Page 14

CHAPTER 14

D eacon tilted his head back, letting his eyes trace the clear sky. For the first time in over two weeks, he could see the soft, endless blue of the heavens. The view felt unfamiliar after so many days of relentless downpour. Beside him, Bandit trudged steadily, mud clinging to his boots as they made their way to the elder’s tent. The thick humidity hung heavy in the air, sticking to their skin like a wet blanket.

Inside the simple bamboo structure, Ralph sat with the village elder, their conversation quiet yet warm. Deacon nodded in acknowledgment, and Bandit stepped forward to translate as Deacon expressed his gratitude.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Deacon said sincerely. “And for providing us with shelter and safety.”

The elder’s lined face softened into a wistful smile. His steady voice was rich with the wisdom of years. Bandit translated almost simultaneously: “It’s good we could help. It’s Christian to help.”

Ralph smiled at the elder, respect evident in his demeanor.

“Let him know Guardian will send payment for our time here to alleviate any hardship,” Deacon said.

Bandit conveyed the message, but the elder shook his head firmly, speaking almost reverently. Bandit continued, “Cap, he says he doesn’t want payment. When he was very young, he was rescued by an American. That man cared for him and ensured he returned to his people. He says the American could have killed him but didn’t. It was a tough time, but the man was kind and fair. He states this is a debt he owed, and now, it is settled.”

Ralph chuckled as he extended his hand. “Thank you for not killing me in the jungle.”

Deacon grasped Ralph’s outstretched hand with a firm grip. “Thank you for being curious enough to investigate the explosion,” Deacon said.

Ralph’s smile became thoughtful. “I believe a higher power brought us together. You can call it whatever you like, but?—”

Deacon clapped Ralph on the shoulder, grinning. “Whether it was fate, a higher power, or sheer coincidence, I’m just grateful you were there. Take care of yourself, Ralph.”

As they exited the tent, the humidity had thickened. Mud clung to their boots as they made their way to the large shelter where the rest of the team waited. It was early, and the air remained muggy despite the fact the sun was only now rising. Deacon slung his pack over his shoulder and turned to address the group.

“We’re heading up over the mountain to the other side. That’s where the landing zone is.”

The team’s gazes followed his upward gesture, landing on the steep granite walls looming above them. The climb promised to be grueling.

Bandit turned to Echo. “Are you good with this?”

She nodded, adjusting the straps of her pack with a small, determined smile. “I might need to rest more than you, but I’ll make it.” She lifted her boot and grinned. “Look, Mom—no blisters.”

Bandit chuckled, nodding approvingly. “All right, but don’t overexert yourself. If you need a break, let us know.”

Deacon slipped an arm around her shoulders, his voice low but firm. “Believe me, I’ll be keeping a close eye on her.”

Ace smirked, his tone light despite the tension in the air as he said, “No one here doubts that, Cap.”

The team chuckled softly as they strapped on their packs. The distant hum of a helicopter spurred them into action. It wasn’t their ride, of that Deacon was sure. More than likely, it was the cartel once again trying to locate the person or people who’d taken the device. The rhythmic thrum grew louder as it combed the jungle canopy below them. With Ranger taking point and Ace on their six, the team disappeared into the dense undergrowth, leaving no trace of their presence in the village.

The jungle was a relentless adversary. The monsoon rains had turned the ground into a swampy mire. Each step became a battle against the sucking mud. The air buzzed with the sounds of life—birds calling, insects chirping—but the steady drone of the helicopter was a grim reminder of their precarious position.

Some time later, Deacon called for a break, his sharp gaze scanning the team before he crouched beside Echo. “How are you holding up?” he asked, his hand resting lightly on her neck.

Echo’s face was flushed, her breaths measured but shallow. She looked up, her resolve clear even through her fatigue. “I’m keeping up. It’s not easy, and I won’t pretend it is, but don’t stop for me. I’ll let you know when I need a break.”

Deacon pressed his forehead against hers, his voice dropping to a reassuring murmur. “I wasn’t stopping just for you. About fifty yards ahead, the jungle breaks, and we’ll be climbing straight up that mountain. Everyone needs to be refreshed before we hit the face—we won’t be able to stop once we start.”

Echo followed his gaze to the granite walls towering above them, their rain-slicked surface glistening like polished glass through the sparse canopy. She swallowed hard. “I’m not a great climber.” Deacon unbuckled his pack and pulled out a length of nylon rope, tying it securely around her waist before attaching the other end to his. “You’re stuck with me now,” she said wryly as she watched him.

“You bet I am,” he replied, his tone steady. Turning to his team, he called, “Next leg’s over the mountain face. Everyone ready?”

Ranger nodded. “Not much cover up there, Cap.”

Deacon nodded grimly. “I know, but the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Let’s hustle.”

The granite provided a welcome respite from the mud, but the rain-slick rocks were no less treacherous. Deacon and Ranger worked together to find foot and handholds, leading the team carefully upward. The helicopter’s drone ebbed and flowed, the sound blending into the jungle’s relentless noise.

As they reached the mountain’s crest, the helicopter lifted rapidly, its blades slicing through the humid air. “Shit,” Deacon muttered. “Take cover.”

Ace snorted. “What fucking cover?” he shot back, but the team quickly crouched behind boulders and rocky outcroppings, making themselves as inconspicuous as possible.

The helicopter hovered for a tense moment before banking sharply and retreating. The team held their positions, muscles taut with tension, waiting for its return. When the drone finally faded, Deacon stood, muttering a low string of curses under his breath.

Echo moved to his side, the slack rope between them pulling taut. “Do you think they saw us?” she asked, her wide eyes scanning their surroundings.

“There was no way they couldn’t have seen us,” Deacon said flatly, his voice a mix of frustration and resolve. He turned to the team. “We’re moving. Two and a half hours to the landing zone and our exfil team.”

Rip’s voice broke the tension. “They’re sending in a team for us?”

Deacon’s lips curved into a rare smile. “Ronan and his men.”

Ace let out a laugh. “That twin thing again, huh? I swear all the medical books say it’s not real, but I’ve seen it too many times to doubt it.”

As they traversed the rain-slick granite at the top of the mountain, the team moved with practiced precision. Every step was deliberate, their boots scraping against the uneven rock face. The air was sharp and cooler that high up, starkly contrasting to the oppressive humidity they’d left behind in the jungle below. Echo walked beside Deacon, her steps careful on the treacherous terrain.

“If I’m slowing you down, let me know,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with concern. “I can move faster if I have to.”

Deacon glanced at her, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile. He held out his hand, and she placed hers in his, her grip firm despite the strain of the climb. “You’re not holding us up,” he reassured her, his voice low but steady. “We’ll reach the landing zone in a little over two hours. If we were spotted, they’ll be waiting for us.”

The weight of his words settled between them as he continued. “Ranger’s on point. He’ll see anything before it happens. Once we hit the canopy, we’ll all check our weapons. I’ll loan you my .45. Your 9mm washed away when you went under.”

Echo’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Think I can handle that big of a weapon after my dip in the flood waters?”

Deacon shook his head, his voice breaking as he remembered what had happened. “I do.”

“What are you thinking about?” she asked quietly.

“When we pulled you out of the water. It hit me hard.” His grip on her hand tightened slightly, a brief but grounding reassurance. “It’s amazing you survived.”

Echo gazed up at him. He wondered if she could see the concern and worry he still felt from that day. He gently squeezed her hand, his thumb gliding over her knuckles. The connection felt like an anchor, grounding him.

Deacon’s gaze softened as he glanced at her again, taking in the determination etched into her expression. Damp from the humidity clinging to the air, her braid rested against her back like a rope. The rugged beauty of the granite peaks framed her profile, the jagged rocks stretching endlessly around them, bathed in the light of a clear sky.

They continued walking, the sound of their boots striking the stone merged with the sounds of the wilderness. The wind gusted across the bare ridge, bringing the faint sound of thunder from the distance and the looming promise of another storm.

Deacon pushed his team hard, balancing the urgency of their mission with Echo’s physical limitations. The oppressive jungle canopy closed in around them, the dense foliage dripping from the lingering monsoon rains. Mud clung to their boots like lead, and every step felt like a battle against the earth. The air was thick with humidity, and the acrid tang of damp vegetation filled their lungs.

“Click, how much longer?” Deacon barked into his comm device, his tone sharp as he checked his watch.

“Ronan and the team just boarded the helicopter,” Click’s voice crackled back. “They’ll be airborne and heading your way in three or four minutes. That gives you thirty-four minutes to reach the landing zone.”

“I copy,” Deacon replied, his eyes flicking to his GPS as they advanced through the muck. “We’ll make it,” he assured him, though the tension in his voice betrayed the stakes.

“It’s only about half a mile from here,” Echo added, her voice steady despite the strain. The reassurance seemed to bolster her resolve, and she quickened her pace.

They pushed forward for another five minutes, the jungle’s relentless sucking muck never easing. Then, Ranger’s hand shot up, a silent signal that froze everyone in their tracks. He dropped to the ground in one fluid motion, and the rest of the team followed suit. Echo mimicked their movements with practiced precision.

“What is it?” Deacon asked, his voice low over the comms.

“Four—no, five hostiles,” Ranger reported, his voice calm and measured. “All armed. They’re heading this way.”

Deacon’s eyes flicked to Echo, calculating. “Can we skirt them?”

Ranger’s voice came through after a pause. “We can try. They’re moving south. We could head northeast.”

“Then let’s try.” Deacon grasped Echo’s hand, pulling her silently through the dense undergrowth. The thick jungle swallowed their movements as they veered north, the team falling into formation behind them.

Once they were deep enough to conceal themselves from the approaching hostiles, Deacon paused. He reached into his vest, pulling out his .45, and handed it to Echo, their eyes meeting briefly. She nodded, her grip firm on the weapon. No words were necessary; she understood the gravity of the situation.

Deacon lifted his M4 to ready position, his senses heightened. The team mirrored his movements, their rifles raised, eyes scanning the dense jungle as they moved northeast. The damp forest floor muffled the sounds of their footsteps, but the tension was electric, each member hyper-aware of their surroundings.

Then, the sharp crack of gunfire shattered the jungle’s oppressive quiet. Instinctively, all six of them dropped to the ground.

“Status!” Deacon demanded, his voice low but urgent.

“Clear,” came the responses, one by one. He glanced at Echo, who nodded quickly, signaling she was unharmed.

“Where the fuck is he?” Deacon muttered, his gaze darting to Ranger. The other man shrugged, his expression taut.

Ace’s voice came through the comms. “Trying to get eyes now, Cap. Hold.” The seconds dragged, every sound amplified in the tense silence—the drip of water from the leaves echoed along with every faint rustle of the jungle floor. Then Ace’s whisper cut through. “I’ve got one in my sights, Cap. Permission to engage?”

“Where are the others?” Deacon asked, unwilling to spark a firefight without knowing the full threat.

There was a long pause before Ace came back. “Two between you and Ranger. Two between Echo and Bandit. Two more between Bandit and Rip. I’ve got mine dead to rights. They’re moving straight for us, walking in a line like they’re herding pigs to slaughter.”

Deacon ground his teeth, his mind racing. “Hold fire until we’re sure we can take them all. They’re going to get close—damn close.”

Bandit gave a thumbs-up from his position, and Rip’s voice came through the comms, laced with grim amusement. “You want me to give ’em a little welcoming surprise?”

“If you can do it without getting us killed, yes,” Deacon replied.

Rip chuckled softly. “Haven’t killed you yet, have I?”

Quiet laughter rippled through the comms, breaking the tension for a heartbeat.

Deacon never stopped scanning the brush, his finger hovering near the trigger. The jungle seemed to press in tighter. The recent rains amplified the thick undergrowth. Every sound—every shift in the foliage—felt magnified. The usual chorus of insects and birds had fallen silent, a sure sign of nearby danger.

A leaf moved, lifting slightly against the breeze. Deacon’s sharp eyes locked onto it, his body coiled like a spring. Raising his rifle, he rested his cheek against the stock, his sights trained on the spot. Seconds later, a man emerged, his rifle slung loosely and pointed skyward as he struggled through the muddy terrain.

“Cap,” Ace’s voice came through, tense and clipped.

“Hold,” Deacon commanded. The man stumbled forward, oblivious to the team lying in wait. One by one, more figures emerged from the undergrowth, their weapons glinting dully in the filtered light.

“Rip, let it go,” Deacon ordered, his voice a deadly whisper.

The explosion ripped through the jungle, the blast tearing apart the forest floor and sending dirt and debris skyward. Cries of confusion and pain erupted as the team sprang into action. Deacon’s rifle snapped up, his finger squeezing the trigger as he fired on a hostile directly in his path.

“Cap! There’s more incoming!” Ace called out. “Shit—they’ve scattered!”

The firefight erupted in earnest, the sharp cracks of gunfire echoing through the jungle. Deacon moved with precision, his team’s movements seamless as they eliminated targets one by one. Then, beneath the chaos, he felt it—a low rumble beneath his boots.

“Echo,” he barked, turning toward her. Her wide eyes met his. She dropped to her knees and put her hand flat against the trembling ground. The noise grew, a deep, rolling thunder that wasn’t from the sky.

“Holy shit!” Deacon shouted. “It’s a fucking landslide! Move—north, now!”

Grabbing Echo’s hand, he hauled her to her feet, dragging her through the jungle as the ground behind them gave way. Trees snapped like matchsticks, the roar of the landslide deafening as it tore down the mountainside and obliterated everything in its path.

They ran until Echo couldn’t anymore. Deacon let go of her hand and turned to look back. The earth continued to shift, the mudflow carving a brutal, destructive path down the mountain.

Deacon crouched low in the undergrowth, signaling his team to do the same. The thick foliage provided minimal cover, but they used what they had. The tension was palpable, the sounds of destruction still echoing through the jungle.

“Damn it, Rip, you blew up the fucking mountain,” Ace groaned, his weapon up and his eyes scanning the direction they’d come from.

“How was I supposed to know the son of a bitch would slide down on our landing zone?” Rip shot back, his voice a sharp whisper.

“Quiet.” Deacon’s tone cut through their bickering like a blade. He tapped his comm device. “Click, alternate landing zone.”

“I’ve got two options. I can’t see you under the canopy. Where are you?” Click’s South Boston accent boomed through the comms.

Deacon pulled out his GPS and gave Click their exact coordinates.

“Okay, yeah, to your south, you—” Click started, but Deacon cut him off.

“No. There’s been a landslide to the south. North and east are clear of hostiles.”

“Okay, okay, hold on,” Click replied, the sound of furious typing in the background. The jungle around them was eerily silent, the usual cacophony of birds and insects replaced by the oppressive weight of their situation.

“Got it,” Click finally said, spitting out new coordinates. Deacon entered them into his GPS, the glow from the screen illuminating his hardened features as he oriented himself to the new landing zone.

“Let’s go,” he ordered. “I’ve got point. Ranger, you take care of Echo.”

“Echo can take care of herself,” she said from beside him, her voice steady but quiet. “But I’ll listen to what he says.”

Deacon’s gaze lingered on hers for a moment longer than it should have. She nodded, her expression firm. “I know,” she said softly.

Deacon blinked, surprised by her words. Did she know how much she’d come to mean to him? He hoped so.

“Let’s move,” he said, shaking off the thought.

The team moved in formation, staying low as they navigated the treacherous terrain. Rain-soaked mud pits and gnarled roots were everywhere, but Deacon expertly guided them around the worst obstacles. The oppressive humidity clung to their skin, and the faint smell of sulfur lingered in the air from the earlier firefight.

“Almost there,” Deacon said, glancing at his GPS. “Click, where’s that chopper?”

“Four minutes out,” Click responded.

Deacon held up a fist, halting the team as they neared the clearing where the helicopter was scheduled to land. He scanned the area, his eyes narrowing. “What’s up?” Ranger asked quietly from behind him.

“The shadow over there by the rock outcropping,” Deacon murmured, pointing with his rifle. “It wasn’t there the first time I looked.”

The team’s eyes shifted to the rock formation, weapons raised. “I see him. Fucker,” Bandit swore, his voice low.

Echo touched Deacon’s shoulder and motioned to his left. “There,” she whispered. He shifted his gaze and saw what she had—a figure crouched among the brush. A quick scan revealed another hostile ten yards down.

“Three,” Deacon muttered under his breath. “Probably more.”

They’d be shredded if they tried to board the helicopter now. Even the chopper itself would be a sitting duck.

“Yo, D. Where the hell are you, and what the fuck happened to the mountain?” Ronan’s voice broke through the comms, a godsend.

“We’re on the south side of the landing zone. Bogies on the north side,” Deacon reported, his tone grim. “Don’t bring that chopper out here; you’ll be a lead balloon.”

“Oh, you of little faith.” Ronan laughed. “Hit it, man!”

“What are you?—”

The deafening roar of a helicopter split the air as it skimmed the canopy, its skids brushing the tops of the trees. The unmistakable whine of the M61 20mm rotary cannon engaged, and the jungle on the north side of the clearing was torn apart in a hail of gunfire. Trees exploded, and the underbrush was reduced to splinters as the helicopter strafed the area. The chopper then pulled up sharply, out of range of any retaliatory fire.

A second helicopter followed, cutting low over the canopy. “Ronan, on your six!” Deacon shouted, spotting the cartel’s helicopter giving chase.

“Copy,” Ronan replied, his voice calm despite the chaos.

“Cap! Incoming. To the south. I see three,” Ace’s warning came through, cutting into Deacon’s focus.

“Down!” Deacon hissed, grabbing Echo’s arm and dropping with her to the ground. She crawled behind a small stack of rocks, cradling her .45 as she lay prone. Deacon moved left, his team fanning out and taking up firing positions.

The high-pitched whine of the mini cannon faded into the background as gunfire erupted. The hostiles had learned from their earlier mistake, advancing in a staggered pattern rather than a straight line. The firefight was brutal. Deacon rolled right, narrowly avoiding a bullet that struck the mud where he’d just been.

Above them, the cartel’s helicopter spun out of control, smoke billowing from its tail. “Fuck! Move!” Deacon shouted, his voice cutting through the gunfire.

The damaged aircraft spiraled downward, heading straight for their position. Echo rolled and sprinted to the right, firing as she moved. Deacon covered her, his rifle snapping off precise shots. He dropped one hostile who had taken a knee thirty meters away. The man would never fire another shot.

The helicopter clipped the canopy, tearing through the jungle like a machete before slamming into the ground. The explosion was deafening, a fireball consuming everything in its path as debris and flames rained down.

“Get out in the field!” Ronan’s voice came through the comms as his chopper circled back, hovering over the far side of the clearing. “I’m going to clear out that side of the jungle.”

Deacon grabbed Echo, and the team sprinted into the open. “Clear!” he shouted as soon as everyone was exposed. The high-pitched scream of the rotary cannon firing two thousand to six thousand rounds per minute was music to his ears as it decimated what remained of the cartel’s forces.

The whine of the helicopter’s machine gun suddenly stopped, replaced by the low thrum of its blades as it hovered, gunners scanning for any signs of hostile forces. The team crouched low, weapons ready, breaths controlled. Finally, the helicopter lowered, and Deacon gave the signal.

His team moved in sync, crouching low as they sprinted through the undergrowth toward the aircraft. Echo’s hand was firmly in his, her grip steady, but her pace faltered as they reached the open field. Deacon didn’t hesitate. When she stumbled, he not-so-graciously boosted her into the helicopter. She twisted around, frowning at him, her lips moving in words he couldn’t hear over the roar of the rotors.

Deacon climbed in after her, securing the door behind him, and pulled her onto his lap to make room. She spun around, her eyes narrowing. Even without hearing her, he knew she wasn’t thrilled about the “booty boost.” He winked at her, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. She rolled her eyes, but a small smirk betrayed her amusement as she leaned back against him.

Once they were secured, Wraith passed out headsets, the bulky devices muffling the thunderous roar of the helicopter. Almost immediately, Click’s familiar voice crackled over the helicopter’s comms. “I’ve got you on satellite, finally. No further aircraft in the area. You’re clear back to South Vietnam.”

The pilot confirmed the information. His tone clipped and professional. “All six accounted for,” he added.

Click chuckled dryly. “Yeah, I saw their heat signatures. I didn’t figure one of the hostiles would sneak on board. Cap, Alpha wants you to call as soon as you’re in a private location—and before you talk to the CIA.”

Deacon frowned, his brow furrowing. “Copy that.”

Echo glanced at him questioningly, but he shook his head. “No idea.”

Across the cabin, Ronan, seated at one of the gunner stations, turned around and lifted his dark visor. “We should do this more often,” he joked, a grin spreading. “Seems like we get to play with all the big toys when we do.”

Wraith’s voice chimed in over the comms, dry and sardonic. “No, thank you.”

The team chuckled, the tension in the cabin easing slightly. Echo turned to Deacon, her confusion evident. He smiled. “I’ll explain later.”

Ronan interjected, “Not unless I’m there. Seems whenever you tell the story about Syria, you leave out most of what my team did.”

Deacon laughed, shaking his head. “And I’m sure when you tell this story, you’ll conveniently forget most of what we did.”

“You’re damn right,” Ronan shot back with a grin. “You’re lucky the rain stopped when it did. We intercepted cartel comms—they were bringing in more men and equipment to search for you.”

Deacon’s smile faded. “So, they knew we hadn’t left the jungle.”

Juggernaut, Ronan’s man, grunted. “With those rains and your timing, extraction wasn’t exactly on the table.”

Echo leaned forward, her voice cutting through the chatter. “Since Deacon hasn’t bothered to introduce me, my name’s Echo.” Her teasing tone drew raised brows and amused smirks from the men. “Yes, hippie parents. Long story,” she added with a dismissive wave. “I work for the CIA—though, honestly, the future there isn’t looking great. Thanks for the assist. Things were getting a little too hot for this office worker.”

Wraith snorted, his grin widening. “Office workers are soft.”

Ronan’s team burst into laughter, and Echo turned to Deacon, her brow raised in question. He shrugged. “I might’ve mentioned that Ronan’s about to take a desk job at headquarters. Sounds to me like his team’s giving him some shit about it.”

“Just a little bit,” Stryker chimed in, grinning.

Deacon introduced the rest of Ronan’s team, pointing to each man in turn. “Let me introduce you. That’s Ronan, my twin brother, obviously. Over there is Juggernaut—Jug for short—and Stryker. Wraith is over there by Ranger. And him?” He gestured toward the new face in the crowd. “I have no clue who the FNG is.”

Echo gasped, turning to him. “You did not just call him the fucking new guy to his face!” She glared at Deacon before turning and smiling apologetically at the man. “I’m so sorry. Normally, he’s a decent human being.”

“Bullshit.” Ronan coughed and both teams laughed.

The man chuckled and waved her off. “It’s a rite of passage. I’m Hammer. Temporary fill-in. Wolf’ll be back soon.”

Deacon explained further when the helicopter fell silent. “Wolf was injured during the Syria mission. Traumatic brain injury. He’s going through rehab.”

Ronan’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “It’s slow, but he’s not giving up, and neither are we.”

Hammer added, “That’s why I’m here. Wolf’ll get back to fighting form. When he does, this is his team—not mine.”

Deacon appreciated Hammer’s integrity. Although he knew this team wasn’t his permanent placement, his professionalism and dedication would enhance any team he was part of.

The pilot’s voice broke over the comms. “We’re over South Vietnam airspace. Five minutes to the helipad. There’s an ambulance waiting as you requested.”

Echo turned to Deacon, frowning. “Who’s the ambulance for?”

Deacon lifted a brow, staring at her. “You.”

“I don’t need an ambulance! I’m fine!”

“Two weeks ago, you drowned. You died. You’re going to the hospital.”

She crossed her arms, scowling. “Since when did you become my boss?”

The men in the cabin found sudden interest in anything but the argument. If they could’ve walked off the helicopter mid-air, Deacon was sure they would have.

He leaned closer. “I’m not your boss, but I am your significant other. I want to make sure there’s no lingering infection or damage from the CPR. You can’t argue with that.”

She narrowed her eyes but relented with a shrug. “Significant other, huh? I guess that’s better than boyfriend, isn’t it, Sparky?”

Ronan’s laughter erupted across the comms. “Sparky? Oh, please tell me where that came from.”

Before Echo could answer, Deacon clapped his hand over her mouth. “No. We’re not discussing that. Are we?” He tilted her face toward him, narrowing his eyes.

She slowly shook her head, eyes alight with amusement. Sighing, he slowly released her.

As soon as he did, she grinned. “Don’t worry, Sparky. That’ll remain between us.”

Ronan groaned. “That’s not fair. I need to know!”

Echo shook her head, leaning into Deacon’s chest as he wrapped his arms around her. A few minutes later, Deacon glanced at Ronan. His brother met his gaze and gave a wink and thumbs-up.

Deacon tightened his hold on Echo. Yeah, he was in love. And wasn’t that a fucking revelation? Now, the question was, what the hell was he going to do about it?

They landed, and Deacon grabbed Ronan in a hug. “You’ll be at the hotel tonight?”

“Damn straight. We’ll talk then. Go take care of her.” Ronan slapped him on the back and smiled. “That bug has bitten you, hasn’t it?”

Deacon glanced back at Echo, who was talking to Ranger and Wraith. Well, Ranger. Wraith just nodded occasionally. “Hard and right on the ass.”

Ronan laughed and put his hands on his hips. “Don’t fuck this up.”

“Excuse me? Fuck it up?” As if. Well, he’d try not to. The only thing was he had no idea how to proceed, but that should be kind of natural, right?

“Yeah, fuck it up. You’re not used to being in love.”

“Oh, and now, you’re the expert in the field?” Deacon crossed his arms over his chest.

Ronan smiled. “Nope, but Dad is.”

Deacon blinked. Dad? What? “Huh?”

“Dad’s here, in country.”

Deacon’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Why?”

“They were in Seoul when they heard I was coming over to pull your asses out of the jungle. Depending on how you two feel, they want to have dinner tonight or tomorrow night.”

He glanced down at the uniform he’d worn for the past two weeks. “Tonight is fine, I guess. Dude, you’re going to need to pull a miracle out of your ass and get Echo and me some decent clothes.”

“Too late. Mom already took care of that. She said she remembers all too well when Dad came out of the field. I think Con got Echo’s sizes for Mom. I'm not sure how that happened, but hopefully, she won’t mind whatever deep dive he did to find out the information.”

“I hope not.” Maybe that topic wouldn’t come up. Hell, who was he kidding? She’d ask. Her mind was one of the hottest things about her. Not the hottest, but … it was sexy as fuck.

“So, seriously, on the level … is she the one?” Ronan asked him the question he’d been asking himself since the night he’d met her. Hell, was it only just over two weeks ago? God, they’d lived a lifetime in those few days, hadn’t they? He nodded. The words weren’t there to share what she meant to him, but Ronan got it. He understood. “Do me a favor and ask Mom not to be too …”

“Snoopy? Interested? Herself?” Ronan offered.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen, is it?”

“Not in our lifetime,” Ronan agreed. “Ah, it looks like the ambulance finally got through the traffic jam.” Ronan nodded toward the flightline gate, where the ambulance wound through the protective barriers after being screened at the gate.

“Good. I’ll see you at the hotel.”

“Good luck at the doctors.” Ronan turned with him to walk over to where Echo was standing with his and Ronan’s team. She glanced up at him and then over at the ambulance. She scrunched her nose and made a face, which made all the guys around her laugh. She couldn’t fit into his life any better.

He escorted Echo into the hospital and found that Click had apparently arranged shower facilities for them. He made a mental note to make sure the guy got a raise. Whatever Guardian was paying him wasn’t enough.

After making sure Echo was good to go in her shower area, he hit his comms. “Click, patch me through to Alpha. I’m alone, but I can be overheard.”

“I copy. Standby.”

Deacon started stripping and was turning on the water when Alpha came on line. “Am I interrupting something?” Jacob King’s laughter was unmistakable.

“Nope, you’re joining me for a shower that is over two weeks past due.” He stepped under the water and realized the small stall only held a portion of him. “God, what I wouldn’t give to be back in my shower,” he mumbled as he grabbed the small slice of antiseptic soap and unwrapped it.

“Give me a rundown.”

Deacon glanced at the locked door. “I’m not secure. Sequestered, but not secure.”

“Then use a broad brush.”

Meaning don’t get specific but give him a rundown: “We obtained the required equipment and got that out.”

“That much I know,” Jacob said with a slow drawl.

“Fine, sorry for the recap. The CIA specialist was swept away in a flash flood. A wall of water came out of nowhere and swept her under. It took a couple of minutes before we located her.”

“I heard from Click that your team resuscitated her.”

“Yeah. Bandit knows his shit.” Deacon lathered up as he spoke. “She was pretty pitiful for a couple of weeks but never complained. Not once.”

“Sounds like our type of people,” Jacob noted.

“Damn straight. When the weather finally broke, we left the village that had sheltered us and went over the top of the mountain.”

“Bold move,” Jacob murmured. “How did the officer handle it?”

“Like a fucking trooper.” Which she had. “However, the people we acquired our equipment from were looking for us—a helicopter. The pilot was insane, flying in weather we would not lift off in. We were at the mountain’s crest when we believed he saw us. Some of his acquaintances were waiting with a welcome wagon. We tried to reciprocate the welcome with a small fireworks display, and then the mountain broke in half and slid down on top of the jungle.”

Jacob chuckled. “I can’t wait to read this report.”

Deacon kept going. “We diverted to another pickup point but were again met with the welcome wagon. It was at that time Panther team arrived. The rest is, as they say, history.”

“Panther team?” Jacob’s surprise was not what he expected.

“Ah … yeah? Why? Didn’t you know they were here?”

“They’re supposed to be on R&R.” Jacob’s tone was stern.

“So, maybe they were just having some fun?” Deacon scrubbed the small slice of soap through his hair. “Besides, we were pretty well wedged between a rock and a hard place. We would’ve lost people, there’s no doubt about it.” Especially since Echo was tapped out. She was a warrior, but her cardio was at its max. He wouldn’t leave her, and his team wouldn’t have left him. Yeah, some bad shit could have happened if Ronan hadn’t arrived when he did.

There was a long silence. Deacon didn’t interrupt Jacob’s digestion of the information, but he did wash his hair again. Fuck, the hot water was great, but bending damn near to his belly button to wash out the soap sucked.

“I’ll talk with Jason about the lack of coordination. That won’t happen again for either of you.”

Deacon spoke upside down, water streaming down his face. “Who was supposed to show up for the assist?”

“Dagger and Viper teams are on call in the area. I assigned Viper team.” Deacon heard Jacob typing. “And I just sent a message to Jewell to find out who canceled the order.”

“That sounds like an internal issue. Glad I’m not in your chair.”

“Your brother will be eventually. Hell, you both could share the responsibility. Lord knows with the teams we have across the globe, two of you are needed.”

“I like being in the field, Uncle Jacob.”

“And your CIA officer? Does she like you being in the field?”

Deacon straightened, hitting his head on the shower head. “Damn it, that hurt.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Why did you ask about Echo?”

“Deacon, I’m not a fool. I’ve seen the transcripts from your mission, and I can put two and two together to the point that they actually total four.”

“Why the hell did you pull our transcripts?” Deacon turned off the water. “My team expects their communications to be private. Shit is said that doesn’t need to be up-channeled.”

“True, that’s why we only do quarterly audits. We’ll never have another Charlie Team situation. The original team, I mean. It imploded when Guardian first started.”

“That happened a lifetime ago, Uncle Jacob.”

“People would still be alive if there were checks and balances. We do audits not to invade your privacy but to ensure no team is going rogue. No one knows except management and, now, you. Besides, your mission was randomly selected. I was just glazing over it when I noticed some interesting conversations … Sparky.”

Deacon dropped his head. “Shit.” Jacob’s laughter dug into his embarrassment. “We met the night before the assignment. Neither one of us knew who each other was.”

“We’ve verified that. I also pulled her clearance paperwork to track down any loose ends and completed a background check on her. There were no loose ends, and she passed the check with flying colors. She’s good to go if you were considering bringing her into the organization.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if things are at that point. She plans on resigning from her current employment but doesn’t know what to do with her future. I’m not going to push her one way or the other.”

“Hmmm … she does what exactly?”

Deacon chuffed a laugh as he pulled on the scrubs. “Honestly, I have no clue. It involves IT. She mentioned nanotechnology once, but I didn’t delve any deeper. Other things were more important at the time. Whatever she does, she’s damn good at it, and her employer has been ignoring her warnings about their shortcomings in redundancy.”

“I’ll check into that. You know we’re always looking for quality people.”

“I do, but as I said, she wants to take time off.”

“Got it. Still, I’ll provide you with information should she feel inclined to work with us.”

“I appreciate that, Uncle Jacob.” He glanced down at his scrub pants. “Shit, the scrubs they gave me are at least a foot too short.” He pulled the tie as tight as it would go at the waist. Hopefully, they wouldn’t fall off his ass as he walked through the hall of the hospital.

“Easy fix. Shove them in the top of your boots,” Jacob offered. “Not many doctors over there as tall as you.”

Deacon put on the hospital socks and shoved his feet into the boots. “Hey, what do you know, that works.”

“Would I ever give you bad advice?”

“Nope.” Deacon laughed. “Unless it’s about horses. Then, yes. Definitely, yes.”

Jacob laughed. “Okay, it isn’t my fault you weren’t a good enough rider to handle Whiskey.”

“Whiskey was an unbroke gelding that Uncle Frank had bought from rodeo stock. He was rank.”

Jacob laughed. “But you stayed with him.”

“Until I landed on my ass.”

“True.” The man laughed. “Good times.”

“For you.” Deacon couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “Did you know Mom and Dad are here?”

“No,” Jacob said truthfully. “They don’t check in with me. Tell them I said hey and that Frank and Amanda miss them.”

“Will do. Oh, and, Uncle Jacob, Ronan and his team saved our asses. I won’t tell him that, but we would’ve been in a bad spot had he not shown up with that M61 20mm rotary cannon and bolted it on that chopper.”

“And now I know why that requisition is on my desk.” Jacob sighed. “At least he fucking asked for it. He didn’t wait for permission, but he asked for it.”

“It was needed.” Deacon shrugged on his shirt. Damn, if he flexed his arms, he’d split the seam. “I need to get back to Echo. Is there anything else?”

“No. Just get me the full details of the operation as soon as possible. Please add any details in the outbrief you think I should be aware of. You and your team will return with Ronan and his team for R&R the day after tomorrow. I’ll get Click to start your transportation plan.”

“Thank you. Take care of yourself, Uncle Jacob.”

“Will do. Say, have you seen all of Panther team?”

Deacon chuckled. “Yep. Wraith is doing great. He and Ranger were hanging out.” Of the helicopter, but Deacon didn’t figure Wraith’s dad needed to know that.

“Thanks,” Jacob said simply. “Alpha’s clear.”

Deacon patted the pockets of his filthy uniform to ensure nothing was left, pocketed his wallet and cell phone, and tossed the grimy fabric into the garbage bin in the room. He tugged at his shirt with little effect. “Whatever.” He opened the door and walked to the small examination room where Echo was using the attached bathroom to shower. He attracted a lot of looks from the staff and people in the hallway. Yeah, I’d look, too . He chuckled and opened the door, making his way to the small bathroom. He’d only been away briefly but needed to check on her to see if she was okay or needed anything. The desire to protect her from anything and everything was intensely ingrained into his psyche. The feeling was stronger and more intense than any attraction he'd experienced. What he felt for Echo was unique and, if he were honest, a bit scary.