and Channing took his shoulders.
As they carried Lyle’s body out of the shelter, Cobra and Wasp lifted Trent’s body from the dirt.
A brick was on my chest as Ghost and I followed behind them.
We reached the chopper, and they had to shift equipment around to get the bodies in.
“You dislocated your finger. Let me see.” Ghost scooped my hand in hers.
The gaffer tape didn’t hide the hideous angle of my little finger.
“It’s nothing,” I said, lowering my gaze to Lyle’s bloody body.
“Want me to fix it?” Ghost swept her incredible eyes to me.
I frowned. “You can do that?”
“Qualified army medic.” She smiled.
“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll wait—”
