Page 53 of No More Secrets
“Your poor mother. It’s a wonder any of you survived.”
“Farm raised kids are tough.”
“Are you saying city kids aren’t?” Eyes still closed, she pinched him.
“I would never insinuate such a thing,” he teased.
“Good because I would have to hail a cab and run your fine ass over,” she yawned. And on that threat, his sweet Summer fell asleep.
Carter let his thoughts drift. He had told her more than he intended to about his experiences. The PTSD and recovery weren’t secrets, but he wasn’t usually so open about them. After having dragged his still-grieving family with him through a rocky recovery, it was nice to let the past stay the past.
Wounded didn’t have to mean broken.
He had moved forward, grateful for the support of his family and community. It had been a battle, just as much as the ones he fought with his men. But, as in war, he learned that there was strength in numbers.
After a few empty flings when he came home, Carter had made the conscious decision to give up on the meaningless and focus on meaning. He redoubled his efforts on the farm and gave Phoebe the confidence in him to move into her own place. It was a gift to them both. A new start, a new hope for the future.
And now his family was back together — for as long as Jax deemed fit — the farm was humming along, and he had Summer wrapped around him. This was no fling. This was the beginning of something special. If she wanted it to be. He wanted what his parents had shared. A partnership, a friendship, and something so much more. He could see having it with her.
Carter drifted with the memories of his parents until the scene in his head changed to one of gray and dirt. Of huts and cold.
He clutched his M16 and held up his left hand in a fist. The men behind him halted.
“It’s clear,” came the dispassionate voice of his second in command in his ear.
He signaled his men forward, advancing toward the adobe walls of the complex looming in front of them in the darkness.
“Hold,” Hawkeye’s voice warned him.
Carter and his men flattened themselves onto the ground. “Got eyes on two guards on top of the wall.”
“Take the shot,” Carter ordered, his breath puffing out in a silvery cloud.
Even with the silencer, his well-trained ears caught the sound of bullets striking their targets.
“Clear,” Hawkeye said calmly. Just another day in Afghanistan.
Carter’s team silently pressed forward to the walls. They secured two ropes to the top and scaled the wall in silence. Carter was the last up and the first to move forward. Scanning the courtyard below, he spotted another guard. He signaled to the man on his right, Hector “Ninja” Ramirez. Ninja moved down the wooden stairs like a wraith. Sticking to the shadows, the guard never saw him coming. He collapsed into the darkness of death.
With the courtyard clear, Carter moved his team forward toward the small mud building on the right. According to their intel, the target was still inside and his gut agreed.
He signaled to the two men on his left. They broke formation and moved to the door of the other building. They would take both buildings simultaneously.
He felt the adrenaline surge through his system, knew his men felt the same. It was always the same, no matter how many doors they breached, no matter how many buildings they cleared. There was always danger.
Carter gave the signal and both doors were smashed down within the span of a heartbeat. He was over the threshold, gun up and ready, before the wood had hit the ground. A quick sweep of the dim room and he was moving to the back room. “Front clear,” he announced and heard Paul give the same report from next door.
The flimsy door was locked, but a well-placed boot had it bouncing off its hinges.
“Weapons down,” he shouted in Pashto. He sensed Ninja on his side. Laser sights focused on the foreheads of the two men in robes clutching semi-automatic pistols. Their beards were long and unkempt. “Put your weapons down, now,” he said, switching to Uzbek.
He heard the cry, a terrified wail and shifted his sights to the corner. A little girl, no more than six or seven cowered on the floor.
“Get the girl,” Carter ordered Ninja.
The shot that rang out had Carter’s heart stopping as the little girl’s wails ceased instantaneously. The only sound that remained was the horrible, wheezing laughter.
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