Cole: The Wounded Sons, Leah Sharelle [the reading list .TXT] 📗

have to save your arse.” Grabbing Deke around the waist, I picked up my speed and half dragged and half carried my mate back the way I’d come. Sticking to the shadows, thankful that there was no spotlight this time.

The yanks must have taken out the lights, I thought absently.

“Gabe is pissed, isn’t he?” Deke hissed out in between taking gulps of air.

“Tank will have something to say about your kamikaze shit, yes. He will also have something to say to me when I get you back,” I mumbled, knowing that my captain was going to kick my arse for going in alone … for going behind his back.

“What did you do? Where is the team?”

Hurrying along the protection of the buildings, I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the distant sounds of soldiers yelling out the all-clear. Signalling that the coalition forces had been successful.

“The major refused to allow them to re-fit for battle, sent them home.”

“And not you?”

“No, not me.”

Deke fell silent, as did I. He knew what I meant and knew that I’d come back for him without the support of the Sons. Something we rarely ever did.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Ghost; the team doesn’t split up. We go home together,” Deke argued, hissing and panting as I picked up our pace to get up the steep hill.

“Fucking shut up, Deke. As if I would leave your idiotic arse behind.”

Ignoring my screaming aching muscles, the burden of getting both of us up the hill taking more energy out of me than I realised.

“Should have left me there, Cole. Should have fucking left me there.”

I didn’t like the defeated tone in Deke’s voice. Something odd and haunting more than the pain that the rebels inflicted on him was behind it. Was that the reason behind his stupid and irresponsible behaviour on the mission? The reason he went crazy and pulled one stupid stunt after another? Whatever it was, Deke was going to take time from the team to recover from his injuries, then maybe we can figure out what else was wrong with him.

“Not a chance, mate, not a fucking chance,” I replied firmly. Deke might be acting weird lately, but I loved him like a brother, trusted him with my life. Leaving him to suffer at the hands of the rebels was never going to happen.

Not on my watch.

The Black Hawk’s lights came into view just as Deke and I reached the planned HLZ. The last two hours had been a lesson in body control and endurance for both Deke and myself. Deke lost the ability to be of much help about forty minutes into our walk-out; his pain levels reached an all-time high, so bad that I ended up carrying him over my shoulders. The bastard was heavy, and I thought about giving up once or twice, but I dug deep and went back in my mind to my days in selection training. Those are days I’d much rather forget; the sleepless days, the sheer and pure tiredness, the aches and pains one had to endure to prove that you were worthy of wearing the green beret and the dagger patch.

Deke fell asleep five kilometres ago; at first, I was worried, but every now and then, he would let out a hiss or a grunt, letting me know he was still with me. I had no time to check him over, other than I cursory glance over his body to see if there was something I needed to do before I picked him up. I didn’t see much in the darkness, but I did make out a large stain of blood on his uniform on his side.

Knife wound? Maybe, but I had to get us to the HLZ on time; otherwise, we were going to be on foot to the FOB, and Deke was not going to last a day on my back, and quite frankly, neither was I.

Dropping to my knees, I bent over and rolled Deke off my shoulders and onto the rocky ground as carefully as I could. His low growl and curse bringing a small smile to my lips.

“Sorry, brother, but I gotta pop some smoke and I can’t do that and hold up your fat arse.” Grabbing a flair from my inside pocket, I popped the canister and tossed it a few feet from us, orange smoke circling up into the breaking dawn.

“Muscle arsehole, all muscle,” Deke choked out, giving me a pathetic attempt at a laugh.

“If you say so, Signal, now be quiet and save your strength for the major’s arse chewing you have coming.”

Keeping my focus on the bird in the sky, I sighed when it signalled that it was seeing my position. Deke’s faint breathing and his lethargic demeanour was worrying me. I had not been as gentle with him at times, falling once over a large boulder half-buried into the ground and accidentally dropping him when I went down. He had not even moaned, and that was not good. Watching the helicopter advance, I laid my upper body over Deke, covering him from the swirling dirt and stones from the huge blades.

“Here comes the calvary mate,” I told him, smiling as soon as the bird touched down and one man jumped out, running towards us.

“Ghost, let’s move.” The soldier yelled at me, two more soldiers coming up behind him with a gurney.

“Load him carefully fellas, he has a hell of a wound around his kidney area,” I warned them, picking Deke up and accepting the help from the medics.

“We’ve got him Lt, go get in the bird, I think you might know the pilot,” Dan, one of the medics Team FIVE often worked with, winked at me, giving me a chin lift and looking over his shoulder at the massive machine.

Not taking my eyes off Deke, I waited for them to settle him as comfortably as they could, then nodded once. I knew who was flying the chopper; Dane had