The Navy's Ghost (Bad Boys of Beta Squad) (5 page)

The shorter man snorted. “You go
t family? Brothers and sisters? I bet you got an older brother. He’s probably worried, and I’m sure he’d love to hear from you. Why don’t you give us his name so we can let him know you’re all right? What’s your big brother’s name?”

“
Bro.”

“What about your parents?
I bet they wouldn’t be too pleased to hear where you are. What are their names?”

“Mom and Dad.”

“Okay, up!”

A third man appeared out of the darkness and yanked
Chris to her feet, backhanding her across the face with his closed fist. Pain exploded through her awareness and the stars appeared inside the shack, swimming across her sight. She grunted and tears sprang to her eyes, but she kept her focus on her inner mantra as he frog-walked her over to the broken window overlooking the stockade where Magic, Lugnut, Limbo and Ducky stood imprisoned. She could barely see the shapes of the men in the poor lights of the camp, but they stared back at her. This was torture for them as much as for her.

“See them out there
in that shithole, Ensign?” The man holding her growled right next to her ear. “You must care for them because you came back for them. You were away free and clear, but you came back for them. You got a lover in there, sweetheart? Maybe more than one? Are you fucking the whole squad?”

Not the whole squad. N
ot any of them. I wish.

The man behind her kicked her feet apart and ground his hips to her ass.
“You worried about your lovers, sweetheart? Well, now they’re caught because of you. Because you made a rookie’s mistake and snagged the trip wire. You put them there.”

Ghost
smelled the meat the man had eaten for supper and the stink of his overheated body as he pressed its hard length against her back. His hands held her bound wrists tightly, prohibiting her from squirming away from him as they stared out over the corralled men. Only the sounds of crickets calling in the cooling air and his harsh breathing in her ear broke the night hush. She swallowed his accusations and told herself it didn’t matter if he spoke truth. She’d never leave a man behind if she could free him. Never.

“There’s an easy way to get them home safely withou
t any more torture or bloodshed.” Her captor’s whisper preceded a hand sliding over her head and down the back of her neck in a lascivious caress. “All you have to do is tell us who’s in charge, who’s the highest ranking member of your crew, and who sent you here. Nothing much, really. Just a few little words and your men will be able to take you and go home. No harm done.”

Something moved in the darkness outside
and she caught her breath. She’d recognize Retro’s silhouette anywhere and he sifted through the murky blackness like a phantom. Other shadows joined his. The escaped squad had come back for them. She had to keep her captors distracted so her team could free the others.

“That’s it. Just tell us what we want to know and off you go home to comfort and relief.”
He dropped his face to her shoulder as if enjoying the exposure of her skin where they’d ripped her undershirt.

Magic’s head whipped around when he heard the other SEALs behind him and
he melted into the gloom of the corral. Ghost couldn’t see him, but Ducky and Limbo each shoved a shoulder under Lugnut’s armpits and drifted steadily backwards into the shadows. She had to keep her wardens talking and focused on her.

The free hand of the man holding her fell to her waist and slid under the fabric of her shirt, massaging her hip. She groaned in protest and bowed her head forward closer to the jagged pieces of glass protruding from the damaged sill.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” The rough voice rasped, husky with arousal. “I can make it feel even better. All you gotta do is tell me who sent you. Just tell me, sweetheart, and everything will be better.”

He shifted
directly behind her, one hand holding her wrists, the other caressing her hip and back. Ghost kept her eyes trained on the corral. Retro and Magic would signal her to let her know when they got the others free and clear. She’d fight back when they set off a diversion to distract her torturers.

“Come on
, you can do it. Those boys outside won’t mind. They’ll thank you. Treat you like a queen when you all get home.”

“Don’t know.
” She squirmed as his hand slid over her ass.

“What, sweetheart?
”

“I don’t know.”

“Ah, see now, that was the wrong answer.” He jerked her back from the window and slammed her chest against the wall next to it. “I know you hold the key to the others. See, they can’t stand seeing you taking the beating for them. I figure if I tenderize you a little, those boys out there will sing like rock stars.”

He pulled her off the wall and slammed her back into it. Ghost turned her head to keep from breaking her nose, but she saw stars each time she hit.

She groaned and spat blood.

“Feel good, honey?”

“Oh yeah, best massage I’ve ever had.”

H
e snarled, throwing her backwards.

She landed hard
on her hands, skinning them on the splintery floor. She hissed as the wood needles dug into the heels of her palms, but she rolled to one side to keep her weight off them.

The short man who’d first questioned her jerked her to her feet and
thrust her into the chair again. It tipped backward so far it would’ve fallen had not the black man steadied it with his foot. He grasped her arms and pulled them up above the backrest. Her shoulders screamed from the pressure and Ghost bent her elbows to relieve the pain, but he yanked them straight and lifted.

Mr. Lech stood in front of her, his eyes blazing with anger and frustration. He braced his feet shoulder-width apart and swung his a
rm, hard. An open handed slap cracked into her left cheek and she spit blood in a wide arc across the wooden floor. Tears started in her eyes and rained down her face as her head rang like a bell.

“Talk!”
Whack.
“Tell us who you are!”
Slam.
“Talk, bitch!”

Each blow shook
Ghost’s world and she lost track of the mantra that had saved her through countless hours and endless drills of Hell Week when her body screamed to shut down. Pain sang an aria in protest and she frantically searched for something to occupy her mind long enough for the others to get away.

She drew a shaky breath and filled her lungs to speak. Her tormentors stared at her with avid triumph as she opened her mouth.

Chris sang out the lines to
Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree
, the old song drawn from her childhood memory. She took a breath to finish, swearing she could hear the raucous bird giggling in the back of her head.

A
moment of stunned silence permeated the shack while the men tried to understand what she’d sung.

“What did you say?” Mr. Lech demanded.

She repeated the refrain, her voice in tune but breathless.

“Who sent you, slut?
” Mr. Lech roared in her face.

“
Kookaburra
…”

Fury ripp
led across Mr. Lech’s expression and he pulled his hand back for a blow to the side of her head.
This is it
. He’d coldcock her and she’d be done. She waited for the strike, still singing the Kookaburra refrain over and over again, until the world exploded in fire and light.

She barely heard the shouts and screams of confusion as her captors ran for the opening in the shack, leaving her alone in her chair. She twisted sideways until her t
ired arms swung around the backrest and thumped against her back. The relief to her shoulders made her gasp, but she slid her torn hands under her butt, bending forward until the circle of her arms widened enough to push her body through the opening.

Ghost
paused to breathe when her wrists rested beneath her knees then she pushed her ass forward until her hands swung free of the seat. Folding in half, she dropped her bound wrists to her ankles and lifted one foot after the other through the ring of her hands.

Her head still rang from the blows she’d sustained, but after a few breaths, she
braced her legs on either side of the seat and rose to her feet. Lifting her head, she caught motion out of the corner of her eye and clenched her fists together. Swinging from the waist, she slammed her knotted hands into her assailant’s gut, making him grunt, but he didn’t go down. She spun and faced him as he grabbed her arms below the shoulders. His steadying grip allowed her to ram her knee up into his crotch. He saw the blow and blocked it at the last second with his rock hard thigh.

“Ghost! Ghost, it’s me. It’s Retro.
Stand down, Ensign!”

His voice penetrated her battle daze and she paused, trying to focus her eyes on his mud blackened face.

“Retro?”

“That’s right,
Ensign! Retro. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

“The others. They out?”

“Yeah. Got them out to the extraction point. You’re the last one. Come on.”

He cut the bonds
around her wrists. The skin held welts, chaffed raw from the dirty ropes, but the relief on her shoulders made up for the burning ache.

Ghost didn’t remember much from the
flight through the dense vegetation toward the extraction point, but loud explosions and gunfire lit the night around them as they ran. She did remember throwing herself into the open side of the helo waiting for them like a thundering dragonfly on the beach. Gratitude for its hard deck plates beneath her aching shoulders surged through her. Retro came in behind her then hauled her up against his chest as the helo lifted off.

Wet sand and water shot in all directions as she concentrated on the other men in the helo’s cargo hold.
Ducky, Limbo, and Lugnut sat strapped in across from her while Magic wrapped Lugnut’s ankle in a stabilizing brace. She caught their eyes and nodded to each, glad they’d survived. Each man gazed back at her with solemn expressions, but she didn’t want to interpret them.

Magic
had a smile for her as he took in all her injuries. He picked up her hands and grimaced, but he turned to the medkit and pulled out the tweezers and a penlight.

“Damn,
Ensign, what the hell did they do to your hands?” Retro demanded.

“Floor. Had to keep my head
from slamming into it, so used my hands to stop skidding.”

“Fuck.
”

“Yeah, it’s no picnic.” She jerked as Magic pulled a particularly large splinter out of her palm. “Could you do that a little harder, jackass? My hands don’t hurt quite as much my shoulders and I’d prefer a balance, thanks.”

Magic just grinned and kept working.

Ghost relaxed against Retro’s chest, closing her eyes despite the painful pulling on her hands
. Retro’s breath came calm and steady, his chest rising and falling in a soothing rhythm. He smelled like a wet swamp, but he was warm and strong, and gratitude for his higher rank spilled over her. He could take over from here and she could rest.

Her
dark world consisted of the slap of the rotor blades in the air and the wind shrieking past the open doors on either side of the helo. The cold, thin air at their altitude made her shiver, but Retro’s arms kept her warm.

“Hey, Ghost,” Retro said in her ear, his voice
carrying over the noise of the rotors.

“Yeah?”

“Why the hell did you decide to sing
Kookaburra
?”

“Heard that, did you?”
Chris laughed tiredly, wincing when Magic ripped out another splinter. “It was the only song I could think of that gets stuck in my head, like
Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall
without the numbers.” She grinned as a chuckle rolled through his chest. “But if you’d prefer a different song, try this, Retro.” She took a breath and sang out the first refrain of
Ninety-nine Red Balloons
.

Cries of
, “No, no!” and “Stop!” chorused around them, drowning out Ghost’s singing. She grinned then raised one fist, thumb up. The others matched her move and they all said together, “
Keep low, move fast. Kill first, die last. One shot, one kill. No luck. Pure skill.” They’d made it, survived SERE, and become a Team.

Chapter Four

Chris woke from her dream, but left her eyes closed as she sifted through the memories. Damn, it’d been a rough time, but worth all the pain and agony. Retro and Magic had been there with her, backed her up, gotten her through it. She didn’t know what she would’ve done without them. Thank God she’d never had to find out. They were the best.

Still are
.

An alien sound alerted her to a change in her room.
Someone shared the space with her. She softened her breathing to slow her heartbeat and kept her eyes shut as she analyzed the information coming in through her other senses. The usual medical sounds chirped in the background, but she could hear breathing, heavier, larger than her own. She smelled sweat and shaving cream. Men, two of them, positioned next to the bed. One held her hand and…rubbed it gently?

Her eyes snapped open and she
took in the details around her. Daylight filled the room with bright light from the exposed window. One male sat on her right, his head down and his elbows on his knees. His hair hung a little long, just below the ears, and golden brown, though it looked like burnished bronze sunshine. He wore a black T-shirt under a fine-grained leather jacket as he braced him elbows on his jean-clad knees. A braided copper bracelet wrapped around his left wrist, flashing in the light as he wearily rubbed his face with his hands.

Sensation grabbed her awareness and she slid her gaze over to her left hand. Another man sat there, her hand in his, rubbing the skin with a circular motion of his thumb.
The rough pad slid over the back of her hand, ceaselessly. He had dark hair cut close to his head and chiseled features with a wide, square jaw. He wore black jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt with some sort of logo on it, but no jewelry on his hands or wrists. His head was up, but his eyes were closed, and his jaw tightened periodically.

“Shit,” one of them whispered and she recognized Magic’s mild
Texan accent immediately.

“Where’re your manners, Magic? Didn’t your mama teach you not to swear in front of a lady?”

Both men jerked to attention at the painful croak of her voice and she gave them a wan smile. Magic’s gray eyes filled with relief and a welcoming smile curled his sensuous lips. Fatigue lined Retro’s face as if he hadn’t gotten much sleep, but his dark eyes held a mixture of grief and gratitude.

“I heard
tell you weren’t much of a lady.” Magic winked and she smiled.

“Can’t prove
it by looking at me.” She swallowed hard. “Is there any water? I’m pretty dry.”

The guys scrambled to their feet and scoured the room for a cup and pitcher. Magic found one in the bathroom and filled the cup with water, handing it to Retro while he
filled the pitcher and returned to the bed.

“Thanks.”

“How are you feeling?” Retro took the empty cup and Magic refilled it.

Chris’
s guts clenched at the concern in his voice. He meant more than the pain, but she stalled by drinking the water.

“
A bit chewed up and spit out, but the Dilautid takes care of most of it when it gets bad.” She shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m glad to see you, Retro. I missed you when Magic came before.”

Jim’s face tightened around the eyes
with some emotion, but he nodded and Chris couldn’t quite decipher it. She squeezed his hand to pull his gaze back and tried to smile. “How’s the rest of the squad holding up? Magic said there weren’t any other serious injuries.”

“That’s right. Killian had a little batting practice with one guy, but other than that, we all got out fine.” Jim cracked a smile. “Deli asked him when we made it back to helo if he planned to go out for the Oakland A’s any time soon, then had to duck Killian’s swing.”

Chris laughed, but it jarred her leg and she bit back an involuntary moan. Both men lost any humor in their eyes and leaned toward her, as if to push off her pain with their broad shoulders. She suspected they felt helpless. So powerful, so wonderfully trained, and they could do nothing.
Yeah, it sucks for everyone, dammit.

“
I’m okay. Just hits me at random moments, is all. Before I forget, thanks for saving my ass, Magic,” she said, her face creasing into a slow smile as the pain retreated again. “Apparently, I moved too slow.”

“Yeah, well, don’t let it happen again,
Ensign.” Retro squeezed her hand. “Can’t have a slow SEAL on the Teams.”

His
words hit too close to home and grief snagged her breath. No one came back from a severed artery in fighting condition. She’d lose the connection, the camaraderie she’d fought so hard to win in training. It broke her heart. If she took the instructor’s position, would she lose the close relationships she’d had with her squad?

Don’t cry, don’t cry.
Jim’s expression crumpled as if he wished he hadn’t asked the question, and she gulped a breath to keep the tears from breaking ranks. Her efforts to hold in her grief issued a groan from her chest and she closed her eyes to divert the tears.

“Are you all right?”
Magic grabbed her other hand. “I could send for the nurse.”

“No, I’m okay fo
r now. I’m just…just…”

“What, Chris?” Todd
wiped away a rogue tear.

“Oh, God, I’m such a
girl! Crying over something so stupid.”

Neither of them said anything but their faces
showed their sympathy.

“I’m never
going back to the Teams,” she whispered and more tears fell. “Did you know?”

Silence followed and
her question hung in the air like a hangman’s noose. She figured the whole squad had been informed, but their anguished hush confirmed it. She nodded sharply and closed her eyes, feeling the loss all the way to her soul. Everything she’d ever worked for had evaporated with one bullet wound to her leg. Even the heavy-duty pain meds couldn’t kill the ache of the truth.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Look on the bright side.” Todd offered a half smile. “You’ll be able to train some respect into them stupid cock-swinging commandos early.”

Ch
ris wanted to laugh, but it’d evolve into sobs and she couldn’t break in front of these guys. The men she loved felt deeply, but they also defended their feelings the same way they defended their country, fiercely and ruthlessly. They didn’t show anyone their vulnerabilities if they could help it.

“Did you talk with Whittleton
?” She had to change the subject.

“We saw him briefly, but he only told the squad you’d made it out of surgery.”
Jim nodded.

“
Did Magic tell you about Castle?”

“The master chief here on base
?” Jim shot a look at Todd. “No, what about him?”

“He requested me
to be a new instructor for BUD/S training.”

She swore Jim’s jaw hit the floor
. “He
requested
you?” She nodded and Retro grinned. “I knew the old bastard had a soft spot for you.”

Chris snorted.
“That’s what Whistler and Magic said. How did you all know this and I didn’t?”

“Guys’ intuition.” Retro winked.

“I didn’t think guys had ‘intuition.’ I thought you had ‘gut feelings’.”

“Same thing,” Magic said.

“And Castle would never live it down if he showed you, now would he?” Retro’s smile lit up the room and she tried to enjoy it. “So, are you gonna take it?”

“What else am I gonna do? I can’t walk, can’t run, my leg’s fractured beyond repair and I’ll be out of shape by the time I’ve recovered my mobility. I’m done with the Teams and I
won’t
drive a desk.”

Retro
nodded and hitched a one-shouldered shrug.

“
Hey, it won’t be that bad. The new guys coming in won’t know what hit ’em.” His smile came back with a wicked tilt. “You’ll give them a whole new perspective on focus, just like you taught us. Hell, I bet they’ll respect women a whole lot more after you’re done with them.”

Chris
tried to smile, but when her eyes settled on Magic’s sympathetic expression, she almost broke into tears again. All SEALs shared a fear of losing active status and teaching wasn’t the same as doing. She had no friends in the instructors at Coronado, no brothers to watch her back. It’d be another pecking order, with her proving she had the right to be there. Not to mention the cocky recruits.
God, I don’t know if I can do this.

She’d be alone while her crew, her closest friend
s, left her for weeks at a time. Grief surged and she sucked in a deep, shaky breath to hold it back until the men left.

“I think I’m going
to sleep again now. I’ll talk to you a little later, okay?”

“You better believe it,
Ensign.” Jim squeezed her hand again. “We’ll be here when you need us. We got your back.”

“Just ha
ve us paged no matter what time.” Todd patted her other forearm. “We’ll be here, come hell or high water.”

“Thanks, guys.” She closed her eyes and turned her head. “Thanks for being here when I woke up.”

They each squeezed a hand, but she didn’t open her eyes. They had to leave so she could let the tears out without worrying them. She needed to grieve for the loss of her career, but not in front of them.

When the door clicked shut, she took a deep breath and released her tears with a shuddering sob.

****

“It’s killing her,” Retro
said as soon as they hit the hallway.

“Yeah, I know.
” Magic shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I’m not talking about the pain.
I’m talking about being discharged from the Teams. It’s killing her.”

“She’s tougher than she looks, Retro. She’ll pull though.” Despite his words, Magic didn’t sound convinced.
“Besides, she has torturing the new recruits to look forward to. Man, I’d give just about anything to be a fly on the wall when she does SERE to those boys.”

“Fuck.” Retro laughed. “
They’ll be blindsided, and it won’t be with her fist. It’ll be her ass and those tank tops she wears when it gets hot. Woowee, they were torture enough for me.”

He pictured sitting tied to a chair while
Ensign Chris Brickman took off her camo shirt and poured water over her head because of the heat. Man oh man, he’d spill his secrets for the opportunity to see her completely naked and seated on his lap. His body reacted and his jeans tightened below the belt. Damn, the one woman he wanted more than anyone before and she didn’t go for the bad boys. But around her, he didn’t have to be one. He could be himself and she liked him better for it.

If his feelings had remained sa
fely in “admiration and respect,” things would’ve been fine. But they hadn’t, and now it was too late.

Magic loved her, too. He’d stood there looking like a lost little boy and whispered how much he loved
Brickman. Todd had meant more than just the deep bond between SEAL swim buddies. Retro understood he’d lost his chance.

Ghost and Magic
communicated in ways most people, man to man or even man to woman, couldn’t in the civilian world. Retro’s jealousy had roared to the fore, but he’d kept it to himself after he’d considered everything. When most honest with himself, like at oh-dark-thirty when he couldn’t sleep, he admitted Magic was the better man for Ghost. Honorable, strong, and psychologically stable, Magic had it all.

And
Retro?
I’m a hot fucking mess, only good at being a SEAL. Dad made sure of it
.

Sergeant James H. Wat
ers beat everyone into submission if they didn’t follow his rules, his beliefs. He’d beaten his wife and daughter when they defied him in the smallest of infractions. Mom left with his little sister when Jim started his senior year of high school. They just disappeared, leaving him with the man who warned him to stay on the straight and narrow despite his “sexual perversions.”

Retro shied away from th
e old thoughts like a man avoiding shrapnel. The past remained past, nothing he could do about it now.

But he could l
et Chris go to the better man, who had a loving family. Chris deserved it. She deserved better than a broken bastard who feared his own dark needs, needs he’d told no one after his father beat it out of him.

He couldn’t subject Chris to them and he’d move heaven and earth to keep her safe from them, even if it meant tearing out his own heart.

Todd’s voice intruded, but Jim didn’t catch everything. “Say again?”

“I said let’s get somethin’ to eat before we come back. I don’t want her to wake up alone if I can help it.” Todd eyed him with a frown. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. What do you think of the master chief asking for her to instruct?” They stepped into the elevator to head for the cafeteria in the medical center. Not Retro’s favorite place to eat, but close enough for them to get back to her room quick.