Chapter 4

I’m not gonna count to three; I’m not even gonna count to one. You will shut the fuck up, or I’ll sing you a lullaby.

-Shawshank Redemption

Max

I ignored the whispers. The looks. The pointing. It’s like fucking high school all over again. These grown adults didn’t have anything better to do but gossip, and they didn’t have the slightest idea what the hell they were even talking about, just passed off judgment based off of hearsay. Hell, it was nothing new, but it still hurt. I hated this part of my job. I didn’t enjoy inflicting pain, especially not to a teenager. He was eighteen, though, and that made him legal in the eyes of the law. It didn’t matter that he was helping his father, and doing what he was told to do. At some point, you have to start thinking for yourself, not letting others do it for you, particularly when they put your life in danger.

 

This was some sick shit that this kid was sent here to do. It’s not something that hasn’t been done before though. As of right now, the kid was in surgery having the motherfucking bomb he had surgically implanted into his goddamn stomach removed.

 

There’s no telling how long it’d been in there either. It had to be infected. The damn scar was even healed.

 

From what I learned from the kid, before they took him in to surgery, was that they were waiting for a certain political figure to get here. The kid had no idea who it was, and I’d worked on him for hours, and I knew it was the truth; he really had no clue. All non-essential personnel were evacuated from the building through low profile means so as not to tip off the dumbass’s father.

 

I needed a damn drink.

 

My sat phone chose that moment to ring, and I couldn’t help but smile when I saw who it was.

 

“Hey, pretty girl.”

 

“Hey there, soldier. Speaking of soldiers, I seem to have a new doggie soldier holding down the home base as we speak. My boss cleared him for duty at work as well. I was also diagnosed with PTSD, and now have a right to take him anywhere I want to. I even have papers! Do you happen to know who would be able to accomplish all of that in less than a week’s time frame?” Payton asked sweetly.

 

From her voice, I could tell she was teasing, and not pissed as I thought she would be.

“So, how is Alpha? Do you like him?”

 

“He’s actually very sweet. Claudia and I took him out to the track today and she showed me what to do if I ever have someone try to mug me again. She dressed in this massive protective suit, and she had me give the orders to attack. I swear to God the dog turned from sweet, docile Alpha, into Terminator Alpha in a split second. He also stops as soon as he hears my voice say ‘stop,’ no matter if I shout it or whisper it.”

 

“Well, that is what he’s trained to do. Is she having you do this in German or English?” I asked curiously.

 

“He responds to both, but she is training me in English.” Payton explained.

 

I was glad as fuck that Alpha responded well to her. A weight seemed to lift off my chest that I hadn’t even known was there.

 

“How did you sleep last night? Was Alpha there with you?”

 

She laughed and told someone to go lay down in the background, which I assumed was Alpha.

 

“I think he knows we’re talking about him, and, yes, he stayed the night for the last three days. It’s just the first time I could get a hold of you.”

 

That wasn’t surprising. Service was spotty over here any way it went, but I’d been so fucking busy the past week that I haven’t been able to return any of the phone calls I’d received.

 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Do you sleep better with him there?” I asked.

 

“Yes, I do. You know that though. You always seem to know what to do to make me feel safe. Thank you, Max.” She said huskily.

 

The way she said Max sent my dick into ‘let’s do it’ mode and she hadn’t said a single dirty thing.

 

“You’re welcome, pretty girl.”

 

“Max?” She asked quietly.

 

The tone in her voice made me come to a stop outside of Layne’s office. I turned my back towards the door and surveyed the hallway.

“Yeah, baby?”

 

“I’m ready for you to come back.” She whispered.

 

Before I could answer her, a sugary sweet voice said, “Well isn’t that sweet. Does she know what you’re doing?”

 

I heard the door open, but I’d just assumed it was Layne. Obviously, I shouldn’t assume. Payton’s swift inhalation on the other end of the line took my attention away from the sneering woman in front of me, and back to Payton, who I’m sure was fuming right about now.

 

“Apparently, the bitch slipped her leash. Perhaps we should buy her a shock collar next time.” I said mildly.

 

“You bastard.” O’Hare said and lunged.

 

Now my momma told me never hit a woman. What I did next wasn’t so much as hitting, as helping her fall. I raised my hand and wrapped it around her loose hair, guiding it away from me and using her momentum against her so that she sprawled unladylike onto the tiled floor. She went down, and I stepped into Layne’s office so I would have a witness in case this got any uglier.

 

Layne looked up in surprise as I slammed his door open, stepping in quickly to one side as O’Hare made another lunge at me.

 

Layne’s sharp “O’Hare.” Stopped her cold, and she came to attention two feet away from me. “What the hell’s going on?”

 

“O’Hare doesn’t really like me very much.” I said jovially.

 

Her outraged screech filled the room, their eyes connected and finally Layne said, “Well?”

 

“He called me a bitch!” O’Hare said.

 

“Lita, I realize that you don’t like him. He doesn’t do anything unless he’s provoked first. I took you on this case unwillingly. Now, I think it’s time you packed your belongings. I’ll have a helicopter ready to take you home at twelve hundred hours. Dismissed.”

 

O’Hare, or Lita, watched in stunned silence for a few moments before storming out of the room, slamming the door on the way.

 

“Hello?” Payton asked.

 

I’d completely forgotten that I still had the phone pressed up against my ear. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry Payton. I forgot about you while drama queen had a temper tantrum. Listen, can I call you back?”

 

“Of course, but I’ll be at work tonight, so don’t be surprised if I don’t answer.” She warned.

 

“I love you.” I said to her and then hung up the phone before she could say, or not say, anything back to my declaration.

 

I laughed inwardly. Let her chew on that.

 

Layne smiled, and it was a tad disarming since I never saw him smile. He was a stoic man, who very rarely let you see that carefree side of him.

 

“So you got yourself a girl, do ya’?”

 

“Sho’ nuff’.” I joked.

 

He rolled his eyes, very much used to my sense of humor, and continued on with business like he didn’t just fire the drama queen only minutes before.

 

“You’re actually free to go back home now. You’ll no longer be on active duty, but I’m going to get some paperwork in motion that will allow you to come in as an independent contractor just in case we ever need you again. It just takes a while. As you can tell, we were in need of you in a faster manner than that would’ve allowed.”

 

“You don’t need me to stay? Looks like you just lost one of your team.” I asked.

 

“No. She was never really part of the team; we have plenty of support, and you’ve already done your time. She was a pain in the ass is what she was. She’s with the CIA; well, technically, not even with them anymore. Apparently, she’s hard to work with; nobody wants her, including us.”

 

I couldn’t argue with that point. The bitch was nuts. Good riddance.

 

“Alright, when can I leave?”

 

“If you can stand it, you can ride out with Lita. Otherwise, the next ride out won’t be for another two days.” Layne said, with an evil glint in his eyes.

 

Fucker. He knew I would want to leave as soon as I could. Looks like I was trading one shit place for another. At least for another fourteen hours, that is.

 

A packed duffle, a cleaned gun, a goodbye said, and two hours later found me sitting in the huey from Speicher to Baghdad, and from there I would jump a military flight to the states. I still had three more stops once I reached the states. If it all played out well, I would make it back in time to see Payton tomorrow morning before she got off work.

 

I’d been seated on the huey for over ten minutes before O’Hare finally showed. She was practically snarling with rage, and I couldn’t help but think I was one lucky SOB. She threw her stuff in with little regards to who was on the receiving end of her anger. Her rifle was tossed in with a recklessness that wasn’t smart when dealing with firearms. My foot went up as her rifle sailed across the metal floor, and I stepped down to stop its progress before it sailed out the open door on the other side. She snarled at me as she got in the door, and grabbed the rifle.

 

Without saying thank you, might I add.

 

O’Hare refused to strap in, and I didn’t care enough to convince her. Little did I know that she had a reason for doing the things she did.

 

We were about twenty feet in the air when the helicopter exploded.

 

I was disoriented. My mind wasn’t working. Lights were bright. The heat of something was so intense that my skin sizzled. Everything hurt. I couldn’t see. I heard screaming, but I couldn’t tell if it was me, or someone else. It went on like that for minutes, or maybe hours, hell I don’t know. Finally, finally, darkness overcame me, and I found peace.

***

I woke on a military flight to the states.

 

From what was explained to me, I wasn’t in critical condition. I had burns on parts of my body, but it wasn’t significant. I had a broken arm, lacerations on my chest and neck, and a severe concussion. The concussion must’ve been why my head felt like a party I wasn’t invited to was happening in my skull. It throbbed in time to my heartbeat, and I might have thrown up on the cute little nurse that was changing out my fluids at the time.

 

I was checked over by medical personnel at Speicher before they decided to take me back to the states on a direct military flight, instead of to Germany.

 

I was lucky. The same couldn’t be said for O’Hare, whose body was unable to be recovered from the wreckage due to the flames that overtook the Huey not long after they pulled the pilot out. The pilot had third degree burns on nearly seventy percent of his body, as well as many broken bones. He’d be lucky even to make it through the night.

 

I smiled widely at the nurse who was in the process of lowering my blanket and checking out my left hip where, apparently, I had another large gash.

 

“We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

 

She laughed, but continued with her work. She was cute. Short, with about shoulder length brown hair. She reminded me of someone, but, right now, my brain was high on the good shit, and I was close to not caring about anything.

 

“Careful there, Cowboy. What would Payton think if she found out you were checking out another nurse?” Layne said from beside me.

 

“Who’s Payton?”