Disclaimer: Most characters belong to JE. I'm just borrowing them for a little hot action. If you see someone you don't recognize, he's mine. I'm not making any money from this, but I am having a blast.

'Explosive' sequel to Hooah: Ranger and Stephanie return to Trenton from Bolivia and try to adjust to their new relationship. Yes, a relationship! Things heat up fast when Ranger realizes he has competition for his Babe's attention.

End of Chapter 10

Chris snapped himself into a harness that had been resting against the tree, and then wrapped his arm around my legs. He reached over pushing a button on the box against the tree. I arched my head up where it dangled down Chris' back and watched as the timer clicked over from 5:00 to 4:59. Then Chris stepped off the platform into empty air. With my mouth still taped I couldn't even get the satisfaction of screaming in terror. But I could cry…cry for love lost.

Chapter 11—Never Worry About The Bullet With Your Name On It. Instead, Worry About Shrapnel Addressed To Occupant.

Ranger's POV

I watched my men fan out on either side of me studying the terrain for ambush sites and telltale signs of tampering and explosives placement. If it had been hotter and more humid, you'd think we were in a South American jungle. I never thought I'd be fighting this kind of guerilla warfare in New Jersey, and definitely not against one of my own men.

I wanted to kick myself for waiting until I'd had proof that Chris was Steph's stalker, but I knew regret was a waste of time. Like hanging myself with my own noose…regrets are mental suicide. If I'd told the rest of my men or Steph about my suspicions, and then I was wrong about Chris, I would've ruined an innocent man.

Now I was going to have to kill him. I didn't think he would leave me much choice. As a soldier, Chris was good. I was better. The goal was to get Steph free before the need for any fatal action happened. I knew if he were cornered, he would take them both out before surrendering. I would die before I let that happen.

I chose to walk down the middle of the trail. No point in hiding. Chris knew we were coming. Best to get this over with as soon as possible. Ram and Zero were well off the trail and keeping just a little ahead of me. Tank and Bobby were running point in a wide arc well ahead of us. Hal was guarding our rear. The objective was to surround Chris and flush him out if he hadn't made his move by then.

I looked to my left as Ram's hand came up and pointed to a spot on a tree about eight feet up. To my right, Zero repeated the signal. Chris had obviously rigged the trees along the trail with explosives, obviously not motion sensitive so they were probably remote controlled. This was a densely wooded area so avoiding all trees was impossible, but I saw both men give them as wide a berth a possible as they moved forward.

I continued walking slowly down the path…a Ranger's version of a Sunday stroll. The back of my neck started to itch. Steph was close by; she was alive.

I tensed. I knew it was coming, I just didn't know from what direction. I strained to detect any disturbance, any clue…there…ahead to my right…a faint thud, then two more. I dove forward and to my left, tucking my head just as the air exploded around me. The blast slammed me into the trunk of a nearby tree. Pain seared through my legs. All around me, the woods lit up with a dozen more explosions.

I struggled to my feet, but collapsed as my legs gave out under me. I quickly looked down and felt around my body. Lots of shrapnel imbedded in the vest, but nothing had penetrated to the skin. I checked my legs; there was lots of blood, but no arterial damage. I would live.

Note to self: big bonus to Tank for ordering the new flak vests and thigh protectors. Only my lower legs took on shrapnel. The damage would have been fatal without the new vests. Same result if I hadn't moved when I did.

I jerked my head up. That sound…so familiar. Like fishing line zinging out from the reel under the pull of a big fish. Tank and Bobby came pounding down the trail. I pulled myself up again, trying to stay clear-headed. Seeing the amount of blood on my legs, Bobby started to pull my pant leg up. I impatiently brushed him away.

We whipped around to see Hal racing down the trail toward us. He had been following me down the trail and managed to avoid any of the explosions. As he caught up to us, Ram and Zero appeared from opposite sides of the forest.

Both men had been near explosions and had been temporarily blinded and rendered deaf, but the new vests had stopped the shrapnel. Zero was bleeding from a couple of head wounds and his arms had taken on some shrapnel. He pointed to a large piece of metal imbedded in his vest directly over his heart and said, "It was addressed to Occupant." Zero and Tank grinned and bumped fists. If Ram was hurt, he wasn't complaining, but I noticed dozens of holes in his flak vest and he had wrapped a piece of his shirt around his forehead.

I told them the grenade that hit me was fired from a rifle. I pointed to our right and tried to walk. Tank steadied me as I hobbled over to the tree where I thought the grenade had been fired. It was quite a ways off the trail. Bobby looked up and saw a platform. He started climbing the tree. Zero called out, "Watch for booby traps."

A few seconds later Bobby dropped a rope ladder down. I immediately started up, hand over hand. Don't need legs for climbing a rope. When I got to the top, I saw Bobby working frantically over something on the tree trunk. I hauled myself up and saw the hunk of C-4 and the timer—0:08!

I reached around Bobby and yanked the explosive with its timer off the tree and threw it through a small opening in the branches. We both ducked.

The concussive force knocked me off the platform. As I fell backwards, Bobby caught my arm halting my plunge below. With his help I regained the platform. "Maybe now you'll get that explosives training I've been badgering you about," I hissed. My men were shouting up at us. "SNAFU, clear," I hollered down. From below, Tank muttered loudly, "That BAMF doesn't know when to quit." I wasn't sure if he was talking about Chris or me.

[SNAFU: Situation Normal—All Fucked Up; BAMF: Bad Ass Mother Fucker; FIDO: Fuck It! Drive On!]

Bobby pointed to the zip line that was anchored to the tree and stretched downhill to the north. "What now, Boss?" he asked. "FIDO! Tell Tank to call Woody," I ordered as I yanked my belt off, looped it around the line and kicked off. I heard Bobby call down to Tank with our situation and instructions and then I felt the line dip as he followed me.

We couldn't be far behind them. Chris had the extra burden of dealing with an uncooperative Steph. I smiled inside. It was one of her strongest suits. As I glided through the air hanging tight to my belt, I tried to visualize the satellite image Woody had sent earlier. I remembered a cleared linear corridor—a transmission line—running east to west through the forest about 300 feet north of the observatory. Chris probably had a 4WD vehicle stashed at the end of this zip line; that's what I would do.

Damn. If he got a head start, we'd never catch up. Babe, please find a way to delay him even just for a minute. I prepared myself for a bad tumble at the end of this line. My legs were too damaged for a graceful dismount.

It was dark and my night vision goggles had slipped around my neck. I knew the end was coming, but I couldn't see the landing site. I felt the ground rushing up and released my hold. I tucked into a roll and hoped for the best. Pain shot through my legs as I crashed into a thicket of small trees. The rest of me wasn't doing too good either.

Bobby hit the ground running behind me. The line was still humming. My men were coming right behind us. Bobby quickly searched the heavily wooded area finding the path Chris had taken. He came back handing me a long sturdy branch. I tossed it; a crutch would only slow me down.

One by one, the guys dropped off the zip line and moved over to us. I told them about the transmission corridor. Without discussion, we started making our way north through the dense undergrowth.

I pushed on, ignoring the pain, but was hard pressed to keep up with the others. I was letting Steph down and it was killing me.

When I got to the transmission corridor, only my men were there. No Chris, no Steph. I called out, "Report." Tank stepped closer and replied, "There are fresh tracks from a quad heading west. I talked to both the back up teams and Woody had directed them to the transmission line. They just entered the corridor and are converging on our location from each end of the line."

I whipped out my cell and called the office. "Woody, you still picking up Stephanie? She's moving west along the corridor? Don't lose her. If her trajectory deviates, call. And Woody, report our situation to the Highway Patrol."

Tank's phone vibrated. "The team coming from the west reports they're now chasing a quad back toward us. They took a grenade but are still functioning. Shots were fired." I barked, "Tell them to cease fire. They may hit Stephanie." My phone went off. Woody reported Steph's tracker indicated she had reversed direction and was now heading due east back toward us.

I instructed the rest of the team, "Fan out across the line and stay visible. I'll stay hidden; let's hope he thinks he killed me. Assume Chris has prepared for a suicide situation. Our trigger for action is whether he uses a deadman's switch or a simple detonator. If Chris were a sane man, I'd guess detonator; quads in this rough terrain are too unpredictable for a deadman."

Tank stared at me, "You think Chris is on that deathmobile with explosives, a deadman switch and Steph?" I nodded. "If he's using a detonator I'll take him out. If it's a deadman…let him leave with Steph." There were loud murmurs of dissent. "Any better ideas?" I demanded, anger raising my voice.

The team spread out across the cleared line. I positioned myself against a large tree trunk and readied my weapon. Before my mind could lapse into fear for Stephanie, l let my need for revenge fuel my rage. Focus on the goal…

A/N: Babes, I apologize for the abrupt ending to the previous Chapter 10. I was so excited to get the chapter posted and since I knew the 'truth' I forgot my readers didn't and might take Chris' announcement that Ranger was dead at face value—he is a psycho, remember. Well, I guess he gets that from me. 'The insane, on occasion, are not without their charms.' My sincere apologies for any undue heart stoppage, upset tummies or troubled sleep this may have caused. I hope I redeemed myself in this chapter. One more to go…