SEALed Forever Read online

  “Hang in there. We got you. We’re bringing you home,” he whispered. She said something in French he couldn’t understand.

  “Got one of the Belgium girls,” he barked. “Serious. Gonna need immediate attention.”

  Brawley cut through the binding on the three men and reported, “Kyle, they say there are only three. One lost, and they lost one of the girls, too.”

  He could hear the American girl talking fast in English, crying between her words. Ollie went over to her and helped her walk.

  “I got you, sweetheart. Just lean on me.” He kept her at the outside, helping her to sit on a boulder as she clung to him, sobbing into his upper thigh. “No worries. You’re safe now.”

  The three aid workers raced over and began to help the Belgium woman. Tucker dropped his bag and handed them his medic kit. They worked with skill, giving her an injection of antibiotics and had the dressing changed in seconds. Those cool blue eyes stared up at him, but this time, they were smiling.

  “Thank God you came when you did. She would have been dead by morning,” he said in his Scandinavian accent.

  Tucker answered him. “Nice to meet you, Sven.”

  “Jean? You guys out there?” Kyle barked without getting an answer. “Jean, we got eleven dead. We’re going back with three males, a seriously injured female, and the American nurse relatively unharmed. We’ve been told the other two perished.”

  Tucker saw Kyle double checking the sat phone, swearing as he still didn’t receive an answer.

  Danny, Coop, Brawley, and others checked for I.D.s, notes, or maps from the dead and presented Kyle with a very sparse pile of papers. Kyle tucked them into his jacket.

  “We can’t wait any longer,” whispered their chief into his Invisio. “Let’s get everyone and the firearms in the lorry. Coop, can you get these puppies started?” Kyle said, pointing to the two vehicles.

  “I’m on it,” said the big SEAL, running.

  Before anyone could move, a twelfth shooter appeared around the back of the troop transport, drilled a shot to the back of Ollie’s head, grabbed the American nurse from behind, and screamed, “I’ll shoot her!” He aimed his pistol under her chin, hauling her into the tiny Jeep while using her as a shield.

  The Team was temporarily stunned as they watched the body of their brother slumped against the transport. As the sound of the open-air Jeep took off into the night, the distinctive crack of Armando’s sniper rifle fired after him, but the Jeep continued.

  Ollie’s body pitched and fell to the ground like a limp rag.

  Chapter 17

  Brandy was headed to the gym when Christy Lansdowne’s number came up on the car’s dash as an incoming call. Her heart immediately began to pound in her chest. Her hands got sweaty. She temporarily couldn’t find the answer button and almost disconnected the call. Her mouth was parched.

  “Christy?” she rasped.

  “Hey, Brandy. There’s been some trouble, and I wanted you to hear about it from me first before you see it on the news.”

  “Is Tucker—?”

  “We have one fatality, but it isn’t Tucker.”

  “Who?”

  “I’m not allowed to say, but please don’t breathe a word to anyone. Stay off your phone but have it by your side. More to come.”

  “You need help calling people?” Brandy asked, relieved that at least Tucker was alive.

  “Oh thanks, sweetie, but I got this. I gotta run, but stay off the phone, and if anyone on the outside tries to contact you for details, you haven’t heard anything. Understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

  Brandy pulled over to the side of the road as hot tears slipped down her cheeks. Still in shock, she took several huge gulps of air to calm her nerves. But just when she was getting control of herself, a wave of pain flooded over her, and she lost it again. The proximity to danger, to the fact that Tucker could have been killed, had knocked her so hard, she was reeling from the aftermath, gasping to wrap her mind around it.

  What does all this mean? Is he alive but injured in some way?

  After regaining her composure, she turned her car around and headed home.

  First thing that hit her was that the place looked so empty without Tucker there. Everything was the same as she’d left it, but now she saw it through a different set of eyes. She was desperate for information.

  Who is it? Brawley?

  She wanted to call Dorie but turned on the TV instead and sat watching the news, clutching her cell. She flipped the channels, hoping for some commentary on trouble in Africa. After nearly an hour, one of the stations finally broke for a special report that Special Forces had been engaged in an altercation in an unknown location in Central Africa and that there were multiple fatalities.

  Multiple fatalities?

  Could Christy have not gotten the latest news? Were more members of the team injured—or…? She had to stop herself.

  She ran to the kitchen and poured herself a tumbler of Tucker’s whiskey, feeling it burn all the way down her throat. As she flipped from station to station, there wasn’t any further detail.

  Her cell phone rang, waking her up. She’d fallen asleep on the couch, the glass tumbler was on its side in her lap, the TV still blaring in the background. The room was dark as the sun had set hours ago. She didn’t want to look at the caller I.D. before answering.

  “Hello?”

  “Brandy. It’s Dorie. I just needed to call someone. Did you—?”

  “Is Brawley okay?”

  “Yes. Tucker?”

  “Yes, thank God.”

  She heard Dorie collapse on the other end of the phone. “I know I wasn’t supposed to call. Please forgive me.”

  “Nonsense, Dorie. You want me to come over while we wait?”

  “Could you? Jessica is down for the night, but I could sure use some company.”

  “Be right over. You need me to bring anything?” Brandy asked.

  “No, I’m good. Just come.”

  Brandy was at Brawley and Dorie’s house in twenty minutes. She turned off her car radio, annoyed at the news hypes and all the advertising. The clock said one A.M when she arrived.

  She knocked at the front door but let herself in without waiting. Dorie ran straight to her, wearing a long nightgown, and collapsed in her arms. Brandy immediately felt comforted wrapped in the arms of her best friend. Dorie’s body was shaking in compulsive sobbing she couldn’t contain. As she held Dorie, images of their years of friendship passed by her eyes as she relived and recounted all the happy days, all the big joys and trials they’d shared together, and prayed for a happy ending.

  This cannot be!

  “Come on. Let’s sit. Have you tried watching the news?” Dorie’s eyes were puffy, a vein in her forehead pulsed, and her chest heaved as she tried to get her breath.

  “I—I haven’t been able to find out anything, but I stopped watching. I just couldn’t.”

  Brandy understood how she felt.

  “Well, we’ve heard both Tucker and Brawley are okay, so let’s be grateful for what we know and pray for the families of all the others.”

  It broke her heart to think of the bonfire on their last weekend, all the wives and kids sitting around together. She finally understood why that was so important. Someone would get some bad news tonight—something she never wanted to hear.

  As if she could will it so, she pushed all those thoughts out of her mind. Dorie lay curled up against her as she pulled a throw over both of them, and they held each other.

  This was unknown territory for Brandy. Brushing the hair from Dorie’s forehead, she tried to think of something that would soothe her.

  “At least this time he’s not missing like the last deployment. It sounds like they are safe. Just remember, Brawley isn’t missing. He’s coming home.”

  “Yes. This is different, but, Brandy, he had to work so hard to come back. It took him all that time in rehab. What’s going to happen now?”

&nbs
p; Brandy didn’t have any answers for her but tried. “You know him, and you know he’s strong. And this time, Tucker’s with him. He also has you and Jessica. It’s a whole new family he comes back to. He did it before. He can do it again.”

  After searching the news outlets again, they decided to go back to bed and wait out the word. Brandy left a message on her dad’s cell so he wouldn’t expect her for work and promised to get back.

  Dorie insisted she stay over and offered her the bedroom, but Brandy needed to be on her own.

  “Go take a shower, Dorie. It will relax you. And then turn in. I’ll just borrow a pillow and sleep in the couch in front.

  “Thank you. I have to get stronger about all this, or I won’t survive.”

  “You don’t say things like that, Dorie. You’ve got the baby and Jessica now to take care of too. He’s going to need all the strength you can muster. I know you can do it.”

  “You’re such a good friend, Brandy.”

  They hugged and retired for the night.

  Morning light hit her across the face as her cell rang. It was Tucker!

  “Tucker! Oh my God. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  There was that word again. She waited for further explanation.

  “Um, we’re coming home early. We lost a guy, and we’re bringing him home.”

  “Christy told me. Who, Tucker?”

  “Ollie Culbertson.” Dead silence followed his whisper.

  “I’m so sorry, Tucker. Are any of you injured at all?”

  “Just a scratch. A few of us got banged up, but we’re used to that. Just tough dealing with it. It will be good to get home. And, look, I can’t stay on the line long. Just wanted you to hear it from me.”

  “Thank you. I’ve got you, Tucker. I’m going to dedicate myself to making you feel better.”

  He didn’t answer back, which told Brandy there was much more he needed to say and couldn’t. Then he whispered, “I’m not going to be very good company, Brandy. Just warning you. But I’ll try.”

  “No worries. Don’t even bother about that.”

  “And there’s Brawley. He’s a mess.”

  This was what she was expecting. “I understand. I’m at Dorie’s house right now.”

  “Good. Listen, Kyle’s going to call her, but don’t mention that because she probably wants to hear from Brawley, so just tell her we’re having to take turns here. And give her my best. I’ll text you when I’m in country.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart. Love you, Tucker.”

  But he had disconnected the call.

  Chapter 18

  Kyle had managed to get the Belgian doctor a medivac to the new trauma center at the capitol until she could be stabilized and then sent home to Belgium. The bird was to meet them back at the compound.

  The decision was risky, but the Hajere Trauma Center was the closest available medical facility capable of handling her injuries. The capitol was about to become destabilized, and Sven and the other medics doubted she’d survive the trip back to Benin. It was hoped she’d be ready to be flown home to Belgium in two days’ time.

  The State Department confirmed that there was an impending coup about to break out any day and that Jean, through his contacts with the Civil Guard, had been detained until the SEALs were removed. There was worry that an armed government militia was on its way to prevent their leaving.

  “Someone wants trophies,” Cooper said.

  “I’m guessing their timing was off, and they expected to intercept us on the way,” said Kyle. “So, we have to get out of here immediately.”

  “Suits me fine. Can’t wait to get out of this shithole,” muttered Brawley. He wandered off into the dark, mumbling.

  Everyone had to fit inside the only form of transportation they had: the one lorry. T.J. and Tucker wrapped Ollie’s body in a blanket, securing it with rope, and loaded it on top of the canvas cover. Then they climbed up top with him. The doctor was laid out over the laps of four men in the second seat, and everyone else was jammed into the back. They also loaded up the weapons and tossed them in the back.

  “Shit, where’s Brawley?” asked Kyle.

  “Goddammit,” Tucker said as he jumped from the roof and switched on his light. “Brawley, where the fuck are you?”

  Kyle chimed in. “Brawley? We gotta go? You want to wait for the bad guys?”

  They heard someone across the firepit. Brawley was sitting cross-legged, rocking back and forth, mumbling something over and over again.

  “I got him. Can I get some help?” Tucker shouted.

  Several men hoisted him up, dumping him into the back. “Someone secure him if he tries to get out,” Kyle barked.

  They heard a “Roger that.”

  Brawley wasn’t making any sense, and Tucker knew it was spooking the Team, but he could count on them to keep him restrained. Tucker jumped up top again, as the two others repositioned themselves and they headed out.

  Cooper drove at break-neck speed, even though the night was still pitch black.

  When they arrived at the compound, Jean’s men had indeed pulled out, leaving the entire place unguarded. Wilson, Carson, and the other SEALs had convinced them to leave behind two of the four vehicles, which they had already packed, including the Zodiac and Wilson’s precious engine.

  Tucker was grateful they wouldn’t have to hike out, especially now that they’d have to restrain Brawley and perhaps carry him.

  The helicopter arrived and took charge of the doctor, as well as evacuated the two Italian workers. Sven Tolar agreed to accompany the SEAL Team to the Benin border and beyond to the coast where he could arrange transportation home.

  “Before we head out, make sure you find your passports for the crossing. I don’t want to fight our way back, if we don’t have to.”

  Tucker had to find his in the bag that had been thrown in the back of the Areva Afrique truck. He also found Brawley’s.

  “Everyone legal?” Kyle shouted. There were no complaints.

  “I have mine as well,” said Sven from the back.

  Kyle eyed Tucker, leaning forward and giving quick glances to Brawley sitting between them. “Everything good?” Kyle asked.

  “Perfect,” returned Tucker. Brawley continued staring straight ahead, thankfully, without saying a word.

  Several of the team had injuries, which Sven, T.J., and Cooper had treated, but nothing that couldn’t wait until they got stateside. The idea was to cross the border at dawn and make it to Benin to catch a charter flight home. Tucker’s job was to keep an eye on Brawley and keep him from wandering off.

  The three trucks roared out of the compound and headed straight for what they hoped was the fastest route, the highway, since getting out stealth mode wasn’t a priority. Cooper had DeWayne up front with him as a translator, while Kyle, Tucker and Brawley took the second seat. Sven sat behind. T.J. drove the second truck and Fredo the third.

  They passed a convoy of military trucks heading north to the capitol, but the road otherwise was empty both ways.

  Kyle ended his long call with his State Department liaison and shook his head.

  “Sons of bitches said this caught them off guard. I’m not buying that,” Kyle cursed.

  “Excuse me, Chief Lansdowne,” Sven inserted, “but we’re always on alert here for potential coups. We have an election coming up in two weeks. You know how it works. If they think they’re going to lose the election, they have a coup, and then there’s a civil war. They couldn’t have known for sure.”

  “Well, we were sent here to find the smugglers, not save the country.”

  “We did,” said Coop. “We rescued four out of seven. If it was going to be easy, they’d have sent in somebody else.”

  Tucker agreed. But in the silence, he knew everyone was thinking about the man they lost.

  Two hours later, they’d raced through the crossing, which was oddly unmanned. The sky was growing pink as they traveled toward a coastal town, where State ha
d made accomodations for them at a crumbling hotel.

  Tucker snuck in his quick call to Brandy from his own cell to let her know he was coming home.

  Relieved at least to have a bed and the possibility of some sleep, he felt more human. He laid Brawley back on his bed, removed his shoes, and gave him a shot so he’d sleep the night without wandering off. He suspected the PTSD diagnosis he’d had nearly two years ago had now flared up.

  Sven stopped by to check in and say good-bye. They whispered so as not to disturb Brawley.

  “Just wanted to say thanks. I was hoping I’d get to spend some time with you guys. Maybe take a raincheck?” His forehead was wrinkled as his eyebrows rose.

  Tucker gave him a hug. “Not anytime soon.”

  “I understand,” muttered Sven.

  “I wanted to talk to you about your Spec Ops tour. We trained with some of you guys last gig, over ten years ago. And I served with a couple of your guys in Afghanistan. I got tons of respect, man.”

  “It’s mutual.”

  “So how the hell did you get back here as an aid worker?”

  Sven leaned against the doorframe, exhaled, and then began. “When I came home, there was no family left behind to welcome me back, and after I got out, I just couldn’t focus. I tried applying for some private security, you know, contracting jobs. But when I read about the Doctors’ Corp, I got inspired. I knew I could help protect the workers, and I wanted to give something back.”

  “See the other side of suffering and war.”

  “Exactly. I was saving lives overseas, but I just wanted to use my skills for good. This was my first one.”

  “And did it help?”

  “I feel like the work’s not finished. But yes. I’m needed here.”

  “So, you’ll come back?”

  “I will. When the violence allows us to re-insert. They want me back in Paris until then.”

  “Let’s stay in touch, Sven. If you ever get out to San Diego, stop by. I’d like to hear about your travels.”