The Navy's Ghost (Bad Boys of Beta Squad) (3 page)

Chris nodded, but couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Second chance at what? Her life as a SEAL had ended.
The doctor patted her shoulder and inclined her head to Whittleton before she strode from the room.

No one said anything after her withdrawal and the regular hospital sounds intruded into their little pocket of space. Chris
wished everyone would leave while she figured out her next move, but she held her peace while the nurse went about her duties as if no one else existed.

Whittleton stayed, patiently waiting for the nurse to finish. She injected the pain meds directly into the line and Chris took a deep breath as they hit her system. The damn stuff burned like a sonofabitch, making her arch her back and groan low in her throat. The burn only lasted a minute, quickly followed by blessed relief.

“All right, Ensign?” the nurse asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She quietly unhooked Chris’s IV, replacing the empty saline bag with a full one. Then she packed up her cart, and left the room without another word.

Chris returned her gaze to her team leader and he gave her his patented half-smile. “The man responsible for your injury has decided, with a little judicious encouragement, to give up all the information pertaining to the terrorist cell operating
in Nicaragua, and their biohazard imports operation.”

“Did you catch them all, sir?” Crushing the terrorist cell would improve her mood.

“Yes. Bravo Squad went in at 1900 the day you returned to Coronado.” The lt. commander lost his smile, but fierce triumph glowed in his eyes.
Hooyah, they’d gotten the bastards.
She nodded her gratitude, but her gut clenched with loss. She’d been left behind already.


Glad to hear it, sir. Would you pass on my congrats to the squad, sir?”


Will do, Ensign.” A half-smile curled his lips. “They also took your nickname for the squad.”

“My nickname, sir?” Chris blinked.

“Bravo Squad does it mo’betta?” He chuckled at her blank stare. “They shortened it to Beta Squad, because they’re second to none.”

Chris gaped at her CO.
“Did I really say that, sir?”

“Yes, Ensign. Under the
influence of morphine. I have multiple reports.” He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t remember?”

“No, sir.”

“They’ve adapted it out of honor and affection for you, Brickman.”


Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“They are
all looking forward to seeing you.”

“Thank you, sir.”
Chris didn’t want them to see her like this.

They lapsed into silence again. What more was there to say? The squad had vanquished the terrorist cell and only she’d sustained injuries. At least as far as she knew.

“Was anyone else wounded in the latest op?”

“No, Ensign. The squad came through without a scratch this time.”

This time.
Chris tried not to take it personally, but the phrase stuck in her mind. Intellectually she knew SEAL squads often sustained injuries, even death, but she couldn’t help feeling his words meant for her.

Let it go, Brickman. The past is the past and you have to go forward from here.

Chris found the Lieutenant Commander’s green gaze on her and swallowed against the apology burning in her throat.
I’m sorry I let you down, sir.

“I’m sorry,
Ensign.” His face no longer hid his dismay. “I know this isn’t how you thought it would go.”

D
ammit, why does he have to be nice now?
She just barely held back tears.

“No, sir.
” She cleared her throat. “But as the doc says, I have a second chance.”

Whittleton nodded
. “Yes, she did. What are you gonna do with it?”

Chris met his gaze and read the challenge there. “I don’t know, yet
, sir. I’m still working on grokking my injuries, sir.”

Some of the challenge faded from his eyes.
“The entire squad has been hounding me for news on your condition and have petitioned for leave to come see you.”

“The
entire squad, sir? Even Rubenovich?” Chris raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Whittleton laughed.
“Yeah, amazingly enough, even Deli.”

“Tell them thanks for me, sir.”

“Will do.” He stopped and dropped his gaze as he ran his fingers over the Budweiser, the eagle emblem, on his officer’s cap. “I want you to know we all grieve for your status change, Brickman. Retro and Magic especially.”

“Really, sir? I
suspected you’d all be turning cartwheels because you no longer had ‘Little Navy Jane’ in your squad. No more media circus, no compensating for the weaker—”

“That’s enough
, Ensign.” All the emotion left Whittleton’s face. “You’ve earned your Budweiser and your place on my squad. I won’t have you or anyone else deride your right to be there.”

He stopped and his
gaze fell on her leg, covered once more by the blankets on the bed. Fury flashed through his expression, but it disappeared when he raised his face to her once more. “You’ll always be Team 9, Bravo Squad, no matter what, Ghost.”

T
he nickname she’d received during their first mission after BUD/S training echoed hollowly in the room. She’d earned it for her abilities of infiltration and reconnaissance and bore it proudly. She’d earned it when an enemy guard once pissed on the wall right next to her with no idea she sat less than twelve inches from him. He’d zipped up his fly and marched past her when done. The boys had called her Ghost from then on.

What do you bet I’ve lost
the ability with this injury?
Dread settled a little deeper into her belly.

“Yes, sir.


I wasn’t surprised when Master Chief Castle asked for you.”

“You weren’t, sir? I’m
damn near floored.” She grimaced and glanced over the edge of the bed. “Well, kinda.”

The
Lieutenant Commander’s smile filled his whole face and she paused to take in his beauty. He remained single, but she couldn’t help to wonder why.
Probably the time spent away from home
. Chris sighed as the pain killers kicked in.

“Between you and me, I think he has a crush on you, Brickman
.” Whittleton winked and Chris giggled.

“Master Chief Castle, sir?
” She made a rude sound. “Not likely, sir.”

Whittleton chuckled. “
For the record, I know you impressed the hell out of him when you went through BUD/S, especially Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape training. He swore you’d be gone the third week. Green, small, and soft is what he thought of you at the beginning. But by the end, he didn’t take anyone’s shit about you.”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Master Chief who spent most of his time blaring his bullhorn voice at me
, sir?”

“The one and only Castle, Brickman. The
minute he heard your news, he put in the request for you.”


Wow. It totally blows my mind.” Sleep tugged at her awareness. “I’ll try to live up to his regard, sir.”

“I think you’ve more
than lived up to it, Ensign.” Whittleton snorted. “Take care of yourself and get some rest. We expect you back on duty in a few months.”

“Three
, sir. I’ll be back in no more than three.”


We’ll see you then.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Swift winds, Ensign Brickman.”

But Chris already
drifted in the sweet painkiller sea. Her vision played tricks on her. She swore the Lieutenant Commander’s face crumpled into sorrow as he cursed softly and wiped his eyes before swiftly striding from her room.
Now you’re just dreaming, Brickman. Whistler never cries.
She let the idea go and slid into sleep.

Chapter Two

 

 

Todd “Magic” Hunter lengthened his strides down the hallway of Coronado Medical Center, searching for the nurse’s station. His gut clenched tight and he told himself for the hundredth time Ghost survived. Dammit, if the stupid doctors lost her after he’d managed to clamp her artery shut, he’d tear this place apart.

Breathe, jackass. Fury’s not gonna solve this.

The hospital’s halls sat relatively quiet and vacant in the after-dinner hour and Magic searched for the nurse’s station. No one appeared to be anywhere.

“Where are the fucking nurses?”
Todd swung his gaze around the hallway, but no one materialized. He scanned the walls for the nurse rotation board behind the desk and found Brickman listed beside a nurse’s name and the number fifteen. He could almost hear CPO “Rimshot” Stanton’s voice whispering “Target acquired.”

Some of Magic’s tension faded as he approached Ghost’s room. She’d been moved out of the ICU
into the main portion of the medical center.
Means she’s out of immediate danger
. When he reached the door, he paused and took a few deep breaths, nervous.
Pussy. Just open the damn door and look in on her. She’s not dead.

H
e hoped.

Swallowing against the insidious uncertainty, he
depressed the door handle and pushed the door slowly open.

The room sat dark and
empty of ornamentation. Only the bed and the medical equipment filled the small space. No flowers or balloons livened up the somber atmosphere and he vowed to remedy it immediately. He tried not to inhale more of the antiseptic scent as he swung his gaze to the occupant in the bed.

Chris slept, her head turned toward the shaded window as if seeking the light. She
appeared so small and fragile, though she’d proved the assessment wrong numerous times in the past. His chest tightened with anguish at her condition.

The darkness became oppressive and he damn near dove for the shades covering the window.
The last light of the setting sun painted patterns on the wall and the foot of the bed as Magic spotted Chris’s chart. He grabbed it to distract himself from the details of Ghost’s body beneath the covers.

The detailed medical explanation flew past his awareness as he skimmed, but he caught a few points. They’d given her plenty of pain medication and she’d been responding well to treatment. He recalled the Lieutenant Commander’s debriefing on Ghost’s status and he’d said the leg had been ugly, but the doc encouraging. Magic didn’t buy it for a moment.

Todd grimaced as he remembered slicing through Chris’s thigh muscles with his field knife to get to her artery.
At least
the CT scans show the artery’s strong, but I’m sure her
leg looks like a shark got it.

He hoped she didn’t b
egrudge it, though he sure as hell did. The damage he’d done in an effort to save her bugged the hell out of him and his fury surged at the memory of the man who’d lured her into a blind spot. If he hadn’t already been beaten within an inch of his life, Todd would have finished the job the interrogators started. His gaze dropped back to the chart to calm himself down. The doc had increased her calcium intake for bone replacement, and protein for muscle and soft tissue development. Progress read ‘satisfactory.’

Todd
snorted. “Not satisfactory for me…or Ghost, I’d bet.”

The sound of his voice in the quiet room made Chris shift and she turned her head toward him. Magic dropped the chart and snagged the nearest chair, dragging it over to the bed.

“Hey, Chris, how are you doing?”

“Magic? What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you.” He grabbed her hand and sat down. “How are you holding up?”


I’m good.” She shifted in the bed, a grimace tightening her lips as she resettled. He didn’t believe her, but he decided not to push. “The meds make me groggy and sleepy, but the pain’s minimal.” She fixed him with her unfocused hazel gaze. If he didn’t know better he’d swear she gave him her bedroom eyes.

Sleepy
beauty.
His lips quirked.
Yeah, but don’t kiss her to wake her up.
He’d find himself on his back with a knife at his throat and a rabid weasel on his chest.

“What are you smiling at, Magic?” Even drugged up, Chris still managed to raise an eyebrow.

“I was just thinkin’ you look like hell, but could still kick my ass.”

Her face fell. “Not anymore.”

His gut clenched at the defeat in her voice, but he snorted to cover his chagrin. “We both know that ain’t true. Once you heal up, you’ll be taking down bad guys left and right. Just gotta give it some time to get better.”

Chris glanced away and grimaced again, but she didn’t argue with him. A twinge of concern hit his spine and he suppressed a shiver.
What does she know that I don’t?

“So, where’s Retro? I thought he’d come with you to visit.”

Yeah, me too.

Magic still kicked himself over revealing to his best buddy his love
for Christiana. He realized it only when she lay dying under his hands on the grimy warehouse floor.
Moron
. He’d never been so focused in his life and he’d thanked every god out there for it each day since. At least they’d gotten the bastard who lured her into an ambush and the homegrown terrorists paying him. A small victory in the face of the tragedy lying in the bed in front of him.

“I don’t know. I texted him, but he hadn’t answered by the time I left for the hospital.” Todd gave her his best encouraging smile. “I’m sure he’ll be around soon.”

Chris nodded. “So how did the rest of the tropical trip go? Did you get what you were looking for?” Even in the safety of an American hospital she kept their missions vague.

“Yep. And repaid those boy
s in kind for their efforts.” Todd nodded toward her legs under the blankets. “Best ending we could hope for when the trip turned to shit on us.”

“Hey, you definitely got lucky with only one fuck-up
. Me.” Anguish and despair washed across her features and Todd’s anger kindled in response.

“No one fucked up, Ghost. It was an ambush and it coulda been any one of us
.”

“But I was point.”

“And you saved the rest of the squad from takin’ the brunt of the damage.” Todd grabbed her hand and tugged on it to get her attention. “No one’s blamin’ you but you. Got me, Ensign? I’m sure Deli’s kickin’ himself for not havin’ better intel before we went in. You don’t get to take all the responsibility for this one.”

She tightened her lips. “No one else hurt on the second time through?”

“No, ma’am. Bam-Bam sustained some bruised ribs when a guy hit him in the back with a baseball bat, but other than that, we hit the clear water pretty easily.”

“Good. I expected you all to pick up the slack where I left off.” Some of the fire returned to her eyes and Magic chuckled.

God, he loved her. He’d loved her ever since she’d gotten those hostages out through the drainage pipe no wider than a meter in diameter right under the noses of the Afghani guards. She’d been magnificent and lethal, and his cock had hardened at the thought of having her not only by his side, but in his bed. She had him hooked when she told them about the guard who opened his fly and pissed on the wall right next to her, never seeing her.

It had been their first real op right after graduating from BUD/S training and his love had only grown from there. He’d said nothing to her, of course, not willing to trash the amazing friendship and trust they’d developed over the last
four and a half years in Team 9, Bravo Squad.
And now Beta Squad because of her.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Now she lay in a bed, recovering from the worst wound he’d ever seen in the field and his heart broke for her.
And I gave it to her.

But she’d survived and would heal, and guilt had no place in that. Todd smiled
to force it away.

 

****

 

Chris had endured three days of mulling over her change in status after Whittleton visited. Her leg continued to improve according to Dr. Meecham, but her morale suffered from the isolation. Her gut curdled at being left behind and abandoned because of her injury. Waking up to Magic’s face over her had pushed some of the fury and despair away.
At least he doesn’t look as tense as the last time I saw him.

He smiled for her, but
it didn’t touch the knot of dread in her gut. She’d let her Team down. Hell, she’d let herself down. She tried to smile back.
I’ll weather this like everything else. Master Chief Castle asked for me.
Who’d ever thought the old battleship would see her as more than just a female wannabe?

But even her
surprise couldn’t combat the despair of losing her active status with her SEAL Team. Someone had cut her heart out and left it to bleed on the sand. Her smile faltered and she swallowed hard to hold back the tears. The men in her squad had never dealt well with tears, even from past girlfriends.

“You got awful quiet there, Ghost. But I see the steam comin’ out of them ears. What are you thinkin’ on so hard?”

A smile cracked her lips. Todd only hammed up his Galveston accent when trying to make her laugh. She secretly admitted she loved his Texas drawl.

“Just thinking about ‘tomorrow’.”

Todd snorted and shook his head. “What’d I tell you about thinkin’ like that? Tomorrow don’t exist. All you got is right now.”

Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.
Right now, with her leg mangled and her squad beyond her reach. Could she find the same satisfaction training
others
to do what she’d done? Or would it hurt to know they’d go out and save the world while she stayed home, watching from afar?

God,
it hurts worse than my leg.

The
rest of the squad hadn’t been able to visit yet, but she suspected they had to come down off the post-op rush. SEALs didn’t do anything half-assed.

“I know, Magic.
But I’m afraid there’s nothing more for me to do.”
That isn’t true and you can stop wallowing any time now.
She grimaced and shook her head. “Whistler came by three days ago and gave me a new assignment.”

“He did?” Todd gave her a guarded expression. “Are you driving a desk now, Ghost?”

Chris barked a laugh at the vision of a governmental metal monstrosity with a steering wheel in her mind, but the humor faded fast. “No. Something stranger. Master Chief Castle requested me to be an instructor for BUD/S training.”

Magic looked like a man who’d been beaned with a frying pan, and Chris laughed again.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”

“Holy shit.” He shook his head, gaping. “
That’s amazing. I knew he had a soft spot for you during BUD/S.”


Yeah, right. The man kicked my ass six ways from breakfast.”

“Yep. If he didn’t care, he’d have ignored you and not pushed at all.” Todd nodded with satisfaction. “You know he didn’t take anyone talkin’ trash about you afterwards?”

“That’s what the Lieutenant Commander said.”

“I saw him once damn near put a guy through the wall who said you’d fucked your way through BUD/S to pass.”

Chris gaped at Magic. “Are you serious?”

“Yep. I would’ve beat the dumbass to a pulp, but the Master Chief put him in his place pretty quick. He was one of the ringers from our class.”

Chris nodded. Ringers were the guys who rang out of training. She didn’t blame any of them for quitting. BUD/S represented the worst of the worst in terms of things to do voluntarily. But sometimes the ringers ended up resenting the guys who made it through.
And hating the woman who survived it when they couldn’t.

“How did you manage not to hate me when I joined the class, Magic?”

“That’s easy.” He sat back and gave her his sexy smile. “You pulled your weight and then some, and you never bitched or whined like some of them boys did. I liked you a whole lot better than them for it.”

His smile is
not
sexy. Nor is Retro’s.

Chris
had plenty of time to think, to wish, to dream about Lt. Jim “Retro” Waters and Chief Warrant Officer Todd “Magic” Hunter. Both men had become closer to her than brothers. They’d held her hands and secured her safety before she blacked out. Both made her heart ache every time they walked into a room and her body ache when they wore no shirts.

You gotta let those thoughts go, Brickman.

She’d fantasized hundreds of times what it would feel like to make love to either of them, but she’d never wanted to destroy their close friendship by suggesting it.

“Whoa, now, what are you thinkin’ on? You look like someone’s just stole your cookie.”

Chris blinked and jerked back to the present. “What?”

“Somethin’ ridin’ that mind of yours, Ghost?” Todd grasped her hand and she tried to ignore the flare of yearning with his touch.

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