Page 42 of Kyle

“Copy,” I returned and Zane sighed.

“Don’t get dead and bring your woman home.”

My woman. That’s what she was and there was no more fucking denying it. No more pissing away opportunities. No more pushing away what I knew to be true. But now, it might be too late. All because I was a dumb fuck. This was on me.

The line disconnected and two Australian Navy pilots headed our way in flight suits. Declan and I stood ready to follow the team out to the tarmac.

“Have you ever flown on an MH-60 Romeo?” the female pilot asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Declan clipped.

The woman looked me over and lifted her chin. “Someone better get this one a jubie. He looks like he’s gonna chunder.”

“He’s fine,” Dec clipped and pounded me on the shoulder, reminding me to keep my mouth shut.

I didn’t need a goddamned drink and I wasn’t going to throw up. But I was going to hijack the fucking helicopter if they didn’t get a move on.

“Flight check’s been done, unless you’d like to inspect her, we’re ready,” the male interjected.

“We’re good. Let’s roll,” Dec answered.

The pilots parted ways, each climbing in the opposite side of the helicopter. Dec and I made our way to the open gunner’s window and hopped in.

Each of us secured a pair of headsets and settled in.

“Hold tight.” Declan’s hard features told me he was feeling this, too.

We shouldn’t have left Anaya. I’d allowed my personal feelings to get in the way of what I’d known—she’d be in danger if she stayed.

Now she was on board a fucking boat with an unknown number of male kidnappers. God only knew what had been done to her, or what they were still doing to her.

Fury hit my gut and turned it over, slushing around until it mixed with murderous intent.

The chopping of rotor blades started and a moment later the Seahawk started to lift.

“Should be a smooth flight. ETA forty minutes,” the female pilot announced.

“What’s your name?” I asked over the radio.

“Taylor,” the woman answered.

“Lee,” the man sounded off next.

“’Preciate the lift today.”

“We’ll cut down the time for you if we can,” Taylor told me.

“That’d be helpful.”

The longer I sat strapped into the back of the helicopter, the more antsy I became. Every minute meant Anaya was in harm’s way. Every second longer meant she was in fear.

Declan and I had a loose mission plan, but without knowing how many tangos were on the boat we couldn’t come up with a finite plan. Something that had my nerves in a constant state of upheaval. We always planned. We always had a clear mission strategy and backup plans. That was what had kept us alive all these years.

This whole thing felt like we were flying by the seat of our pants and I didn’t fucking like it one bit. And the reality of the situation was, we were jumping into an unknown situation, with a half-assed evac plan in place. And the cold truth was, Anaya may not be on the boat.

And if she was, she may not even be alive.

We were relying on reports Tex and Garrett had dug up about a woman being abducted and carried to a personal water craft near the Maritimia museum and surplus store. Thankfully a group of school children had been visiting and the teacher had reported the abduction.