Until We Meet Once More (4 page)

BOOK: Until We Meet Once More
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“Yeah.”
“You’re not kidding?”
“You know me better than that.”
Sean was shaking his head in disbelief. “What time is it?”
“We’ve got two and a half hours to get down there.”

“Too bad you couldn’t have come up with this plan
before
I climbed up here.”

“Sorry. Your line was busy.”
“Is this pilot in love with you or something?”
“Isn’t everybody?” Vic wrapped an arm around Sean’s waist. “Put your arm over my shoulders. Can you make it like this?”

“I can try.” Sean added grimly, “But if I can’t I don’t want you wasting time up here with a chopper crew waiting in that valley for you.”

They moved slowly down the trail, Sean half hopping, trying not to lean too heavily on Vic.

“I think our best bet is the north face,” Vic said. “It’ll be a tougher climb but whoever is tracking you won’t be looking for you over there.”

“They won’t be looking for me coming back down at all.”

“We’ll have to double back around to the LZ, and we’ll lose some time there….” Vic was still calculating odds. “How much ammo do you have left?”

“Maybe rounds.”

SEALs typically carried rounds. Vic nodded, accepting this, not commenting on the battle that Sean had waged to get this far. “If we’re lucky we’ll lift out without a firefight.”

They traveled along the narrow trail, having to stop at one point to go single file down a ledge that was like a knife edge. It would have been tricky in the daylight. It was harrowing in the dark. Vic kept one hand clutched on Sean’s arm terrified that Sean would slip or misstep. Having finally found him again, no way was he losing him.

They finally made it across the ridge and Sean slid down. “I’ve got to rest.”

Blood loss, shock, exhaustion. Yeah, he’d earned a rest. Unfortunately, they didn’t have that kind of time.

“Take five,” Vic said, although it was going to have to be more like take three. He squatted as Sean slid down the frosty rock face and leaned back. A couple of gentle snow flakes drifted down.

Fuck.

Vic stretched his arm out. “Here, let’s conserve body heat.”

Sean gave a laugh that was mostly a snort, but he leaned into Vic. Vic folded his arms tight around him. He had always dreamed of this meeting as a new beginning. It was feeling more and more like an ending.

“I lost my entire team,” Sean said suddenly, the words vibrating against Vic’s chest.
Vic nodded, not trusting himself to words.
“We had a direct action. Take out Akhtar Shah Omar. Limited time on target.”

Not recon then. Assassination. He’d wondered if it was something more like that. He thought of the boy he’d known at Annapolis. His eyes prickled. And how insane was that when he wasn’t exactly teaching Sunday School himself. And anyone who knew him would be laughing their asses off. So much for the Stone Man.

There was a long pause and he wondered if Sean had fallen asleep again; he was breathing long, steady breaths — and then Vic realized that he was struggling with emotion.

“What happened?” he whispered against Sean’s cold ear. Tempting to kiss him, but…no. No. He’d lost that right a long time ago.

“We got walked on.”

Walked on.
Compromised on a mission. He let his ears brush the chilled shell of Sean’s ear. “It happens.”

Sean said muffledly, “It does. And we all knew what we needed to do. But…it was this little girl. This little goatherd girl. And I couldn’t do it, Vic.”

“Couldn’t do what?”

Sean looked up, his eyes looked wide and so clear they looked almost silver in the paling light. “It was my call and I said we had to let her go.”

Vic said calmly, “Hey, what was the option there? You’ve got to follow the Rules of Engagement. She wasn’t Taliban. She wasn’t al Qaeda.”

“No, she was fucking Heidi. And I let her go and she ran straight to the mujahadeen militia.” He turned away and wiped at his eyes with his forearm. “And my men ended up dead.”

For a few seconds Vic couldn’t say anything. Finally, he said unemotionally, “Sometimes they’re on our side. How’d you end up with the Taliban chasing you?”

“We had to fall back once the mujahadeen showed up. Basic move and shoot maneuver. Pitched battles aren’t our thing.”

No. SEALs were not main force units. SEALs worked best as shock troops. Stun the target with maximum violence, accomplish the most destruction with minimal effort, and then fade away in the confusion.

“We were okay, but naturally it made a little noise. The Taliban noticed and decided to join the party. We lost Bobby right away. Voss was our communications guy. He got hit trying to radio for help. They shot him a couple of times, but he stayed on the high ground trying to make comms. Salvio and I went to drag him back and Salvio got hit in the head. He died in my arms.”

“Close your eyes and sleep for a couple minutes.”

“No time.”

But when Vic tugged him back, Sean leaned into him and closed his eyes. His breath was warm against Vic’s throat, his hair brushed softly against Vic’s chin.

Vic let him sleep ten minutes. About seven minutes longer than he should have but he justified it as a power nap.

Far down the mountainside he could see stealthy movement, hear the faintest scrape of boots on rock. Every sound carried in this cold, crisp mountain air. Taliban soldiers were slowly navigating their way up the uneven slope. They were being surprisingly cautious. Sean must have made quite an impact on them.

He had a way of doing that.
Vic said against Sean’s ear, “Rise and shine.”
Sean’s eyes opened instantly. He nodded.

The next two hours were a test of endurance. Somehow they made it across the scraggy face of the cliff, literally crawling at points, and then climbed with excruciating difficulty down a series of boulders. Vic knew he was going to have nightmares about that climb for weeks to come.

Assuming he still had weeks to come and they didn’t end up in pieces on the mountain in the next half hour or so.

By the time they shinnied down the final boulder, they were both shaking and soaked in sweat. Sean was needing more and more help although he never asked for it once.

Reaching the bottom, they dropped on their bellies and tried to recover their breath.
“Did you ever get married?” Sean asked suddenly, softly.
“No. You?”
Sean snorted.

“I mean…did you find someone…?”
Who appreciated you, who treated you like you should have been treated, who had the brains to recognize what you were worth?

“Oh, sure. I found a lot of people.”
Neither spoke for a time.
Sean’s voice was abrupt. “I heard you did.”
“Did what?”
“Got married.” He sounded just faintly impatient.
“No. Where’d you hear that?”
“Specs Davis. I ran into him a couple of years back. He said you were engaged.”
“No.” Stoney pointed to the tiny scar between his eyebrows. “As you can see, I’m still wearing your ring.”
Sean stared at him and then laughed.
Vic laughed too, threw him a look beneath his brows. “It took two stitches.”

Bullets raked along the flat-topped stone and they rolled apart. Sean dropped over the side and Vic followed, hearing the crash of him landing in bushes. He pulled his M spraying the hillside behind them, hearing screams of pain. He turned and followed Sean whom he could hear scrabbling down another staircase of stone.

The next few seconds were chaos. Vic kept moving and shooting — all the while aware of Sean less than a yard ahead. Bullets whined overhead. All at once the enemy was everywhere and the graying night was lit by muzzle flash and mini flares.

“Down,” Sean yelled and Vic hit the frozen ground.

He heard the whisper of a suppressed shot and knew Sean was using his MK.

He crawled into the brush. They both opened fire, ducking down as the Taliban opened fire again with machine guns. They shot, reloaded while the bullets buzzed and whizzed around them, hitting the rocks and ricocheting with lethal force.

“We’ve got to move,” Vic yelled.
He felt rather than heard Sean’s assent.
They took turns firing and covering each other’s retreat the rest of the way down the slope in a run, crawl, walk maneuver.
They were never going to make it.

Vic felt a brief and furious grief that they were not going to have that second chance after all. Maybe he didn’t deserve it, but Sean sure as hell did. He determined to take as many of these murdering bastards with them as he could.

But as they reached the ledge they heard the pound of chopper blades and looked upward to see the Chinook rocking into position above them. Time flies when you’re having fun — and Cheyney was not a girl who liked to be kept waiting. The door slid open and O’Riley was throwing down a line while Matturo and one of the door gunners laid a steady covering fire.

Sean was turning to cover him and Vic shoved him toward the line. “Climb.” He turned his M on the hillside.

Sean dragged himself up the line with what seemed to be agonizing slowness while the mountain fighters continued to fire between Vic’s bursts of fire — and the protective fire of the chopper gunners.

When Sean had neared the top, O’Riley and Matturo leaned out and hauled him into the chopper.

Vic ran for the line, climbing hand over hand. The chopper was already rising and swinging him away over the mountainside. He continued to climb as from behind the ridge the mortars were launched again. Vic hauled himself onto the cold metal flooring of the chopper and gasped.

O’Riley and Matturo were beside Sean working fast to stem what looked like a gushing artery from his thigh.

Seeing that fountain of blood Vic felt the strength go out of him. He dropped down beside Sean whose face was blanched of color in the yellow dawn, his breathing rapid and shallow.

“How bad?”
“Bad enough,” Matturo said. The tourniquet he was trying to fashion was already soaked with scarlet.
Sean’s eyes opened. They looked black. He tried to smile.

“Don’t you
dare
fucking die on me, Sean.”

Sean asked faintly, “How come you came back for me, Stoney?”

Vic had to work to get the words out. “I was always coming back for you.”

oOo

Present day, , The Craig Joint Theater Hospital at Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan

“He’s asking for you,” the weary-faced surgeon said. “Five minutes. Don’t tire him.”

Vic rose. “Is he —“” He abruptly ran out of air, but the surgeon followed him easily enough — it was a question he was familiar with by now.

“He’s still critical but…that’s one tough sailor. We’re transporting him to Germany tonight.”

Vic stepped into the trauma bay. There were four beds and a hell of a lot of state of the art equipment, and then he spotted Sean. He lay in a bed that looked like a miniature space pod and he was hooked up to a confusing web of monitors, an IV and oxygen. He looked very brown against the bleached sheets.

Vic leaned over the railing. He said softly, “Hey.”
Sean’s lashes flicked and rose. His pupils were huge with whatever drugs they were pumping into him. “Hey…”
“You okay?” Vic asked anxiously.
Sean’s face twisted a little and he bit his lip. “Please don’t…make me laugh.”
“I just mean…”
“Yeah.” Sean’s eyes closed again, his colorless mouth formed the word. “Stoney…”

“I’m right here,” Vic said, leaning still closer. He was aware of the medical personnel but only as so much equipment — stuff useful for keeping Sean alive.

“Thanks.” It was so soft he barely heard it. “For coming back. I mean…you know.”

“I should have come back a long time ago.” Vic said with sudden fierceness. “I was too big a coward. Not — not the way you think. I got over worrying about all that bullshit a long time ago.”

Sean’s face was so still. Was he even listening? It didn’t matter. Vic had been waiting a long time to say it.

“I was ashamed, Sean. I let you down. I let us both down. I didn’t think you’d ever forgive me, and I didn’t have the guts to face you. You’re such a tough sonofabitch.”

Sean’s face tightened in pain. “I forgave you a long time ago, you jackass.” His eyes opened, starred with emotion. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Vic said steadily and he didn’t give a damn who else heard it so long as Sean believed it.
Sean gave a ghost of his old laugh. “And it only took you twelve years to figure it out?”
“I never said I was fast. Just faithful.”
“Mmm.” Sean was tiring fast, but he whispered, “You planning to do anything about it?”

“You know it,” Vic said. He slipped his class ring off and gently slid it on the ring finger of Sean’s lax left hand. “The very next time we meet.”

About the

A distinct voice in gay fiction, multi-award-winning author JOSH LANYON has been writing gay mystery, adventure and romance for over a decade. In addition to numerous short stories, novellas, and novels, Josh is the author of the critically acclaimed Adrien English series, including The Hell You Say, winner of the USABookNews awards for GLBT Fiction. Josh is an Eppie Award winner and a three-time Lambda Literary Award finalist.

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