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“We’re going to take the fight to these fuckers,” Buck whispered, turning his head, and meeting the eyes of his teammates. “Blitz, stay with Joker. Let’s move out. Knives only.”
I am never out of the fight!
Together at first, they low-crawled over the ground until they started to separate into different directions, flanking the advancing force. Buck came to a place of concealment. That was one thing the stinking jungle afforded a man, camouflage. Buck made out several moving shadows, picked out his quarry, and moved, striking like a snake. He had his hand over the man’s mouth and his knife scraping over the man’s throat. The man struggled and gurgled for a second, then it was over. He let the body slide to the ground.
We demand discipline. We expect innovation. The lives of my teammates and the success of our mission depend on me, my technical skill, tactical proficiency, and attention to detail. My training is NEVER complete.
Buck froze, movement and sound amplified as boots stepped so close to him, he could smell the man’s sweat. He remained as still as stone, checking his bearings before he slid to the right. The second shadow went down as easily as the first.
“Two,” Buck said into his comm. We train for war and fight to win. I stand ready to bring the full spectrum of combat power to bear in order to achieve my mission and the goals established by my country. Execution of my duties will be swift and violent when required yet guided by the principle that I serve to defend.
“Three,” came Professor’s count.
“Two,” Zorro rasped.
“Five between me and Gator,” D-Day said.
“That leaves three,” Buck said. “Get it done.”
“One more ghosted,” Bear whispered.
Buck moved back toward Joker and Blitz, keeping low.
“Buck?”
“Yeah,” he replied, hearing the tension in D-Day’s voice.
“We got the rest of them, but there’s more moving in. More than we can handle,” D-Day said.
“Copy that,” he growled. “We’ll have to make a run for the border. We’re almost there. Get back to us, and we’ll bug out.” He spotted D-Day near the tree line. He was moving fast and left a body in his wake.
“Copy,” came five replies.
When all the guys had assembled, Buck bent down, hefted Joker onto his shoulders and worked at not passing out from the excruciating pain that ripped through him. The stretcher was just going to slow them down at this point. They had one chance, and one chance only. Get across the border to the waiting DEA.
As they broke into a run, gunfire peppered around them, the impact of the bullets against leaves making a smacking sound.
A quarter mile along the ridge, Buck could see buildings and a green lushness spreading out in uneven rows. It wasn't small or quaint but filled with color and movement, settled on the edge of the stream in a shallow valley.
He pushed ahead, his breathing labored, his wounds hampering every step, but Buck pushed through the pain, every muscle in his body screamed in agony, Joker heavy across his tight and aching shoulders. Then he tripped, going down on one knee before falling to his side as Joker slid gently to the wet grass.
“Are you all right?”
Fighting against the urge to cry out, he turned his head a scant inch and tried to make out the image above him. Women. Two. One. The shape blurred and multiplied, came together, then divided. Trying to clear his vision drained his strength, and he slipped back toward oblivion.
Brave men have fought and died building the proud tradition and fear of reputation that I am bound to uphold. In the worst of conditions, the legacy of my teammates steadies my resolve and silently guides my every deed.
Joker.
I will NOT fail! He struggled to full consciousness again, the strain making him dizzy as he moved his leaden body and covered his LT. Joker. Danger. The enemy. White flashes erupted like small blasts in his field of vision. He turned his head as the figure closed the space between them, floating, then came into full and stark reality. Delicate cheekbones, almond eyes, an aching blue, a winsome expression, wavy, shoulder-length hair, as dark as the night. Her voice was soft, a hand settled on his back. “Be still. The DEA is here and has everything under control. You’re safe.”
The face of an angel.
He collapsed, the oblivion of darkness swallowing him whole.
2
Buck jerked awake feeling like hamburger meat. His side throbbed like hell, his shoulder stinging, and his legs like lead. His first thought was for Joker, his teammates, and then the position he was in took over most of his brain and body. He was lying on a stretcher under a porch. The storm was over, water dripping off the eaves in a soothing cadence. The woman who had bent over him when he’d collapsed was lying mostly on him, and she was asleep, snoring softly. For some reason that charmed the heck out of him.
