For the last three weeks, Dutch’s relationship with Alegria had been strained to the point of snapping. They hardly spoke except to argue, and the limitations she had to accept as part of her recovery made her beyond irritable.

Dutch knew that wasn’t the only thing contributing to her overall cantankerous mood; no one had heard from Mantis in over a week. Neither she nor Dutch had heard from him since he walked out of Razor’s house on Thanksgiving.

“We’re cleared to go in,” Doc said when Dutch answered his call.

‘‘I want to be the lead.”

“Done.”

“With Alegria grounded, Onyx is our only option to fly your team to Africa. I’ll have to contract a co-pilot.”

“Let me talk to him and see if he has anyone he’d recommend,” Dutch offered.

“I’d appreciate it.”

“Hey, Doc, would you mind keeping this between us until I have time to brief Alegria.”

“Say no more.”

“Thanks.”

Dutch had to figure out a way to tell Alegria not just about the mission, but who he was going in to extract.

He went into the kitchen to grab something to eat, regretting that his time at the house he was rarely at, was coming to such an abrupt end after such a short visit.

He’d purchased and renovated it back when he was stationed at Langley. Originally, he’d intended to flip it, but once he finished the updates, he decided not to.

It had always been easy to rent given its close proximity to the base. Luckily, the last tenant had PCS’d right before Thanksgiving, and Dutch hadn’t relisted it.

When they were getting ready to leave Cambria after Thanksgiving, Dutch asked Alegria what she thought about going to Newport News with him when she was cleared for travel.

“If I could get home, I wouldn’t be such a burden to you.”

“Meaning where? New York?” As far as he knew, she hadn’t set foot in the apartment her parents had purchased for her in more than a year, maybe longer.

“Marseille,” she’d responded as though he were an idiot.

“Manon…we need to talk,” he said when she walked into the kitchen.

That got her attention. He rarely called her by anything but her Air Force pilot call sign.

“About?”

“There’s a mission…”

Her eyes met his, and whatever anger she’d been feeling moments ago seemed to morph into worry. “What is it?”

Mantis was almost to Mogadishu when he saw the roadblock. Two decrepit-looking pickup trucks, both mounted with heavy, ancient artillery, were waiting.

A dozen men jumped off of each and swarmed his Jeep, firing into the air all around him. They pulled him out, hit him over the head, and dragged him to one of their vehicles. There was blood seeping from a gash in his scalp, which his captors chose to ignore.

He spoke enough Arabic to understand they were taking him north and inland to Cadaado, the opposite direction of Mogadishu and Dinlave, where Striker was waiting.

Near sundown they arrived at their destination. Even after the sun had set, it was still at least one hundred degrees.

Mantis was blindfolded and led to a foam mattress. He could hear several Somalis yelling and what sounded like other hostages being beaten.

Merry Christmas, he thought to himself. Welcome to hell.

Before he’d even told her about the mission, Alegria had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. At first she thought it was not knowing whether Mantis would show up for Christmas like he had for Thanksgiving. This felt worse, though, as if something was terribly wrong.

“When do you leave?” she asked, knowing it had to be soon.

“Tonight. Look, I know it’s almost Christmas, and I’m sorry—”

She held up her hand. “Don’t be. I understand.”

“I wasn’t sure you would.”

“What do you mean?”

“If Mantis had sprung something like this on you…”

She rested her hand on his arm. “This is different. If the situations were reversed and he was telling me he had to go in and extract you, I would understand in the same way I do now.”

Dutch reached out and stroked her cheek. “We’ll leave at sixteen hundred.”

Alegria nodded and moved closer to him, wishing they hadn’t spent the last three weeks arguing as much as they had.

“I’m worried about you,” he said, kissing each eyelid, her cheeks, and then her lips. “You’re very pale.”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing. Probably withdrawals from the pain meds messing with me.”

“The doctor told you it was too soon to stop taking them.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. It felt so good to just relax into his comfort.

“Are you sure you want this?” he murmured before he brought his lips to hers a second time.

Alegria backed away, taking his hand, and leading him into the bedroom.

Once there, she pulled her sweater over her head, and then pushed her wool skirt down until it slid from her hips to the floor. Dutch’s eyes traveled the length of her body as she stood before him in nothing but her bra and panties.

“Make love to me, Dutch.” She held her hand out to him as she sat on the bed.

In seconds he was on her, as though he was hurrying to get her naked before he changed his mind. His fingers released the clasp on her bra and he pulled it from her body.

“Lie down,” he said, taking her panties in both hands and sliding them down her legs.

“Please, Dutch,” she begged as he stood above her, studying her body.

She watched as he undressed, walked to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled out a foil packet. He rolled on the condom and came to rest between her legs. “Do you know how much I love you?”

She nodded, but she couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Manon…”

“I’m sorry…I can’t…” she cried, tears running down her cheeks.

Dutch got off the bed and went into the bathroom. He came back out seconds later, grabbed his clothes, and stalked from the bedroom.

“Get dressed. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready,” she heard him say.

Dutch dressed as he went, storming out the back door, into the garage, and over to the punching bag that hung from the rafters. He slammed his fists into it over and over again, cursing his stupidity.

She wasn’t his. She never really had been. Alegria used him to ease the pain of losing Mantis. Why couldn’t he accept that as the truth? Why did he talk himself out of it only to have the reality hit him in the face again? Because he loved her. As much of an idiot as that made him, he’d loved her since the day they’d met.

She was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. She was beautiful, brash, and smart as hell. She had a wicked sense of humor, and for a while, he’d believed he had as much of a shot at getting her to date him as Mantis had. Even then, he’d been lying to himself.

Their drive to Annapolis was silent. When he turned on music, Alegria abruptly turned it off and sat with her arms crossed. She refused to look at or speak to him, although he had nothing to say to her either.

Sometime during the night, one of the Somalis woke Mantis and handed him a piece of stale bread, a can of tuna, and a bottle of water. After he ate, the same man led him to a hole in the ground where he motioned for him to urinate. After he had, the man led him back to the mattress, chained his legs together first, and then his hands.

The next morning, they dragged him out into the sunlight and tossed him in the back of the pickup truck along with two other men chained like he was. They were blindfolded and gagged before the truck jerked into gear.

When it stopped more than an hour later, his blindfold was removed, and Mantis saw they had been brought to a different dwelling. The sun was blazing, and without having had water since the night before, Mantis felt faint from dehydration.

When one of the other captives fell on the way inside the house, the man leading him kicked him repeatedly before dragging him the rest of the way in.

Mantis did everything he could to stay on his feet, hoping that once they were inside, they’d be given something to drink, at least. If he didn’t hydrate soon, he’d likely become delirious.

“What your name?” one of the younger-looking Somalis asked him.

“Jim,” he said, reciting the name on the fake identification he had on him.

“You okay, Jim?” the kid asked.

“No. I need water.”

The Somali left, but returned moments later with two bottles.

“I unchain you, Jim, you no try to escape,” he told him.

Mantis nodded, grateful for the drink.

“You rich, Jim?”

“Not at all.”

“They asking lot of money for you.”

“They won’t get it. I have no money.”

“No lie, Jim,” the kid said, smiling an almost toothless grin and leaving him with his hands unshackled.

Dutch parked the car in the driveway of Gunner’s mother’s house and walked around to open the passenger door. Alegria got out and started walking toward the house.

“Aren’t you coming inside?” she asked when he didn’t move from where he stood.

“Just to bring your bag in.”

She walked back over to him. “Be safe,” she said, reaching up to touch his face with shaking hands, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Is that for me or him?” Dutch asked, hearing the edge of his own voice.

“Both of you.”

He pulled her to him and held her close. “I love you so much,” he murmured, wishing she would say it back, but knowing it would be the worst possible time for her to.