Collateral Damage

“Roger that.”

Over the ICS, Liam spoke to his crew. “You boys ready to rock back there?”

“Hell yes,” the FE replied, the two gu

Turning the helo to take the western edge of the base, Liam dropped altitude and did a low fly-by to allow his crew to take a good look at what was happening on the ground. Twilight had just fallen but their night vision equipment allowed them to see everything clearly. “Anything?” he asked as he finished the first run.

“Negative,” the gu

“I saw plenty of bodies, but can’t tell friendlies from tangos because they’re all in uniform. There’re lots of civilian casualties too,” the FE added.

Liam swung the Chinook around and did another sweep back the way he’d come, slower this time, sca

“Nope, still nothing,” the right-side gu

Liam radioed the tower to request permission to land and received it. He alerted his crew via their comms. “Go

Checking once more to ensure it was safe, Liam descended into position, hovered for a few moments, then touched down. The FE lowered the ramp and the Rangers rushed out.

“Happy hunting, boys,” Liam murmured, wishing he was going with them. He and Freeman kept the rotors turning, checking in with command and the tower while maintaining vigilance about their surroundings. No further threats were reported.

Throttling down the engines, he dug his phone out of the ruck he kept between the seats. As soon as he turned it on, messages began to appear.

He held his breath when he saw Honor’s number on display.

Base is under attack. I’m okay. With Ipman and Smithers, have cover.

Thank God, Liam thought on a long exhale. Felt like an anvil had been lifted off his chest.

Then, a text time-stamped just five minutes ago.

I love you. Never stopped. Need you to know that.

The desperation in the message grabbed him by the throat. That she’d said those words to him now told him just how bad things were where she was.

Fear and grief welled up inside him, making it hard to breathe. He swallowed and ran a hand down his face. He loved her too, more than she’d ever realize.

God, he couldn’t lose her now that she was letting him back in. He’d give anything to turn back the clock to yesterday and spend the entire night holding her, making love to her. He knew she would have given in if he’d pushed, but he hadn’t wanted to coerce her into anything she wasn’t ready for. He wished he’d spent the night in her bed with her, her naked body pressed tight to his.

“That Honor?” Freeman guessed.

Liam merely nodded, afraid to voice his fear aloud.

“Is she okay?”

He cleared his throat. “As of five minutes ago, yeah.” But she’d been afraid she was about to die. No way she’d have sent him that message otherwise. And a lot could have happened in five minutes, especially considering the damage the drone strikes had caused and an unknown number of shooters on the loose with automatic rifles.

She couldn’t be dead. He refused to think it, and he refused to think of her lying wounded somewhere, scared and hurting. Ripped his heart out to imagine it. The scale of the attack was unprecedented and its effects would be felt throughout the country and around the globe in a matter of hours.

His phone buzzed in his hand. He lifted it, expelling a huge sigh of relief when he saw it was Honor.

At HQ with 2 others and civilian. Locked in, safe for now. Waiting for word.

I’m on base, he typed back. Hang tight. Love you.

Her reply came a few seconds later. Love you too. Can’t wait to see you.

Liam couldn’t wait either. The first chance he got he was going to find her and grab her, hold her so tight she couldn’t breathe and not let her go for a long, long time.

But a minute later another text came in.

Someone breaking down door. We’re unarmed.

Liam’s gaze shot out his window toward where her HQ building was located, his entire body tensing. She must be desperate for help if she was texting him rather than ru

Get out or lock yourselves in an office, he ordered her, frantic to get to her. He was flight leader, but if he abandoned his helo and crew now he could get there on foot in a matter of minutes.

She’s unarmed, facing a possible shooter with an automatic weapon.

His palms began to sweat as he imagined her huddled in a dark office with whoever else was with her, while a gunman kicked the door in. He kept his eye on the digital clock on the dash, made himself wait another twenty seconds. When no further messages came, he couldn’t stand it and texted her again.

Talk to me. “Say something, please,” he whispered, ignoring the sharp look Freeman gave him.

No answer.

Fuck protocol, he was outta here. “She’s under attack,” Liam said to him as he tore off his helmet and unbuckled his harness. “Someone’s trying to break into their HQ and they’re unarmed.”

Freeman’s features tightened. “Go.”

Liam grabbed his M-4 from the rack above his door. Heart pounding, he climbed out the helo and raced in the direction of Honor’s HQ.

An MP standing guard near the LZ saw him coming and moved to cut him off, holding up a hand. “Sir—”

“I’ve got three unarmed soldiers and a civilian trapped in an HQ building and a shooter’s trying to force his way inside,” Liam snapped without slowing. He’d knock the MP unconscious if he had to, but he wasn’t letting anyone or anything stop him from getting to Honor and he’d accept the consequences of his actions later.

As he neared, the man took in Liam’s rank, glanced at the Chinook he’d just jumped out of, saw the weapon in his hands and must have figured out he was no ordinary soldier because he nodded. “I’ll come with you, sir.”

Liam didn’t answer, just blew past him and sprinted toward Honor as fast as he could, praying he got there in time.

****

Honor sat completely still behind the door they’d just entered into her CO’s office, every muscle rigid as the pounding on the rear door continued. Her heart slammed against her ribs, clammy sweat coating her face and palms. A few more solid kicks to the right place and the dead bolt lock would be useless. She turned toward the cabinets at the back of the room, where the gun safe was hidden.

Then a male voice called out. “There’s another shooter. I can’t get in—somebody open the door!”

Honor held her breath. She knew that voice. She glanced at Ipman and Smithers, who’d both lifted their heads and were staring at the door. “It’s Andrews,” Ipman said in relief, sagging a little.

“Andrews?” Smithers called out before Honor could, needing to verify his identity.

“Yeah! Lemme in!”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes! Now goddammit, somebody open this fucking door!”

Honor started to get up but Ipman stayed her with a hand on her shoulder. “I got this,” he said and rushed toward the door.

“Check first to make sure he’s not under duress,” Honor commanded in a loud whisper, ready to bolt for the gun safe at the first sign of danger. Or that there’s not a shooter with the muzzle of a rifle pressed to Andrews’s spine.

Ipman nodded and approached the door, keeping his back to the wall. When he reached the door he snuck a peek outside the square-shaped window set into the upper part of it. “He’s alone,” he said, and turned the deadbolt.