Protecting the Future (SEAL of Protection Book 8) (7 page)

BOOK: Protecting the Future (SEAL of Protection Book 8)
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There were six men already in the truck when their little group climbed aboard, each of the six were holding AK-47 assault rifles. No one spoke to her, but they did talk with each other. Penelope had no idea what was being said, but she had a very bad feeling about what was about to happen.

She looked at the blindfolded man and hoped like hell they’d both make it out alive.

Chapter Seven

A
nother video
of kidnapped American Penelope Turner has surfaced. ISIS posted it on their webpage sometime last night. In the video, an Australian soldier is shown being led to an unknown location and being forced to lean over a large boulder. He was blindfolded and had his arms tied behind his back.

The Australian government says the man is Thomas Bauer, a lieutenant in the Australian Army. He was apparently taken two days ago from the same refugee camp where Turner and the other murdered Americans had been working. As a result of the multiple kidnappings and murders, most countries have ceased humanitarian efforts in the region and are quietly pulling out their troops.

In the video, Bauer isn’t given a chance to say anything, but is beheaded after a man in a mask reads a manifesto of some sort in Arabic. Immediately after the murder, a woman, believed to be Penelope Turner, reads a long letter, presumably written by the terrorists, denouncing Australia’s partnership with the West, specifically the United States, and warning there will be more kidnappings and beheadings to come, all in the name of Allah.

Several Islamic religious groups in the Washington DC area have converged in a peaceful march to show the world, and the U.S., that their religion does not preach hate and to show they are not in support of what ISIS is doing in the name of their God.

Cade Turner, the brother of the kidnapped Sergeant Turner, will be on an hour-long special broadcast tonight to discuss the latest development and what it might mean for his sister.

C
aroline sat transfixed
, staring at the television. She’d been trying to follow the case of the missing American soldier, but every time she saw or heard anything, it made her stomach hurt. She knew, deep in her gut, the guys were over there trying to find her. She felt horrible for the woman’s brother. He was on all the talk and news shows. She hoped like hell Matthew and the team could bring her home, but Caroline was selfish. She wanted her man home, where he was safe.

She couldn’t talk about what she thought was going on or where she figured the men were with the other women, so as not to worry them, and it was eating her up inside.

The phone rang, scaring the bejeezus out of Caroline. She laughed a bit and muted the television and answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Caroline. It’s Melody. How are you?”

“Melody! It’s great to hear from you! I’m good. How are you and Tex and Akilah?”

“We’re good. Tex actually found a therapist who speaks Arabic. I really think it’s helped her.”

“That’s awesome. I totally need to take a trip out there to see you all. Hell, without any drama the last two years, I’ve missed talking to Tex.”

“I’ll tell him to call you more often.” Melody paused, then asked, “How is everyone holding up? How are
you
holding up?”

“It’s tough. I miss Matthew more than ever, and with Cheyenne being about to pop any day now, I know she’s more stressed than she’s ever been. Of course everyone is trying to hide it, and doing a crap job of it.”

Melody laughed lightly. “If it makes you feel any better, Tex has been holed up in the basement with his computers for the last two weeks since they left.”

Caroline sighed. “Actually, yeah, that does make me feel a lot better. I know Tex is there and they are…wherever they are…but knowing he’s watching over the guys makes me feel better.”

“And you.”

“What?”

“He’s watching over you and the others too.”

“And I appreciate that. After everything that’s happened to us in the past, it’s good.”

“What I’m saying is that Tex will know if Cheyenne goes to the hospital, so he can get word to the guys. When that baby starts coming, don’t worry about taking the time to call Commander Hurt. Tex will take care of it.”

“Thanks. Please tell Tex thanks too.”

“You know I will.”

“Melody, have you been watching the news?” Caroline knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but since Melody wasn’t technically a SEAL wife—Tex was retired, after all—she didn’t feel as if she was breaking the unspoken rules as badly as if she’d brought up her concerns with any of her friends there in California. Caroline wasn’t a SEAL, so she wasn’t under any obligation to keep any of her guesses as to where the men were or what they were doing to herself, but in order to spare her friends, they had enough on their minds, she decided to speak to Melody about it.

“Yeah. Anything specifically?”

“Penelope Turner.”

“Ah.”

Caroline waited for Melody to say something else.

“That’s a sucky situation.”

“Do you think they’ll find her?”

“Yeah. If anyone can, they can.”

And there it was. Additional confirmation that what Caroline had thought was true. She knew Tex most likely wasn’t sharing details with Melody, he was as secretive as anyone she’d ever met, but Melody was smart. She could read between the lines just as well as Caroline could. The guys
were
in Turkey. They
were
looking for the missing soldier. And they
were
most likely in a lot of danger. Just the thought of ISIS getting hold of a SEAL made Caroline shudder in horror.

“I’m scared, Melody,” she whispered, as if the very words spoken aloud would make something horrible happen.

“Me too. You keep it hidden well though. You’re the glue that holds the girls together. They all rely on you, Caroline. You’re their rock.”

“I know,” Caroline whispered. “I don’t know if I’m worthy of it though.”

“You are. You know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because you’re scared out of your mind, but you aren’t letting on. You’re going to work, you’re babysitting, you’re going out with them to keep their mind off of their men. You’re probably Cheyenne’s new breathing coach since Dude isn’t there…right?” Melody didn’t wait for Caroline to respond. “That’s
your
posse, and nothing is going to touch them as long as you’re around.” It wasn’t a question.

“I
am
scared.”

“Of course you are. I’d be worried about you if you weren’t.”

“Matthew is
my
rock. I depend on him. I lean on him. I’m good when he’s not here because I know he’ll be back and I can let some of my worries and responsibilities slide. He’ll pick up the slack. But this time—”

“No, don’t even say it.”

“But—”

“No. I mean it, Caroline. You can’t think that way. Ever. But here’s what I know.
You’re
the rock. You just think Matthew is because he’s your match, but in reality, you are
his
rock. Remember back to when you were kidnapped. Jesus, Caroline, you were beaten, shot and left to die in the freaking ocean. But you didn’t. You held on. For Matthew. Don’t you think he’d move heaven and earth to come back to you?”

Caroline sobbed once, then ruthlessly controlled it. Melody was right. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

A short laugh escaped Caroline. “When are you coming to visit again?”

“Actually, that’s why I called in the first place. Tex basically ordered me out of the house. I’d like to come visit and bring Akilah, if at all possible.”

“Hell yeah. I’d love to see you guys. The basement apartment is always open for you.”

“Thanks. I didn’t think you’d say no. Tex already got us tickets.”

They both laughed. “It’ll be good to see you, Mel,” Caroline said honestly. “I could use a distraction.”

“That’s me…one distraction, coming right up.”

“Thanks. Send me the details and I’ll be sure to be waiting at the airport for you. I’ll also tell the girls. Maybe it’ll give Cheyenne some incentive to hold that baby inside for a while longer, although I’m not sure Faulkner is gonna make it home in time.”

“I don’t know either, but you never know, they might get lucky.”

Chapter Eight

H
ell
, we might just get lucky,
Wolf thought to himself as he and Dude scoured the most likely area where Penelope was being held. After the Australian soldier had been killed, the SEAL teams had doubled their efforts to find any kind of clue Penelope might be leaving behind. The international forces that were at the camp were slowly pulling out, because the danger finally outweighed the benefits of being there. Their exit made the SEALs’ existence at the camp shaky. Being the only western-looking soldiers there wasn’t a good thing and made them stand out like sore thumbs.

ISIS was still using Penelope as their spokesperson, and it was effective as hell. Wolf knew the news channels all over the world would have no problem showing the petite, fragile-looking woman reading the manifestos the terrorists had written. It was a great way to get the word out to the world and to spread their hate.

The SEALs were
not
happy that she was obviously present at the last beheading, and hated how her voice had quavered while she’d read ISIS’s hateful words right after the Australian soldier had been killed. She might be a soldier and trained for combat, but she was also a woman, and every man on the teams wanted to shield her from what she was obviously seeing and going through.

But while she had to be scared out of her mind, she was also holding on. She was smart. It’d taken Bubba, another Virginia SEAL team member, and Mozart two days to find all of her subtle clues. She was anchoring a piece of the pink cloth to the bottom outside edge of the tent she was most likely being held in. She probably reached under the tarp from the inside and secured it so it could be seen from the outside. It wasn’t obvious; Bubba was the first to find the small clue, and Mozart wasn’t sure at first it was even a clue at all.

But after Mozart found another attached to the back side of a tent not too far from the first, it was as obvious as if she’d stood up and screamed, ‘Here I am!’”

It’d taken a week to determine any kind of pattern and to find as many clues as possible, but when all her pink so-called flags had been marked on the map, the pattern was clear. How many nights she was being kept at each tent was unknown and probably varied, but it looked as if they were simply rotating her to the same tents over and over again.

Both teams were on reconnaissance that night. They had to figure out which tent Sergeant Turner was being held in, and plan the best way to get her out. They would find her tonight, and tomorrow they’d get the fuck out of dodge.

There were five teams of two searching the camp, and two men back at the command tent waiting for information. Wolf and Dude slowly made their way toward their objective. Wolf thought there was a pretty good chance Penelope would be there because, after analyzing the probability and knowing where she’d been, and when, this tent hadn’t been used in a couple of days. It was due.

Occasionally tripping over objects left in their path, the men heard snoring, groaning, moaning, and the occasional unmistakable sound of sex as they made their way through the dark passageways of the camp. They’d reached the end of the row of tents they were searching and the light of the morning sunrise was about to peek over the horizon.

The men stopped in their tracks at the sound of English somewhere nearby. They hadn’t heard English being spoken by anyone outside their team since they’d arrived at the camp. They stopped to listen. The voice was faint and irritated and they could only hear part of what was being said.

“Motherfuckers. What’s … so goddamn long? I’ve left … breadcrumbs for a fucking child to find... Are they incompetent or what?”

The mutterings continued, and Wolf and Dude smiled at each other. They were so thankful to hear what had to be Sergeant Penelope Turner’s irritated voice, they didn’t even care she’d been disparaging them. Hell, her feisty attitude was a welcome sound. It would hopefully be much easier to rescue her than if she was beaten down and terrified. They’d take a pissed-off soldier, ready to get the hell out, over a hysterical, crying woman any day of the week.

“Rover five to CT.” Wolf’s voice was low and barely audible as he spoke into his radio.

“This is CT.”

“Target located.”

“Repeat.”

“Target. Fucking. Located,” Wolf enunciated again into the radio, not able to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice this time.

“You’re cutting out, but did I hear Target located? Confirm.” Cookie’s voice was also hushed, but Wolf could hear the excitement cutting through his no-nonsense words anyway.

“Affirmative.”

“Copy that. Target located and location marked. Will notify other rovers. Out.”

Wolf clipped the radio to his belt and motioned to Dude. They slunk back through the dark the way they’d come. They hated to leave Penelope, but they had a rescue to plan, they couldn’t go by the seat of their pants on this one. No way would they risk losing her that way.

By this time tomorrow, they’d all be well on their way to the Special Forces base at Yuksekova, about two hundred miles east, and then on their way home. Halle-fucking-lujah.

P
enelope sat
on the ground in the newest tent she’d been moved to, drew her knees up in front of her and clasped her hands around them. For what seemed like the millionth time, she pushed her hair out of her face. She’d literally kill someone for a shower. If they were standing between her and fresh, clean water—cold or hot didn’t matter at this point—she’d use her bare hands to kill them to get at it. But a shower was so far outside what she could imagine happening, it wasn’t even funny.

Her hair felt greasy and nasty and she had several snarls in it that she knew would take a miracle to get out without cutting off all her hair. Her hands were gray with dirt and her fingernails were torn and ragged and had dirt caked under them. She itched, and figured she probably had lice or some other nasty bug infestation. The hair on her legs and under her arms was long and she sometimes felt like a hairy beast. But she was alive. And she’d stay that way as long as she could and would endure bugs, dirt, and body hair that was way too long for her comfort for as long as it’d take to be rescued.

But it was the thirst that was the hardest thing to endure. The heat of the desert, along with the hot-as-hell tents she’d been holed up in, were finally starting to wear her body down. She wasn’t even sweating anymore and the few times she’d broken down, she didn’t even have enough extra water in her body for tears to fall from her eyes. Her muscles frequently cramped up from lack of water. Penelope knew her body would continue to slowly shut down if she didn’t get more water. She’d been drinking questionable warm water for weeks now. She’d been really sick the first few weeks, but figured her body had acclimated to whatever organisms were swimming in the little water she did get. But it wasn’t enough. It was
never
enough.

The night before, when she’d been moved, had been different. She hadn’t seen any of the men who’d been in charge of her before, and the men who’d moved her had been way more “handsy” than anyone had been in the past. Penelope didn’t think that boded well for her future.

She thought about her brother again. Cade wouldn’t allow the government to forget about her, or give up, of that she had no doubt. Even if she was killed over here in the desert, Cade would make sure she was remembered. Hell, he’d probably lobby to get her name added to history books or something. Penelope knew she was tired when she didn’t even smile at the thought.

When Cade had decided to be a firefighter, Penelope decided she’d be one too. He hadn’t laughed, or tried to talk her out of it, he encouraged and bullied her until she’d made it. When she’d thought about going into the Reserves, again, he’d encouraged her and told her she’d be awesome at whatever she decided to do with her life. Cade made her a better human being and was the one person Penelope longed to see again. As one of her best friends,
he
was who she missed the most.

Penelope knew she wasn’t the tallest woman in the world, and that most people underestimated her. She was strong. Well, she
used
to be strong, before she’d been underfed, confined, and not able to work out other than the occasional sit-ups and pushups. She wasn’t looking her best at the moment; months with no shower would do that to a person. But she wasn’t going to give up. Not until a bullet was entering her brain or a big-ass machete was cutting her head from her shoulders.

She remembered how the Australian soldier hadn’t fought or cried. He’d been stoic, almost resigned to the fact he was going to die. Penelope had no idea if she’d be able to be as calm as he was when it was her turn to face death. She’d most likely fight like hell until her captors managed to kill her.

She’d taken up talking to herself, if nothing else, simply to hear the English language. “I’ll never complain about someone talking too much again. I’d give anything to have a real conversation with someone. Forget the pigeon-English shit.”

Penelope put her head down on her knees and tried to ignore the warmth of the tent she was in. As the sun rose high in the sky, so did the temperature. Because she couldn’t sweat, she dreamed about the days when she came out of training or got through with working out, covered in sweat, and tilted up her water bottle to quench her thirst.

One day at a time. She had to make it through one day at a time. Someone would find her. They had to. She was slowly losing her mind.

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