Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

Jen

N ow that Mark and I had worked things out and had come up with a plan, I was looking forward to getting home and settling in again. Something about knowing that he and I were going to continue our relationship outside of this made me feel almost giddy.

Someone shuffled forward and bumped into me from behind, knocking me out of my thoughts. They murmured an apology and I took a few steps forward.

I was back in the chow hall; it was my turn for lunch. I'd sat by the radios like I usually do while the rest of the crew went and got food. It was hard not to daydream as I stood there. I hadn't seen Mark much in the last few days. They had back to back missions, and were busy from sun up to sun down, beyond really. We wouldn't have a chance to spend any time together for a bit. Not until everything calmed down and they had some down time. That was the way this place worked, I'd come to find out. Weeks of insane action, followed by weeks of quiet. I'd gotten used to the ebb and flow.

The last month had been such a roller coaster—the entire deployment had been to be honest. It was sort of nice to sit alone and examine my feelings. I'd spent so much time running from him and my own emotions that it was strange to have fully accepted everything. Nothing made me happier than thinking about seeing where this relationship could really go. I had a feeling this was the one. This was the relationship—the man—who was going to be long-term for me. I could picture growing old with Mark. A warmth rose up inside me from my thoughts. It felt good to be in love.

"Hey, Captain, how are you?" A voice with far more cheerfulness than I was ready for boomed from behind me.

Jumping from the unexpected sound, I turned to see who was interrupting my love fest. It was Petty Officer Barrett, the Navy Seal who was Mark's friend. He seemed so much happier and relaxed than when we first met.

"Hey, Petty Officer, I'm great. You're in a good mood today." I didn't know him well enough to say what his moods generally were, but considering the state he'd been in the last time, it was safe to assume this wasn't usual.

"No need to be so formal, call me Ricochet," he said

"Alright, Ricochet. How have you been?" I asked

He smiled back at me. "Life has been a lot better lately." Your friend Mark had a lot to do with that. Those were the words he didn't speak. It was clear in his eyes, though. They had spent some time together over the last few months, and it was obvious to see that a lot of his troubles had been relieved. More proof that Mark was exactly who I thought he was. The man had a way of influencing everyone he met in a positive way. It made it easy to trust him. I wished I'd figured that out sooner, but it didn't matter anymore. We'd turned a corner and there was no going back—not that I wanted to. I was fully invested. I doubted I could find a better man to trust my heart to.

We moved through the chow line and loaded our trays up. As we headed for a table I heard my name being called again.

Vasquez ran through the door and was calling for me. "Captain Walker!" I turned to acknowledge and see what the excitement was about. Dread swept through my chest at the look on his face. I didn't get a chance to reply, as I made eye contact he shouted again, "Fallen Angel! It's Sheppard."

I didn't ask him to repeat it. I didn't ask ‘are you sure'. I didn't set my tray down. It crashed to the floor, the sound echoing through the now silent chow hall. Every eye was on me, but my vision narrowed in on Vasquez. I was hoping he'd take it back, even though I knew he couldn't.

The second he said, "Fallen Angel" everyone and everything disappeared around me. All I could hear was my heart thudding in my head. I wasn't sure how that was possible when it was stuck there in my throat. Swallowing was difficult, speech was impossible. Luckily, neither were required. The only thing I needed was my helicopter. I charged past everyone and rushed for the door without looking around to see if anyone followed me.

Fallen Angel is every pilot's worst nightmare. It meant that an aircraft had been shot down, or crashed in enemy territory. As soon as Vasquez notified me, I was placed in control of the Combat Search and Rescue mission. This situation was now my responsibility. No matter who it was out there, I'd have done everything in my power to find and extract them as quickly as possible. The fact that it was Mark's aircraft just meant that my fear was weighing me down. I couldn't lose him now. Not when we'd finally worked past all the roadblocks keeping us apart.

I slammed through the door and hit a dead run. It was only a few hundred meters from the chow hall to the flightline. It might as well have been a couple hundred miles. The path down there was downhill on a paved road. It was the same path I jogged every night.

Today it stretched out in front of me like a horizontal version of vertigo. I couldn't run it fast enough. It was like that dream that everyone had at one point in their life, where you were running from some kind of monster and you may as well have been running through quicksand. You couldn't make any progress, and all the while the monster that scared you kept getting closer and closer.

Everything around me was moving in slow motion. There were people to the sides of the path that seemed to be standing still. There wasn't time to acknowledge them. I could be running past the President of the United States himself and I wouldn't give a fuck. The only thing I could hear was the thundering of my heart slamming against my chest and the thumping of my boots hitting the pavement. Fear choked me as I sucked in breaths and pushed my body harder, faster. Nothing else mattered but getting to Mark and Artie.

As fast as I ran, the road only seemed to stretch out farther. It expanded out before me like a never ending mountain path that had to be traversed. My thoughts were a jumble. I couldn't seem to focus on what needed to be done. The only thing I could think about was what could happen while they were vulnerable, on the ground, in enemy territory. They were in trouble. He was in trouble.

My lungs burned with the effort, but I wasn't slowing down. I wanted to scream, to cry out at this damned base for being so big, at my body for being too slow. It may have only been a matter of a minute to get to the aircraft but I couldn't waste a single second. My whole life was practically a montage of running—running from my past, from my happiness, running from Mark—and now I couldn't run fast enough.

I rounded the corner to the entrance to the flightline. I could see my helicopter. My other helicopter, the HH-60 we had for exactly this. I was almost there. The thundering silence was replaced by the APU powering up. Nick was already there. I could see Karolyn standing next to my door, grabbing my flight vest and holding it out for me.

Pride was pushing its way through the terror. When they had gotten the news they hadn't wasted time looking for me, or asked what to do. I knew I'd trained them well, but now, when it counted, they proved they knew what to do and did so automatically. I couldn't have better people under my command. I couldn't be more grateful to them.

All at once the world sped back up to real time. I skidded to a stop, grabbed my vest from Karolyn, and threw it over my shoulders. Jumping into my seat, I tugged my helmet on. Nick was already next to me, finishing the engine start sequence so we could get in the air. He gave me a brief look, then said, "Finish strapping in, I've got this." Sarah was still home. It would be nice to have her with us right now, but we would make do.

He had it under control, so I buckled up, then grabbed the piece of paper that was next to the GPS. It had coordinates written down, so I started putting them in. I caught movement in my peripheral. Looking up, I watched as two Polaris ATVs careened across the flightline toward the Chinooks. The Green Berets must have gotten the message, too. They were pushing their vehicle to its max speed, but I wouldn't be waiting on them. The faster someone got out to where Mark and Artie went down, the less likely it was that they'd be attacked.

The engines were at full power; I took the controls and started to taxi us out.

"Oh shit!" Karolyn squeaked. I quickly glanced into the back to see someone jumping through the open cargo door. "Uhh... We have a visitor," she said. It was Ricochet.

"Strap him in," I said. I spared a glance long enough to see he must have stopped by the armory before bee-lining out to our helicopter. He had a rifle and enough rounds to fend off a small army on his person. We might end up needing all the help we could get.

"Ma'am?" Karolyn asked for clarification.

"Just do it!" I yelled. There was no way he was getting out of this aircraft. I understood that all too well. Plus, he could be extremely useful to us. I knew from the little I'd heard the day we met, the man could handle himself in a fight. The look on his face was grim determination, but when our eyes met there was appreciation there. There was no doubt he'd see it reflecting in my gaze as well. I turned back around and focused on getting ready to go.

I moved us to the end of the flightline, then lifted into the air. We weren't supposed to take off from here. We should have gone to the runway, but I wasn't wasting the time. Fuck protocol. I'd happily take an ass chewing from the Colonel after I had our men, my man , safely back on base. Knowing the Colonel, he likely would never ask.

As we got into the air, I pulled max power and turned toward Mark's last known position. I looked at the gauges, we were right on the edge of the redline. Nick looked at me but didn't say a word. He knew I wasn't pulling back, wasn't slowing down. The steely look on his face told me he'd take over controls himself if I'd been playing it safe. Every person inside this aircraft was ready to run it into the ground as long as we got out to our men in time. Nick called the Ops Center to let them know we were en route.

The radio came alive with chatter.

"Operations, Rage one-six is en route from Bagram, estimated time of arrival forty-five minutes." That was the A-10s we'd met the night they landed on our base.

"Ops, Godfather Seven, redirecting. estimated time of arrival twenty-five minutes." The UAVs we'd worked with all year.

The calls continued, one after the other, informing the Ops Center of their location and arrival time. There wasn't a pause in between. The moment Vasquez acknowledged one unit, another jumped on.

It felt like the whole theater was coming to a stop and redirecting to Mark. It didn't surprise me. He would drop everything for them. They were down, but they wouldn't be alone—at least not for long.

Hang on, Mark.

The whole theater was coming to a stop for him. It was a never ending sea of voices, wave after wave stating their intention to help. That's how it worked. Everyone would be converging on his position now. One of us was in need of help. That was enough. The fact that it was Mark and Artie, the fact that so many of us owed our lives to them, just meant that an overwhelming number of people were rushing to their aid. It was a testament to the two men. They'd risked themselves countless times to help each and every one of us.

My throat burned with unshed tears. Pride was overpowering the fear for the moment. It would return. There was no way I would be able to relax until the men were in the back of my helicopter and I saw the shape they were in. I tightened my grip on the controls and pulled in more power. The gauges jumped into the red.

Nick placed his hand on my shoulder. "We won't get there at all if we burn up the engines."

Fighting back tears of anger and frustration, I lowered the power slightly and brought the gauges back to the green. He was right. I had to keep my head in the game if we were going to find them.

"Get on the radio," I barked at him, "see if his wingman has any new information yet." Thankfully, Nick did what I asked without comment. He knew my curt mannerisms were from worry and nothing to take personal. Still, I made a mental note to apologize later.

"Archer flight, Dustoff. How do you read?"

"Dustoff, Archer two-nine." It was Laura's voice. "Have you loud and clear."

"We're six minutes out from the last coordinates given, update?"

"We still haven't found the aircraft. Their last transmission was broken, not sure if they were shot, or had some kind of electrical issue. We're searching the canyons, going in concentric circles. Trying to find which valley they landed in."

I could see why Laura and Brady were having a hard time. There were patches of clouds all throughout the area. Not scattered across the sky, but hovering around the valleys. You had to get into each one of them to see if it was where they went down.

Panic tried to rise up, and with every bit of strength I had I fought it down. Laura was speaking with the certainty that he landed. But we didn't know that for sure. Not yet. It hadn't occurred to me until this very moment that they may have crashed. It was my brain's way of protecting my heart.

He landed. He must have. I'm not going to lose him, not when I'm finally ready to love him.

We closed in on the coordinates and saw Laura and Brady's aircraft searching. We were over another mountain range, with canyons and valleys in all directions.

Where the hell do we start?

Movement in my peripheral had my head snapping down and left. A dust cloud from a vehicle. A pickup truck with people in the back. I keyed the radio, "Laura, I have movement at my eleven o'clock. A truck in a hurry to get somewhere. Do you think they saw him go down?"

"Roger, I have another one east of you. The roads intersect and continue into the valley. That's likely where they set down."

Damn . Now we really had to hurry. I pushed forward on the controls while pulling in more power, accelerating past the truck. We were way faster, but we still had to find and extract Mark and Artie. The last thing we wanted was for those trucks to catch up to us while we were on the ground.

We shot up the valley and I climbed high enough to give us the best view. "Eyes open everyone, they're down here, and those assholes are right behind us."

"There!" Karolyn shouted, "Four o'clock, come around."

I banked hard to the right, hard enough that I was glad Karolyn and Ricochet were strapped in. We were in a nearly ninety-degree bank, anything not strapped down would probably fall out. I immediately saw it. Mark's aircraft was on the ground.

The panic was momentarily relieved. The helicopter was upright and seemingly intact. That meant that he didn't crash, but had control of the landing. That also meant that Mark and Artie should be uninjured. That revelation brought some relief. It was short lived. There were two trucks parked near the Apache. We did a high recon, we circled around high enough to be out of rifle range, but close enough to see if there was any movement.

We saw nothing. No movement, no bodies.

I made a rapid descent to land next to the helicopter.

"When we set down, you hold the controls and be ready to take off." I told Nick.

"Where are you going? Stay in here and let them look."

"Let who look, Nick?" I motioned back at Ricochet. "You want him to go alone?"

"No," Nick grumbled. "Sorry, I'm not used to being on the ground for the fighting."

"You stay here. One of us needs to be able to fly if things go sideways. Karolyn, you stay with him and watch our six. Stay alert. I don't want anyone sneaking up on you."

I set down as close as I could without our rotor blades hitting the Apache, about fifty feet. I unbuckled my harness and opened my door. I jumped out with my rifle in hand. Thanks to the short magazine that Mark had given me, it didn't get tangled on the way out. My feet hit the ground and I was moving, rifle up and at the ready, Ricochet beside me.

Ricochet was out and walking on my left, rifle raised at the ready. I spared a glance towards him. His left hand came up and made a forward motion. Together we walked towards the cockpit.

There was no one inside. The canopies were open but...where was he?

"Look here." Ricochet held up a shell casing and pointed towards the hills. There were two bodies, insurgents, lying dead. They'd been on the opposite side of the aircraft, concealed from our view until now. I glanced down and saw more casings on the ground. The thundering in my chest as my heart took off threatened to make me break down completely. There had been a firefight. Mark wasn't here. Neither was Artie. They were still alive, they had to be. Gunfire erupted from behind us, bullets bouncing off of the Apache.

Everything slowed. My heart was no longer racing out of control. It steadied out into an even thrum, like when you hit your stride jogging. The panic was gone and I was starting to see clearly now, hyper focused. Mark's voice was ringing in my head, driving my actions.

Pivot on the ball of your foot, head, arms and rifle move together.

I turned toward the gunfire, rifle raised. I stopped at the first shooter. He was barely thirty feet away. Five rounds. I fired. He dropped. I pivoted again to the next one and let off another five. I heard the ‘ thunk' of the rifle bolt locking back, empty. Immediately, I swept the rifle to my side and threw it behind me, then transitioned to my pistol. Holding it out, I kept scanning the area.

Ricochet approached the front of the aircraft, I stepped to his right and followed. Two more raised their rifles at us as we rounded the front. Our shots rang out in unison, Ricochet's rifle and my pistol. The intruders dropped before they had a chance to fire. The area around Mark's Apache was now clear.

"Let's go." Ricochet grabbed my arm and pulled me back to our helo.

I looked over to him. Before I could ask he said, "We have to keep moving. They're on the run and we're wasting time down here. We're an easy target, and the longer we stick around the more they'll shoot at us and your Black Hawk. Once we get some altitude we can search for Shep. They probably went into the hills."

I wasn't about to protest. He was right, staying here was wasting time and drawing fire. I looked up just before getting back in, Laura and Brady were overhead now. I jumped in and closed my door. Nick didn't hesitate, a quick glance back to make sure that Ricochet was in and then he pulled up on the controls and took off.