No Woman Left Behind (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The Captain shone a flashlight at us, nearly blinding me. “Ms. Carmichael? Hands? What are you doing out here?”

“Ah...” My mind drew a complete blank.

Before I could say anything else, I felt something furry slip up the back of my shirt. I stifled a scream as Hands one-handedly tucked my T-shirt into my pants to hold the fox in place.

“Sir.” Hands snapped to attention, moving away from me.

The commander started in surprise. “Are you in your skivvies, sailor?”

“Yes, sir. It appears I am. Out for a breath of air. It was...hot.”

The Captain looked between us for a long moment, frowning. “This better not be what I think it is.”

I was pretty sure I knew what he
thought
it was. But better that than what it
actually
was.

“No, sir. It’s not.”

Both men fell silent and I realized they were waiting for me to say something. The problem was I couldn’t think about anything except the dead fox stuffed up the back of my freaking T-shirt. I was literally seconds from ripping it off and running through the base screaming my head off.

“We were just heading back to the barracks,” Hands said, filling the awkward silence. “Right, Lexi?”

“Ah...” Coherent thought had escaped me. I was frozen to the spot, afraid to move and afraid not to.

Captain Bischoff looked at us again and sighed. “I’m out looking for Fennie. He didn’t come home. Have either of you seen him?”

The fox twitched and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Several freakish possibilities immediately presented themselves: A.) Fennie was turning into a zombie fox, B.) Fennie was undergoing rigor mortis, or C.) Fennie was still alive. It didn’t escape my attention that any of the three meant it was happening while Fennie was trapped beneath my T-shirt.

That fox had to come out
right
now
.

“Aaaagh...” I started.

Perhaps sensing my imminent breakdown, Hands put an arm around me. “Captain, permission requested to take Ms. Carmichael back to the barracks. We need to make final preparations for muster.”

The captain seemed to be considering saying something, but he waved his hand. “Fine. I don’t want to know. Granted.”

“Thank you. Sir.” Hands hustled me away, his hand firmly on the small of my back ensuring the fox didn’t fall out.

“Sailor?”

Hands and I screeched to a stop. “Yes, sir?”

“Good luck tonight.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as we were out of eyesight of the captain, I ripped off my T-shirt, not even caring I didn’t have a bra on and was completely exposed. Hands caught the fox before it hit the ground.

“Are you freaking nuts?” I hissed at him. “You stuck a dead fox up my shirt.”

“Better that than the commander finding us with it.”

“No, actually it’s not. I think it may be still alive.”

“What?”

“Check it again. I felt it moving. It might have been rigor mortis setting in, but better make sure.”

Hands laid the fox on the ground and knelt next to it, feeling its throat for a pulse. The fox suddenly snapped at his finger. Hands was so startled, he fell backward on his bottom.

“Well, hell,” he said. “It’s still alive.”

The fox was weak, certainly near death, but moving. We had almost buried it alive. My stomach clenched.

“Oh, jeez. We’ve got to get it to the hospital right now.”

Hands stood up, brushing the sand off his rear. “No. We’ve got to get to the barracks to get our gear for muster.”

I snatched the flashlight from him. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

“In what universe is fifty minutes plenty of time when we have to get ready for what could be the most important mission since Bin Laden? I don’t have time to explain this to the Captain.”

I searched around on the ground for my T-shirt with Hands’s flashlight. I found it, shook it out several times and pulled it back over my head. It kind of surprised me that at the moment I didn’t give a flying crap about Bin Laden or my naked boobs.

“We can’t leave Fennie like this. You know we can’t. He’s going to die if we don’t do something.”

Hands shifted on his feet, clearly debating. Finally he sighed. “Fine. Let’s get it back to our room and let Wills have a look at it again. He’s a pretty decent medic.”

“How decent a medic
is
Wills? He thought the fox was dead.”

“It’s possible it was. Maybe all of our shaking it around and holding it upside down revived it.”

“True, but if you stick it up my shirt again, I’m
not
playing along.”

Hands scooped it up in his hands, being careful to keep his fingers away from the fox’s mouth. Without another word, we hightailed it back to the barracks. I flung open the door and we barreled inside.

Gray, Wills and Hulk, all fully dressed now, were sitting in the joint living space.

“What the hell is going on?” Gray said, standing. “Why do you still have it?”

Hands gently laid the fox on the coffee table. “It’s a long story. Wills, the fox is still alive.”

“What?” Wills jumped into action. As he pressed his hands to the fox’s neck. Fennie weakly lifted his head.

“Shit. Someone get me my medical kit.”

Hands disappeared and came back with the kit and a pair of pants. As Wills worked on the fox, Hands pulled on his pants. He was still naked from the waist up.

“Hate to put an end to this little party, people,” Hulk said. “Time to muster.”

Wills gave the fox a shot of something and then stood, cradling it in his arms. “I think it’s stable for the moment. I’m going to take it to Jones.”

“Who’s Jones?” I asked.

“Another SEAL medic. He’ll keep it alive until we can take it to the Captain. You all better cover for me if I’m late for muster.”

Hands nodded. “Do it. And watch out. The captain’s out there looking for it.”

“Good to know.” Wills disappeared out the door with the fox.

Hands pointed at me. “You. Get dressed and get your gear together. Don’t grab any more handles or fight off another spider. Pay attention to what you’re doing. Take your time and make sure you have everything. I’ll review the contents of your backpack before we muster, just in case.”

I swallowed. I’d forgotten all about the jump. “Okay.”

I headed back to the bedroom. I still wasn’t convinced there wasn’t a spider in the room, so I carefully examined every single piece of clothing, my boots and my pack. Thankfully, I found nothing. I had just started pulling on my special blue cargo pants when Gray came in.

She sat on my bunk. “I’m so sorry, Lexi. This is my fault. I left the door ajar.”

“No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I had no idea you and Hands were engaged in sexual activities in the bathroom.”

Her cheeks reddened. “Oh, God. That’s it. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to resign from the CIA. I can’t believe I let that happen.”

“Why would you have to resign? You’re both consenting adults, right?”

“It was stupid. It was unprofessional. We should have been thinking of the mission, not of getting it on.”

“Sexual urges can be intensified in trauma situations. You’re understandably nervous about this mission, even if you aren’t physically going on it. Hands, on the other hand, will be in mortal danger. He’s going to be hunted by one of the world’s best snipers while trying to protect an incompetent like me. That has to be stressful. So, you both seized the moment in an attempt to release tension and remind yourselves that you are still alive and can enjoy the sensations. It’s completely and biologically understandable.”

She looked at me in surprise. “Really? You don’t think less of me?”

“Why would I? Hands is obviously attracted to you, and I can see how you would be attracted to him, given his excellent physical condition and masculine capabilities.”

“He calls me Suit. I kind of like it.”

“It must be a SEAL thing. Everyone has to have a nickname.”

“I guess so. But it was still a mistake.”

I rubbed the back of my neck to ease the tension. “Look, Gray, I’ve been reading about the effects of stress on human mating preferences. It turns out that psychosocial stress not only heightens our sexual urges and increases our desire to bond, but it also causes us to widen and strengthen our family social group in order to maximize our ability to survive a threat. What you did is perfectly, biologically normal.”

She gave me an odd look. “Wait. Why are you reading about stress and relationships? Are you having problems with Slash?”

“Whoa. How did you extrapolate that from what I just said?”

She shrugged. “Never mind. The expression on your face is answer enough. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

I sighed. “We aren’t having problems. Not exactly. I mean the sexual urges aren’t a problem. He’s not happy with me being on this mission. We had a fight about it. Plus I don’t know how to integrate him properly into my family’s social group. It’s been a bit bumpy on both sides. I’m still working on it.”

“He’s crazy about you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I’ve watched him. I see the way he looks at you. It’s a mixture of pride, protectiveness and love. But there’s something else. He’s afraid and that’s why he’s holding back.”

I stared at her. “No way. You can’t see all that from just looking at someone.”

“Yes, I can. I’m an excellent observer. CIA analyst and all, you know.”

“Well, you’re wrong. Slash isn’t afraid of anything.”

“Yes, he is.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Then what’s he’s afraid of?”

“That, I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.”

I considered her words. “Gray, I brought that whole stress and sex thing up because I wanted to let you know that it’s natural for you to have wanted to engage in sexual activities with Hands given our current precarious situation. Which reminds me, I hope I didn’t permanently injure him in terms of penile function.”

She giggled. “As mortifying as that entire situation was, I’ll never forget the look on his face when you took him down.”

“Don’t remind me.” I winced. “He’s never going to forgive me.”

She sobered. “So, do you think Hulk and Wills will tell someone about us in the bathroom?”

“What would be the point? Besides, I think SEALs have a code. They’ve got each other’s back. Hands is their team leader, so I can’t imagine them gossiping wildly about it. Now, they might rib him in private about doing a CIA analyst in the bathroom, but I don’t think they’d use names or do it in front of you. They seem too polite for that. So, I think your secret is safe. I would highly recommend you not resigning. You’re obviously a valuable talent for the agency at a time when they are greatly in need.”

She blushed, laughed and then stood. “Leave it to you to put it in stark perspective. Thanks, Lexi. I actually feel better. You’re right. Time to put it behind me and focus on what’s important here.”

“No problem. Anytime. Now speaking of important, can you please tell me how in the world I’m going to jump out of a plane at twelve thousand feet?”

* * *

I had to admit the two V-22 Ospreys were pretty cool-looking aircraft. They each had two vertical propellers sitting on top of barrel-like cylinders and appeared to be a hybrid of an airplane and a helicopter. According to the information Jason, the naval intelligence officer, had provided, the V-22 Osprey had the functionality of a helicopter with the speed of a turboprop airplane. If I hadn’t been so terrified of the impending jump and forthcoming operation, I might have asked to take a peek at the cockpit.

Instead Hands directed me to one of the Ospreys and we climbed inside. He seemed to be walking okay, which made me feel better. The rotors were whirring like a helicopter, beating the air. I glanced at the jump seats that were positioned against the airplane walls in a similar fashion as the military plane on which we’d flown to Djibouti. The other SEALs followed me in. I counted six in all, seven with me. Two teams of three, Captain Bischoff had said. The Alpha and Bravo teams. My call name was Alpha Star when I felt like Alpha Chicken.

The mood was somber. Hands, Wills, Hulk and the other SEALs were completely in the zone. There was no more joking, no more ribbing. It was time for serious business. People could die. People would likely die, maybe even me, despite what Gray had said. I thought about Slash and imagined him in the conference room, watching and listening to the mission over the radio feed. Knowing he was out there somewhere thinking about me and willing the mission to succeed strengthened me. I reached up and touched one of the earrings he’d given me.

Wow. I missed him. A lot.

Before we’d left, Hands checked all of my equipment twice and then had gone through every pocket to make sure I had what I was supposed to have. I’d tested and re-tested the laptop. As a group we’d done a communications check and review. My gun was in a holster on my belt. I’d been told repeatedly to stay close to the team and follow every direction to the letter. We were as ready as we were going to get, whatever that meant.

My helmet felt heavy on my head even without the night goggles. Hands had put those in my backpack, which was now strapped to my stomach. I tried not to be too worried about the fact that Hands had been identified as my jump partner. I’d be harnessed to him for the jump and could only trust he wouldn’t unhook me and let me fall to my death. Static and talking played over the helmet radio as the ground team continued to test the communications equipment.

I was the first to sit in the jump seat. My stomach churned madly and I sincerely hoped I didn’t throw up. Whereas these guys had been training both physically and mentally for this type of operation, I had neither the confidence nor belief I could actually pull this off, especially the jump.

Captain Bischoff boarded the plane and shook all our hands after giving us a pep talk reminding us of our responsibilities to the mission and each other. My responsibility was to do exactly what Hands and the other SEALs told me to do and nothing else. It sounded easy, but somehow I didn’t think it would be a walk in the park.

Faster than seemed possible, the Captain left, the door closed and the engines revved up even louder. I felt the aircraft leave the ground and I closed my eyes.