Because of The Brave - lanyon Josh - Страница 34
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Sean’s voice was abrupt. “I heard you did.”
“Did what?”
“Got married.” He sounded just faintly impatient.
“No. Where’d you hear that?”
“Spec Davies. 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 M4 spraying the hillside behind them, hearing screams of pain. He turned and followed Sean who 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 MK23.
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 M4 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.”
Present day, 1750, 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.”
Thank you for your purchase of Because of the Brave by Laura Baumbach, Josh Lanyon and Z.A. Maxfield. Fifteen percent of this purchase at the Aspen Mountain Press web site between now and September 11, 2009 will be donated toward the Servicemembers Legal Defense Network, a national organization dedicated to helping military personnel impacted by the “don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t pursue” policy signed into law in 1993. We urge you to support organizations that protect the civil liberties of all members of our society. It is our hope to raise over $1,000 to donate to SLDN, so please spread the word.
Please stop by www.AspenMountainPress.com and take a look at our collection of excellent GBLT stories including:
Burn Card by Laura Baumbach:
Las Vegas criminalist Cody Baxter struggles to save himself and his kidnapper before Cody’s lover, Gil, finds him-and rescue becomes revenge.
Josh Lanyon’s Snowball in Hell:
It's 1943 and the world is at war. Journalist Nathan Doyle has just returned home from North Africa-still recovering from wounds received in the Western Desert Campaign-when he's asked to cover the murder of a society blackmailer.
Lt. Matthew Spain of the LAPD homicide squad hates the holidays since the death of his beloved wife a few months earlier, and this year isn’t looking much cheerier what with the threat of attack by the Japanese and a high-profile homicide investigation. Matt likes Nathan; maybe too much.
If only he didn’t suspect that Nathan had every reason to commit murder.
And Z.A. Maxfield’s The Long Way Home:
When young boys go missing, psychic Kevin Quinn is called in to help the police department. Quinn's partner is Connor Dougal, a newer detective on the force, and a skeptic when it comes to psychic abilities. That is until strange things
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