Read Forgive & Forget (Love in the Fleet) Online
Authors: Heather Ashby
Tags: #contemporary fiction, #romance novels, #romance mystery novels, #contemporary women, #romantic suspense, #new adult romance, #series, #military romance, #romance, #romance books, #series romance, #new adult, #romance mystery, #romance mystery books, #contemporary romance, #women's fiction
What had the Safety Officer said? The ship had to be steaming at thirty knots in order to launch aircraft? But wait. He’d told them something else. Something about the helicopters.
“
We always keep a couple of helos on the flight deck, so they’re ready at a moment’s notice
.” So maybe Sky was already airborne.
Surely the
Blanchard
had turned to alternate sources for radar, and Air Ops had taken over surveillance and reconnaissance by now. The helicopters and gunners on the roof could get a visual with night vision capability and search lights. And while the lookouts would be outfitted with fifty caliber machine guns, the helos could also carry laser targeted Hellfire missiles capable of shredding the dhows and every living thing on board.
Oh, please, Sky
.
Please get to the dhows before they get to us
.
Hallie’s feet, shins, and knees registered vibrations in the deck just before she heard the roar of jet engine exhaust against a blast deflector. The rumble was followed by the distinct thunder of a catapult launching an aircraft.
Davis’s eyes flew to the overhead. “Goddamn it, are those planes taking off?”
Hallie lied. “Maybe one of your boats got through and it’s an explosion. Come on, Rashid. You’re a good man. I don’t want to see you die. I can get a helo for us, but we have to leave now!” Hallie felt another slight lurch. Please let that be aircraft launching and not an explosion. Surely the ship had gone to General Quarters by now and the rest of the crew had been alerted.
He shoved her away with his free hand. “Shut up, bitch! No way am I falling for your whore bullshit. A good man. Right.”
Philip had died a thousand deaths when the Chief Engineer passed the word they were at General Quarters because “Petty Officer McCabe was being held hostage in CDC by a shipmate with a bomb strapped to his chest.”
While Philip was secretly proud she was broadcasting live, he also knew she’d likely be the first to die if the hostage-taker found out. Once the Combat Systems Officer had shut off all 1MC announcements in the vicinity of CDC, the Commanding Officer on the Bridge was able to inform the crew of the situation, using bricks, phones, and email to pass more detailed information to key personnel.
Thank God for technology. This battle was being fought with handheld radios, sound powered phones, and computers—along with a few F/A -18 Super Hornets and Seahawk helicopters with Hellfire missiles thrown in for good measure. While executing the emergency launch induced a bit of panic on the roof, getting the ship up to speed down in Engineering was fairly routine.
But not for Philip Johnston. The announcement that Petty Officer McCabe was being held hostage in CDC kept echoing through his soul. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to get to her, as he did his part in assisting the Chief Engineer.
He forced himself to focus on his priorities: Ship, shipmate, self.
Only the officers and chiefs had been given the specific details: McCabe was being held at gunpoint by a disgruntled OS2 Davis, who was wired to explode. He’d conveniently allowed five suicide dhows to literally slip under the radar and gain access to the inner zone. There were roughly fifteen OS watchstanders in the space that would die if the bastard blew up. Despite the guilt Philip felt about it, his overriding concern was that OS2 Davis had a gun to Hallie’s head.
Philip removed all thoughts of her from his brain. If they didn’t get moving faster and those dhows got into range, the entire ship could be in mortal danger. One spark in the wrong place would set off the jet fuel and/or the weapons magazines. They had to be underway in order to launch the planes. The helos would be airborne already, but the fixed-wing planes needed thirty plus knots of wind in order to take off. And with next to no wind tonight, it meant they’d have to travel that much faster to generate the required wind to launch a fully loaded F-18.
It gave him hope knowing Sky was probably already up there, searching out the dhows. And once Sky was airborne, his crew would be locked and loaded and ready to fire.
This is what you’ve trained for, Sky
.
Go get those sons of bitches!
He couldn’t let thoughts of Hallie distract him. And he couldn’t think about his men—and woman—down here in the hole, within spitting distance of the reactor spaces. Close to where the dhows would hit if they didn’t get the fucking ship moving faster. The ship came first. Then he could worry about his division and the woman he loved who currently had a gun held to her head—and then, and only then, would he consider thinking about himself.
The hell with himself.
He had to focus on doing his part in getting the ship underway. He hoped and prayed Hallie and the duty OSs could hold on until Security—or more likely the embarked SEAL team—could neutralize the asshole who was set to blow in Combat. He knew the men would have the brawn to do it and Hallie certainly had the brains. Who better to manipulate that sorry fucker than Hallie McCabe?
What had her mom called her? A daughter with balls?
“Well, this would be the time to pull ’em out and use ’em, honey,” Philip mumbled under his breath. It was the last thing he did before an explosion rocked his world and everything went black.
A thud shuddered through CDC, strong enough for Hallie to lose her balance. She reacted quickly, afraid Davis would think she was moving of her own accord.
“What the hell was that?” Davis said, glancing around.
Hallie grabbed his attention before he could turn to see Dixon making his way toward them on the deck. “Maybe it’s one of the fishing boats that got through.” She got right up into Rashid’s face and turned the charm on full blast, praying he wouldn’t see how badly her hands were shaking. “Look, you
are
a good man. You’ve just had a bad experience. Please, come with me. Let’s get away while we can.”
Her peripheral vision reported that Dixon had worked his way out from under the console and into plain sight. She willed her eyes not to look over Davis’s shoulder.
Every cell in her body screamed at Rashid:
Do not look behind you!
Dixon would need another minute to get close enough and then what? She knew if he jumped Davis now and knocked him forward, the bomb could go off. But what other choice did they have? Maybe if she stood in front of Davis, he’d fall against her and—
But Davis was done pussy footing around. “There’s no more time for this crap. All kinds of shit’s going on out there. It’s time to do my part. Kiss your asses goodbye. We’re going to Paradise, folks!”
He laughed. He actually
laughed
.
Rashid opened his camouflage shirt, exposing the explosives. His fingers fondled the top of the plunger as he smiled at her with eyes that were now cold and dead. She picked her heart up off the deck and prayed for long life.
In one swift move, Dixon lunged for Rashid’s back, yanking his arms behind him. “You son of a bitch!” Dixon cried out. The gun fell free to the deck and Hallie grabbed for it out of blind instinct. She pointed it at Davis. Her minimal weapons training kicked in from somewhere. But what about the bomb?
“You think I’m afraid of a gun, McCabe? You shoot me and the bomb goes off. We’re all going to die one way or the other.” He struggled against Dixon, trying to free his arms to push in the plunger.
Dixon yelled, “Shoot him, McCabe! Shoot him!”
“The bomb! I’ll hit the bomb!”
Davis wrapped a foot around Dixon’s leg, tripping him, and as the two fell backward, one of Davis’s arms came free. He reached for the plunger, grinning madly. “This is for you, Rosie!”
Hallie cried, “Duck, Dixon!” and blew the grin right off Rashid’s face.
Chapter 29
“Freeze!” Dixon yelled. “Nobody move!”
Hallie had slammed her eyes shut and prayed she didn’t hit both of them, or the bomb, when she’d pulled the trigger. Her heart started beating again, because Dixon sounded strong, and apparently she was still alive. They all were.
Except Davis.
She felt herself slipping into shock, but willed her body not to move, except to lower the gun and open her eyes. She glanced around madly, avoiding the carnage on the deck, refusing to poison her mind with the vision. Turning just her head, she met Commander Haggman’s eyes. How she wished she could remove the tape from his mouth so he could take charge, but she didn’t dare move.
He nodded to her as if he could read her mind.
“Talk to me, Dixon!” called out the senior chief OS.
“Except for dripping in who-the-fuck-knows-what, I think I’m okay.”
Hallie gagged, swallowed, refused to look.
Dixon spit. “I don’t think you hit me, McCabe, but I’m sure as hell not moving ’til this bomb is defused to find out.”
The senior chief took over, addressing the CDC Officer and then the men. “Sir, I’m going to take the con until we can get you free. The person closest to the door, walk out very carefully.”
“No! Don’t move.” Hallie reported to the air. “This is MC2 McCabe. We have a bomb in CDC. Send EOD ASAP. The suicide bomber is dead, but he’s wired with explosives and we don’t know what to do. Maybe…maybe twenty personnel in here. Send help now!”
Every head turned as the inner-door to CDC opened and a suited-up explosive ordnance disposal team slowly filed in. “Make a hole! Make a hole!” the leader said and the line of OS watchstanders parted like the Red Sea.
The senior chief was stunned. “How’d you do that, McCabe?”
“The audio portion of the camera was broadcasting through the wireless system the entire time. The digital signal feeds a monitor in Public Affairs. Thank God somebody up there was listening. EOD must have been waiting in the passageway.”
“Damn, I’ll never trash the press again in my life. Good job, cameraman.”
“Don’t thank me,” James replied from the deck, still lying stock-still. “McCabe turned it on when she went for the lights.”
“Whoa, McCabe! You’re a McHero!” cried the senior chief without moving. “You too, Dixon. You both deserve a medal for this.”
“Keep your medal, Senior. Just get me out of this clusterfuck,”
Dixon mumbled, as if afraid to move his lips.
“Don’t anybody move,” one of the EOD techs from the bomb squad said in a surprisingly calm voice. “Except those of you behind me. You’re cleared to exit this space and report directly to Medical for evaluation. The rest of you stay where you are for now.”
For the first time since this bizarre ordeal started, the reality of what just happened—that she’d killed a man—soaked in. Hallie’s body began to shake uncontrollably. She willed herself to remain calm but panic was rapidly winning the battle. Her stomach threatened to slide from her body, the way the blood was draining from her face. Her hands grew cold. The gun still held tightly in her right. She wanted it out of her hand now. But no way she was going to move. Hallie had the rest of her life to move freely. And she hoped that would be a long, long time.
But not now.
She refused to pass out, or look at the two bodies entwined on the deck in front of her. She brushed aside every horrible thought and picture that tried to invade her brain, filing them away into a little compartment she would deal with later.
Besides they weren’t out of the woods yet. There was still a bomb to defuse.
Turning her head a fraction of an inch, she saw the Combat Officer still taped and gagged, his eyes focused on the EOD squad. He caught her glance and his eyes softened as he nodded to her. She felt her mouth tremble, but he nodded again repeatedly, trying to tell her that everything was okay.
Just hold on.
She couldn’t turn far enough to see any of the other OSs, some standing, some probably still lying on the deck. And James was back there too. Thank you, sweet Jesus, there was someone she knew. Someone she could hold on to once they could move. And she wanted to hug Dixon and make sure she hadn’t hurt him, once he was cleaned up. She quickly filed away what he must look like right now. And Davis. Holy Mother of God, she had just shot him in the…the hell with the rules of no touching. Hallie knew somebody needed to hold her pretty soon or she was going to come apart at the seams.
Philip.
She’d locked Philip away in another corner of her brain and now she almost lost it. What was that last unexplainable thud that reverberated through the ship. It certainly wasn’t a plane launching. What if the ship had been hit? What if he was down in the hole? What if—?
No, she couldn’t go there.
Two members of the EOD team were now moving past her. Slowly. “Everybody just stay calm and don’t move until we tell you to.”
“Holy shit,” one of them muttered under his breath as he approached what must have been Davis’ faceless body draped over Dixon. “Okay,” he said to the other one. “Looks like a standard ‘do-it-yourself Saturday Night Special’ from the Internet.” He turned back to face all of them. “Listen up. We’re going to get the rest of you out of here before we dismantle this bomb. One by one, starting with the person closest to the door, I want you to slowly walk out. And do not even think of slamming it.” Turning to Commander Haggman, he smiled and said, “We’ll cut you loose as soon as they’re all out of here, sir.”
While the OS watchstanders slowly filed out, he noticed the gun in Hallie’s hand. “Don’t tell me you did this, McCabe.”