“LT, I understand your position and believe me, I’m sympathetic to your request.”

“But?”

When Viper announced, he was done with the military, he spoke the words, which had been running around in my head. I have time remaining on my contract and I will serve it with pride, but I’ve spent too much time in the desert and been away from my family far too long.

“Your skills are needed here, helping these men who are pouring in with more injuries than we can keep up with some days.”

I had heard rumbling from some of the corpsman how staff numbers were down, a product of advancements and change of duty stations. This base needed two surgeons, and for the next little while, it appears I will be one of them.

“Perhaps if things settle down, or if I can get someone from NPC to send me some additional bodies.”

Navy personnel command had a reputation for doing things in their own time and ignoring most phone calls unless you held a high enough office. I could tell by the look on his face and the way his eyes shifted, he had no intention of helping me. Captain Vale had an agenda, which didn’t include my personal tragedy.

“Thank you for your time, Sir.”

Arguing with the man would get me a letter of reprimand. If I’m honest, I don’t give a fuck about the potential loss in pay, or achieving any additional rank. What I do care about, what would affect me, is the look in my team’s eyes when the news reaches the rest of the base. Honor and integrity are important to a SEAL, especially among one another.

All those years ago, when I left this place in order to find a way to beat Death at his own game, convincing myself if I could be closer to the action, I would be in a better position to save more lives. Years of fighting against men I didn’t know, rescuing civilians and doing anything else I was commanded to do, has taught me it didn’t matter if I was standing beside a man as he was shot. If the bullet was meant to kill him, nothing I did would stop it.

As I walked across the yard, the heat of the day already climbing into triple digits, a gust of wind stirs up the dirt and sand. I can hear trucks enter the front gates bringing with them supplies and, hopefully, a few new men. I’m not the only one who has noticed the new arrivals as Ramsey stands just outside the Mess hall, a bottle of water tipped back. The fear he showed during the last mission needs to be contained and harvested to motivate him to stay alive. He needs conditioning, and I need to release the tension forming in my shoulders.

“Ramsey, get over here!”

I catch him off guard, which is evident in the way he spills half his water down the front of his uniform.

“You ain’t worked hard enough today, let’s go.” His wet clothes forgotten, he tosses the bottle into the bin and jogs in my direction.

“LT, you need me to do something?”

“Yeah, keep up.”

Not elaborating any further, I take off in the direction of the front gate. One lap around the camp is close to a mile and we are going to keep circling until this tension is gone. Carrying a gun and knowing how to shoot is half the game out here, I could stick him with Reaper for a few days and he would be well on his way to becoming an expert marksman.

Out here, you have to be conditioned, able to use the elements to your advantage. I can give him a taste of the training I have under my belt, giving him the skills he needs to survive his time in this hell.

Ramsey is sucking in serious air as we finish five miles. My breathing is labored, but not a tenth of what he is doing. “Meet me here every day at zero-five, and if I’m not here, you start running without me.” Ramsey has his hands on his knees, unable to speak, but his head is bobbing in agreement.

“You want to be a SEAL?”

I listened to the guys talking as we patrolled earlier, heard him speak of being better than his brother who found it easier to steal from people than to work hard. Ramsey spoke of his father dying in prison, and his mother pushing herself into an early grave from the choices she made in life.

“I can help you get yourself ready, condition your mind and body to survive Hell week, and the time you have left here.” Ramsey pulled his body to his full height, face flushed and covered in sweat.

“It will get worse before it gets better, so if you’re not sure, better say something now.”

Fatigue rolled off him in waves, but his eyes showed the determination of a warrior.

“I’ll be here.”

“I will kill him.” As I was about to open the door of my room, I caught the rush of words behind me.

“I don’t give a fuck what my sister did, I will kill the motherfucker.” Crossing the hall, I ignored the protocol to knock before opening the door. Someone threatening to kill another individual gave me the needed permission, and urgency for that matter.

Pushing the door open, I startle the dark-haired man who sat with his side to me, his profile one I recognize. Ross Kincaid pounded his fists into the wood of his desk, the face of a beautiful woman filling the screen. Kincaid turned his attention to me, our gazes colliding as his fury seemed to pitch.

“Who are we killing? ‘Cause you know I’m always up for a good fight.”

Not waiting for an invitation, I cross the room and sit on the edge of his bunk. My eyes swing to the woman on the screen, flashing her a smile of assurance. Her blue eyes are full of sadness, clouded with a burden she didn’t own. Kincaid stands from his desk, his anger forgotten for the moment.

“Doc, how the fuck are you?” Capturing me in a side hug, knocking the air out of me with his firm hand slapping against my back.

“I’m good, it’s been too long.” I pull back, glancing to the screen and tipping my chin. “Looks like the company you keep has gotten better.”

“Fuck you.” He jokingly points at me, and then sits back into his chair. “This is my wife, Amanda. Babe, this rude bastard is Logan Forbes, the doctor I told you about last time I was home.”

Leaning over his shoulder, donning the friendliest smile in my arsenal. “Mrs. Kincaid, it’s a pleasure to meet you. You may call me Logan.”

A pleasant smile meets watery eyes, sitting up a little straighter in what looks like a chair in a barbershop.

“I’m Amanda, and I apologize for my husband’s outburst, we were discussing some unpleasant news about his sister.”

Kincaid huffs as he leans back in his chair, turning the screen to the side and offering me a seat.

“Doc, I assume they have told you why I’m here?”

Nodding my head, “Yeah. Havoc is getting Med-Boarded because of his lungs.” The CO had asked to have a word with me after the rest of my team left his office. Command had sent the official word of his impending discharge, and while these things took months to finalize, our missions went on.

“Yes, and it fucking sucks. I feel as if I’m betraying him by being here.”

“Don’t.” I warned. Kincaid was an unofficial member of my team and my responsibility as his teammate was to tell him the truth.

“Havoc is looking forward to going home to Florida, getting back to his family’s business and his mother’s relentless search for his future wife.”

“Well,” he looked to his wife’s smiling face. “At least someone’s happy.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, the metal of my dog tags clink together from the movement. “I’m going to have to ask you to elaborate.” I out ranked him but it didn’t matter, being a member of this team was like a brotherhood of unspoken valor.

Kincaid shifted his eyes to mine, the peaks of anger brewing in the hazel orbs. He sits silent for a few minutes, contemplation reflecting in his features. “How much time you got?” Tapping his fingers against the edge of the desk.

Crossing my boots at the ankle, “As much time as it takes for you to tell me who we’re going to kill.”

“Okay, but I warn you, this isn’t a pretty story.”

“The good ones never are.” I admitted.

“I have a younger sister.” He started and my heart sank. I’d nearly forgotten about the connection between the woman who had given me something to smile about and the man who sat before me.

“Harper, right?”

An instant look of suspicion covers his face, competing head to head against the protection he felt for his sibling.

“Calm down, Blaze. She chose my name this year.” Suspicion turned to elation as he let out a victorious laugh, which rocked the room.

“Then you may end up just as pissed off as I am, considering.”

My attention captured, I motioned for him to continue. The frayed edges of anger beginning to simmer in my chest. From my brief encounter with Harper, I found her to be someone I would like to get to know. Anyone who went to as much effort as she did to help complete strangers was someone worth knowing.

“When Harper and I were younger there was this kid, Alex, who lived not far from us. He and I fell into an easy friendship and spent countless hours being boys. As we got older, Alex found more reasons to be close to Harper. I was oblivious to his attraction for her until one night I found him standing outside her bedroom door listening to her sleep. I threatened to kick his ass if he ever touched a hair on her head. Alex was a popular guy who had sampled his fair share of the female population of our high school. While he respected my wishes, he also made it impossible for anyone else to date her. There was this asshole that tried to hurt my sister and Alex stepped in and took care of things. When I saw for myself how much he cared for her, I gave him my blessing to ask her out. They dated for a while and when it came time for us to head off to college, Harper, and myself, assumed he would break things off with her. When I confronted him, he said he loved her enough to become someone so one day he could put a ring on her finger and be a part of our family. Everything was great until the Twin Towers came crashing down and he and I chose to go beat the shit out of the bastards responsible. He made good on his promise and bought her a ring, asking her to marry him. We headed off to boot camp and in the blink of an eye, found ourselves in the middle of the desert, only in different countries. He was placed on the front line and I was at the right place at the right time to save the ass of a dignitary. We were able to keep in contact until just after the New Year when his company was ordered to go out and find a missing group of soldiers. According to the report I read, Alex found the group being held prisoner and led his team into the camp, lighting up the enemy with enough C4 and bullets to kill everyone twice. As they were pulling the injured guys out of the building, a rogue sniper shot Alex in the chest. He lived long enough to make it to a field hospital, where he died from the severity of his injuries. My father was with Harper when they came to the house to tell her the news. It was Valentine’s Day and she assumed the knock at the door was a delivery for her.”

Kincaid’s voice cracked as he spoke of his friend’s death, and my heart went out to Harper for the love she lost on what was designed to be such a special day.

“Alex had all his benefits in Harper's name, including a life insurance policy which she used to open the shop she has now. She dove into the business from the moment she was handed the keys. The town hailed Alex a hero, building a park with a statue of him in the center, named a street after him and every year there is a memorial to honor him. Our old high school has a scholarship in his name, one Harper laid out the initial money for. On the anniversary of his death, she started a charity where unemployed women could come in and get a suit or dress so they could go to interviews. She teamed up with my wife and sister-in-law, who run a beauty salon next door, to get these ladies a cut or color to help boost their confidence. One afternoon, a new delivery guy came into her store, he joked around with her and developed a friendship with her, taking his time progressing the relationship further. Whether out of pressure from our family or loneliness, she caved and let him take her out. According to our father, the guy Lance, has shifty eyes and something about him rubs dad the wrong way. Two years ago, he got down on one knee and asked for her hand, she surprised us all when she said yes.”

Not certain if I agree with Kincaid, two years is enough time to heal from a death, and moving on can sometimes be the best medicine.

“Babe, you tell him the rest, you’ve been with her for it.”

Turning to the monitor, Amanda had composed herself, looking more like a proud wife than the distraught woman she was a few minutes ago.

“Lance gave Harper what she needed at the time: a relationship with no expectations. There was no chemistry between them, no sweet kisses or pet names. He let Harper hide in her shell and continue to grieve Alex's death. He also fooled her into thinking he was something he wasn’t.”

Kincaid's knuckles cracked as he listened to Amanda, the tension in the air thickening with each word spoken.

“He never ventured out after dark, reasoning the statistics for crime increasing when the sun went down. They were together for years, but she never spent the night. As far as I know they never slept together. According to her, his religion forbade it. He would come by the shop almost every morning, with a smile on his face and, after this past weekend, a lie on his lips.”

My curiosity piqued, “What happened this weekend?”

I had visions of a massive girl fight with hair pulling and one of them ending up naked and arrested when an old girlfriend showed up to express her disapproval of the couple.

“Her bridal party took her to a strip club, but the power went out and we had to move the party to a club Harper wanted to visit. Long story short, the lying bastard was there with two girls sucking his fucking dick as he fed them cocaine. She left when, instead of trying to lie his way out of it, he told her to get on her knees and join them.”

This time it was my knuckles cracking as I pictured the motherfucker hurting the selfless girl who had befriended me. Just as Kincaid had shouted earlier, I was going to kill him.

“She got up the next morning, contacted all the venders, cancelling everything and apologizing to me for the money we had to spend on airfare for Ross to come home.”

Glancing over to Kincaid, his eyes looking lovingly at Amanda.

“And now you know everything.”

I remained in Kincaid's room for a few more minutes, gaining information on this Lance Ranoka. After he ended the Facetime session with Amanda, we spoke of the mission coming up that, if the CO had his say, would be my last with this team. Bidding my friend, a good night, I checked the time and couldn’t help the smile as I calculated the difference between here and Chesapeake. Signing onto my computer, I felt good as I clicked the mouse several times and sat back, anticipating the smile I hoped would grace her face.