Six Minutes To Midnight

Her gaze followed the SEAL as he ran to one corner of the huge field, turned and kept running, his powerful thighs pushing him forward with ease.

Kinsley’s heart beat faster and her breathing became more labored as she watched the man’s tight buttocks and well-defined legs. If she were into gingers, he’d be the one to catch. Thank goodness she wasn’t.

Nevertheless, she slowed to a fast walk, letting McGuire widen the gap between them. She didn’t want to risk running into him again at the end of her run. The man had complication written all over him.

When she arrived back at her quarters, she found a note stuck to the door.

Meeting at command center ASAP.

Kinsley had never received a message like that. Her pulse kicked up a notch, but she focused on staying calm. For all she knew, someone might have lodged a complaint about her exercising Agar too close to the living quarters. Or they were switching her to night shift.

She refused to get excited and dare to think she might be sent on an actual mission.

Chapter Two

T-Mac had just stepped out of the shower facility when Big Jake found him.

“Meeting in the command center, now,” Big Jake said.

“Give me two minutes to get dressed.” T-Mac hurried in his flip-flops toward his quarters, threw on his uniform, hat and boots and ran out the door, buttoning his jacket as he went. He jogged all the way to the command center and stepped inside the air-conditioned containerized office unit.

Inside, his team sat around a long, narrow table. Navy Commander Trevor Ward stood at the head of the table, his gaze on T-Mac as he entered. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get this party started.”

T-Mac remained standing near the door, his curiosity piqued, his adrenaline pumping. He preferred missions to boredom any day.

“We’re all ready to mobilize back to the States—” the commander held up his hand “—and as far as everyone is concerned, we will still be leaving in four days. However, we just received intel on a trade deal going down tonight on the border of Somalia.”

The team waited quietly for Commander Ward to continue.

“You might ask what we have to do with trade in this area. But here’s the deal. Someone from around here has been funneling shipments of weapons from around Camp Lemonnier to the Al-Shabaab terrorists in Somalia. Intel intercepted a text communication from a burner cell phone nearby. Apparently, there will be handoff of a shipment conducted tonight in one of the abandoned, shelled-out villages on the other side of the border between Djibouti and Somalia.” He nodded to his assistant, who clicked the keys on a laptop.

A map of the Horn of Africa blinked up on the whiteboard behind the commander.

Commander Ward turned to point at the location marked with a red dot. “The mission is simple. We go in, capture the traitors involved and return them to camp.”

“All in a night’s work,” Harm said. “What’s the catch?”

“Previous attempts by army rangers to recon this village were met with explosives.”

“As in mortars and rocket-propelled grenades?” Buck asked.

The commander’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Not so easy. IEDs and land mines. That’s why we’ll have two additional members on our team.”

As if on cue, the door behind T-Mac opened and a German shepherd entered, followed by Specialist Kinsley Anderson, still dressed in her PT uniform of shorts, a T-shirt and running shoes.

The woman glanced around the room full of men and lifted her chin. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got here as soon as I received word of the meeting.”

“No worries,” the commander said. He waved his hand toward her. “Team, meet Specialist Anderson and Sergeant Agar. They will be with us on this mission tonight.”

All eyes turned to the only female in the room.

T-Mac’s pulse quickened. He’d never been on a mission with a female. Would having a woman in the mix change the dynamics of his team? Not that he was superstitious, but would the others be worried that a woman would jinx their mission?

He glanced around the room at the others’ gazes. For the most part, they appeared more curious than apprehensive.

“Anyone have any issues?” the commander asked.

Specialist Anderson’s chin rose another notch, her gaze sweeping the room full of men, challenging them with just that one look.

Big Jake shrugged. “I’d be glad to have a dog ahead of us. I’ve seen what one can do. They’re pretty amazing.”

“Same,” Buck said. “Rather sniff out the bombs than step on one.”

The rest of the men voiced agreement.

“Then get ready, you leave in—” Commander Ward glanced down at his watch “—one hour.”

T-Mac followed Anderson out of the building. “Do you need help getting ready?” he asked.

“I think I can figure it out,” she said, stepping out smartly and moving toward the containerized living quarters.

Falling in step beside her, T-Mac hustled to keep up. “Is this your first mission outside the wire?” he asked.

She tensed and frowned. “I know my job, and I know what to carry and wear into combat. You don’t have to coddle me because I’m female.”

He held up his hands. “Oh, believe me, I wouldn’t dare do that.” Then he ruined it with a chuckle. “I’d help out the new guy, male or female. I like to come back with all the people we left with intact.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so defensive.”

“I’m sure you have a right to be.”

She lifted her shoulders and let them drop. “I get tired of people underestimating my abilities just because I’m a woman.”

“I’ve seen you two in action. I have complete confidence in you and Agar.”

The dog lifted his head at the sound of his name and then looked forward again, trotting alongside his handler.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about us. We can handle our job. We’ll keep you and your team safe from explosives.”

“And we’ll do our best to keep you and Agar safe from loose bullets.”

She shot him a hint of a smile. “Thanks.” By then, they were standing in front of her quarters. Specialist Anderson frowned. “I didn’t ask where we should meet.”

T-Mac’s lips twisted. “We’ll be loading up in helicopters. If you like, I can swing by and we can walk over together.”

Her frown cleared. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

“My pleasure,” he said, and left her at her door to hurry toward his own quarters, where he’d gear up for the mission ahead.

In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but worry about the addition to their team. The SEALs trained together. They hadn’t trained with a dog handler working out in front of them. Specialist Anderson and Agar might know what they were doing when it came to sniffing out bombs, but they had no experience in hostile environments.

When T-Mac entered the containerized quarters he shared with Harm, his roommate glanced up from assembling his M4A1 rifle with the SOPMOD upgrade. “Hey, T-Mac.”

“Harm.” T-Mac pulled a hard plastic case out from under his bunk, extracted his rifle and pulled it apart piece by piece. He’d cleaned it after his last mission and had assembled and disassembled it a number of times since. Handling his weapon was second nature.

“Saw you walked the dog handler back to her quarters,” Harm said.

“Yeah.” T-Mac stiffened. “So?”

Without looking up from what he was doing, Harm continued. “You know we were just kidding about fixing you up with a female, right?”

T-Mac snorted. “No. I fully expect you guys to bombard me with women.”

Harm gave a twisted grin. “You’re right. But we’d wait until we got back to the States. What with how touchy folks are about not fraternizing while deployed.”

With a frown, T-Mac shook his head. “If this is about Specialist Anderson, forget it. I only offered to help her get ready for the mission. She hasn’t actually been on one before.”

Harm’s head shot up. “Never?”

His chest tightening, T-Mac pressed his lips together. “Everyone has to have a first time.”

His roommate frowned. “I’d rather it wasn’t with us.”

“Would you rather she went out with some teenaged infantry soldiers who are barely out of boot camp?”

Harm sighed. “I suppose not. But I don’t like the idea of babysitting when we have a mission to accomplish.”

T-Mac pulled the bolt from his weapon, inspected it and shot it back home, reassembling the weapon in record time. “I’d almost rather take my chances with the mines and IEDs than risk losing her and the dog.”

“Not me,” Harm said. “Remember what happened to Roadrunner when he got too far ahead of the rest of us on that extraction mission in Afghanistan?”

T-Mac’s stomach clenched at the memory.

Roadrunner had been point man when he’d stepped on a land mine. Thankfully for Roadrunner, he’d died instantly. The team had been left to pick up the pieces, physically and mentally.

“Hopefully Anderson and Agar know their stuff,” T-Mac muttered.

“Yeah. But they’re all about sniffing out explosives. We have to worry about the snipers. A lot of money goes into training dogs and handlers.”

“And SEALs,” T-Mac reminded him.

Harm nodded. “That’s a given. I’d like to make it back to the States in four days. Talia will be waiting at my apartment. I let her use it for a place to stay while she’s house hunting.”

T-Mac shot a glance toward his teammate. “I thought you two were a thing?”

“We are. But I want her to be sure. Moving from Africa back to the States is a big deal. And dating a SEAL won’t make it much easier.” Harm lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t want to pressure her. She needs time to make up her own mind and be comfortable with herself.”

“Before she commits to you?”

“Yeah.” Harm grinned. “You know our lives aren’t easy even for us. I want her to know how it is and what she can expect before we tie the knot.”

“What happened to being confirmed bachelors? I thought we were a team. And now you all have women.” T-Mac shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

Harm chuckled, pulled his steel-plated vest out of his go bag and laid it out on his bunk. “You’ll get it when you find the woman who makes you reconsider everything you ever thought to be true.”

“Now you’re starting to sound sappy. I’m not sure I want to find a woman who makes me go soft.” T-Mac strapped a scabbard around his calf and stuck his Ka-Bar knife into it. “Next thing you know, you’ll be second-guessing yourself on the battlefield.”

“Never.” Harm shrugged into his vest and secured several empty magazines into the straps. “Let’s quit flapping our gums and go meet up with your cute dog handler.”

“She’s not my dog handler.”

“No?” Harm gave him a side-eye glance and raised one eyebrow. “Sure looked like it to the rest of us.”

“She’s not my dog handler,” T-Mac insisted, his tone hard, his lips tight.

“Whatever you say.” Harm grabbed his helmet and stepped out of the box. “But between the two of you redheads, you’d make some really cute redheaded babies.”

“She’s not my redhead,” T-Mac said through clenched teeth as he snagged his helmet and followed Harm. “And we’re not having babies.”

“Who’s having babies?” Buck fell in step behind Harm and T-Mac. “If T-Mac is planning on marrying the dog handler, they can start their own ginger basketball team. Or hockey team. Or whatever team they want. They’d all be gingers.”

“We’re not getting married. She’s not my dog handler, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything around her about babies and basketball teams.” T-Mac picked up the pace, hoping that by walking faster, his teammates wouldn’t have the time nor desire to poke fun at him.

Pitbull and Big Jake stepped out of the quarters they shared.

“What’s this about babies and basketball teams?” Pitbull asked. “Is T-Mac marrying his dog handler?”

T-Mac threw his hand in the air. “She’s not my dog handler.”

Big Jake chuckled. “I think he protests too much. I swear I saw something between the two of them.”

“You can’t see something that wasn’t there.” T-Mac sighed. “I get it. This is all part of razzing me because I choose to stay a bachelor and have my pick of women out there while you losers commit to being with one woman for the rest of your lives. I think I have the better deal.”

“What deal?” Diesel jogged to catch up to the team. “What did I miss?”

“T-Mac’s met his match,” Buck said.

T-Mac gritted his teeth. “I didn’t.”

“His dog handler?” Diesel guessed.

“She’s not my dog handler.” T-Mac might as well have been talking to a wall.

“Oh, he’s going to fall hard,” Diesel said. “She’s got attitude and a dog. A killer combination. What’s not to love about that?”

“I’m not in love. She’s not my handler, and I don’t even think the dog likes me.” He glanced toward the container where Specialist Anderson was staying and debated walking past and letting her find her own way to where the helicopters were parked. But he’d promised to walk with her. He slowed, hoping the rest of the team would walk on without questioning why he was stopping.

But he knew them better than that. They weren’t stupid and they would figure it out pretty quickly.

“Look, guys, could you be serious for once?” He turned and raised his hand to knock on the door.

All five of his friends came to a complete stop.

T-Mac groaned as the door opened.

Agar came out first and immediately sniffed T-Mac’s crotch.

A rumble of chuckles sounded behind T-Mac.

“I guess the dog likes you after all,” Buck muttered.

More chuckles sounded.

Heat rose up T-Mac’s neck into his cheeks as he glanced up at Specialist Anderson. “Don’t listen to anything these yahoos say. They’re all full of... Well, they’re full of it, anyway.”

KINSLEY TORE HER gaze away from the SEAL standing in front of her looking all hot and incredibly sexy in his combat gear. Beyond Petty Officer McGuire stood five of the other men who’d been in the command center minutes before. She stepped out of the doorway, looped the strap of her rifle over her shoulder and double-wrapped the dog’s lead around her hand. “What am I not supposed to listen to them about?”

“Tell her, T-Mac,” one of them encouraged.

“We don’t have time for games,” McGuire said. “We have a mission to accomplish before we head home.”

“You’re heading home?” Kinsley asked.

“Four days and a wakeup,” the tallest of the group answered.

“Where’s home?” Kinsley fell in step with them as they wove their way through the temporary buildings to the landing strip where planes and helicopters parked.

“Little Creek, Virginia,” McGuire answered.

“What about you?” one of the guys asked. “Where is your home base?”

“San Antonio, Texas, was my last PCS assignment,” Kinsley said.

“That’s where they train Military Working Dogs, isn’t it?” McGuire asked. “They have a facility at Lackland Air Force Base. Is that where you and Agar received your training?”

She nodded. “I spent the past year in training.”

“T-Mac says this is your first assignment since training.”

Again, Kinsley nodded. “That’s true. Agar was the best in his class. He could find trace amounts of explosives that none of our own detection equipment could pick up.” She patted the dog’s head. “He’s good at what he does. If there are IEDs or land mines, he’ll prove himself tonight.”

As they reached the helicopters, more SEALs gathered. Ammunition was dispensed. Then it came time for them to load into the helicopters.

Kinsley started for one of the choppers away from McGuire and his group.

The navy commander who’d briefed them caught up to her. “You’re riding in the other bird. Stick with T-Mac. He’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“I can take care of myself,” Kinsley insisted.

“I understand,” the commander said. “But the team isn’t used to working with a dog and its handler. It’s for their safety as well as yours.”

Kinsley couldn’t argue with that. Apparently, she was to have a handler. “Yes, sir.”

The commander escorted her back to the other helicopter where McGuire, or T-Mac, as his team nicknamed him, stood, waiting his turn to climb aboard.

“T-Mac,” the commander called out.

The SEAL turned when he saw who was with his superior.

“I have an assignment for you,” Commander Ward said.

“Yes, sir,” T-Mac replied.

“You’re to keep up with Specialist Anderson and Sergeant Agar. Bring them back safely.”

T-Mac’s eyes narrowed. “Sir?”

Kinsley stiffened.

The SEAL didn’t look too excited.

“You heard me,” the commander said. “Take care of them out there. You don’t know what you’ll be up against.”

“Yes, sir.” T-Mac nodded.

When the others in the helicopter chuckled, T-Mac shot a glare their way.

With the odd feeling she wasn’t in on the joke, Kinsley stepped up to the chopper.

“Has Agar been in a helicopter?” T-Mac asked.

Kinsley nodded. “Not only has he been up, he’s been hoisted in and out on a cable multiple times. He’s calm throughout.”

“Good.” T-Mac offered her a hand up.

Ignoring the hand, Kinsley motioned for Agar to go first. Then she stepped up into the chopper and found a seat between the tallest guy and one who was stout with a barrel chest. She settled between them and buckled her safety harness, keeping Agar close at her feet.

“I’m Jake,” said the tall man. “They call me Big Jake.”

Kinsley shook hands with the man. “Nice to meet you, Big Jake.”

“I’m Pitbull.” The barrel-chested guy stuck out his hand. “Here, you’ll need these.” He handed her a headset.

She removed her helmet and settled the headset over her ears. Immediately, she could hear static and the pilot and copilot performing a communications check with the passengers.

She watched and listened as each of the SEALs answered, and she committed their names to memory.

“Diesel.”

“Pitbull.”

“Buck.”

“Big Jake.”

“Harm.”

“T-Mac.”

Her heart skipped several beats when T-Mac spoke. He sat in the seat opposite, his gaze on her. When no one else spoke, he winked and touched his finger to his own microphone.

Kinsley realized she’d forgotten to say her name. With heat rising up in her cheeks, she spoke into the mic. “Anderson and Agar.”

T-Mac grinned.

A moment later, the helicopter lifted off the ground, swung out over the Gulf of Aden and then turned south, back over the Horn of Africa.

The sun had sunk low on the horizon, bathing the land in a bright orange glow.

If they hadn’t been headed into a potentially hostile environment, Kinsley would have enjoyed the view, the sunset and the warm wind blowing in her face. But this was her first real combat assignment. She wasn’t scared, but she was anxious to do well.

She sat back in her seat, forcing herself to be calm. Agar needed her full focus. He sensed her every mood and emotion. He needed to know she was in full control of herself as well as him. They’d trained to save lives by finding dangers lurking beneath the surface or behind walls.

For the duration of the flight, she concentrated on reducing her heart rate, breathing deeply and going over everything she’d learned in the intensive training she’d been through with Agar. Dogs weren’t deployed unless they were ready. And dog handlers didn’t last long in training if they weren’t capable, consistent and calm. She’d excelled along with Agar.

All of her training had been for more than inspecting vehicles entering through the post gates.

Agar nudged her foot with his nose and looked up at her.

Kinsley rubbed the dog’s snout and scratched him behind his ears.

He laid his head on her lap, as if sensing her unrest.

When Kinsley glanced up again, it was to stare across the darkening fuselage at the SEAL seated across from her. Though she resented feeling like she had to be babysat, she was glad she had someone with more combat experience watching her back.

All too soon, the helicopter touched down. The second one landed beside it.

Kinsley removed the helicopter headset, slipped her helmet on and latched the buckle beneath her chin. She exited the aircraft and stood to the side with Agar while all twelve SEALs alighted, checked their gear and waited for the signal to move out.

T-Mac approached her and handed her a small electronic device. “You’ll need these earpieces to hear the team as we move through the village. You’ll have to keep them up-to-date while they’re looking for our traitor.”

Kinsley fitted the device in her ear and spoke. “Testing.”

Big Jake took charge, giving directions, performing one last communication check on their radio headsets.

After everyone checked in, Big Jake gathered them in a circle. “The village should be another four clicks to the east. We need to get in, clear the rubble of any enemy combatants and wait for the handoff. Any questions?”

Big Jake nodded toward Kinsley. “Take it, dog soldier.”

Kinsley’s heartbeat quickened. This was it. She and Agar had a job to do, lives to save and explosives to find.

She tugged on Agar’s lead, sending him in the direction Big Jake indicated. She allowed the dog to run out at the extent of the retractable lead and walked behind him. She carried her rifle in her right hand, the lead in her left.

T-Mac fell in step beside her, his specialized M4A1 at the ready position.

Darkness had settled over the landscape with a blanket of stars lighting their way.

Agar zigzagged back and forth in front of her, his nose to the ground, tail wagging, moving swiftly enough that Kinsley had to hustle to keep up.

One kilometer passed without incident. Then two. As they neared their target, Kinsley slowed Agar, encouraging him to take his time. The team had chosen to approach the abandoned village from the west, establish a defensive position and wait for the party to start. The handoff was supposed to take place at midnight. That gave them a few hours to get in place and hunker down.

From what some of her more experienced counterparts had reported, sometimes it took hours to navigate a quarter-mile stretch. If their adversary considered the location to be worth the effort to defend or sabotage, they could have rigged it with land mines or trip wires hooked to detonators.

Glad for T-Mac’s protection, she led the SEALs toward the crumbled buildings at the edge of the little village.

As they neared the closest of what was left of a mud-and-stick hut, Agar stopped, sniffed and lay down on the ground.

Kinsley’s pulse quickened. “He found something.”

She marked the spot with a flag and bent to scratch Agar behind the ears, then gave him the command to continue his search. Within a few feet he lay down again.

Marking the new spot, Kinsley worked with Agar, moving a few feet at time, ever closer to the village, at what felt like an excruciatingly slow pace.

“I don’t like it,” T-Mac said. “If they have a sniper waiting in one of those buildings, they can easily pick us off.”

“Unless they figure the explosives will alert them to anyone coming in from this direction,” Big Jake said into Kinsley’s ear.

She ignored the chatter and continued until she and Agar had identified a clear path to the village through what appeared to be a short field of submerged mines.

Once inside the crumbled walls of the village, Agar moved from structure to structure, sniffing without lying down.

Kinsley didn’t let her guard down for a moment. After encountering the mines, she wouldn’t put it past whoever set them to have more hidden treasures to keep unwanted visitors out.

She had Agar enter huts along the way, clear them and move on, aiming toward the center of the village and the road that led through the middle.