Collateral Damage (Read 53,936 times)

[jwsel]

Chapter Eight

Having finally gotten Stephanie to sleep, Kayla settled down on the couch with a cup of her favorite orange blossom herbal tea. A small smile appeared on her face as she thought of the grief she would have gotten from Shane for drinking a substance he did not consider "proper tea" or, in fact, any kind of tea at all.

The smile changed to a frown as she thought again of Shane, as she had so often since he left. It had been four days since he had left suddenly for his mission and, no matter how hard she tried, she could not shake her suspicion that there was something different about this one.

It was not the first time Shane had been required to leave town suddenly for some ISA business, but he had never been so distant and secretive when he left and he had always been able to call her during his trip. The fact that Kim had picked up on something as well did nothing to soothe her fears. Shane was out there, undoubtedly doing something dangerous and, as much as she might try to deny it, she was terrified he might be hurt -- or worse.

She tried to tell herself that she was being ridiculous. Shane was strong, extremely competent at his job, and had been involved in numerous dangerous assignments. He could take care of himself; he always had. Even when they had thought he was dead, he still managed to come home. Yet, no matter what she told herself, the fear remained.

Taking another sip of her tea, Kayla leaned back into the couch and let her thoughts continue to drift. She knew that her fears were not just because Shane was on a mission. No, the fear came from the hours spent by Steve's hospital bedside and the unimaginable pain she had felt when she lost him. It was a pain she thought she would never get over and, if she were honest with herself, she never really had. It was no longer the sharp, nearly unbearable pain that she had felt for those first few months, but that didn't mean it had entirely gone away. No, now it existed as a dull ache, constantly there, but something she had learned to live with and, on some rare occasions, even forget for a little while. But it always came back. Something as simple as Stephanie's smile -- so much like her father's -- or as abstract as a stranger on the street with blond hair or a leather jacket. Even now, as worried as she was about Shane, that ache remained, reminding her that, while her life might move on, she would always love Steve and that loss would never leave her entirely.

She sometimes wondered if she was being unfair to Shane. She had told him that she would always love Steve, that she could not and did not want to forget him or the love they shared. Shane had gently told her that he never expected that, that he didn't want -- and couldn't -- compete with Steve. And he had never gone back on that promise.

Kayla sometimes wished she could be as accepting of Kim's place in Shane's life. Kayla knew that Shane loved her, but she also knew it was different than what he had felt for Kim. Kayla had been an eyewitness to a large part of Kim and Shane's life together and she knew they had the once-in-a-lifetime kind of love that she and Steve had. That kind of love doesn't die, as she well knew. Kim and Shane may have hurt each other deeply, so deeply that the pieces seemed incapable of being put back together again, but Kayla knew that, deep down, that love was still there.

She had known it when Kim had first returned to Salem, but Shane had insisted that he had moved on while Kim had insisted their marriage was over. Even then, Kayla had tried to back out of any relationship with Shane, but circumstances conspired against her and her good intentions.

Things might have been very different if Eve had never run away from her trial. Or if Kim had never decided to work for the ISA and get close to Lawrence Alamain. By the time Kayla had learned the truth, it was just too late. She had fallen in love with Shane and, as much as she loved her sister, Kayla wasn't willing to sacrifice the happiness she had found for Kim.

For as long as Kayla could remember, she had been the peacemaker in the family, the one who made sure everyone was okay. But she wasn't that innocent, naïve young woman anymore. Time and pain had changed her. Shane had helped her find a way to move on with her life and made her believe she could find some happiness again, and she couldn't just give that up. She would always regret that her relationship with Shane had caused pain for her family, and especially Kim. But Kayla had to believe that she and Kim could get past that pain and rebuild their friendship.

Sighing softly, Kayla got up from the couch and poured herself another cup of tea. Maybe the second cup would do what the first could not -- soothe her fears and allow her to get some badly needed sleep. But Kayla knew that was just wishful thinking. There would be no peaceful sleep until Shane returned home and she could once again bury those fears and pain.

[jwsel]

Chapter Nine

The one thing Shane had not counted on was the heat. At 4 p.m. -- or 16:00 as Deakins kept reminding him to think in military time -- when they had left the Blackhawks, it had been 104 degrees. After five miles of jogging through the desert with 25 pounds of body armor, Shane had been about ready to pass out.

"Here," Deakins passed Shane a bottle of water as they huddled under a sand-colored canopy about a half-mile from the compound. They had been camped underneath for a few hours and still had another two hours or so before they would begin moving toward the compound.

Shane drained the bottle and pulled out another so he could rehydrate before the assault. "Thanks. I think I probably lost about 20 pounds just getting here. Maybe we could market that as a new exercise regime, I don't know, 'the desert workout.'"

Deakins chuckled and said something, but other than that bloody nickname, it was rather unintelligible to Shane's ears. It took him a minute before he translated it as "Y'all's a strange dude, Spooky."

"Yeah, I've been told that once or twice," Shane replied.

"So what's so dang important 'bout this fella?" Deakins asked. "Captain said y'all knows him."

"You could say that," Shane said. "He's my . . . well, he was my brother-in-law."

"An in-law? Ain't y'all s'posed ta hate them?"

Shane tried not to laugh. "We've had our moments, trust me." He grew somber. "But Steve's a good man. Saved my life more than once. If he's in there, we've got to get him out. Get him back to his family."

"He's got kids?"

Shane nodded, and pictured Stephanie with one of those smiles that melted his heart. "A beautiful little girl. She's just one. She deserves to have her father."

"Whaddya 'bout y'all?" Deakins asked.

He had to take a moment to figure out what that meant. "Me? You mean do I have kids?" When Deakins nodded, Shane answered. "Two. A little boy, Andrew. He just turned five. And my daughter Eve's 19."

"No way. Y'all ain't old enough ta have a kid that old."

Shane laughed. That's what he thought, but the paternity tests and birth certificates didn't lie. Eve was his daughter, and she was definitely 19. Then Shane remembered something. He had to unlatch his body armor to reach his shirt pocket, but he managed to pull out a small photo and passed it to Deakins. "There," Shane said. "That's Eve and Andrew, and the baby Eve's holding, that's Stephanie, Steve's -- our target's -- little girl. That's from last Christmas."

"Wow," Deakins said as he looked at the photo. "Tha' daughter o' y'all's smokin'. Know plenty o' grunts who'd--" He stopped when he saw the look on Shane's face, and sheepishly returned the photo. "Um, sorry."

Shane decided to turn the tables. "How about you? Any kids?"

Deakins grinned, reached into his vest pocket, and fished out a tattered photo. It was a snapshot of Deakins, his wife, and two towheaded kids, a girl and boy. "Ginny's six and Darrell's three," he said.

Shane passed the picture back. "They're handsome kids. Looks like they got that from their mother's side of the family."

"Insteada this ugly mug?" Deakins laughed at the joke. He took another look at the photo and then put it away, before he grew serious. "Better do one last check of y'all's weapons. Sand'll git in 'em."

They both fell silent and spent the next hour or so checking their equipment. Deakins had been right about the sand. Enough had clustered around the bolt carrier of Shane's CAR-15 that the rifle would have jammed if he had not cleared it. With the rifle now clean, Shane double-checked his M9 pistol. It seemed fine. Then he and Deakins ran through an audio check with the other teams and verified that their night-vision equipment was fully operational.

"This is a hell of a lot of work for what should be a 10-minute raid," Shane muttered, eliciting a laugh from Deakins, who said something about hoping nobody scuttled the mission now.

Shane realized his heart was pounding. A voice in the back of his head asked what the hell he was doing there. What had possessed him to play soldier with a bunch of Green Berets?

Not that there was anything he could do about it now. It was far too late to change his mind. That was confirmed when he heard Nowicki's voice come through his earpiece, giving the order to move out.

As Deakins pulled off the canopy, Shane looked into the nighttime sky and pictured his family back in Salem. They were in the library of the Salem house. Eve was playing with Andrew, while Kim watched as she sipped tea from one of the porcelain cups. More than anything, that was where Shane longed to be.

"Y'all's ready?" Deakins voice intruded into Shane's thoughts and the mental image disappeared.

He nodded at Deakins. Then he began the brisk jog toward the compound with the soldiers, muttering, "As ready as I'll ever be."

[jwsel]

An extra chapter for today.

Chapter Ten

Kim finished putting the stuffed animals on the shelf. She had finished cataloging every toy in the Abuse Clinic, and wondered what she was going to do next to keep busy. She already had updated all of the files and had removed the old files to be sent to storage. There really was not much more she could do and it was only about early afternoon.

She shivered slightly. It wasn't like she making up work to do because she felt the need to justify her paycheck. She was doing it because she wanted to take her mind off this feeling that had been plaguing her all day.

She tried to pretend that she had never felt like this before. That was better than the alternative -- remembering when she had.

"Enough of that, Kimberly Brady," she said to herself. "Stop acting like a fool." She looked around the room. There had to be something she could do. No. Not really.

She picked up the phone and dialed her folks' house. Caroline answered. "Hi Mama, I was just checking in. Everything okay with Andrew and Jeannie?"

"Kimmie," Caroline said, sounding exasperated. "That's the third time you've called today. The children are just as fine as they were two hours ago." She paused. "Is something wrong? Something you're not telling me about?"

Normally, Kim might unburden herself to her mother when she had a problem, but what was she going to say now? That she felt like something was wrong? Caroline was a practical woman and would hardly be sympathetic. "No, Mama. I just miss them and it's a slow day at work, so I've been thinking about them a lot." That would appease Caroline. She quickly came up with an excuse to get off the phone. "Oh, there's Doc Horton, Mama. I've got to go."

Setting down the phone, Kim walked over to the shelf of stuffed animals and picked up a pink bunny. It looked a lot like Jeannie's favorite toy.

She's okay, Kim reminded herself. So is Andrew. So why did Kim still have this feeling?

Oh, who was she kidding? She knew why. It was Shane. It was always Shane. Ever since they had met, she could feel when he was in danger. And this feeling . . . .

She shivered again. The last time she had felt like this was the day Shane had chased Alfred Jericho up a cliff and everyone thought he died in an explosion. By the time he found his way back to her, Kim had done what everyone had encouraged her to do -- move on with her life. So she did, with Cal.

Cal Winters, the biggest mistake of her life. No, she couldn't say that. Cal had given her Jeannie, and Kim would never trade that for anything -- not even for a happy marriage with Shane.

She shivered again. Dammit, why did she have to still worry about Shane like this? It should be Kayla worrying. Shane was just Kim's ex-husband. Most ex-wives would be happy to hear something bad had befallen their ex. She shouldn't dread this feeling; she should be happy, right?

There she went kidding herself again. She could tell herself over and over that she was over Shane Donovan, but she knew the truth. It still hurt to even think about him, to think about what she -- what they -- had lost. But it was too late for regrets. Shane had moved on.

And that was the sick irony of this whole sorry affair. Kim had never gotten over Shane, even though it was her attempt to move on that precipitated the collapse of their marriage.

She hugged the pink bunny close and made a silent prayer that the man she loved was okay and would come home safely, even if it meant he came home to her sister.

[MrsM]

I love the contrast from chapter to chapter and to see what they are all going through.

[fluffysmom]

I really liked hearing Kim's thoughts in this chapter and Kayla's thoughts earlier. Shane seems really worried about the mission. Thanks for posting several chapters today.

[jwsel]

Chapter 11

"Where are they all coming from?" someone shouted through the earpiece in Shane's ear. He was baffled too. The analysts had said there would be minimal defenses, but they were being fired on from all directions.

"Deakins?" Shane cried, and the figure in front of him gave a brisk nod. Okay, at least Shane was following the right man. In front of them, several of the soldiers had taken cover and the muzzle flashes shone bright among the green-tinted images in his goggles.

They still had not reached the central clearing. Deakins dove to his left, and Shane followed. They crouched behind some barrels next to a small trailer. The sergeant fired over them, while Shane leaned out to get a better look.

Dozens of figures had emerged into the night from the buildings on the other side of the compound. Their guns flashed, and bullets ricocheted off the barrels. Some bullets ripped the siding off the trailer and it rained over them.

Shane opened fire. He saw a couple of figures in his line of fire fall to the ground, but had no idea if they were from his shots. He just kept firing. Nowicki was barking incomprehensible orders through his earpiece. Shane was too focused on firing to pay attention.

"This way." Shane heard a yell and felt someone tugging at his shoulder. Deakins. He motioned backwards. Shane understood. Instead of going through the center of the compound, they would circle around the perimeter.

Something exploded on the opposite side of the compound and screams cut through the air. Were they ours or theirs? Shane wondered. Theirs, hopefully.

They had slid back behind the trailer and Deakins started sprinting toward the east fence. Shane raced after him. Some figures came into view and Shane raised his rifle, but stopped. Ours, he realized.

"East side is secure," one of the men yelled as he passed them on his way to provide support to the soldiers in the middle of the compound.

They reached the path that ran the length of the eastern fence. Over the earpiece, Shane heard Deakins reporting their location. Of course, Shane realized. He had to tell the others so they didn't shoot them when they turned back to the center of the compound to reach the building holding Steve.

"Down!" Deakins yelled as he dropped to the ground. Several figures had turned their way at the south end of the compound. Shane dove and began firing. Under the onslaught from his and Deakins' machine guns, the figures stumbled backwards and fell, one-by-one. Over the earpiece, he heard Deakins laugh. "Hey, y'all, ol' Spooky here can shoot."

"Come on," Shane urged, getting back to his feet. They reached the midway point and turned back to the center. Something was burning in the middle of the compound. Acrid smoke obscured his vision and filled his lungs. He tried to ignore the burning in his throat as he and Deakins finally arrived at the door of the building they had been trying to reach.

Deakins plowed through the door like a football blocker, and dropped into a forward roll. Shane started forward, but jumped back as bullets ripped through the door jam, inches from his head. He ducked and tried to peek into the room. Deakins was firing at something on the far side.

Through night-vision, Shane saw what Deakins was shooting at. A cluster of men in the far corner. Each of their shots flashed bright. "Careful!" Shane yelled. "The target's in here." He prayed that if Steve really was in this building, he was staying low.

"Y'all just gonna ask them fer that brother-in-law? Or ya gonna help?"

Deakins had a point. Staying low, Shane moved into the building, which looked like it might have been a school. The walls had a bunch of shelves and there were a bunch of tables throughout. Shane crouched behind a shelf and opened fire. He thought one or two of the men fell.

Something flew through the air and he heard Deakins yell. Instinct send Shane diving for the door as the grenade exploded. The noise was deafening and the force propelled him back outside.

He landed, face down, and stayed there for a moment. Rising to his hands and knees, he shook his head. His head was swimming and he couldn't hear a thing.

Shane stumbled to his feet and turned. Where was he? Then he saw the door. It was still there, maybe a little wider from the blast. He still had his rifle in hand, so he staggered toward it.

The cobwebs began to clear. Deakins. Steve. Gun muzzles still flashed on the other side of the room. Funny that they weren't making any noise. Deakins was waving at him, maybe even yelling, but Shane couldn't hear anything. He tried to register what Deakins was doing with his hands. He was moving his hand from high to low.

Down. That meant down.

Yes, Shane thought. Down.

Down. As in "get down." The meaning suddenly hit him and he dropped to the floor. The wall right next to where he had been standing burst into a shower of wood shards. At the same moment, his hearing returned with the almost-overwhelming roar of shouting and gunfire.

Remembering how to shoot, Shane raised his rifle again and began firing.

To his right, Deakins was moving forward, slipping from shelf to shelf. Shane provided cover fire as the man moved. There were probably only a couple of men still alive in the other corner of the room, but they were behind something. An overturned table or desk, perhaps.

Deakins waved for Shane to move too. He spotted a fallen shelf, probably knocked down by the grenade. Racing forward, he dove low behind it as shots ripped over his head. Near the opposite side, Deakins pulled out a grenade.

"No!" Shane yelled. They didn't know where Steve was.

Deakins either didn't hear or ignored him. He tossed the grenade over the barrier. The room exploded once more, then fell silent. Shane could still hear shots and yells from outside, but, inside, they seemed safe for the moment. He ran forward, trying to see if he could spot any sign of life. Deakins reached the opposite side first.

"There's a door here," he yelled. He kicked it open and froze.

Shane reached the door and looked inside. It was a tiny room, probably a storage closet. Inside, was a man.

"That y'all's brother-in-law?" Deakins asked as they stared down at the figure huddled on the floor?

Shane stepped inside and took a good look. His blond hair was long and matted and a beard covered much of his face. The man looked up and Shane saw the eye-patch and the one good eye. It shone with confusion and fear. Shane stepped forward, but the man slid away, curling into a tight ball.

"Don't . . . don't . . ." he rasped. Even as weak as it was, the voice was unmistakable.

Steve. Filthy and unkempt. Weak and maybe injured. But it was Steve.

Shane held his arms away from his body, pointing the gun away from Steve, and moved closer. He crouched beside Steve and kept his voice soft and calm.

"It's me, Steve," he said. "It's Shane."

The good eye seemed to register something. Maybe recognition. But the man stayed curled in a protective ball.

Shane put his rifle on the ground, and held out his hands. "Come on, Steve. We've come to take you home."

[MrsM]

Action packed!!!!

[DancingDays]

And so vivid!! I can totally "see" everything! Well done.

[gapeach]

Oh man... great story. Can't wait till Shane gets Steve home. Also love that Kim feels like that Shane has moved on... wonder how Steve's return is going to affect Kim, Kayla, and Shane!

[fluffysmom]

I'm glad Shane found Steve. Now to get the two of them out of the camp in one piece. So much action.

[jwsel]

Thanks everyone. We have fun with the action stuff and it's great to see that readers could visualize this sequence.

As for how this will affect Kayla, Kim, and Shane . . . Let's just say the ride is going to be bumpy and it's just getting started.

[jwsel]

Chapter 12

"Steve, we've got to go," Shane said. "Please."

The man still seemed confused. That brief moment of recognition had passed.

"We've gotta get outta here," Deakins said.

"I know." Shane sighed. He had hoped Steve would come readily, but that wasn't going to happen. He picked up his rifle in his left hand and grabbed Steve's arm with his right. Then he stood, pulling Steve up with him. Steve tried to pull away, but he couldn't. He was too weak to break Shane's hold.

"Try to calm down," Shane said. "I'm trying to help."

When Steve did not respond, Shane began dragging him out. He debated trying to carry Steve, but if he struggled, they would both fall. In his earpiece, he heard Deakins reporting "Target secured."

Secure, my arse, Shane thought. "Maybe we could get some help taking him out," he yelled at Deakins, but over the earpiece, Nowicki already was ordering the unit to the extraction point.

Steve was still trying to pull away. Shane turned to him so they were face-to-face. This time, he was not so calm. "Steve! I need you to focus. We have to get out of here. We're here to rescue you."

The good eye blinked. Steve's head turned slightly sideways and he seemed to understand. Slowly, weakly, he asked, "Shane . . . that you?"

Thank God. Finally. "Yes, Steve, it's me. I'm taking you home."

"Kay--"

"Yes, Steve . . . To Kayla. But we've got to go now. I need you to come with me." Shane thought Steve might be too weak to walk on his own, so he put an arm around his waist. "Hold on to me, Steve. We need to move fast."

This time, Steve did what he was told. Shane looked ahead at Deakins, who was already at the door to the outside. Shane began moving, running awkwardly because he was carrying most of Steve's weight.

"'bout damn time," Deakins said. "Come on."

This time, they took no roundabout path. They headed straight for the center of the compound, through the smoke that burned their throats and stung their eyes. As they ran, Shane noticed that Steve's feet seemed to be moving and he was bearing more of his weight. "That's good, Steve. Keep moving."

They turned right, toward the hole in the northern fence. To their left, out the corner of his eye, Shane saw movement and then a flash. "No," he yelled, raising his rifle one-handed. He emptied the rest of his magazine, a barrage of bullets that caused the enemy to twitch and jerk as each bullet struck home. He did not fall until the rifle was empty.

Shane turned back and saw Deakins. He was struggling to stay on his feet, but fell to his knees. Still dragging Steve, Shane ran toward the other man.

Deakins' right hand was pressing against a spot just under his left arm. Blood flowed freely down his side, and Shane could see the wound. A bullet had pierced right above the top of the body armor. Deakins tried to stand, but stumbled forward.

Shane let Steve go and pulled Deakins to his feet. Steve just stood there, not moving. "Steve, we've got to keep going," Shane yelled, motioning toward the hole in the fence. When Steve still didn't move, Shane leaned close. "I know you're weak, Steve, but you need to focus and you need to run with me. We've got to get out of here."

Steve stared back.

"Come on, Steve. We can't stay here. There may be more of them." Shane tried to see if he could see any movement, either from within the compound or from the soldiers outside. Nothing. He looked back at Steve and desperately asked, "Don't you want to see Kayla? And Stephanie?"

"Kayla?" Steve registered the name.

"Yes, Kayla, your wife. And Stephanie, your little girl." Shane tried to prod Steve with his rifle. "Go through the gate with me, and I'll take you to them. They miss you."

That seemed to get through. Steve nodded and began to take some plodding steps toward the fence. Shane lifted Deakins into a fireman's carry and began running beside Steve. Over his shoulder, Deakins grunted in pain, then said, "Y'all's brother-in-law ain't the sharpest nail in the board."

Shane didn't answer. He was using all his strength to bear Deakins' weight. Steve was ahead of them, at the fence. He looked back. "Go ahead, Steve. Right through," Shane yelled with effort. "Just keep going straight ahead."

Then they were through the fence and moving faster. Not fast, by any stretch, but faster. Steve seemed to be gaining strength even as he stumbled forward. Over the earpiece, Shane heard Nowicki.

"Deakins, Donovan, where they hell are you?"

Shane managed to reach his comm button without dropping Deakins or his rifle. "We could use some help back here," he said, gasping. "Deakins was hit and the target's not exactly running a sub-4-minute mile."

"Roger that," came the response.

Under Deakins' weight, Shane was struggling now even to keep up with Steve's slow pace. Then he saw three soldiers come running toward them. One grabbed Steve, who tried to jerk away, but couldn't. The soldier did not hesitate; he lifted Steve over his shoulder and began running back toward the helicopter. The other two soldiers pulled Deakins off of Shane and put him into a seat carry. Shane staggered forward, following them.

A few minutes later, they reached the Blackhawk. Shane shielded his eyes from the sand that the rotors were sending out in a harsh spray. Then he was being pulled inside and landing on his hands and knees. He debated just staying there, but someone pulled him into a seat. Shane looked up to see Captain Nowicki.

Shane shook his head. "Did anyone ever tell you that you're all bloody insane?"

Nowicki laughed and handed Shane a bottle of water. Then he helped the soldiers get Steve and Deakins settled, before yelling at the pilot to take off. Then they were in the air, leaving the desert for good.

Inside, the medical sergeant already had his kit out and was pulling away Deakins' body armor. "Looks like a through-and-through," the medic was telling Nowicki. "Don't think it hit any vitals, but we'll start giving him blood now." The medic quickly went about setting up a transfusion from a soldier with a matching blood type.

Shane let out a deep breath and pressed his head against the wall of the helicopter. The adrenaline that had been keeping him going had completely disappeared. All he wanted to do was take a hot bath and crawl into bed for a month. He began to close his eyes, but kept them open long enough to take a look at Steve.

His friend was in a seat near the back of the chopper, his legs folded tight against his chest, and his eye opened wide. Someone had given Steve a bottle of water, but he had not opened it. Instead, he looked furtively from side to side, almost like he was surrounded and trying to figure out where the attack would come from.

Despite the hot desert night, Shane shivered. He had told himself that rescuing Steve would be the hard part, but watching him now, Shane began to wonder if the hard part was just beginning.

[MrsM]

Wow. Sounds like Steve has been through a lot. I think things are going to be very bumpy.

[DancingDays]

Wow, indeed. This is really, REALLY good!!

[fluffysmom]

I'm glad they made it to the helicopter. It looks like the challenges have just begun.