SEALs Honor (14 page)

Tuck
refused to see the medic, heading straight for Commander Backus. The operation
had gone south and he suspected the reason was more than coincidence. They'd
been set up. The trip wire and the writing on the wall said it all. If Reaper
hadn't stumbled on it when he did, both teams might have been caught in the
explosion. As it was, Reaper was the main casualty in the operation. The damage
could have been much worse. Not that Reaper's life and health were any less
important, but his sacrifice had saved the lives of the other men on the team.
Cory was, unwittingly, a hero.

"You
look like shit." Commander Backus greeted him with a handshake. "Glad
you all made it back alive. I understand the op wasn't good."

"We
need to check out the Afghani informant. I suspect he was part of this whole
scam."

The
commander's jaw tightened. "Can't."

"Can't?
Why?"

"He's
missing."

"So
it was a set up."

"The
man we captured last night hung himself right after the teams left in the
helicopter."

"Fuck.
Why didn't we get recalled?"

"We
didn't discover our dead captive until after the shit hit the fan. By then, it
was too late." Backus's glance raked over Tuck. "I want you to report
to the hospital."

"I'm
fine."

"That's
an order."

"Sir,
all I need is a shower. Reaper—"

"Is
going to pull through."

Tuck
clenched his jaw. "Sir, his arm."

"I
heard." The commander's lips pressed together. "The docs will do
their best to save it."

Tuck
shook his head, knowing there wasn't anything anyone could do to save what was
left of Reaper's arm. "Sir, that should have been me."

"What?"
Backus stepped back, drawing himself up to his full height of six feet four
inches, an inch taller than Tuck and every bit as intimidating a man as any
SEAL could wish to be. "Did you tell him to trip over that wire?"

"No,
sir, but—"

"We
didn't sign on to be SEALs to wallow in self-pity or self-blame. Reaper won't,
I guarantee it. And I don't expect you to, either."

Tuck
opened his mouth to argue his point, but one look at his commander's face and
he snapped his jaw shut. Backus was right. They didn't have room for
second-guessing. What was done was done. No amount of regret would bring back
Reaper's arm.

"Reaper
is a SEAL. Whatever he has to deal with, he'll make it. We only train the best
of the best." Backus led Tuck to the door and opened it. "I'll walk
with you."

"Sir,
I can make it on my own."

"And
I don't give a rat's ass if you can or not. I'm checking on Reaper."
Backus jerked his head. "Now, move."

Commander
Backus knew exactly what to say to snap Tuck out of his funk. He walked tall,
despite the pain in his ankle, just now flaring up as the adrenaline subsided.
And the stinging bite he'd felt in the field outside that village probably was
a bullet lodged in his leg. No matter the pain, he refused to show any sign of
it. His injuries were minor. He'd keep all his limbs and live to fight another
day.

The
way he saw it, Reaper's days as a Navy SEAL were over. Tuck couldn't imagine
what his life would be like if he couldn't be a SEAL. They were the family he'd
never had. His brothers. He was closer to these men than he was to his father
and mother, or his half-brothers from his mother's second and third marriages.

SEAL
Team 10 was everything to him. Until Delaney had come along, he couldn't
picture himself with anyone he loved more.

The
woman in his thoughts waited outside the hospital tent, pacing.

Backus
and Tuck stopped in front of her.

"Captain
O'Connell." The navy commander held out a hand and Delaney took it. "I'm
sorry to hear about the loss of Captain Kuntz, Lieutenant Metzger, Sergeants
Ketchum and DeSpain. The recovery team is on its way back with their remains."

"Thank
you, Sir." She let go of his hand and rubbed her arms as if she were cold.
"At least, the families will have some closure."

"Any
news on Reaper?" Tuck asked, looking for his answer in her expression.

Delaney
glanced at the commander, refusing to meet Tucks' gaze. "A nurse came out
a few minutes ago. She expects them to be with him for at least an hour. As
soon as they stabilize him, they're sending him back to Landstuhl."

"Some
of the best surgeons in the world are stationed there," Commander Backus
said. "He'll be in good hands."

Nodding,
Delaney continued. "They've got a critical care air transport team and a
C-17 on standby, waiting for him in Bagram."

The
news hit Tuck with a complex sense of relief and sadness. He and Reaper had
been through BUD/s training together. From the moment they'd graduated
training, they'd been assigned to Team 10 and hadn't been separated since. The
sense of loss hit him hard, weakening his knees. If he'd been alone, he might
have given in and dropped. With his commander and Delaney standing close by, he
couldn't. He was a SEAL. SEALs didn't show weakness.

He
sent a silent prayer to the heavens. God, help Reaper and while you're at it,
help me be strong for him. With Delaney at his side, the man would be okay.

Tuck
didn't want to think whether or not
he'd
be okay. He couldn't picture
Delaney with Reaper. In the back of the Black Hawk helicopter on the way to
their mission, he'd convinced himself he couldn't live without her.

Now
he'd have to.

Cory
woke once after the doctors amputated the shattered arm, cleaned his wounds,
and packed them with pressure bandages.

Delaney
was there when his eyes blinked open three hours later.

"O'Connell?"

"Yeah,
Cory. I'm here." She leaned over his bed and smiled downward. The nurses
had done a good job bandaging his face. Thankfully, none of the shrapnel had
hit his eyes, but he'd have scars on his forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin.
They'd just give him more character.

"My
arm hurts like hell." He shifted his shoulder and lifted his head to get a
look at it.

Delaney
touched his chest. "Lie back. I'll talk to the nurse about upping the pain
meds." She turned to flag down a nurse.

Cory
snagged her arm with his left hand. "Why can't I move my arm?"

Her
heart broke as she struggled to come up with the words to tell him he'd never
move that arm again.

"What's
wrong? Why the sad face? Am I paralyzed?" He lifted the other arm, I.V.
tubes and all. "Don't lie to me. Give it to me straight."

She
sucked in a deep breath. "The explosion destroyed your right arm. The
doctors couldn't save it. They had to..." She couldn't say the word
amputate
.
"They had to remove it."

Cory's
brows drew together for a moment, then he lay back, a smile curving his lips. "Is
that all? And here I thought the injury was serious." He lay still for a
few seconds.

Delaney
thought he'd slipped into unconsciousness again until he spoke.

"How's
Tuck?"

"He's
okay. Took a bullet to the leg. I believe the medics had to sit on him to make
him stay still long enough to pull it out."

Cory
chuckled once, his brows twisting. "Remind me not to laugh. Hurts. And the
others?"

"All
the SEALs made it out."

His
eyes opened. "Who didn't?"

"The
other helicopter crew."

"Damn."

"The
main thing is for you to get better. They're moving you soon. You get a first-class
plane ride to Landstuhl then back to the States."

"Always
wanted to go to Germany," he said, his voice fading.

"Sorry,
you won't get to tour this time. Unless you count the inside of the hospital."

"Maybe
for our honeymoon."

"About
that..." Delaney started, not sure of what she wanted to say. The truth
would be best. She turned and paced the length of his bed. "When I agreed
to marry you, I wasn't thinking straight. I was worried about you and said what
I thought you wanted to hear. The thing is, I love you, but like a brother. So
you see, you don't want to marry me. I'm not the right girl for you. You
deserve someone who will love you like a husband." Delaney spun to face
Cory to gauge his reaction.

He
lay as still as death, his breathing shallow, his skin pale from the loss of so
much blood. As far as Delaney knew, he hadn't heard a word of her confession.

And
as far as she was concerned, he never should. Losing an arm would be hard
enough to recover from. Losing an arm and a fiancé at the same time was setting
him up to fail. And failure meant death.

Her
heart aching, Delaney sat beside Cory, loving him like a brother while she
longed for Tuck's arms to be around her, his voice reassuring her everything
would be all right.

Captain
Swinson stopped beside her. "They're getting ready to move him. If you're
going with him, you might want to pack a bag."

Delaney
stood and glanced down at Cory.

"Don't
worry, I'll stay with him until you get back."

"Thanks."
Delaney hugged the other woman and hurried out of the hospital, breathing in
the fresh desert air. The sun was just beginning to rise, bathing the camp in a
golden haze.

Tired,
disheartened, and worried, she hurried to her tent, packed her rucksack with
the essentials and a change of uniform, and returned to the hospital. All the
way there and back, she glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tuck.

When
she arrived back at the hospital, they had Cory loaded onto the big wheeled
gurney, a medic carrying the IV still attached to his arm. They loaded him into
the back of an ambulance and made room for Delaney. She slipped onto a bench
next to the medic who hung the IV over the collapsible gurney.

The
ride to the helicopter pad passed quickly. Too quickly. Soon, they'd be on
their way to Bagram and from there to Landstuhl. She might never see Tuck
again, and she hadn't had the opportunity to say goodbye.

At
the helicopter pad, the transfer went without a hitch and the pilot shook hands
with Delaney. "Heard what happened. Sorry about the crew."

"Me,
too."

"I'll
try to make the ride as painless as possible."

"Thanks."
Delaney climbed on board and behind the pilot, the experience of
riding
in a helicopter so much different than
flying
it.

"Wait!"
A shout sounded over the sound of the rotor blades building up speed and one of
the medics closed the sliding door.

"Wait!"
Across the tarmac, Tuck ran, wearing gym shorts, T-shirt, and tennis shoes, his
thick, muscular legs covered in swaths of orange Betadine and patches of
stitches. One of the ground crew clotheslined him, bringing him to a halt
before he could get close enough to the blades now in motion.

Delaney
started to unhook her harness, but the helicopter lifted off, the pilot’s focus
already on the task ahead, unaware of the man waving frantically. Get the patient
to Bagram safely and swiftly. The sooner he got out of the theater, the sooner
he'd get the specialized help he'd need to survive.

Helpless
to stop the chopper from rising, knowing slowing the trip would only put Cory
in more danger, Delaney watched through the scuffed window as Tuck became a
tiny dot in the middle of the airfield. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

Delaney's
life was now on a different course. Cory would be her focus until he was well
enough to manage on his own.

One month later.

 "Cory,
you have to do it. I can’t go back until I know you’ll be okay." Delaney
stood beside Cory in the large room dedicated to rehabilitation of wounded
soldiers.

His
face burned red, sweat popping out as he tried to pull the long rubber strap
toward him using what was left of his right arm. When it was only halfway, he
let go and growled. "Fuck this!"

A
pretty blond physical therapist stepped up to him. "Cory, the only way
you’ll get better is to fight past the pain, and use those muscles that haven’t
been used in a month. Now do it." Her voice was soft but firm, her lips
set in a thin line. Petite and delicate-looking she might be, but she wasn’t
taking anything less than Cory’s best.

"You’re
new here, aren’t you?" Delaney asked.

"Yes,
ma’am." She placed the rubber strap over Cory’s arm and stepped back. "My
name’s Leigha. I’ll be Cory's physical therapist for the next few weeks."

 "I
don’t want a different therapist," Cory groused. "What was wrong with
the one I had?"

"He
was transferred to San Antonio Medical Center. He’s leaving in two weeks."
Leigha nodded toward the rubber strap. "Now, give me five repetitions with
the strap."