Operation Summer Storm (8 page)

Read Operation Summer Storm Online

Authors: Karlene Blakemore-Mowle

Tags: #Romance, #Suspense, #helicopters, #Pacific Ocean, #romantic, #Bali, #Hostage, #military romance, #Hawaii, #Cambodia, #mission, #extraction, #guns, #Operation Summer Storm, #jungle, #Karlene Blakemore-Mowle, #Marines, #Dog- tags, #special forces, #rescue

BOOK: Operation Summer Storm
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Pandemonium broke loose. The three men scattered in various directions as Del leapt swearing and cursing on top of a nearby crate. “Holy shit—it’s a King cobra.”

The snake with its olive and brown markings and evil eyes had Del firmly in its sights. He remained on his perch watching the reptile warily.

“Be careful Steve,” Tupper mimicked the crocodile hunter’s ever-patient wife and Summer mentally shook her head that even in a serious situation like this they could joke around.

“You have an entire arsenal at your disposal; shoot it,” Summer pointed out from the table. She couldn’t believe she’d almost touched it.

“That’s not an option. The crate Del’s standing on is full of ammo,” Tate pointed out calmly from his position beside her, still standing with manly bravado on the ground, unlike her.

“We’re sleeping next to things that could blow up?” She forgot for a moment about the snake and stared with equal horror at the box Del crouched upon.

“Only if you shoot at it.”

“Well, someone should do something. It looks more than a little unhappy.”

The reptile swerved its flattened head about and became noticeably more agitated now that it realized it was cornered.

“Feel free to jump in at any time,” Del offered dryly.

The tension in the room was broken by the sudden appearance of the old mechanic carrying a large metal bar. Without a word he pinned the snake to the ground and scooped it into a Hessian bag, then sent them all a scornful glance before disappearing back outside to melt back into the shadows.

“Well…someone’s been watching too much Crocodile hunter,” Summer murmured beneath her breath and caught Tate’s reluctant smirk. Picking up the sleeping bag, she cautiously gave it another shake and shivered in repulsion. What if there were more?

From the doorway, Tate leaned against the doorjamb and gave a small twitch of his lips. “Do you want me to tuck you in princess?” he drawled.

Turning to face him, Summer smiled sweetly. “No thanks. I’ve had enough snakes in my bed for one night.”

* * * *

The next afternoon, the monstrosity of a plane was rolled out and ready for boarding.

Inside a bench stretched along two thirds of the planes sides. Huge cargo nets rigged up across the back section of the plane stopped equipment shifting during the flight.

“Now all we need is the flight attendants with the drinks trolley,” Summer muttered beneath her breath as she found a place to sit on the uncomfortable looking seats.

“Sorry, these are the cheap seats,” Maloney joked from beside her.

Del walked from the cockpit. “Ladies and gentlemen, your flight is now ready for take-off. Please put your seats and trays in an upright position, and enjoy your flight,” he announced.

The big plane’s engines roared to life making it almost impossible to hear anything above the din. The plane lumbered down toward the end of the strip and did a slow circle, gathering speed down the runway. Summer’s ears hurt as the engines screamed and the plane picked up speed. Just when she thought her eardrums would burst, the big beast left the ground and climbed toward the darkening night sky.

The constant droning of the plane soon lulled her into an exhausted sleep. She hadn’t slept a wink last night after her up close and personal encounter with the snake, even with four big marines sleeping in the room with her. She woke with a start when Maloney tapped her on the shoulder a few hours later.

“Up and at em,” he yelled over the noise.

The mood on board the plane had changed dramatically since she’d fallen asleep; the men now looked somber…focused. She felt goose bumps break out along her arms. The time had come. This was it. A nervous fluttering began in the pit of her stomach.

What on Earth had she gotten herself into?

* * * *

Cambodian Jungle,

Cambodia

The movement on board increased and she noticed the men dragging the equipment from the cargo bay.

“Doesn’t that have to be stored back there until we land?” she asked Tupper, thinking a spot of turbulence with heavy boxes loose in the plane didn’t sound like a good combination.

Tupper gave her a quick grin, “We aren’t going to land.”

Summer took a closer look at what the men were up to, and felt her stomach clench with a sick sensation. “What’s going on?”

“We’re jumping,” Del explained with a shrug, as if it were totally obvious.

“From the plane?” she yelped, in disbelief.

“That’s the general idea,” Maloney piped up.

Summer swiveled to find Tate and staggered her way against the unsteady gait of the plane to stand before him. “You didn’t tell me anything about jumping out of a plane,” she yelled, over the noise.

“You didn’t ask,” he shouted back.

Summer stared at him in disbelief, “So I’m going to land with the plane?” she asked hopefully.

“Only if you’ve changed your mind and want to make the return trip back to the island with the plane tonight.”

Summer stared at him helplessly, “I can’t parachute,” at least she assumed they were going to use parachutes—then again—who’d know, with this lot. “I don’t know how.”

“You won’t have to.”

“Then how am I getting off the plane?” she asked becoming more exasperated by the minute.

“Step into this,” he said, holding out a black harness contraption.

Summer stared at it for a second, and then started to back away. Oh God, she hated heights. How on Earth was she going to do this?

“Summer.”

“But—”

He took a step toward her, and helped her into the harness while she still appeared dazed. “Now, turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around,” he repeated, slowly circling a finger in the air to demonstrate.

Summer caught the look in his eye and decided not to argue. She stiffened as Tate reached around her and began hooking various gadgets and buckles together—deftly working around certain areas—areas that were not used to being…worked around.

“Just what—” Summer asked through tightly clenched teeth, “—do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re jumping with me,” he informed her in a calm tone.

“I told you I don’t know how!”

“You’re jumping…with me,” he repeated as if to a slow-witted person.

The meaning became clear and alarm followed a brief sense of relief as she realized the extent of what ‘with him’ involved. She’d seen enough TV reports on tandem sky jumping to know just how close the two jumpers got. She didn’t, however, have any more time to think about it because all of a sudden it was time to do it.

A large door opened and the noise she’d thought couldn’t get any louder just did. The others were busy throwing the equipment through the doorway when Tate leaned close to her ear so she could hear him.

“Usually this would be a, half hour run through before your jump but we don’t have time. So, here’s the condensed version. When I tap your shoulder, spread out your arms and legs. When I tap again to land, bring them in again. Okay?”

Summer stared back at him in disbelief; her thoughts bordering on hysteria. He expected her to jump out of a plane with thirty seconds of training?

They moved closer to the doorway and Summer froze. Her palms began to sweat and there were strange little dots floating before her eyes which she knew
couldn

t
be normal!
She was standing in the open doorway of a moving aircraft!.

Tate put his arms around her and coaxed her stiff fingers from the side of the door frame. “Just relax. I’ll take care of you,” his deep voice promised as he shouted over the thundering noise around them into her ear.

She felt his big body pressed tightly against her back. “You better not be doing this for some kind of cheap thrill buddy because, I swear, if we make it down there alive, you’ll live to regret every moment,” she shouted back at him.

“Darlin’ there ain’t nothing cheap about the thrill I’m getting at the moment,” he assured her. “If we don’t make it,” he added with a deep drawl, “—just know I’ve died a happy man.”

Summer’s un-lady like retort froze in her throat as they fell through the opened doorway into the abyss.

Opening her mouth to scream, Summer found to her terror she couldn’t breathe. The cold air rushed with brutal force against her face. Somehow she managed to get her mouth to shut and lungs to function once more, but she couldn’t see a thing. Complete darkness surrounded her. For this small mercy she was eternally grateful, however a new set of fears soon surfaced to replace it.

Tate tapped her shoulder and for a fraction of a second, she forgot what to do. Tentatively she tried moving her frozen limbs out—fighting against the enormous pressure pushing against them.

How would he see the ground? Surely Tate would have some kind of gadget, to tell how far they were up. It was obvious he’d done this before and survived. Then before she knew it, thanks to the moonlight, she saw the ground rapidly approaching. Tate’s second tap made her pull her arms back in, crossing them in front of her tightly.

Shutting her eyes at the last minute, Summer whispered a desperate prayer that the snapping of her limbs wouldn’t be too painful. Her feet touched the ground for the briefest of moments before she was again lifted and dragged like a rag doll across the rough terrain. Then mercifully it stopped. The silence of the eerie night around her was broken only by her harsh breathing as she lay on her back and tried to catch her breath. Above her the sky was a dark, an endless blanket of black. Still trying to come to terms with the fact that she’d just fallen from the sky—she’d completely forgotten about Tate until she felt him moving beneath her.

“Thanks for breaking my fall,” she gasped, moving her limbs to see if anything had been broken.

“Anytime,” Tate answered with a small grunt. “But if you don’t mind —I have to get up.” He rolled, tipping them both sideways so he could unfasten the buckles. Once they were released, Tate gathered up the parachute in his arms and bundled it together.

He shrugged a large black lethal-looking gun from where he had strapped it to his back and Summer gaped. Up close, those things were terrifying and she tried to cover her shock with a joke. “So, it was a gun in your pocket after all.”

Tate was busy scanning the terrain, but spared her a brief, wolf-like grin, “No it wasn’t,” he said, dropping his voice, and swooping to take her lips in a brief kiss that managed to send an electric shock all the way down to her toes. Giving her no time to react he grabbed her hand and started to run toward the shadowy figures of the other three men, who’d landed and were gathering the dropped equipment.

Packs were distributed and shrugged on, guns and ammunition passed around and various assortments of military paraphernalia stored in every conceivable pocket, or flap the packs contained.

Summer needed help putting on her backpack and even though she was sure only a minimum of essentials were in there, it was heavy. Still numb from Tate’s unexpected show of emotion, Summer eyed him curiously as he brushed past her, pausing only to inform her they were moving out.

Okay, if that’s the way we’re going to play it,
she thought. It was obvious the kiss was something he had already forgotten. Fine. It didn’t mean a thing to her, either.

They walked for an hour, stopping only long enough to take a drink but it would be another two hours before they took their first real break. Summer noticed no one else took the opportunity to sit down but she wasn’t about to pass up the chance to rest her tired feet. She found the water bottle strapped to the outside of the pack and took a drink.

“We have to make it further up into the mountains before daybreak. Think you can manage?” Del asked, coming to squat down on his haunches beside her.

“I’ll manage,” she said, hoping she sounded confident. Now if she could only convince her legs to keep walking, she’d be fine. She got to her feet as the men started to move and found Tate standing above her, looking down at her with a foreboding frown plastered across his rugged face.

“You didn’t think this was going to be a Sunday stroll did you?” he asked with a distinct chill in his voice.

She was hot, tired and cranky and he’d picked the wrong time to give her grief. “Yes, as a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I thought,” she snapped back at him. What was his problem?

He raised an eyebrow sending her an ‘I-told-you-so-look’ but Summer cut him off before he could voice anything else that would drive her to inflict grievous bodily harm upon him.

“Look, none of us are in a wonderful situation here, okay? But if you don’t get off my back...” she stopped mid-sentence and tried to come up with a threat, horrible enough to intimidate a mercenary, then realized she couldn’t so she chose to go on the attack from a different angle. “By the way, next time you feel an urge to maul me again…don’t.”

“Maul you?” he scoffed. “Honey, if you don’t know the difference between a kiss, and a maul—maybe it’s about time someone showed you,” he shot back.

Summer’s heart thumped at the thought of him repeating the earlier kiss and snapped, “Just get my sister back. If you can’t control yourself, then stay the hell away from me.”

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