“Keep it down, soldier,” Aidan said under his breath. “You do not want Sarge hearing you say that.”
Fuck the Army. Aidan thought it, too, sometimes. Hell, there wasn’t a soldier alive who didn’t think it when the going got really rough and the CO was on your ass, but the Army was also a family. And when a soldier was in the middle of a mission, it wasn’t good luck.
“Maybe I don’t give a shit anymore,” Dwight muttered.
But Aidan could see he did. Dwight’s hands were shaking, and his face had flushed. He hadn’t seen a moment of combat, and Aidan got the feeling Dwight was really dreading it. Aidan had seen some light combat, but nothing like what others had been through.
“It’s going to be okay,” Aidan tried in an even voice. “Just stay calm and do the job. We don’t even know anyone’s going to try anything today. It’ll probably be smooth as glass. The bigwigs drive through, and then they’re someone else’s problem.”
Dwight’s eyes kept moving around. “I heard El Cid came in and talked to the Lieutenant.”
Aidan laughed. Dwight thought the CIA was behind this little mission? They were like the boogeyman. Everyone was afraid of the spooks because generally when the CIA got involved, it turned into a cluster fuck, and the lower pay grades were nothing but cannon fodder. The clerks at base loved to scare the shit out of newbies. “Don’t listen to the clerks. They love to gossip. This is totally routine. The General is making an appearance is all. Thompson, tell Creely here that we’ve done this duty a bunch of times, and no one’s died yet.”
PFC Thompson snorted. “Nope. We’re all alive, but you never know. Today could be our lucky day. Don’t you worry none, Creely. We’ll be back at base in time for whatever crap they’re serving tonight. God, I want to be home eating a cheesesteak.”
Aidan wanted to be home waiting on Lexi. She couldn’t cook to save her life, but she tried. Now, Lucas on the other hand, he was practically a freaking gourmet. The last weekend they had spent together, Lucas had put together a lasagna that Aidan could still taste on his tongue.
He had to keep his mind on the mission. He winked at Dwight, hoping it made him feel better. “This is a very safe part of the city. It’s constantly patrolled. We cleaned it out a long time ago. Seriously, who wants to be here? There’s not a goddamn thing out here.”
“Eyes front, soldiers.” Sarge walked behind them. He was a big, rough man, but he sighed as he stood behind Dwight. “O’Malley is right. It’s safe. We’ve done this several times. It’s a pain in the ass, but it’s fine. In twenty minutes, the convoy will move through, and we’ll hike it back.”
Aidan noticed how the CO shook his head as he walked away as though he knew Dwight shouldn’t be here at all. Aidan agreed. Dwight was a nice enough guy, but far too touchy for combat.
Aidan settled in. He would be in this position for a while. He let his eyes roam across the area they were protecting. Another squad was parked a mile down the road, further into the city. They had the more dangerous job. There were only two positions at this point. Guerilla Squad had a much more difficult position with buildings all around them, a hundred places for insurgents to hide.
He had another year. A whole year here before he had to go back and figure out what to do with his fucking life. Aidan was a good musician, but maybe not good enough. He’d played a bunch of gigs, but his guitar play was better than his vocals. He wondered what he would have done if that recording deal hadn’t fallen through the day after Armageddon. It was how he’d started referring to the night he’d spent fucking another man. It wasn’t just another man. It was Lucas, his best friend. And they hadn’t been alone. Lexi had been there. She hadn’t been shocked by it. Hell, she’d encouraged it. Her own mother was in the same kind of relationship.
They had made it work, Lexi’s mom and her two husbands. Jack Barnes was about as tough as a son of a bitch could get. He was a seriously scary motherfucker, but he was bisexual. Jack managed to have both Abby and Sam, and no one bothered him. And what would it matter if someone did? Why should he live his life and deny his own feelings because it bugged someone else? Why did he have to live by someone else’s rules when what he did would never harm anyone? How did loving someone make him less of a human being?
“Goddamn it, O’Malley.” The Sarge’s irritated huff brought Aidan out of his thoughts. “Your mutt’s here. I thought you tied him up.”
Aidan turned. Sure enough, Ike, the mutt he’d found starving on the roadside two days after he got to Fallujah, was trotting along as though out for a leisurely walk. His big tongue lolled out of his head, and he walked up, obviously waiting for a pat. Aidan leaned down and held out his hand. “What are you doing here, boy?”
There was the sound of distant gunfire. It came from the east, from the three story building in front of him. No mistaking the sound. Suddenly Sarge’s radio cracked to life, the sound splitting the air around them.
“Insurgents! At least five.”
Aidan knew the voice. It was Mike Garza, a corporal. He had led the snipers. The radio erupted with the rapid-fire explosions of a close-in firefight. Aidan’s heart clenched. His teammates, his friends, were fighting for their lives.
Suddenly the air around him exploded.
Bullets hit the dirt around him like lightning striking the ground.
“Fuck!” Dwight shouted beside him.
Someone started firing.
Aidan heard the Sarge yelling into the radio for help. Guerilla Squad was up the road, and they were on their way. Aidan hoped they had a medic with them, because Tanner was already down.
Aidan watched in horror as Sarge fell, a hole in his forehead. He’d shifted his helmet back, wiping sweat off his brow, and now he was gone. For a moment, Aidan couldn’t breathe. It seemed impossible. That building had been swept before by another squad who had proclaimed it safe and clean.
The world had slowed down, and Aidan felt locked in position.
Something struck his chest, sending him flying back, and he came out of his stupor. His heart raced. He had to do something.
Aidan brought the M-16 up and pulled the trigger, spattering the building with bullets. A body fell out of the window.
Chaos reigned. The ground around him exploded.
A stinging pain lashed at his face as a bullet whizzed by his head. He could feel the cuts and scrapes on his face begin to open. Blood began seeping from his cheeks, mingling with the sweat.
Aidan tried to focus. He dove for cover at the opposite wall. He sprang back up, trying to get a good line of sight.
His shoulder flew back as he took a bullet. Agony swept through him, but he remained on his feet.
The radio screamed out.
“Two men down. They’re dead—” There was a crack and then silence.
Aidan saw the glint of a gun from a broken out window. He aimed and fired. The gun, a freaking M-16—they were getting shot with their own weapons—fell to the ground below.
A sudden, shocking silence fell over the yard.
Aidan was pretty sure he could hear his heart beat. His hands shook. He ducked back down behind the wall, very aware now of a pain in his shoulder. Fuck. He’d been shot. He looked down at his body armor. The fucker had gotten him where he wasn’t protected, and now the armor was brushing against the wound. It was agonizing.
“You okay?” Specialist Charlie Link knelt down beside Aidan. They were covered by the wall, but an eerie silence had taken over.