I'm Not Leaving Him

Forward Operating Base – Tarmac

Clay woke as the wheels touched down, his hammock swinging crazily. Damn, no one woke me for landing. The movement caused his unsettled stomach to roll, but he didn't ralph again. When the aircraft came to a halt, he climbed out and held on to the webbing for stabilization as a sharp pain in his lower right back made itself known.

Hammocks are not the most comfortable, but they never left me sore before. Probably just a kink from all the running Jason made me do. Clay stretched to relieve the ache and was glad the pounding in his head subsided to a low roar too. As the rear of the plane opened, a blast furnace of heat rolled in along with bright sunlight, which caused him to squint. He squared his shoulders a Hayes approached, now wearing his uniform instead of the civvies they all arrived in. "Boss, I wasn't—"

"I don't want excuses. You got five minutes to change and gear up before the bus leaves for TOC. If you miss it you'll be running to the briefing." Jason grabbed his bags, pivoted, and strode out the back along with the other five members of Bravo and Cerberus.

Changing quickly, Clay fought the headache and backache, wishing to ask for a couple of pills but Davis scowled at him and he decided no one would believe him if he told him he had not been drunk. They made assumptions, Jason confirmed them by reaming him and … letting him sleep the remainder of the flight. So again, he sucked it up and barely made it to the white bus within the time limit.

Being the rookie on the elite tier one team run by Jason Hayes meant you didn't complain. You did what he expected, when expected, as expected … no questions. Clay didn't want to let his boss or team down and wanted to earn their respect, so he did as expected, and took a seat on the bus in front of Trent and across from Sonny.

The shooter-team medic tapped Clay on the shoulder. "So how much you drink last night?"

Without thinking, Clay answered Trent. "Only part of a beer."

Sonny smirked. "Lightweight."

"Told you the kid can't hold his alcohol." Trent chuckled.

"Sure the hell didn't smell or act like one beer," Brock said.

Deciding to keep his mouth shut since it would likely only increase their teasing, Clay clenched his jaw, shifted in his seat to relieve the pain in his back, and swiped at the sweat forming on his brow. Damned heat.

Forward Operating Base – Tactical Operations Center

As he continued the briefing, laying out his plan, Carlson scanned the unit Mandy claimed to be the best. By the looks of them, he possessed other opinions. His eyes landed on Hayes. The man came with a reputation for being a royal pain-in-the-ass and demanding to the point of potential insubordination, that is if Blackburn didn't fully support the master chief, which he always seemed to do according to his sources.

Hayes was one reason Carlson had expressly worked with Fuller's Charlie team for this operation. He didn't want the headache of dealing with Hayes. But when three members of six on Charlie became ill, including the soldier with knowledge of the local language, he was forced to go with Bravo and luckily, they possessed a multi-lingual shooter fluent in the dialect too.

Sneezing several times, Carlson eyed the dog. "Get that mangy thing out of TOC. I'm allergic to dogs."

Brock smirked as Jason said, "Deal with it, Carlson. The dog is a member of my team and stays with his handler."

Lisa produced tissues from somewhere, always having what her guys required, and in this case what an annoying CIA agent needed. She made the rounds passing out water bottles to them as the briefing continued in the stifling little room. Today was miserably hot and humid, and her uniform clung to her in all the wrong places.

If she was uncomfortable, Lisa could only imagine how the guys felt wearing their tactical gear, minus helmets and weapons at the moment. Davis stopped next to Clay to hand him one. Damn, he is wiped out still. Serves him right for coming onboard drunk. "Water?"

Clay glanced up, surprised she offered him one after her scowls on the plane. "Thanks. Two?"

Davis shoved another one at the rookie. Yeah, he will need to rehydrate before going on a daylight mission in today's heat.

Listening to the mission discussion, Clay guzzled one bottle but reduced the speed of consumption when his stomach rolled. His attention piqued when Mandy took over from the man named Carlson and he shifted in his seat, his back still aching and sweating buckets, but at least his headache dissipated.

Mandy said, "We need to take Sina Nazeri alive. This is the first chance we have had in two years. The intel we can glean from him will help us take down the Hamood Network."

"And why does this require a daylight raid … and my rookie specifically?" Jason challenged, not liking what he heard so far. "I say we go in under cover of darkness, snatch him and go."

"And wipe out all his lackeys in the process," Sonny added with a grin.

Carlson frowned. "We are not into creating an international incident."

"I am if it means wiping out the bastard who likes to sell explosives to those who blow up elementary schools and hospitals," Sonny quipped.

"Nazeri is a middleman who can give us the names of those who run the show. But I don't expect a mere shooter to understand the complex nature of what we are dealing with."

Sonny laughed. He dealt with too many pencil pushing cake eaters in his years to let the pompous remark get under his skin.

"I'm waiting. Why daytime and why Spenser?" Hayes crossed his arms as he leaned against the wooden table.

"Because someone has to communicate with Nazeri and it is the only time Nazeri will be out without his main compliment of protection. He visits his father once each month for a few hours," Carlson explained.

Ray reviewed the aerial photos of the rugged terrain surrounding the village nestled in a valley. "I don't like the terrain for a daylight op this deep in a Taliban controlled area. We should—"

"You are soldiers, you do as commanded," Carlson bit out. "I have worked on this for months now. This is our only opportunity."

Eric eyed Carlson and then Mandy. Who the hell does this guy think he is? Though he remained quiet as Ray continued as if Carlson had not spoken.

Ignoring Carlson, Ray said, "Jace, if we went in tonight and positioned ourselves here," Ray pointed to a building. "We would be in a position to grab him and avoid issues with a daylight infil. We only need to work out a fast exfil after we nab Nazeri."

Jason moved forward and scratched at his beard. "Could work. Clear a home close by and wait." His eyes shifted to Blackburn. "HALO in and helo out?"

"We could arrange," Eric said hearing the first decent suggestions for getting them in and out in a reasonably safe manner with a higher probability of keeping their target alive.

Davis took a seat. "On it."

Carlson fumed. "Fuller worked out all the plans for a daylight op."

"Fuller isn't here and he isn't in command of Bravo. My men, my op, my decision," Jason stated in a no-nonsense manner which appeared to further rile the sweating man in front of him.

Jason relaxed somewhat as Davis made arrangements. A night drop would allow Spenser to be fully clearheaded before going in, and keep his men safer. "Grab a few hours shut-eye," he instructed his team. "Spense."

Clay halted, turned back to Jason, and waited.

Scanning the rookie, Jason noted the slow motions and chalked it up to the excessive alcohol. He also spotted the soaked shirt, but then they all were dripping wet today. "Make sure you hydrate properly."

"Copy." Clay waited a moment longer and when Jason turned to speak with the Lt. Commander, he shuffled out with the others to find his bunk.

Aircraft Over Drop Zone

Sonny jerked on the kid's chute, ensuring he was buckled in properly. It crossed his mind this would be the first jump for Clay since the training one which claimed the life of his friend. "You good?"

Gritting his teeth against the pain the yanking caused in his back, Clay only nodded.

"I asked if you're alright. Expect a verbal response." Quinn stared at the rookie. Jason put Spenser under his wing whether he liked it or not. And although Sonny wouldn't admit to anyone, especially not Clay, he liked the responsibility … though it tended to be an onerous one at times. If there was trouble to be found Spenser's name was on it.

"Yeah." Clay managed. His nap took care of his nausea … that is until he rose from the bunk and shuffled out to grab chow with the others. He pushed his food around to make it appear he ate, but he didn't relish puking into his mask as they did a HALO jump so only drank some water.

The men jostled into position when the pilot indicated they were approaching the jump zone. Clay received several bumps to his back and suppressed the groans. He wiped a light sheen of sweat from his brow and waited for the word to go.

A flight tech, wearing oxygen pushed the button opening the rear of the aircraft. Jason gave the signal and Brock, with Cerberus strapped to his body wearing a specially designed doggie oxygen mask was the first out, followed by Trent, Ray, Clay, Sonny, and finally Jason. They free-fell, checking altimeters, and when they reached the right altitude they pulled cords and six canopies unfurled.

Landing with a thump, Clay dropped to his knees as pain ricocheted across his back from his right flank. He panted several breaths as it ebbed to a manageable level and thankfully his riotous gut didn't embarrass him in front of the others. Though at present, everyone was busy unhooking from their chute gear and rolling the fabric so they could stash the HALO gear for retrieval upon exfil.

Clay rose and swiftly completed his task, feeling the heat of his Boss' eyes on him even in the dark as he finished last. So much for redeeming himself in Hayes' eyes … though he was innocent of reporting drunk.

"TOC, Bravo one, proceeding to target village."

"Copy. All quiet and clear." Davis responded.

NOG lowered into place, casting their world in green, the six-man team moved out, needing to trek three klicks through rough mountain terrain to reach the village. No one spoke after Jason reported into TOC. They maintained a grueling pace as they traversed the rocky gorges making their way down to the village.

Target Village – Building Near Nazeri Residence

Jason gave out orders with hand signals and like a well-oil machine, Bravo prepared to breach the door … silently so as not to alert anyone in this Taliban held village to their presence. It was one reason they did a HALO jump instead of a helo drop … no one here would be forewarned by the sounds of a helicopter.

At the rear door with Sonny and Trent, Clay drew in a breath, quelling the non-stop nausea. It was too late to say anything to the team, but part of him wished he had braced himself during dinner to notify Jason he wasn't feeling up to snuff and take his lumps as Jason yelled at him and the follow-on glares and taunts from the others.

They executed their entry plan. Moving stealthy Clay covered their rear as Trent and Sonny began clearing the rooms, not finding anyone thus far. Clay spotted a man coming at Trent with a knife and in a flash, he went after him, needing to take him down without firing. After slamming the man into a wall, stunning him, Clay went for a chokehold to silence him before he could call out for others.

Sonny turned at the commotion, ready to help if necessary … not needed though as Clay released the hostile letting the body drop to the ground. Quinn grinned and nodded. Rookie done good.

Trent bent and secured the man's hands and ankles with zip ties before gagging him. As he rose, Trent patted Clay's back in thanks. The rookie saved my life, or at least from a nasty knife wound.

Sonny motioned towards the back stairwell, Trent followed, and Clay brought up the rear again. The three worked together clearing the second-floor rooms, securing the four men they located, as did Jason, Ray, and Brock on the first, trussing up five they found.

The trio on the upper level made it to the last room just as Jason notified them the first-floor was cleared. Clay entered first as they had leapfrogged point and rear positions. A dark-clad figure lunged at Clay sending both of them to the wooden floor. Clay's back rammed into something solid and sharp, sending shockwaves of pain coursing through his body.

Trent and Sonny were on the attacker in an instant and as he fought back, Quinn snapped his neck, letting the limp body crash down, without a second thought as his attention turned to Clay. As their rookie lay gasping for breath, Sonny rapidly moved to him and took a knee, knowing Trent would cover them. "Hey, Spense."

Riding wave after wave of pain, Clay could no longer hold back. He rolled to his side and began puking.

Sonny reached out to check for wounds and his glove came back wet. "Shit. Bravo one we have a problem."

"What?" Jason said as he began to head for the stairs leaving Brock and Ray to maintain overwatch on the entry points.

"The kid is bleeding and puking," Sonny said as he tugged at Clay's shirt trying to get a visual on the injury. His eyes flicked to where Spenser landed and notice a pyramid shaped object.

Jason appeared just as Sonny lifted the shirt and Clay finished ralphing. "What'da we got?"

"Kid landed on that," he pointed to the object, "appears to have punctured his back. Pretty deep."

Pain radiating around the wound, Clay moaned as Sonny applied pressure. His eyes locked with Jason's as his boss peered down at him. "Give me a sec … I'll be good."

Jason's concern notched up, as he snorted and shook his head. "Yeah, right."

Taking the words not as intended, believing Hayes was displeased or worse thought him a liability and incapable of pulling his own weight, Clay tried to rise to prove himself.

"Lay still," Jason barked. "Trent, take a look."

Switching places with Sonny, Trent lifted his NOG, and turned on his penlight to examine the wound. After Sonny's pressure it oozed, but the bleeding had slowed somewhat. "Puncture, no idea how deep. Bleeding appears to be slowing."

"Tape it up, and let me up. I'm fine," Clay growled, ticked off at himself.

"Do it," Jason ordered Trent as he rose.

Fifteen minutes later, all bandaged, Clay lay on one of the pads on the floor. Hayes insisted he rest since they had the remainder of the night and most the day to wait until their target showed. He closed his eyes and continued to fight the desire to paint the dusty floor with watery bile … since that is all his stomach contained.

Out of earshot of Clay, Jason pulled Trent aside. "How is he really? Can he make the assault and exfil?"

Trent pursed his lips in concentration. "Not sure. Punctured close to his kidney. The puking … that is out of the norm for him when he is hurt."

Jason agreed. The kid turned stoic when hurt … they all had too much experience with that with him in the past few months Spenser had been with the team. Noting Trent's expression, Jason asked, "What are you thinking?"

"He appears to be running a fever too. He said he only had one beer before the flight. He didn't eat any dinner. Kid might be sick," Trent shared his concerns wishing he had not teased Clay and actually asked him about the drinking instead of assuming. Especially since in the time he had known Clay, he had not consumed excessive alcohol.

Rolling his head, Jason blew out a breath. Dammit, I missed something. I should've let him explain on the flight. He strode over to Clay, squatted beside him, and demanded, "How much did you drink before we were upped? I want the truth."

Blinking open his lids lethargically, Clay answered, "Part of a beer."

"Why did you smell like a brewery?"

"Some jerk spilled his drink on me." Losing his war of control, Clay began heaving again, but nothing came up.

Jason braced Clay's shoulders, holding him as he continued to dry-heave. The heat radiating off Spenser was unmistakable this close up. Damn, the kid is sick and injured. For the next thirty minutes, Jason supported Clay as the rookie's condition began to rapidly deteriorate when he began to shiver uncontrollably and curled up, his face contorted in pain.

With limited medical supplies there wasn't much Trent could do, and he had no clue what type of illness they were dealing with, but they all understood Clay was in a world of pain.

Cerberus moved in close, sniffed at the wound, whined, and laid at Clay's feet. Sonny came forward to relieve Jason, sitting next to Clay and pulling the kid's head into his lap.

Assessing the situation, Jason stood and activated his comms. "TOC, Bravo One. We need to abort."

"Say again?" Davis said not believing Hayes would abort a mission.

"Bravo Six is injured and ill. Hot exfil with him is a no go."

Ripping the mike from Davis' hand, Carlson said, "You are ordered to complete your mission. One man is expendable. Leave him and get your target when he arrives."

Mandy, Lisa, and Eric glared at Carlson. Eric took the handset from Carlson. "Bravo One what is the situation?"

Jason moved next to the window as he explained Clay's condition and then said, "His condition is worsening. I'm not leaving him."

.

AN: Postings will be sporadic as I am using this story as a diversion when my muse needs a break from writing my current novel SECRETS: Passion, Deceit, and Revenge, which is getting close to being finished. Thank you all for the wonderful comments ... I hope to do this story justice.