Page 21

CHAPTER 21

CARSON

The hammock I strung up on the plane swung gently. Usually, I had no issue sleeping. I could power down anywhere and everywhere, but not today. All I could think about was the conversation I had with Brock and then with Roman and Margot.

“Happy birthday, Carson.”

I glanced over at Foster. He held out a cupcake. The look on his face cracked me up.

He shoved the pastry at me and said, “Julie and the kids insisted.”

“Tell them thank you.”

“I will. Between you and me, I’m more pissed we’re going to miss the brisket I was making than the cupcakes.”

“Oh fuck. I love your brisket. Did you have to rub salt in the wound?”

“It was the thought that counts, I guess. So, what are you doing awake?”

“It’s been a day.”

Foster chuckled. “Birthdays are like that. If I’m not spun up or deployed, then one of the kids is sick, or my mother shows up. Or worse, my mother-in-law.”

“My mom calls me like clockwork at 0530 on the nose every year and sings to me. I love the woman, but she shouldn’t ever be allowed to sing anything to anyone. And I mean ever.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you ready for OCS?”

“I don’t know. At times I feel ready, and at times I don’t. I always thought I’d go Warrant…” I said with a shrug.

“You do want to be commissioned, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yeah. I just figured I had a few more years…” I trailed off.

“Quit doubtin’ yourself. You’re a damn fine operator, a natural leader, and smart as fuck. I wouldn’t have recommended you for the spot if I didn’t have every confidence in your ability to make it through training and to do the job.”

I nodded. I didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with me. Until Adam got captured and Roman showed back up in my life, I was cocky and confident. Now I felt unsure and confused all the fucking time.

“Are you okay?”

My head bounced several times of its own volition. Motherfucker! What was I, a fucking bobblehead?

“Are you sure?”

I fought to keep from nodding again.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

“Alright, I’m going to catch some sleep. You should do the same.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Good.”

He walked away, and I watched him go. I wanted to talk to someone, but I couldn’t talk to the team. At least not any more than I had. My parents and brothers had no clue what my life was like, and I scared them enough at Thanksgiving.

There was no one.

Roman’s face flashed before my eyes, and I sighed. Was our relationship a friendship at that point?

I shook my head and closed my eyes, but they popped open as if they were on springs. We were charging into a firefight, and I couldn’t shut down. I got up and headed toward one of the support personnel.

“Can I get you something, Wilcox?” Petty Officer Jannell asked.

“Something to knock my ass out would be nice.”

His brow furrowed. “You okay?” he asked.

“Keyed up, that’s all.”

“Let me get you some Ambien. I can also get you some headphones or earplugs?”

“The headphones would be great.”

He gathered up the pills and headphones and handed them over. I tossed the pills down my throat, swallowing them dry before heading back to my hammock.

Even with the meds and the noise-canceling headphones, I struggled to settle down so much that when I dropped off to sleep, it was restless, and I woke up multiple times throughout the flight. Finally, I gave up and grabbed my pack, pulling out the book I’d been reading since Christmas.

Clauswitz’s book, On War , showed up in my cage over the holiday. I didn’t know who left it there, but it fell in line with what I usually read. It was also on the recommended reading list for OCS. So, I packed it when I grabbed my gear for this op.

Hours later, I’d moved from the hammock to a bench. I pulled pen and paper out, taking notes as I read. A few pages in, I realized who gave me the book because it was a hand-me-down, and I would recognize Foster’s handwriting anywhere. Not that I could read most of it. The man’s penmanship was atrocious.

“I see you got the book, but you’re not using it right.”

I looked up at him. And with a what the fuck look on my face, I’m sure.

“My grandfather received that book upon going to OCS and subsequently passed it to my father, who gave it to my brother Walker, who then gave it to me. Parker wasn’t a reader nor the sentimental type. He was determined to do it all on his own. So, I kept it, and now, I’m passing it on to you. The notes, if you ain’t noticed, are to be written in the margins. Not on paper.”

“I didn’t want to mess anything up.”

“You won’t. It’s a foundation. One block of thought and insight built on the one that came before. When you pass that on to the next person, you don’t want to rob them of your contributions.”

“It’s a family heirloom. You don’t think you’ll need it for any of your kids?”

“Yeah, maybe, and if so, you’ll hand it on to them when the time comes.”

I glanced down at the book and all the notes. “I’ll get them added. And thanks, Lieutenant.”

“Listen up!” Commander Mercer yelled, his voice bouncing off the metal walls of the plane.

I shoved the book and my notes into my pack and followed everyone over to where Mercer stood. He looked around at all of us, then said, “I’ve got two announcements. One isn’t that much of a surprise. The 2IC position is running through operators like water through a sieve. Adam and Brock are both still out, and now Carson is headed off to OCS, which means Finlay will step into the 2IC position for a bit.”

“God fecking, dammit!” Finlay yelled and stomped off while most of us laughed. He was a door kicker through and through. No ambition to be anything more. I, and everyone else, knew Finlay could and would do a good job. He just didn’t want the responsibility.

“Lord, help us all,” Mercer said with a shake of his head as he watched Finlay stalk off. Then he continued. “As for the next announcement… the captain’s list came out, and Foster Holt’s name finally popped up on the damn thing.”

Foster got his back and shoulders beat by the well-wishers while he tried to cover his astonishment. Like me, Foster took the long, hard road to OCS, and you could tell he was flabbergasted at the promotion.

Mercer pulled some patches from the pockets of his uniform pants and waved Foster to him with them. Foster approached, and Mercer said, “Julie will officially pin you when we return home, but I wanted you to know as soon as it was announced.”

Mercer pulled the rank patches off Foster’s uniform and replaced them with new ones. “Congratulations, Captain Holt.”

“Alright, now that the fun stuff’s handled, it’s time for business,” Daniel Lennox, the CIA agent embedded with our team, said.

He pulled up some shit on his laptop and started going through all the intel and details of the op. The target was held up in the middle of a village.

“We need this guy alive.”

My brows climbed my forehead, but before I could voice my opinion, Foster said, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ shittin’ me? That motherfucking buildin’ is in the middle of a viper’s nest filled with ISIS, and you want us to march our happy asses into that fuckin’ shit show? And here I thought you liked us, Daniel?”

“Foster…”

“No. No. Fuck no. I’m not putting this fuckin’ team at risk so you can interrogate that motherfucker. He’s not gonna fuckin’ talk, and all a snatch and grab is gonna do is get this fuckin’ team killed.”

“Daniel, can you give us a bit?” Mercer asked.

Daniel nodded, turned, and walked off.

“Captain Holt, your job is to carry out the mission as planned.”

“My job , Commander Mercer, is to lead my team and make sure they make it home in one piece. This mission is a fuckin’ death march, and you know it. We’ll be lucky if we’re not all fuckin’ dead or captured, and if the latter happens, you make sure my wife and kids don’t see the footage of my head leavin’ my fuckin’ shoulders!” Foster yelled before walking away.

Mercer turned and looked at me. “Keeping him from getting sent to the brig is the 2IC’s job.”

“That might be a problem, sir, since I agree with him.”

“I’ve got a hot head as a 3IC, soon-to-be 2IC, and two obstinate as fuck officers.”

“I’m not an officer yet, sir.”

“You better not let us down, Petty Officer. We’re counting on you,” Mercer said before walking off to speak with Daniel, hopefully to rethink this mission.

“Pressure much?”

I turned to Alex. He was one of the two youngest guys on the team, but a damn fine operator who I was proud to serve with.

“The pressure’s there without or without him saying shit.”

“You deserve OCS, Carson,” Alex said.

“Thanks, Alex,” I said with a smile.

The team’s confidence humbled me, but I had something else to do at the moment. Namely, help my CO convince the powers that be not to send us on a funeral march.

I patted Alex’s shoulder and walked over to Foster. He had his laptop out and was mumbling under his breath.

“You come up with anything yet, and am I stressing about OCS for nothing?”

“No, I’ve not come up with anything yet, but you are stressing about OCS for nothing. So, tell me, soon-to-be Ensign Wilcox, what the fuck could we do other than walk into a fucking shitshow?”

“I say we get the guys together, along with all the intel, map out the village, and come up with our own fucking plan.”

“See. No worries. Let’s get this mission done so that you don’t miss your report date for OCS.”

I chuckled, followed him over to the other guys, and got to work. Two hours later, when we landed, we hit the ground with a plan that gave us a better-than-average chance of making it out alive.

As we infiltrated, I couldn’t help but gaze at the stars in awe. The team moved through the night at a steady clip under a blanket of some of the brightest stars I’d ever seen. This part of the world could be so violent yet so beautiful, especially at night.

I held up my hand, signaling the rest of the team to stop, and I dropped to a knee. Raising the scope, I peered out over the landscape. The village spread below us and was quiet. Or appeared to be. One thing we all learned, quickly and sometimes violently with some terrible outcomes, things weren’t always as they appeared, and I said so.

“Looks quiet. I don’t like it.”

The memory of my speaking similar words the night they captured Adam whispered through my mind, but I pushed it away, shoving it into the box. There was no time or place for that tonight.

“Yeah, well, this op fecking sucks,” Finlay cursed.

Murmurs of agreement came from the others, and as I looked around me, they were all doing the same thing I was, peering through the scopes on their weapons, looking for an opening to snatch and grab the target Daniel and the other CIA cronies wanted.

“The Gods are smiling on us, gents,” Alex whispered.

I looked back through the scope, watching our HVT walk out into the open space behind the building where we’d been told he was held. The glow of a flame flared in my night vision as he lit a cigarette.

James asked, “Where’s his soldiers? There’s no way he’d be out there on his own, right? It can’t be that easy?”

It was either that easy, or we were walking into a trap.

Again.

“Well, sittin’ on our thumbs ain’t gonna answer those questions, and I don’t think we’re gonna get any luckier than him walking outside and offering himself up on a silver platter like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

I chuckled as we moved out. Foster had a way with words. Sometimes, you’d never know he was a Texan, but then the southern twang came out and there was no denying it.

At the base of the mountain, we flanked the target’s position and took him into custody. No bullets, no casualties, no injuries. We just walked up to him, put him on his knees, shoved a bag over his head, zip-tied his wrists, and lugged the fucker out of there.

“That was too damn easy,” I muttered. “He just offered himself up to be captured.”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Ain’t that one of the sayings you Southerners use?” Finlay asked.

I glared at him. This was no time to be flippant, but per the usual, once the op was over or close to over in this case, Finlay went from a stone-faced operator to a wise-cracking cut-up that annoyed the hell out of me.

“I’m with Carson,” Alex said. “This was way too easy.”

“You know, just cause he’s 2IC and heading off to OCS doesn’t mean you’ve gotta suck his ass,” Finlay said.

“Ryan! That’s enough. Carson’s right. It was too easy. Now, shut the fuck up and get the lead out so we don’t miss our ride.”

Finlay grumbled but did as ordered, which was good because the chopper sent to pick us up touched down just as the exfil spot came into view.

We tossed the target in the chopper and climbed onboard. As the ground dropped away from us, my chest expanded with a sigh of relief. We just had to get back to base, and then I was a couple of plane rides away from the next chapter in my life—one I hoped wasn’t as lonely as it had been the previous ten years.

“What’s got you smirking like the cat who ate the canary?” Foster asked.

Swallowing, I forced my mouth into a more neutral position. “I don’t know what you mean,” I lied.

Foster laughed. “Yeah, that’s what I said too when I looked like that. You’ll be able to make a call when we hand the target over to the spooks.”

How he knew there was someone I wanted to call, I didn’t know. It wasn’t like I had a billboard above my head or anything. Hell, I wasn’t like the other guys, taking people home from the bars in full view of the team. I didn’t do that shit, so it’s not like he knew what I looked like when I was interested in someone.

As we approached the base, the sky lightened from black to gray and slowly turned bright as dawn overtook twilight. The sun broke the horizon fully just as the chopper touched down. Daniel and his buddies met us, taking the target off our hands. They were delighted, but I was fucking worried. Something felt off, but sometimes it did, and it meant something, and sometimes it did and didn’t. Time would tell.

“I’m grabbing a shower and calling my wife,” Foster called over his shoulder. “Y’all should do the same. Wheels up in two hours.”

“None of us have wives!” Finlay yelled after him.

Foster chuckled and called back before jogging off, “Sounds like a personal problem to me.”

I wandered off to grab my gear. When I got to the plane, I picked up my pack and pulled my phone out but paused when I caught sight of the time. I really wanted to call, but it was the middle of the night for him, and I didn’t know if I should call him. He could be at the hospital, or he could be in bed asleep, but I promised I’d let him know we were okay, so I sent him a text.

Carson

Op over.

Just waiting on a flight home.

We’re all okay.

Roman

Thank God. That was stressful. Apparently, I’m a worrywart.

It probably made me a fucking asshole, but fuck it, his worrying elated me. The feeling bloomed in my chest and grew until my face hurt from the smile that stretched my mouth wider than comfortable.

Carson

I report to Newport for OCS as soon as I get back to base.

Well. Almost. I have a bit of time to get shit straight, but not much.

My phone rang, and his name flashed on the screen. Excitement exploded, forcing my grin even wider, and I fumbled to answer.

“Hey,” I gasped when I finally got the call answered and the phone raised to my ear.

“Hello to you, too. I wanted to say congratulations as close to in person as possible.”

Butterflies and fire burst into a frenzy, fighting for dominance and robbing me of thought, words, breath, everything, as the fluttering and flames danced through my system.

“Are you there?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just…”

“Just…”

“I don’t know.”

“I can let you go…”

“No! No. Sorry, that’s not what I want at all,” The words came out loud, harsh, and in a rush but slowed to a soft whisper.

“What do you want?” he asked in a similar tone.

While my voice sounded confused and unsure, his was confident yet vulnerable, and I wanted to blurt out “You,” but I held my tongue and said, “I want us to be friends again.”

Silence sucked all the sound from the connection until he cleared his throat and said, “That’s what I want too.”

As much as his words filled me with happiness, they also stole some of the hope I had for one day having more with him.

“Good… I’m glad,” I said.

“So, no injuries this time around?”

“Nothing that needs a layover in Germany.”

“I’m not sure if I should be happy or sad about that.”

His chuckled words gave away the joke, but I kinda felt the same way. I would love a stop in Germany even if it was just for one of those bear hugs of his, but I didn’t want any of us to need a trauma center.

“I’m not sure how OCS works for the Army, but I’m guessing it’s similar. Just in case, I’ll be out of touch for a bit. No phone until I hit phase three.”

“You’ll have internet access before you get phone privileges. I talked to a buddy who’s a Navy doc, and he said y’all get emails after indoc, whatever that is. Then, phone access comes several weeks later.”

I didn’t know if I should be thrilled or worried he’d talked about me to someone, but I figured he knew to be discreet, so I landed on thrilled. Fucking ecstatic, more likely.

“You still there?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not worried, are you?”

“Nah. Not at all.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, yeah. A bit. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve been told people are counting on me or they’re proud of me…”

“The pressure sucks, but you made it through boot camp, BUD/S, and Jump School, plus whatever your specialty is. Sniper, if I had to guess.”

“Yeah. Plus, a round of medic training.”

“You always were an overachiever.”

“Except in math. I’d never made it through any of those advanced math classes without you.”

“You would’ve figured it out. You were always the smartest of the lot of us.”

“Man, you’re a goddamn doctor. I’d say that counts as being the Einstein of the Wilcox boys.”

He chuckled, but his voice told a different story when he said, “It’s been a long time since someone called me a Wilcox boy.”

There wasn’t any humor, and even through the phone, he sounded sad.

“You should hit Mama up on Facebook. She’d loved to hear from you.”

She hadn’t said anything about Roman in years, but I knew she’d welcome him with open arms if he reached out to her.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Hey! Two!”

I turned and watched Alex strut toward me. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, his chest on full display. Hair smattered across his pecs, down his abs, narrowing to a vee below his belly button before disappearing under the fabric knotted at his hip. It’s no wonder I worried my dick was broken for my entire adult life. My teammates and I weren’t shy around each other. We couldn’t be, and yet, none of them, no matter how attractive I knew they were, ever caused even a flicker of interest, whereas Roman could have me hard with very little effort.

“Wassup?” I asked.

“You showering and eating? If so, you better haul ass,” Alex said. “Water won’t stay warm long, and chow hall will close soon.”

I nodded, not saying anything until he moseyed off toward the bunks the teams rotated through while working in this area. I was just thankful we had access to food and showers. Sometimes we didn’t and had to make a long flight covered in dirt and grime.

“Sounds like you’ve gotta go.”

“Yeah.”

I didn’t want to hang up. I could talk with Rome about anything, well, except that , but everything else came out easily whenever we were together. I had this deep kernel of hope that the more I talked to him, the more likely I’d find my damn balls and speak to him about more than stupid shit.

“Well, I have every confidence in you. I always have. So, hang up, grab a shower, get something to eat, and then go kick ass in Newport because that’s the one thing I’ve always known. You will kick ass and take names, no matter how impossible a task might be.”

His words humbled me to the point that my chin trembled. I cleared my throat to cover the emotion he’d caused, then said, “You’re bossy.”

“You have no idea,” he growled. His voice was low, gravelly, and fuck me, if he didn’t sound dark and sinister with a hint of mischievousness. It made me feel like he was saying more than what came out of his mouth.

It also had me breathless and panting, with my cock throbbing and blood racing. My mouth fell open, and I sucked in a deep breath, trying to settle the inferno blazing through my veins.

“Umm… is… is that so?” I stuttered.

Another evil laugh echoed through the connection, attempting to undo the smidgeon of calm I’d dragged up.

“That’s a conversation for another day. Preferably when we’re in the same country, at least. Take care. Update me when you can.”

I nodded without thinking. Not that I could’ve thought my response through as my mind was still trying to wrap itself around the bossy side of Roman with that devious, sexy voice.

“Carson, if you nodded, I can’t see you.”

“Oh! Umm… sorry… I got sidetracked.”

He didn’t need to know my cock standing at attention robbed my thoughts.

“I figured. I’ll let you go. I need to get back to my patients.”

“Yeah, umm. Thanks for calling. I’ll let you know how things are doing when I get phone privileges.”

“Good. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Same,” I replied, and the line went dead.

I stared at the phone for several minutes, willing it to ring so I could keep talking with him, but I knew I needed to get my ass in gear.