Everyone had rehearsed his piece of the ‘actions on’ for this mission and moved into place quickly and quietly. The plan was to fire several rockets into the cave mouth, lay down a short base of fire with the machine guns, and then rapidly withdraw down the mountain. As the enemy regrouped for a counter attack and pursuit, the gunship that was high overhead would then start to engage with its awesome arsenal of howitzers, grenades, and mini-guns to cover the team‘s withdrawal and mop up any left over enemy fighters.
Rourk was to the rear of the formation, positioned higher than the rest of the team. He pulled out the picture of his wife and ran his thumb across her face. Keegan was his good luck charm. He slid the picture back in his pocket and took a deep breath, waiting for the fireworks to begin.
On O’Grady’s signal, the team unleashed hell. The amount of ordnance put onto the plateau and cave was huge for such a small element. Bright flashes lit up the sky, and the ground shook beneath them from the explosions. The stench of gunpowder filled the air. As per the plan, the team started to retreat down the mountain, signaling to their air support that they were withdrawing. The plan seemed to be going to go off picture perfect.
Suddenly, heavy machine gun fire rained down on them from a position opposite and higher on an adjacent hill. The team took cover immediately, crouching or lying flat on the ground behind large piles of rocks. Dirt and rocks kicked up around them as the bullets made impact with the earth.
“SHIT! Where‘d they come from?” Mirko screamed.
“Does anyone have an angle on that position?” Connelly asked, his voice even and calm under fire.
From his elevated position, Rourk could see the muzzle flashes from the machine gun, but couldn‘t tell how many people were there. He keyed his radio.
“On my signal, move.”
Rourk crept away from the team, heading back up the mountain towards the firestorm that was still happening above and towards potential enemy fighters running down. He crouched in the best-covered position he could find, and then swapped out magazines in his M4 for one that was loaded with tracer rounds.
“Tell our air support I‘m putting out tracer fire on that position,” he told his team leader. Once he heard the confirmation, he keyed his radio, “Stand by,” then started to fire directly into the enemy machine gun position.
The tracer rounds worked both ways. They allowed the air support to see the enemy position, but they also gave away Rourk’s hiding spot. It was a calculated risk, but Rourk knew the only way to protect his team was to help the gunships take out the biggest threat to their retreat. After all, they were operating in a tight window. Their hit-and-run mission relied upon them making it down the mountain before their opponents had a chance to regroup.
The enemy machine gun shifted fire away from his team and towards Rourk. As the rounds started to impact around his position, Rourk keyed his radio again.
“Move, move, move! I‘m two minutes behind you.”
Dropping down, Rourk scrambled to a second position nearby, swapped out magazines again, took careful aim, and rapidly fired thirty rounds into and around where the bright bloom of muzzle flash was coming from—the enemy machine gun.
A blow to his chest made him jerk sideways. Because of the rush of adrenaline, he didn’t register what had happened, and he adjusted his hold on the machine gun, continuing to fire. Before his magazine was empty, the machine guns across the way died out. Rourk bolted out of his position and headed downhill, following the path his team had just taken. Rocks kicked up under his feet as he ran.
Sweat slicked down his face, his chest ached, and when he ran his hand down his chest he could feel the hole and singed fabric. He realized he’d been shot. The bullet proof vest had saved him. The brush with death sobered him momentarily, coming down from the high of battle. Just the thought of leaving Keegan forever made his heart drop. He shook the thought away. This was what he did. Who he was.
He could hear the comforting whopping of the helicopter. He ran until he saw the small plateau where the bird hovered. He was the last one to reach it.
“Kavanagh, get your ass over here. Always late to the party.”
Rourk grinned and grabbed the arm Stitch held out to him. Stitch pulled him onto the bird.
“Jesus, man, you got hit?” Stitch stared down at the hole in Rourk’s jacket.
Rourk looked down at his chest, shrugged, and smiled. “I guess some of O’Grady’s Irish luck rubbed off on me.”
O’Grady whooped and, held out a fist, and Rourk bumped it.
“Gonna leave a bruise.” Jamison called out from the back.
“Hell, I’ll take a bruise any day over the thunder we rained down on them. Can’t come back from dead.” Mirko pulled out his Thor’s hammer and rubbed it. “Thank you, Thor.”
Pain radiated through Rourk’s chest, but he ignored it. Instead, his thoughts went to his beautiful wife. He couldn’t wait to get home and wrap his arms around her. He missed everything about her.
Half the guys passed out on the ride back to base camp. Rourk felt his own head nod off a few times too.
CHAPTER 7
Usually, Rourk was keyed up after a mission, but the helicopter ride back to the compound had practically lulled him to sleep.
Rourk collapsed into his chair. The smell of gunpowder came off him in waves. It felt good to be off his feet. Exhaustion racked his body. He rolled his shoulders before bending down to slowly unlace his boots. His chest was stiff from the impact of the bullet. Already he could feel the bruise that covered his chest. He tossed his socks in the clothing bin, wiggled his toes, and placed his boots in front of his bed.
Stitch walked in behind him and flipped open his laptop, pressing the play button. Classical music was how he decompressed after they went out. Tchaikovsky filled the room. Much better than the rap Stitch insisted on during their workouts.
“My turn to shower first.” Stitch reminded him, dropping his bag on the floor with a thud.
Rourk nodded and leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. The soothing music eased the tension in his shoulders.
They had been out close to four days, most of the time trekking through the mountains. Only once had they engaged the enemy that evening, and they were lucky there were no causalities, at least not on their side. The world had been rid of a few more terrorists tonight, but Rourk knew there would be more to take their place. They were like fire ants; they just kept coming.
He couldn’t allow himself to think that way. They were chipping away at their defenses. Tomorrow would be another day, and they would make more progress.
He hung his uniform jacket over the chair and shrugged out of his pants. They had already dropped off their gear, and cleaned their weapons. He was drenched with sweat and covered in grime. Sand fell to the floor, and Rourk inwardly groaned. He grabbed the broom out of the closet and swept the sand to the corner of the room. He would get rid of it in the morning. All he wanted to do now was shower and go to bed.
Luckily, he only had to share a bathroom with Stitch, who had just walked out of the bathroom and dropped on his bed. “All yours. I saved you some hot water.”
Rourk nodded, too weary to engage in conversation, and walked towards the bathroom. The cold tile felt good on his sore feet.
“Kavanagh. That was some crazy shit tonight.”
Rourk paused, but didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say.
“I love the way the sky lights up like the Fourth of July. Mother fucking red, white, and blue.” Stitch smiled. “You probably didn’t even flinch when you took a round to the chest, did you?”
“Of course, it knocked the wind out of me,” Rourk said and could hear the exhaustion in his own voice. He thought of a line from one of his favorite poems by Archilochus: In victory do not brag; in defeat, do not weep.
“Yeah, right. I still don’t know how you moved so fast. I saw where you were shooting from. How the hell did you get there that quickly?”
> “Adrenaline.” Rourk walked a fine line. He couldn’t tap fully into his elfin powers; his reflexes were far more advanced than humans’. So he always had to hold back, but if his life or a team member’s life was on the line, self-preservation always took over. He’d already made quite a name for himself, so anything out of the norm might be met with a raised eyebrow, but nothing more. He’d proved himself over and over during training, and in combat. He got ribbed a lot about being super human. The guys asked if he was in some government super soldier program and was holding out on them. They’d laugh their asses off if he told them he was an elf, descendant from a long line of warriors.
“I don’t know, man. I swear you run on kryptonite or something. Even Jamison was muttering under his breath that it was impossible when we saw the location you were shooting from.”
“Kryptonite. I think if I had special powers, my chest wouldn’t be on fire now.” Rourk forced a grin and willed his body to relax. “I gotta clean up and get some sleep.” Rourk grabbed a towel off the shelf.
“All I know is, I’m glad you’re on my side.” Stitch’s lip twitched, and he fell back on the cot. He would be passed out before Rourk made it into the shower. The body could only take so much, and then it needed to reset.
He kicked off his shorts and tossed his T-shirt into the hamper. With the palm of his hand, Rourk wiped away the steam that still covered the mirror to get a better look at his injury. He stared at his reflection and saw that a huge purple bruise covered the left side of his chest. It was tender to the touch. He was grateful for the armor, otherwise it would have been a kill shot. It was a stark reminder of how quickly life could be taken. He didn’t even want to think about leaving Keegan.
He turned the shower on as hot as it would go and stepped in, letting the water wash away the night. His muscles ached, and the heat soothed the pain. He replayed what had taken place earlier as he scrubbed the grime away.
He was only doing what came naturally to him. He would never hesitate to risk himself for any of the guys on the team. They were like brothers to him. He couldn’t give any less than his best, even if it meant giving his life.
Quickly, he toweled off, pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and settling into his bed. He glanced at his watch. The timing was perfect.
Keegan
She bolted up in the bed and looked around.
Rourk smiled at the site sight of her auburn hair sticking up in odd directions. She was wearing a pair of teal polar bear pajamas. He knew they were full body, including the feet with a zipper running down the front. She looked adorable in them. Keegan, how are you?
Rourk. She ran her hands over her face. It was time for her to wake up, but as usual she had slept in.
I miss you so much. Rourk placed his hands under his head, crossing his ankles. He was so grateful for their bond. Keegan liked to tease that Skype would be easier on him, but he loved to talk to her through their bond, even if it did drain his energy. Rourk wasn’t a big fan of technology. He liked to preserve as much of their elfin heritage as possible.
Me too. Time is dragging. Thaddeus is here so that should help.
Rourk straightened. What’s going on with Thaddeus?
He seems a little upset, and I was worried something was going to happen to you, but come to find out it was Tommy he was worried about.
Tommy? Thaddeus had saved Tommy once before. He’d had a vision that Tommy was going to get hit by a car. Rourk had not been fast enough to save him, but thankfully, Keegan’s mother was able to get to his side quickly and heal him.
Yeah, apparently he’s been seeing spirits. Before, it was just during his sleep; now it’s during the day.
Rourk let the information sink in. Maybe that’s what his visit was all about, but it still didn’t seem to fit. He’d wondered how Tommy was doing, and was pretty surprised he hadn’t mentioned it to him. But if there was one thing Rourk could understand, it was privacy and personal space.
Thaddeus hasn’t said anything more? Rourk realized his fists were clenched and uncurled them. Just the thought of something happening to Keegan was enough to put him over the edge. He’d lost her once before, and he could not go through that again.
No, but he does seem sad. I think his gift is weighing on him again. He answered the door for a delivery and saw the kid’s death. It seemed to hit him hard.
Rourk’s throat tightened. Thaddeus’s gift must seem more like a curse most of the time. I feel for your brother. He doesn’t have an easy path.
I know. It’s hard to see him troubled.
I’m sure.
You sound tired.
I’m pretty beat down. I can’t talk long. I just wanted to see how you were doing.
Other than missing you like crazy, I’m perfectly fine.
I hope you’re being safe.
Always.
Rourk could feel the energy draining, and sleep was about to wash over him. I love you Keegan. I’ll email in the morning.
Keegan smiled, and Rourk’s heart constricted. She faded away, and he quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER 8
Two days had passed since their last mission. Rourk was glad for the reprieve; he felt like his energy levels were fully restored, and now he was anxious to get back out there. He had no idea what the next mission would be, and he was curious to find out. He loved the planning stage almost as much as the execution.
Stitch scratched his chin as they walked down the hallway beneath the bright fluorescent lights. “I hate this damn facial hair. It itches like a son of a bitch.”
Rourk glanced over at his friend and hid his smile. Stitch was one of those guys that didn’t grow very much facial hair. It was more like fine thin patches. What he actually hated was being teased by the guys calling him a baby face. “Give it a couple more weeks. You’ll get used to it.”
“Whatever.” Stitch grunted.
They turned down the hall and strode into the team’s operation center. As usual, they were the first to arrive. Rourk walked around, looking at the maps and taking notice of the new red circles placed around a rural village near by.
A few moments later, Jamison walked in and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Morning,” He grunted.
Jamison was not much of a morning person, and they knew not to mess with him till he’d had at least one or two cups of coffee. Rourk and Stitch nodded, but didn’t try to engage in conversation.
Rourk continued to walk around the room, taking in the computer screens and searching for any hint of the next mission. As usual, he was looking forward to being briefed.
The rest of the guys filled in, taking their places around the table. The captain, Jamison, gave a brief message—the usual thumbs up after a successful mission, and then O’Grady, the team sergeant, took over.
He read the traffic report from the prior day, went over new intel, then started to hand out tasks in preparation for the next mission.
“Jamison and I will touch base with the tribal chief and see how much was done since we last checked up on his pet project. If no real progress has been made, we won’t worry about trying to ‘correct’ the situation, just take notes and we‘ll deal with that later. It‘s low priority for us, but we want to stay on the chief‘s good side.”
“Mirko and Lance will head up to the depot and pick up the supplies we requested last week.” He passed them a sheet of paper. “Hopefully, they are ready.”
“Rourk and Stitch, I want you to do a route reconnaissance for our infil and exfil routes for the villa mission.” He leaned forward and tapped his finger on the red area. “Keep in mind, we might have to hand this off to someone else, so look at it with that in mind. Go low profile, civilian vehicle. Mount the usual comms and surveillance gear in the vehicle. You know the drill.”
Rourk nodded. “Will we have any ISR platforms in support?”
“Yeah, there will be a drone operating in the area in case you need it. No reported activity in the area as of late, so just get
a feel and look for any details we might be missing from the map and overhead imagery we‘ve been using. Get with me if you two have any more questions after we‘re done here.”
The meeting continued on, and Rourk listened, but his mind was on the recon.
After the meeting, Rourk and Stitch grabbed the comms and surveillance package they would need and installed them in one of the beat- up Toyota Hi-Lux pick up trucks they had in their motor pool. Once done, they prepped the rest of their equipment, laying it out and doing their pre-combat inspections to ensure everything was present, serviceable, and fully functioning. That done, they changed into ‘low profile’ clothing, strapped on their gear, and made final checks. Once done they made final coordinations with the operations center, and then headed out.
The initial portion of the recon was pretty standard, as the route from their camp was well known to all the team members. As they passed through less familiar terrain, they made verbal notes into a voice recorder, as well as written notes when needed. It was a bit tedious, but both Stitch and Rourk knew that even the tedious and boring aspects of mission prep were just as important as “actions on” when they were actually on the target during the mission.
Like most of the areas they were operating in, the route had stretches of empty rural area broken up with small knots of villages with people, animals and traffic. Stitch rolled to a stop, and they scanned the crowd for anyone paying too much attention.
Rourk’s pulse quickened, and he could scarcely believe his eyes. A man’s eyes glowed an unearthly blue rimmed with yellow, and faint tattoos spread across his face. One of Rourk’s secondary gifts was the ability to detect other creatures of the light and dark. But this was a first for him. A d’jinn?
The man must have felt his presence. He looked up and, they locked eyes, and the creature gave him a wicked grin that made Rourk’s skin crawl.
“Stitch. Notice anything about the man at two o’clock?” Rourk asked casually.